Matthew was smoking-a sure sign of perturbation of mind.
He seldom smoked, for Marilla set her face against it as a filthy habit; but at certain times and seasons he felt driven to it and them Marilla winked at the practice, realizing that a mere man must have some vent for his emotions.
"Well, this is a pretty kettle of fish," she said wrathfully.
"This is what comes of sending word instead of going ourselves.
Richard Spencer's folks have twisted that message somehow.
One of us will have to drive over and see Mrs. Spencer tomorrow, that's certain.
This girl will have to be sent back to the asylum."
"Yes, I suppose so," said Matthew reluctantly.
"You SUPPOSE so! Don't you know it?"
"Well now, she's a real nice little thing, Marilla. It's kind of a pity to send her back when she's so set on staying here."