Chapter XIII

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 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 Idlewhatever-
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."