Аня із Зелених Мезонінів

Chapter I. Mrs. Rachel Lynde is Surprised

           Onecouldhaveeatenamealoffthegroundwithoutover-brimmingtheproverbialpeckofdirt.

           Mrs.Rachelrappedsmartlyatthekitchendoorandsteppedinwhenbiddentodoso.ThekitchenatGreenGableswasacheerfulapartment—orwouldhavebeencheerfulifithadnotbeensopainfullycleanastogiveitsomethingoftheappearanceofanunusedparlor.Itswindowslookedeastandwest;throughthewestone,lookingoutonthebackyard,cameafloodofmellowJunesunlight;buttheeastone,whenceyougotaglimpseofthebloomwhitecherry-treesintheleftorchardandnodding,slenderbirchesdowninthehollowbythebrook,wasgreenedoverbyatangleofvines.HeresatMarillaCuthbert,whenshesatatall,alwaysslightlydistrustfulofsunshine,whichseemedtohertoodancingandirresponsibleathingforaworldwhichwasmeanttobetakenseriously;andhereshesatnow,knitting,andthetablebehindherwaslaidforsupper.

           Mrs.Rachel,beforeshehadfairlyclosedthedoor,hadtakenamentalnoteofeverythingthatwasonthattable.Therewerethreeplateslaid,sothatMarillamustbeexpectingsomeonehomewithMatthewtotea;butthedisheswereeverydaydishesandtherewasonlycrab-applepreservesandonekindofcake,sothattheexpectedcompanycouldnotbeanyparticularcompany.YetwhatofMatthew’swhitecollarandthesorrelmare?Mrs.Rachelwasgettingfairlydizzywiththisunusualmysteryaboutquiet,unmysteriousGreenGables.

           “Goodevening,Rachel,”Marillasaidbriskly.

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