“
It
’
s
just
staying
,
that
’
s
what
,
”
she
said
as
she
stepped
along
the
deep
-
rutted
,
grassy
lane
bordered
with
wild
rose
bushes
.
“
It
’
s
no
wonder
Matthew
and
Marilla
are
both
a
little
odd
,
living
away
back
here
by
themselves
.
Trees
aren
’
t
much
company
,
though
dear
knows
if
they
were
there
’
d
be
enough
of
them
.
I
’
d
ruther
look
at
people
.
To
be
sure
,
they
seem
contented
enough
;
but
then
,
I
suppose
,
they
’
re
used
to
it
.
A
body
can
get
used
to
anything
,
even
to
being
hanged
,
as
the
Irishman
said
.
”
With
this
Mrs
.
Rachel
stepped
out
of
the
lane
into
the
backyard
of
Green
Gables
.
Very
green
and
neat
and
precise
was
that
yard
,
set
about
on
one
side
with
great
patriarchal
willows
and
the
other
with
prim
Lombardies
.
Not
a
stray
stick
nor
stone
was
to
be
seen
,
for
Mrs
.
Rachel
would
have
seen
it
if
there
had
been
.
Privately
she
was
of
the
opinion
that
Marilla
Cuthbert
swept
that
yard
over
as
often
as
she
swept
her
house
.
One
could
have
eaten
a
meal
off
the
ground
without
over
-
brimming
the
proverbial
peck
of
dirt
.
Mrs
.
Rachel
rapped
smartly
at
the
kitchen
door
and
stepped
in
when
bidden
to
do
so
.
The
kitchen
at
Green
Gables
was
a
cheerful
apartment
—
or
would
have
been
cheerful
if
it
had
not
been
so
painfully
clean
as
to
give
it
something
of
the
appearance
of
an
unused
parlor
.
Its
windows
looked
east
and
west
;
through
the
west
one
,
looking
out
on
the
back
yard
,
came
a
flood
of
mellow
June
sunlight
;
but
the
east
one
,
whence
you
got
a
glimpse
of
the
bloom
white
cherry
-
trees
in
the
left
orchard
and
nodding
,
slender
birches
down
in
the
hollow
by
the
brook
,
was
greened
over
by
a
tangle
of
vines
.
Here
sat
Marilla
Cuthbert
,
when
she
sat
at
all
,
always
slightly
distrustful
of
sunshine
,
which
seemed
to
her
too
dancing
and
irresponsible
a
thing
for
a
world
which
was
meant
to
be
taken
seriously
;
and
here
she
sat
now
,
knitting
,
and
the
table
behind
her
was
laid
for
supper
.
Mrs
.
Rachel
,
before
she
had
fairly
closed
the
door
,
had
taken
a
mental
note
of
everything
that
was
on
that
table
.
There
were
three
plates
laid
,
so
that
Marilla
must
be
expecting
some
one
home
with
Matthew
to
tea
;
but
the
dishes
were
everyday
dishes
and
there
was
only
crab
-
apple
preserves
and
one
kind
of
cake
,
so
that
the
expected
company
could
not
be
any
particular
company
.
Yet
what
of
Matthew
’
s
white
collar
and
the
sorrel
mare
?
Mrs
.
Rachel
was
getting
fairly
dizzy
with
this
unusual
mystery
about
quiet
,
unmysterious
Green
Gables
.
“
Good
evening
,
Rachel
,
”
Marilla
said
briskly
.
“
This
is
a
real
fine
evening
,
isn
’
t
it
?
Won
’
t
you
sit
down
?
How
are
all
your
folks
?
”
Something
that
for
lack
of
any
other
name
might
be
called
friendship
existed
and
always
had
existed
between
Marilla
Cuthbert
and
Mrs
.
Rachel
,
in
spite
of
—
or
perhaps
because
of
—
their
dissimilarity
.
Marilla
was
a
tall
,
thin
woman
,
with
angles
and
without
curves
;
her
dark
hair
showed
some
gray
streaks
and
was
always
twisted
up
in
a
hard
little
knot
behind
with
two
wire
hairpins
stuck
aggressively
through
it
.
She
looked
like
a
woman
of
narrow
experience
and
rigid
conscience
,
which
she
was
;
but
there
was
a
saving
something
about
her
mouth
which
,
if
it
had
been
ever
so
slightly
developed
,
might
have
been
considered
indicative
of
a
sense
of
humor
.
“
We
’
re
all
pretty
well
,
”
said
Mrs
.
Rachel
.
“
I
was
kind
of
afraid
you
weren
’
t
,
though
,
when
I
saw
Matthew
starting
off
today
.
I
thought
maybe
he
was
going
to
the
doctor
’
s
.
”
