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Chapter I. Mrs. Rachel Lynde Is Surprised
Chapter II. Matthew Cuthbert Is surprised
Chapter III. Marilla Cuthbert Is Surprised
Chapter IV. Morning at Green Gables
Chapter V. Anne’s History
Chapter VI. Marilla Makes Up Her Mind
Chapter VII. Anne Says Her Prayers
Chapter VIII. Anne’s Bringing-up Is Begun
Chapter IX. Mrs. Rachel Lynde Is Properly Horrified
Chapter X. Anne’s Apology
Chapter XI. Anne’s Impressions of Sunday-School
Chapter XII. A Solemn Vow and Promise
Chapter XIII. The Delights of Anticipation
Chapter XIV. Anne’s Confession
Chapter XV. A Tempest in the School Teapot
Chapter XVI. Diana Is Invited to Tea with Tragic Results
Chapter XVII. A New Interest in Life
Chapter XVIII. Anne to the Rescue
Chapter XIX. A Concert, a Catastrophe, and a Confession
Chapter XX. A Good Imagination Gone Wrong
Chapter XXI. A New Departure in Flavorings
Chapter XXII. Anne Is Invited Out to Tea
Chapter XXIII. Anne Comes to Grief in an Affair of Honor
Chapter XXIV. Miss Stacy and Her Pupils Get Up a Concert
Chapter XXV. Matthew Insists on Puffed Sleeves
Chapter XXVI. The Story Club Is Formed
Chapter XXVII. Vanity and Vexation of Spirit
Chapter XXVIII. An Unfortunate Lily-Maid
Chapter XXIX. An Epoch in Anne’s Life
Chapter XXX. The Queen’s Class Is Organized
Chapter XXXI. Where the Brook and River Meet
Chapter XXXII. The Pass List Is Out
Chapter XXXIII. The Hotel Concert
Chapter XXXIV. A Queen’s Girl
Chapter XXXV. The Winter at Queen’s
Chapter XXXVI. The Glory and the Dream
Chapter XXXVII. The Reaper Whose Name Is Death
Chapter XXXVIII. The Bend in the Road
Vocabulary
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Mrs. Rachel Lynde lived just where the Avonlea main road dipped down into a little hollow, fringed with alders and ladies’ eardrops and traversed by a brook that had its source away back in the woods of the old Cuthbert place; it was reputed to be an intricate, headlong brook in its earlier course through those woods, with dark secrets of pool and cascade; but by the time it reached Lynde’s Hollow it was a quiet, well-conducted little stream, for not even a brook could run past Mrs. Rachel Lynde’s door without due regard for decency and decorum; it probably was conscious that Mrs. Rachel was sitting at her window, keeping a sharp eye on everything that passed[1], from brooks and children up, and that if she noticed anything odd or out of place she would never rest until she had ferreted out the whys and wherefores thereof.
There are plenty of people in Avonlea and out of it, who can attend closely to their neighbor’s business by dint of neglecting their own; but Mrs. Rachel Lynde was one of those capable creatures who can manage their own concerns and those of other folks into the bargain. She was a notable housewife; her work was always done and well done; she “ran” the Sewing Circle, helped run the Sunday-school, and was the strongest prop of the Church Aid Society and Foreign Missions Auxiliary. Yet with all this Mrs. Rachel found abundant time to sit for hours at her kitchen window, knitting “cotton warp” quilts – she had knitted sixteen of them, as Avonlea housekeepers were wont to tell in awed voices – and keeping a sharp eye on the main road that crossed the hollow and wound up the steep red hill beyond. Since Avonlea occupied a little triangular peninsula jutting out into the Gulf of St. Lawrence with water on two sides of it, anybody who went out of it or into it had to pass over that hill road and so run the unseen gauntlet of Mrs. Rachel’s all-seeing eye.
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“Well, whatever it was it must have been something nice because she was divinely beautiful. Have you ever imagined what it must feel like to be divinely beautiful?”
“Well now, no, I haven’t,” confessed Matthew ingenuously.
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