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1ANNE OF GREEN GABLES
2
3By Lucy Maud Montgomery
4
5
6
7Table of Contents
8
9     CHAPTER I          Mrs. Rachel Lynde Is Surprised
10     CHAPTER II         Matthew Cuthbert Is Surprised
11     CHAPTER III        Marilla Cuthbert Is Surprised
12     CHAPTER IV         Morning at Green Gables
13     CHAPTER V          Anne’s History
14     CHAPTER VI         Marilla Makes Up Her Mind
15     CHAPTER VII        Anne Says Her Prayers
16     CHAPTER VIII       Anne’s Bringing-Up Is Begun
17     CHAPTER IX         Mrs. Rachel Lynde Is Properly Horrified
18     CHAPTER X          Anne’s Apology
19     CHAPTER XI         Anne’s Impressions of Sunday School
20     CHAPTER XII        A Solemn Vow and Promise
21     CHAPTER XIII       The Delights of Anticipation
22     CHAPTER XIV        Anne’s Confession
23     CHAPTER XV         A Tempest in the School Teapot
24     CHAPTER XVI        Diana Is Invited to Tea with Tragic Results
25     CHAPTER XVII       A New Interest in Life
26     CHAPTER XVIII      Anne to the Rescue
27     CHAPTER XIX        A Concert a Catastrophe and a Confession
28     CHAPTER XX         A Good Imagination Gone Wrong
29     CHAPTER XXI        A New Departure in Flavorings
30     CHAPTER XXII       Anne is Invited Out to Tea
31     CHAPTER XXIII      Anne Comes to Grief in an Affair of Honor
32     CHAPTER XXIV       Miss Stacy and Her Pupils Get Up a Concert
33     CHAPTER XXV        Matthew Insists on Puffed Sleeves
34     CHAPTER XXVI       The Story Club Is Formed
35     CHAPTER XXVII      Vanity and Vexation of Spirit
36     CHAPTER XXVIII     An Unfortunate Lily Maid
37     CHAPTER XXIX       An Epoch in Anne’s Life
38     CHAPTER XXX        The Queens Class Is Organized
39     CHAPTER XXXI       Where the Brook and River Meet
40     CHAPTER XXXII      The Pass List Is Out
41     CHAPTER XXXIII     The Hotel Concert
42     CHAPTER XXXIV      A Queen’s Girl
43     CHAPTER XXXV       The Winter at Queen’s
44     CHAPTER XXXVI      The Glory and the Dream
45     CHAPTER XXXVII     The Reaper Whose Name Is Death
46     CHAPTER XXXVIII    The Bend in the road
47
48
49
50
51ANNE OF GREEN GABLES
52
53
54
55
56CHAPTER I. Mrs. Rachel Lynde is Surprised
57
58
59|MRS. Rachel Lynde lived just where the Avonlea main road dipped down
60into a little hollow, fringed with alders and ladies’ eardrops and
61traversed by a brook that had its source away back in the woods of the
62old Cuthbert place; it was reputed to be an intricate, headlong brook
63in its earlier course through those woods, with dark secrets of pool
64and cascade; but by the time it reached Lynde’s Hollow it was a quiet,
65well-conducted little stream, for not even a brook could run past Mrs.
66Rachel Lynde’s door without due regard for decency and decorum; it
67probably was conscious that Mrs. Rachel was sitting at her window,
68keeping a sharp eye on everything that passed, from brooks and children
69up, and that if she noticed anything odd or out of place she would never
70rest until she had ferreted out the whys and wherefores thereof.
71
72There are plenty of people in Avonlea and out of it, who can attend
73closely to their neighbor’s business by dint of neglecting their own;
74but Mrs. Rachel Lynde was one of those capable creatures who can manage
75their own concerns and those of other folks into the bargain. She was a
76notable housewife; her work was always done and well done; she “ran” the
77Sewing Circle, helped run the Sunday-school, and was the strongest prop
78of the Church Aid Society and Foreign Missions Auxiliary. Yet with all
79this Mrs. Rachel found abundant time to sit for hours at her kitchen
80window, knitting “cotton warp” quilts--she had knitted sixteen of them,
81as Avonlea housekeepers were wont to tell in awed voices--and keeping
82a sharp eye on the main road that crossed the hollow and wound up
83the steep red hill beyond. Since Avonlea occupied a little triangular
84peninsula jutting out into the Gulf of St. Lawrence with water on two
85sides of it, anybody who went out of it or into it had to pass over that
86hill road and so run the unseen gauntlet of Mrs. Rachel’s all-seeing
87eye.
88
89She was sitting there one afternoon in early June. The sun was coming in
90at the window warm and bright; the orchard on the slope below the house
91was in a bridal flush of pinky-white bloom, hummed over by a myriad of
92bees. Thomas Lynde--a meek little man whom Avonlea people called “Rachel
93Lynde’s husband”--was sowing his late turnip seed on the hill field
94beyond the barn; and Matthew Cuthbert ought to have been sowing his on
95the big red brook field away over by Green Gables. Mrs. Rachel knew
96that he ought because she had heard him tell Peter Morrison the evening
97before in William J. Blair’s store over at Carmody that he meant to sow
98his turnip seed the next afternoon. Peter had asked him, of course, for
99Matthew Cuthbert had never been known to volunteer information about
100anything in his whole life.
101
102And yet here was Matthew Cuthbert, at half-past three on the afternoon
103of a busy day, placidly driving over the hollow and up the hill;
104moreover, he wore a white collar and his best suit of clothes, which was
105plain proof that he was going out of Avonlea; and he had the buggy
106and the sorrel mare, which betokened that he was going a considerable
107distance. Now, where was Matthew Cuthbert going and why was he going
108there?
109
110Had it been any other man in Avonlea, Mrs. Rachel, deftly putting this
111and that together, might have given a pretty good guess as to both
112questions. But Matthew so rarely went from home that it must be
113something pressing and unusual which was taking him; he was the shyest
114man alive and hated to have to go among strangers or to any place where
115he might have to talk. Matthew, dressed up with a white collar and
116driving in a buggy, was something that didn’t happen often. Mrs. Rachel,
117ponder as she might, could make nothing of it and her afternoon’s
118enjoyment was spoiled.
119
120“I’ll just step over to Green Gables after tea and find out from Marilla
121where he’s gone and why,” the worthy woman finally concluded. “He
122doesn’t generally go to town this time of year and he _never_ visits; if
123he’d run out of turnip seed he wouldn’t dress up and take the buggy to
124go for more; he wasn’t driving fast enough to be going for a doctor.
125Yet something must have happened since last night to start him off. I’m
126clean puzzled, that’s what, and I won’t know a minute’s peace of mind or
127conscience until I know what has taken Matthew Cuthbert out of Avonlea
128today.”
129
130Accordingly after tea Mrs. Rachel set out; she had not far to go; the
131big, rambling, orchard-embowered house where the Cuthberts lived was a
132scant quarter of a mile up the road from Lynde’s Hollow. To be sure, the
133long lane made it a good deal further. Matthew Cuthbert’s father, as
134shy and silent as his son after him, had got as far away as he possibly
135could from his fellow men without actually retreating into the woods
136when he founded his homestead. Green Gables was built at the furthest
137edge of his cleared land and there it was to this day, barely visible
138from the main road along which all the other Avonlea houses were so
139sociably situated. Mrs. Rachel Lynde did not call living in such a place
140_living_ at all.
141
142“It’s just _staying_, that’s what,” she said as she stepped along the
143deep-rutted, grassy lane bordered with wild rose bushes. “It’s no wonder
144Matthew and Marilla are both a little odd, living away back here by
145themselves. Trees aren’t much company, though dear knows if they were
146there’d be enough of them. I’d ruther look at people. To be sure, they
147seem contented enough; but then, I suppose, they’re used to it. A body
148can get used to anything, even to being hanged, as the Irishman said.”
149
150With this Mrs. Rachel stepped out of the lane into the backyard of Green
151Gables. Very green and neat and precise was that yard, set about on one
152side with great patriarchal willows and the other with prim Lombardies.
153Not a stray stick nor stone was to be seen, for Mrs. Rachel would have
154seen it if there had been. Privately she was of the opinion that Marilla
155Cuthbert swept that yard over as often as she swept her house. One could
156have eaten a meal off the ground without over-brimming the proverbial
157peck of dirt.
158
159Mrs. Rachel rapped smartly at the kitchen door and stepped in
160when bidden to do so. The kitchen at Green Gables was a cheerful
161apartment--or would have been cheerful if it had not been so painfully
162clean as to give it something of the appearance of an unused parlor. Its
163windows looked east and west; through the west one, looking out on
164the back yard, came a flood of mellow June sunlight; but the east one,
165whence you got a glimpse of the bloom white cherry-trees in the left
166orchard and nodding, slender birches down in the hollow by the brook,
167was greened over by a tangle of vines. Here sat Marilla Cuthbert, when
168she sat at all, always slightly distrustful of sunshine, which seemed to
169her too dancing and irresponsible a thing for a world which was meant to
170be taken seriously; and here she sat now, knitting, and the table behind
171her was laid for supper.
172
173Mrs. Rachel, before she had fairly closed the door, had taken a mental
174note of everything that was on that table. There were three plates laid,
175so that Marilla must be expecting some one home with Matthew to tea; but
176the dishes were everyday dishes and there was only crab-apple preserves
177and one kind of cake, so that the expected company could not be any
178particular company. Yet what of Matthew’s white collar and the sorrel
179mare? Mrs. Rachel was getting fairly dizzy with this unusual mystery
180about quiet, unmysterious Green Gables.
181
182“Good evening, Rachel,” Marilla said briskly. “This is a real fine
183evening, isn’t it? Won’t you sit down? How are all your folks?”
184
185Something that for lack of any other name might be called friendship
186existed and always had existed between Marilla Cuthbert and Mrs. Rachel,
187in spite of--or perhaps because of--their dissimilarity.
188
189Marilla was a tall, thin woman, with angles and without curves; her dark
190hair showed some gray streaks and was always twisted up in a hard little
191knot behind with two wire hairpins stuck aggressively through it. She
192looked like a woman of narrow experience and rigid conscience, which she
193was; but there was a saving something about her mouth which, if it had
194been ever so slightly developed, might have been considered indicative
195of a sense of humor.
196
197“We’re all pretty well,” said Mrs. Rachel. “I was kind of afraid _you_
198weren’t, though, when I saw Matthew starting off today. I thought maybe
199he was going to the doctor’s.”
200
201Marilla’s lips twitched understandingly. She had expected Mrs.
202Rachel up; she had known that the sight of Matthew jaunting off so
203unaccountably would be too much for her neighbor’s curiosity.
204
205“Oh, no, I’m quite well although I had a bad headache yesterday,” she
206said. “Matthew went to Bright River. We’re getting a little boy from an
207orphan asylum in Nova Scotia and he’s coming on the train tonight.”
208
209If Marilla had said that Matthew had gone to Bright River to meet a
210kangaroo from Australia Mrs. Rachel could not have been more astonished.
211She was actually stricken dumb for five seconds. It was unsupposable
212that Marilla was making fun of her, but Mrs. Rachel was almost forced to
213suppose it.
214
215“Are you in earnest, Marilla?” she demanded when voice returned to her.
216
217“Yes, of course,” said Marilla, as if getting boys from orphan asylums
218in Nova Scotia were part of the usual spring work on any well-regulated
219Avonlea farm instead of being an unheard of innovation.
220
221Mrs. Rachel felt that she had received a severe mental jolt. She thought
222in exclamation points. A boy! Marilla and Matthew Cuthbert of all people
223adopting a boy! From an orphan asylum! Well, the world was certainly
224turning upside down! She would be surprised at nothing after this!
225Nothing!
226
227“What on earth put such a notion into your head?” she demanded
228disapprovingly.
229
230This had been done without her advice being asked, and must perforce be
231disapproved.
232
233“Well, we’ve been thinking about it for some time--all winter in fact,”
234 returned Marilla. “Mrs. Alexander Spencer was up here one day before
235Christmas and she said she was going to get a little girl from the
236asylum over in Hopeton in the spring. Her cousin lives there and Mrs.
237Spencer has visited here and knows all about it. So Matthew and I have
238talked it over off and on ever since. We thought we’d get a boy. Matthew
239is getting up in years, you know--he’s sixty--and he isn’t so spry as he
240once was. His heart troubles him a good deal. And you know how desperate
241hard it’s got to be to get hired help. There’s never anybody to be had
242but those stupid, half-grown little French boys; and as soon as you do
243get one broke into your ways and taught something he’s up and off to the
244lobster canneries or the States. At first Matthew suggested getting a
245Home boy. But I said ‘no’ flat to that. ‘They may be all right--I’m not
246saying they’re not--but no London street Arabs for me,’ I said. ‘Give
247me a native born at least. There’ll be a risk, no matter who we get. But
248I’ll feel easier in my mind and sleep sounder at nights if we get a born
249Canadian.’ So in the end we decided to ask Mrs. Spencer to pick us out
250one when she went over to get her little girl. We heard last week she
251was going, so we sent her word by Richard Spencer’s folks at Carmody
252to bring us a smart, likely boy of about ten or eleven. We decided that
253would be the best age--old enough to be of some use in doing chores
254right off and young enough to be trained up proper. We mean to give him
255a good home and schooling. We had a telegram from Mrs. Alexander Spencer
256today--the mail-man brought it from the station--saying they were coming
257on the five-thirty train tonight. So Matthew went to Bright River to
258meet him. Mrs. Spencer will drop him off there. Of course she goes on to
259White Sands station herself.”
260
261Mrs. Rachel prided herself on always speaking her mind; she proceeded to
262speak it now, having adjusted her mental attitude to this amazing piece
263of news.
264
265“Well, Marilla, I’ll just tell you plain that I think you’re doing a
266mighty foolish thing--a risky thing, that’s what. You don’t know what
267you’re getting. You’re bringing a strange child into your house and home
268and you don’t know a single thing about him nor what his disposition is
269like nor what sort of parents he had nor how he’s likely to turn out.
270Why, it was only last week I read in the paper how a man and his wife up
271west of the Island took a boy out of an orphan asylum and he set fire to
272the house at night--set it _on purpose_, Marilla--and nearly burnt them to
273a crisp in their beds. And I know another case where an adopted boy used
274to suck the eggs--they couldn’t break him of it. If you had asked my
275advice in the matter--which you didn’t do, Marilla--I’d have said for
276mercy’s sake not to think of such a thing, that’s what.”
277
278This Job’s comforting seemed neither to offend nor to alarm Marilla. She
279knitted steadily on.
280
281“I don’t deny there’s something in what you say, Rachel. I’ve had some
282qualms myself. But Matthew was terrible set on it. I could see that, so
283I gave in. It’s so seldom Matthew sets his mind on anything that when he
284does I always feel it’s my duty to give in. And as for the risk, there’s
285risks in pretty near everything a body does in this world. There’s risks
286in people’s having children of their own if it comes to that--they don’t
287always turn out well. And then Nova Scotia is right close to the Island.
288It isn’t as if we were getting him from England or the States. He can’t
289be much different from ourselves.”
290
291“Well, I hope it will turn out all right,” said Mrs. Rachel in a tone
292that plainly indicated her painful doubts. “Only don’t say I didn’t
293warn you if he burns Green Gables down or puts strychnine in the well--I
294heard of a case over in New Brunswick where an orphan asylum child did
295that and the whole family died in fearful agonies. Only, it was a girl
296in that instance.”
297
298“Well, we’re not getting a girl,” said Marilla, as if poisoning wells
299were a purely feminine accomplishment and not to be dreaded in the case
300of a boy. “I’d never dream of taking a girl to bring up. I wonder at
301Mrs. Alexander Spencer for doing it. But there, _she_ wouldn’t shrink
302from adopting a whole orphan asylum if she took it into her head.”
303
304Mrs. Rachel would have liked to stay until Matthew came home with his
305imported orphan. But reflecting that it would be a good two hours at
306least before his arrival she concluded to go up the road to Robert
307Bell’s and tell the news. It would certainly make a sensation second
308to none, and Mrs. Rachel dearly loved to make a sensation. So she took
309herself away, somewhat to Marilla’s relief, for the latter felt
310her doubts and fears reviving under the influence of Mrs. Rachel’s
311pessimism.
312
313“Well, of all things that ever were or will be!” ejaculated Mrs. Rachel
314when she was safely out in the lane. “It does really seem as if I must
315be dreaming. Well, I’m sorry for that poor young one and no mistake.
316Matthew and Marilla don’t know anything about children and they’ll
317expect him to be wiser and steadier that his own grandfather, if so be’s
318he ever had a grandfather, which is doubtful. It seems uncanny to think
319of a child at Green Gables somehow; there’s never been one there, for
320Matthew and Marilla were grown up when the new house was built--if they
321ever _were_ children, which is hard to believe when one looks at them.
322I wouldn’t be in that orphan’s shoes for anything. My, but I pity him,
323that’s what.”
324
325So said Mrs. Rachel to the wild rose bushes out of the fulness of her
326heart; but if she could have seen the child who was waiting patiently
327at the Bright River station at that very moment her pity would have been
328still deeper and more profound.
329
330
331
332
333CHAPTER II. Matthew Cuthbert is surprised
334
335
336|MATTHEW Cuthbert and the sorrel mare jogged comfortably over the eight
337miles to Bright River. It was a pretty road, running along between
338snug farmsteads, with now and again a bit of balsamy fir wood to drive
339through or a hollow where wild plums hung out their filmy bloom. The air
340was sweet with the breath of many apple orchards and the meadows sloped
341away in the distance to horizon mists of pearl and purple; while
342
343     “The little birds sang as if it were
344     The one day of summer in all the year.”
345
346Matthew enjoyed the drive after his own fashion, except during the
347moments when he met women and had to nod to them--for in Prince Edward
348island you are supposed to nod to all and sundry you meet on the road
349whether you know them or not.
350
351Matthew dreaded all women except Marilla and Mrs. Rachel; he had an
352uncomfortable feeling that the mysterious creatures were secretly
353laughing at him. He may have been quite right in thinking so, for he
354was an odd-looking personage, with an ungainly figure and long iron-gray
355hair that touched his stooping shoulders, and a full, soft brown beard
356which he had worn ever since he was twenty. In fact, he had looked
357at twenty very much as he looked at sixty, lacking a little of the
358grayness.
359
360When he reached Bright River there was no sign of any train; he thought
361he was too early, so he tied his horse in the yard of the small Bright
362River hotel and went over to the station house. The long platform was
363almost deserted; the only living creature in sight being a girl who was
364sitting on a pile of shingles at the extreme end. Matthew, barely noting
365that it _was_ a girl, sidled past her as quickly as possible without
366looking at her. Had he looked he could hardly have failed to notice the
367tense rigidity and expectation of her attitude and expression. She was
368sitting there waiting for something or somebody and, since sitting and
369waiting was the only thing to do just then, she sat and waited with all
370her might and main.
371
372Matthew encountered the stationmaster locking up the ticket office
373preparatory to going home for supper, and asked him if the five-thirty
374train would soon be along.
375
376“The five-thirty train has been in and gone half an hour ago,” answered
377that brisk official. “But there was a passenger dropped off for you--a
378little girl. She’s sitting out there on the shingles. I asked her to
379go into the ladies’ waiting room, but she informed me gravely that she
380preferred to stay outside. ‘There was more scope for imagination,’ she
381said. She’s a case, I should say.”
382
383“I’m not expecting a girl,” said Matthew blankly. “It’s a boy I’ve come
384for. He should be here. Mrs. Alexander Spencer was to bring him over
385from Nova Scotia for me.”
386
387The stationmaster whistled.
388
389“Guess there’s some mistake,” he said. “Mrs. Spencer came off the train
390with that girl and gave her into my charge. Said you and your sister
391were adopting her from an orphan asylum and that you would be along for
392her presently. That’s all I know about it--and I haven’t got any more
393orphans concealed hereabouts.”
394
395“I don’t understand,” said Matthew helplessly, wishing that Marilla was
396at hand to cope with the situation.
397
398“Well, you’d better question the girl,” said the station-master
399carelessly. “I dare say she’ll be able to explain--she’s got a tongue
400of her own, that’s certain. Maybe they were out of boys of the brand you
401wanted.”
402
403He walked jauntily away, being hungry, and the unfortunate Matthew was
404left to do that which was harder for him than bearding a lion in its
405den--walk up to a girl--a strange girl--an orphan girl--and demand of
406her why she wasn’t a boy. Matthew groaned in spirit as he turned about
407and shuffled gently down the platform towards her.
408
409She had been watching him ever since he had passed her and she had her
410eyes on him now. Matthew was not looking at her and would not have seen
411what she was really like if he had been, but an ordinary observer would
412have seen this: A child of about eleven, garbed in a very short, very
413tight, very ugly dress of yellowish-gray wincey. She wore a faded brown
414sailor hat and beneath the hat, extending down her back, were two braids
415of very thick, decidedly red hair. Her face was small, white and thin,
416also much freckled; her mouth was large and so were her eyes, which
417looked green in some lights and moods and gray in others.
418
419So far, the ordinary observer; an extraordinary observer might have seen
420that the chin was very pointed and pronounced; that the big eyes
421were full of spirit and vivacity; that the mouth was sweet-lipped
422and expressive; that the forehead was broad and full; in short,
423our discerning extraordinary observer might have concluded that no
424commonplace soul inhabited the body of this stray woman-child of whom
425shy Matthew Cuthbert was so ludicrously afraid.
426
427Matthew, however, was spared the ordeal of speaking first, for as soon
428as she concluded that he was coming to her she stood up, grasping with
429one thin brown hand the handle of a shabby, old-fashioned carpet-bag;
430the other she held out to him.
431
432“I suppose you are Mr. Matthew Cuthbert of Green Gables?” she said in
433a peculiarly clear, sweet voice. “I’m very glad to see you. I was
434beginning to be afraid you weren’t coming for me and I was imagining
435all the things that might have happened to prevent you. I had made up
436my mind that if you didn’t come for me to-night I’d go down the track to
437that big wild cherry-tree at the bend, and climb up into it to stay all
438night. I wouldn’t be a bit afraid, and it would be lovely to sleep in a
439wild cherry-tree all white with bloom in the moonshine, don’t you think?
440You could imagine you were dwelling in marble halls, couldn’t you? And
441I was quite sure you would come for me in the morning, if you didn’t
442to-night.”
443
444Matthew had taken the scrawny little hand awkwardly in his; then and
445there he decided what to do. He could not tell this child with the
446glowing eyes that there had been a mistake; he would take her home and
447let Marilla do that. She couldn’t be left at Bright River anyhow, no
448matter what mistake had been made, so all questions and explanations
449might as well be deferred until he was safely back at Green Gables.
450
451“I’m sorry I was late,” he said shyly. “Come along. The horse is over in
452the yard. Give me your bag.”
453
454“Oh, I can carry it,” the child responded cheerfully. “It isn’t heavy.
455I’ve got all my worldly goods in it, but it isn’t heavy. And if it isn’t
456carried in just a certain way the handle pulls out--so I’d better
457keep it because I know the exact knack of it. It’s an extremely old
458carpet-bag. Oh, I’m very glad you’ve come, even if it would have been
459nice to sleep in a wild cherry-tree. We’ve got to drive a long piece,
460haven’t we? Mrs. Spencer said it was eight miles. I’m glad because I
461love driving. Oh, it seems so wonderful that I’m going to live with you
462and belong to you. I’ve never belonged to anybody--not really. But the
463asylum was the worst. I’ve only been in it four months, but that was
464enough. I don’t suppose you ever were an orphan in an asylum, so you
465can’t possibly understand what it is like. It’s worse than anything you
466could imagine. Mrs. Spencer said it was wicked of me to talk like
467that, but I didn’t mean to be wicked. It’s so easy to be wicked without
468knowing it, isn’t it? They were good, you know--the asylum people. But
469there is so little scope for the imagination in an asylum--only just
470in the other orphans. It was pretty interesting to imagine things about
471them--to imagine that perhaps the girl who sat next to you was really
472the daughter of a belted earl, who had been stolen away from her parents
473in her infancy by a cruel nurse who died before she could confess. I
474used to lie awake at nights and imagine things like that, because
475I didn’t have time in the day. I guess that’s why I’m so thin--I _am_
476dreadful thin, ain’t I? There isn’t a pick on my bones. I do love to
477imagine I’m nice and plump, with dimples in my elbows.”
