"You know we keep up the old custom.

Excuse me while I run over and see what she wants." Anne ran down the clover slope like a deer, and disappeared in the firry shadows of the Haunted Wood.

Mrs.Lynde looked after her indulgently.
"There's a good deal of the child about her yet in some ways." "There's a good deal more of the woman about her in others," retorted Marilla, with a momentary return of her old crispness.
But crispness was no longer Marilla's distinguishing characteristic.

As Mrs.Lynde told her Thomas that night.
"Marilla Cuthbert has got MELLOW.

That's what." Anne went to the little Avonlea graveyard the next evening to put fresh flowers on Matthew's grave and water the Scotch rosebush.