Vanity and Vexation of Spirit

"I'll settle Miss Anne when she comes home," said Marilla grimly,
as she shaved up kindlings with a carving knife and with more vim
than was strictly necessary. Matthew had come in and was waiting
patiently for his tea in his corner. "She's gadding off somewhere
with Diana, writing stories or practicing dialogues or some such
tomfoolery, and never thinking once about the time or her duties.
She's just got to be pulled up short and sudden on this sort of thing.
I don't care if Mrs. Allan does say she's the brightest and sweetest
child she ever knew. She may be bright and sweet enough, but her head
is full of nonsense and there's never any knowing what shape it'll
break out in next. Just as soon as she grows out of one freak
she takes up with another. But there! Here I am saying the very
thing I was so riled with Rachel Lynde for saying at the Aid today.
I was real glad when Mrs. Allan spoke up for Anne, for if she hadn't
I know I'd have said something too sharp to Rachel before everybody.
Anne's got plenty of faults, goodness knows, and far be it from
me to deny it. But I'm bringing her up and not Rachel Lynde, who'd
pick faults in the Angel Gabriel himself if he lived in Avonlea.
Just the same, Anne has no business to leave the house like this when
I told her she was to stay home this afternoon and look after things.
I must say, with all her faults, I never found her disobedient or
untrustworthy before and I'm real sorry to find her so now."