fully,
turning to Matthew, "why didn't you tell me at the station that you
didn't want me and leave me there? If I hadn't seen the White Way of
Delight and the Lake of Shining Waters it wouldn't be so hard."

"What on earth does she mean?" demanded Marilla, staring at Matthew.

"She--she's just referring to some conversation we had on the road,"
said Matthew hastily. "I'm going out to put the mare in, Marilla. Have
tea ready when I come back."

"Did Mrs. Spencer bring anybody over besides you?" continued Marilla
when Matthew had gone out.

"She brought Lily Jones for herself. Lily is only five years old and she
is very beautiful and had nut-brown hair. If I was very beautiful and
had nut-brown hair would you keep me?"

"No. We want a boy to help Matthew on the farm. A girl would be of
no use to us. Take off your hat. I'll lay it and your bag on the hall
table."

Anne took off her hat meekly. Matthew came back presently and they sat
down to supper. But Anne could not eat. In vain she nibbled at the
bread and butter and pecked at the crab-apple preserve out of the little
scalloped glass dish by her plate. She did not really make any headway
at all.

"You're not eating anything," said Marilla sharply, eying her as if it
were a serious shortcoming. Anne sighed.

"I can't. I'm in the depths of despair. Can you eat when you are in the
depths of despair?"

"I've never been in the depths of despair, so I can't say," responded
Marilla.

"Weren't you? Well, did you ever try to IMAGINE you were in the depths
of despair?"

"No, I didn't."

"Then I don't think you can understand what it's like. It's very
uncomfortable feeling indeed. When you try to eat a lump comes right
up in your throat and you can't swallow anything, not even if it was a
chocolate caramel. I had one chocolate caramel once two years ago and it
was simply delicious. I've often dreamed since then that I had a lot
of chocolate caramels, but I always wake up just when I'm going to eat
them. I do hope you won't be offended because I can't eat. Everything is
extremely nice, but still I cannot eat."

"I guess she's tired," said Matthew, who hadn't spoken since his return
from the barn. "Best put her to bed, Marilla."

Marilla had been wondering where Anne should be put to bed. She had
prepared a couch in the kitchen chamber for the desired and expected
boy. But, although it was neat and clean, it did not seem quite the
thing to put a girl there someh