478
479With this Matthew’s companion stopped talking, partly because she was
480out of breath and partly because they had reached the buggy. Not another
481word did she say until they had left the village and were driving down
482a steep little hill, the road part of which had been cut so deeply into
483the soft soil, that the banks, fringed with blooming wild cherry-trees
484and slim white birches, were several feet above their heads.
485
486The child put out her hand and broke off a branch of wild plum that
487brushed against the side of the buggy.
488
489“Isn’t that beautiful? What did that tree, leaning out from the bank,
490all white and lacy, make you think of?” she asked.
491
492“Well now, I dunno,” said Matthew.
493
494“Why, a bride, of course--a bride all in white with a lovely misty veil.
495I’ve never seen one, but I can imagine what she would look like. I don’t
496ever expect to be a bride myself. I’m so homely nobody will ever want to
497marry me--unless it might be a foreign missionary. I suppose a foreign
498missionary mightn’t be very particular. But I do hope that some day I
499shall have a white dress. That is my highest ideal of earthly bliss. I
500just love pretty clothes. And I’ve never had a pretty dress in my life
501that I can remember--but of course it’s all the more to look forward
502to, isn’t it? And then I can imagine that I’m dressed gorgeously. This
503morning when I left the asylum I felt so ashamed because I had to wear
504this horrid old wincey dress. All the orphans had to wear them, you
505know. A merchant in Hopeton last winter donated three hundred yards of
506wincey to the asylum. Some people said it was because he couldn’t sell
507it, but I’d rather believe that it was out of the kindness of his heart,
508wouldn’t you? When we got on the train I felt as if everybody must be
509looking at me and pitying me. But I just went to work and imagined that
510I had on the most beautiful pale blue silk dress--because when you _are_
511imagining you might as well imagine something worth while--and a big
512hat all flowers and nodding plumes, and a gold watch, and kid gloves and
513boots. I felt cheered up right away and I enjoyed my trip to the Island
514with all my might. I wasn’t a bit sick coming over in the boat. Neither
515was Mrs. Spencer although she generally is. She said she hadn’t time
516to get sick, watching to see that I didn’t fall overboard. She said she
517never saw the beat of me for prowling about. But if it kept her from
518being seasick it’s a mercy I did prowl, isn’t it? And I wanted to see
519everything that was to be seen on that boat, because I didn’t know
520whether I’d ever have another opportunity. Oh, there are a lot more
521cherry-trees all in bloom! This Island is the bloomiest place. I just
522love it already, and I’m so glad I’m going to live here. I’ve always
523heard that Prince Edward Island was the prettiest place in the world,
524and I used to imagine I was living here, but I never really expected I
525would. It’s delightful when your imaginations come true, isn’t it?
526But those red roads are so funny. When we got into the train at
527Charlottetown and the red roads began to flash past I asked Mrs. Spencer
528what made them red and she said she didn’t know and for pity’s sake not
529to ask her any more questions. She said I must have asked her a thousand
530already. I suppose I had, too, but how you going to find out about
531things if you don’t ask questions? And what _does_ make the roads red?”
532
533“Well now, I dunno,” said Matthew.
534
535“Well, that is one of the things to find out sometime. Isn’t it splendid
536to think of all the things there are to find out about? It just makes
537me feel glad to be alive--it’s such an interesting world. It wouldn’t be
538half so interesting if we know all about everything, would it? There’d
539be no scope for imagination then, would there? But am I talking too
540much? People are always telling me I do. Would you rather I didn’t
541talk? If you say so I’ll stop. I can _stop_ when I make up my mind to it,
542although it’s difficult.”
543
544Matthew, much to his own surprise, was enjoying himself. Like most quiet
545folks he liked talkative people when they were willing to do the talking
546themselves and did not expect him to keep up his end of it. But he had
547never expected to enjoy the society of a little girl. Women were bad
548enough in all conscience, but little girls were worse. He detested the
549way they had of sidling past him timidly, with sidewise glances, as if
550they expected him to gobble them up at a mouthful if they ventured to
551say a word. That was the Avonlea type of well-bred little girl. But
552this freckled witch was very different, and although he found it rather
553difficult for his slower intelligence to keep up with her brisk mental
554processes he thought that he “kind of liked her chatter.” So he said as
555shyly as usual:
556
557“Oh, you can talk as much as you like. I don’t mind.”
558
559“Oh, I’m so glad. I know you and I are going to get along together
560fine. It’s such a relief to talk when one wants to and not be told
561that children should be seen and not heard. I’ve had that said to me a
562million times if I have once. And people laugh at me because I use big
563words. But if you have big ideas you have to use big words to express
564them, haven’t you?”
565
566“Well now, that seems reasonable,” said Matthew.
567
568“Mrs. Spencer said that my tongue must be hung in the middle. But it
569isn’t--it’s firmly fastened at one end. Mrs. Spencer said your place was
570named Green Gables. I asked her all about it. And she said there were
571trees all around it. I was gladder than ever. I just love trees. And
572there weren’t any at all about the asylum, only a few poor weeny-teeny
573things out in front with little whitewashed cagey things about them.
574They just looked like orphans themselves, those trees did. It used to
575make me want to cry to look at them. I used to say to them, ‘Oh, you
576_poor_ little things! If you were out in a great big woods with other
577trees all around you and little mosses and June bells growing over your
578roots and a brook not far away and birds singing in you branches, you
579could grow, couldn’t you? But you can’t where you are. I know just
580exactly how you feel, little trees.’ I felt sorry to leave them behind
581this morning. You do get so attached to things like that, don’t you? Is
582there a brook anywhere near Green Gables? I forgot to ask Mrs. Spencer
583that.”
584
585“Well now, yes, there’s one right below the house.”
586
587“Fancy. It’s always been one of my dreams to live near a brook. I
588never expected I would, though. Dreams don’t often come true, do they?
589Wouldn’t it be nice if they did? But just now I feel pretty nearly
590perfectly happy. I can’t feel exactly perfectly happy because--well,
591what color would you call this?”
592
593She twitched one of her long glossy braids over her thin shoulder and
594held it up before Matthew’s eyes. Matthew was not used to deciding on
595the tints of ladies’ tresses, but in this case there couldn’t be much
596doubt.
597
598“It’s red, ain’t it?” he said.
599
600The girl let the braid drop back with a sigh that seemed to come from
601her very toes and to exhale forth all the sorrows of the ages.
602
603“Yes, it’s red,” she said resignedly. “Now you see why I can’t be
604perfectly happy. Nobody could who has red hair. I don’t mind the other
605things so much--the freckles and the green eyes and my skinniness. I
606can imagine them away. I can imagine that I have a beautiful rose-leaf
607complexion and lovely starry violet eyes. But I _cannot_ imagine that
608red hair away. I do my best. I think to myself, ‘Now my hair is a
609glorious black, black as the raven’s wing.’ But all the time I _know_ it
610is just plain red and it breaks my heart. It will be my lifelong sorrow.
611I read of a girl once in a novel who had a lifelong sorrow but it wasn’t
612red hair. Her hair was pure gold rippling back from her alabaster brow.
613What is an alabaster brow? I never could find out. Can you tell me?”
614
615“Well now, I’m afraid I can’t,” said Matthew, who was getting a little
616dizzy. He felt as he had once felt in his rash youth when another boy
617had enticed him on the merry-go-round at a picnic.
618
619“Well, whatever it was it must have been something nice because she was
620divinely beautiful. Have you ever imagined what it must feel like to be
621divinely beautiful?”
622
623“Well now, no, I haven’t,” confessed Matthew ingenuously.
624
625“I have, often. Which would you rather be if you had the
626choice--divinely beautiful or dazzlingly clever or angelically good?”
627
628“Well now, I--I don’t know exactly.”
629
630“Neither do I. I can never decide. But it doesn’t make much real
631difference for it isn’t likely I’ll ever be either. It’s certain I’ll
632never be angelically good. Mrs. Spencer says--oh, Mr. Cuthbert! Oh, Mr.
633Cuthbert!! Oh, Mr. Cuthbert!!!”
634
635That was not what Mrs. Spencer had said; neither had the child tumbled
636out of the buggy nor had Matthew done anything astonishing. They had
637simply rounded a curve in the road and found themselves in the “Avenue.”
638
639The “Avenue,” so called by the Newbridge people, was a stretch of road
640four or five hundred yards long, completely arched over with huge,
641wide-spreading apple-trees, planted years ago by an eccentric old
642farmer. Overhead was one long canopy of snowy fragrant bloom. Below the
643boughs the air was full of a purple twilight and far ahead a glimpse
644of painted sunset sky shone like a great rose window at the end of a
645cathedral aisle.
646
647Its beauty seemed to strike the child dumb. She leaned back in the
648buggy, her thin hands clasped before her, her face lifted rapturously to
649the white splendor above. Even when they had passed out and were driving
650down the long slope to Newbridge she never moved or spoke. Still with
651rapt face she gazed afar into the sunset west, with eyes that saw
652visions trooping splendidly across that glowing background. Through
653Newbridge, a bustling little village where dogs barked at them and small
654boys hooted and curious faces peered from the windows, they drove, still
655in silence. When three more miles had dropped away behind them the child
656had not spoken. She could keep silence, it was evident, as energetically
657as she could talk.
658
659“I guess you’re feeling pretty tired and hungry,” Matthew ventured to
660say at last, accounting for her long visitation of dumbness with the
661only reason he could think of. “But we haven’t very far to go now--only
662another mile.”
663
664She came out of her reverie with a deep sigh and looked at him with the
665dreamy gaze of a soul that had been wondering afar, star-led.
666
667“Oh, Mr. Cuthbert,” she whispered, “that place we came through--that
668white place--what was it?”
669
670“Well now, you must mean the Avenue,” said Matthew after a few moments’
671profound reflection. “It is a kind of pretty place.”
672
673“Pretty? Oh, _pretty_ doesn’t seem the right word to use. Nor beautiful,
674either. They don’t go far enough. Oh, it was wonderful--wonderful.
675It’s the first thing I ever saw that couldn’t be improved upon by
676imagination. It just satisfies me here”--she put one hand on her
677breast--“it made a queer funny ache and yet it was a pleasant ache. Did
678you ever have an ache like that, Mr. Cuthbert?”
679
680“Well now, I just can’t recollect that I ever had.”
681
682“I have it lots of time--whenever I see anything royally beautiful. But
683they shouldn’t call that lovely place the Avenue. There is no meaning
684in a name like that. They should call it--let me see--the White Way of
685Delight. Isn’t that a nice imaginative name? When I don’t like the name
686of a place or a person I always imagine a new one and always think of
687them so. There was a girl at the asylum whose name was Hepzibah Jenkins,
688but I always imagined her as Rosalia DeVere. Other people may call that
689place the Avenue, but I shall always call it the White Way of Delight.
690Have we really only another mile to go before we get home? I’m glad and
691I’m sorry. I’m sorry because this drive has been so pleasant and I’m
692always sorry when pleasant things end. Something still pleasanter may
693come after, but you can never be sure. And it’s so often the case that
694it isn’t pleasanter. That has been my experience anyhow. But I’m glad to
695think of getting home. You see, I’ve never had a real home since I can
696remember. It gives me that pleasant ache again just to think of coming
697to a really truly home. Oh, isn’t that pretty!”
698
699They had driven over the crest of a hill. Below them was a pond, looking
700almost like a river so long and winding was it. A bridge spanned it
701midway and from there to its lower end, where an amber-hued belt of
702sand-hills shut it in from the dark blue gulf beyond, the water was a
703glory of many shifting hues--the most spiritual shadings of crocus and
704rose and ethereal green, with other elusive tintings for which no name
705has ever been found. Above the bridge the pond ran up into fringing
706groves of fir and maple and lay all darkly translucent in their wavering
707shadows. Here and there a wild plum leaned out from the bank like a
708white-clad girl tip-toeing to her own reflection. From the marsh at the
709head of the pond came the clear, mournfully-sweet chorus of the frogs.
710There was a little gray house peering around a white apple orchard on
711a slope beyond and, although it was not yet quite dark, a light was
712shining from one of its windows.
713
714“That’s Barry’s pond,” said Matthew.
715
716“Oh, I don’t like that name, either. I shall call it--let me see--the
717Lake of Shining Waters. Yes, that is the right name for it. I know
718because of the thrill. When I hit on a name that suits exactly it gives
719me a thrill. Do things ever give you a thrill?”
720
721Matthew ruminated.
722
723“Well now, yes. It always kind of gives me a thrill to see them ugly
724white grubs that spade up in the cucumber beds. I hate the look of
725them.”
726
727“Oh, I don’t think that can be exactly the same kind of a thrill. Do you
728think it can? There doesn’t seem to be much connection between grubs
729and lakes of shining waters, does there? But why do other people call it
730Barry’s pond?”
731
732“I reckon because Mr. Barry lives up there in that house. Orchard
733Slope’s the name of his place. If it wasn’t for that big bush behind it
734you could see Green Gables from here. But we have to go over the bridge
735and round by the road, so it’s near half a mile further.”
736
737“Has Mr. Barry any little girls? Well, not so very little either--about
738my size.”
739
740“He’s got one about eleven. Her name is Diana.”
741
742“Oh!” with a long indrawing of breath. “What a perfectly lovely name!”
743
744“Well now, I dunno. There’s something dreadful heathenish about it,
745seems to me. I’d ruther Jane or Mary or some sensible name like that.
746But when Diana was born there was a schoolmaster boarding there and they
747gave him the naming of her and he called her Diana.”
748
749“I wish there had been a schoolmaster like that around when I was born,
750then. Oh, here we are at the bridge. I’m going to shut my eyes tight.
751I’m always afraid going over bridges. I can’t help imagining that
752perhaps just as we get to the middle, they’ll crumple up like a
753jack-knife and nip us. So I shut my eyes. But I always have to open them
754for all when I think we’re getting near the middle. Because, you see, if
755the bridge _did_ crumple up I’d want to _see_ it crumple. What a jolly
756rumble it makes! I always like the rumble part of it. Isn’t it splendid
757there are so many things to like in this world? There we’re over. Now
758I’ll look back. Good night, dear Lake of Shining Waters. I always say
759good night to the things I love, just as I would to people. I think they
760like it. That water looks as if it was smiling at me.”
761
762When they had driven up the further hill and around a corner Matthew
763said:
764
765“We’re pretty near home now. That’s Green Gables over--”
766
767“Oh, don’t tell me,” she interrupted breathlessly, catching at his
768partially raised arm and shutting her eyes that she might not see his
769gesture. “Let me guess. I’m sure I’ll guess right.”
770
771She opened her eyes and looked about her. They were on the crest of a
772hill. The sun had set some time since, but the landscape was still
773clear in the mellow afterlight. To the west a dark church spire rose
774up against a marigold sky. Below was a little valley and beyond a long,
775gently-rising slope with snug farmsteads scattered along it. From one
776to another the child’s eyes darted, eager and wistful. At last they
777lingered on one away to the left, far back from the road, dimly white
778with blossoming trees in the twilight of the surrounding woods. Over it,
779in the stainless southwest sky, a great crystal-white star was shining
780like a lamp of guidance and promise.
781
782“That’s it, isn’t it?” she said, pointing.
783
784Matthew slapped the reins on the sorrel’s back delightedly.
785
786“Well now, you’ve guessed it! But I reckon Mrs. Spencer described it
787so’s you could tell.”
788
789“No, she didn’t--really she didn’t. All she said might just as well have
790been about most of those other places. I hadn’t any real idea what it
791looked like. But just as soon as I saw it I felt it was home. Oh, it
792seems as if I must be in a dream. Do you know, my arm must be black and
793blue from the elbow up, for I’ve pinched myself so many times today.
794Every little while a horrible sickening feeling would come over me and
795I’d be so afraid it was all a dream. Then I’d pinch myself to see if it
796was real--until suddenly I remembered that even supposing it was only
797a dream I’d better go on dreaming as long as I could; so I stopped
798pinching. But it _is_ real and we’re nearly home.”
799
800With a sigh of rapture she relapsed into silence. Matthew stirred
801uneasily. He felt glad that it would be Marilla and not he who would
802have to tell this waif of the world that the home she longed for was
803not to be hers after all. They drove over Lynde’s Hollow, where it was
804already quite dark, but not so dark that Mrs. Rachel could not see them
805from her window vantage, and up the hill and into the long lane of Green
806Gables. By the time they arrived at the house Matthew was shrinking from
807the approaching revelation with an energy he did not understand. It was
808not of Marilla or himself he was thinking of the trouble this mistake
809was probably going to make for them, but of the child’s disappointment.
810When he thought of that rapt light being quenched in her eyes he had
811an uncomfortable feeling that he was going to assist at murdering
812something--much the same feeling that came over him when he had to kill
813a lamb or calf or any other innocent little creature.
814
815The yard was quite dark as they turned into it and the poplar leaves
816were rustling silkily all round it.
817
818“Listen to the trees talking in their sleep,” she whispered, as he
819lifted her to the ground. “What nice dreams they must have!”
820
821Then, holding tightly to the carpet-bag which contained “all her worldly
822goods,” she followed him into the house.
823
824
825
826
827CHAPTER III. Marilla Cuthbert is Surprised
828
829
830|MARILLA came briskly forward as Matthew opened the door. But when her
831eyes fell on the odd little figure in the stiff, ugly dress, with the
832long braids of red hair and the eager, luminous eyes, she stopped short
833in amazement.
834
835“Matthew Cuthbert, who’s that?” she ejaculated. “Where is the boy?”
836
837“There wasn’t any boy,” said Matthew wretchedly. “There was only _her_.”
838
839He nodded at the child, remembering that he had never even asked her
840name.
841
842“No boy! But there _must_ have been a boy,” insisted Marilla. “We sent
843word to Mrs. Spencer to bring a boy.”
844
845“Well, she didn’t. She brought _her_. I asked the station-master. And I
846had to bring her home. She couldn’t be left there, no matter where the
847mistake had come in.”
848
849“Well, this is a pretty piece of business!” ejaculated Marilla.
850
851During this dialogue the child had remained silent, her eyes roving from
852one to the other, all the animation fading out of her face. Suddenly
853she seemed to grasp the full meaning of what had been said. Dropping her
854precious carpet-bag she sprang forward a step and clasped her hands.
855
856“You don’t want me!” she cried. “You don’t want me because I’m not a
857boy! I might have expected it. Nobody ever did want me. I might have
858known it was all too beautiful to last. I might have known nobody really
859did want me. Oh, what shall I do? I’m going to burst into tears!”
860
861Burst into tears she did. Sitting down on a chair by the table, flinging
862her arms out upon it, and burying her face in them, she proceeded to cry
863stormily. Marilla and Matthew looked at each other deprecatingly across
864the stove. Neither of them knew what to say or do. Finally Marilla
865stepped lamely into the breach.
866
867“Well, well, there’s no need to cry so about it.”
868
869“Yes, there _is_ need!” The child raised her head quickly, revealing a
870tear-stained face and trembling lips. “_You_ would cry, too, if you were
871an orphan and had come to a place you thought was going to be home and
872found that they didn’t want you because you weren’t a boy. Oh, this is
873the most _tragical_ thing that ever happened to me!”
874
875Something like a reluctant smile, rather rusty from long disuse,
876mellowed Marilla’s grim expression.
877
878“Well, don’t cry any more. We’re not going to turn you out-of-doors
879to-night. You’ll have to stay here until we investigate this affair.
880What’s your name?”
881
882The child hesitated for a moment.
883
884“Will you please call me Cordelia?” she said eagerly.
885
886“_Call_ you Cordelia? Is that your name?”
887
888“No-o-o, it’s not exactly my name, but I would love to be called
889Cordelia. It’s such a perfectly elegant name.”
890
891“I don’t know what on earth you mean. If Cordelia isn’t your name, what
892is?”
893
894“Anne Shirley,” reluctantly faltered forth the owner of that name, “but,
895oh, please do call me Cordelia. It can’t matter much to you what you
896call me if I’m only going to be here a little while, can it? And Anne is
897such an unromantic name.”
898
899“Unromantic fiddlesticks!” said the unsympathetic Marilla. “Anne is a
900real good plain sensible name. You’ve no need to be ashamed of it.”
901
902“Oh, I’m not ashamed of it,” explained Anne, “only I like Cordelia
903better. I’ve always imagined that my name was Cordelia--at least, I
904always have of late years. When I was young I used to imagine it was
905Geraldine, but I like Cordelia better now. But if you call me Anne
906please call me Anne spelled with an E.”
907
908“What difference does it make how it’s spelled?” asked Marilla with
909another rusty smile as she picked up the teapot.
910
911“Oh, it makes _such_ a difference. It _looks_ so much nicer. When you hear
912a name pronounced can’t you always see it in your mind, just as if it
913was printed out? I can; and A-n-n looks dreadful, but A-n-n-e looks so
914much more distinguished. If you’ll only call me Anne spelled with an E I
915shall try to reconcile myself to not being called Cordelia.”
916
917“Very well, then, Anne spelled with an E, can you tell us how this
918mistake came to be made? We sent word to Mrs. Spencer to bring us a boy.
919Were there no boys at the asylum?”
920
921“Oh, yes, there was an abundance of them. But Mrs. Spencer said
922_distinctly_ that you wanted a girl about eleven years old. And the
923matron said she thought I would do. You don’t know how delighted I was.
924I couldn’t sleep all last night for joy. Oh,” she added reproachfully,
925turning to Matthew, “why didn’t you tell me at the station that you
926didn’t want me and leave me there? If I hadn’t seen the White Way of
927Delight and the Lake of Shining Waters it wouldn’t be so hard.”
928
929“What on earth does she mean?” demanded Marilla, staring at Matthew.
930
931“She--she’s just referring to some conversation we had on the road,”
932 said Matthew hastily. “I’m going out to put the mare in, Marilla. Have
933tea ready when I come back.”
934
935“Did Mrs. Spencer bring anybody over besides you?” continued Marilla
936when Matthew had gone out.
937
938“She brought Lily Jones for herself. Lily is only five years old and she
939is very beautiful and had nut-brown hair. If I was very beautiful and
940had nut-brown hair would you keep me?”
941
942“No. We want a boy to help Matthew on the farm. A girl would be of
943no use to us. Take off your hat. I’ll lay it and your bag on the hall
944table.”
945
946Anne took off her hat meekly. Matthew came back presently and they sat
947down to supper. But Anne could not eat. In vain she nibbled at the
948bread and butter and pecked at the crab-apple preserve out of the little
949scalloped glass dish by her plate. She did not really make any headway
950at all.
951
952“You’re not eating anything,” said Marilla sharply, eying her as if it
953were a serious shortcoming. Anne sighed.
954
955“I can’t. I’m in the depths of despair. Can you eat when you are in the
956depths of despair?”
957
958“I’ve never been in the depths of despair, so I can’t say,” responded
959Marilla.
960
961“Weren’t you? Well, did you ever try to _imagine_ you were in the depths
962of despair?”
963
964“No, I didn’t.”
965
966“Then I don’t think you can understand what it’s like. It’s a very
967uncomfortable feeling indeed. When you try to eat a lump comes right
968up in your throat and you can’t swallow anything, not even if it was a
969chocolate caramel. I had one chocolate caramel once two years ago and it
970was simply delicious. I’ve often dreamed since then that I had a lot
971of chocolate caramels, but I always wake up just when I’m going to eat
972them. I do hope you won’t be offended because I can’t eat. Everything is
973extremely nice, but still I cannot eat.”
974
975“I guess she’s tired,” said Matthew, who hadn’t spoken since his return
976from the barn. “Best put her to bed, Marilla.”
977
978Marilla had been wondering where Anne should be put to bed. She had
979prepared a couch in the kitchen chamber for the desired and expected
980boy. But, although it was neat and clean, it did not seem quite the
981thing to put a girl there somehow. But the spare room was out of the
982question for such a stray waif, so there remained only the east gable
983room. Marilla lighted a candle and told Anne to follow her, which Anne
984spiritlessly did, taking her hat and carpet-bag from the hall table as
985she passed. The hall was fearsomely clean; the little gable chamber in
986which she presently found herself seemed still cleaner.
