When she had gone Mr. Harrison watched her from the window . . . a lithe,
girlish shape, tripping lightheartedly across the fields in the sunset
afterglow.

"I'm a crusty, lonesome, crabbed old chap," he said aloud, "but there's
something about that little girl makes me feel young again . . . and it's
such a pleasant sensation I'd like to have it repeated once in a while."

"Redheaded snippet," croaked Ginger mockingly.

Mr. Harrison shook his fist at the parrot.

"You ornery bird," he muttered, "I almost wish I'd wrung your neck when
my brother the sailor brought you home. Will you never be done getting
me into trouble?"

Anne ran home blithely and recounted her adventures to Marilla, who had
been not a little alarmed by her long absence and was on the point of
starting out to look for her.

"It's a pretty good world, after all, isn't it, Marilla?" concluded Anne
happily. "Mrs. Lynde was complaining the other day that it wasn't much
of a world. She said whenever you looked forward to anything pleasant
you were sure to be more or less disappointed . . . perhaps that is true.
But there is a good side to it too. The bad things don't always come
up to your expectations either . . . they nearly always turn out ever so
much better than you think. I looked forward to a dreadfully unpleasant
experience when I went over to Mr. Harrison's tonight; and instead he
was quite kind and I had almost a nice time. I think we're going to be