It was too bad there was such a mistake, said Mrs. Rachel
sympathetically. Couldn t you have sent her back?
I suppose we could, but we decided not to. Matthew took a fancy to her.
And I must say I like her myself--although I admit she has her faults.
The house seems a different place already. She s a real bright little
thing.
Marilla said more than she had intended to say when she began, for she
read disapproval in Mrs. Rachel s expression.
It s a great responsibility you ve taken on yourself, said that
lady gloomily, especially when you ve never had any experience with
children. You don t know much about her or her real disposition, I
suppose, and there s no guessing how a child like that will turn out.
But I don t want to discourage you I m sure, Marilla.
I m not feeling discouraged, was Marilla s dry response, when I make
up my mind to do a thing it stays made up. I suppose you d like to see
Anne. I ll call her in.
Anne came running in presently, her face sparkling with the delight of
her orchard rovings; but, abashed at finding the delight herself in
the unexpected presence of a stranger, she halted confusedly inside
the door. She certainly was an odd-looking little creature in the short
tight wincey dress she had worn from the asylum, below which her thin
legs seemed ungracefully long. Her freckles were more numerous and
obtrusive than ever; the wind had ruffled her hatless hair into
over-brilliant disorder; it had never looked redder than at that moment.
Well, they didn t pick you for your looks, that s sure and certain,
was Mrs. Rachel Lynde s emphatic comment. Mrs. Rachel was one of those
delightful and popular people who pride themselves on speaking their
mind without fear or favor. She s terrible skinny and homely, Marilla.
Come here, child, and let me have a look at you. Lawful heart, did
any one ever see such freckles? And hair as red as carrots! Come here,
child, I say.
Anne came there, but not exactly as Mrs. Rachel expected. With one
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