"I've decided to enjoy this drive," Anne said to Marilla on the way to Mrs. Spencer's house.
"I've learned you can nearly always enjoy something if you try hard.
I'm not going to think about going back to the orphanage.
I'm just going to think about the drive.
Oh look, there's a wild rose!" she went on.
"Isn't it lovely? Wouldn't it be nice if roses could talk?
And isn't pink the most bewitching color in the world?
I love it, but I can't wear it. Redheaded people can't wear pink.
Do you know anybody whose hair color changed when they grew up?"
"No," said Marilla wearily. "And I don't think your hair color will change either."
"Well, that's another hope gone. My life is a graveyard of buried hopes.
That's a sentence I read in a book once.
I say it to comfort myself when I'm disappointed."
"How does it comfort you?" asked Marilla, surprised.
"Why, because it sounds so nice and romantic, as if I were a heroine in a book."
"If you're going to keep talking, you should tell me something about yourself," said Marilla.
"Can I make it up?" Anne asked. "It'll be much more interesting."
"No, I don't want any stories. Just stick to the facts.
Where were you born and how old are you?" asked Marilla sternly.
"I was eleven last March," said Anne, "and I was born in Nova Scotia.
My father and mother were both high school teachers.
They were very poor and lived in a tiny yellow house. I was born in that house.
Mrs. Thomas said I was an ugly baby, scrawny and thin, but that my mother thought I was perfectly beautiful.
She died of fever when I was only three months old.
And soon after, my father died from fever too.
So I was an orphan and nobody knew what to do with me.
Father and Mother had both come from places far away and had no relatives around.
Finally Mrs. Thomas took me in, even though she was poor and her husband was a drunk.
I lived with them until I was eight years old.
I helped look after the children, and it was hard work.
Then Mr. Thomas was killed when he fell under a train.
After that I lived with the Hammonds, who had eight children.
She had twins three times! I like babies, but twins three times is too much!
I got so tired carrying them around.
I lived with the Hammonds for two years, and then Mr. Hammond died.
I had to go to the orphanage because the Hammonds didn't want me any longer either.
It was too crowded in their house."
"Did you ever go to school?" Marilla asked.
"A little bit," answered Anne. "I can read well, and I know lots of poetry! Don't you just love poetry?"
"Were those women, Mrs. Thomas and Mrs. Hammond, good to you?" asked Marilla, looking at Anne carefully.
"Uh . . . um . . . ," stammered Anne, blushing with embarrassment.
"They tried to be good to me. I'm sure they meant to be good."
Marilla asked no more questions. She suddenly felt pity for Anne, who hadn't had much love in her short life.
Soon they arrived at Mrs. Spencer's house.
"Well," Mrs. Spencer exclaimed, "you're the last folks I expected! How are you, Anne?"
"All right," said Anne without smiling.
"Mrs. Spencer," began Marilla. "I'm sorry, but there's been a mistake.
We told the orphanage we wanted a boy."
"Oh!" Mrs. Spencer said. "That's too bad. I'm very sorry."
"I'm sorry too," said Marilla. "Can we send the child back?
The orphanage will take her, won't they?"
"I suppose so," said Mrs. Spencer thoughtfully.
"But wait a minute. Mrs. Blewett was here yesterday.
She told me she would like a little girl.
Marilla was not very pleased to hear this.
Mrs. Blewett had a terrible temper and did not treat servant girls well.
"Look, there's Mrs. Blewett now!" said Mrs. Spencer.
A thin-faced, frowning woman came over to the house.
"How lucky! She can take Anne now!"
Mrs. Spencer explained the mistake to Mrs. Blewett.
Mrs. Blewett looked Anne over from head to toe.
"How old are you and what's your name?" she demanded.
"My name is Anne Shirley, and I'm eleven years old," Anne replied.
"You're too thin, but you're wiry," snapped Mrs. Blewett.
"The wiry ones are the best. You'll be a good girl and work hard.
All right, Miss Cuthbert," she said to Marilla. "I'll take her home now."
"I don't know," Marilla said slowly. "Matthew and I haven't decided what to do yet.
If we decide not to keep Anne, I'll send her over tomorrow."
"All right," said Mrs. Blewett ungraciously.
At Marilla's words Anne's eyes grew bright like stars.
"Can I really stay at Green Gables?" she whispered to Marilla.
"We'll decide tonight," said Marilla crossly. "But you heard me.
You might go to Mrs. Blewett. She needs you more than Matthew and I do."
"Oh, send me to the orphanage instead! Mrs. Blewett looks like a monster!" said Anne.
"Anne Shirley! Don't talk like that!" Marilla scolded.
"Go and sit quietly and be a good girl!"
"I'll be anything you want, if you will keep me," pleaded Anne.
Later Marilla told Matthew about Anne's history and the trip to Mrs. Spencer's house.
"I wouldn't give a dog to Mrs. Blewett!" said Matthew.
"I don't like Mrs. Blewett's style either," admitted Marilla, "Since you want to keep the girl, I suppose she can stay.
I've never brought up a child, especially a girl.
I'll probably make a mess of it, but I'll do my best."
Matthew's shy face glowed with delight. "Marilla, I hoped you would change your mind. She's such an interesting little thing."
"Yes, well, don't interfere, Matthew," Marilla said.
"I won't tell Anne tonight because she'll be so excited she won't sleep.
An old maid might not know much about raising children, but neither does an old bachelor!
Goodness knows what will come of it!"