sumerize the story
Story: Anne had been a fortnight at Green Gables before Mrs. Lynde arrived to inspect her.
. . .
Anne came running in presently, her face sparkling with the delight of her orchard
rovings; but, abashed at finding the delight herself in the unexpected presence of a
stranger, she halted confusedly inside the door. She certainly was an odd-looking little
creature in the short tight wincey dress she had worn from the asylum, below which her
thin legs seemed ungracefully long. Her freckles were more numerous and obtrusive
than ever; the wind had ruffled her hatless hair into over-brilliant disorder; it had never
looked redder than at that moment.
“Well, they didn’t pick you for your looks, that’s sure and certain,” was Mrs. Rachel
Lynde’s emphatic comment. Mrs. Rachel was one of those delightful and popular
people who pride themselves on speaking their mind without fear or favor. “She’s
terrible skinny and homely, Marilla. Come here, child, and let me have a look at you.
Lawful heart, did any one ever see such freckles? And hair as red as carrots! Come
here, child, I say.”
Anne “came there,” but not exactly as Mrs. Rachel expected. With one bound she
crossed the kitchen floor and stood before Mrs. Rachel, her face scarlet with anger, her
lips quivering, and her whole slender form trembling from head to foot.
“I hate you,” she cried in a choked voice, stamping her foot on the floor. “I hate you—I
hate you—I hate you—” a louder stamp with each assertion of hatred. “How dare you
call me skinny and ugly? How dare you say I’m freckled and redheaded? You are a
rude, impolite, unfeeling woman!”
“Anne!” exclaimed Marilla in consternation.
But Anne continued to face Mrs. Rachel undauntedly, head up, eyes blazing, hands
clenched, passionate indignation exhaling from her like an atmosphere.
“How dare you say such things about me?” she repeated vehemently. “How would you
like to have such things said about you? How would you like to be told that you are fat
and clumsy and probably hadn’t a spark of imagination in you? I don’t care if I do hurt
your feelings by saying so! I hope I hurt them. You have hurt mine worse than they
were ever hurt before . . . And I’ll never forgive you for it, never, never!”
Stamp! Stamp!
“Did anybody ever see such a temper!” exclaimed the horrified Mrs. Rachel.
“Anne go to your room and stay there until I come up,” said Marilla, recovering her
powers of speech with difficulty.
Anne, bursting into tears, rushed to the hall door, slammed it until the tins on the porch
wall outside rattled in sympathy, and fled through the hall and up the stairs like a
whirlwind. A subdued slam above told that the door of the east gable had been shut
with equal vehemence.
“Well, I don’t envy you your job bringing that up, Marilla,” said Mrs. Rachel with
unspeakable solemnity.
Marilla opened her lips to say she knew not what of apology or deprecation. What she
did say was a surprise to herself then and ever afterwards.
“You shouldn’t have twitted her about her looks, Rachel.”
“Marilla Cuthbert, you don’t mean to say that you are upholding her in such a terrible
display of temper as we’ve just seen?” demanded Mrs. Rachel indignantly.
“No,” said Marilla slowly, “I’m not trying to excuse her. She’s been very naughty and
I’ll have to give her a talking to about it. But we must make allowances for her. She’s
never been taught what is right. And you were too hard on her, Rachel.”
Marilla could not help tacking on that last sentence, although she was again surprised at
herself for doing it. Mrs. Rachel got up with an air of offended dignity.
“Well, I see that I’ll have to be very careful what I say after this, Marilla, since the fine
feelings of orphans, brought from goodness knows where, have to be considered before
anything else. Oh, no, I’m not vexed—don’t worry yourself. I’m too sorry for you to
leave any room for anger in my mind. You’ll have your own troubles with that child. . .
. Her temper matches her hair I guess. Well, good evening, Marilla. I hope you’ll come
down to see me often as usual. But you can’t expect me to visit here again in a hurry, if
I’m liable to be flown at and insulted in such a fashion. It’s something new in my
experience.”