987
988Marilla set the candle on a three-legged, three-cornered table and
989turned down the bedclothes.
990
991“I suppose you have a nightgown?” she questioned.
992
993Anne nodded.
994
995“Yes, I have two. The matron of the asylum made them for me. They’re
996fearfully skimpy. There is never enough to go around in an asylum, so
997things are always skimpy--at least in a poor asylum like ours. I hate
998skimpy night-dresses. But one can dream just as well in them as
999in lovely trailing ones, with frills around the neck, that’s one
1000consolation.”
1001
1002“Well, undress as quick as you can and go to bed. I’ll come back in a
1003few minutes for the candle. I daren’t trust you to put it out yourself.
1004You’d likely set the place on fire.”
1005
1006When Marilla had gone Anne looked around her wistfully. The whitewashed
1007walls were so painfully bare and staring that she thought they must ache
1008over their own bareness. The floor was bare, too, except for a round
1009braided mat in the middle such as Anne had never seen before. In
1010one corner was the bed, a high, old-fashioned one, with four dark,
1011low-turned posts. In the other corner was the aforesaid three-corner
1012table adorned with a fat, red velvet pin-cushion hard enough to turn the
1013point of the most adventurous pin. Above it hung a little six-by-eight
1014mirror. Midway between table and bed was the window, with an icy white
1015muslin frill over it, and opposite it was the wash-stand. The whole
1016apartment was of a rigidity not to be described in words, but which
1017sent a shiver to the very marrow of Anne’s bones. With a sob she hastily
1018discarded her garments, put on the skimpy nightgown and sprang into bed
1019where she burrowed face downward into the pillow and pulled the clothes
1020over her head. When Marilla came up for the light various skimpy
1021articles of raiment scattered most untidily over the floor and a certain
1022tempestuous appearance of the bed were the only indications of any
1023presence save her own.
1024
1025She deliberately picked up Anne’s clothes, placed them neatly on a prim
1026yellow chair, and then, taking up the candle, went over to the bed.
1027
1028“Good night,” she said, a little awkwardly, but not unkindly.
1029
1030Anne’s white face and big eyes appeared over the bedclothes with a
1031startling suddenness.
1032
1033“How can you call it a _good_ night when you know it must be the very
1034worst night I’ve ever had?” she said reproachfully.
1035
1036Then she dived down into invisibility again.
1037
1038Marilla went slowly down to the kitchen and proceeded to wash the supper
1039dishes. Matthew was smoking--a sure sign of perturbation of mind. He
1040seldom smoked, for Marilla set her face against it as a filthy habit;
1041but at certain times and seasons he felt driven to it and them Marilla
1042winked at the practice, realizing that a mere man must have some vent
1043for his emotions.
1044
1045“Well, this is a pretty kettle of fish,” she said wrathfully. “This is
1046what comes of sending word instead of going ourselves. Richard Spencer’s
1047folks have twisted that message somehow. One of us will have to drive
1048over and see Mrs. Spencer tomorrow, that’s certain. This girl will have
1049to be sent back to the asylum.”
1050
1051“Yes, I suppose so,” said Matthew reluctantly.
1052
1053“You _suppose_ so! Don’t you know it?”
1054
1055“Well now, she’s a real nice little thing, Marilla. It’s kind of a pity
1056to send her back when she’s so set on staying here.”
1057
1058“Matthew Cuthbert, you don’t mean to say you think we ought to keep
1059her!”
1060
1061Marilla’s astonishment could not have been greater if Matthew had
1062expressed a predilection for standing on his head.
1063
1064“Well, now, no, I suppose not--not exactly,” stammered Matthew,
1065uncomfortably driven into a corner for his precise meaning. “I
1066suppose--we could hardly be expected to keep her.”
1067
1068“I should say not. What good would she be to us?”
1069
1070“We might be some good to her,” said Matthew suddenly and unexpectedly.
1071
1072“Matthew Cuthbert, I believe that child has bewitched you! I can see as
1073plain as plain that you want to keep her.”
1074
1075“Well now, she’s a real interesting little thing,” persisted Matthew.
1076“You should have heard her talk coming from the station.”
1077
1078“Oh, she can talk fast enough. I saw that at once. It’s nothing in her
1079favour, either. I don’t like children who have so much to say. I don’t
1080want an orphan girl and if I did she isn’t the style I’d pick out.
1081There’s something I don’t understand about her. No, she’s got to be
1082despatched straight-way back to where she came from.”
1083
1084“I could hire a French boy to help me,” said Matthew, “and she’d be
1085company for you.”
1086
1087“I’m not suffering for company,” said Marilla shortly. “And I’m not
1088going to keep her.”
1089
1090“Well now, it’s just as you say, of course, Marilla,” said Matthew
1091rising and putting his pipe away. “I’m going to bed.”
1092
1093To bed went Matthew. And to bed, when she had put her dishes away, went
1094Marilla, frowning most resolutely. And up-stairs, in the east gable, a
1095lonely, heart-hungry, friendless child cried herself to sleep.
1096
1097
1098
1099
1100CHAPTER IV. Morning at Green Gables
1101
1102
1103|IT was broad daylight when Anne awoke and sat up in bed, staring
1104confusedly at the window through which a flood of cheery sunshine was
1105pouring and outside of which something white and feathery waved across
1106glimpses of blue sky.
1107
1108For a moment she could not remember where she was. First came a
1109delightful thrill, as something very pleasant; then a horrible
1110remembrance. This was Green Gables and they didn’t want her because she
1111wasn’t a boy!
1112
1113But it was morning and, yes, it was a cherry-tree in full bloom outside
1114of her window. With a bound she was out of bed and across the floor.
1115She pushed up the sash--it went up stiffly and creakily, as if it hadn’t
1116been opened for a long time, which was the case; and it stuck so tight
1117that nothing was needed to hold it up.
1118
1119Anne dropped on her knees and gazed out into the June morning, her eyes
1120glistening with delight. Oh, wasn’t it beautiful? Wasn’t it a lovely
1121place? Suppose she wasn’t really going to stay here! She would imagine
1122she was. There was scope for imagination here.
1123
1124A huge cherry-tree grew outside, so close that its boughs tapped against
1125the house, and it was so thick-set with blossoms that hardly a leaf
1126was to be seen. On both sides of the house was a big orchard, one of
1127apple-trees and one of cherry-trees, also showered over with blossoms;
1128and their grass was all sprinkled with dandelions. In the garden below
1129were lilac-trees purple with flowers, and their dizzily sweet fragrance
1130drifted up to the window on the morning wind.
1131
1132Below the garden a green field lush with clover sloped down to the
1133hollow where the brook ran and where scores of white birches grew,
1134upspringing airily out of an undergrowth suggestive of delightful
1135possibilities in ferns and mosses and woodsy things generally. Beyond it
1136was a hill, green and feathery with spruce and fir; there was a gap in
1137it where the gray gable end of the little house she had seen from the
1138other side of the Lake of Shining Waters was visible.
1139
1140Off to the left were the big barns and beyond them, away down over
1141green, low-sloping fields, was a sparkling blue glimpse of sea.
1142
1143Anne’s beauty-loving eyes lingered on it all, taking everything greedily
1144in. She had looked on so many unlovely places in her life, poor child;
1145but this was as lovely as anything she had ever dreamed.
1146
1147She knelt there, lost to everything but the loveliness around her, until
1148she was startled by a hand on her shoulder. Marilla had come in unheard
1149by the small dreamer.
1150
1151“It’s time you were dressed,” she said curtly.
1152
1153Marilla really did not know how to talk to the child, and her
1154uncomfortable ignorance made her crisp and curt when she did not mean to
1155be.
1156
1157Anne stood up and drew a long breath.
1158
1159“Oh, isn’t it wonderful?” she said, waving her hand comprehensively at
1160the good world outside.
1161
1162“It’s a big tree,” said Marilla, “and it blooms great, but the fruit
1163don’t amount to much never--small and wormy.”
1164
1165“Oh, I don’t mean just the tree; of course it’s lovely--yes, it’s
1166_radiantly_ lovely--it blooms as if it meant it--but I meant everything,
1167the garden and the orchard and the brook and the woods, the whole big
1168dear world. Don’t you feel as if you just loved the world on a morning
1169like this? And I can hear the brook laughing all the way up here.
1170Have you ever noticed what cheerful things brooks are? They’re always
1171laughing. Even in winter-time I’ve heard them under the ice. I’m so glad
1172there’s a brook near Green Gables. Perhaps you think it doesn’t make any
1173difference to me when you’re not going to keep me, but it does. I shall
1174always like to remember that there is a brook at Green Gables even if
1175I never see it again. If there wasn’t a brook I’d be _haunted_ by the
1176uncomfortable feeling that there ought to be one. I’m not in the depths
1177of despair this morning. I never can be in the morning. Isn’t it a
1178splendid thing that there are mornings? But I feel very sad. I’ve just
1179been imagining that it was really me you wanted after all and that I was
1180to stay here for ever and ever. It was a great comfort while it lasted.
1181But the worst of imagining things is that the time comes when you have
1182to stop and that hurts.”
1183
1184“You’d better get dressed and come down-stairs and never mind your
1185imaginings,” said Marilla as soon as she could get a word in edgewise.
1186“Breakfast is waiting. Wash your face and comb your hair. Leave the
1187window up and turn your bedclothes back over the foot of the bed. Be as
1188smart as you can.”
1189
1190Anne could evidently be smart to some purpose for she was down-stairs
1191in ten minutes’ time, with her clothes neatly on, her hair brushed and
1192braided, her face washed, and a comfortable consciousness pervading her
1193soul that she had fulfilled all Marilla’s requirements. As a matter of
1194fact, however, she had forgotten to turn back the bedclothes.
1195
1196“I’m pretty hungry this morning,” she announced as she slipped into the
1197chair Marilla placed for her. “The world doesn’t seem such a howling
1198wilderness as it did last night. I’m so glad it’s a sunshiny morning.
1199But I like rainy mornings real well, too. All sorts of mornings are
1200interesting, don’t you think? You don’t know what’s going to happen
1201through the day, and there’s so much scope for imagination. But I’m
1202glad it’s not rainy today because it’s easier to be cheerful and bear
1203up under affliction on a sunshiny day. I feel that I have a good deal
1204to bear up under. It’s all very well to read about sorrows and imagine
1205yourself living through them heroically, but it’s not so nice when you
1206really come to have them, is it?”
1207
1208“For pity’s sake hold your tongue,” said Marilla. “You talk entirely too
1209much for a little girl.”
1210
1211Thereupon Anne held her tongue so obediently and thoroughly that her
1212continued silence made Marilla rather nervous, as if in the presence of
1213something not exactly natural. Matthew also held his tongue,--but this
1214was natural,--so that the meal was a very silent one.
1215
1216As it progressed Anne became more and more abstracted, eating
1217mechanically, with her big eyes fixed unswervingly and unseeingly on the
1218sky outside the window. This made Marilla more nervous than ever; she
1219had an uncomfortable feeling that while this odd child’s body might
1220be there at the table her spirit was far away in some remote airy
1221cloudland, borne aloft on the wings of imagination. Who would want such
1222a child about the place?
1223
1224Yet Matthew wished to keep her, of all unaccountable things! Marilla
1225felt that he wanted it just as much this morning as he had the night
1226before, and that he would go on wanting it. That was Matthew’s way--take
1227a whim into his head and cling to it with the most amazing silent
1228persistency--a persistency ten times more potent and effectual in its
1229very silence than if he had talked it out.
1230
1231When the meal was ended Anne came out of her reverie and offered to wash
1232the dishes.
1233
1234“Can you wash dishes right?” asked Marilla distrustfully.
1235
1236“Pretty well. I’m better at looking after children, though. I’ve had so
1237much experience at that. It’s such a pity you haven’t any here for me to
1238look after.”
1239
1240“I don’t feel as if I wanted any more children to look after than I’ve
1241got at present. _You’re_ problem enough in all conscience. What’s to be
1242done with you I don’t know. Matthew is a most ridiculous man.”
1243
1244“I think he’s lovely,” said Anne reproachfully. “He is so very
1245sympathetic. He didn’t mind how much I talked--he seemed to like it. I
1246felt that he was a kindred spirit as soon as ever I saw him.”
1247
1248“You’re both queer enough, if that’s what you mean by kindred spirits,”
1249 said Marilla with a sniff. “Yes, you may wash the dishes. Take plenty of
1250hot water, and be sure you dry them well. I’ve got enough to attend to
1251this morning for I’ll have to drive over to White Sands in the afternoon
1252and see Mrs. Spencer. You’ll come with me and we’ll settle what’s to be
1253done with you. After you’ve finished the dishes go up-stairs and make
1254your bed.”
1255
1256Anne washed the dishes deftly enough, as Marilla who kept a sharp eye on
1257the process, discerned. Later on she made her bed less successfully, for
1258she had never learned the art of wrestling with a feather tick. But is
1259was done somehow and smoothed down; and then Marilla, to get rid of her,
1260told her she might go out-of-doors and amuse herself until dinner time.
1261
1262Anne flew to the door, face alight, eyes glowing. On the very threshold
1263she stopped short, wheeled about, came back and sat down by the table,
1264light and glow as effectually blotted out as if some one had clapped an
1265extinguisher on her.
1266
1267“What’s the matter now?” demanded Marilla.
1268
1269“I don’t dare go out,” said Anne, in the tone of a martyr relinquishing
1270all earthly joys. “If I can’t stay here there is no use in my loving
1271Green Gables. And if I go out there and get acquainted with all those
1272trees and flowers and the orchard and the brook I’ll not be able to help
1273loving it. It’s hard enough now, so I won’t make it any harder. I want
1274to go out so much--everything seems to be calling to me, ‘Anne, Anne,
1275come out to us. Anne, Anne, we want a playmate’--but it’s better not.
1276There is no use in loving things if you have to be torn from them, is
1277there? And it’s so hard to keep from loving things, isn’t it? That was
1278why I was so glad when I thought I was going to live here. I thought
1279I’d have so many things to love and nothing to hinder me. But that brief
1280dream is over. I am resigned to my fate now, so I don’t think I’ll
1281go out for fear I’ll get unresigned again. What is the name of that
1282geranium on the window-sill, please?”
1283
1284“That’s the apple-scented geranium.”
1285
1286“Oh, I don’t mean that sort of a name. I mean just a name you gave it
1287yourself. Didn’t you give it a name? May I give it one then? May I call
1288it--let me see--Bonny would do--may I call it Bonny while I’m here? Oh,
1289do let me!”
1290
1291“Goodness, I don’t care. But where on earth is the sense of naming a
1292geranium?”
1293
1294“Oh, I like things to have handles even if they are only geraniums. It
1295makes them seem more like people. How do you know but that it hurts a
1296geranium’s feelings just to be called a geranium and nothing else? You
1297wouldn’t like to be called nothing but a woman all the time. Yes, I
1298shall call it Bonny. I named that cherry-tree outside my bedroom window
1299this morning. I called it Snow Queen because it was so white. Of course,
1300it won’t always be in blossom, but one can imagine that it is, can’t
1301one?”
1302
1303“I never in all my life saw or heard anything to equal her,” muttered
1304Marilla, beating a retreat down to the cellar after potatoes. “She
1305is kind of interesting as Matthew says. I can feel already that I’m
1306wondering what on earth she’ll say next. She’ll be casting a spell over
1307me, too. She’s cast it over Matthew. That look he gave me when he went
1308out said everything he said or hinted last night over again. I wish he
1309was like other men and would talk things out. A body could answer back
1310then and argue him into reason. But what’s to be done with a man who
1311just _looks?_”
1312
1313Anne had relapsed into reverie, with her chin in her hands and her eyes
1314on the sky, when Marilla returned from her cellar pilgrimage. There
1315Marilla left her until the early dinner was on the table.
1316
1317“I suppose I can have the mare and buggy this afternoon, Matthew?” said
1318Marilla.
1319
1320Matthew nodded and looked wistfully at Anne. Marilla intercepted the
1321look and said grimly:
1322
1323“I’m going to drive over to White Sands and settle this thing. I’ll take
1324Anne with me and Mrs. Spencer will probably make arrangements to send
1325her back to Nova Scotia at once. I’ll set your tea out for you and I’ll
1326be home in time to milk the cows.”
1327
1328Still Matthew said nothing and Marilla had a sense of having wasted
1329words and breath. There is nothing more aggravating than a man who won’t
1330talk back--unless it is a woman who won’t.
1331
1332Matthew hitched the sorrel into the buggy in due time and Marilla and
1333Anne set off. Matthew opened the yard gate for them and as they drove
1334slowly through, he said, to nobody in particular as it seemed:
1335
1336“Little Jerry Buote from the Creek was here this morning, and I told him
1337I guessed I’d hire him for the summer.”
1338
1339Marilla made no reply, but she hit the unlucky sorrel such a vicious
1340clip with the whip that the fat mare, unused to such treatment, whizzed
1341indignantly down the lane at an alarming pace. Marilla looked back once
1342as the buggy bounced along and saw that aggravating Matthew leaning over
1343the gate, looking wistfully after them.
1344
1345
1346
1347
1348CHAPTER V. Anne’s History
1349
1350
1351|DO you know,” said Anne confidentially, “I’ve made up my mind to enjoy
1352this drive. It’s been my experience that you can nearly always enjoy
1353things if you make up your mind firmly that you will. Of course, you
1354must make it up _firmly_. I am not going to think about going back to
1355the asylum while we’re having our drive. I’m just going to think about
1356the drive. Oh, look, there’s one little early wild rose out! Isn’t it
1357lovely? Don’t you think it must be glad to be a rose? Wouldn’t it be
1358nice if roses could talk? I’m sure they could tell us such lovely
1359things. And isn’t pink the most bewitching color in the world? I love
1360it, but I can’t wear it. Redheaded people can’t wear pink, not even in
1361imagination. Did you ever know of anybody whose hair was red when she
1362was young, but got to be another color when she grew up?”
1363
1364“No, I don’t know as I ever did,” said Marilla mercilessly, “and I
1365shouldn’t think it likely to happen in your case either.”
1366
1367Anne sighed.
1368
1369“Well, that is another hope gone. ‘My life is a perfect graveyard of
1370buried hopes.’ That’s a sentence I read in a book once, and I say it
1371over to comfort myself whenever I’m disappointed in anything.”
1372
1373“I don’t see where the comforting comes in myself,” said Marilla.
1374
1375“Why, because it sounds so nice and romantic, just as if I were a
1376heroine in a book, you know. I am so fond of romantic things, and a
1377graveyard full of buried hopes is about as romantic a thing as one can
1378imagine isn’t it? I’m rather glad I have one. Are we going across the
1379Lake of Shining Waters today?”
1380
1381“We’re not going over Barry’s pond, if that’s what you mean by your Lake
1382of Shining Waters. We’re going by the shore road.”
1383
1384“Shore road sounds nice,” said Anne dreamily. “Is it as nice as it
1385sounds? Just when you said ‘shore road’ I saw it in a picture in my
1386mind, as quick as that! And White Sands is a pretty name, too; but I
1387don’t like it as well as Avonlea. Avonlea is a lovely name. It just
1388sounds like music. How far is it to White Sands?”
1389
1390“It’s five miles; and as you’re evidently bent on talking you might as
1391well talk to some purpose by telling me what you know about yourself.”
1392
1393“Oh, what I _know_ about myself isn’t really worth telling,” said Anne
1394eagerly. “If you’ll only let me tell you what I _imagine_ about myself
1395you’ll think it ever so much more interesting.”
1396
1397“No, I don’t want any of your imaginings. Just you stick to bald facts.
1398Begin at the beginning. Where were you born and how old are you?”
1399
1400“I was eleven last March,” said Anne, resigning herself to bald facts
1401with a little sigh. “And I was born in Bolingbroke, Nova Scotia.
1402My father’s name was Walter Shirley, and he was a teacher in the
1403Bolingbroke High School. My mother’s name was Bertha Shirley. Aren’t
1404Walter and Bertha lovely names? I’m so glad my parents had nice names.
1405It would be a real disgrace to have a father named--well, say Jedediah,
1406wouldn’t it?”
1407
1408“I guess it doesn’t matter what a person’s name is as long as he behaves
1409himself,” said Marilla, feeling herself called upon to inculcate a good
1410and useful moral.
1411
1412“Well, I don’t know.” Anne looked thoughtful. “I read in a book once
1413that a rose by any other name would smell as sweet, but I’ve never been
1414able to believe it. I don’t believe a rose _would_ be as nice if it was
1415called a thistle or a skunk cabbage. I suppose my father could have been
1416a good man even if he had been called Jedediah; but I’m sure it would
1417have been a cross. Well, my mother was a teacher in the High school,
1418too, but when she married father she gave up teaching, of course. A
1419husband was enough responsibility. Mrs. Thomas said that they were
1420a pair of babies and as poor as church mice. They went to live in a
1421weeny-teeny little yellow house in Bolingbroke. I’ve never seen that
1422house, but I’ve imagined it thousands of times. I think it must have
1423had honeysuckle over the parlor window and lilacs in the front yard and
1424lilies of the valley just inside the gate. Yes, and muslin curtains in
1425all the windows. Muslin curtains give a house such an air. I was born
1426in that house. Mrs. Thomas said I was the homeliest baby she ever saw, I
1427was so scrawny and tiny and nothing but eyes, but that mother thought I
1428was perfectly beautiful. I should think a mother would be a better judge
1429than a poor woman who came in to scrub, wouldn’t you? I’m glad she
1430was satisfied with me anyhow, I would feel so sad if I thought I was a
1431disappointment to her--because she didn’t live very long after that, you
1432see. She died of fever when I was just three months old. I do wish she’d
1433lived long enough for me to remember calling her mother. I think it
1434would be so sweet to say ‘mother,’ don’t you? And father died four days
1435afterwards from fever too. That left me an orphan and folks were at
1436their wits’ end, so Mrs. Thomas said, what to do with me. You see,
1437nobody wanted me even then. It seems to be my fate. Father and mother
1438had both come from places far away and it was well known they hadn’t any
1439relatives living. Finally Mrs. Thomas said she’d take me, though she was
1440poor and had a drunken husband. She brought me up by hand. Do you know
1441if there is anything in being brought up by hand that ought to make
1442people who are brought up that way better than other people? Because
1443whenever I was naughty Mrs. Thomas would ask me how I could be such a
1444bad girl when she had brought me up by hand--reproachful-like.
1445
1446“Mr. and Mrs. Thomas moved away from Bolingbroke to Marysville, and I
1447lived with them until I was eight years old. I helped look after the
1448Thomas children--there were four of them younger than me--and I can tell
1449you they took a lot of looking after. Then Mr. Thomas was killed
1450falling under a train and his mother offered to take Mrs. Thomas and the
1451children, but she didn’t want me. Mrs. Thomas was at _her_ wits’ end, so
1452she said, what to do with me. Then Mrs. Hammond from up the river came
1453down and said she’d take me, seeing I was handy with children, and
1454I went up the river to live with her in a little clearing among the
1455stumps. It was a very lonesome place. I’m sure I could never have
1456lived there if I hadn’t had an imagination. Mr. Hammond worked a little
1457sawmill up there, and Mrs. Hammond had eight children. She had twins
1458three times. I like babies in moderation, but twins three times in
1459succession is _too much_. I told Mrs. Hammond so firmly, when the last
1460pair came. I used to get so dreadfully tired carrying them about.
1461
1462“I lived up river with Mrs. Hammond over two years, and then Mr. Hammond
1463died and Mrs. Hammond broke up housekeeping. She divided her children
1464among her relatives and went to the States. I had to go to the asylum
1465at Hopeton, because nobody would take me. They didn’t want me at the
1466asylum, either; they said they were over-crowded as it was. But they had
1467to take me and I was there four months until Mrs. Spencer came.”
1468
1469Anne finished up with another sigh, of relief this time. Evidently
1470she did not like talking about her experiences in a world that had not
1471wanted her.
