Further Chronicles of Avonlea
IX. Sara's Way
The warm June sunshine was coming down through the trees, white with the virginal
bloom of apple-blossoms, and through the shining panes, making a tremulous mosaic
upon Mrs. Eben Andrews' spotless kitchen floor. Through the open door, a wind,
fragrant from long wanderings over orchards and clover meadows, drifted in, and, from
the window, Mrs. Eben and her guest could look down over a long, misty valley sloping
to a sparkling sea.
Mrs. Jonas Andrews was spending the afternoon with her sister-in-law. She was a big,
sonsy woman, with full-blown peony cheeks and large, dreamy, brown eyes. When she
had been a slim, pink-and-white girl those eyes had been very romantic. Now they were
so out of keeping with the rest of her appearance as to be ludicrous.
Mrs. Eben, sitting at the other end of the small tea-table that was drawn up against the
window, was a thin little woman, with a very sharp nose and light, faded blue eyes. She
looked like a woman whose opinions were always very decided and warranted to wear.
"How does Sara like teaching at Newbridge?" asked Mrs. Jonas, helping herself a
second time to Mrs. Eben's matchless black fruit cake, and thereby bestowing a subtle
compliment which Mrs. Eben did not fail to appreciate.
"Well, I guess she likes it pretty well--better than down at White Sands, anyway,"
answered Mrs. Eben. "Yes, I may say it suits her. Of course it's a long walk there and
back. I think it would have been wiser for her to keep on boarding at Morrison's, as she
did all winter, but Sara is bound to be home all she can. And I must say the walk seems
to agree with her."
"I was down to see Jonas' aunt at Newbridge last night," said Mrs. Jonas, "and she said
she'd heard that Sara had made up her mind to take Lige Baxter at last, and that they
were to be married in the fall. She asked me if it was true. I said I didn't know, but I
hoped to mercy it was. Now, is it, Louisa?"
"Not a word of it," said Mrs. Eben sorrowfully. "Sara hasn't any more notion of taking
Lige than ever she had. I'm sure it's not MY fault. I've talked and argued till I'm tired. I
declare to you, Amelia, I am terribly disappointed. I'd set my heart on Sara's marrying
Lige--and now to think she won't!"
"She is a very foolish girl," said Mrs. Jonas, judicially. "If Lige Baxter isn't good enough
for her, who is?"
"And he's so well off," said Mrs. Eben, "and does such a good business, and is well
spoken of by every one. And that lovely new house of his at Newbridge, with bay