how fascinating Idlewild is. And then, of course, I had to tell Matthew
about the picnic. Matthew is such a sympathetic listener. Please can I
go?
You ll have to learn to resist the fascination of
Idle-whatever-you-call-it. When I tell you to come in at a certain time
I mean that time and not half an hour later. And you needn t stop to
discourse with sympathetic listeners on your way, either. As for the
picnic, of course you can go. You re a Sunday-school scholar, and it s
not likely I d refuse to let you go when all the other little girls are
going.
But--but, faltered Anne, Diana says that everybody must take a basket
of things to eat. I can t cook, as you know, Marilla, and--and--I don t
mind going to a picnic without puffed sleeves so much, but I d feel
terribly humiliated if I had to go without a basket. It s been preying
on my mind ever since Diana told me.
Well, it needn t prey any longer. I ll bake you a basket.
Oh, you dear good Marilla. Oh, you are so kind to me. Oh, I m so much
obliged to you.
Getting through with her ohs Anne cast herself into Marilla s arms and
rapturously kissed her sallow cheek. It was the first time in her whole
life that childish lips had voluntarily touched Marilla s face. Again
that sudden sensation of startling sweetness thrilled her. She was
secretly vastly pleased at Anne s impulsive caress, which was probably
the reason why she said brusquely:
There, there, never mind your kissing nonsense. I d sooner see you
doing strictly as you re told. As for cooking, I mean to begin giving
you lessons in that some of these days. But you re so featherbrained,
Anne, I ve been waiting to see if you d sober down a little and learn
to be steady before I begin. You ve got to keep your wits about you in
cooking and not stop in the middle of things to let your thoughts rove
all over creation. Now, get out your patchwork and have your square done
before teatime.
I do _not_ like patchwork, said Anne dolefully, hunting out her
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