1472
1473“Did you ever go to school?” demanded Marilla, turning the sorrel mare
1474down the shore road.
1475
1476“Not a great deal. I went a little the last year I stayed with Mrs.
1477Thomas. When I went up river we were so far from a school that I
1478couldn’t walk it in winter and there was a vacation in summer, so I
1479could only go in the spring and fall. But of course I went while I was
1480at the asylum. I can read pretty well and I know ever so many pieces of
1481poetry off by heart--‘The Battle of Hohenlinden’ and ‘Edinburgh after
1482Flodden,’ and ‘Bingen of the Rhine,’ and most of the ‘Lady of the Lake’
1483and most of ‘The Seasons’ by James Thompson. Don’t you just love poetry
1484that gives you a crinkly feeling up and down your back? There is a piece
1485in the Fifth Reader--‘The Downfall of Poland’--that is just full of
1486thrills. Of course, I wasn’t in the Fifth Reader--I was only in the
1487Fourth--but the big girls used to lend me theirs to read.”
1488
1489“Were those women--Mrs. Thomas and Mrs. Hammond--good to you?” asked
1490Marilla, looking at Anne out of the corner of her eye.
1491
1492“O-o-o-h,” faltered Anne. Her sensitive little face suddenly flushed
1493scarlet and embarrassment sat on her brow. “Oh, they _meant_ to be--I know
1494they meant to be just as good and kind as possible. And when people
1495mean to be good to you, you don’t mind very much when they’re not
1496quite--always. They had a good deal to worry them, you know. It’s  a very
1497trying to have a drunken husband, you see; and it must be very trying to
1498have twins three times in succession, don’t you think? But I feel sure
1499they meant to be good to me.”
1500
1501Marilla asked no more questions. Anne gave herself up to a silent
1502rapture over the shore road and Marilla guided the sorrel abstractedly
1503while she pondered deeply. Pity was suddenly stirring in her heart for
1504the child. What a starved, unloved life she had had--a life of drudgery
1505and poverty and neglect; for Marilla was shrewd enough to read between
1506the lines of Anne’s history and divine the truth. No wonder she had been
1507so delighted at the prospect of a real home. It was a pity she had to be
1508sent back. What if she, Marilla, should indulge Matthew’s unaccountable
1509whim and let her stay? He was set on it; and the child seemed a nice,
1510teachable little thing.
1511
1512“She’s got too much to say,” thought Marilla, “but she might be trained
1513out of that. And there’s nothing rude or slangy in what she does say.
1514She’s ladylike. It’s likely her people were nice folks.”
1515
1516The shore road was “woodsy and wild and lonesome.” On the right hand,
1517scrub firs, their spirits quite unbroken by long years of tussle with
1518the gulf winds, grew thickly. On the left were the steep red sandstone
1519cliffs, so near the track in places that a mare of less steadiness than
1520the sorrel might have tried the nerves of the people behind her. Down
1521at the base of the cliffs were heaps of surf-worn rocks or little sandy
1522coves inlaid with pebbles as with ocean jewels; beyond lay the sea,
1523shimmering and blue, and over it soared the gulls, their pinions
1524flashing silvery in the sunlight.
1525
1526“Isn’t the sea wonderful?” said Anne, rousing from a long, wide-eyed
1527silence. “Once, when I lived in Marysville, Mr. Thomas hired an express
1528wagon and took us all to spend the day at the shore ten miles away.
1529I enjoyed every moment of that day, even if I had to look after the
1530children all the time. I lived it over in happy dreams for years.
1531But this shore is nicer than the Marysville shore. Aren’t those gulls
1532splendid? Would you like to be a gull? I think I would--that is, if I
1533couldn’t be a human girl. Don’t you think it would be nice to wake up at
1534sunrise and swoop down over the water and away out over that lovely blue
1535all day; and then at night to fly back to one’s nest? Oh, I can just
1536imagine myself doing it. What big house is that just ahead, please?”
1537
1538“That’s the White Sands Hotel. Mr. Kirke runs it, but the season hasn’t
1539begun yet. There are heaps of Americans come there for the summer. They
1540think this shore is just about right.”
1541
1542“I was afraid it might be Mrs. Spencer’s place,” said Anne mournfully.
1543“I don’t want to get there. Somehow, it will seem like the end of
1544everything.”
1545
1546
1547
1548
1549CHAPTER VI. Marilla Makes Up Her Mind
1550
1551
1552|GET there they did, however, in due season. Mrs. Spencer lived in a big
1553yellow house at White Sands Cove, and she came to the door with surprise
1554and welcome mingled on her benevolent face.
1555
1556“Dear, dear,” she exclaimed, “you’re the last folks I was looking for
1557today, but I’m real glad to see you. You’ll put your horse in? And how
1558are you, Anne?”
1559
1560“I’m as well as can be expected, thank you,” said Anne smilelessly. A
1561blight seemed to have descended on her.
1562
1563“I suppose we’ll stay a little while to rest the mare,” said Marilla,
1564“but I promised Matthew I’d be home early. The fact is, Mrs. Spencer,
1565there’s been a queer mistake somewhere, and I’ve come over to see where
1566it is. We send word, Matthew and I, for you to bring us a boy from the
1567asylum. We told your brother Robert to tell you we wanted a boy ten or
1568eleven years old.”
1569
1570“Marilla Cuthbert, you don’t say so!” said Mrs. Spencer in distress.
1571“Why, Robert sent word down by his daughter Nancy and she said you
1572wanted a girl--didn’t she Flora Jane?” appealing to her daughter who had
1573come out to the steps.
1574
1575“She certainly did, Miss Cuthbert,” corroborated Flora Jane earnestly.
1576
1577“I’m dreadful sorry,” said Mrs. Spencer. “It’s too bad; but it certainly
1578wasn’t my fault, you see, Miss Cuthbert. I did the best I could and I
1579thought I was following your instructions. Nancy is a terrible flighty
1580thing. I’ve often had to scold her well for her heedlessness.”
1581
1582“It was our own fault,” said Marilla resignedly. “We should have come
1583to you ourselves and not left an important message to be passed along by
1584word of mouth in that fashion. Anyhow, the mistake has been made and the
1585only thing to do is to set it right. Can we send the child back to the
1586asylum? I suppose they’ll take her back, won’t they?”
1587
1588“I suppose so,” said Mrs. Spencer thoughtfully, “but I don’t think
1589it will be necessary to send her back. Mrs. Peter Blewett was up here
1590yesterday, and she was saying to me how much she wished she’d sent by me
1591for a little girl to help her. Mrs. Peter has a large family, you know,
1592and she finds it hard to get help. Anne will be the very girl for you. I
1593call it positively providential.”
1594
1595Marilla did not look as if she thought Providence had much to do with
1596the matter. Here was an unexpectedly good chance to get this unwelcome
1597orphan off her hands, and she did not even feel grateful for it.
1598
1599She knew Mrs. Peter Blewett only by sight as a small, shrewish-faced
1600woman without an ounce of superfluous flesh on her bones. But she had
1601heard of her. “A terrible worker and driver,” Mrs. Peter was said to
1602be; and discharged servant girls told fearsome tales of her temper and
1603stinginess, and her family of pert, quarrelsome children. Marilla felt
1604a qualm of conscience at the thought of handing Anne over to her tender
1605mercies.
1606
1607“Well, I’ll go in and we’ll talk the matter over,” she said.
1608
1609“And if there isn’t Mrs. Peter coming up the lane this blessed minute!”
1610 exclaimed Mrs. Spencer, bustling her guests through the hall into the
1611parlor, where a deadly chill struck on them as if the air had been
1612strained so long through dark green, closely drawn blinds that it had
1613lost every particle of warmth it had ever possessed. “That is real
1614lucky, for we can settle the matter right away. Take the armchair, Miss
1615Cuthbert. Anne, you sit here on the ottoman and don’t wiggle. Let
1616me take your hats. Flora Jane, go out and put the kettle on. Good
1617afternoon, Mrs. Blewett. We were just saying how fortunate it was you
1618happened along. Let me introduce you two ladies. Mrs. Blewett, Miss
1619Cuthbert. Please excuse me for just a moment. I forgot to tell Flora
1620Jane to take the buns out of the oven.”
1621
1622Mrs. Spencer whisked away, after pulling up the blinds. Anne sitting
1623mutely on the ottoman, with her hands clasped tightly in her lap, stared
1624at Mrs Blewett as one fascinated. Was she to be given into the keeping
1625of this sharp-faced, sharp-eyed woman? She felt a lump coming up in her
1626throat and her eyes smarted painfully. She was beginning to be afraid
1627she couldn’t keep the tears back when Mrs. Spencer returned, flushed
1628and beaming, quite capable of taking any and every difficulty, physical,
1629mental or spiritual, into consideration and settling it out of hand.
1630
1631“It seems there’s been a mistake about this little girl, Mrs. Blewett,”
1632 she said. “I was under the impression that Mr. and Miss Cuthbert wanted
1633a little girl to adopt. I was certainly told so. But it seems it was a
1634boy they wanted. So if you’re still of the same mind you were yesterday,
1635I think she’ll be just the thing for you.”
1636
1637Mrs. Blewett darted her eyes over Anne from head to foot.
1638
1639“How old are you and what’s your name?” she demanded.
1640
1641“Anne Shirley,” faltered the shrinking child, not daring to make any
1642stipulations regarding the spelling thereof, “and I’m eleven years old.”
1643
1644“Humph! You don’t look as if there was much to you. But you’re wiry. I
1645don’t know but the wiry ones are the best after all. Well, if I take you
1646you’ll have to be a good girl, you know--good and smart and respectful.
1647I’ll expect you to earn your keep, and no mistake about that. Yes, I
1648suppose I might as well take her off your hands, Miss Cuthbert. The
1649baby’s awful fractious, and I’m clean worn out attending to him. If you
1650like I can take her right home now.”
1651
1652Marilla looked at Anne and softened at sight of the child’s pale face
1653with its look of mute misery--the misery of a helpless little creature
1654who finds itself once more caught in the trap from which it had escaped.
1655Marilla felt an uncomfortable conviction that, if she denied the appeal
1656of that look, it would haunt her to her dying day. More-over, she did
1657not fancy Mrs. Blewett. To hand a sensitive, “highstrung” child over to
1658such a woman! No, she could not take the responsibility of doing that!
1659
1660“Well, I don’t know,” she said slowly. “I didn’t say that Matthew and I
1661had absolutely decided that we wouldn’t keep her. In fact I may say that
1662Matthew is disposed to keep her. I just came over to find out how the
1663mistake had occurred. I think I’d better take her home again and talk it
1664over with Matthew. I feel that I oughtn’t to decide on anything without
1665consulting him. If we make up our mind not to keep her we’ll bring or
1666send her over to you tomorrow night. If we don’t you may know that she
1667is going to stay with us. Will that suit you, Mrs. Blewett?”
1668
1669“I suppose it’ll have to,” said Mrs. Blewett ungraciously.
1670
1671During Marilla’s speech a sunrise had been dawning on Anne’s face. First
1672the look of despair faded out; then came a faint flush of hope;
1673her eyes grew deep and bright as morning stars. The child was quite
1674transfigured; and, a moment later, when Mrs. Spencer and Mrs. Blewett
1675went out in quest of a recipe the latter had come to borrow she sprang
1676up and flew across the room to Marilla.
1677
1678“Oh, Miss Cuthbert, did you really say that perhaps you would let me
1679stay at Green Gables?” she said, in a breathless whisper, as if speaking
1680aloud might shatter the glorious possibility. “Did you really say it? Or
1681did I only imagine that you did?”
1682
1683“I think you’d better learn to control that imagination of yours, Anne,
1684if you can’t distinguish between what is real and what isn’t,” said
1685Marilla crossly. “Yes, you did hear me say just that and no more. It
1686isn’t decided yet and perhaps we will conclude to let Mrs. Blewett take
1687you after all. She certainly needs you much more than I do.”
1688
1689“I’d rather go back to the asylum than go to live with her,” said Anne
1690passionately. “She looks exactly like a--like a gimlet.”
1691
1692Marilla smothered a smile under the conviction that Anne must be
1693reproved for such a speech.
1694
1695“A little girl like you should be ashamed of talking so about a lady and
1696a stranger,” she said severely. “Go back and sit down quietly and hold
1697your tongue and behave as a good girl should.”
1698
1699“I’ll try to do and be anything you want me, if you’ll only keep me,”
1700 said Anne, returning meekly to her ottoman.
1701
1702When they arrived back at Green Gables that evening Matthew met them in
1703the lane. Marilla from afar had noted him prowling along it and guessed
1704his motive. She was prepared for the relief she read in his face when he
1705saw that she had at least brought back Anne back with her. But she said
1706nothing, to him, relative to the affair, until they were both out in the
1707yard behind the barn milking the cows. Then she briefly told him Anne’s
1708history and the result of the interview with Mrs. Spencer.
1709
1710“I wouldn’t give a dog I liked to that Blewett woman,” said Matthew with
1711unusual vim.
1712
1713“I don’t fancy her style myself,” admitted Marilla, “but it’s that
1714or keeping her ourselves, Matthew. And since you seem to want her, I
1715suppose I’m willing--or have to be. I’ve been thinking over the idea
1716until I’ve got kind of used to it. It seems a sort of duty. I’ve never
1717brought up a child, especially a girl, and I dare say I’ll make a
1718terrible mess of it. But I’ll do my best. So far as I’m concerned,
1719Matthew, she may stay.”
1720
1721Matthew’s shy face was a glow of delight.
1722
1723“Well now, I reckoned you’d come to see it in that light, Marilla,” he
1724said. “She’s such an interesting little thing.”
1725
1726“It’d be more to the point if you could say she was a useful little
1727thing,” retorted Marilla, “but I’ll make it my business to see she’s
1728trained to be that. And mind, Matthew, you’re not to go interfering with
1729my methods. Perhaps an old maid doesn’t know much about bringing up
1730a child, but I guess she knows more than an old bachelor. So you just
1731leave me to manage her. When I fail it’ll be time enough to put your oar
1732in.”
1733
1734“There, there, Marilla, you can have your own way,” said Matthew
1735reassuringly. “Only be as good and kind to her as you can without
1736spoiling her. I kind of think she’s one of the sort you can do anything
1737with if you only get her to love you.”
1738
1739Marilla sniffed, to express her contempt for Matthew’s opinions
1740concerning anything feminine, and walked off to the dairy with the
1741pails.
1742
1743“I won’t tell her tonight that she can stay,” she reflected, as she
1744strained the milk into the creamers. “She’d be so excited that she
1745wouldn’t sleep a wink. Marilla Cuthbert, you’re fairly in for it. Did
1746you ever suppose you’d see the day when you’d be adopting an orphan
1747girl? It’s surprising enough; but not so surprising as that Matthew
1748should be at the bottom of it, him that always seemed to have such a
1749mortal dread of little girls. Anyhow, we’ve decided on the experiment
1750and goodness only knows what will come of it.”
1751
1752
1753
1754
1755CHAPTER VII. Anne Says Her Prayers
1756
1757
1758|WHEN Marilla took Anne up to bed that night she said stiffly:
1759
1760“Now, Anne, I noticed last night that you threw your clothes all about
1761the floor when you took them off. That is a very untidy habit, and I
1762can’t allow it at all. As soon as you take off any article of clothing
1763fold it neatly and place it on the chair. I haven’t any use at all for
1764little girls who aren’t neat.”
1765
1766“I was so harrowed up in my mind last night that I didn’t think about my
1767clothes at all,” said Anne. “I’ll fold them nicely tonight. They always
1768made us do that at the asylum. Half the time, though, I’d forget, I’d be
1769in such a hurry to get into bed nice and quiet and imagine things.”
1770
1771“You’ll have to remember a little better if you stay here,” admonished
1772Marilla. “There, that looks something like. Say your prayers now and get
1773into bed.”
1774
1775“I never say any prayers,” announced Anne.
1776
1777Marilla looked horrified astonishment.
1778
1779“Why, Anne, what do you mean? Were you never taught to say your prayers?
1780God always wants little girls to say their prayers. Don’t you know who
1781God is, Anne?”
1782
1783“‘God is a spirit, infinite, eternal and unchangeable, in His being,
1784wisdom, power, holiness, justice, goodness, and truth,’” responded Anne
1785promptly and glibly.
1786
1787Marilla looked rather relieved.
1788
1789“So you do know something then, thank goodness! You’re not quite a
1790heathen. Where did you learn that?”
1791
1792“Oh, at the asylum Sunday-school. They made us learn the whole
1793catechism. I liked it pretty well. There’s something splendid about some
1794of the words. ‘Infinite, eternal and unchangeable.’ Isn’t that grand? It
1795has such a roll to it--just like a big organ playing. You couldn’t quite
1796call it poetry, I suppose, but it sounds a lot like it, doesn’t it?”
1797
1798“We’re not talking about poetry, Anne--we are talking about saying your
1799prayers. Don’t you know it’s a terrible wicked thing not to say your
1800prayers every night? I’m afraid you are a very bad little girl.”
1801
1802“You’d find it easier to be bad than good if you had red hair,” said
1803Anne reproachfully. “People who haven’t red hair don’t know what trouble
1804is. Mrs. Thomas told me that God made my hair red _on purpose_, and I’ve
1805never cared about Him since. And anyhow I’d always be too tired at night
1806to bother saying prayers. People who have to look after twins can’t be
1807expected to say their prayers. Now, do you honestly think they can?”
1808
1809Marilla decided that Anne’s religious training must be begun at once.
1810Plainly there was no time to be lost.
1811
1812“You must say your prayers while you are under my roof, Anne.”
1813
1814“Why, of course, if you want me to,” assented Anne cheerfully. “I’d do
1815anything to oblige you. But you’ll have to tell me what to say for this
1816once. After I get into bed I’ll imagine out a real nice prayer to say
1817always. I believe that it will be quite interesting, now that I come to
1818think of it.”
1819
1820“You must kneel down,” said Marilla in embarrassment.
1821
1822Anne knelt at Marilla’s knee and looked up gravely.
1823
1824“Why must people kneel down to pray? If I really wanted to pray I’ll
1825tell you what I’d do. I’d go out into a great big field all alone
1826or into the deep, deep, woods, and I’d look up into the
1827sky--up--up--up--into that lovely blue sky that looks as if there was no
1828end to its blueness. And then I’d just _feel_ a prayer. Well, I’m ready.
1829What am I to say?”
1830
1831Marilla felt more embarrassed than ever. She had intended to teach Anne
1832the childish classic, “Now I lay me down to sleep.” But she had, as
1833I have told you, the glimmerings of a sense of humor--which is simply
1834another name for a sense of fitness of things; and it suddenly occurred
1835to her that that simple little prayer, sacred to white-robed childhood
1836lisping at motherly knees, was entirely unsuited to this freckled witch
1837of a girl who knew and cared nothing about God’s love, since she had
1838never had it translated to her through the medium of human love.
1839
1840“You’re old enough to pray for yourself, Anne,” she said finally. “Just
1841thank God for your blessings and ask Him humbly for the things you
1842want.”
1843
1844“Well, I’ll do my best,” promised Anne, burying her face in Marilla’s
1845lap. “Gracious heavenly Father--that’s the way the ministers say it in
1846church, so I suppose it’s all right in private prayer, isn’t it?” she
1847interjected, lifting her head for a moment.
1848
1849   “Gracious heavenly Father, I thank Thee for the White
1850   Way of Delight and the Lake of Shining Waters and Bonny
1851   and the Snow Queen. I’m really extremely grateful for
1852   them. And that’s all the blessings I can think of just
1853   now to thank Thee for. As for the things I want,
1854   they’re so numerous that it would take a great deal of
1855   time to name them all so I will only mention the two
1856   most important. Please let me stay at Green Gables;
1857   and please let me be good-looking when I grow up.
1858   I remain,
1859                    “Yours respectfully,
1860                       Anne Shirley.
1861
1862“There, did I do all right?” she asked eagerly, getting up. “I could
1863have made it much more flowery if I’d had a little more time to think it
1864over.”
1865
1866Poor Marilla was only preserved from complete collapse by remembering
1867that it was not irreverence, but simply spiritual ignorance on the part
1868of Anne that was responsible for this extraordinary petition. She tucked
1869the child up in bed, mentally vowing that she should be taught a prayer
1870the very next day, and was leaving the room with the light when Anne
1871called her back.
1872
1873“I’ve just thought of it now. I should have said, ‘Amen’ in place
1874of ‘yours respectfully,’ shouldn’t I?--the way the ministers do. I’d
1875forgotten it, but I felt a prayer should be finished off in some way, so
1876I put in the other. Do you suppose it will make any difference?”
1877
1878“I--I don’t suppose it will,” said Marilla. “Go to sleep now like a good
1879child. Good night.”
1880
1881“I can only say good night tonight with a clear conscience,” said Anne,
1882cuddling luxuriously down among her pillows.
1883
1884Marilla retreated to the kitchen, set the candle firmly on the table,
1885and glared at Matthew.
1886
1887“Matthew Cuthbert, it’s about time somebody adopted that child and
1888taught her something. She’s next door to a perfect heathen. Will you
1889believe that she never said a prayer in her life till tonight? I’ll send
1890her to the manse tomorrow and borrow the Peep of the Day series, that’s
1891what I’ll do. And she shall go to Sunday-school just as soon as I can
1892get some suitable clothes made for her. I foresee that I shall have
1893my hands full. Well, well, we can’t get through this world without our
1894share of trouble. I’ve had a pretty easy life of it so far, but my time
1895has come at last and I suppose I’ll just have to make the best of it.”
1896
1897
1898
1899
1900CHAPTER VIII. Anne’s Bringing-up Is Begun
1901
1902
1903|FOR reasons best known to herself, Marilla did not tell Anne that
1904she was to stay at Green Gables until the next afternoon. During the
1905forenoon she kept the child busy with various tasks and watched over her
1906with a keen eye while she did them. By noon she had concluded that Anne
1907was smart and obedient, willing to work and quick to learn; her most
1908serious shortcoming seemed to be a tendency to fall into daydreams in
1909the middle of a task and forget all about it until such time as she was
1910sharply recalled to earth by a reprimand or a catastrophe.
1911
1912When Anne had finished washing the dinner dishes she suddenly confronted
1913Marilla with the air and expression of one desperately determined to
1914learn the worst. Her thin little body trembled from head to foot; her
1915face flushed and her eyes dilated until they were almost black; she
1916clasped her hands tightly and said in an imploring voice:
1917
1918“Oh, please, Miss Cuthbert, won’t you tell me if you are going to send
1919me away or not? I’ve tried to be patient all the morning, but I really
1920feel that I cannot bear not knowing any longer. It’s a dreadful feeling.
1921Please tell me.”
1922
1923“You haven’t scalded the dishcloth in clean hot water as I told you to
1924do,” said Marilla immovably. “Just go and do it before you ask any more
1925questions, Anne.”
1926
1927Anne went and attended to the dishcloth. Then she returned to Marilla
1928and fastened imploring eyes of the latter’s face. “Well,” said Marilla,
1929unable to find any excuse for deferring her explanation longer, “I
1930suppose I might as well tell you. Matthew and I have decided to keep
1931you--that is, if you will try to be a good little girl and show yourself
1932grateful. Why, child, whatever is the matter?”
1933
1934“I’m crying,” said Anne in a tone of bewilderment. “I can’t think why.
1935I’m glad as glad can be. Oh, _glad_ doesn’t seem the right word at all. I
1936was glad about the White Way and the cherry blossoms--but this! Oh, it’s
1937something more than glad. I’m so happy. I’ll try to be so good. It
1938will be uphill work, I expect, for Mrs. Thomas often told me I was
1939desperately wicked. However, I’ll do my very best. But can you tell me
1940why I’m crying?”
1941
1942“I suppose it’s because you’re all excited and worked up,” said Marilla
1943disapprovingly. “Sit down on that chair and try to calm yourself. I’m
1944afraid you both cry and laugh far too easily. Yes, you can stay here and
1945we will try to do right by you. You must go to school; but it’s only a
1946fortnight till vacation so it isn’t worth while for you to start before
1947it opens again in September.”
