door to peep in.

Anne was sitting on the yellow chair by the window
gazing mournfully out into the garden. Very small and
unhappy she looked, and Matthew's heart smote him.
He softly closed the door and tiptoed over to her.

"Anne," he whispered, as if afraid of being overheard,
"how are you making it, Anne?"

Anne smiled wanly.

"Pretty well. I imagine a good deal, and that helps to
pass the time. Of course, it's rather lonesome. But then,
I may as well get used to that."

Anne smiled again, bravely facing the long years of
solitary imprisonment before her.

Matthew recollected that he must say what he had come
to say without loss of time, lest Marilla return prematurely.
"Well now, Anne, don't you think you'd better do it and
have it over with?" he whispered. "It'll have to be done
sooner or later, you know, for Marilla's a dreadful deter-
mined woman--dreadful determined, Anne. Do it right off,
I say, and have it over."

"Do you mean apologize to Mrs. Lynde?"

"Yes--apologize--that's the very word," said Matthew eagerly.