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1MATTHEW Cuthbert and the sorrel mare jogged comfortably over the eight miles to Bright River. It was a pretty road,
2running along between snug farmsteads, with now and again a bit of balsamy fir wood to drive through or a hollow where
3wild plums hung out their filmy bloom. The air was sweet with the breath of many apple orchards and the meadows sloped
4away in the distance to horizon mists of pearl and purple; while "The little birds sang as if it were The one day of
5summer in all the year." Matthew enjoyed the drive after his own fashion, except during the moments when he met women
6and had to nod to them--for in Prince Edward Island you are supposed to nod to all and sundry you meet on the road
7whether you know them or not. Matthew dreaded all women except Marilla and Mrs. Rachel; he had an uncomfortable feeling
8that the mysterious creatures were secretly laughing at him. He may have been quite right in thinking so, for he was an
9odd-looking personage, with an ungainly figure and long iron-gray hair that touched his stooping shoulders, and a full,
10soft brown beard which he had worn ever since he was twenty. In fact, he had looked at twenty very much as he looked at
11sixty, lacking a little of the grayness. When he reached Bright River there was no sign of any train; he thought he was
12too early, so he tied his horse in the yard of the small Bright River hotel and went over to the station house. The long
13platform was almost deserted; the only living creature in sight being a girl who was sitting on a pile of shingles at
14the extreme end. Matthew, barely noting that it was a girl, sidled past her as quickly as possible without looking at
15her. Had he looked he could hardly have failed to notice the tense rigidity and expectation of her attitude and
16expression. She was sitting there waiting for something or somebody and, since sitting and waiting was the only thing to
17do just then, she sat and waited with all her might and main. Matthew encountered the stationmaster locking up the
18ticket office preparatory to going home for supper, and asked him if the five-thirty train would soon be along. "The
19five-thirty train has been in and gone half an hour ago," answered that brisk official. "But there was a passenger
20dropped off for you--a little girl. She's sitting out there on the shingles. I asked her to go into the ladies' waiting
21room, but she informed me gravely that she preferred to stay outside. 'There was more scope for imagination,' she said.
22She's a case, I should say." "I'm not expecting a girl," said Matthew blankly. "It's a boy I've come for. He should be
23here. Mrs. Alexander Spencer was to bring him over from Nova Scotia for me." The stationmaster whistled. "Guess there's
24some mistake," he said. "Mrs. Spencer came off the train with that girl and gave her into my charge. Said you and your
25sister were adopting her from an orphan asylum and that you would be along for her presently. That's all I know about
26it--and I haven't got any more orphans concealed hereabouts." "I don't understand," said Matthew helplessly, wishing
27that Marilla was at hand to cope with the situation. "Well, you'd better question the girl," said the stationmaster
28carelessly. "I dare say she'll be able to explain--she's got a tongue of her own, that's certain. Maybe they were out of
29boys of the brand you wanted." He walked jauntily away, being hungry, and the unfortunate Matthew was left to do that
30which was harder for him than bearding a lion in its den--walk up to a girl--a strange girl--an orphan girl--and demand
31of her why she wasn't a boy. Matthew groaned in spirit as he turned about and shuffled gently down the platform towards
32her. She had been watching him ever since he had passed her and she had her eyes on him now. Matthew was not looking at
33her and would not have seen what she was really like if he had been, but an ordinary observer would have seen this: A
34child of about eleven, garbed in a very short, very tight, very ugly dress of yellowish-gray wincey. She wore a faded
35brown sailor hat and beneath the hat, extending down her back, were two braids of very thick, decidedly red hair. Her
36face was small, white and thin, also much freckled; her mouth was large and so were her eyes, which looked green in some
37lights and moods and gray in others. So far, the ordinary observer; an extraordinary observer might have seen that the
38chin was very pointed and pronounced; that the big eyes were full of spirit and vivacity; that the mouth was
39sweet-lipped and expressive; that the forehead was broad and full; in short, our discerning extraordinary observer might
40have concluded that no commonplace soul inhabited the body of this stray woman-child of whom shy Matthew Cuthbert was so
41ludicrously afraid. Matthew, however, was spared the ordeal of speaking first, for as soon as she concluded that he was
42coming to her she stood up, grasping with one thin brown hand the handle of a shabby, old-fashioned carpet-bag; the
43other she held out to him. "I suppose you are Mr. Matthew Cuthbert of Green Gables?" she said in a peculiarly clear,
44sweet voice. "I'm very glad to see you. I was beginning to be afraid you weren't coming for me and I was imagining all
45the things that might have happened to prevent you. I had made up my mind that if you didn't come for me tonight I'd go
46down the track to that big wild cherry-tree at the bend, and climb up into it to stay all night. I wouldn't be a bit
47afraid, and it would be lovely to sleep in a wild cherry-tree all white with bloom in the moonshine, don't you think?
48You could imagine you were dwelling in marble halls, couldn't you? And I was quite sure you would come for me in the
49morning, if you didn't tonight." Matthew had taken the scrawny little hand awkwardly in his; then and there he decided
50what to do. He could not tell this child with the glowing eyes that there had been a mistake; he would take her home and
51let Marilla do that. She couldn't be left at Bright River anyhow, no matter what mistake had been made, so all questions
52and explanations might as well be deferred until he was safely back at Green Gables. "I'm sorry I was late," he said
53shyly. "Come along. The horse is over in the yard. Give me your bag." "Oh, I can carry it," the child responded
54cheerfully. "It isn't heavy. I've got all my worldly goods in it, but it isn't heavy. And if it isn't carried in just a
55certain way the handle pulls out--so I'd better keep it because I know the exact knack of it. It's an extremely old
56carpet-bag. Oh, I'm very glad you've come, even if it would have been nice to sleep in a wild cherry-tree. We've got to
57drive a long piece, haven't we? Mrs. Spencer said it was eight miles. I'm glad because I love driving. Oh, it seems so
58wonderful that I'm going to live with you and belong to you. I've never belonged to anybody--not really. But the asylum
59was the worst. I've only been in it four months, but that was enough. I don't suppose you ever were an orphan in an
60asylum, so you can't possibly understand what it is like. It's worse than anything you could imagine. Mrs. Spencer said
61it was wicked of me to talk like that, but I didn't mean to be wicked. It's so easy to be wicked without knowing it,
62isn't it? They were good, you know--the asylum people. But there is so little scope for the imagination in an
63asylum--only just in the other orphans. It was pretty interesting to imagine things about them--to imagine that perhaps
64the girl who sat next to you was really the daughter of a belted earl, who had been stolen away from her parents in her
65infancy by a cruel nurse who died before she could confess. I used to lie awake at nights and imagine things like that,
66because I didn't have time in the day. I guess that's why I'm so thin--I am dreadful thin, ain't I? There isn't a pick
67on my bones. I do love to imagine I'm nice and plump, with dimples in my elbows."
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