Anne of Ingleside. L. M. Montgomery

so miscalled. Evil-minded, indeed! Did you ever hear, Miss Blythe, of the pot calling the kettle black?"

      "Susan … Susan," said Anne imploringly.

      "I beg your pardon, Mrs. Dr. dear. I admit I have forgotten my place. But there are some things not to be endured."

      Whereupon a door was banged as doors were seldom banged at Ingleside.

      "You see, Annie?" said Aunt Mary Maria significantly. "But I suppose as long as you are willing to overlook that sort of thing in a servant there is nothing anyone can do."

      Gilbert got up and went to the library where a tired man might count on some peace. And Aunt Mary Maria, who didn't like Miss Cornelia, betook herself to bed. So that when Miss Cornelia came in she found Anne alone, drooping rather limply over the baby's basket. Miss Cornelia did not, as usual, start in unloading a budget of gossip. Instead, when she had laid aside her wraps, she sat down beside Anne and took her hand.