“Janet told me I could have the use of the parlor
when any young men called! I don’t think
there are many to call. I haven’t seen a
young man in Valley Road yet, except the next-door
hired boy—Sam Toliver, a very tall, lank,
tow-haired youth. He came over one evening recently
and sat for an hour on the garden fence, near the
front porch where Janet and I were doing fancy-work.
The only remarks he volunteered in all that time were,
’Hev a peppermint, miss! Dew now-fine thing
for carARRH, peppermints,’ and, ‘Powerful
lot o’ jump-grasses round here ternight.
Yep.’
“But there is a love affair going on here.
It seems to be my fortune to be mixed up, more or
less actively, with elderly love affairs. Mr.
and Mrs. Irving always say that I brought about their
marriage. Mrs. Stephen Clark of Carmody persists
in being most grateful to me for a suggestion which
somebody else would probably have made if I hadn’t.
I do really think, though, that Ludovic Speed would
never have got any further along than placid courtship
if I had not helped him and Theodora Dix out.
“In the present affair I am only a passive spectator.
I’ve tried once to help things along and made
an awful mess of it. So I shall not meddle again.
I’ll tell you all about it when we meet.”
Chapter XXXII
Tea with Mrs. Douglas
On the first Thursday night of Anne’s sojourn
in Valley Road Janet asked her to go to prayer-meeting.
Janet blossomed out like a rose to attend that prayer-meeting.
She wore a pale-blue, pansy-sprinkled muslin dress
with more ruffles than one would ever have supposed
economical Janet could be guilty of, and a white leghorn
hat with pink roses and three ostrich feathers on
it. Anne felt quite amazed. Later on, she
found out Janet’s motive in so arraying herself—a
motive as old as Eden.
Valley Road prayer-meetings seemed to be essentially
feminine. There were thirty-two women present,
two half-grown boys, and one solitary man, beside
the minister. Anne found herself studying this
man. He was not handsome or young or graceful;
he had remarkably long legs—so long that
he had to keep them coiled up under his chair to dispose
of them—and he was stoop-shouldered.
His hands were big, his hair wanted barbering, and
his moustache was unkempt. But Anne thought she
liked his face; it was kind and honest and tender;
there was something else in it, too—just
what, Anne found it hard to define. She finally
concluded that this man had suffered and been strong,
and it had been made manifest in his face. There
was a sort of patient, humorous endurance in his expression
which indicated that he would go to the stake if need
be, but would keep on looking pleasant until he really
had to begin squirming.
When prayer-meeting was over this man came up to Janet
and said,
“May I see you home, Janet?”
Janet took his arm—“as primly and
shyly as if she were no more than sixteen, having
her first escort home,” Anne told the girls at
Patty’s Place later on.
Copyrights
Anne of the Island from Project Gutenberg. Public domain.