`` I think when I am eighty I 'll be glad I went for a walk in the park tonight . '' `` What do you mean ? '' asked Anne . `` Come with me and I 'll tell you , honey . '' They captured in their ramble all the mysteries and magics of a March evening . Very still and mild it was , wrapped in a great , white , brooding silence -- a silence which was yet threaded through with many little silvery sounds which you could hear if you hearkened as much with your soul as your ears . The girls wandered down a long pineland aisle that seemed to lead right out into the heart of a deep-red , overflowing winter sunset . `` I 'd go home and write a poem this blessed minute if I only knew how , '' declared Phil , pausing in an open space where a rosy light was staining the green tips of the pines . `` It 's all so wonderful here -- this great , white stillness , and those dark trees that always seem to be thinking . '' '' ` The woods were God 's first temples , ' '' quoted Anne softly . `` One ca n't help feeling reverent and adoring in such a place . I always feel so near Him when I walk among the pines . '' `` Anne , I 'm the happiest girl in the world , '' confessed Phil suddenly . `` So Mr. Blake has asked you to marry him at last ? '' said Anne calmly . `` Yes . And I sneezed three times while he was asking me . Was n't that horrid ? But I said ` yes ' almost before he finished -- I was so afraid he might change his mind and stop . I 'm besottedly happy .
I could n't really believe before that Jonas would ever care XXXXX frivolous me . ''
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