Page:Anne's house of dreams (1920 Canada).djvu/318

 matter what he says, she at once remarks in that drab, lifeless little voice of hers, ‘That is very true, John, dear me!’”

Anne and Leslie laughed. Anne’s laughter was silver and Leslie’s golden, and the combination of the two was as satisfactory as a perfect chord in music.

Susan, coming in on the heels of the laughter, echoed it with a resounding sigh.

“Why, Susan, what is the matter?” asked Gilbert.

“There’s nothing wrong with little Jem, is there, Susan?” cried Anne, starting up in alarm.

“No, no, calm yourself, Mrs. Doctor, dear. Something has happened, though. Dear me, everything has gone catawampus with me this week. I spoiled the bread, as you know too well—and I scorched the doctor’s best shirt bosom—and I broke your big platter. And now, on the top of all this, comes word that my sister Matilda has broken her leg and wants me to go and stay with her for a spell.”

“Oh, I’m very sorry—sorry that your sister has met with such an accident, I mean,” exclaimed Anne.

“Ah, well, man was made to mourn, Mrs. Doctor, dear. That sounds as if it ought to be in the Bible, but they tell me a person named Burns wrote it. And there is no doubt that we are born to trouble as the sparks fly upward. As for Matilda, I do not know what to think of her. None of our family ever broke their legs before. But whatever she has done she is