There was the usual service at
Marilla's meeting-house, but she had not ventured out to attend it,
giving the weather and a grumbling toothache for her reasons, though
she concealed the fact that the faithless town milliner had
disappointed her about finishing her winter bonnet. Marilla had begun
life with certain opinions which she had never changed, though time
and occasion had lessened the value of some of them. She liked to
count herself among those who are persecuted for conscience's sake,
and was immensely fond of an argument and of having it known that she
was a dissenter from the First Parish Church.
Mrs. Graham looked up with surprise from her book to see the doctor
coming in from the street, and, being helplessly lame, sat still, and
put out her hand to greet him, with a very pleased look on her face.
"Is there anything the matter with me?" she asked. "I have begun to
think you don't care to associate with well people; you don't usually
go to church in the afternoon either, so you haven't taken refuge here
because Mr. Talcot is ill. I must say that I missed hearing the bell;
I shall lose myself altogether by the middle of the week. One must
have some landmarks."
"Marilla complained yesterday that she was all at sea because her
apple pies gave out a day too soon. She put the bread to rise the
wrong night, and everything went wrong about the sweeping. It has been
a week of great domestic calamity with us, but Nan confided to me
this morning that there was some trouble with our bonnet into the
bargain.
Pages:
100
101
102
103
104
105
106
107
108
109
110
111
112
113
114
115
116
117
118
119
120
121
122
123
124