so much? You know I never use it except for the hired man's
porridge or black fruit cake. Jerry's gone and I've made my cake
long ago. It's not good sugar, either--it's
coarse and
dark--William Blair doesn't usually keep sugar like that."
"I--I thought it might come in handy sometime," said Matthew,
making good his escape.
When Matthew came to think the matter over he
decided that a
woman was required to cope with the situation. Marilla was out
of the question. Matthew felt sure she would throw cold water on
his
project at once. Remained only Mrs. Lynde; for of no other
woman in Avonlea would Matthew have dared to ask advice. To Mrs.
Lynde he went
accordingly, and that good lady
promptly took the
matter out of the harassed man's hands.
"Pick out a dress for you to give Anne? To be sure I will. I'm
going to Carmody tomorrow and I'll attend to it. Have you
something particular in mind? No? Well, I'll just go by my own
judgment then. I believe a nice rich brown would just suit Anne,
and William Blair has some new gloria in that's real pretty.
Perhaps you'd like me to make it up for her, too,
seeing that if
Marilla was to make it Anne would probably get wind of it before
the time and spoil the surprise? Well, I'll do it. No, it isn't
a mite of trouble. I like
sewing. I'll make it to fit my niece,
Jenny Gillis, for she and Anne are as like as two peas as far as
figure goes."
"Well now, I'm much obliged," said Matthew, "and--and--I
dunno--but I'd like--I think they make the sleeves different
nowadays to what they used to be. If it wouldn't be asking too
much I--I'd like them made in the new way."
"Puffs? Of course. You needn't worry a speck more about it,
Matthew. I'll make it up in the very latest fashion," said Mrs.
Lynde. To herself she added when Matthew had gone:
"It'll be a real
satisfaction to see that poor child wearing
something
decent for once. The way Marilla dresses her is
positively
ridiculous, that's what, and I've ached to tell her
so
plainly a dozen times. I've held my tongue though, for I can
see Marilla doesn't want advice and she thinks she knows more
about bringing children up than I do for all she's an old maid.
But that's always the way. Folks that has brought up children
know that there's no hard and fast method in the world that'll suit
every child. But them as never have think it's all as plain and
easy as Rule of Three--just set your three terms down so fashion,
and the sum'll work out correct. But flesh and blood don't come
under the head of
arithmetic and that's where Marilla Cuthbert
makes her mistake. I suppose she's
trying to
cultivate a spirit
of
humility in Anne by dressing her as she does; but it's more
likely to
cultivate envy and
discontent. I'm sure the child must
feel the difference between her clothes and the other girls'.
But to think of Matthew
taking notice of it! That man is waking
up after being asleep for over sixty years."
Marilla knew all the following
fortnight that Matthew had
something on his mind, but what it was she could not guess,
until Christmas Eve, when Mrs. Lynde brought up the new dress.
Marilla behaved pretty well on the whole, although it is very
likely she distrusted Mrs. Lynde's
diplomaticexplanation that
she had made the dress because Matthew was afraid Anne would find
out about it too soon if Marilla made it.
"So this is what Matthew has been looking so
mysterious over and
grinning about to himself for two weeks, is it?" she said a little
stiffly but tolerantly. "I knew he was up to some foolishness.
Well, I must say I don't think Anne needed any more dresses.
I made her three good, warm, serviceable ones this fall, and
anything more is sheer
extravagance. There's enough material
in those sleeves alone to make a waist, I declare there is.
You'll just pamper Anne's
vanity, Matthew, and she's as vain
as a
peacock now. Well, I hope she'll be satisfied at last, for
I know she's been hankering after those silly sleeves ever since
they came in, although she never said a word after the first.
The puffs have been getting bigger and more
ridiculous right
along; they're as big as balloons now. Next year anybody who
wears them will have to go through a door sideways."
Christmas morning broke on a beautiful white world. It had been
a very mild December and people had looked forward to a green
Christmas; but just enough snow fell
softly in the night to
transfigure Avonlea. Anne peeped out from her frosted gable
window with
delighted eyes. The firs in the Haunted Wood were
all feathery and wonderful; the birches and wild
cherry trees