That s awfully nice raspberry cordial, Anne, she said. I didn t know
raspberry cordial was so nice.
I m real glad you like it. Take as much as you want. I m going to
run out and stir the fire up. There are so many responsibilities on a
person s mind when they re keeping house, isn t there?
When Anne came back from the kitchen Diana was drinking her second
glassful of cordial; and, being entreated thereto by Anne, she offered
no particular objection to the drinking of a third. The tumblerfuls were
generous ones and the raspberry cordial was certainly very nice.
The nicest I ever drank, said Diana. It s ever so much nicer than
Mrs. Lynde s, although she brags of hers so much. It doesn t taste a bit
like hers.
I should think Marilla s raspberry cordial would prob ly be much nicer
than Mrs. Lynde s, said Anne loyally. Marilla is a famous cook. She is
trying to teach me to cook but I assure you, Diana, it is uphill work.
There s so little scope for imagination in cookery. You just have to go
by rules. The last time I made a cake I forgot to put the flour in. I
was thinking the loveliest story about you and me, Diana. I thought you
were desperately ill with smallpox and everybody deserted you, but I
went boldly to your bedside and nursed you back to life; and then I took
the smallpox and died and I was buried under those poplar trees in the
graveyard and you planted a rosebush by my grave and watered it with
your tears; and you never, never forgot the friend of your youth who
sacrificed her life for you. Oh, it was such a pathetic tale, Diana.
The tears just rained down over my cheeks while I mixed the cake. But
I forgot the flour and the cake was a dismal failure. Flour is so
essential to cakes, you know. Marilla was very cross and I don t wonder.
I m a great trial to her. She was terribly mortified about the pudding
sauce last week. We had a plum pudding for dinner on Tuesday and there
was half the pudding and a pitcherful of sauce left over. Marilla said
there was enough for another dinner and told me to set it on the pantry
shelf and cover it. I meant to cover it just as much as could be, Diana,
but when I carried it in I was imagining I was a nun--of course I m a
Protestant but I imagined I was a Catholic--taking the veil to bury a
broken heart in cloistered seclusion; and I forgot all about covering
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