She had looked on so many unlovely places in her life, poor child; but this was as lovely as anything she had ever dreamed.
She knelt there, lost to everything but the loveliness around her, until she was startled by a hand on her shoulder.

Marilla had come in unheard by the small dreamer.
"It's time you were dressed," she said curtly.
Marilla really did not know how to talk to the child, and her uncomfortable ignorance made her crisp and curt when she did not mean to be.
Anne stood up and drew a long breath.
"Oh, isn't it wonderful ?" she said, waving her hand comprehensively at the good world outside.
"It's a big tree," said Marilla, "and it blooms great, but the fruit don't amount to much never--small and wormy." "Oh, I don't mean just the tree; of course it's lovely--yes, it's RADIANTLY lovely--it blooms as if it meant it--but I meant everything, the garden and the orchard and the brook and the woods, the whole big dear world.

Don't you feel as if you just loved the world on a morning like this?
And I can hear the brook laughing all the way up here.
Have you ever noticed what cheerful things brooks are?
They're always laughing.

Even in winter-time I've heard them under the ice.

I'm so glad there's a brook near Green Gables.