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Mrs.RachelLyndelivedjustwheretheAvonleamainroaddippeddownintoalittlehollow,fringedwithaldersandladies’eardropsandtraversedbyabrookthathaditssourceawaybackinthewoodsoftheoldCuthbertplace;itwasreputedtobeanintricate,headlongbrookinitsearliercoursethroughthosewoods,withdarksecretsofpoolandcascade;butbythetimeitreachedLynde’sHollowitwasaquiet,well-conductedlittlestream,fornotevenabrookcouldrunpastMrs.RachelLynde’sdoorwithoutdueregardfordecencyanddecorum;itprobablywasconsciousthatMrs.Rachelwassittingatherwindow,keepingasharpeyeoneverythingthatpassed,frombrooksandchildrenup,andthatifshenoticedanythingoddoroutofplaceshewouldneverrestuntilshehadferretedoutthewhysandwhereforesthereof.
ThereareplentyofpeopleinAvonleaandoutofit,whocanattendcloselytotheirneighbor’sbusinessbydintofneglectingtheirown;butMrs.RachelLyndewasoneofthosecapablecreatureswhocanmanagetheirownconcernsandthoseofotherfolksintothebargain.
Shewasanotablehousewife;herworkwasalwaysdoneandwelldone;she“ran”theSewingCircle,helpedruntheSunday-school,andwasthestrongestpropoftheChurchAidSocietyandForeignMissionsAuxiliary.
YetwithallthisMrs.Rachelfoundabundanttimetositforhoursatherkitchenwindow,knitting“cottonwarp”quilts—shehadknittedsixteenofthem,asAvonleahousekeeperswerewonttotellinawedvoices—andkeepingasharpeyeonthemainroadthatcrossedthehollowandwoundupthesteepredhillbeyond.
SinceAvonleaoccupiedalittletriangularpeninsulajuttingoutintotheGulfofSt.Lawrencewithwaterontwosidesofit,anybodywhowentoutofitorintoithadtopassoverthathillroadandsoruntheunseengauntletofMrs.Rachel’sall-seeingeye.
ShewassittingthereoneafternooninearlyJune.
Thesunwascominginatthewindowwarmandbright;theorchardontheslopebelowthehousewasinabridalflushofpinky-whitebloom,hummedoverbyamyriadofbees.
ThomasLynde—ameeklittlemanwhomAvonleapeoplecalled“RachelLynde’shusband”—wassowinghislateturnipseedonthehillfieldbeyondthebarn;andMatthewCuthbertoughttohavebeensowinghisonthebigredbrookfieldawayoverbyGreenGables.
Mrs.RachelknewthatheoughtbecauseshehadheardhimtellPeterMorrisontheeveningbeforeinWilliamJ.Blair’sstoreoveratCarmodythathemeanttosowhisturnipseedthenextafternoon.
Peterhadaskedhim,ofcourse,forMatthewCuthberthadneverbeenknowntovolunteerinformationaboutanythinginhiswholelife.
AndyetherewasMatthewCuthbert,athalf-pastthreeontheafternoonofabusyday,placidlydrivingoverthehollowandupthehill;moreover,heworeawhitecollarandhisbestsuitofclothes,whichwasplainproofthathewasgoingoutofAvonlea;andhehadthebuggyandthesorrelmare,whichbetokenedthathewasgoingaconsiderabledistance.
Now,wherewasMatthewCuthbertgoingandwhywashegoingthere?
HaditbeenanyothermaninAvonlea,Mrs.Rachel,deftlyputtingthisandthattogether,mighthavegivenaprettygoodguessastobothquestions.
ButMatthewsorarelywentfromhomethatitmustbesomethingpressingandunusualwhichwastakinghim;hewastheshyestmanaliveandhatedtohavetogoamongstrangersortoanyplacewherehemighthavetotalk.
Matthew,dressedupwithawhitecollaranddrivinginabuggy,wassomethingthatdidn’thappenoften.
Mrs.Rachel,ponderasshemight,couldmakenothingofitandherafternoon’senjoymentwasspoiled.
“I’lljuststepovertoGreenGablesafterteaandfindoutfromMarillawherehe’sgoneandwhy,”theworthywomanfinallyconcluded.
“Hedoesn’tgenerallygototownthistimeofyearandheNEVERvisits;ifhe’drunoutofturnipseedhewouldn’tdressupandtakethebuggytogoformore;hewasn’tdrivingfastenoughtobegoingforadoctor.
