Rachel Lynde, of all people! Then Marilla suddenly became aware of an
uncomfortable and rebuking consciousness that she felt more humiliation
over this than sorrow over the discovery of such a serious defect
in Anne s disposition. And how was she to punish her? The amiable
suggestion of the birch switch--to the efficiency of which all of Mrs.
Rachel s own children could have borne smarting testimony--did not
appeal to Marilla. She did not believe she could whip a child. No,
some other method of punishment must be found to bring Anne to a proper
realization of the enormity of her offense.
Marilla found Anne face downward on her bed, crying bitterly, quite
oblivious of muddy boots on a clean counterpane.
Anne, she said not ungently.
No answer.
Anne, with greater severity, get off that bed this minute and listen
to what I have to say to you.
Anne squirmed off the bed and sat rigidly on a chair beside it, her face
swollen and tear-stained and her eyes fixed stubbornly on the floor.
This is a nice way for you to behave. Anne! Aren t you ashamed of
yourself?
She hadn t any right to call me ugly and redheaded, retorted Anne,
evasive and defiant.
You hadn t any right to fly into such a fury and talk the way you did
to her, Anne. I was ashamed of you--thoroughly ashamed of you. I
wanted you to behave nicely to Mrs. Lynde, and instead of that you have
disgraced me. I m sure I don t know why you should lose your temper like
that just because Mrs. Lynde said you were red-haired and homely. You
say it yourself often enough.
Oh, but there s such a difference between saying a thing yourself and
hearing other people say it, wailed Anne. You may know a thing is
so, but you can t help hoping other people don t quite think it is. I
suppose you think I have an awful temper, but I couldn t help it. When
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