"Don't wish it. Dramatic things always have a bitterness for some one.
What a nice summer all you gay creatures will have! And me moping at
Lowbridge!"

"You'll be over often, won't you? I think there's going to be lots of
fun this summer, though I'll just be on the fringe of things as usual, I
suppose. Isn't it horrid when people think you're a little girl when
you're not?"

"There's plenty of time for you to be grown up, Rilla. Don't wish your
youth away. It goes too quickly. You'll begin to taste life soon
enough."

"Taste life! I want to eat it," cried Rilla, laughing. "I want
everything--everything a girl can have. I'll be fifteen in another
month, and then nobody can say I'm a child any longer. I heard someone
say once that the years from fifteen to nineteen are the best years in a
girl's life. I'm going to make them perfectly splendid--just fill them
with fun."

"There's no use thinking about what you're going to do--you are
tolerably sure not to do it."

"Oh, but you do get a lot of fun out of the thinking," cried Rilla.

"You think of nothing but fun, you monkey," said Miss Oliver
indulgently, reflecting that Rilla's chin was really the last word in
chins. "Well, what else is fifteen for? But have you any notion of going
to college this fall?"