Chapter IV. Morning at Green Gables

           

           ItwasbroaddaylightwhenAnneawokeandsatupinbed,staringconfusedlyatthewindowthroughwhichafloodofcheerysunshinewaspouringandoutsideofwhichsomethingwhiteandfeatherywavedacrossglimpsesofbluesky.

           Foramomentshecouldnotrememberwhereshewas.Firstcameadelightfulthrill,assomethingverypleasant;thenahorribleremembrance.ThiswasGreenGablesandtheydidn’twantherbecauseshewasn’taboy!

           Butitwasmorningand,yes,itwasacherry-treeinfullbloomoutsideofherwindow.Withaboundshewasoutofbedandacrossthefloor.Shepushedupthesash—itwentupstifflyandcreakily,asifithadn’tbeenopenedforalongtime,whichwasthecase;anditstucksotightthatnothingwasneededtoholditup.

           AnnedroppedonherkneesandgazedoutintotheJunemorning,hereyesglisteningwithdelight.Oh,wasn’titbeautiful?Wasn’titalovelyplace?Supposeshewasn’treallygoingtostayhere!Shewouldimagineshewas.Therewasscopeforimaginationhere.

           Ahugecherry-treegrewoutside,soclosethatitsboughstappedagainstthehouse,anditwassothick-setwithblossomsthathardlyaleafwastobeseen.Onbothsidesofthehousewasabigorchard,oneofapple-treesandoneofcherry-trees,alsoshoweredoverwithblossoms;andtheirgrasswasallsprinkledwithdandelions.Inthegardenbelowwerelilac-treespurplewithflowers,andtheirdizzilysweetfragrancedrifteduptothewindowonthemorningwind.

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