Poor Marilla. She is probably still nervously reeling from Rachel’s Job-friend-like 😉 advice, and now she has to deal with a GIRL.
Anne’s outbursts are funny, but man, she really is such a cheerful child for having had very little love in her life. Her imagination and the beautiful ideas that she has read in books have helped keep the hope alive, a little bit at least, I think.
I love this part…
“Oh, this is the most tragical thing that ever happened to me!”
Something like a reluctant smile, rather rusty from long disuse, mellowed Marilla’s grim expression.
What’s your name?
The child hesitated for a moment.
“Will you please call me Cordelia?” she said eagerly.
“Call you Cordelia! Is that your name?”
“No-o-o, it’s not exactly my name, but I would love to be called Cordelia. It’s such a perfectly elegant name.”
“I don’t know what on earth you mean. If Cordelia isn’t your name, what is it?”
This whole part is just so funny and sweet. Marilla’s bewilderment, Anne’s anguish…so many little things. I find myself in the “depths of despair” quite often myself, in fact, my husband sometimes will ask me if I’m wallowing in them. He knows me so well. Ha. 🙂
I love the description of the room from Anne’s point of view…I laughed out loud specifically at this…
“…with a fat, red velvet pincushion hard enough to turn the point of the most adventurous pin. ”
I love how Montgomery is showing us Anne’s frame of mind through her perception of the room. Such beautiful writing!
I love Matthew’s heart here…
“I suppose – we could hardly be expected to keep her.”
“I should say not. What good would she be to us?”
“We might be some good to her,” said Matthew suddenly and unexpectedly. ❤
And upstairs, in the east gable, a lonely, heart-hungry, friendless child cried herself to sleep. pg 29
Aww. Sweet, yet sad chapter.