I hope I shall be a little like Mrs. Allan when I grow up . Do you think there is any prospect of it , Marilla ? '' `` I should n't say there was a great deal '' was Marilla 's encouraging answer . `` I 'm sure Mrs. Allan was never such a silly , forgetful little girl as you are . '' `` No ; but she was n't always so good as she is now either , '' said Anne seriously . `` She told me so herself -- that is , she said she was a dreadful mischief when she was a girl and was always getting into scrapes . I felt so encouraged when I heard that . Is it very wicked of me , Marilla , to feel encouraged when I hear that other people have been bad and mischievous ? Mrs. Lynde says it is . Mrs. Lynde says she always feels shocked when she hears of anyone ever having been naughty , no matter how small they were . Mrs. Lynde says she once heard a minister confess that when he was a boy he stole a strawberry tart out of his aunt 's pantry and she never had any respect for that minister again . Now , I would n't have felt that way . I 'd have thought that it was real noble of him to confess it , and I 'd have thought what an encouraging thing it would be for small boys nowadays who do naughty things and are sorry for them to know that perhaps they may grow up to be ministers in spite of it . That 's how I 'd feel , Marilla . '' `` The way I feel at present , Anne , '' said Marilla , `` is that it 's high time you had those dishes washed . You 've taken half an hour longer than you should with all your chattering . Learn to work first and talk afterwards . '' CHAPTER XXVII . Vanity and Vexation of Spirit Marilla , walking home one late April evening from an Aid meeting , realized that the winter was over and gone with the thrill of delight that spring never fails to bring to the oldest and saddest as well as to the youngest and merriest . Marilla was not given to subjective analysis of her thoughts and feelings .
She probably imagined that she was thinking about the Aids and their missionary box and the new carpet for the vestry room , but under these reflections was a harmonious consciousness of red fields smoking into pale-purply mists in the declining sun , of long , sharp-pointed fir shadows falling over the meadow beyond the brook , of still , crimson-budded maples around a mirrorlike wood pool , XXXXX a wakening in the world and a stir of hidden pulses under the gray sod .
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