"I'm not likely to forget it ever." "They used to sing so madly in the marsh and brook that year.

I would listen to them at my window in the dusk, and wonder how they could seem so glad and so sad at the same time.

Oh, but it's good to be home again! Redmond was splendid and Bolingbroke delightful--but Green Gables is HOME." "Gilbert isn't coming home this summer, I hear," said Marilla.
"No." Something in Anne's tone made Marilla glance at her sharply, but Anne was apparently absorbed in arranging her violets in a bowl.

"See, aren't they sweet ?" she went on hurriedly.

"The year is a book, isn't it, Marilla?
Spring's pages are written in Mayflowers and violets, summer's in roses, autumn's in red maple leaves, and winter in holly and evergreen." "Did Gilbert do well in his examinations ?" persisted Marilla.
"Excellently well.