Yetsomethingmusthavehappenedsincelastnighttostarthimoff.
I’mcleanpuzzled,that’swhat,andIwon’tknowaminute’speaceofmindorconscienceuntilIknowwhathastakenMatthewCuthbertoutofAvonleatoday.”
AccordinglyafterteaMrs.Rachelsetout;shehadnotfartogo;thebig,rambling,orchard-emboweredhousewheretheCuthbertslivedwasascantquarterofamileuptheroadfromLynde’sHollow.
Tobesure,thelonglanemadeitagooddealfurther.
MatthewCuthbert’sfather,asshyandsilentashissonafterhim,hadgotasfarawayashepossiblycouldfromhisfellowmenwithoutactuallyretreatingintothewoodswhenhefoundedhishomestead.
GreenGableswasbuiltatthefurthestedgeofhisclearedlandandthereitwastothisday,barelyvisiblefromthemainroadalongwhichalltheotherAvonleahousesweresosociablysituated.
Mrs.RachelLyndedidnotcalllivinginsuchaplaceLIVINGatall.
“It’sjustSTAYING,that’swhat,”shesaidasshesteppedalongthedeep-rutted,grassylaneborderedwithwildrosebushes.
“It’snowonderMatthewandMarillaarebothalittleodd,livingawaybackherebythemselves.
Treesaren’tmuchcompany,thoughdearknowsiftheywerethere’dbeenoughofthem.I’drutherlookatpeople.
Tobesure,theyseemcontentedenough;butthen,Isuppose,they’reusedtoit.
Abodycangetusedtoanything,eventobeinghanged,astheIrishmansaid.”
WiththisMrs.RachelsteppedoutofthelaneintothebackyardofGreenGables.
Verygreenandneatandprecisewasthatyard,setaboutononesidewithgreatpatriarchalwillowsandtheotherwithprimLombardies.
Notastraysticknorstonewastobeseen,forMrs.Rachelwouldhaveseenitiftherehadbeen.
PrivatelyshewasoftheopinionthatMarillaCuthbertsweptthatyardoverasoftenasshesweptherhouse.
Onecouldhaveeatenamealoffthegroundwithoutoverbrimmingtheproverbialpeckofdirt.
Mrs.Rachelrappedsmartlyatthekitchendoorandsteppedinwhenbiddentodoso.
ThekitchenatGreenGableswasacheerfulapartment—orwouldhavebeencheerfulifithadnotbeensopainfullycleanastogiveitsomethingoftheappearanceofanunusedparlor.
Itswindowslookedeastandwest;throughthewestone,lookingoutonthebackyard,cameafloodofmellowJunesunlight;buttheeastone,whenceyougotaglimpseofthebloomwhitecherry-treesintheleftorchardandnodding,slenderbirchesdowninthehollowbythebrook,wasgreenedoverbyatangleofvines.
HeresatMarillaCuthbert,whenshesatatall,alwaysslightlydistrustfulofsunshine,whichseemedtohertoodancingandirresponsibleathingforaworldwhichwasmeanttobetakenseriously;andhereshesatnow,knitting,andthetablebehindherwaslaidforsupper.
Mrs.Rachel,beforeshehadfairlyclosedthedoor,hadtakenamentalnoteofeverythingthatwasonthattable.
Therewerethreeplateslaid,sothatMarillamustbeexpectingsomeonehomewithMatthewtotea;butthedisheswereeverydaydishesandtherewasonlycrab-applepreservesandonekindofcake,sothattheexpectedcompanycouldnotbeanyparticularcompany.
YetwhatofMatthew’swhitecollarandthesorrelmare?
Mrs.Rachelwasgettingfairlydizzywiththisunusualmysteryaboutquiet,unmysteriousGreenGables.
“Goodevening,Rachel,”Marillasaidbriskly.“Thisisarealfineevening,isn’tit?Won’tyousitdown?Howareallyourfolks?”
SomethingthatforlackofanyothernamemightbecalledfriendshipexistedandalwayshadexistedbetweenMarillaCuthbertandMrs.Rachel,inspiteof—orperhapsbecauseof—theirdissimilarity.
Marillawasatall,thinwoman,withanglesandwithoutcurves;herdarkhairshowedsomegraystreaksandwasalwaystwistedupinahardlittleknotbehindwithtwowirehairpinsstuckaggressivelythroughit.
