Mrs. Marjorie Lynde was what some of the Avonlea folk called nosy, and what the nicer folk called knowledgeable. Either way, it was her sixth sense for gossip that led her out onto her porch one sunny spring morning and led her to see a strange sight. Mr. Bob Vance was in his buggy, not his work wagon, and what was more, he was dressed in a suit.  

"Thomas! Bob Vance is in his buggy and he's wearing a suit!" she called to her husband, who was so mild-mannered that folks called him 'Marjorie Lynde's husband'.

"Perhaps he's going courting," Thomas said from his garden, where he was pruning his roses.     

Marjorie looked annoyed and said, "Thomas, don't joke. You know very well that he's happily married to Phyllis."

            Thomas shrugged, and Marjorie peered down the road toward Green Gables. "Well, Phyllis will just have to explain herself," she said more to herself than to her husband, hurrying into the house and finding her second best hat and untying her apron.

She made her way down the tree-lined lane that led to Green Gables. People still called it the Cuthbert place, even though Phyllis Cuthbert had surprised the entire village five years ago by agreeing to walk home from church with Bob Vance, of Vance Dairy. He had been a bachelor living with his brothers, and two years ago, he and Phyllis had married. He had moved into Green Gables and operated a modest dairy outfit, to which Marjorie was fiercely loyal.  She maintained that the milk from his cows was sweeter and more wholesome than that of the Newbridge dairyman's cows.

Marjorie strode purposefully up to the white farmhouse with green trim, from which Green Gables got its name and knocked on the kitchen door.

Something that could be called friendship existed between Marjorie and Phyllis, who had known each other since they were girls. A back complaint had kept Phyllis from running and playing with the other children at times, and she had always been quiet. This was quite a difference from Marjorie, who had been outspoken her whole life, and while Marjorie had married young and raised ten successful children, Phyllis had played dutiful daughter and cared for her aged parents, who were both gone now. She had never married, which made it all the more shocking when Bob Vance of Vance Dairy had walked her home from church some years previously. 

Phyllis opened the kitchen door and smiled. "Good morning, Marjorie," she said, untying her calico apron and smoothing her spotless shirtwaist. As Marjorie strode in, Phyllis continued, "Won't you come in and have some tea?"

            Marjorie looked with interest at the worn but spotless wooden table. It was set for tea for three, but Phyllis had used the everyday dishes, not the company china. There was only one kind of cake, and just one kind of preserves, which was not like Phyllis at all. Marjorie was perplexed, and she looked at Phyllis in consternation. "Oh, please tell me why Bob was in his buggy in a suit! He was going too slowly for a doctor!" she said anxiously. Phyllis smiled as she turned to the woodstove and set a kettle to boil. 

"Bob and I have decided to adopt a little boy from the orphan asylum in Hopetown," she said, taking another teacup and saucer from the cupboard by the pump.

Marjorie ignored all rules of civility as her jaw fell open in shock. "Phyllis Cuthbert, whyever would you do that?" she cried.

"Phyllis Vance, and we decided this past winter when Mrs. Alexander Spencer was up to visit. She's getting a little girl for herself, and we figured since we won't be blessed with children, we should consider adopting one. Bob's getting up in years, and he needs a bit of extra help with the dairy. His brother Randolph might be moving out West," said Phyllis, settling down at the kitchen table.

Marjorie still sat dumbly. Of all the things she expected her meek friend to do, adopting an orphan boy was the very last. She wouldn't have been more surprised to hear they were adopting a kangaroo from Australia. 

Phyllis cut some cake as she continued, "We asked Mrs. Spencer to choose a likely boy of ten or twelve, young enough to raise right but old enough to be of some help on the farm. Bob is picking him up at the train station in Bright River this morning."

"Well, Phyllis, I hope you are prepared to reap the consequences," said Marjorie breathlessly as she liberally poured cream into her tea, "I've heard horror stories about orphans stealing and lying, and just last year, an orphan over in Carmody killed the whole family- put strychnine in the well. Only that one was a girl."

"Well, we're not getting a girl. I would have no idea what to do with a girl, and I don't need any help with the housework. I've managed quite well on my own all these years, and a boy would be so much more helpful on the farm," said Phyllis, and Marjorie nodded. 

"I've raised five of each, and I can tell you, boys are easier," she said. 

The two friends took their tea in affable silence, each occupied with her own thoughts about what this child might bring. Phyllis decided it would be so nice to have a child's voice in the house, and Bob could train him up to be a real good farmer, and then Green Gables would be his someday. Marjorie decided she would just have to wait and see if this child was a stealer or a poisoner. 

After tea, Marjorie stood and thanked Phyllis. "I have to be getting on down to Lawson's to buy a few odds and ends," she said, and Phyllis knew the story would be all over the entire village in just a few moments.

"Thank you for the visit, and do drop in tomorrow to meet the boy, won't you?" Phyllis asked, knowing she'd be lucky if Marjorie waited a whole day.

"Of course I will. Good luck, Phyllis," said Marjorie as she left Green Gables, thinking privately that Phyllis would have her work cut out for her.