LITMIR.BIZ

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rel="nofollow" href="#n_13" type="note">[13].”

      "Were those women – Mrs. Thomas and Mrs. Hammond – good to you?” asked Marilla.

      "Oh,” faltered Anne. "They wanted to be. But it's hard to have a drunken husband, you see and many children, don't you think?”

      "Poor child!” thought Marilla. It was a pity to send her back.

      Chapter VI

      Marilla Makes Up Her Mind[14]

      Mrs. Spencer lived in a big yellow house at White Sands Cove, and she came to the door with surprise.

      "Dear, dear![15]” she exclaimed, "I'm glad to see you. How are you, Anne?”

      "I'm well, thank you,” said Anne smilelessly.

      "I suppose we'll stay a little,” said Marilla, "but I promised Matthew to be home early. The fact is, Mrs. Spencer, there is a queer mistake somewhere. We asked you, Matthew and I, to bring us a boy from the asylum. We told your brother Robert to tell you we wanted a boy ten or eleven years old.”

      "Marilla Cuthbert, you don't say so!” said Mrs. Spencer in distress. "Why, Robert sent his daughter Nancy and she said you wanted a girl – didn't she, Flora Jane?” asked she her daughter.

      "She certainly did, Miss Cuthbert,” Flora Jane nodded earnestly.

      "I'm dreadful sorry,” said Mrs. Spencer. "It's too bad; but it certainly wasn't my fault, you see, Miss Cuthbert. I thought I followed your instructions. Nancy is terrible.”

      "It was our own fault,” said Marilla resignedly. "Why didn't we come to you ourselves? Anyhow, can we send the child back to the asylum? I suppose they'll take her back, won't they?”

      "I suppose so,” said Mrs. Spencer thoughtfully, "but I don't think it will be necessary to send her back. Mrs. Blewett was here yesterday. She wants a little girl to help her. Mrs. Peter has a large family, you know.”

      Mrs. Blewett was a small, shrewish-faced woman without an ounce of superfluous flesh on her bones. She was terrible. Servant girls told fearsome tales of her temper and stinginess, and her family of pert, quarrelsome children.

      "And there is Mrs. Blewett this blessed minute!” exclaimed Mrs. Spencer. "That is real lucky! Take the armchair, Miss Cuthbert. Anne, you sit here on the ottoman and don't wiggle. Let me take your hats. Flora Jane, go out and put the kettle on. Good afternoon, Mrs. Blewett. Let me introduce you two ladies. Mrs. Blewett, Miss Cuthbert.”

      Anne sat mutely on the ottoman. She stared at Mrs. Blewett. Will she go with this sharp-faced, sharp-eyed woman? Anne was on the brink of tears[16].

      "There is a mistake about this little girl, Mrs. Blewett,” said Mrs. Spencer. "I was under the impression that Mr. and Miss Cuthbert wanted to adopt a little girl. But it seems it was a boy they wanted. So do you want to take the little girl, as you told me yesterday?”

      Mrs. Blewett looked at Anne.

      "How old are you and what's your name?” she demanded.

      "Anne Shirley,” faltered the child, "and I'm eleven years old.”

      "Humph! You don't look eleven. But you're wiry. The wiry girls are the best workers after all. Well, if I take you, you must be a good girl, you know – good and smart and respectful. No mistake about that. Miss Cuthbert, if you like I can take her right now.”

      Marilla looked at Anne and softened at sight of the child's pale face with its look of mute misery – the misery of a helpless little creature who finds itself once more in the trap. Moreover, Marilla did not like Mrs. Blewett.

      "Well, I don't know,” Marilla said slowly. "I haven't yet talked to Matthew. I just came over to learn about the mistake. I think I'll take her home again and talk it over with him. If we decide not to keep her, we'll bring or send her over to you tomorrow night. If we don't, you may know that she will stay with us. Will that suit you, Mrs. Blewett?”

      "I suppose, yes,” said Mrs. Blewett ungraciously.

      During Marilla's speech a sunrise dawned on Anne's face. First the look of despair faded out; then came a faint flush of hope. A moment later, when Mrs. Spencer and Mrs. Blewett went out she sprang up and flew across the room to Marilla.

      "Oh, Miss Cuthbert, do you really say that perhaps you will let me stay at Green Gables?” she said, in a breathless whisper. "Did you really say it? Or did I only imagine that you did?”

      "I think you must control that imagination of yours, Anne,” said Marilla crossly. "Yes, I said that and no more. But perhaps we will conclude to let Mrs. Blewett take you after all. She certainly needs you much more than I do.”

      "I'll rather go back to the asylum than go to live with her,” said Anne passionately. "She looks exactly like a gimlet!”

      "Go back and sit down quietly and hold your tongue,” Marilla said severely.

      "I'll do that, if you only keep me!” said Anne.

      When they arrived back at Green Gables that evening Matthew met them in the lane. Anne went upstairs. Marilla told Matthew everything.

      "I won't give a dog to that Blewett,” said Matthew with unusual energy.

      "I don't like her myself,” admitted Marilla, "but what about this girl? I never brought up a child, especially a girl but I'll do my best. So, Matthew, she may stay.”

      Matthew's shy face smiled.

      "Marilla,” he said, "she's such an interesting person.”

      "Is she a useful person though?” asked Marilla. "Matthew, perhaps an old maid doesn't know much about children, but I guess she knows more than an old bachelor. So you just leave me to manage her.”

      Chapter VII

      Anne Learns a Prayer

      "Well,” said Marilla to Anne, "Matthew and I will keep you – that is, if you try to be a good little girl and show yourself grateful. Why do you cry, child?”

      "I don't know why,” said Anne in a tone of bewilderment. "I'm glad! Oh, it's something more than glad. I'm so happy! I'll try to be very good!”

      "Sit down on that chair and try to calm yourself,” said Marilla disapprovingly. "Yes, you can stay here. You must go to school, when it opens again in September.”

      "What will I call you?” asked Anne. "Shall I always say Miss Cuthbert? Can I call you Aunt Marilla?”

      "No; you'll call me just plain Marilla. Not Miss Cuthbert, it will make me nervous.”

      "It sounds awfully disrespectful to just say Marilla,” protested Anne. "Can't I call you Aunt Marilla?”

      "No. I'm not your aunt,” said Marilla grimly. "Now go into the sitting room, Anne and bring me the illustrated card that's on the mantelpiece. The Lord's Prayer[17] is on it and you'll learn it by heart.”

      Anne promptly departed for the sitting-room across the hall. When she returned, she set the card up against the jug.

      "I like this,” she announced. "It's beautiful. I heard it before. The superintendent of the asylum Sunday school said it. But I didn't like it then. He had such a cracked voice and he prayed it so mournfully. 'Hallowed be Thy name[18].' That is just like music. Oh, I'm so glad, Miss Marilla.”

      "Well, learn it and hold your tongue,” said Marilla shortly.

      Anne studied diligently for some moments.

      "Marilla,” she demanded presently, "do you think that I shall ever have a friend in Avonlea?”

      "Diana Barry lives over at Orchard Slope and she's about your age. She's a very nice little girl, and perhaps she will be a playmate for you when she comes home. But Mrs.

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