The floor was bare , too , except for a round braided mat in the middle such as Anne had never seen before . In one corner was the bed , a high , old-fashioned one , with four dark , low-turned posts . In the other corner was the aforesaid three-corner table adorned with a fat , red velvet pin-cushion hard enough to turn the point of the most adventurous pin . Above it hung a little six-by-eight mirror . Midway between table and bed was the window , with an icy white muslin frill over it , and opposite it was the wash-stand . The whole apartment was of a rigidity not to be described in words , but which sent a shiver to the very marrow of Anne 's bones . With a sob she hastily discarded her garments , put on the skimpy nightgown and sprang into bed where she burrowed face downward into the pillow and pulled the clothes over her head . When Marilla came up for the light various skimpy articles of raiment scattered most untidily over the floor and a certain tempestuous appearance of the bed were the only indications of any presence save her own . She deliberately picked up Anne 's clothes , placed them neatly on a prim yellow chair , and then , taking up the candle , went over to the bed . `` Good night , '' she said , a little awkwardly , but not unkindly . Anne 's white face and big eyes appeared over the bedclothes with a startling suddenness . `` How can you call it a GOOD night when you know it must be the very worst night I 've ever had ? '' she said reproachfully . Then she dived down into invisibility again . Marilla went slowly down to the kitchen and proceeded to wash the supper dishes . Matthew was smoking -- a sure sign of perturbation of mind . He seldom smoked , for Marilla set her face against it as a filthy habit ; but at certain times and seasons he felt driven to it and them Marilla winked at the practice , realizing that a mere man must have some vent for his emotions . `` Well , this is a pretty kettle of fish , '' she said wrathfully . `` This is what comes of sending word instead of going ourselves . Richard Spencer 's folks have twisted that message somehow .
One XXXXX us will have to drive over and see Mrs. Spencer tomorrow , that 's certain .
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