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like Mr. Superintendent Bell."

"It's very naughty of you to speak so about Mr. Bell," said



Marilla severely" target="_blank" title="ad.剧烈地;严格地">severely. "Mr. Bell is a real good man."

"Oh, of course he's good," agreed Anne, "but he doesn't seem to



get any comfort out of it. If I could be good I'd dance and sing

all day because I was glad of it. I suppose Mrs. Allan is too



old to dance and sing and of course it wouldn't be dignified in a

minister's wife. But I can just feel she's glad she's a Christian



and that she'd be one even if she could get to heaven without it."

"I suppose we must have Mr. and Mrs. Allan up to tea someday



soon," said Marilla reflectively. "They've been most everywhere

but here. Let me see. Next Wednesday would be a good time to



have them. But don't say a word to Matthew about it, for if he

knew they were coming he'd find some excuse to be away that day.



He'd got so used to Mr. Bentley he didn't mind him, but he's

going to find it hard to get acquainted with a new minister, and



a new minister's wife will frighten him to death."

"I'll be as secret as the dead," assured Anne. "But oh, Marilla,



will you let me make a cake for the occasion? I'd love to do

something for Mrs. Allan, and you know I can make a pretty good



cake by this time."

"You can make a layer cake," promised Marilla.



Monday and Tuesday great preparations went on at Green Gables.

Having the minister and his wife to tea was a serious and



important undertaking, and Marilla was determined not to be

eclipsed by any of the Avonlea housekeepers. Anne was wild with



excitement and delight. She talked it all over with Diana

Tuesday night in the twilight, as they sat on the big red stones



by the Dryad's Bubble and made rainbows in the water with little

twigs dipped in fir balsam.



"Everything is ready, Diana, except my cake which I'm to make in

the morning, and the baking-powder biscuits which Marilla will



make just before teatime. I assure you, Diana, that Marilla and

I have had a busy two days of it. It's such a responsibility



having a minister's family to tea. I never went through such an

experience before. You should just see our pantry. It's a sight



to behold. We're going to have jellied chicken and cold tongue.

We're to have two kinds of jelly, red and yellow, and whipped



cream and lemon pie, and cherry pie, and three kinds of cookies,

and fruit cake, and Marilla's famous yellow plum preserves that



she keeps especially for ministers, and pound cake and layer

cake, and biscuits as aforesaid; and new bread and old both, in



case the minister is dyspeptic and can't eat new. Mrs. Lynde

says ministers are dyspeptic, but I don't think Mr. Allan has been



a minister long enough for it to have had a bad effect on him.

I just grow cold when I think of my layer cake. Oh, Diana, what



if it shouldn't be good! I dreamed last night that I was chased

all around by a fearfulgoblin with a big layer cake for a head."



"It'll be good, all right," assured Diana, who was a very comfortable

sort of friend. "I'm sure that piece of the one you made that we had



for lunch in Idlewild two weeks ago was perfectly elegant."

"Yes; but cakes have such a terrible habit of turning out bad just when



you especially want them to be good," sighed Anne, setting a particularly

well-balsamed twig afloat. "However, I suppose I shall just have to



trust to Providence and be careful to put in the flour. Oh, look, Diana,

what a lovely rainbow! Do you suppose the dryad will come out after we



go away and take it for a scarf?"

"You know there is no such thing as a dryad," said Diana.



Diana's mother had found out about the Haunted Wood and had been

decidedly angry over it. As a result Diana had abstained from



any further imitative flights of imagination and did not think it

prudent to cultivate a spirit of belief even in harmless dryads.



"But it's so easy to imagine there is," said Anne. "Every night

before I go to bed, I look out of my window and wonder if the



dryad is really sitting here, combing her locks with the spring

for a mirror. Sometimes I look for her footprints in the dew in



the morning. Oh, Diana, don't give up your faith in the dryad!"

Wednesday morning came. Anne got up at sunrise because she was



too excited to sleep. She had caught a severe cold in the head

by reason of her dabbling in the spring on the preceding evening;



but nothing short of absolutepneumonia could have quenched her

interest in culinary matters that morning. After breakfast she



proceeded to make her cake. When she finally shut the oven door

upon it she drew a long breath.



"I'm sure I haven't forgotten anything this time, Marilla. But




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