#cracked ice

gladness in my heart

“Anne-girl, I’m afraid we won’t be able to go to church today,” Gilbert said, though he sounded more bemused than disappointed and though Anne knew he was a regular churchgoer, she wondered if some experience in medical school, something Mrs. Rachel Lynde would have referred to as his cutting up poor folks who daren’t refuse, had made her dear man of science a bit too nonchalant about missing a service.

“I’d like to know the reason why,” she said, sitting up against the pillows and pulling the quilt up around her shoulders, shivering. She’d worn her heaviest nightdress, one that even the finest frill at neck and cuff could do nothing to make becoming, for the storm earlier in the week had left behind a cold snap that Captain Jim remarked upon being a ten year’s wonder. She’d even tucked the seams in the bedroom’s windowsills with the rags in her rag-basket that were meant for a rug, but the room was still drafty.

Cracked Ice