"A terrible worker and driver," Mrs. Peter was said to be; and discharged servant girls told fearsome tales of her temper and stinginess, and her family of pert, quarrelsome children.
Marilla felt a qualm of conscience at the thought of handing Anne over to her tender mercies.
"Well, I'll go in and we'll talk the matter over," she said.
"And if there isn't Mrs. Peter coming up the lane this blessed minute!" exclaimed Mrs. Spencer, bustling her guests through the hall into the parlor, where a deadly chill struck on them as if the air had been strained so long through dark green, closely drawn blinds that it had lost every particle of warmth it had ever possessed.
"That is real lucky, for we can settle the matter right away.
Take the armchair, Miss Cuthbert.
Anne, you sit here on the ottoman and don't wiggle.
Let me take your hats.
Flora Jane, go out and put the kettle on.
Good afternoon, Mrs. Blewett.