There was a freshness in the air as of a wind that had blown over honey-sweet fields of clover . Home lights twinkled out here and there among the homestead trees . Beyond lay the sea , misty and purple , with its haunting , unceasing murmur . The west was a glory of soft mingled hues , and the pond reflected them all in still softer shadings . The beauty of it all thrilled Anne 's heart , and she gratefully opened the gates of her soul to it . `` Dear old world , '' she murmured , `` you are very lovely , and I am glad to be alive in you . '' Halfway down the hill a tall lad came whistling out of a gate before the Blythe homestead . It was Gilbert , and the whistle died on his lips as he recognized Anne . He lifted his cap courteously , but he would have passed on in silence , if Anne had not stopped and held out her hand . `` Gilbert , '' she said , with scarlet cheeks , `` I want to thank you for giving up the school for me . It was very good of you -- and I want you to know that I appreciate it . '' Gilbert took the offered hand eagerly . `` It was n't particularly good of me at all , Anne . I was pleased to be able to do you some small service . Are we going to be friends after this ? Have you really forgiven me my old fault ? '' Anne laughed and tried unsuccessfully to withdraw her hand . `` I forgave you that day by the pond landing , although I did n't know it . What a stubborn little goose I was . I 've been -- I may as well make a complete confession -- I 've been sorry ever since . ''
`` We are going to be the best of friends , '' said XXXXX , jubilantly .
Anne Blythe Gilbert confession day gates lips pond sea west