Аня из Авонлеи

XXIV. A Prophet in His Own Country

           Thehailstopped,thethunderrolledandmutteredawaytotheeastward,andthesunburstoutmerryandradiantoveraworldsochangedthatitseemedanabsurdthingtothinkthatascantthreequartersofanhourcouldhaveeffectedsuchatransformation.

           Marillarosefromherknees,weakandtrembling,anddroppedonherrocker.Herfacewashaggardandshelookedtenyearsolder.

           “Haveweallcomeoutofthatalive?”sheaskedsolemnly.

           “Youbetwehave,”pipedDavycheerfully,quitehisownmanagain.“Iwasn’tabitscaredeither...onlyjustatthefirst.Itcomeonafellowsosudden.ImadeupmymindquickasawinkthatIwouldn’tfightTeddySloaneMondayasI’dpromised;butnowmaybeIwill.Say,Dora,wasyouscared?”

           “Yes,Iwasalittlescared,”saidDoraprimly,“butIheldtighttoAnne’shandandsaidmyprayersoverandoveragain.”

           “Well,I’dhavesaidmyprayerstooifI’dhavethoughtofit,”saidDavy;“but,”headdedtriumphantly,“youseeIcamethroughjustassafeasyouforallIdidn’tsaythem.”

           AnnegotMarillaaglassfulofherpotentcurrantwine...HOWpotentitwasAnne,inherearlierdays,hadhadalltoogoodreasontoknow...andthentheywenttothedoortolookoutonthestrangescene.

           Farandwidewasawhitecarpet,kneedeep,ofhailstones;driftsofthemwereheapedupundertheeavesandonthesteps.When,threeorfourdayslater,thosehailstonesmelted,thehavoctheyhadwroughtwasplainlyseen,foreverygreengrowingthinginthefieldorgardenwascutoff.

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