Oh, no, never there! It would have been too terrible--I couldn't have slept a wink from awe.

I never WALKED through that room when Marilla sent me in on an errand--no, indeed, I tiptoed through it and held my breath, as if I were in church, and felt relieved when I got out of it.

The pictures of George Whitefield and the Duke of Wellington hung there, one on each side of the mirror, and frowned so sternly at me all the time I was in, especially if I dared peep in the mirror, which was the only one in the house that didn't twist my face a little.

I always wondered how Marilla dared houseclean that room.

And now it's not only cleaned but stripped bare.