e hill. Mrs. Rachel peered at it
eagerly.

"There's Marilla getting home from the funeral," she said to her
husband, who was lying on the kitchen lounge. Thomas Lynde lay more on
the lounge nowadays than he had been used to do, but Mrs. Rachel, who
was so sharp at noticing anything beyond her own household, had not as
yet noticed this. "And she's got the twins with her, . . . yes, there's
Davy leaning over the dashboard grabbing at the pony's tail and Marilla
jerking him back. Dora's sitting up on the seat as prim as you please.
She always looks as if she'd just been starched and ironed. Well, poor
Marilla is going to have her hands full this winter and no mistake.
Still, I don't see that she could do anything less than take them, under
the circumstances, and she'll have Anne to help her. Anne's tickled
to death over the whole business, and she has a real knacky way with
children, I must say. Dear me, it doesn't seem a day since poor Matthew
brought Anne herself home and everybody laughed at the idea of Marilla
bringing up a child. And now she has adopted twins. You're never safe
from being surprised till you're dead."

The fat pony jogged over the bridge in Lynde's Hollow and along the
Green Gables lane. Marilla's face was rather grim. It was ten miles from
East Grafton and Davy Keith seemed to be possessed with a passion for
perpetual motion. It was beyond Marilla's power to make him sit still
and she had been in an agony the whole way lest he fall over the back
of the wagon and break his neck, or tumble over the dashboard under the
pony's heels. In despair she finally threatened to whip him soundly when
she got him home. Whereupon Davy climbed into her lap, regardless of
the reins, flung his chubby arms about her neck and gave her a bear-like
hug.

"I don't believe you mean it," he said, smacking her wrinkled cheek
affectionately. "You don't LOOK like a lady who'd whip a little boy just
'cause he couldn't keep still. Didn't you find it awful hard to keep
still when you was only 's old as me?"

"No, I always kept still when I was told," said Marilla, trying to speak
sternly, albeit she felt her heart waxing soft within her under Davy's
impulsive caresses.

"Well, I s'pose that was 'cause you was a girl," said Davy, squirming
back to his place after another hug. "You WAS a girl once, I s'pose,
though it's awful funny to think of it. Dora can sit still . . . but there
ain't much fun in it _I_ don't think. Seems to