"You shouldn't have done anything of the sort. You should
have listened to Mr. Bell."

"But he wasn't talking to me," protested Anne. "He was
talking to God and he didn't seem to be very much inter-
ested in it, either. I think he thought God was too far off
though. There was a long row of white birches hanging over
the lake and the sunshine fell down through them, 'way, 'way
down, deep into the water. Oh, Marilla, it was like a
beautiful dream! It gave me a thrill and I just said,
`Thank you for it, God,' two or three times."

"Not out loud, I hope," said Marilla anxiously.

"Oh, no, just under my breath. Well, Mr. Bell did get through
at last and they told me to go into the classroom with Miss
Rogerson's class. There were nine other girls in it.
They all had puffed sleeves. I tried to imagine mine
were puffed, too, but I couldn't. Why couldn't I? It was
as easy as could be to imagine they were puffed when I was
alone in the east gable, but it was awfully hard there
among the others who had really truly puffs."

"You shouldn't have been thinking about your sleeves in
Sunday school. You should have been attending to the lesson.
I hope you knew it."

"Oh, yes; and I answered a lot of questions. Miss Rogerson
asked ever so many. I don't think it was fair for her