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XVI. The Substance of Things Hoped For
TheywillspendtheafternoonwithusandgotothehotelatWhiteSandsintheevening,becausesomeofMrs.Morgan’sAmericanfriendsarestayingthere.Oh,Marilla,isn’titwonderful?IcanhardlybelieveI’mnotdreaming.”
“IdaresayMrs.Morganisalotlikeotherpeople,”saidMarilladrily,althoughshedidfeelatrifleexcitedherself.Mrs.Morganwasafamouswomanandavisitfromherwasnocommonplaceoccurrence.“They’llbeheretodinner,then?”
“Yes;andoh,Marilla,mayIcookeverybitofthedinnermyself?IwanttofeelthatIcandosomethingfortheauthorof‘TheRosebudGarden,’ifitisonlytocookadinnerforher.Youwon’tmind,willyou?”
“Goodness,I’mnotsofondofstewingoverahotfireinJulythatitwouldvexmeverymuchtohavesomeoneelsedoit.You’requitewelcometothejob.”
“Oh,thankyou,”saidAnne,asifMarillahadjustconferredatremendousfavor,“I’llmakeoutthemenuthisverynight.”
“You’dbetternottrytoputontoomuchstyle,”warnedMarilla,alittlealarmedbythehigh-flownsoundof‘menu.’“You’lllikelycometogriefifyoudo.”
“Oh,I’mnotgoingtoputonany‘style,’ifyoumeantryingtodoorhavethingswedon’tusuallyhaveonfestaloccasions,”assuredAnne.“Thatwouldbeaffectation,and,althoughIknowIhaven’tasmuchsenseandsteadinessasagirlofseventeenandaschoolteacheroughttohave,I’mnotsosillyasTHAT.ButIwanttohaveeverythingasniceanddaintyaspossible.Davy-boy,don’tleavethosepeapodsonthebackstairs...
