Anne of Green Gables

by L. M. Montgomery

  CHAPTER IX. Mrs. Rachel Lynde Is Properly Horrified

  |ANNE had been a fortnight at Green Gables before Mrs. Lynde arrived toinspect her. Mrs. Rachel, to do her justice, was not to blame for this.A severe and unseasonable attack of grippe had confined that good ladyto her house ever since the occasion of her last visit to Green Gables.Mrs. Rachel was not often sick and had a well-defined contempt forpeople who were; but grippe, she asserted, was like no other illness onearth and could only be interpreted as one of the special visitationsof Providence. As soon as her doctor allowed her to put her footout-of-doors she hurried up to Green Gables, bursting with curiosity tosee Matthew and Marilla's orphan, concerning whom all sorts of storiesand suppositions had gone abroad in Avonlea.

  Anne had made good use of every waking moment of that fortnight. Alreadyshe was acquainted with every tree and shrub about the place. She haddiscovered that a lane opened out below the apple orchard and ran upthrough a belt of woodland; and she had explored it to its furthest endin all its delicious vagaries of brook and bridge, fir coppice and wildcherry arch, corners thick with fern, and branching byways of maple andmountain ash.

  She had made friends with the spring down in the hollow--that wonderfuldeep, clear icy-cold spring; it was set about with smooth red sandstonesand rimmed in by great palm-like clumps of water fern; and beyond it wasa log bridge over the brook.

  That bridge led Anne's dancing feet up over a wooded hill beyond, whereperpetual twilight reigned under the straight, thick-growing firs andspruces; the only flowers there were myriads of delicate "June bells,"those shyest and sweetest of woodland blooms, and a few pale, aerialstarflowers, like the spirits of last year's blossoms. Gossamersglimmered like threads of silver among the trees and the fir boughs andtassels seemed to utter friendly speech.

  All these raptured voyages of exploration were made in the odd halfhours which she was allowed for play, and Anne talked Matthew andMarilla half-deaf over her discoveries. Not that Matthew complained, tobe sure; he listened to it all with a wordless smile of enjoyment on hisface; Marilla permitted the "chatter" until she found herself becomingtoo interested in it, whereupon she always promptly quenched Anne by acurt command to hold her tongue.

  Anne was out in the orchard when Mrs. Rachel came, wandering at herown sweet will through the lush, tremulous grasses splashed with ruddyevening sunshine; so that good lady had an excellent chance to talkher illness fully over, describing every ache and pulse beat withsuch evident enjoyment that Marilla thought even grippe must bring itscompensations. When details were exhausted Mrs. Rachel introduced thereal reason of her call.

  "I've been hearing some surprising things about you and Matthew."

  "I don't suppose you are any more surprised than I am myself," saidMarilla. "I'm getting over my surprise now."

  "It was too bad there was such a mistake," said Mrs. Rachelsympathetically. "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 littlething."

  Marilla said more than she had intended to say when she began, for sheread disapproval in Mrs. Rachel's expression.

  "It's a great responsibility you've taken on yourself," said thatlady gloomily, "especially when you've never had any experience withchildren. You don't know much about her or her real disposition, Isuppose, 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 makeup my mind to do a thing it stays made up. I suppose you'd like to seeAnne. I'll call her in."

  Anne came running in presently, her face sparkling with the delight ofher orchard rovings; but, abashed at finding the delight herself inthe unexpected presence of a stranger, she halted confusedly insidethe door. She certainly was an odd-looking little creature in the shorttight wincey dress she had worn from the asylum, below which her thinlegs seemed ungracefully long. Her freckles were more numerous andobtrusive than ever; the wind had ruffled her hatless hair intoover-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 thosedelightful and popular people who pride themselves on speaking theirmind without fear or favor. "She's terrible skinny and homely, Marilla.Come here, child, and let me have a look at you. Lawful heart, didany 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 onebound she crossed the kitchen floor and stood before Mrs. Rachel, herface scarlet with anger, her lips quivering, and her whole slender formtrembling from head to foot.

  "I hate you," she cried in a choked voice, stamping her foot on thefloor. "I hate you--I hate you--I hate you--" a louder stamp with eachassertion of hatred. "How dare you call me skinny and ugly? How dareyou say I'm freckled and redheaded? You are a rude, impolite, unfeelingwoman!"

  "Anne!" exclaimed Marilla in consternation.

  But Anne continued to face Mrs. Rachel undauntedly, head up, eyesblazing, hands clenched, passionate indignation exhaling from her likean atmosphere.

  "How dare you say such things about me?" she repeated vehemently. "Howwould you like to have such things said about you? How would you liketo be told that you are fat and clumsy and probably hadn't a spark ofimagination in you? I don't care if I do hurt your feelings by sayingso! I hope I hurt them. You have hurt mine worse than they were everhurt before even by Mrs. Thomas' intoxicated husband. And I'll _never_forgive you for it, never, never!"

  Stamp! Stamp!

  "Did anybody ever see such a temper!" exclaimed the horrified Mrs.Rachel.

  "Anne go to your room and stay there until I come up," said Marilla,recovering her powers of speech with difficulty.

  Anne, bursting into tears, rushed to the hall door, slammed it until thetins on the porch wall outside rattled in sympathy, and fled through thehall and up the stairs like a whirlwind. A subdued slam above told thatthe door of the east gable had been shut with equal vehemence.

  "Well, I don't envy you your job bringing _that_ up, Marilla," said Mrs.Rachel with unspeakable solemnity.

