t easy to think you were giving it all up on my account."

"But Marilla, I've never been sorry for a moment that I stayed
home. I've been so happy . . . Oh, these past two years have just been
delightful."

"Oh, yes, I know you've been contented enough. But that isn't the
question exactly. You ought to go on with your education. You've saved
enough to put you through one year at Redmond and the money the stock
brought in will do for another year . . . and there's scholarships and
things you might win."

"Yes, but I can't go, Marilla. Your eyes are better, of course; but I
can't leave you alone with the twins. They need so much looking after."

"I won't be alone with them. That's what I meant to discuss with you.
I had a long talk with Rachel tonight. Anne, she's feeling dreadful bad
over a good many things. She's not left very well off. It seems they
mortgaged the farm eight years ago to give the youngest boy a start
when he went west; and they've never been able to pay much more than the
interest since. And then of course Thomas' illness has cost a good deal,
one way or another. The farm will have to be sold and Rachel thinks
there'll be hardly anything left after the bills are settled. She says
she'll have to go and live with Eliza and it's breaking her heart to
think of leaving Avonlea. A woman of her age doesn't make new friends
and interests easy. And, Anne, as she talked about it the thought came
to me that I would ask her to come and live with me, but I thought I
ought to talk it over with you first before I said anything to her. If I
had Rachel living with me you could go to college. How do you feel about
it?"

"I feel . . . as if . . . somebody . . . had handed me . . . the moon
. . . and I didn't know . . . exactly . . . what to do . . . with it,"
said Anne dazedly. "But as for asking Mrs. Lynde to come here, that is
for you to decide, Marilla. Do you think . . . are you sure . . . you
would like it? Mrs. Lynde is a good woman and a kind neighbor, but . . .
but . . ."

"But she's got her faults, you mean to say? Well, she has, of course;
but I think I'd rather put up with far worse faults than see Rachel go
away from Avonlea. I'd miss her terrible. She's the only close friend
I've got here and I'd be lost without her. We've been neighbors for
forty-five years and we've never had a quarrel . . . though we came rather
near it that time you flew at Mrs. Rachel for calling you homely and
redhaired. Do you r