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Tonight, we'll read the 10th chapter to Anne of Green Gables,

the classic 1908 novel by Lucy Maud Montgomery.

This chapter is titled Anne's Apology. In the last episode, Mrs. Rachel Lind is properly horrified and has been settling in at Green Gables for the last couple of weeks. When Mrs. Rachel Lind pays a visit. She would have visited sooner but had been laid up with a bout of grip, which is an archaic term for the flu. Mrs. Lind sees any orphan as suspicious as a rule, and when Anne comes in from playing outside, she is messy,

dirty, and an ill-fitting orphanage clothes. The lady does not hold her tongue on how she perceives as a homely pathetic creature with hair as red as carrots. Anne in return also does not hold back, and calls Mrs. Lind, fat, clumsy, and without imagination. Later, Marilla talks to Anne privately and insists that while Mrs. Lind may have deserved what she got, she was still Anne's elder and must be treated with an expected amount of courtesy. Otherwise it would harm not only Anne's reputation in the community, but also Marillas.

Thus, Anne would need to muster up the courage to apologize.

Let's get cozy.

Close your eyes.

Relax your body into the saltness of your bed. Now, take a few deep breaths. Chapter 10. Anzipology Morilla said nothing to Matthew about the affair that evening, but when Anne proved still refractory the next morning, an explanation had to be made to account for her absence from the breakfast table. Rilla told Matthew the whole story, taking pains to impress him with a due sense of the enormity of Anne's behavior. It's a good thing Rachel Lind got a calling down. She's a medal-simult gossip.

Was Matthews, rejoinder? Matthew Cuthbert. I'm astonished at you. You know that Anne's behavior was dreadful, and yet you take her part? I suppose you'll be saying next thing that she oughtn't to be punished at all. Well, now, no. Not exactly. Said Matthew, uneasily. I reckon she ought to be punished a little. But don't be too hard on her, Marilla. Recollect she hasn't ever had anyone to teach her right? you're going to give her something to eat, aren't you? when did you ever hear of me starving people into good behavior? demanded Marilla, indignantly. have her meals meals regular and all carry them up to her myself, but she'll stay up there until she's willing to apologize to Mrs. Linde, and that's final, Matthew. Breakfast, dinner, and supper were very silent meals, for Anne still remained obter it. After each male, Marilla carried a well-filled tray to the East Gable and brought it down later on not noticeably depleted. you eyed its last descent with a troubled eye. Had a hand eaten anything at all? When Marilla went out that evening to bring the cows from the back pasture, Matthew, who had been hanging about the barns and watching, slipped into the house with the air of a burglar and crept upstairs. As a general thing, Matthew gravitated between the kitchen and the little bedroom off the hall where he slept. Once in a while he ventured uncomfortably into the parlor or sitting-room when the minister came to tea. But he had never been upstairs in his own house since the spring he helped Marilla paper, the spare bedroom, and that was four years ago. He tipped out along the hall and stood for several minutes outside the door of the east cable before he summoned to courage to tap on it with his fingers and then open the door to Peepin. Anne was sitting on the yellow chair by the window, gazing mournfully out into the garden. Very small and unhappy she looked, and Matthew's heart smote him. He softly closed the door and tipped over to her. And he whispered as if afraid of being overheard. How are you making it, Anne? And smiled softly. Pretty well. I imagine a good deal, and that helps to pass the time. Of course it's rather lonesome, but then I may as well get used to that. And smile again, bravely facing the long years of solitary imprisonment before her. Matthew recollected that he must say what he had come to say without loss of time. Lest Marilla return prematurely. Well, now, and don't you think you'd better do it and have it over with?" He whispered. It'll have to be done sooner or later, you know? From Arilla's a dreadful determined woman, dreadful determined Anne, do it right off, I say, and have it over. Do you mean apologize to Mrs. Lind? 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. Sadean 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. Lin 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 loan some downstairs without you. Just go and smooth things over. That's a good girl. Very well. Said Anne. 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 ore 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, I'm sorry I lost my temper and sat root things, and I'm willing to go and tell Mrs. Lin-Sau. very well. Morilla's crispness gave no sign of her relief. She had been wondering what under the canopy she should do if Anne did not give in. I'll take you down after milking. Accordingly, after milking, behold Marilla and Ann walking down the lane. The former erect and triumphant, the latter drooping and dejected. But halfway down, Ann's dejection vanished as if by enchantment. He lifted her head and stepped lightly along. Her eyes fixed on the sunset sky and an air of subdued exhilaration about her. Marilla beheld the change disapprovingly. This was no meek penitent such as it behoved her to take into the presence of the offended Mrs.

Lind.

