right River there was no sign of any train; he thought
he was too early, so he tied his horse in the yard of the small Bright
River hotel and went over to the station house. The long platform was
almost deserted; the only living creature in sight being a girl who was
sitting on a pile of shingles at the extreme end. Matthew, barely noting
that it WAS a girl, sidled past her as quickly as possible without
looking at her. Had he looked he could hardly have failed to notice the
tense rigidity and expectation of her attitude and expression. She was
sitting there waiting for something or somebody and, since sitting and
waiting was the only thing to do just then, she sat and waited with all
her might and main.

Matthew encountered the stationmaster locking up the ticket office
preparatory to going home for supper, and asked him if the five-thirty
train would soon be along.

"The five-thirty train has been in and gone half an hour ago," answered
that brisk official. "But there was a passenger dropped off for you--a
little girl. She's sitting out there on the shingles. I asked her to
go into the ladies' waiting room, but she informed me gravely that she
preferred to stay outside. 'There was more scope for imagination,' she
said. She's a case, I should say."

"I'm not expecting a girl," said Matthew blankly. "It's a boy I've come
for. He should be here. Mrs. Alexander Spencer was to bring him over
from Nova Scotia for me."

The stationmaster whistled.

"Guess there's some mistake," he said. "Mrs. Spencer came off the train
with that girl and gave her into my charge. Said you and your sister
were adopting her from an orphan asylum and that you would be along for
her presently. That's all I know about it--and I haven't got any more
orphans concealed hereabouts."

"I don't understand," said Matthew helplessly, wishing that Marilla was
at hand to cope with the situation.

"Well, you'd better question the girl," said the station-master
carelessly. "I dare say she'll be able to explain--she's got a tongue
of her own, that's certain. Maybe they were out of boys of the brand you
wanted."

He walked jauntily away, being hungry, and the unfortunate Matthew was
left to do that which was harder for him than bearding a lion in its
den--walk up to a girl--a strange girl--an orphan girl--and demand of
her why she wasn't a boy. Matthew groaned in spirit as he turned about
and shuffled gently down the platform towards her.

She had b