"
They had come back to the kitchen, and she stood before the cupboard,
reaching high for two old gayly striped crockery mugs. There were some
doughnuts and cheese at hand; their early supper seemed quite
forgotten. The kitchen was warm, and they had talked themselves
thirsty and hungry; but with what an unexpected tang the cider
freshened their throats! Mrs. Hender had picked the apples herself
that went to the press; they were all chosen from the old russet tree
and the gnarly, red-cheeked, ungrafted fruit that grew along the lane.
The flavor made one think of frosty autumn mornings on high hillsides,
of north winds and sunny skies. "It 'livens one to the heart," as Mrs.
Hender remarked proudly, when the Senator tried to praise it as much
as it deserved, and finally gave a cheerful laugh, such as he had not
laughed for many a day.
"Why, it seems like drinking the month of October," he told her; and
at this the hostess reached over, protesting that the striped mug was
too narrow to hold what it ought, and filled it up again.
"Oh, Joe Laneway, to think that I see you at last, after all these
years!" she said. "How rich I shall feel with this evening to live
over! I've always wanted to see somebody that I'd read about, and now
I've got that to remember; but I've always known I should see you
again, and I believe 't was the Lord's will."
Early the next morning they said good-by. The early breakfast had to
be hurried, and Marilla was to drive Mr.
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