just as you are looking now, whenever I try to imagine I m the Lady
Cordelia. But it s a million times nicer to be Anne of Green Gables than
Anne of nowhere in particular, isn t it?
She bent forward, kissed her reflection affectionately, and betook
herself to the open window.
Dear Snow Queen, good afternoon. And good afternoon, dear birches down
in the hollow. And good afternoon, dear gray house up on the hill.
I wonder if Diana is to be my bosom friend. I hope she will, and I
shall love her very much. But I must never quite forget Katie Maurice
and Violetta. They would feel so hurt if I did and I d hate to hurt
anybody s feelings, even a little bookcase girl s or a little echo
girl s. I must be careful to remember them and send them a kiss every
day.
Anne blew a couple of airy kisses from her fingertips past the cherry
blossoms and then, with her chin in her hands, drifted luxuriously out
on a sea of daydreams.
CHAPTER IX. Mrs. Rachel Lynde Is Properly Horrified
ANNE had been a fortnight at Green Gables before Mrs. Lynde arrived to
inspect her. Mrs. Rachel, to do her justice, was not to blame for this.
A severe and unseasonable attack of grippe had confined that good lady
to her house ever since the occasion of her last visit to Green Gables.
Mrs. Rachel was not often sick and had a well-defined contempt for
people who were; but grippe, she asserted, was like no other illness on
earth and could only be interpreted as one of the special visitations
of Providence. As soon as her doctor allowed her to put her foot
out-of-doors she hurried up to Green Gables, bursting with curiosity to
see Matthew and Marilla s orphan, concerning whom all sorts of stories
and suppositions had gone abroad in Avonlea.
Anne had made good use of every waking moment of that fortnight. Already
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