And after
that I just worshipped him. Mother died before he was
three years old and I was sister and mother to him
both. Poor little lad, he was never strong, and he
died when he wasn't much over twenty. Seems to me I'd
have given anything on earth, Anne, dearie, if he'd
only lived."
Miss Cornelia sighed. Gilbert had gone down and
Leslie, who had been crooning over the small James
Matthew in the dormer window, laid him asleep in his
basket and went her way. As soon as she was safely out
of earshot, Miss Cornelia bent forward and said in a
conspirator's whisper:
"Anne, dearie, I'd a letter from Owen Ford yesterday.
He's in Vancouver just now, but he wants to know if I
can board him for a month later on. YOU know what that
means. Well, I hope we're doing right."
"We've nothing to do with it--we couldn't prevent him
from coming to Four Winds if he wanted to," said Anne
quickly. She did not like the feeling of match-making
Miss Cornelia's whispers gave her; and then she weakly
succumbed herself.
"Don't let Leslie know he is coming until he is here,"
she said.
Pages:
329
330
331
332
333
334
335
336
337
338
339
340
341
342
343
344
345
346
347
348
349
350
351
352
353