"Well, anyway, he didn't marry her, and she's been as queer as possible
ever since, they say . . . living all by herself in that little stone
house she calls Echo Lodge. Stephen went off to the States and went
into business with his uncle and married a Yankee. He's never been home
since, though his mother has been up to see him once or twice. His wife
died two years ago and he's sending the boy home to his mother for a
spell. He's ten years old and I don't know if he'll be a very desirable
pupil. You can never tell about those Yankees."

Mrs Lynde looked upon all people who had the misfortune to be born
or brought up elsewhere than in Prince Edward Island with a decided
can-any-good-thing-come-out-of-Nazareth air. They MIGHT be good people,
of course; but you were on the safe side in doubting it. She had a
special prejudice against "Yankees." Her husband had been cheated out
of ten dollars by an employer for whom he had once worked in Boston and
neither angels nor principalities nor powers could have convinced Mrs.
Rachel that the whole United States was not responsible for it.

"Avonlea school won't be the worse for a little new blood," said Marilla
drily, "and if this boy is anything like his father he'll be all right.
Steve Irving was the nicest boy that was ever raised in these parts,
though some people did call him proud. I should think Mrs. Irving would
be very glad to have the child. She has been very lonesome since her
husband died."

"Oh, the boy may be well enough, but he'll be different from Avonlea
children," said Mrs. Rachel, as if that clinched the matter. Mrs.
Rachel's opinions concerning any person, place, or thing, were always
warranted to wear. "What's this I hear about your going to start up a