1948
1949“What am I to call you?” asked Anne. “Shall I always say Miss Cuthbert?
1950Can I call you Aunt Marilla?”
1951
1952“No; you’ll call me just plain Marilla. I’m not used to being called
1953Miss Cuthbert and it would make me nervous.”
1954
1955“It sounds awfully disrespectful to just say Marilla,” protested Anne.
1956
1957“I guess there’ll be nothing disrespectful in it if you’re careful
1958to speak respectfully. Everybody, young and old, in Avonlea calls me
1959Marilla except the minister. He says Miss Cuthbert--when he thinks of
1960it.”
1961
1962“I’d love to call you Aunt Marilla,” said Anne wistfully. “I’ve never
1963had an aunt or any relation at all--not even a grandmother. It would
1964make me feel as if I really belonged to you. Can’t I call you Aunt
1965Marilla?”
1966
1967“No. I’m not your aunt and I don’t believe in calling people names that
1968don’t belong to them.”
1969
1970“But we could imagine you were my aunt.”
1971
1972“I couldn’t,” said Marilla grimly.
1973
1974“Do you never imagine things different from what they really are?” asked
1975Anne wide-eyed.
1976
1977“No.”
1978
1979“Oh!” Anne drew a long breath. “Oh, Miss--Marilla, how much you miss!”
1980
1981“I don’t believe in imagining things different from what they really
1982are,” retorted Marilla. “When the Lord puts us in certain circumstances
1983He doesn’t mean for us to imagine them away. And that reminds me. Go
1984into the sitting room, Anne--be sure your feet are clean and don’t
1985let any flies in--and bring me out the illustrated card that’s on the
1986mantelpiece. The Lord’s Prayer is on it and you’ll devote your spare
1987time this afternoon to learning it off by heart. There’s to be no more
1988of such praying as I heard last night.”
1989
1990“I suppose I was very awkward,” said Anne apologetically, “but then, you
1991see, I’d never had any practice. You couldn’t really expect a person
1992to pray very well the first time she tried, could you? I thought out a
1993splendid prayer after I went to bed, just as I promised you I would.
1994It was nearly as long as a minister’s and so poetical. But would you
1995believe it? I couldn’t remember one word when I woke up this morning.
1996And I’m afraid I’ll never be able to think out another one as good.
1997Somehow, things never are so good when they’re thought out a second
1998time. Have you ever noticed that?”
1999
2000“Here is something for you to notice, Anne. When I tell you to do
2001a thing I want you to obey me at once and not stand stock-still and
2002discourse about it. Just you go and do as I bid you.”
2003
2004Anne promptly departed for the sitting-room across the hall; she failed
2005to return; after waiting ten minutes Marilla laid down her knitting
2006and marched after her with a grim expression. She found Anne standing
2007motionless before a picture hanging on the wall between the two windows,
2008with her eyes a-star with dreams. The white and green light strained
2009through apple trees and clustering vines outside fell over the rapt
2010little figure with a half-unearthly radiance.
2011
2012“Anne, whatever are you thinking of?” demanded Marilla sharply.
2013
2014Anne came back to earth with a start.
2015
2016“That,” she said, pointing to the picture--a rather vivid chromo
2017entitled, “Christ Blessing Little Children”--“and I was just imagining I
2018was one of them--that I was the little girl in the blue dress, standing
2019off by herself in the corner as if she didn’t belong to anybody, like
2020me. She looks lonely and sad, don’t you think? I guess she hadn’t any
2021father or mother of her own. But she wanted to be blessed, too, so she
2022just crept shyly up on the outside of the crowd, hoping nobody would
2023notice her--except Him. I’m sure I know just how she felt. Her heart
2024must have beat and her hands must have got cold, like mine did when I
2025asked you if I could stay. She was afraid He mightn’t notice her. But
2026it’s likely He did, don’t you think? I’ve been trying to imagine it all
2027out--her edging a little nearer all the time until she was quite close
2028to Him; and then He would look at her and put His hand on her hair and
2029oh, such a thrill of joy as would run over her! But I wish the artist
2030hadn’t painted Him so sorrowful looking. All His pictures are like that,
2031if you’ve noticed. But I don’t believe He could really have looked so
2032sad or the children would have been afraid of Him.”
2033
2034“Anne,” said Marilla, wondering why she had not broken into this speech
2035long before, “you shouldn’t talk that way. It’s irreverent--positively
2036irreverent.”
2037
2038Anne’s eyes marveled.
2039
2040“Why, I felt just as reverent as could be. I’m sure I didn’t mean to be
2041irreverent.”
2042
2043“Well I don’t suppose you did--but it doesn’t sound right to talk so
2044familiarly about such things. And another thing, Anne, when I send you
2045after something you’re to bring it at once and not fall into mooning and
2046imagining before pictures. Remember that. Take that card and come right
2047to the kitchen. Now, sit down in the corner and learn that prayer off by
2048heart.”
2049
2050Anne set the card up against the jugful of apple blossoms she had
2051brought in to decorate the dinner-table--Marilla had eyed that
2052decoration askance, but had said nothing--propped her chin on her hands,
2053and fell to studying it intently for several silent minutes.
2054
2055“I like this,” she announced at length. “It’s beautiful. I’ve heard it
2056before--I heard the superintendent of the asylum Sunday school say it
2057over once. But I didn’t like it then. He had such a cracked voice and
2058he prayed it so mournfully. I really felt sure he thought praying was a
2059disagreeable duty. This isn’t poetry, but it makes me feel just the same
2060way poetry does. ‘Our Father who art in heaven hallowed be Thy name.’
2061That is just like a line of music. Oh, I’m so glad you thought of making
2062me learn this, Miss--Marilla.”
2063
2064“Well, learn it and hold your tongue,” said Marilla shortly.
2065
2066Anne tipped the vase of apple blossoms near enough to bestow a soft
2067kiss on a pink-cupped bud, and then studied diligently for some moments
2068longer.
2069
2070“Marilla,” she demanded presently, “do you think that I shall ever have
2071a bosom friend in Avonlea?”
2072
2073“A--a what kind of friend?”
2074
2075“A bosom friend--an intimate friend, you know--a really kindred spirit
2076to whom I can confide my inmost soul. I’ve dreamed of meeting her all
2077my life. I never really supposed I would, but so many of my loveliest
2078dreams have come true all at once that perhaps this one will, too. Do
2079you think it’s possible?”
2080
2081“Diana Barry lives over at Orchard Slope and she’s about your age. She’s
2082a very nice little girl, and perhaps she will be a playmate for you when
2083she comes home. She’s visiting her aunt over at Carmody just now. You’ll
2084have to be careful how you behave yourself, though. Mrs. Barry is a
2085very particular woman. She won’t let Diana play with any little girl who
2086isn’t nice and good.”
2087
2088Anne looked at Marilla through the apple blossoms, her eyes aglow with
2089interest.
2090
2091“What is Diana like? Her hair isn’t red, is it? Oh, I hope not. It’s bad
2092enough to have red hair myself, but I positively couldn’t endure it in a
2093bosom friend.”
2094
2095“Diana is a very pretty little girl. She has black eyes and hair and
2096rosy cheeks. And she is good and smart, which is better than being
2097pretty.”
2098
2099Marilla was as fond of morals as the Duchess in Wonderland, and was
2100firmly convinced that one should be tacked on to every remark made to a
2101child who was being brought up.
2102
2103But Anne waved the moral inconsequently aside and seized only on the
2104delightful possibilities before it.
2105
2106“Oh, I’m so glad she’s pretty. Next to being beautiful oneself--and
2107that’s impossible in my case--it would be best to have a beautiful bosom
2108friend. When I lived with Mrs. Thomas she had a bookcase in her sitting
2109room with glass doors. There weren’t any books in it; Mrs. Thomas kept
2110her best china and her preserves there--when she had any preserves to
2111keep. One of the doors was broken. Mr. Thomas smashed it one night
2112when he was slightly intoxicated. But the other was whole and I used to
2113pretend that my reflection in it was another little girl who lived in
2114it. I called her Katie Maurice, and we were very intimate. I used to
2115talk to her by the hour, especially on Sunday, and tell her everything.
2116Katie was the comfort and consolation of my life. We used to pretend
2117that the bookcase was enchanted and that if I only knew the spell I
2118could open the door and step right into the room where Katie Maurice
2119lived, instead of into Mrs. Thomas’ shelves of preserves and china. And
2120then Katie Maurice would have taken me by the hand and led me out into a
2121wonderful place, all flowers and sunshine and fairies, and we would have
2122lived there happy for ever after. When I went to live with Mrs. Hammond
2123it just broke my heart to leave Katie Maurice. She felt it dreadfully,
2124too, I know she did, for she was crying when she kissed me good-bye
2125through the bookcase door. There was no bookcase at Mrs. Hammond’s. But
2126just up the river a little way from the house there was a long green
2127little valley, and the loveliest echo lived there. It echoed back every
2128word you said, even if you didn’t talk a bit loud. So I imagined that it
2129was a little girl called Violetta and we were great friends and I loved
2130her almost as well as I loved Katie Maurice--not quite, but almost, you
2131know. The night before I went to the asylum I said good-bye to Violetta,
2132and oh, her good-bye came back to me in such sad, sad tones. I had
2133become so attached to her that I hadn’t the heart to imagine a bosom
2134friend at the asylum, even if there had been any scope for imagination
2135there.”
2136
2137“I think it’s just as well there wasn’t,” said Marilla drily. “I
2138don’t approve of such goings-on. You seem to half believe your own
2139imaginations. It will be well for you to have a real live friend to
2140put such nonsense out of your head. But don’t let Mrs. Barry hear you
2141talking about your Katie Maurices and your Violettas or she’ll think you
2142tell stories.”
2143
2144“Oh, I won’t. I couldn’t talk of them to everybody--their memories are
2145too sacred for that. But I thought I’d like to have you know about them.
2146Oh, look, here’s a big bee just tumbled out of an apple blossom. Just
2147think what a lovely place to live--in an apple blossom! Fancy going to
2148sleep in it when the wind was rocking it. If I wasn’t a human girl I
2149think I’d like to be a bee and live among the flowers.”
2150
2151“Yesterday you wanted to be a sea gull,” sniffed Marilla. “I think you
2152are very fickle minded. I told you to learn that prayer and not talk.
2153But it seems impossible for you to stop talking if you’ve got anybody
2154that will listen to you. So go up to your room and learn it.”
2155
2156“Oh, I know it pretty nearly all now--all but just the last line.”
2157
2158“Well, never mind, do as I tell you. Go to your room and finish learning
2159it well, and stay there until I call you down to help me get tea.”
2160
2161“Can I take the apple blossoms with me for company?” pleaded Anne.
2162
2163“No; you don’t want your room cluttered up with flowers. You should have
2164left them on the tree in the first place.”
2165
2166“I did feel a little that way, too,” said Anne. “I kind of felt I
2167shouldn’t shorten their lovely lives by picking them--I wouldn’t want
2168to be picked if I were an apple blossom. But the temptation was
2169_irresistible_. What do you do when you meet with an irresistible
2170temptation?”
2171
2172“Anne, did you hear me tell you to go to your room?”
2173
2174Anne sighed, retreated to the east gable, and sat down in a chair by the
2175window.
2176
2177“There--I know this prayer. I learned that last sentence coming
2178upstairs. Now I’m going to imagine things into this room so that they’ll
2179always stay imagined. The floor is covered with a white velvet carpet
2180with pink roses all over it and there are pink silk curtains at the
2181windows. The walls are hung with gold and silver brocade tapestry. The
2182furniture is mahogany. I never saw any mahogany, but it does sound _so_
2183luxurious. This is a couch all heaped with gorgeous silken cushions,
2184pink and blue and crimson and gold, and I am reclining gracefully on it.
2185I can see my reflection in that splendid big mirror hanging on the wall.
2186I am tall and regal, clad in a gown of trailing white lace, with a
2187pearl cross on my breast and pearls in my hair. My hair is of midnight
2188darkness and my skin is a clear ivory pallor. My name is the Lady
2189Cordelia Fitzgerald. No, it isn’t--I can’t make _that_ seem real.”
2190
2191She danced up to the little looking-glass and peered into it. Her
2192pointed freckled face and solemn gray eyes peered back at her.
2193
2194“You’re only Anne of Green Gables,” she said earnestly, “and I see you,
2195just as you are looking now, whenever I try to imagine I’m the Lady
2196Cordelia. But it’s a million times nicer to be Anne of Green Gables than
2197Anne of nowhere in particular, isn’t it?”
2198
2199She bent forward, kissed her reflection affectionately, and betook
2200herself to the open window.
2201
2202
2203“Dear Snow Queen, good afternoon. And good afternoon dear birches down
2204in the hollow. And good afternoon, dear gray house up on the hill. I
2205wonder if Diana is to be my bosom friend. I hope she will, and I shall
2206love her very much. But I must never quite forget Katie Maurice
2207and Violetta. They would feel so hurt if I did and I’d hate to hurt
2208anybody’s feelings, even a little bookcase girl’s or a little echo
2209girl’s. I must be careful to remember them and send them a kiss every
2210day.”
2211
2212Anne blew a couple of airy kisses from her fingertips past the cherry
2213blossoms and then, with her chin in her hands, drifted luxuriously out
2214on a sea of daydreams.
2215
2216
2217
2218
2219CHAPTER IX. Mrs. Rachel Lynde Is Properly Horrified
2220
2221
2222|ANNE had been a fortnight at Green Gables before Mrs. Lynde arrived to
2223inspect her. Mrs. Rachel, to do her justice, was not to blame for this.
2224A severe and unseasonable attack of grippe had confined that good lady
2225to her house ever since the occasion of her last visit to Green Gables.
2226Mrs. Rachel was not often sick and had a well-defined contempt for
2227people who were; but grippe, she asserted, was like no other illness on
2228earth and could only be interpreted as one of the special visitations
2229of Providence. As soon as her doctor allowed her to put her foot
2230out-of-doors she hurried up to Green Gables, bursting with curiosity to
2231see Matthew and Marilla’s orphan, concerning whom all sorts of stories
2232and suppositions had gone abroad in Avonlea.
2233
2234Anne had made good use of every waking moment of that fortnight. Already
2235she was acquainted with every tree and shrub about the place. She had
2236discovered that a lane opened out below the apple orchard and ran up
2237through a belt of woodland; and she had explored it to its furthest end
2238in all its delicious vagaries of brook and bridge, fir coppice and wild
2239cherry arch, corners thick with fern, and branching byways of maple and
2240mountain ash.
2241
2242She had made friends with the spring down in the hollow--that wonderful
2243deep, clear icy-cold spring; it was set about with smooth red sandstones
2244and rimmed in by great palm-like clumps of water fern; and beyond it was
2245a log bridge over the brook.
2246
2247That bridge led Anne’s dancing feet up over a wooded hill beyond, where
2248perpetual twilight reigned under the straight, thick-growing firs and
2249spruces; the only flowers there were myriads of delicate “June bells,”
2250 those shyest and sweetest of woodland blooms, and a few pale, aerial
2251starflowers, like the spirits of last year’s blossoms. Gossamers
2252glimmered like threads of silver among the trees and the fir boughs and
2253tassels seemed to utter friendly speech.
2254
2255All these raptured voyages of exploration were made in the odd half
2256hours which she was allowed for play, and Anne talked Matthew and
2257Marilla half-deaf over her discoveries. Not that Matthew complained, to
2258be sure; he listened to it all with a wordless smile of enjoyment on his
2259face; Marilla permitted the “chatter” until she found herself becoming
2260too interested in it, whereupon she always promptly quenched Anne by a
2261curt command to hold her tongue.
2262
2263Anne was out in the orchard when Mrs. Rachel came, wandering at her
2264own sweet will through the lush, tremulous grasses splashed with ruddy
2265evening sunshine; so that good lady had an excellent chance to talk
2266her illness fully over, describing every ache and pulse beat with
2267such evident enjoyment that Marilla thought even grippe must bring its
2268compensations. When details were exhausted Mrs. Rachel introduced the
2269real reason of her call.
2270
2271“I’ve been hearing some surprising things about you and Matthew.”
2272
2273“I don’t suppose you are any more surprised than I am myself,” said
2274Marilla. “I’m getting over my surprise now.”
2275
2276“It was too bad there was such a mistake,” said Mrs. Rachel
2277sympathetically. “Couldn’t you have sent her back?”
2278
2279“I suppose we could, but we decided not to. Matthew took a fancy to her.
2280And I must say I like her myself--although I admit she has her faults.
2281The house seems a different place already. She’s a real bright little
2282thing.”
2283
2284Marilla said more than she had intended to say when she began, for she
2285read disapproval in Mrs. Rachel’s expression.
2286
2287“It’s a great responsibility you’ve taken on yourself,” said that
2288lady gloomily, “especially when you’ve never had any experience with
2289children. You don’t know much about her or her real disposition, I
2290suppose, and there’s no guessing how a child like that will turn out.
2291But I don’t want to discourage you I’m sure, Marilla.”
2292
2293“I’m not feeling discouraged,” was Marilla’s dry response, “when I make
2294up my mind to do a thing it stays made up. I suppose you’d like to see
2295Anne. I’ll call her in.”
2296
2297Anne came running in presently, her face sparkling with the delight of
2298her orchard rovings; but, abashed at finding the delight herself in
2299the unexpected presence of a stranger, she halted confusedly inside
2300the door. She certainly was an odd-looking little creature in the short
2301tight wincey dress she had worn from the asylum, below which her thin
2302legs seemed ungracefully long. Her freckles were more numerous and
2303obtrusive than ever; the wind had ruffled her hatless hair into
2304over-brilliant disorder; it had never looked redder than at that moment.
2305
2306“Well, they didn’t pick you for your looks, that’s sure and certain,”
2307 was Mrs. Rachel Lynde’s emphatic comment. Mrs. Rachel was one of those
2308delightful and popular people who pride themselves on speaking their
2309mind without fear or favor. “She’s terrible skinny and homely, Marilla.
2310Come here, child, and let me have a look at you. Lawful heart, did
2311any one ever see such freckles? And hair as red as carrots! Come here,
2312child, I say.”
2313
2314Anne “came there,” but not exactly as Mrs. Rachel expected. With one
2315bound she crossed the kitchen floor and stood before Mrs. Rachel, her
2316face scarlet with anger, her lips quivering, and her whole slender form
2317trembling from head to foot.
2318
2319“I hate you,” she cried in a choked voice, stamping her foot on the
2320floor. “I hate you--I hate you--I hate you--” a louder stamp with each
2321assertion of hatred. “How dare you call me skinny and ugly? How dare
2322you say I’m freckled and redheaded? You are a rude, impolite, unfeeling
2323woman!”
2324
2325“Anne!” exclaimed Marilla in consternation.
2326
2327But Anne continued to face Mrs. Rachel undauntedly, head up, eyes
2328blazing, hands clenched, passionate indignation exhaling from her like
2329an atmosphere.
2330
2331“How dare you say such things about me?” she repeated vehemently. “How
2332would you like to have such things said about you? How would you like
2333to be told that you are fat and clumsy and probably hadn’t a spark of
2334imagination in you? I don’t care if I do hurt your feelings by saying
2335so! I hope I hurt them. You have hurt mine worse than they were ever
2336hurt before even by Mrs. Thomas’ intoxicated husband. And I’ll _never_
2337forgive you for it, never, never!”
2338
2339Stamp! Stamp!
2340
2341“Did anybody ever see such a temper!” exclaimed the horrified Mrs.
2342Rachel.
2343
2344“Anne go to your room and stay there until I come up,” said Marilla,
2345recovering her powers of speech with difficulty.
2346
2347Anne, bursting into tears, rushed to the hall door, slammed it until the
2348tins on the porch wall outside rattled in sympathy, and fled through the
2349hall and up the stairs like a whirlwind. A subdued slam above told that
2350the door of the east gable had been shut with equal vehemence.
2351
2352“Well, I don’t envy you your job bringing _that_ up, Marilla,” said Mrs.
2353Rachel with unspeakable solemnity.
2354
2355Marilla opened her lips to say she knew not what of apology or
2356deprecation. What she did say was a surprise to herself then and ever
2357afterwards.
2358
2359“You shouldn’t have twitted her about her looks, Rachel.”
2360
2361“Marilla Cuthbert, you don’t mean to say that you are upholding her in
2362such a terrible display of temper as we’ve just seen?” demanded Mrs.
2363Rachel indignantly.
2364
2365“No,” said Marilla slowly, “I’m not trying to excuse her. She’s been
2366very naughty and I’ll have to give her a talking to about it. But we
2367must make allowances for her. She’s never been taught what is right. And
2368you _were_ too hard on her, Rachel.”
2369
2370Marilla could not help tacking on that last sentence, although she was
2371again surprised at herself for doing it. Mrs. Rachel got up with an air
2372of offended dignity.
2373
2374“Well, I see that I’ll have to be very careful what I say after this,
2375Marilla, since the fine feelings of orphans, brought from goodness
2376knows where, have to be considered before anything else. Oh, no, I’m not
2377vexed--don’t worry yourself. I’m too sorry for you to leave any room for
2378anger in my mind. You’ll have your own troubles with that child. But
2379if you’ll take my advice--which I suppose you won’t do, although I’ve
2380brought up ten children and buried two--you’ll do that ‘talking to’ you
2381mention with a fair-sized birch switch. I should think _that_ would be the
2382most effective language for that kind of a child. Her temper matches her
2383hair I guess. Well, good evening, Marilla. I hope you’ll come down to
2384see me often as usual. But you can’t expect me to visit here again in a
2385hurry, if I’m liable to be flown at and insulted in such a fashion. It’s
2386something new in _my_ experience.”
2387
2388Whereat Mrs. Rachel swept out and away--if a fat woman who always
2389waddled _could_ be said to sweep away--and Marilla with a very solemn face
2390betook herself to the east gable.
2391
2392On the way upstairs she pondered uneasily as to what she ought to do.
2393She felt no little dismay over the scene that had just been enacted.
2394How unfortunate that Anne should have displayed such temper before Mrs.
2395Rachel Lynde, of all people! Then Marilla suddenly became aware of an
2396uncomfortable and rebuking consciousness that she felt more humiliation
2397over this than sorrow over the discovery of such a serious defect
2398in Anne’s disposition. And how was she to punish her? The amiable
2399suggestion of the birch switch--to the efficiency of which all of Mrs.
2400Rachel’s own children could have borne smarting testimony--did not
2401appeal to Marilla. She did not believe she could whip a child. No,
2402some other method of punishment must be found to bring Anne to a proper
2403realization of the enormity of her offense.
2404
2405Marilla found Anne face downward on her bed, crying bitterly, quite
2406oblivious of muddy boots on a clean counterpane.
2407
2408“Anne,” she said not ungently.
2409
2410No answer.
2411
2412“Anne,” with greater severity, “get off that bed this minute and listen
2413to what I have to say to you.”
2414
2415Anne squirmed off the bed and sat rigidly on a chair beside it, her face
2416swollen and tear-stained and her eyes fixed stubbornly on the floor.
2417
2418“This is a nice way for you to behave. Anne! Aren’t you ashamed of
2419yourself?”
2420
2421“She hadn’t any right to call me ugly and redheaded,” retorted Anne,
2422evasive and defiant.
2423
2424“You hadn’t any right to fly into such a fury and talk the way you did
2425to her, Anne. I was ashamed of you--thoroughly ashamed of you. I
2426wanted you to behave nicely to Mrs. Lynde, and instead of that you have
2427disgraced me. I’m sure I don’t know why you should lose your temper like
2428that just because Mrs. Lynde said you were red-haired and homely. You
2429say it yourself often enough.”
2430
2431“Oh, but there’s such a difference between saying a thing yourself and
2432hearing other people say it,” wailed Anne. “You may know a thing is
2433so, but you can’t help hoping other people don’t quite think it is. I
2434suppose you think I have an awful temper, but I couldn’t help it. When
2435she said those things something just rose right up in me and choked me.
2436I _had_ to fly out at her.”
