She 's a sly puss . If you dug for a thousand years you could n't get to the bottom of that child 's mind , believe ME ! As for work , I never saw anything like her . She EATS it up . Mrs. Wiley may have been cruel to her , but folks need n't say she made Mary work . Mary 's a born worker . Sometimes I wonder which will wear out first -- her legs or her tongue . I do n't have enough to do to keep me out of mischief these days . I 'll be real glad when school opens , for then I 'll have something to do again . Mary does n't want to go to school , but I put my foot down and said that go she must . I shall NOT have the Methodists saying that I kept her out of school while I lolled in idleness . '' CHAPTER XIII . THE HOUSE ON THE HILL There was a little unfailing spring , always icy cold and crystal pure , in a certain birch-screened hollow of Rainbow Valley in the lower corner near the marsh . Not a great many people knew of its existence . The manse and Ingleside children knew , of course , as they knew everything else about the magic valley . Occasionally they went there to get a drink , and it figured in many of their plays as a fountain of old romance . Anne knew of it and loved it because it somehow reminded her of the beloved Dryad 's Bubble at Green Gables . Rosemary West knew of it ; it was her fountain of romance , too . Eighteen years ago she had sat behind it one spring twilight and heard young Martin Crawford stammer out a confession of fervent , boyish love . She had whispered her own secret in return , and they had kissed and promised by the wild wood spring .
They had never stood together XXXXX it again -- Martin had sailed on his fatal voyage soon after ; but to Rosemary West it was always a sacred spot , hallowed by that immortal hour of youth and love .
about ago as at behind by for of that to