"We've been thinking about it for some time-all winter in fact," returned Marilla. "Mrs. Alexander Spencer was up here one day before Christmas and she said she was going to get a little girl from the orphanage over in Hopeton in the spring. So Matthew and I have talked it over off and on ever since. We thought we'd get a boy. Matthew is getting up in years, you know he's sixty, and he isn't so spry as he once was. His heart troubles him a good deal, and you know how difficult it is to get hired help. There's never anybody to be had but those stupid, half-grown little French boys, and as soon as you've taught one them the ways of your farm , he's up and off to the lobster canneries or the States. So in the end we decided to ask Mrs. Spencer to pick us out a smart, likeable boy of about ten or eleven when she went to get her little girl from the orphanage. We decided that would be the best age. Old enough to be of some use in doing chores right away and young enough to be trained properly. We mean to give him a good home and schooling. We had a telegram from Mrs. Alexander Spencer today, saying they were coming on the five-thirty train tonight. That's why Matthew went to Bright River to meet him. Mrs. Rachel prided herself on always speaking her mind, and she proceeded to speak it now.
"Well, Marilla, I'll just tell you that I think you're doing a mighty foolish thing--a risky thing, that's what. You don't know what you're getting. You're bringing a strange child into your home and you don't know a single thing about him, what his disposition is, what sort of parents he had, or how he's likely to turn out! Why, it was only last week I read in the paper how a man and his wife up west of the Island took a boy out of an orphanage and he set fire to the house at night--set it ON PURPOSE, Marilla--and nearly burnt them to a crisp in their beds. And I know another case where an adopted boy used to suck the eggs out of the hen house, they couldn't break him of it. If you had asked my advice in the matter--which you didn't do, Marilla--I'd have said for mercy's sake not to think of such a thing, that's what." Mrs. Rachel's words seemed neither to offend nor to alarm Marilla and she knitted steadily on. "I don't deny there's something in what you say, Rachel. I've had some qualms myself. But Matthew was set on it the idea and I could see that, so I gave in. It's so seldom Matthew feels that strongly about anything, that when he does I always feel it's my duty to give in. And as for the risk, there's risks in practically everything a person does in this world. There are risks in people having children of their own, and it isn't as if we were getting the boy from England or the States. Nova Scotia is right close to the Island, so really he can't be much different from ourselves." "Well, I hope it will turn out all right," said Mrs. Rachel in a tone that plainly indicated her painful doubts. "Only don't say I didn't warn you if he burns Green Gables down or puts strychnine in the well--I heard of a case over in New Brunswick where a child from an orphanage did that and the whole family died in fearful agonies. Only, it was a girl in that instance." "Well, we're not getting a girl," said Marilla, as if poisoning wells were a purely feminine accomplishment and not to be dreaded in the case of the boy they were to be receiving. "I'd never dream of taking a girl to bring up." Mrs. Rachel would have liked to stay until Matthew came home with the orphan, but reflecting that it would be a good two hours before his arrival she concluded to go up the road to Robert Bell's and tell the news. It would certainly make a sensation second to none, and Mrs. Rachel dearly loved to make a sensation. So she left the Cuthbert farm, much to Marilla's relief, for Marilla felt her doubts of adopting this child growing stronger under the influence of Mrs. Rachel's pessimism.
