"I'll take you down after milking." Accordingly, after milking, behold Marilla and Anne walking down the lane, the former erect and triumphant, the latter drooping and dejected.
But halfway down Anne's dejection vanished as if by enchantment.

She lifted her head and stepped lightly along, her eyes fixed on the sunset sky and an air of subdued exhilaration about her.

Marilla beheld the change disapprovingly.

This was no meek penitent such as it behooved her to take into the presence of the offended Mrs.Lynde.
"What are you thinking of, Anne ?" she asked sharply.
"I'm imagining out what I must say to Mrs.Lynde," answered Anne dreamily.
This was satisfactory--or should have been so.

But Marilla could not rid herself of the notion that something in her scheme of punishment was going askew.