2437
2438“Well, you made a fine exhibition of yourself I must say. Mrs. Lynde
2439will have a nice story to tell about you everywhere--and she’ll tell
2440it, too. It was a dreadful thing for you to lose your temper like that,
2441Anne.”
2442
2443“Just imagine how you would feel if somebody told you to your face that
2444you were skinny and ugly,” pleaded Anne tearfully.
2445
2446An old remembrance suddenly rose up before Marilla. She had been a very
2447small child when she had heard one aunt say of her to another, “What a
2448pity she is such a dark, homely little thing.” Marilla was every day of
2449fifty before the sting had gone out of that memory.
2450
2451“I don’t say that I think Mrs. Lynde was exactly right in saying what
2452she did to you, Anne,” she admitted in a softer tone. “Rachel is too
2453outspoken. But that is no excuse for such behavior on your part. She
2454was a stranger and an elderly person and my visitor--all three very good
2455reasons why you should have been respectful to her. You were rude and
2456saucy and”--Marilla had a saving inspiration of punishment--“you must go
2457to her and tell her you are very sorry for your bad temper and ask her
2458to forgive you.”
2459
2460“I can never do that,” said Anne determinedly and darkly. “You can
2461punish me in any way you like, Marilla. You can shut me up in a dark,
2462damp dungeon inhabited by snakes and toads and feed me only on bread and
2463water and I shall not complain. But I cannot ask Mrs. Lynde to forgive
2464me.”
2465
2466“We’re not in the habit of shutting people up in dark damp dungeons,”
2467 said Marilla drily, “especially as they’re rather scarce in Avonlea. But
2468apologize to Mrs. Lynde you must and shall and you’ll stay here in your
2469room until you can tell me you’re willing to do it.”
2470
2471“I shall have to stay here forever then,” said Anne mournfully, “because
2472I can’t tell Mrs. Lynde I’m sorry I said those things to her. How can
2473I? I’m _not_ sorry. I’m sorry I’ve vexed you; but I’m _glad_ I told her just
2474what I did. It was a great satisfaction. I can’t say I’m sorry when I’m
2475not, can I? I can’t even _imagine_ I’m sorry.”
2476
2477“Perhaps your imagination will be in better working order by the
2478morning,” said Marilla, rising to depart. “You’ll have the night to
2479think over your conduct in and come to a better frame of mind. You said
2480you would try to be a very good girl if we kept you at Green Gables, but
2481I must say it hasn’t seemed very much like it this evening.”
2482
2483Leaving this Parthian shaft to rankle in Anne’s stormy bosom, Marilla
2484descended to the kitchen, grievously troubled in mind and vexed in
2485soul. She was as angry with herself as with Anne, because, whenever she
2486recalled Mrs. Rachel’s dumbfounded countenance her lips twitched with
2487amusement and she felt a most reprehensible desire to laugh.
2488
2489
2490
2491
2492CHAPTER X. Anne’s Apology
2493
2494
2495|MARILLA said nothing to Matthew about the affair that evening; but when
2496Anne proved still refractory the next morning an explanation had to be
2497made to account for her absence from the breakfast table. Marilla told
2498Matthew the whole story, taking pains to impress him with a due sense of
2499the enormity of Anne’s behavior.
2500
2501“It’s a good thing Rachel Lynde got a calling down; she’s a meddlesome
2502old gossip,” was Matthew’s consolatory rejoinder.
2503
2504“Matthew Cuthbert, I’m astonished at you. You know that Anne’s behavior
2505was dreadful, and yet you take her part! I suppose you’ll be saying next
2506thing that she oughtn’t to be punished at all!”
2507
2508“Well now--no--not exactly,” said Matthew uneasily. “I reckon she
2509ought to be punished a little. But don’t be too hard on her, Marilla.
2510Recollect she hasn’t ever had anyone to teach her right. You’re--you’re
2511going to give her something to eat, aren’t you?”
2512
2513“When did you ever hear of me starving people into good behavior?”
2514 demanded Marilla indignantly. “She’ll have her meals regular, and
2515I’ll carry them up to her myself. But she’ll stay up there until she’s
2516willing to apologize to Mrs. Lynde, and that’s final, Matthew.”
2517
2518Breakfast, dinner, and supper were very silent meals--for Anne still
2519remained obdurate. After each meal Marilla carried a well-filled tray
2520to the east gable and brought it down later on not noticeably depleted.
2521Matthew eyed its last descent with a troubled eye. Had Anne eaten
2522anything at all?
2523
2524When Marilla went out that evening to bring the cows from the back
2525pasture, Matthew, who had been hanging about the barns and watching,
2526slipped into the house with the air of a burglar and crept upstairs. As
2527a general thing Matthew gravitated between the kitchen and the little
2528bedroom off the hall where he slept; once in a while he ventured
2529uncomfortably into the parlor or sitting room when the minister came to
2530tea. But he had never been upstairs in his own house since the spring he
2531helped Marilla paper the spare bedroom, and that was four years ago.
2532
2533He tiptoed along the hall and stood for several minutes outside the
2534door of the east gable before he summoned courage to tap on it with his
2535fingers and then open the door to peep in.
2536
2537Anne was sitting on the yellow chair by the window gazing mournfully out
2538into the garden. Very small and unhappy she looked, and Matthew’s heart
2539smote him. He softly closed the door and tiptoed over to her.
2540
2541“Anne,” he whispered, as if afraid of being overheard, “how are you
2542making it, Anne?”
2543
2544Anne smiled wanly.
2545
2546“Pretty well. I imagine a good deal, and that helps to pass the time. Of
2547course, it’s rather lonesome. But then, I may as well get used to that.”
2548
2549Anne smiled again, bravely facing the long years of solitary
2550imprisonment before her.
2551
2552Matthew recollected that he must say what he had come to say without
2553loss of time, lest Marilla return prematurely. “Well now, Anne, don’t
2554you think you’d better do it and have it over with?” he whispered.
2555“It’ll have to be done sooner or later, you know, for Marilla’s a
2556dreadful deter-mined woman--dreadful determined, Anne. Do it right off,
2557I say, and have it over.”
2558
2559“Do you mean apologize to Mrs. Lynde?”
2560
2561“Yes--apologize--that’s the very word,” said Matthew eagerly. “Just
2562smooth it over so to speak. That’s what I was trying to get at.”
2563
2564“I suppose I could do it to oblige you,” said Anne thoughtfully. “It
2565would be true enough to say I am sorry, because I _am_ sorry now. I wasn’t
2566a bit sorry last night. I was mad clear through, and I stayed mad all
2567night. I know I did because I woke up three times and I was just
2568furious every time. But this morning it was over. I wasn’t in a temper
2569anymore--and it left a dreadful sort of goneness, too. I felt so ashamed
2570of myself. But I just couldn’t think of going and telling Mrs. Lynde
2571so. It would be so humiliating. I made up my mind I’d stay shut up here
2572forever rather than do that. But still--I’d do anything for you--if you
2573really want me to--”
2574
2575“Well now, of course I do. It’s terrible lonesome downstairs without
2576you. Just go and smooth things over--that’s a good girl.”
2577
2578“Very well,” said Anne resignedly. “I’ll tell Marilla as soon as she
2579comes in I’ve repented.”
2580
2581“That’s right--that’s right, Anne. But don’t tell Marilla I said
2582anything about it. She might think I was putting my oar in and I
2583promised not to do that.”
2584
2585“Wild horses won’t drag the secret from me,” promised Anne solemnly.
2586“How would wild horses drag a secret from a person anyhow?”
2587
2588But Matthew was gone, scared at his own success. He fled hastily to the
2589remotest corner of the horse pasture lest Marilla should suspect what
2590he had been up to. Marilla herself, upon her return to the house, was
2591agreeably surprised to hear a plaintive voice calling, “Marilla” over
2592the banisters.
2593
2594“Well?” she said, going into the hall.
2595
2596“I’m sorry I lost my temper and said rude things, and I’m willing to go
2597and tell Mrs. Lynde so.”
2598
2599“Very well.” Marilla’s crispness gave no sign of her relief. She had
2600been wondering what under the canopy she should do if Anne did not give
2601in. “I’ll take you down after milking.”
2602
2603Accordingly, after milking, behold Marilla and Anne walking down the
2604lane, the former erect and triumphant, the latter drooping and dejected.
2605But halfway down Anne’s dejection vanished as if by enchantment. She
2606lifted her head and stepped lightly along, her eyes fixed on the sunset
2607sky and an air of subdued exhilaration about her. Marilla beheld the
2608change disapprovingly. This was no meek penitent such as it behooved her
2609to take into the presence of the offended Mrs. Lynde.
2610
2611“What are you thinking of, Anne?” she asked sharply.
2612
2613“I’m imagining out what I must say to Mrs. Lynde,” answered Anne
2614dreamily.
2615
2616This was satisfactory--or should have been so. But Marilla could not
2617rid herself of the notion that something in her scheme of punishment was
2618going askew. Anne had no business to look so rapt and radiant.
2619
2620Rapt and radiant Anne continued until they were in the very presence
2621of Mrs. Lynde, who was sitting knitting by her kitchen window. Then the
2622radiance vanished. Mournful penitence appeared on every feature. Before
2623a word was spoken Anne suddenly went down on her knees before the
2624astonished Mrs. Rachel and held out her hands beseechingly.
2625
2626“Oh, Mrs. Lynde, I am so extremely sorry,” she said with a quiver in
2627her voice. “I could never express all my sorrow, no, not if I used up
2628a whole dictionary. You must just imagine it. I behaved terribly to
2629you--and I’ve disgraced the dear friends, Matthew and Marilla, who have
2630let me stay at Green Gables although I’m not a boy. I’m a dreadfully
2631wicked and ungrateful girl, and I deserve to be punished and cast out
2632by respectable people forever. It was very wicked of me to fly into a
2633temper because you told me the truth. It _was_ the truth; every word you
2634said was true. My hair is red and I’m freckled and skinny and ugly.
2635What I said to you was true, too, but I shouldn’t have said it. Oh, Mrs.
2636Lynde, please, please, forgive me. If you refuse it will be a lifelong
2637sorrow on a poor little orphan girl, would you, even if she had a
2638dreadful temper? Oh, I am sure you wouldn’t. Please say you forgive me,
2639Mrs. Lynde.”
2640
2641Anne clasped her hands together, bowed her head, and waited for the word
2642of judgment.
2643
2644There was no mistaking her sincerity--it breathed in every tone of her
2645voice. Both Marilla and Mrs. Lynde recognized its unmistakable ring.
2646But the former under-stood in dismay that Anne was actually enjoying
2647her valley of humiliation--was reveling in the thoroughness of her
2648abasement. Where was the wholesome punishment upon which she, Marilla,
2649had plumed herself? Anne had turned it into a species of positive
2650pleasure.
2651
2652Good Mrs. Lynde, not being overburdened with perception, did not see
2653this. She only perceived that Anne had made a very thorough apology and
2654all resentment vanished from her kindly, if somewhat officious, heart.
2655
2656“There, there, get up, child,” she said heartily. “Of course I forgive
2657you. I guess I was a little too hard on you, anyway. But I’m such an
2658outspoken person. You just mustn’t mind me, that’s what. It can’t be
2659denied your hair is terrible red; but I knew a girl once--went to school
2660with her, in fact--whose hair was every mite as red as yours when she
2661was young, but when she grew up it darkened to a real handsome auburn. I
2662wouldn’t be a mite surprised if yours did, too--not a mite.”
2663
2664“Oh, Mrs. Lynde!” Anne drew a long breath as she rose to her feet. “You
2665have given me a hope. I shall always feel that you are a benefactor. Oh,
2666I could endure anything if I only thought my hair would be a handsome
2667auburn when I grew up. It would be so much easier to be good if one’s
2668hair was a handsome auburn, don’t you think? And now may I go out into
2669your garden and sit on that bench under the apple-trees while you and
2670Marilla are talking? There is so much more scope for imagination out
2671there.”
2672
2673“Laws, yes, run along, child. And you can pick a bouquet of them white
2674June lilies over in the corner if you like.”
2675
2676As the door closed behind Anne Mrs. Lynde got briskly up to light a
2677lamp.
2678
2679“She’s a real odd little thing. Take this chair, Marilla; it’s easier
2680than the one you’ve got; I just keep that for the hired boy to sit
2681on. Yes, she certainly is an odd child, but there is something kind of
2682taking about her after all. I don’t feel so surprised at you and Matthew
2683keeping her as I did--nor so sorry for you, either. She may turn out all
2684right. Of course, she has a queer way of expressing herself--a little
2685too--well, too kind of forcible, you know; but she’ll likely get over
2686that now that she’s come to live among civilized folks. And then, her
2687temper’s pretty quick, I guess; but there’s one comfort, a child that
2688has a quick temper, just blaze up and cool down, ain’t never likely to
2689be sly or deceitful. Preserve me from a sly child, that’s what. On the
2690whole, Marilla, I kind of like her.”
2691
2692When Marilla went home Anne came out of the fragrant twilight of the
2693orchard with a sheaf of white narcissi in her hands.
2694
2695“I apologized pretty well, didn’t I?” she said proudly as they went
2696down the lane. “I thought since I had to do it I might as well do it
2697thoroughly.”
2698
2699“You did it thoroughly, all right enough,” was Marilla’s comment.
2700Marilla was dismayed at finding herself inclined to laugh over the
2701recollection. She had also an uneasy feeling that she ought to scold
2702Anne for apologizing so well; but then, that was ridiculous! She
2703compromised with her conscience by saying severely:
2704
2705“I hope you won’t have occasion to make many more such apologies. I hope
2706you’ll try to control your temper now, Anne.”
2707
2708“That wouldn’t be so hard if people wouldn’t twit me about my looks,”
2709 said Anne with a sigh. “I don’t get cross about other things; but I’m
2710_so_ tired of being twitted about my hair and it just makes me boil right
2711over. Do you suppose my hair will really be a handsome auburn when I
2712grow up?”
2713
2714“You shouldn’t think so much about your looks, Anne. I’m afraid you are
2715a very vain little girl.”
2716
2717“How can I be vain when I know I’m homely?” protested Anne. “I love
2718pretty things; and I hate to look in the glass and see something that
2719isn’t pretty. It makes me feel so sorrowful--just as I feel when I look
2720at any ugly thing. I pity it because it isn’t beautiful.”
2721
2722“Handsome is as handsome does,” quoted Marilla. “I’ve had that said
2723to me before, but I have my doubts about it,” remarked skeptical Anne,
2724sniffing at her narcissi. “Oh, aren’t these flowers sweet! It was lovely
2725of Mrs. Lynde to give them to me. I have no hard feelings against Mrs.
2726Lynde now. It gives you a lovely, comfortable feeling to apologize and
2727be forgiven, doesn’t it? Aren’t the stars bright tonight? If you could
2728live in a star, which one would you pick? I’d like that lovely clear big
2729one away over there above that dark hill.”
2730
2731“Anne, do hold your tongue,” said Marilla, thoroughly worn out trying to
2732follow the gyrations of Anne’s thoughts.
2733
2734Anne said no more until they turned into their own lane. A little gypsy
2735wind came down it to meet them, laden with the spicy perfume of young
2736dew-wet ferns. Far up in the shadows a cheerful light gleamed out
2737through the trees from the kitchen at Green Gables. Anne suddenly came
2738close to Marilla and slipped her hand into the older woman’s hard palm.
2739
2740“It’s lovely to be going home and know it’s home,” she said. “I love
2741Green Gables already, and I never loved any place before. No place ever
2742seemed like home. Oh, Marilla, I’m so happy. I could pray right now and
2743not find it a bit hard.”
2744
2745Something warm and pleasant welled up in Marilla’s heart at touch of
2746that thin little hand in her own--a throb of the maternity she had
2747missed, perhaps. Its very unaccustomedness and sweetness disturbed
2748her. She hastened to restore her sensations to their normal calm by
2749inculcating a moral.
2750
2751“If you’ll be a good girl you’ll always be happy, Anne. And you should
2752never find it hard to say your prayers.”
2753
2754“Saying one’s prayers isn’t exactly the same thing as praying,” said
2755Anne meditatively. “But I’m going to imagine that I’m the wind that is
2756blowing up there in those tree tops. When I get tired of the trees I’ll
2757imagine I’m gently waving down here in the ferns--and then I’ll fly over
2758to Mrs. Lynde’s garden and set the flowers dancing--and then I’ll go
2759with one great swoop over the clover field--and then I’ll blow over the
2760Lake of Shining Waters and ripple it all up into little sparkling waves.
2761Oh, there’s so much scope for imagination in a wind! So I’ll not talk
2762any more just now, Marilla.”
2763
2764“Thanks be to goodness for that,” breathed Marilla in devout relief.
2765
2766
2767
2768
2769CHAPTER XI. Anne’s Impressions of Sunday-School
2770
2771
2772|WELL, how do you like them?” said Marilla.
2773
2774Anne was standing in the gable room, looking solemnly at three new
2775dresses spread out on the bed. One was of snuffy colored gingham which
2776Marilla had been tempted to buy from a peddler the preceding summer
2777because it looked so serviceable; one was of black-and-white checkered
2778sateen which she had picked up at a bargain counter in the winter; and
2779one was a stiff print of an ugly blue shade which she had purchased that
2780week at a Carmody store.
2781
2782She had made them up herself, and they were all made alike--plain skirts
2783fulled tightly to plain waists, with sleeves as plain as waist and skirt
2784and tight as sleeves could be.
2785
2786“I’ll imagine that I like them,” said Anne soberly.
2787
2788“I don’t want you to imagine it,” said Marilla, offended. “Oh, I can see
2789you don’t like the dresses! What is the matter with them? Aren’t they
2790neat and clean and new?”
2791
2792“Yes.”
2793
2794“Then why don’t you like them?”
2795
2796“They’re--they’re not--pretty,” said Anne reluctantly.
2797
2798“Pretty!” Marilla sniffed. “I didn’t trouble my head about getting
2799pretty dresses for you. I don’t believe in pampering vanity, Anne, I’ll
2800tell you that right off. Those dresses are good, sensible, serviceable
2801dresses, without any frills or furbelows about them, and they’re all
2802you’ll get this summer. The brown gingham and the blue print will do
2803you for school when you begin to go. The sateen is for church and Sunday
2804school. I’ll expect you to keep them neat and clean and not to tear
2805them. I should think you’d be grateful to get most anything after those
2806skimpy wincey things you’ve been wearing.”
2807
2808“Oh, I _am_ grateful,” protested Anne. “But I’d be ever so much
2809gratefuller if--if you’d made just one of them with puffed sleeves.
2810Puffed sleeves are so fashionable now. It would give me such a thrill,
2811Marilla, just to wear a dress with puffed sleeves.”
2812
2813“Well, you’ll have to do without your thrill. I hadn’t any material
2814to waste on puffed sleeves. I think they are ridiculous-looking things
2815anyhow. I prefer the plain, sensible ones.”
2816
2817“But I’d rather look ridiculous when everybody else does than plain and
2818sensible all by myself,” persisted Anne mournfully.
2819
2820“Trust you for that! Well, hang those dresses carefully up in your
2821closet, and then sit down and learn the Sunday school lesson. I got
2822a quarterly from Mr. Bell for you and you’ll go to Sunday school
2823tomorrow,” said Marilla, disappearing downstairs in high dudgeon.
2824
2825Anne clasped her hands and looked at the dresses.
2826
2827“I did hope there would be a white one with puffed sleeves,” she
2828whispered disconsolately. “I prayed for one, but I didn’t much expect it
2829on that account. I didn’t suppose God would have time to bother about
2830a little orphan girl’s dress. I knew I’d just have to depend on
2831Marilla for it. Well, fortunately I can imagine that one of them is of
2832snow-white muslin with lovely lace frills and three-puffed sleeves.”
2833
2834The next morning warnings of a sick headache prevented Marilla from
2835going to Sunday-school with Anne.
2836
2837“You’ll have to go down and call for Mrs. Lynde, Anne,” she said.
2838“She’ll see that you get into the right class. Now, mind you behave
2839yourself properly. Stay to preaching afterwards and ask Mrs. Lynde to
2840show you our pew. Here’s a cent for collection. Don’t stare at people
2841and don’t fidget. I shall expect you to tell me the text when you come
2842home.”
2843
2844Anne started off irreproachable, arrayed in the stiff black-and-white
2845sateen, which, while decent as regards length and certainly not open to
2846the charge of skimpiness, contrived to emphasize every corner and angle
2847of her thin figure. Her hat was a little, flat, glossy, new sailor, the
2848extreme plainness of which had likewise much disappointed Anne, who
2849had permitted herself secret visions of ribbon and flowers. The latter,
2850however, were supplied before Anne reached the main road, for being
2851confronted halfway down the lane with a golden frenzy of wind-stirred
2852buttercups and a glory of wild roses, Anne promptly and liberally
2853garlanded her hat with a heavy wreath of them. Whatever other people
2854might have thought of the result it satisfied Anne, and she tripped
2855gaily down the road, holding her ruddy head with its decoration of pink
2856and yellow very proudly.
2857
2858When she had reached Mrs. Lynde’s house she found that lady gone.
2859Nothing daunted, Anne proceeded onward to the church alone. In the porch
2860she found a crowd of little girls, all more or less gaily attired in
2861whites and blues and pinks, and all staring with curious eyes at this
2862stranger in their midst, with her extraordinary head adornment. Avonlea
2863little girls had already heard queer stories about Anne. Mrs. Lynde said
2864she had an awful temper; Jerry Buote, the hired boy at Green Gables,
2865said she talked all the time to herself or to the trees and flowers
2866like a crazy girl. They looked at her and whispered to each other behind
2867their quarterlies. Nobody made any friendly advances, then or later
2868on when the opening exercises were over and Anne found herself in Miss
2869Rogerson’s class.
2870
2871Miss Rogerson was a middle-aged lady who had taught a Sunday-school
2872class for twenty years. Her method of teaching was to ask the printed
2873questions from the quarterly and look sternly over its edge at the
2874particular little girl she thought ought to answer the question. She
2875looked very often at Anne, and Anne, thanks to Marilla’s drilling,
2876answered promptly; but it may be questioned if she understood very much
2877about either question or answer.
2878
2879She did not think she liked Miss Rogerson, and she felt very miserable;
2880every other little girl in the class had puffed sleeves. Anne felt that
2881life was really not worth living without puffed sleeves.
2882
2883“Well, how did you like Sunday school?” Marilla wanted to know when Anne
2884came home. Her wreath having faded, Anne had discarded it in the lane,
2885so Marilla was spared the knowledge of that for a time.
2886
2887“I didn’t like it a bit. It was horrid.”
2888
2889“Anne Shirley!” said Marilla rebukingly.
2890
2891Anne sat down on the rocker with a long sigh, kissed one of Bonny’s
2892leaves, and waved her hand to a blossoming fuchsia.
2893
2894“They might have been lonesome while I was away,” she explained. “And
2895now about the Sunday school. I behaved well, just as you told me. Mrs.
2896Lynde was gone, but I went right on myself. I went into the church, with
2897a lot of other little girls, and I sat in the corner of a pew by the
2898window while the opening exercises went on. Mr. Bell made an awfully
2899long prayer. I would have been dreadfully tired before he got through
2900if I hadn’t been sitting by that window. But it looked right out on the
2901Lake of Shining Waters, so I just gazed at that and imagined all sorts
2902of splendid things.”
2903
2904“You shouldn’t have done anything of the sort. You should have listened
2905to Mr. Bell.”
2906
2907“But he wasn’t talking to me,” protested Anne. “He was talking to God
2908and he didn’t seem to be very much inter-ested in it, either. I think
2909he thought God was too far off though. There was a long row of white
2910birches hanging over the lake and the sunshine fell down through
2911them, ‘way, ‘way down, deep into the water. Oh, Marilla, it was like a
2912beautiful dream! It gave me a thrill and I just said, ‘Thank you for it,
2913God,’ two or three times.”
2914
2915“Not out loud, I hope,” said Marilla anxiously.
2916
2917“Oh, no, just under my breath. Well, Mr. Bell did get through at last
2918and they told me to go into the classroom with Miss Rogerson’s class.
