in the orchard; she went to the Dryad s Bubble and Willowmere and Violet
Vale; she called at the manse and had a satisfying talk with Mrs. Allan;
and finally in the evening she went with Matthew for the cows, through
Lovers Lane to the back pasture. The woods were all gloried through
with sunset and the warm splendor of it streamed down through the hill
gaps in the west. Matthew walked slowly with bent head; Anne, tall and
erect, suited her springing step to his.
You ve been working too hard today, Matthew, she said reproachfully.
Why won t you take things easier?
Well now, I can t seem to, said Matthew, as he opened the yard gate
to let the cows through. It s only that I m getting old, Anne, and keep
forgetting it. Well, well, I ve always worked pretty hard and I d rather
drop in harness.
If I had been the boy you sent for, said Anne wistfully, I d be able
to help you so much now and spare you in a hundred ways. I could find it
in my heart to wish I had been, just for that.
Well now, I d rather have you than a dozen boys, Anne, said Matthew
patting her hand. Just mind you that--rather than a dozen boys. Well
now, I guess it wasn t a boy that took the Avery scholarship, was it? It
was a girl--my girl--my girl that I m proud of.
He smiled his shy smile at her as he went into the yard. Anne took the
memory of it with her when she went to her room that night and sat for a
long while at her open window, thinking of the past and dreaming of the
future. Outside the Snow Queen was mistily white in the moonshine;
the frogs were singing in the marsh beyond Orchard Slope. Anne always
remembered the silvery, peaceful beauty and fragrant calm of that night.
It was the last night before sorrow touched her life; and no life is
ever quite the same again when once that cold, sanctifying touch has
been laid upon it.
CHAPTER XXXVII. The Reaper Whose Name Is Death
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