It was broad daylight when Anne awoke and sat up in bed, staring confusedly at the window through which a flood of cheery sinshine was pouring and outside of which something white and feathery waved across glimpses of blue sky. For a moment she could not remember where she was. First came a delightful thrill, as of something very pleasant; then a horrible remembrance. This was Green Gabled and they didn't want her because she wasn't a boy! But it was morning and, yes, it was a cherry tree in full bloom outside of her window. With a bound she was out of bed and across the floor. She pushed up the sash it went up stiffly and dreakily, as if it hadn't been opened for a long time, which was the case; and it stuck to tight that nothing was needed to hold it up.   Anne dropped on her knees and gazed out into the June morning, her eyes glistening with delight. Oh, wasn't it beautiful? Wasn't it a lovely place? Suppose she wasn't really going to stay here!