2919There were nine other girls in it. They all had puffed sleeves. I tried
2920to imagine mine were puffed, too, but I couldn’t. Why couldn’t I? It was
2921as easy as could be to imagine they were puffed when I was alone in
2922the east gable, but it was awfully hard there among the others who had
2923really truly puffs.”
2924
2925“You shouldn’t have been thinking about your sleeves in Sunday school.
2926You should have been attending to the lesson. I hope you knew it.”
2927
2928“Oh, yes; and I answered a lot of questions. Miss Rogerson asked ever so
2929many. I don’t think it was fair for her to do all the asking. There were
2930lots I wanted to ask her, but I didn’t like to because I didn’t think
2931she was a kindred spirit. Then all the other little girls recited a
2932paraphrase. She asked me if I knew any. I told her I didn’t, but I could
2933recite, ‘The Dog at His Master’s Grave’ if she liked. That’s in the
2934Third Royal Reader. It isn’t a really truly religious piece of poetry,
2935but it’s so sad and melancholy that it might as well be. She said it
2936wouldn’t do and she told me to learn the nineteenth paraphrase for next
2937Sunday. I read it over in church afterwards and it’s splendid. There are
2938two lines in particular that just thrill me.
2939
2940   “‘Quick as the slaughtered squadrons fell
2941   In Midian’s evil day.’
2942
2943“I don’t know what ‘squadrons’ means nor ‘Midian,’ either, but it sounds
2944_so_ tragical. I can hardly wait until next Sunday to recite it.
2945I’ll practice it all the week. After Sunday school I asked Miss
2946Rogerson--because Mrs. Lynde was too far away--to show me your pew.
2947I sat just as still as I could and the text was Revelations, third
2948chapter, second and third verses. It was a very long text. If I was a
2949minister I’d pick the short, snappy ones. The sermon was awfully long,
2950too. I suppose the minister had to match it to the text. I didn’t think
2951he was a bit interesting. The trouble with him seems to be that he
2952hasn’t enough imagination. I didn’t listen to him very much. I just let
2953my thoughts run and I thought of the most surprising things.”
2954
2955Marilla felt helplessly that all this should be sternly reproved, but
2956she was hampered by the undeniable fact that some of the things Anne had
2957said, especially about the minister’s sermons and Mr. Bell’s prayers,
2958were what she herself had really thought deep down in her heart for
2959years, but had never given expression to. It almost seemed to her that
2960those secret, unuttered, critical thoughts had suddenly taken visible
2961and accusing shape and form in the person of this outspoken morsel of
2962neglected humanity.
2963
2964
2965
2966
2967CHAPTER XII. A Solemn Vow and Promise
2968
2969
2970|IT was not until the next Friday that Marilla heard the story of the
2971flower-wreathed hat. She came home from Mrs. Lynde’s and called Anne to
2972account.
2973
2974“Anne, Mrs. Rachel says you went to church last Sunday with your hat
2975rigged out ridiculous with roses and buttercups. What on earth put you
2976up to such a caper? A pretty-looking object you must have been!”
2977
2978“Oh. I know pink and yellow aren’t becoming to me,” began Anne.
2979
2980“Becoming fiddlesticks! It was putting flowers on your hat at all,
2981no matter what color they were, that was ridiculous. You are the most
2982aggravating child!”
2983
2984“I don’t see why it’s any more ridiculous to wear flowers on your hat
2985than on your dress,” protested Anne. “Lots of little girls there had
2986bouquets pinned on their dresses. What’s the difference?”
2987
2988Marilla was not to be drawn from the safe concrete into dubious paths of
2989the abstract.
2990
2991“Don’t answer me back like that, Anne. It was very silly of you to do
2992such a thing. Never let me catch you at such a trick again. Mrs. Rachel
2993says she thought she would sink through the floor when she saw you come
2994in all rigged out like that. She couldn’t get near enough to tell you
2995to take them off till it was too late. She says people talked about it
2996something dreadful. Of course they would think I had no better sense
2997than to let you go decked out like that.”
2998
2999“Oh, I’m so sorry,” said Anne, tears welling into her eyes. “I never
3000thought you’d mind. The roses and buttercups were so sweet and pretty
3001I thought they’d look lovely on my hat. Lots of the little girls had
3002artificial flowers on their hats. I’m afraid I’m going to be a dreadful
3003trial to you. Maybe you’d better send me back to the asylum. That would
3004be terrible; I don’t think I could endure it; most likely I would go
3005into consumption; I’m so thin as it is, you see. But that would be
3006better than being a trial to you.”
3007
3008“Nonsense,” said Marilla, vexed at herself for having made the child
3009cry. “I don’t want to send you back to the asylum, I’m sure. All I want
3010is that you should behave like other little girls and not make yourself
3011ridiculous. Don’t cry any more. I’ve got some news for you. Diana Barry
3012came home this afternoon. I’m going up to see if I can borrow a skirt
3013pattern from Mrs. Barry, and if you like you can come with me and get
3014acquainted with Diana.”
3015
3016Anne rose to her feet, with clasped hands, the tears still glistening on
3017her cheeks; the dish towel she had been hemming slipped unheeded to the
3018floor.
3019
3020“Oh, Marilla, I’m frightened--now that it has come I’m actually
3021frightened. What if she shouldn’t like me! It would be the most tragical
3022disappointment of my life.”
3023
3024“Now, don’t get into a fluster. And I do wish you wouldn’t use such long
3025words. It sounds so funny in a little girl. I guess Diana ‘ll like you
3026well enough. It’s her mother you’ve got to reckon with. If she doesn’t
3027like you it won’t matter how much Diana does. If she has heard about
3028your outburst to Mrs. Lynde and going to church with buttercups round
3029your hat I don’t know what she’ll think of you. You must be polite and
3030well behaved, and don’t make any of your startling speeches. For pity’s
3031sake, if the child isn’t actually trembling!”
3032
3033Anne _was_ trembling. Her face was pale and tense.
3034
3035“Oh, Marilla, you’d be excited, too, if you were going to meet a little
3036girl you hoped to be your bosom friend and whose mother mightn’t like
3037you,” she said as she hastened to get her hat.
3038
3039They went over to Orchard Slope by the short cut across the brook and up
3040the firry hill grove. Mrs. Barry came to the kitchen door in answer to
3041Marilla’s knock. She was a tall black-eyed, black-haired woman, with a
3042very resolute mouth. She had the reputation of being very strict with
3043her children.
3044
3045“How do you do, Marilla?” she said cordially. “Come in. And this is the
3046little girl you have adopted, I suppose?”
3047
3048“Yes, this is Anne Shirley,” said Marilla.
3049
3050“Spelled with an E,” gasped Anne, who, tremulous and excited as she was,
3051was determined there should be no misunderstanding on that important
3052point.
3053
3054Mrs. Barry, not hearing or not comprehending, merely shook hands and
3055said kindly:
3056
3057“How are you?”
3058
3059“I am well in body although considerable rumpled up in spirit, thank you
3060ma’am,” said Anne gravely. Then aside to Marilla in an audible whisper,
3061“There wasn’t anything startling in that, was there, Marilla?”
3062
3063Diana was sitting on the sofa, reading a book which she dropped when the
3064callers entered. She was a very pretty little girl, with her mother’s
3065black eyes and hair, and rosy cheeks, and the merry expression which was
3066her inheritance from her father.
3067
3068“This is my little girl Diana,” said Mrs. Barry. “Diana, you might take
3069Anne out into the garden and show her your flowers. It will be better
3070for you than straining your eyes over that book. She reads entirely
3071too much--” this to Marilla as the little girls went out--“and I can’t
3072prevent her, for her father aids and abets her. She’s always poring over
3073a book. I’m glad she has the prospect of a playmate--perhaps it will
3074take her more out-of-doors.”
3075
3076Outside in the garden, which was full of mellow sunset light streaming
3077through the dark old firs to the west of it, stood Anne and Diana,
3078gazing bashfully at each other over a clump of gorgeous tiger lilies.
3079
3080The Barry garden was a bowery wilderness of flowers which would have
3081delighted Anne’s heart at any time less fraught with destiny. It was
3082encircled by huge old willows and tall firs, beneath which flourished
3083flowers that loved the shade. Prim, right-angled paths neatly bordered
3084with clamshells, intersected it like moist red ribbons and in the beds
3085between old-fashioned flowers ran riot. There were rosy bleeding-hearts
3086and great splendid crimson peonies; white, fragrant narcissi and thorny,
3087sweet Scotch roses; pink and blue and white columbines and lilac-tinted
3088Bouncing Bets; clumps of southernwood and ribbon grass and mint; purple
3089Adam-and-Eve, daffodils, and masses of sweet clover white with its
3090delicate, fragrant, feathery sprays; scarlet lightning that shot
3091its fiery lances over prim white musk-flowers; a garden it was where
3092sunshine lingered and bees hummed, and winds, beguiled into loitering,
3093purred and rustled.
3094
3095“Oh, Diana,” said Anne at last, clasping her hands and speaking almost
3096in a whisper, “oh, do you think you can like me a little--enough to be
3097my bosom friend?”
3098
3099Diana laughed. Diana always laughed before she spoke.
3100
3101“Why, I guess so,” she said frankly. “I’m awfully glad you’ve come to
3102live at Green Gables. It will be jolly to have somebody to play with.
3103There isn’t any other girl who lives near enough to play with, and I’ve
3104no sisters big enough.”
3105
3106“Will you swear to be my friend forever and ever?” demanded Anne
3107eagerly.
3108
3109Diana looked shocked.
3110
3111“Why it’s dreadfully wicked to swear,” she said rebukingly.
3112
3113“Oh no, not my kind of swearing. There are two kinds, you know.”
3114
3115“I never heard of but one kind,” said Diana doubtfully.
3116
3117“There really is another. Oh, it isn’t wicked at all. It just means
3118vowing and promising solemnly.”
3119
3120“Well, I don’t mind doing that,” agreed Diana, relieved. “How do you do
3121it?”
3122
3123“We must join hands--so,” said Anne gravely. “It ought to be over
3124running water. We’ll just imagine this path is running water. I’ll
3125repeat the oath first. I solemnly swear to be faithful to my bosom
3126friend, Diana Barry, as long as the sun and moon shall endure. Now you
3127say it and put my name in.”
3128
3129Diana repeated the “oath” with a laugh fore and aft. Then she said:
3130
3131“You’re a queer girl, Anne. I heard before that you were queer. But I
3132believe I’m going to like you real well.”
3133
3134When Marilla and Anne went home Diana went with them as far as the log
3135bridge. The two little girls walked with their arms about each other.
3136At the brook they parted with many promises to spend the next afternoon
3137together.
3138
3139“Well, did you find Diana a kindred spirit?” asked Marilla as they went
3140up through the garden of Green Gables.
3141
3142“Oh yes,” sighed Anne, blissfully unconscious of any sarcasm on
3143Marilla’s part. “Oh Marilla, I’m the happiest girl on Prince Edward
3144Island this very moment. I assure you I’ll say my prayers with a right
3145good-will tonight. Diana and I are going to build a playhouse in Mr.
3146William Bell’s birch grove tomorrow. Can I have those broken pieces of
3147china that are out in the woodshed? Diana’s birthday is in February and
3148mine is in March. Don’t you think that is a very strange coincidence?
3149Diana is going to lend me a book to read. She says it’s perfectly
3150splendid and tremendously exciting. She’s going to show me a place back
3151in the woods where rice lilies grow. Don’t you think Diana has got very
3152soulful eyes? I wish I had soulful eyes. Diana is going to teach me to
3153sing a song called ‘Nelly in the Hazel Dell.’ She’s going to give me a
3154picture to put up in my room; it’s a perfectly beautiful picture, she
3155says--a lovely lady in a pale blue silk dress. A sewing-machine agent
3156gave it to her. I wish I had something to give Diana. I’m an inch taller
3157than Diana, but she is ever so much fatter; she says she’d like to be
3158thin because it’s so much more graceful, but I’m afraid she only said
3159it to soothe my feelings. We’re going to the shore some day to gather
3160shells. We have agreed to call the spring down by the log bridge the
3161Dryad’s Bubble. Isn’t that a perfectly elegant name? I read a story
3162once about a spring called that. A dryad is sort of a grown-up fairy, I
3163think.”
3164
3165“Well, all I hope is you won’t talk Diana to death,” said Marilla. “But
3166remember this in all your planning, Anne. You’re not going to play all
3167the time nor most of it. You’ll have your work to do and it’ll have to
3168be done first.”
3169
3170Anne’s cup of happiness was full, and Matthew caused it to overflow. He
3171had just got home from a trip to the store at Carmody, and he sheepishly
3172produced a small parcel from his pocket and handed it to Anne, with a
3173deprecatory look at Marilla.
3174
3175“I heard you say you liked chocolate sweeties, so I got you some,” he
3176said.
3177
3178“Humph,” sniffed Marilla. “It’ll ruin her teeth and stomach. There,
3179there, child, don’t look so dismal. You can eat those, since Matthew
3180has gone and got them. He’d better have brought you peppermints. They’re
3181wholesomer. Don’t sicken yourself eating all them at once now.”
3182
3183“Oh, no, indeed, I won’t,” said Anne eagerly. “I’ll just eat one
3184tonight, Marilla. And I can give Diana half of them, can’t I? The
3185other half will taste twice as sweet to me if I give some to her. It’s
3186delightful to think I have something to give her.”
3187
3188“I will say it for the child,” said Marilla when Anne had gone to
3189her gable, “she isn’t stingy. I’m glad, for of all faults I detest
3190stinginess in a child. Dear me, it’s only three weeks since she came,
3191and it seems as if she’d been here always. I can’t imagine the place
3192without her. Now, don’t be looking I told-you-so, Matthew. That’s bad
3193enough in a woman, but it isn’t to be endured in a man. I’m perfectly
3194willing to own up that I’m glad I consented to keep the child and that
3195I’m getting fond of her, but don’t you rub it in, Matthew Cuthbert.”
3196
3197
3198
3199CHAPTER XIII. The Delights of Anticipation
3200
3201
3202|IT’S time Anne was in to do her sewing,” said Marilla, glancing at the
3203clock and then out into the yellow August afternoon where everything
3204drowsed in the heat. “She stayed playing with Diana more than half an
3205hour more ‘n I gave her leave to; and now she’s perched out there on
3206the woodpile talking to Matthew, nineteen to the dozen, when she knows
3207perfectly well she ought to be at her work. And of course he’s listening
3208to her like a perfect ninny. I never saw such an infatuated man.
3209The more she talks and the odder the things she says, the more he’s
3210delighted evidently. Anne Shirley, you come right in here this minute,
3211do you hear me!”
3212
3213A series of staccato taps on the west window brought Anne flying in from
3214the yard, eyes shining, cheeks faintly flushed with pink, unbraided hair
3215streaming behind her in a torrent of brightness.
3216
3217“Oh, Marilla,” she exclaimed breathlessly, “there’s going to be a
3218Sunday-school picnic next week--in Mr. Harmon Andrews’s field, right
3219near the lake of Shining Waters. And Mrs. Superintendent Bell and Mrs.
3220Rachel Lynde are going to make ice cream--think of it, Marilla--_ice
3221cream!_ And, oh, Marilla, can I go to it?”
3222
3223“Just look at the clock, if you please, Anne. What time did I tell you
3224to come in?”
3225
3226“Two o’clock--but isn’t it splendid about the picnic, Marilla? Please
3227can I go? Oh, I’ve never been to a picnic--I’ve dreamed of picnics, but
3228I’ve never--”
3229
3230“Yes, I told you to come at two o’clock. And it’s a quarter to three.
3231I’d like to know why you didn’t obey me, Anne.”
3232
3233“Why, I meant to, Marilla, as much as could be. But you have no idea
3234how fascinating Idlewild is. And then, of course, I had to tell Matthew
3235about the picnic. Matthew is such a sympathetic listener. Please can I
3236go?”
3237
3238“You’ll have to learn to resist the fascination of
3239Idle-whatever-you-call-it. When I tell you to come in at a certain time
3240I mean that time and not half an hour later. And you needn’t stop to
3241discourse with sympathetic listeners on your way, either. As for the
3242picnic, of course you can go. You’re a Sunday-school scholar, and it’s
3243not likely I’d refuse to let you go when all the other little girls are
3244going.”
3245
3246“But--but,” faltered Anne, “Diana says that everybody must take a basket
3247of things to eat. I can’t cook, as you know, Marilla, and--and--I don’t
3248mind going to a picnic without puffed sleeves so much, but I’d feel
3249terribly humiliated if I had to go without a basket. It’s been preying
3250on my mind ever since Diana told me.”
3251
3252“Well, it needn’t prey any longer. I’ll bake you a basket.”
3253
3254“Oh, you dear good Marilla. Oh, you are so kind to me. Oh, I’m so much
3255obliged to you.”
3256
3257Getting through with her “ohs” Anne cast herself into Marilla’s arms and
3258rapturously kissed her sallow cheek. It was the first time in her whole
3259life that childish lips had voluntarily touched Marilla’s face. Again
3260that sudden sensation of startling sweetness thrilled her. She was
3261secretly vastly pleased at Anne’s impulsive caress, which was probably
3262the reason why she said brusquely:
3263
3264“There, there, never mind your kissing nonsense. I’d sooner see you
3265doing strictly as you’re told. As for cooking, I mean to begin giving
3266you lessons in that some of these days. But you’re so featherbrained,
3267Anne, I’ve been waiting to see if you’d sober down a little and learn
3268to be steady before I begin. You’ve got to keep your wits about you in
3269cooking and not stop in the middle of things to let your thoughts rove
3270all over creation. Now, get out your patchwork and have your square done
3271before teatime.”
3272
3273“I do _not_ like patchwork,” said Anne dolefully, hunting out her
3274workbasket and sitting down before a little heap of red and white
3275diamonds with a sigh. “I think some kinds of sewing would be nice; but
3276there’s no scope for imagination in patchwork. It’s just one little seam
3277after another and you never seem to be getting anywhere. But of course
3278I’d rather be Anne of Green Gables sewing patchwork than Anne of any
3279other place with nothing to do but play. I wish time went as quick
3280sewing patches as it does when I’m playing with Diana, though. Oh, we
3281do have such elegant times, Marilla. I have to furnish most of the
3282imagination, but I’m well able to do that. Diana is simply perfect in
3283every other way. You know that little piece of land across the brook
3284that runs up between our farm and Mr. Barry’s. It belongs to Mr. William
3285Bell, and right in the corner there is a little ring of white birch
3286trees--the most romantic spot, Marilla. Diana and I have our playhouse
3287there. We call it Idlewild. Isn’t that a poetical name? I assure you it
3288took me some time to think it out. I stayed awake nearly a whole night
3289before I invented it. Then, just as I was dropping off to sleep, it came
3290like an inspiration. Diana was _enraptured_ when she heard it. We have got
3291our house fixed up elegantly. You must come and see it, Marilla--won’t
3292you? We have great big stones, all covered with moss, for seats, and
3293boards from tree to tree for shelves. And we have all our dishes on
3294them. Of course, they’re all broken but it’s the easiest thing in the
3295world to imagine that they are whole. There’s a piece of a plate with a
3296spray of red and yellow ivy on it that is especially beautiful. We keep
3297it in the parlor and we have the fairy glass there, too. The fairy glass
3298is as lovely as a dream. Diana found it out in the woods behind their
3299chicken house. It’s all full of rainbows--just little young rainbows
3300that haven’t grown big yet--and Diana’s mother told her it was broken
3301off a hanging lamp they once had. But it’s nice to imagine the fairies
3302lost it one night when they had a ball, so we call it the fairy glass.
3303Matthew is going to make us a table. Oh, we have named that little round
3304pool over in Mr. Barry’s field Willowmere. I got that name out of the
3305book Diana lent me. That was a thrilling book, Marilla. The heroine
3306had five lovers. I’d be satisfied with one, wouldn’t you? She was very
3307handsome and she went through great tribulations. She could faint as
3308easy as anything. I’d love to be able to faint, wouldn’t you, Marilla?
3309It’s so romantic. But I’m really very healthy for all I’m so thin. I
3310believe I’m getting fatter, though. Don’t you think I am? I look at my
3311elbows every morning when I get up to see if any dimples are coming.
3312Diana is having a new dress made with elbow sleeves. She is going to
3313wear it to the picnic. Oh, I do hope it will be fine next Wednesday. I
3314don’t feel that I could endure the disappointment if anything happened
3315to prevent me from getting to the picnic. I suppose I’d live through it,
3316but I’m certain it would be a lifelong sorrow. It wouldn’t matter if
3317I got to a hundred picnics in after years; they wouldn’t make up for
3318missing this one. They’re going to have boats on the Lake of Shining
3319Waters--and ice cream, as I told you. I have never tasted ice cream.
3320Diana tried to explain what it was like, but I guess ice cream is one of
3321those things that are beyond imagination.”
3322
3323“Anne, you have talked even on for ten minutes by the clock,” said
3324Marilla. “Now, just for curiosity’s sake, see if you can hold your
3325tongue for the same length of time.”
3326
3327Anne held her tongue as desired. But for the rest of the week she talked
3328picnic and thought picnic and dreamed picnic. On Saturday it rained and
3329she worked herself up into such a frantic state lest it should keep
3330on raining until and over Wednesday that Marilla made her sew an extra
3331patchwork square by way of steadying her nerves.
3332
3333On Sunday Anne confided to Marilla on the way home from church that she
3334grew actually cold all over with excitement when the minister announced
3335the picnic from the pulpit.
3336
3337“Such a thrill as went up and down my back, Marilla! I don’t think I’d
3338ever really believed until then that there was honestly going to be
3339a picnic. I couldn’t help fearing I’d only imagined it. But when a
3340minister says a thing in the pulpit you just have to believe it.”
3341
3342“You set your heart too much on things, Anne,” said Marilla, with a
3343sigh. “I’m afraid there’ll be a great many disappointments in store for
3344you through life.”
3345
3346“Oh, Marilla, looking forward to things is half the pleasure of them,”
3347 exclaimed Anne. “You mayn’t get the things themselves; but nothing can
3348prevent you from having the fun of looking forward to them. Mrs.
3349Lynde says, ‘Blessed are they who expect nothing for they shall not be
3350disappointed.’ But I think it would be worse to expect nothing than to
3351be disappointed.”
3352
3353Marilla wore her amethyst brooch to church that day as usual. Marilla
3354always wore her amethyst brooch to church. She would have thought it
3355rather sacrilegious to leave it off--as bad as forgetting her Bible or
3356her collection dime. That amethyst brooch was Marilla’s most treasured
3357possession. A seafaring uncle had given it to her mother who in turn
3358had bequeathed it to Marilla. It was an old-fashioned oval, containing
3359a braid of her mother’s hair, surrounded by a border of very fine
3360amethysts. Marilla knew too little about precious stones to realize how
3361fine the amethysts actually were; but she thought them very beautiful
3362and was always pleasantly conscious of their violet shimmer at her
3363throat, above her good brown satin dress, even although she could not
3364see it.
3365
3366Anne had been smitten with delighted admiration when she first saw that
3367brooch.
3368
3369“Oh, Marilla, it’s a perfectly elegant brooch. I don’t know how you
3370can pay attention to the sermon or the prayers when you have it on. I
3371couldn’t, I know. I think amethysts are just sweet. They are what I used
3372to think diamonds were like. Long ago, before I had ever seen a diamond,
3373I read about them and I tried to imagine what they would be like. I
3374thought they would be lovely glimmering purple stones. When I saw a
3375real diamond in a lady’s ring one day I was so disappointed I cried. Of
3376course, it was very lovely but it wasn’t my idea of a diamond. Will you
3377let me hold the brooch for one minute, Marilla? Do you think amethysts
3378can be the souls of good violets?”
3379
3380
3381
3382
3383CHAPTER XIV. Anne’s Confession
3384
3385
3386|ON the Monday evening before the picnic Marilla came down from her room
3387with a troubled face.
3388
3389“Anne,” she said to that small personage, who was shelling peas by the
3390spotless table and singing, “Nelly of the Hazel Dell” with a vigor and
3391expression that did credit to Diana’s teaching, “did you see anything
3392of my amethyst brooch? I thought I stuck it in my pincushion when I came
3393home from church yesterday evening, but I can’t find it anywhere.”
