`` There 's so much good eating in it . The characters seem always to be reveling on ham and eggs and milk punch . I generally go on a cupboard rummage after reading Pickwick . The mere thought reminds me that I 'm starving . Is there any tidbit in the pantry , Queen Anne ? '' `` I made a lemon pie this morning . You may have a piece of it . '' Phil dashed out to the pantry and Anne betook herself to the orchard in company with Rusty . It was a moist , pleasantly-odorous night in early spring . The snow was not quite all gone from the park ; a little dingy bank of it yet lay under the pines of the harbor road , screened from the influence of April suns . It kept the harbor road muddy , and chilled the evening air . But grass was growing green in sheltered spots and Gilbert had found some pale , sweet arbutus in a hidden corner . He came up from the park , his hands full of it . Anne was sitting on the big gray boulder in the orchard looking at the poem of a bare , birchen bough hanging against the pale red sunset with the very perfection of grace . She was building a castle in air -- a wondrous mansion whose sunlit courts and stately halls were steeped in Araby 's perfume , and where she reigned queen and chatelaine . She frowned as she saw Gilbert coming through the orchard . Of late she had managed not to be left alone with Gilbert . But he had caught her fairly now ; and even Rusty had deserted her . Gilbert sat down beside her on the boulder and held out his Mayflowers . `` Do n't these remind you of home and our old schoolday picnics , Anne ? ''
Anne took them and buried her face XXXXX them .
Of after as from in that through to under with