Mrs. Borden just did. She and Florence had wondered whether Marilla had made any invidious comparisons about the change to actual service instead of being treated as a guest in a fine house.
“If—you’d like me to,” with the proper hesitation. 166
“Oh, yes. And I used to tell him about the babies, that they were so good and hardly ever cried, and how I told them stories and they laughed just as if they understood—didn’t they?”
“You made them understand. You’re an odd little girl, Marilla, and I don’t know what we would do without you, but then you do really belong to us. I do suppose the baths would be a good thing if you were not afraid. Now, we can’t coax Jack to go in the water, though he delights to run along the edge barefooted. That’s fun for the children. But you see if we all went some one must look after the children. Then there’s the time for their nap and there’d be no one to go with you. There seems so many things to do in the afternoon now that we have joined the Clubs. And there’s teas and things––”
“Yes,” Marilla returned, meekly.
“Why wouldn’t you go in the water?” she asked Jack a few days afterward.
“’Cause there’s sharks. Stevie said so. An’ they eat up people.”
“Why don’t they eat up—well, they haven’t eaten up any one yet. We should have heard of it.” 167
“They only eat up children. The big folks kick ’em out of the way. But you’ve got to be real strong an’ have a big foot. You just give it to ’em by the side of the jaw and they flop down in the water. That big Jimmy Lane has seen them lots of times.”
There was a great sand heap where the smaller children went to play and tumble about and build forts and ovens and sometimes sand each other. Marilla took the babies out in the carriage after they had their dinner and were dressed afresh. Sometimes she met the girls sauntering about, sometimes with the nurse maids. The two ladies went to a Whist Club, and one afternoon played Bridge, and between times they met on each others’ porches.