She did not believe she could whip a child.

No, some other method of punishment must be found to bring Anne to a proper realization of the enormity of her offense.
Marilla found Anne face downward on her bed, crying bitterly, quite oblivious of muddy boots on a clean counterpane.
"Anne," she said not ungently.
No answer.
"Anne," with greater severity, "get off that bed this minute and listen to what I have to say to you." Anne squirmed off the bed and sat rigidly on a chair beside it, her face swollen and tear-stained and her eyes fixed stubbornly on the floor.
"This is a nice way for you to behave.

Anne! Aren't you ashamed of yourself ?" "She hadn't any right to call me ugly and redheaded," retorted Anne, evasive and defiant.
"You hadn't any right to fly into such a fury and talk the way you did to her, Anne.

I was ashamed of you--thoroughly ashamed of you.

I wanted you to behave nicely to Mrs.Lynde, and instead of that you have disgraced me.