When Marilla went home Anne came out of the fragrant twilight
of the orchard with a sheaf of white narcissi in her hands.

"I apologized pretty well, didn't I?" she said proudly as
they went down the lane. "I thought since I had to do it
I might as well do it thoroughly."

"You did it thoroughly, all right enough," was Marilla's
comment. Marilla was dismayed at finding herself inclined
to laugh over the recollection. She had also an uneasy
feeling that she ought to scold Anne for apologizing so well;
but then, that was ridiculous! She compromised with her
conscience by saying severely:

"I hope you won't have occasion to make many more such
apologies. I hope you'll try to control your temper now, Anne."

"That wouldn't be so hard if people wouldn't twit me about
my looks," said Anne with a sigh. "I don't get cross about
other things; but I'm SO tired of being twitted about my hair
and it just makes me boil right over. Do you suppose
my hair will really be a handsome auburn when I grow up?"

"You shouldn't think so much about your looks, Anne. I'm
afraid you are a very vain little girl."

"How can I be vain when I know I'm homely?" protested
Anne. "I love pretty things; and I hate to look in
the glass and see something that isn't pretty. It makes me
feel so sorrowful--just as I feel when I look at any ugly