I m getting fond of her, but don t you rub it in, Matthew Cuthbert.
CHAPTER XIII. The Delights of Anticipation
IT S time Anne was in to do her sewing, said Marilla, glancing at the
clock and then out into the yellow August afternoon where everything
drowsed in the heat. She stayed playing with Diana more than half an
hour more n I gave her leave to; and now she s perched out there on
the woodpile talking to Matthew, nineteen to the dozen, when she knows
perfectly well she ought to be at her work. And of course he s listening
to her like a perfect ninny. I never saw such an infatuated man.
The more she talks and the odder the things she says, the more he s
delighted evidently. Anne Shirley, you come right in here this minute,
do you hear me!
A series of staccato taps on the west window brought Anne flying in from
the yard, eyes shining, cheeks faintly flushed with pink, unbraided hair
streaming behind her in a torrent of brightness.
Oh, Marilla, she exclaimed breathlessly, there s going to be a
Sunday-school picnic next week--in Mr. Harmon Andrews s field, right
near the lake of Shining Waters. And Mrs. Superintendent Bell and Mrs.
Rachel Lynde are going to make ice cream--think of it, Marilla--_ice
cream!_ And, oh, Marilla, can I go to it?
Just look at the clock, if you please, Anne. What time did I tell you
to come in?
Two o clock--but isn t it splendid about the picnic, Marilla? Please
can I go? Oh, I ve never been to a picnic--I ve dreamed of picnics, but
I ve never--
Yes, I told you to come at two o clock. And it s a quarter to three.
I d like to know why you didn t obey me, Anne.
Why, I meant to, Marilla, as much as could be. But you have no idea
81