Paul looked very sober.
“If it depended on me, teacher,” he said, standing before Anne with his hands in his pockets and his beautiful little face shadowed with sudden care, “You should have shortbread with a right good will. But it depends on Mary Joe. I heard Grandma tell her before she left that she wasn’t to give me any shortcake because it was too rich for little boys’ stomachs. But maybe Mary Joe will cut some for you if I promise I won’t eat any. Let us hope for the best.”
“Yes, let us,” agreed Anne, whom this cheerful philosophy suited exactly, “and if Mary Joe proves hard-hearted and won’t give me any shortbread it doesn’t matter in the least, so you are not to worry over that.”
“You’re sure you won’t mind if she doesn’t?” said Paul anxiously.
“Perfectly sure, dear heart.”
“Then I won’t worry,” said Paul, with a long breath of relief, “especially as I really think Mary Joe will listen to reason. She’s not a naturally unreasonable person, but she has learned by experience that it doesn’t do to disobey Grandma’s orders. Grandma is an excellent woman but people must do as she tells them. She was very much pleased with me this morning because I managed at last to eat all my plateful of porridge. It was a great effort but I succeeded. Grandma says she thinks she’ll make a man of me yet. But, teacher, I want to ask you a very important question. You will answer it truthfully, won’t you?”
“I’ll try,” promised Anne.
“Do you think I’m wrong in my upper story?” asked Paul, as if his very existence depended on her reply.
“Goodness, no, Paul,” exclaimed Anne in amazement. “Certainly you’re not. What put such an idea into your head?”
“Mary Joe . . . but she didn’t know I heard her. Mrs. Peter Sloane’s hired girl, Veronica, came to see Mary Joe last evening and I heard them talking in the kitchen as I was going through the hall. I heard Mary Joe say, ‘Dat Paul, he is de queeres’ leetle boy. He talks dat queer. I tink dere’s someting wrong in his upper story.’ I couldn’t sleep last night for ever so long, thinking of it, and wondering if Mary Joe was right. I couldn’t bear to ask Grandma about it somehow, but I made up my mind I’d ask you. I’m so glad you think I’m all right in my upper story.”