"I suppose I was very awkward," said Anne apologetically, "but then, you see, I'd never had any practice.
You couldn't really expect a person to pray very well the first time she tried, could you? I thought out a splendid prayer after I went to bed, just as I promised you I would.
It was nearly as long as a minister's and so poetical.
But would you believe it? I couldn't remember one word when I woke up this morning.
And I'm afraid I'll never be able to think out another one as good.
Somehow, things never are so good when they're thought out a second time.
Have you ever noticed that?"
"Here is something for you to notice, Anne. When I tell you to do a thing I want you to obey me at once and not stand stock-still and discourse about it. Just you go and do as I bid you."
Anne promptly departed for the sitting-room across the hall; she failed to return; after waiting ten minutes Marilla laid down her knitting and marched after her with a grim expression.
She found Anne standing motionless before a picture hanging on the wall between the two windows, with her eyes astar with dreams.