“It’stimeAnnewasintodohersewing,”saidMarilla,glancingattheclockandthenoutintotheyellowAugustafternoonwhereeverythingdrowsedintheheat. “ShestayedplayingwithDianamorethanhalfanhourmore’nIgaveherleaveto;andnowshe’sperchedoutthereonthewoodpiletalkingtoMatthew,nineteentothedozen,whensheknowsperfectlywellsheoughttobeatherwork. Andofcoursehe’slisteningtoherlikeaperfectninny.Ineversawsuchaninfatuatedman. Themoreshetalksandtheodderthethingsshesays,themorehe’sdelightedevidently. AnneShirley,youcomerightinherethisminute,doyouhearme!” AseriesofstaccatotapsonthewestwindowbroughtAnneflyinginfromtheyard,eyesshining,cheeksfaintlyflushedwithpink,unbraidedhairstreamingbehindherinatorrentofbrightness. “Oh,Marilla,”sheexclaimedbreathlessly,“there’sgoingtobeaSunday-schoolpicnicnextweek—inMr.HarmonAndrews’sfield,rightnearthelakeofShiningWaters. AndMrs.SuperintendentBellandMrs.RachelLyndearegoingtomakeicecream—thinkofit,Marilla—ICECREAM!And,oh,Marilla,canIgotoit?” “Justlookattheclock,ifyouplease,Anne.WhattimedidItellyoutocomein?” “Twoo’clock—butisn’titsplendidaboutthepicnic,Marilla?PleasecanIgo?Oh,I’veneverbeentoapicnic—I’vedreamedofpicnics,butI’venever—” “Yes,Itoldyoutocomeattwoo’clock.Andit’saquartertothree.I’dliketoknowwhyyoudidn’tobeyme,Anne.” “Why,Imeantto,Marilla,asmuchascouldbe. ButyouhavenoideahowfascinatingIdlewildis. Andthen,ofcourse,IhadtotellMatthewaboutthepicnic.Matthewissuchasympatheticlistener.PleasecanIgo?” “You’llhavetolearntoresistthefascinationofIdle-whatever-you-call-it. WhenItellyoutocomeinatacertaintimeImeanthattimeandnothalfanhourlater. Andyouneedn’tstoptodiscoursewithsympatheticlistenersonyourway,either. Asforthepicnic,ofcourseyoucango. You’reaSunday-schoolscholar,andit’snotlikelyI’drefusetoletyougowhenalltheotherlittlegirlsaregoing.” “But—but,”falteredAnne,“Dianasaysthateverybodymusttakeabasketofthingstoeat. Ican’tcook,asyouknow,Marilla,and—and—Idon’tmindgoingtoapicnicwithoutpuffedsleevessomuch,butI’dfeelterriblyhumiliatedifIhadtogowithoutabasket. It’sbeenpreyingonmymindeversinceDianatoldme.” “Well,itneedn’tpreyanylonger.I’llbakeyouabasket.” “Oh,youdeargoodMarilla.Oh,youaresokindtome.Oh,I’msomuchobligedtoyou.” Gettingthroughwithher“ohs”AnnecastherselfintoMarilla’sarmsandrapturouslykissedhersallowcheek. ItwasthefirsttimeinherwholelifethatchildishlipshadvoluntarilytouchedMarilla’sface. Againthatsuddensensationofstartlingsweetnessthrilledher. ShewassecretlyvastlypleasedatAnne’simpulsivecaress,whichwasprobablythereasonwhyshesaidbrusquely: “There,there,nevermindyourkissingnonsense. I’dsoonerseeyoudoingstrictlyasyou’retold. Asforcooking,Imeantobegingivingyoulessonsinthatsomeofthesedays. Butyou’resofeatherbrained,Anne,I’vebeenwaitingtoseeifyou’dsoberdownalittleandlearntobesteadybeforeIbegin. You’vegottokeepyourwitsaboutyouincookingandnotstopinthemiddleofthingstoletyourthoughtsroveallovercreation. Now,getoutyourpatchworkandhaveyoursquaredonebeforeteatime.” “IdoNOTlikepatchwork,”saidAnnedolefully,huntingoutherworkbasketandsittingdownbeforealittleheapofredandwhitediamondswithasigh. “Ithinksomekindsofsewingwouldbenice;butthere’snoscopeforimaginationinpatchwork. It’sjustonelittleseamafteranotherandyouneverseemtobegettinganywhere. ButofcourseI’dratherbeAnneofGreenGablessewingpatchworkthanAnneofanyotherplacewithnothingtodobutplay. IwishtimewentasquicksewingpatchesasitdoeswhenI’mplayingwithDiana,though. Oh,wedohavesucheleganttimes,Marilla. Ihavetofurnishmostoftheimagination,butI’mwellabletodothat. Dianaissimplyperfectineveryotherway. YouknowthatlittlepieceoflandacrossthebrookthatrunsupbetweenourfarmandMr.Barry’s. ItbelongstoMr.WilliamBell,andrightinthecornerthereisalittleringofwhitebirchtrees—themostromanticspot,Marilla.DianaandIhaveourplayhousethere.WecallitIdlewild.Isn’tthatapoeticalname? Iassureyouittookmesometimetothinkitout. IstayedawakenearlyawholenightbeforeIinventedit. Then,justasIwasdroppingofftosleep,itcamelikeaninspiration.DianawasENRAPTUREDwhensheheardit. Wehavegotourhousefixedupelegantly. Youmustcomeandseeit,Marilla—won’tyou? Wehavegreatbigstones,allcoveredwithmoss,forseats,andboardsfromtreetotreeforshelves.Andwehaveallourdishesonthem. Ofcourse,they’reallbrokenbutit’stheeasiestthingintheworldtoimaginethattheyarewhole. There’sapieceofaplatewithasprayofredandyellowivyonitthatisespeciallybeautiful. Wekeepitintheparlorandwehavethefairyglassthere,too. Thefairyglassisaslovelyasadream. Dianafounditoutinthewoodsbehindtheirchickenhouse. It’sallfullofrainbows—justlittleyoungrainbowsthathaven’tgrownbigyet—andDiana’smothertoldheritwasbrokenoffahanginglamptheyoncehad. Butit’snicetoimaginethefairieslostitonenightwhentheyhadaball,sowecallitthefairyglass.Matthewisgoingtomakeusatable. Oh,wehavenamedthatlittleroundpooloverinMr.Barry’sfieldWillowmere. IgotthatnameoutofthebookDianalentme.Thatwasathrillingbook,Marilla.Theheroinehadfivelovers. I’dbesatisfiedwithone,wouldn’tyou? Shewasveryhandsomeandshewentthroughgreattribulations.Shecouldfaintaseasyasanything. I’dlovetobeabletofaint,wouldn’tyou,Marilla?It’ssoromantic. ButI’mreallyveryhealthyforallI’msothin.IbelieveI’mgettingfatter,though.Don’tyouthinkIam? IlookatmyelbowseverymorningwhenIgetuptoseeifanydimplesarecoming. Dianaishavinganewdressmadewithelbowsleeves.Sheisgoingtowearittothepicnic. Oh,IdohopeitwillbefinenextWednesday. Idon’tfeelthatIcouldendurethedisappointmentifanythinghappenedtopreventmefromgettingtothepicnic. IsupposeI’dlivethroughit,butI’mcertainitwouldbealifelongsorrow. Itwouldn’tmatterifIgottoahundredpicnicsinafteryears;theywouldn’tmakeupformissingthisone. They’regoingtohaveboatsontheLakeofShiningWaters—andicecream,asItoldyou.Ihavenevertastedicecream. Dianatriedtoexplainwhatitwaslike,butIguessicecreamisoneofthosethingsthatarebeyondimagination.” “Anne,youhavetalkedevenonfortenminutesbytheclock,”saidMarilla.“Now,justforcuriosity’ssake,seeifyoucanholdyourtongueforthesamelengthoftime.” Anneheldhertongueasdesired.Butfortherestoftheweekshetalkedpicnicandthoughtpicnicanddreamedpicnic. OnSaturdayitrainedandsheworkedherselfupintosuchafranticstatelestitshouldkeeponraininguntilandoverWednesdaythatMarillamadehersewanextrapatchworksquarebywayofsteadyinghernerves. OnSundayAnneconfidedtoMarillaonthewayhomefromchurchthatshegrewactuallycoldalloverwithexcitementwhentheministerannouncedthepicnicfromthepulpit. “Suchathrillaswentupanddownmyback,Marilla! Idon’tthinkI’deverreallybelieveduntilthenthattherewashonestlygoingtobeapicnic. Icouldn’thelpfearingI’donlyimaginedit. Butwhenaministersaysathinginthepulpityoujusthavetobelieveit.” “Yousetyourhearttoomuchonthings,Anne,”saidMarilla,withasigh.“I’mafraidthere’llbeagreatmanydisappointmentsinstoreforyouthroughlife.” “Oh,Marilla,lookingforwardtothingsishalfthepleasureofthem,”exclaimedAnne. “Youmayn’tgetthethingsthemselves;butnothingcanpreventyoufromhavingthefunoflookingforwardtothem. Mrs.Lyndesays,‘Blessedaretheywhoexpectnothingfortheyshallnotbedisappointed.’ ButIthinkitwouldbeworsetoexpectnothingthantobedisappointed.” Marillaworeheramethystbroochtochurchthatdayasusual. Marillaalwaysworeheramethystbroochtochurch. Shewouldhavethoughtitrathersacrilegioustoleaveitoff—asbadasforgettingherBibleorhercollectiondime. ThatamethystbroochwasMarilla’smosttreasuredpossession. AseafaringunclehadgivenittohermotherwhointurnhadbequeathedittoMarilla. Itwasanold-fashionedoval,containingabraidofhermother’shair,surroundedbyaborderofveryfineamethysts. Marillaknewtoolittleaboutpreciousstonestorealizehowfinetheamethystsactuallywere;butshethoughtthemverybeautifulandwasalwayspleasantlyconsciousoftheirvioletshimmeratherthroat,abovehergoodbrownsatindress,evenalthoughshecouldnotseeit. Annehadbeensmittenwithdelightedadmirationwhenshefirstsawthatbrooch. “Oh,Marilla,it’saperfectlyelegantbrooch. Idon’tknowhowyoucanpayattentiontothesermonortheprayerswhenyouhaveiton.Icouldn’t,Iknow.Ithinkamethystsarejustsweet. TheyarewhatIusedtothinkdiamondswerelike. Longago,beforeIhadeverseenadiamond,IreadaboutthemandItriedtoimaginewhattheywouldbelike. Ithoughttheywouldbelovelyglimmeringpurplestones. WhenIsawarealdiamondinalady’sringonedayIwassodisappointedIcried. Ofcourse,itwasverylovelybutitwasn’tmyideaofadiamond. Willyouletmeholdthebroochforoneminute,Marilla? Doyouthinkamethystscanbethesoulsofgoodviolets?” 
