Matthew Cuthbert is Surprised Matthew Cuthbert and the sorrel mare jogged comfortably over the eight miles to Bright River. It was a pretty road, running along between farmsteads with fir and wild plum trees hanging down on either side. The air was sweet with the breath of apple orchards as the meadows sloped away in the distance and the little birds sang as if it were the one day of summer all year.
Matthew enjoyed the drive immensely, except during the moments when he met women and had to nod to them, for in Prince Edward Island you are supposed to nod to everyone you meet on the road whether you know them or not.
Matthew dreaded all women except Marilla and Mrs.Rachel. He had an uncomfortable feeling that these mysterious creatures were secretly laughing at him. He may have been quite right in thinking so, for he was an odd-looking man with an ungainly figure and long iron-gray hair that touched his stooping shoulders, and a full soft brown beard which he had worn since he was twenty.
When he reached Bright River there was no sign of the train. Matthew thought he was too early so he tied his horse in the yard of the small Bright River hotel and went over to the station house. The long platform was almost deserted, the only living creature in sight being a girl who was sitting on a pile of shingles at the far end. Matthew, barely noticinging that it WAS a girl, sidled past her as quickly as possible without looking at her. Had he looked he surely would have noticed the tense look of expectation on her face.
Matthew found the stationmaster locking up the ticket office in preparation to go home for supper, and asked him if the five-thirty train would be along soon.
"The five-thirty train has been in and gone half an hour ago," answered that brisk official. "But there was a passenger dropped off for you, a little girl. She's sitting out there on the shingles. I asked her to go into the ladies' waiting room, but she informed me gravely that she preferred to stay outside. `There was more scope for imagination,' she said. "I'm not expecting a girl," said Matthew blankly. "It's a boy I've come for. He should be here. Mrs. Alexander Spencer was supposed to bring him over from Nova Scotia for me." The stationmaster whistled.
"Guess there's some mistake," he said. "Mrs. Spencer came off the train with that girl and gave her into my charge. Said you and your sister were adopting her from an orphan asylum and that you would be along for her shortly. That's all I know about it, and I haven't got any more orphans concealed here in the stationhouse." "I don't understand," said Matthew helplessly, wishing that Marilla was there to cope with the situation. "Well, you'd better question the girl," said the station-master, "I'm sure she'll be able to explain, she's got a tongue of her own, that's for sure. Maybe the orphanage was out of boys of the type you were looking for." The station master walked jauntily away, and the unfortunate Matthew was left to do what was harder for him than taming a lion in its own den. Matthew was forced to walk up to a girl, a strange orphan girl no less, and demand of her why she wasn't a boy. Matthew groaned to himself as he turned and shuffled gently down the platform towards her.