Shelookedlikeawomanofnarrowexperienceandrigidconscience,whichshewas;buttherewasasavingsomethingabouthermouthwhich,ifithadbeeneversoslightlydeveloped,mighthavebeenconsideredindicativeofasenseofhumor.
“We’reallprettywell,”saidMrs.Rachel.“IwaskindofafraidYOUweren’t,though,whenIsawMatthewstartingofftoday.Ithoughtmaybehewasgoingtothedoctor’s.”
Marilla’slipstwitchedunderstandingly.ShehadexpectedMrs.Rachelup;shehadknownthatthesightofMatthewjauntingoffsounaccountablywouldbetoomuchforherneighbor’scuriosity.
“Oh,no,I’mquitewellalthoughIhadabadheadacheyesterday,”shesaid.“MatthewwenttoBrightRiver.
We’regettingalittleboyfromanorphanasyluminNovaScotiaandhe’scomingonthetraintonight.”
IfMarillahadsaidthatMatthewhadgonetoBrightRivertomeetakangaroofromAustraliaMrs.Rachelcouldnothavebeenmoreastonished.
Shewasactuallystrickendumbforfiveseconds.
ItwasunsupposablethatMarillawasmakingfunofher,butMrs.Rachelwasalmostforcedtosupposeit.
“Areyouinearnest,Marilla?”shedemandedwhenvoicereturnedtoher.
“Yes,ofcourse,”saidMarilla,asifgettingboysfromorphanasylumsinNovaScotiawerepartoftheusualspringworkonanywell-regulatedAvonleafarminsteadofbeinganunheardofinnovation.
Mrs.Rachelfeltthatshehadreceivedaseverementaljolt.Shethoughtinexclamationpoints.Aboy!
MarillaandMatthewCuthbertofallpeopleadoptingaboy!Fromanorphanasylum!
Well,theworldwascertainlyturningupsidedown!
Shewouldbesurprisedatnothingafterthis!Nothing!
“Whatonearthputsuchanotionintoyourhead?”shedemandeddisapprovingly.
Thishadbeendonewithoutheradvicebeingasked,andmustperforcebedisapproved.
“Well,we’vebeenthinkingaboutitforsometime—allwinterinfact,”returnedMarilla.
“Mrs.AlexanderSpencerwasuphereonedaybeforeChristmasandshesaidshewasgoingtogetalittlegirlfromtheasylumoverinHopetoninthespring.
HercousinlivesthereandMrs.Spencerhasvisitedhereandknowsallaboutit.
SoMatthewandIhavetalkeditoveroffandoneversince.Wethoughtwe’dgetaboy.
Matthewisgettingupinyears,youknow—he’ssixty—andheisn’tsospryasheoncewas.Hishearttroubleshimagooddeal.
Andyouknowhowdesperatehardit’sgottobetogethiredhelp.
There’sneveranybodytobehadbutthosestupid,half-grownlittleFrenchboys;andassoonasyoudogetonebrokeintoyourwaysandtaughtsomethinghe’supandofftothelobstercanneriesortheStates.
AtfirstMatthewsuggestedgettingaHomeboy.ButIsaid‘no’flattothat.
‘Theymaybeallright—I’mnotsayingthey’renot—butnoLondonstreetArabsforme,’Isaid.‘Givemeanativebornatleast.
There’llbearisk,nomatterwhoweget.
ButI’llfeeleasierinmymindandsleepsounderatnightsifwegetabornCanadian.’
SointheendwedecidedtoaskMrs.Spencertopickusoutonewhenshewentovertogetherlittlegirl.
Weheardlastweekshewasgoing,sowesentherwordbyRichardSpencer’sfolksatCarmodytobringusasmart,likelyboyofabouttenoreleven.
Wedecidedthatwouldbethebestage—oldenoughtobeofsomeuseindoingchoresrightoffandyoungenoughtobetrainedupproper.
Wemeantogivehimagoodhomeandschooling.
WehadatelegramfromMrs.AlexanderSpencertoday—themail-manbroughtitfromthestation—sayingtheywerecomingonthefive-thirtytraintonight.
SoMatthewwenttoBrightRivertomeethim.Mrs.Spencerwilldrophimoffthere.
OfcourseshegoesontoWhiteSandsstationherself.”
