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Anne of the Island-Part32_L.Maud Montgomery(1874-1942)_English Literature(文学名著)-第2页

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weighed in the balance. From the fact that they had consented to

call she understood that, willingly or unwillingly, they regarded



her as a possible member of their clan.

"I shall just be myself. I shall not TRY to make a good impression,"



thought Anne loftily. But she was wondering what dress she would

better wear Saturday afternoon, and if the new style of high



hair-dressing would suit her better than the old; and the walking

party was rather spoiled for her. By night she had decided that she



would wear her brown chiffon on Saturday, but would do her hair low.

Friday afternoon none of the girls had classes at Redmond.



Stella took the opportunity to write a paper for the Philomathic

Society, and was sitting at the table in the corner of the



living-room with an untidy litter of notes and manuscript on the

floor around her. Stella always vowed she never could write



anything unless she threw each sheet down as she completed it.

Anne, in her flannelblouse and serge skirt, with her hair rather



blown from her windy walk home, was sitting squarely in the

middle of the floor, teasing the Sarah-cat with a wishbone.



Joseph and Rusty were both curled up in her lap. A warm plummy

odor filled the whole house, for Priscilla was cooking in the



kitchen. Presently she came in, enshrouded in a huge work-apron,

with a smudge of flour on her nose, to show Aunt Jamesina the



chocolate cake she had just iced.

At this auspicious moment the knocker sounded. Nobody paid any



attention to it save Phil, who sprang up and opened it, expecting

a boy with the hat she had bought that morning. On the doorstep



stood Mrs. Gardner and her daughters.

Anne scrambled to her feet somehow, emptying two indignant cats



out of her lap as she did so, and mechanically shifting her

wishbone from her right hand to her left. Priscilla, who would



have had to cross the room to reach the kitchen door, lost her

head, wildly plunged the chocolate cake under a cushion on the



inglenook sofa, and dashed upstairs. Stella began feverishly

gathering up her manuscript. Only Aunt Jamesina and Phil



remained normal. Thanks to them, everybody was soon sitting at

ease, even Anne. Priscilla came down, apronless and smudgeless,



Stella reduced her corner to decency, and Phil saved the

situation by a stream of ready small talk.



Mrs. Gardner was tall and thin and handsome, exquisitely

gowned, cordial with a cordiality that seemed a trifle forced.



Aline Gardner was a younger edition of her mother, lacking the

cordiality. She endeavored to be nice, but succeeded only in



being haughty and patronizing. Dorothy Gardner was slim and

jolly and rather tomboyish. Anne knew she was Roy's favorite



sister and warmed to her. She would have looked very much like

Roy if she had had dreamy dark eyes instead of roguish hazel



ones. Thanks to her and Phil, the call really went off very

well, except for a slight sense of strain in the atmosphere



and two rather untoward incidents. Rusty and Joseph, left to

themselves, began a game of chase, and sprang madly into



Mrs. Gardner's silken lap and out of it in their wild career.

Mrs. Gardner lifted her lorgnette and gazed after their flying



forms as if she had never seen cats before, and Anne, choking

back slightlynervouslaughter, apologized as best she could.



"You are fond of cats?" said Mrs. Gardner, with a slight

intonation of tolerant wonder.



Anne, despite her affection for Rusty, was not especially fond of

cats, but Mrs. Gardner's tone annoyed her. Inconsequently she



remembered that Mrs. John Blythe was so fond of cats that she

kept as many as her husband would allow.



"They ARE adorable animals, aren't they?" she said wickedly.

"I have never liked cats," said Mrs. Gardner remotely.



"I love them," said Dorothy. "They are so nice and selfish.

Dogs are TOO good and unselfish. They make me feel uncomfortable.



But cats are gloriously human."

"You have two delightful old china dogs there. May I look at



them closely?" said Aline, crossing the room towards the fireplace

and thereby becoming the unconscious cause of the other accident.



Picking up Magog, she sat down on the cushion under which was

secreted Priscilla's chocolate cake. Priscilla and Anne exchanged



agonized glances but could do nothing. The stately Aline continued to




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