Anne of Windy Poplars - L. M. Montgomery [90]
Mrs Raymond’s large blue eyes looked as if they were going to overflow, but she gallantly blinked the tears away.
‘Don’t worry if they quarrel a little – children always do quarrel, don’t you think? But if any outsider attacks them… My dear! They really just worship each other, you know. I could have taken one of them to the funeral, but they simply wouldn’t hear of it. They’ve never been separated for a day in their lives. And I couldn’t look after twins at a funeral, could I, now?’
‘Don’t worry, Mrs Raymond,’ said Anne kindly. ‘I’m sure Gerald and Geraldine and I will have a beautiful day together. I love children.’
‘I know it. I felt sure the minute I saw you that you loved children. One can always tell, don’t you think? There’s something about a person who loves children. Poor old Miss Prouty detests them. She looks for the worst in children, and so, of course, she finds it. You can’t conceive what a comfort it is to me to reflect that my darlings are under the care of one who loves and understands children. I’m sure I’ll quite enjoy the day.’
‘You might take us to the funeral,’ shrieked Gerald, suddenly sticking his head out of an upstairs window. ‘We never have any fun like that.’
‘Oh, they’re in the bathroom!’ exclaimed Mrs Raymond tragically. ‘Dear Miss Shirley, please go and take them out. Gerald darling, you know Mother couldn’t take you both to the funeral. Oh, Miss Shirley, he’s got that coyote skin from the parlour floor tied round his neck again by the paws! He’ll ruin it. Please make him take it off at once. I must hurry, or I’ll miss the train.’
Mrs Raymond sailed elegantly away, and Anne ran upstairs to find that the angelic Geraldine had grasped her brother by the legs and was apparently trying to hurl him bodily out of the window.
‘Miss Shirley, make Gerald stop putting out his tongue at me’, she demanded fiercely.
‘Does it hurt you?’ asked Anne, with a smile.
‘Well, he’s not going to put out his tongue at me,’ retorted Geraldine, darting a baleful look at Gerald, who returned it with interest.
‘My tongue’s my own, and you can’t stop me from putting it out when I like, can she, Miss Shirley?’
Anne ignored the question. ‘Twins dear, it’s just an hour till lunch-time. Shall we go and sit in the garden and play games and tell stories? And, Gerald, won’t you put that coyote skin back on the floor?’
‘But I want to play wolf,’ said Gerald.
‘He wants to play wolf,’ cried Geraldine, suddenly aligning herself on her brother’s side.
‘We want to play wolf,’ they both cried together.
A peal from the doorbell cut the knot of Anne’s dilemma.
‘Come on and see who it is,’ cried Geraldine.
They flew to the stairs, and by reason of sliding down the banisters got to the front door more quickly than Anne, the coyote skin coming unloosed and drifting away in the process.
‘We never buy anything from pedlars,’ Gerald told the lady standing on the doorstep.
‘Can I see your mother?’ asked the caller.
‘No, you can’t. Mother’s gone to Aunt Ella’s funeral. Miss Shirley’s looking after us. That’s her coming down the stairs. She’ll make you scat.’
Anne did feel rather like making the caller ‘scat’ when she saw who it was. Miss Pamela Drake was not a popular caller in Summerside. She was always canvassing for something, and it was generally quite impossible to get rid of her unless you bought it, since she was utterly impervious to snubs and hints, and had apparently all the time in the world at her command.
This time she was ‘taking orders’ for an encyclopaedia, something no school-teacher could afford to be without. Vainly Anne protested that she did not need an encyclopaedia; the High School already possessed a very good one.
‘Ten years out of date,’ said Miss Pamela firmly. ‘We’ll just sit down here on this rustic bench, Miss Shirley, and I’ll show you my prospectus.’
‘I’m afraid I haven’t time, Miss Drake. I have