Аня з Авонлеї
XXX. A Wedding at the Stone House
“ButI’msureIshan’tsleepablessedwink,MissShirley,ma’am,forfearthatsomething’llgowrongatthelastminute...thecreamwon’twhip...orMr.Irving’llhaveastrokeandnotbeabletocome.”
“Heisn’tinthehabitofhavingstrokes,ishe?”askedDiana,thedimpledcornersofhermouthtwitching.ToDiana,CharlottatheFourthwas,ifnotexactlyathingofbeauty,certainlyajoyforever.
“They’renotthingsthatgobyhabit,”saidCharlottatheFourthwithdignity.“TheyjustHAPPEN...andthereyouare.ANYBODYcanhaveastroke.Youdon’thavetolearnhow.Mr.Irvinglooksalotlikeanuncleofminethathadoneoncejustashewassittingdowntodinneroneday.Butmaybeeverything’llgoallright.Inthisworldyou’vejustgottohopeforthebestandpreparefortheworstandtakewhateverGodsends.”
“TheonlythingI’mworriedaboutisthatitwon’tbefinetomorrow,”saidDiana.“UncleAbepredictedrainforthemiddleoftheweek,andeversincethebigstormIcan’thelpbelievingthere’sagooddealinwhatUncleAbesays.”
Anne,whoknewbetterthanDianajusthowmuchUncleAbehadtodowiththestorm,wasnotmuchdisturbedbythis.Shesleptthesleepofthejustandweary,andwasrousedatanunearthlyhourbyCharlottatheFourth.
“Oh,MissShirley,ma’am,it’sawfultocallyousoearly,”camewailingthroughthekeyhole,“butthere’ssomuchtodoyet...andoh,MissShirley,ma’am,I’mskeeredit’sgoingtorainandIwishyou’dgetupandtellmeyouthinkitain’t.