  Marilla opened her lips to say she knew not what of apology ordeprecation. What she did say was a surprise to herself then and everafterwards.

  "You shouldn't have twitted her about her looks, Rachel."

  "Marilla Cuthbert, you don't mean to say that you are upholding her insuch a terrible display of temper as we've just seen?" demanded Mrs.Rachel indignantly.

  "No," said Marilla slowly, "I'm not trying to excuse her. She's beenvery naughty and I'll have to give her a talking to about it. But wemust make allowances for her. She's never been taught what is right. Andyou _were_ too hard on her, Rachel."

  Marilla could not help tacking on that last sentence, although she wasagain surprised at herself for doing it. Mrs. Rachel got up with an airof offended dignity.

  "Well, I see that I'll have to be very careful what I say after this,Marilla, since the fine feelings of orphans, brought from goodnessknows where, have to be considered before anything else. Oh, no, I'm notvexed--don't worry yourself. I'm too sorry for you to leave any room foranger in my mind. You'll have your own troubles with that child. Butif you'll take my advice--which I suppose you won't do, although I'vebrought up ten children and buried two--you'll do that 'talking to' youmention with a fair-sized birch switch. I should think _that_ would be themost effective language for that kind of a child. Her temper matches herhair I guess. Well, good evening, Marilla. I hope you'll come down tosee me often as usual. But you can't expect me to visit here again in ahurry, if I'm liable to be flown at and insulted in such a fashion. It'ssomething new in _my_ experience."

  Whereat Mrs. Rachel swept out and away--if a fat woman who alwayswaddled _cou
ld_ be said to sweep away--and Marilla with a very solemn facebetook herself to the east gable.

  On the way upstairs she pondered uneasily as to what she ought to do.She felt no little dismay over the scene that had just been enacted.How unfortunate that Anne should have displayed such temper before Mrs.Rachel Lynde, of all people! Then Marilla suddenly became aware of anuncomfortable and rebuking consciousness that she felt more humiliationover this than sorrow over the discovery of such a serious defectin Anne's disposition. And how was she to punish her? The amiablesuggestion of the birch switch--to the efficiency of which all of Mrs.Rachel's own children could have borne smarting testimony--did notappeal 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 properrealization of the enormity of her offense.

  Marilla found Anne face downward on her bed, crying bitterly, quiteoblivious 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 listento what I have to say to you."

  Anne squirmed off the bed and sat rigidly on a chair beside it, her faceswollen 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 ofyourself?"

  "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 didto her, Anne. I was ashamed of you--thoroughly ashamed of you. Iwanted you to behave nicely to Mrs. Lynde, and instead of that you havedisgraced me. I'm sure I don't know why you should lose your temper likethat just because Mrs. Lynde said you were red-haired and homely. Yousay it yourself often enough."

  "Oh, but there's such a difference between saying a thing yourself andhearing other people say it," wailed Anne. "You may know a thing isso, but you can't help hoping other people don't quite think it is. Isuppose you think I have an awful temper, but I couldn't help it. Whenshe said those things something just rose right up in me and choked me.I _had_ to fly out at her."

  "Well, you made a fine exhibition of yourself I must say. Mrs. Lyndewill have a nice story to tell about you everywhere--and she'll tellit, too. It was a dreadful thing for you to lose your temper like that,Anne."

  "Just imagine how you would feel if somebody told you to your face thatyou were skinny and ugly," pleaded Anne tearfully.

  An old remembrance suddenly rose up before Marilla. She had been a verysmall child when she had heard one aunt say of her to another, "What apity she is such a dark, homely little thing." Marilla was every day offifty before the sting had gone out of that memory.

  "I don't say that I think Mrs. Lynde was exactly right in saying whatshe did to you, Anne," she admitted in a softer tone. "Rachel is toooutspoken. But that is no excuse for such behavior on your part. Shewas a stranger and an elderly person and my visitor--all three very goodreasons why you should have been respectful to her. You were rude andsaucy and"--Marilla had a saving inspiration of punishment--"you must goto her and tell her you are very sorry for your bad temper and ask herto forgive you."

  "I can never do that," said Anne determinedly and darkly. "You canpunish me in any way you like, Marilla. You can shut me up in a dark,damp dungeon inhabited by snakes and toads and feed me only on bread andwater and I shall not complain. But I cannot ask Mrs. Lynde to forgiveme."

  "We're not in the habit of shutting people up in dark damp dungeons,"said Marilla drily, "especially as they're rather scarce in Avonlea. Butapologize to Mrs. Lynde you must and shall and you'll stay here in yourroom until you can tell me you're willing to do it."

  "I shall have to stay here forever then," said Anne mournfully, "becauseI can't tell Mrs. Lynde I'm sorry I said those things to her. How canI? I'm _not_ sorry. I'm sorry I've vexed you; but I'm _glad_ I told her justwhat I did. It was a great satisfaction. I can't say I'm sorry when I'mnot, can I? I can't even _imagine_ I'm sorry."

  "Perhaps your imagination will be in better working order by themorning," said Marilla, rising to depart. "You'll have the night tothink over your conduct in and come to a better frame of mind. You saidyou would try to be a very good girl if we kept you at Green Gables, butI must say it hasn't seemed very much like it this evening."

  Leaving this Parthian shaft to rankle in Anne's stormy bosom, Marilladescended to the kitchen, grievously troubled in mind and vexed insoul. She was as angry with herself as with Anne, because, whenever sherecalled Mrs. Rachel's dumbfounded countenance her lips twitched withamusement and she felt a most reprehensible desire to laugh.