✨CHAPTER FOUR✨

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———"Why must Marilla be so unkind to dear Anne?" Marigold Abbot asked as she played with the hay she was laying on

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"Why must Marilla be so unkind to dear Anne?" Marigold Abbot asked as she played with the hay she was laying on.

"I don't think she was trying to be, darling," Matthew said, trying to defend his sister, even though he didn't like what she has done either.

"Well she was," The blonde declared, "My one chance to have a sister Marilla had to go and take her away! That...that...witch!"

"Hey now," Matthew said," Don't be going around calling people that."

"Sorry, Matthew," Mary apologized, "It's just... why couldn't she give her a chance?"

Before Matthew could answer, the sound of an approaching carriage interrupted him.

"That must be Marilla," He stated," Can you go open the gate for her?"

Marigold huffed in response and cleaned off the hay on her dress. Exiting the barn she heard a yell.

"Marigold!"

She looked up to see a familiar redhead waving her hand.

"Anne!" The blonde sprinted to open the gate. Hearing the commotion, Matthew left the barn. A small smile creeped onto his face. After getting the carriage in, Anne stepped off and engulfed Marigold in hug, almost knocking the girl down.

"I'll thank you to keep your questions to yourself until we can speak in private," Marilla shushed Matthew as she got off the carriage.

"Run along inside," She told Anne, "Put your bag upstairs and put the kettle on."

"Yes, Miss Cuthbert," Anne replied, grabbing Marigold's hand and running inside. As soon as the two made it to the gable room, they embraced each other into another hug.

"Oh, I'm so delighted for you to be here," Marigold told the red head, not letting up from the hug. "How ever did you convince Marilla for you stay?"

"She had a sudden change of heart and is letting me have an one week trial to prove that I'll be a valuable asset to Green Gable."

"I am foresuranet that you'll prove yourself quite well Ms. Shirley."

"Why thank you, Ms. Cuthbert." The giggled at their words sat onto the bed.

"Oh, Marigold," Anne said, falling back onto her bed. "If you could bestow upon me one of your beautiful poems?"

"You don't want to hear one of my silly poems, my dear Anne."

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