sick call, and had just
returned.
"How is poor old Aunt Mandy tonight?" asked Miss Cornelia.
Susan sighed.
"Very poorly--very poorly, Cornelia. I am afraid she will soon be in
heaven, poor thing!"
"Oh, surely, it's not so bad as that!" exclaimed Miss Cornelia,
sympathetically.
Captain Jim and Gilbert looked at each other. Then they suddenly rose
and went out.
"There are times," said Captain Jim, between spasms, "when it would be
a sin NOT to laugh. Them two excellent women!"
CHAPTER 19
DAWN AND DUSK
In early June, when the sand hills were a great glory of pink wild
roses, and the Glen was smothered in apple blossoms, Marilla arrived at
the little house, accompanied by a black horsehair trunk, patterned
with brass nails, which had reposed undisturbed in the Green Gables
garret for half a century. Susan Baker, who, during her few weeks'
sojourn in the little house, had come to worship "young Mrs. Doctor,"
as she called Anne, with blind fervor, looked rather jealously askance
at Marilla at first. But as Marilla did not try to interfere in
kitchen matters, and showed no desire to interrupt Susan's
ministrations to young Mrs. Doctor, the good handmaiden became
reconciled to her presence, and told her cronies at the Glen that Miss
Cuthbert was a fine old lady and knew her place.
One evening, when the sky's limpid bowl was filled with a red glory,
and the robins were thrilling the golden twilight with jubilant hymns
to the stars of evening, there was a sudden commotion in the little
house of dreams. Telephone messages were sent up to the Glen, Doctor
Dave and a white-capped nurse came hastily down, Marilla paced the
garden walks between the quahog shells, murmuring prayers between her
set lips, and Susan sat in the kitchen with cotton wool in her ears and
her apron over her head.
Leslie, looking out from the house up the brook, saw that every window
of the little house was alight, and did not sleep that night.
The June night was short; but it seemed an eternity to those who waited
and watched.
"Oh, will it NEVER end?" said Marilla; then she saw how grave the nurse
and Doctor Dave looked, and she dared ask no more questions. Suppose
Anne--but Marilla could not suppose it.
"Do not tell me," said Susan fiercely, answering the anguish in
Marilla's eyes, "that God could be so cruel as to take that darling
lamb from us when we all love her so much."
"He has taken others as well beloved
|