What are you thinking of Anne? She asked sharply. I'm imagining out what I must say to Mrs. Lind, answered Anne dreamily. This was satisfactory or should have been so, but Marilla could not rid herself of the notion that something in her scheme of punishment was going as skew and had no business to look so wrapped and radiant. and radiant and continued until they were in the very presence of Mrs. Linde, who was sitting knitting by her kitchen window, then the radiance vanished. Mornful penitence appeared on every feature, before a word was spoken, and suddenly went down on her knees before the astonished Mrs. Rachel, and held out her hands, besiegingly. Oh Mrs. Lind, I am so extremely sorry," she said with a quiver in her voice. I could never express all my sorrow. No, not if I used up a whole dictionary. You must just imagine it. I behave terribly to you, and I've disgraced the dear friends, Matthew and Marilla, who have let me stay at green gables, although I'm not a boy. I'm a dreadfully wicked and ungrateful girl, and I deserve to be punished and cast out my respectable people forever. It was very wicked of me to fly into a temper because you you told me the truth. It was the truth. Every word you said was true. My hair is red, and I'm freckled and skinny and ugly. What I said to you was true too, but I shouldn't have said it. Oh Mrs. Lind, please forgive me. If you refuse, it will be a lifelong sorrow on a poor little orphan girl. Would you, even if she had a dreadful temper? Oh, I am sure you wouldn't. Please say you forgive me, Mrs. Lind. Anne clasped her hands together, bound her head, and waited for the word of judgment. There was no mistaking her sincerity. It breathed in every tone of her voice. Both Marilla and Mrs. as recognized its unmistakable ring, but the former understood in dismay that Anne was actually enjoying her valley of humiliation, was reveling in the thoroughness of her abasement. Where was the wholesome punishment upon which she, Marilla had plumed herself, and had turned it into a species of positive pleasure? Good Mrs. Lind not being overburdened with perception. Did not see this. She only perceived that Anne had made a very thorough apology, and all resentment vanished from her kindly, if somewhat a fissious heart. There, there, get up, child?" She said heartily. Of course I forgive you. I guess I was a little too hard on you anyway, but I'm such an outspoken person. You just mustn't mind me. That's what? It can't be denied your hair is terrible red, but I knew a girl once, went to school with her in fact, whose hair was every might as red as yours when she was young, but when she grew up it darkened to a real handsome o'burn. I wouldn't be a might surprised if yours did too, not a might. Oh Mrs. Lind, and drew a long breath as she rose to her feet. You have given me hope. I shall always feel that you are a bed of factor. Oh, I could endure anything if I only thought my hair would be a handsome operant when I grew up. It would be so much easier to be good if one's hair was a handsome opern, don't you think? And now may I go out into your garden and sit on that bench under the apple trees, while you and Mervilla are talking. There is so much more scope for imagination out there. Laws, yes, are long child, and you can pick up O'Kay of them white jing lilies over in the corner if you like. As the door closed behind Anne, Mrs. Lind got briskly up to light a lamp. She's a real odd little thing. Take this chair, Marilla. It's easier than the one you've got. I just kept that for the hired boy to sit on. Yes, she certainly is an odd child, but there is something kind of taking about her after all. I don't feel so surprised that you and Matthew keeping her as I did, nor so sorry for you, either. She made her now all right. Of course she has a queer way of expressing herself. A little too… well... too kind of forcible, you know? But she'll likely get over that now that she's come to live among civilized folks. And then her temper's pretty quick, I guess. But there's one comfort. A child that has a quick temper just blaze up and cool down ain't never likely to be sly or deceitful. Preserve me from a sly child, that's what. On the whole Marilla, I kind of like her. When Marilla went home, Anne came out of the fragrant twilight of the orchard, with a sheaf of white flowers in her hands. I apologized pretty well, didn't I? She said proudly, as they went down the lane. I thoughts since I had to do it, I might as well do it thoroughly. You did it thoroughly all right enough, was Marilla's comment. Marilla was dismayed at finding herself inclined to laugh over the recollection. She had also an uneasy feeling that she ought to scold Anne for apologizing so well, but then that was ridiculous. She compromised with her conscience by saying severely, I hope you won't have occasion to make many more apologies. I hope you'll try to control your temper now, Anne. That wouldn't be so hard if people wouldn't twit me about my looks. Zan'Anne with a sigh. I don't get cross about other things, but I'm so tired of being twittered about my hair,

and it just makes me boil right over.

Do you suppose my hair will really be a handsome operand when I grow up?

You shouldn't think so much about your looks, Anne.

I'm afraid you are a very vain little girl. How can I be vain when I know I'm only? Protested, Anne. I love pretty things, and I hate to look in the glass and see something that isn't pretty. It makes me feel so sorrowful, just as I feel when I look at any ugly thing. I pity it because it isn't beautiful. Handsome is, as Handsome does, quoted Marilla. I've had that said to me before, but I have my doubts about it. Remarked skeptical hand, sniffing at her flowers. Oh, aren't these sweet? It was lovely of Mrs. Linda to give them to me. I have no hard feelings against Mrs. Lynn now. It gives you a lovely, comfortable feeling to apologize and be forgiven, doesn't it? Aren't the stars bright tonight? If you could live in a star, which one would you pick? I'd like that lovely, clear, big one away over there above that dark hill. And, do hold your tongue. Said Marilla, thoroughly worn out, trying to follow the gyrations of Anne's thoughts. Anne said no more until they turned into their own lane. A little gypsy wind came down it to meet them, laid in with the spicy perfume of young duet ferns. Bar up in the shadows, a cheerful light gleamed out through the trees from the kitchen at Green Gables.

And suddenly came close to Marilla and slipped her hand into the older woman's hard palm. hard palm.

It's lovely to be going home and know it's home, she said. I love green gables already and I never loved any place before. No place ever seemed like home. Marilla, I'm so happy. I could pray right now and not find it a bit hard. Something warm and pleasant, welled up in Marilla's heart, a touch of that thin little hand in her own. A throb of the maternity she had missed perhaps. It's very unacoustedness and sweetness disturbed her. She hastened to restore her sensations to their normal calm by inculcating a moral. If you'll be a good girl, you'll always be happy in, and you should never find it hard to say your prayers. Saying one's prayers isn't exactly the same thing as praying. Said Anne, meditatively. But I'm going to imagine that I'm the wind that is blowing up there in those tree tops. When I get tired of the trees, I'll imagine I'm gently waving down here in the ferns. And then I'll fly over to Mrs. Lynn's garden and set the flowers dancing, and then I'll go over with one great swoop over the clover field, and then I'll blow over the lake of shining waters and ripple it all up into little sparkling waves. There's so much scope for imagination in a wind, so I'll not talk anymore just now, Marilla be to goodness for that.

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