“Oh, I’d like to stay here. I don’t know what I’d do if I was Miss Armitage’s bound-out girl. Jane does everything and—cook does the meals. She might let me wipe the dishes. But—maybe you don’t know I’m bound-out to Mrs. Borden until I’m eighteen, so I shall have to go back. And the babies need me. I’m teaching them to talk. I’m almost Cinderella, not the kitchen kind, though I wouldn’t mind that with Bridget.” 96
“I heard you went to the King’s ball with a fairy godmother. Would you mind telling me?”
Marilla colored. Yes, she would be quite pretty if she wasn’t so thin.
“Why it was just a dream. And I was asleep by the kitchen stove. I hadn’t any belief in her at first. Oh, do you know anything about that curious part of your brain that dreams?”
“No, I do not. I think no one really does. I suppose you had been reading about Cinderella.”
“I used to read it over to the babies, or tell them. But there was Red Riding Hood and Jack and the Beanstalk and Hop o’ My Thumb. Jack had them all, but I never dreamed of them. And the babies seemed to understand them all. They laughed at the funny places and they looked so shocked at the dreadful things, and were so pleased when the old wolf fell down the chimney, dead. Why it was just delightful to me, only sometimes I did get tired talking so much and had to wait for my breath.”
“Are you tired now?” and he listened a moment to her heart. 97
“Oh, no. I feel all good and rested, and Jane said I ate a nice breakfast. I’m almost well, though I wouldn’t mind being ill a long, long while if I could stay here. There was a little girl once who died and went to heaven. Miss Florence had the book. That wasn’t any fairy story, and I think this must be a good deal like heaven. It’s so quiet with no one troubling you, and when Miss Armitage plays––”
Her soft eyes were like wind-blown lakes and the far-away sight moved him inexpressibly.
“Suppose you tell me about the dream?”