It ll have to be done sooner or later, you know, for Marilla s a
dreadful determined woman--dreadful determined, Anne. Do it right off,
I say, and have it over.
Do you mean apologize to Mrs. Lynde?
Yes--apologize--that s the very word, said Matthew eagerly. Just
smooth it over so to speak. That s what I was trying to get at.
I suppose I could do it to oblige you, said Anne thoughtfully. It
would be true enough to say I am sorry, because I _am_ sorry now. I wasn t
a bit sorry last night. I was mad clear through, and I stayed mad all
night. I know I did because I woke up three times and I was just
furious every time. But this morning it was over. I wasn t in a temper
anymore--and it left a dreadful sort of goneness, too. I felt so ashamed
of myself. But I just couldn t think of going and telling Mrs. Lynde
so. It would be so humiliating. I made up my mind I d stay shut up here
forever rather than do that. But still--I d do anything for you--if you
really want me to--
Well now, of course I do. It s terrible lonesome downstairs without
you. Just go and smooth things over--that s a good girl.
Very well, said Anne resignedly. I ll tell Marilla as soon as she
comes in I ve repented.
That s right--that s right, Anne. But don t tell Marilla I said
anything about it. She might think I was putting my oar in and I
promised not to do that.
Wild horses won t drag the secret from me, promised Anne solemnly.
How would wild horses drag a secret from a person anyhow?
But Matthew was gone, scared at his own success. He fled hastily to the
remotest corner of the horse pasture lest Marilla should suspect what
he had been up to. Marilla herself, upon her return to the house, was
agreeably surprised to hear a plaintive voice calling, Marilla over
the banisters.
Well? she said, going into the hall.
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