She knew that she was going to cry, and fought against it.
"I WON'T cry.

It's silly--and weak--there's the third tear splashing down by my nose.

There are more coming! I must think of something funny to stop them.

But there's nothing funny except what is connected with Avonlea, and that only makes things worse--four--five--I'm going home next Friday, but that seems a hundred years away.

Oh, Matthew is nearly home by now--and Marilla is at the gate, looking down the lane for him--six--seven--eight--oh, there's no use in counting them! They're coming in a flood presently.