Mrs.Rachelpridedherselfonalwaysspeakinghermind;sheproceededtospeakitnow,havingadjustedhermentalattitudetothisamazingpieceofnews.
“Well,Marilla,I’lljusttellyouplainthatIthinkyou’redoingamightyfoolishthing—ariskything,that’swhat.Youdon’tknowwhatyou’regetting.
You’rebringingastrangechildintoyourhouseandhomeandyoudon’tknowasinglethingabouthimnorwhathisdispositionislikenorwhatsortofparentshehadnorhowhe’slikelytoturnout.
Why,itwasonlylastweekIreadinthepaperhowamanandhiswifeupwestoftheIslandtookaboyoutofanorphanasylumandhesetfiretothehouseatnight—setitONPURPOSE,Marilla—andnearlyburntthemtoacrispintheirbeds.
AndIknowanothercasewhereanadoptedboyusedtosucktheeggs—theycouldn’tbreakhimofit.
Ifyouhadaskedmyadviceinthematter—whichyoudidn’tdo,Marilla—I’dhavesaidformercy’ssakenottothinkofsuchathing,that’swhat.”
ThisJob’scomfortingseemedneithertooffendnortoalarmMarilla.Sheknittedsteadilyon.
“Idon’tdenythere’ssomethinginwhatyousay,Rachel.I’vehadsomequalmsmyself.ButMatthewwasterriblesetonit.Icouldseethat,soIgavein.
It’ssoseldomMatthewsetshismindonanythingthatwhenhedoesIalwaysfeelit’smydutytogivein.
Andasfortherisk,there’srisksinprettyneareverythingabodydoesinthisworld.
There’srisksinpeople’shavingchildrenoftheirownifitcomestothat—theydon’talwaysturnoutwell.
AndthenNovaScotiaisrightclosetotheIsland.
Itisn’tasifweweregettinghimfromEnglandortheStates.
Hecan’tbemuchdifferentfromourselves.”
“Well,Ihopeitwillturnoutallright,”saidMrs.Rachelinatonethatplainlyindicatedherpainfuldoubts.
“Onlydon’tsayIdidn’twarnyouifheburnsGreenGablesdownorputsstrychnineinthewell—IheardofacaseoverinNewBrunswickwhereanorphanasylumchilddidthatandthewholefamilydiedinfearfulagonies.Only,itwasagirlinthatinstance.”
“Well,we’renotgettingagirl,”saidMarilla,asifpoisoningwellswereapurelyfeminineaccomplishmentandnottobedreadedinthecaseofaboy.
“I’dneverdreamoftakingagirltobringup.
IwonderatMrs.AlexanderSpencerfordoingit.
Butthere,SHEwouldn’tshrinkfromadoptingawholeorphanasylumifshetookitintoherhead.”
Mrs.RachelwouldhavelikedtostayuntilMatthewcamehomewithhisimportedorphan.
ButreflectingthatitwouldbeagoodtwohoursatleastbeforehisarrivalsheconcludedtogouptheroadtoRobertBell’sandtellthenews.
Itwouldcertainlymakeasensationsecondtonone,andMrs.Racheldearlylovedtomakeasensation.
Soshetookherselfaway,somewhattoMarilla’srelief,forthelatterfeltherdoubtsandfearsrevivingundertheinfluenceofMrs.Rachel’spessimism.
“Well,ofallthingsthateverwereorwillbe!”
ejaculatedMrs.Rachelwhenshewassafelyoutinthelane.
“ItdoesreallyseemasifImustbedreaming.
Well,I’msorryforthatpooryoungoneandnomistake.
MatthewandMarilladon’tknowanythingaboutchildrenandthey’llexpecthimtobewiserandsteadierthathisowngrandfather,ifsobe’sheeverhadagrandfather,whichisdoubtful.
ItseemsuncannytothinkofachildatGreenGablessomehow;there’sneverbeenonethere,forMatthewandMarillaweregrownupwhenthenewhousewasbuilt—iftheyeverWEREchildren,whichishardtobelievewhenonelooksatthem.
Iwouldn’tbeinthatorphan’sshoesforanything.My,butIpityhim,that’swhat.”
SosaidMrs.Racheltothewildrosebushesoutofthefulnessofherheart;butifshecouldhaveseenthechildwhowaswaitingpatientlyattheBrightRiverstationatthatverymomentherpitywouldhavebeenstilldeeperandmoreprofound.
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