And the coming of Anne--the vivid, imaginative, impetuous child with her heart of love, and her world of fancy, bringing with her color and warmth and radiance, until the wilderness of existence had blossomed like the rose.

Marilla felt that out of her sixty years she had lived only the nine that had followed the advent of Anne.

And Anne would be home tomorrow night.
The kitchen door opened.

Marilla looked up expecting to see Mrs.Lynde.
Anne stood before her, tall and starry-eyed, with her hands full of Mayflowers and violets.
"Anne Shirley!" exclaimed Marilla.

For once in her life she was surprised out of her reserve; she caught her girl in her arms and crushed her and her flowers against her heart, kissing the bright hair and sweet face warmly.