"I've
looked into her bread box and her scrap pail. I always
judge a housekeeper by those, that's what. There's
nothing in the pail that shouldn't have been thrown
away, and no stale pieces in the bread box. Of course,
she was trained up with you--but, then, she went to
college afterwards. I notice she's got my tobacco
stripe quilt on the bed here, and that big round
braided mat of yours before her living-room fire. It
makes me feel right at home."
Anne's first Christmas in her own house was as
delightful as she could have wished. The day was fine
and bright; the first skim of snow had fallen on
Christmas Eve and made the world beautiful; the harbor
was still open and glittering.
Captain Jim and Miss Cornelia came to dinner. Leslie
and Dick had been invited, but Leslie made excuse; they
always went to her Uncle Isaac West's for Christmas,
she said.
"She'd rather have it so," Miss Cornelia told Anne.
"She can't bear taking Dick where there are strangers.
Christmas is always a hard time for Leslie. She and
her father used to make a lot of it.
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