3394
3395“I--I saw it this afternoon when you were away at the Aid Society,” said
3396Anne, a little slowly. “I was passing your door when I saw it on the
3397cushion, so I went in to look at it.”
3398
3399“Did you touch it?” said Marilla sternly.
3400
3401“Y-e-e-s,” admitted Anne, “I took it up and I pinned it on my breast
3402just to see how it would look.”
3403
3404“You had no business to do anything of the sort. It’s very wrong in a
3405little girl to meddle. You shouldn’t have gone into my room in the first
3406place and you shouldn’t have touched a brooch that didn’t belong to you
3407in the second. Where did you put it?”
3408
3409“Oh, I put it back on the bureau. I hadn’t it on a minute. Truly, I
3410didn’t mean to meddle, Marilla. I didn’t think about its being wrong to
3411go in and try on the brooch; but I see now that it was and I’ll never
3412do it again. That’s one good thing about me. I never do the same naughty
3413thing twice.”
3414
3415“You didn’t put it back,” said Marilla. “That brooch isn’t anywhere on
3416the bureau. You’ve taken it out or something, Anne.”
3417
3418“I did put it back,” said Anne quickly--pertly, Marilla thought. “I
3419don’t just remember whether I stuck it on the pincushion or laid it in
3420the china tray. But I’m perfectly certain I put it back.”
3421
3422“I’ll go and have another look,” said Marilla, determining to be just.
3423“If you put that brooch back it’s there still. If it isn’t I’ll know you
3424didn’t, that’s all!”
3425
3426Marilla went to her room and made a thorough search, not only over the
3427bureau but in every other place she thought the brooch might possibly
3428be. It was not to be found and she returned to the kitchen.
3429
3430“Anne, the brooch is gone. By your own admission you were the last
3431person to handle it. Now, what have you done with it? Tell me the truth
3432at once. Did you take it out and lose it?”
3433
3434“No, I didn’t,” said Anne solemnly, meeting Marilla’s angry gaze
3435squarely. “I never took the brooch out of your room and that is the
3436truth, if I was to be led to the block for it--although I’m not very
3437certain what a block is. So there, Marilla.”
3438
3439Anne’s “so there” was only intended to emphasize her assertion, but
3440Marilla took it as a display of defiance.
3441
3442“I believe you are telling me a falsehood, Anne,” she said sharply. “I
3443know you are. There now, don’t say anything more unless you are prepared
3444to tell the whole truth. Go to your room and stay there until you are
3445ready to confess.”
3446
3447“Will I take the peas with me?” said Anne meekly.
3448
3449“No, I’ll finish shelling them myself. Do as I bid you.”
3450
3451When Anne had gone Marilla went about her evening tasks in a very
3452disturbed state of mind. She was worried about her valuable brooch. What
3453if Anne had lost it? And how wicked of the child to deny having taken
3454it, when anybody could see she must have! With such an innocent face,
3455too!
3456
3457“I don’t know what I wouldn’t sooner have had happen,” thought Marilla,
3458as she nervously shelled the peas. “Of course, I don’t suppose she meant
3459to steal it or anything like that. She’s just taken it to play with
3460or help along that imagination of hers. She must have taken it, that’s
3461clear, for there hasn’t been a soul in that room since she was in it, by
3462her own story, until I went up tonight. And the brooch is gone, there’s
3463nothing surer. I suppose she has lost it and is afraid to own up for
3464fear she’ll be punished. It’s a dreadful thing to think she tells
3465falsehoods. It’s a far worse thing than her fit of temper. It’s a
3466fearful responsibility to have a child in your house you can’t trust.
3467Slyness and untruthfulness--that’s what she has displayed. I declare I
3468feel worse about that than about the brooch. If she’d only have told the
3469truth about it I wouldn’t mind so much.”
3470
3471Marilla went to her room at intervals all through the evening and
3472searched for the brooch, without finding it. A bedtime visit to the
3473east gable produced no result. Anne persisted in denying that she knew
3474anything about the brooch but Marilla was only the more firmly convinced
3475that she did.
3476
3477She told Matthew the story the next morning. Matthew was confounded and
3478puzzled; he could not so quickly lose faith in Anne but he had to admit
3479that circumstances were against her.
3480
3481“You’re sure it hasn’t fell down behind the bureau?” was the only
3482suggestion he could offer.
3483
3484“I’ve moved the bureau and I’ve taken out the drawers and I’ve looked
3485in every crack and cranny” was Marilla’s positive answer. “The brooch
3486is gone and that child has taken it and lied about it. That’s the plain,
3487ugly truth, Matthew Cuthbert, and we might as well look it in the face.”
3488
3489“Well now, what are you going to do about it?” Matthew asked forlornly,
3490feeling secretly thankful that Marilla and not he had to deal with the
3491situation. He felt no desire to put his oar in this time.
3492
3493“She’ll stay in her room until she confesses,” said Marilla grimly,
3494remembering the success of this method in the former case. “Then we’ll
3495see. Perhaps we’ll be able to find the brooch if she’ll only tell
3496where she took it; but in any case she’ll have to be severely punished,
3497Matthew.”
3498
3499“Well now, you’ll have to punish her,” said Matthew, reaching for his
3500hat. “I’ve nothing to do with it, remember. You warned me off yourself.”
3501
3502Marilla felt deserted by everyone. She could not even go to Mrs. Lynde
3503for advice. She went up to the east gable with a very serious face and
3504left it with a face more serious still. Anne steadfastly refused to
3505confess. She persisted in asserting that she had not taken the brooch.
3506The child had evidently been crying and Marilla felt a pang of pity
3507which she sternly repressed. By night she was, as she expressed it,
3508“beat out.”
3509
3510“You’ll stay in this room until you confess, Anne. You can make up your
3511mind to that,” she said firmly.
3512
3513“But the picnic is tomorrow, Marilla,” cried Anne. “You won’t keep me
3514from going to that, will you? You’ll just let me out for the afternoon,
3515won’t you? Then I’ll stay here as long as you like _afterwards_
3516cheerfully. But I _must_ go to the picnic.”
3517
3518“You’ll not go to picnics nor anywhere else until you’ve confessed,
3519Anne.”
3520
3521“Oh, Marilla,” gasped Anne.
3522
3523But Marilla had gone out and shut the door.
3524
3525Wednesday morning dawned as bright and fair as if expressly made to
3526order for the picnic. Birds sang around Green Gables; the Madonna lilies
3527in the garden sent out whiffs of perfume that entered in on viewless
3528winds at every door and window, and wandered through halls and rooms
3529like spirits of benediction. The birches in the hollow waved joyful
3530hands as if watching for Anne’s usual morning greeting from the east
3531gable. But Anne was not at her window. When Marilla took her breakfast
3532up to her she found the child sitting primly on her bed, pale and
3533resolute, with tight-shut lips and gleaming eyes.
3534
3535“Marilla, I’m ready to confess.”
3536
3537“Ah!” Marilla laid down her tray. Once again her method had succeeded;
3538but her success was very bitter to her. “Let me hear what you have to
3539say then, Anne.”
3540
3541“I took the amethyst brooch,” said Anne, as if repeating a lesson she
3542had learned. “I took it just as you said. I didn’t mean to take it when
3543I went in. But it did look so beautiful, Marilla, when I pinned it on my
3544breast that I was overcome by an irresistible temptation. I imagined how
3545perfectly thrilling it would be to take it to Idlewild and play I was
3546the Lady Cordelia Fitzgerald. It would be so much easier to imagine I
3547was the Lady Cordelia if I had a real amethyst brooch on. Diana and
3548I make necklaces of roseberries but what are roseberries compared to
3549amethysts? So I took the brooch. I thought I could put it back before
3550you came home. I went all the way around by the road to lengthen out the
3551time. When I was going over the bridge across the Lake of Shining Waters
3552I took the brooch off to have another look at it. Oh, how it did shine
3553in the sunlight! And then, when I was leaning over the bridge, it
3554just slipped through my fingers--so--and went down--down--down, all
3555purply-sparkling, and sank forevermore beneath the Lake of Shining
3556Waters. And that’s the best I can do at confessing, Marilla.”
3557
3558Marilla felt hot anger surge up into her heart again. This child had
3559taken and lost her treasured amethyst brooch and now sat there calmly
3560reciting the details thereof without the least apparent compunction or
3561repentance.
3562
3563“Anne, this is terrible,” she said, trying to speak calmly. “You are the
3564very wickedest girl I ever heard of.”
3565
3566“Yes, I suppose I am,” agreed Anne tranquilly. “And I know I’ll have to
3567be punished. It’ll be your duty to punish me, Marilla. Won’t you please
3568get it over right off because I’d like to go to the picnic with nothing
3569on my mind.”
3570
3571“Picnic, indeed! You’ll go to no picnic today, Anne Shirley. That shall
3572be your punishment. And it isn’t half severe enough either for what
3573you’ve done!”
3574
3575“Not go to the picnic!” Anne sprang to her feet and clutched Marilla’s
3576hand. “But you _promised_ me I might! Oh, Marilla, I must go to the
3577picnic. That was why I confessed. Punish me any way you like but that.
3578Oh, Marilla, please, please, let me go to the picnic. Think of the ice
3579cream! For anything you know I may never have a chance to taste ice
3580cream again.”
3581
3582Marilla disengaged Anne’s clinging hands stonily.
3583
3584“You needn’t plead, Anne. You are not going to the picnic and that’s
3585final. No, not a word.”
3586
3587Anne realized that Marilla was not to be moved. She clasped her hands
3588together, gave a piercing shriek, and then flung herself face
3589downward on the bed, crying and writhing in an utter abandonment of
3590disappointment and despair.
3591
3592“For the land’s sake!” gasped Marilla, hastening from the room. “I
3593believe the child is crazy. No child in her senses would behave as she
3594does. If she isn’t she’s utterly bad. Oh dear, I’m afraid Rachel was
3595right from the first. But I’ve put my hand to the plow and I won’t look
3596back.”
3597
3598That was a dismal morning. Marilla worked fiercely and scrubbed the
3599porch floor and the dairy shelves when she could find nothing else to
3600do. Neither the shelves nor the porch needed it--but Marilla did. Then
3601she went out and raked the yard.
3602
3603When dinner was ready she went to the stairs and called Anne. A
3604tear-stained face appeared, looking tragically over the banisters.
3605
3606“Come down to your dinner, Anne.”
3607
3608“I don’t want any dinner, Marilla,” said Anne, sobbingly. “I couldn’t
3609eat anything. My heart is broken. You’ll feel remorse of conscience
3610someday, I expect, for breaking it, Marilla, but I forgive you. Remember
3611when the time comes that I forgive you. But please don’t ask me to eat
3612anything, especially boiled pork and greens. Boiled pork and greens are
3613so unromantic when one is in affliction.”
3614
3615Exasperated, Marilla returned to the kitchen and poured out her tale
3616of woe to Matthew, who, between his sense of justice and his unlawful
3617sympathy with Anne, was a miserable man.
3618
3619“Well now, she shouldn’t have taken the brooch, Marilla, or told stories
3620about it,” he admitted, mournfully surveying his plateful of unromantic
3621pork and greens as if he, like Anne, thought it a food unsuited to
3622crises of feeling, “but she’s such a little thing--such an interesting
3623little thing. Don’t you think it’s pretty rough not to let her go to the
3624picnic when she’s so set on it?”
3625
3626“Matthew Cuthbert, I’m amazed at you. I think I’ve let her off entirely
3627too easy. And she doesn’t appear to realize how wicked she’s been at
3628all--that’s what worries me most. If she’d really felt sorry it wouldn’t
3629be so bad. And you don’t seem to realize it, neither; you’re making
3630excuses for her all the time to yourself--I can see that.”
3631
3632“Well now, she’s such a little thing,” feebly reiterated Matthew. “And
3633there should be allowances made, Marilla. You know she’s never had any
3634bringing up.”
3635
3636“Well, she’s having it now” retorted Marilla.
3637
3638The retort silenced Matthew if it did not convince him. That dinner was
3639a very dismal meal. The only cheerful thing about it was Jerry Buote,
3640the hired boy, and Marilla resented his cheerfulness as a personal
3641insult.
3642
3643When her dishes were washed and her bread sponge set and her hens fed
3644Marilla remembered that she had noticed a small rent in her best black
3645lace shawl when she had taken it off on Monday afternoon on returning
3646from the Ladies’ Aid.
3647
3648She would go and mend it. The shawl was in a box in her trunk. As
3649Marilla lifted it out, the sunlight, falling through the vines that
3650clustered thickly about the window, struck upon something caught in the
3651shawl--something that glittered and sparkled in facets of violet light.
3652Marilla snatched at it with a gasp. It was the amethyst brooch, hanging
3653to a thread of the lace by its catch!
3654
3655“Dear life and heart,” said Marilla blankly, “what does this mean?
3656Here’s my brooch safe and sound that I thought was at the bottom of
3657Barry’s pond. Whatever did that girl mean by saying she took it and lost
3658it? I declare I believe Green Gables is bewitched. I remember now that
3659when I took off my shawl Monday afternoon I laid it on the bureau for a
3660minute. I suppose the brooch got caught in it somehow. Well!”
3661
3662Marilla betook herself to the east gable, brooch in hand. Anne had cried
3663herself out and was sitting dejectedly by the window.
3664
3665“Anne Shirley,” said Marilla solemnly, “I’ve just found my brooch
3666hanging to my black lace shawl. Now I want to know what that rigmarole
3667you told me this morning meant.”
3668
3669“Why, you said you’d keep me here until I confessed,” returned Anne
3670wearily, “and so I decided to confess because I was bound to get to the
3671picnic. I thought out a confession last night after I went to bed and
3672made it as interesting as I could. And I said it over and over so that I
3673wouldn’t forget it. But you wouldn’t let me go to the picnic after all,
3674so all my trouble was wasted.”
3675
3676Marilla had to laugh in spite of herself. But her conscience pricked
3677her.
3678
3679“Anne, you do beat all! But I was wrong--I see that now. I shouldn’t
3680have doubted your word when I’d never known you to tell a story.
3681Of course, it wasn’t right for you to confess to a thing you hadn’t
3682done--it was very wrong to do so. But I drove you to it. So if you’ll
3683forgive me, Anne, I’ll forgive you and we’ll start square again. And now
3684get yourself ready for the picnic.”
3685
3686Anne flew up like a rocket.
3687
3688“Oh, Marilla, isn’t it too late?”
3689
3690“No, it’s only two o’clock. They won’t be more than well gathered yet
3691and it’ll be an hour before they have tea. Wash your face and comb your
3692hair and put on your gingham. I’ll fill a basket for you. There’s plenty
3693of stuff baked in the house. And I’ll get Jerry to hitch up the sorrel
3694and drive you down to the picnic ground.”
3695
3696“Oh, Marilla,” exclaimed Anne, flying to the washstand. “Five minutes
3697ago I was so miserable I was wishing I’d never been born and now I
3698wouldn’t change places with an angel!”
3699
3700That night a thoroughly happy, completely tired-out Anne returned to
3701Green Gables in a state of beatification impossible to describe.
3702
3703“Oh, Marilla, I’ve had a perfectly scrumptious time. Scrumptious is a
3704new word I learned today. I heard Mary Alice Bell use it. Isn’t it very
3705expressive? Everything was lovely. We had a splendid tea and then Mr.
3706Harmon Andrews took us all for a row on the Lake of Shining Waters--six
3707of us at a time. And Jane Andrews nearly fell overboard. She was leaning
3708out to pick water lilies and if Mr. Andrews hadn’t caught her by her
3709sash just in the nick of time she’d fallen in and prob’ly been drowned.
3710I wish it had been me. It would have been such a romantic experience to
3711have been nearly drowned. It would be such a thrilling tale to tell. And
3712we had the ice cream. Words fail me to describe that ice cream. Marilla,
3713I assure you it was sublime.”
3714
3715That evening Marilla told the whole story to Matthew over her stocking
3716basket.
3717
3718“I’m willing to own up that I made a mistake,” she concluded candidly,
3719“but I’ve learned a lesson. I have to laugh when I think of Anne’s
3720‘confession,’ although I suppose I shouldn’t for it really was a
3721falsehood. But it doesn’t seem as bad as the other would have been,
3722somehow, and anyhow I’m responsible for it. That child is hard to
3723understand in some respects. But I believe she’ll turn out all right
3724yet. And there’s one thing certain, no house will ever be dull that
3725she’s in.”
3726
3727
3728
3729
3730CHAPTER XV. A Tempest in the School Teapot
3731
3732
3733|WHAT a splendid day!” said Anne, drawing a long breath. “Isn’t it good
3734just to be alive on a day like this? I pity the people who aren’t born
3735yet for missing it. They may have good days, of course, but they can
3736never have this one. And it’s splendider still to have such a lovely way
3737to go to school by, isn’t it?”
3738
3739“It’s a lot nicer than going round by the road; that is so dusty
3740and hot,” said Diana practically, peeping into her dinner basket and
3741mentally calculating if the three juicy, toothsome, raspberry tarts
3742reposing there were divided among ten girls how many bites each girl
3743would have.
3744
3745The little girls of Avonlea school always pooled their lunches, and
3746to eat three raspberry tarts all alone or even to share them only with
3747one’s best chum would have forever and ever branded as “awful mean” the
3748girl who did it. And yet, when the tarts were divided among ten girls
3749you just got enough to tantalize you.
3750
3751The way Anne and Diana went to school _was_ a pretty one. Anne thought
3752those walks to and from school with Diana couldn’t be improved upon
3753even by imagination. Going around by the main road would have been so
3754unromantic; but to go by Lover’s Lane and Willowmere and Violet Vale and
3755the Birch Path was romantic, if ever anything was.
3756
3757Lover’s Lane opened out below the orchard at Green Gables and stretched
3758far up into the woods to the end of the Cuthbert farm. It was the way by
3759which the cows were taken to the back pasture and the wood hauled home
3760in winter. Anne had named it Lover’s Lane before she had been a month at
3761Green Gables.
3762
3763“Not that lovers ever really walk there,” she explained to Marilla,
3764“but Diana and I are reading a perfectly magnificent book and there’s a
3765Lover’s Lane in it. So we want to have one, too. And it’s a very pretty
3766name, don’t you think? So romantic! We can’t imagine the lovers into it,
3767you know. I like that lane because you can think out loud there without
3768people calling you crazy.”
3769
3770Anne, starting out alone in the morning, went down Lover’s Lane as far
3771as the brook. Here Diana met her, and the two little girls went on
3772up the lane under the leafy arch of maples--“maples are such sociable
3773trees,” said Anne; “they’re always rustling and whispering to
3774you”--until they came to a rustic bridge. Then they left the lane
3775and walked through Mr. Barry’s back field and past Willowmere. Beyond
3776Willowmere came Violet Vale--a little green dimple in the shadow of Mr.
3777Andrew Bell’s big woods. “Of course there are no violets there now,”
3778 Anne told Marilla, “but Diana says there are millions of them in spring.
3779Oh, Marilla, can’t you just imagine you see them? It actually takes away
3780my breath. I named it Violet Vale. Diana says she never saw the beat
3781of me for hitting on fancy names for places. It’s nice to be clever at
3782something, isn’t it? But Diana named the Birch Path. She wanted to, so
3783I let her; but I’m sure I could have found something more poetical than
3784plain Birch Path. Anybody can think of a name like that. But the Birch
3785Path is one of the prettiest places in the world, Marilla.”
3786
3787It was. Other people besides Anne thought so when they stumbled on it.
3788It was a little narrow, twisting path, winding down over a long hill
3789straight through Mr. Bell’s woods, where the light came down sifted
3790through so many emerald screens that it was as flawless as the heart
3791of a diamond. It was fringed in all its length with slim young birches,
3792white stemmed and lissom boughed; ferns and starflowers and wild
3793lilies-of-the-valley and scarlet tufts of pigeonberries grew thickly
3794along it; and always there was a delightful spiciness in the air and
3795music of bird calls and the murmur and laugh of wood winds in the trees
3796overhead. Now and then you might see a rabbit skipping across the road
3797if you were quiet--which, with Anne and Diana, happened about once in
3798a blue moon. Down in the valley the path came out to the main road and
3799then it was just up the spruce hill to the school.
3800
3801The Avonlea school was a whitewashed building, low in the eaves and
3802wide in the windows, furnished inside with comfortable substantial
3803old-fashioned desks that opened and shut, and were carved all over their
3804lids with the initials and hieroglyphics of three generations of school
3805children. The schoolhouse was set back from the road and behind it was
3806a dusky fir wood and a brook where all the children put their bottles of
3807milk in the morning to keep cool and sweet until dinner hour.
3808
3809Marilla had seen Anne start off to school on the first day of September
3810with many secret misgivings. Anne was such an odd girl. How would she
3811get on with the other children? And how on earth would she ever manage
3812to hold her tongue during school hours?
3813
3814Things went better than Marilla feared, however. Anne came home that
3815evening in high spirits.
3816
3817“I think I’m going to like school here,” she announced. “I don’t think
3818much of the master, through. He’s all the time curling his mustache
3819and making eyes at Prissy Andrews. Prissy is grown up, you know. She’s
3820sixteen and she’s studying for the entrance examination into Queen’s
3821Academy at Charlottetown next year. Tillie Boulter says the master is
3822_dead gone_ on her. She’s got a beautiful complexion and curly brown hair
3823and she does it up so elegantly. She sits in the long seat at the back
3824and he sits there, too, most of the time--to explain her lessons, he
3825says. But Ruby Gillis says she saw him writing something on her slate
3826and when Prissy read it she blushed as red as a beet and giggled; and
3827Ruby Gillis says she doesn’t believe it had anything to do with the
3828lesson.”
3829
3830“Anne Shirley, don’t let me hear you talking about your teacher in that
3831way again,” said Marilla sharply. “You don’t go to school to criticize
3832the master. I guess he can teach _you_ something, and it’s your business
3833to learn. And I want you to understand right off that you are not to
3834come home telling tales about him. That is something I won’t encourage.
3835I hope you were a good girl.”
3836
3837“Indeed I was,” said Anne comfortably. “It wasn’t so hard as you might
3838imagine, either. I sit with Diana. Our seat is right by the window and
3839we can look down to the Lake of Shining Waters. There are a lot of nice
3840girls in school and we had scrumptious fun playing at dinnertime. It’s
3841so nice to have a lot of little girls to play with. But of course I like
3842Diana best and always will. I _adore_ Diana. I’m dreadfully far behind the
3843others. They’re all in the fifth book and I’m only in the fourth. I feel
3844that it’s kind of a disgrace. But there’s not one of them has such an
3845imagination as I have and I soon found that out. We had reading and
3846geography and Canadian history and dictation today. Mr. Phillips said my
3847spelling was disgraceful and he held up my slate so that everybody could
3848see it, all marked over. I felt so mortified, Marilla; he might have
3849been politer to a stranger, I think. Ruby Gillis gave me an apple and
3850Sophia Sloane lent me a lovely pink card with ‘May I see you home?’ on
3851it. I’m to give it back to her tomorrow. And Tillie Boulter let me wear
3852her bead ring all the afternoon. Can I have some of those pearl beads
3853off the old pincushion in the garret to make myself a ring? And oh,
3854Marilla, Jane Andrews told me that Minnie MacPherson told her that she
3855heard Prissy Andrews tell Sara Gillis that I had a very pretty nose.
3856Marilla, that is the first compliment I have ever had in my life and you
3857can’t imagine what a strange feeling it gave me. Marilla, have I really
3858a pretty nose? I know you’ll tell me the truth.”
3859
3860“Your nose is well enough,” said Marilla shortly. Secretly she thought
3861Anne’s nose was a remarkable pretty one; but she had no intention of
3862telling her so.
3863
3864That was three weeks ago and all had gone smoothly so far. And now, this
3865crisp September morning, Anne and Diana were tripping blithely down the
3866Birch Path, two of the happiest little girls in Avonlea.
3867
3868“I guess Gilbert Blythe will be in school today,” said Diana. “He’s been
3869visiting his cousins over in New Brunswick all summer and he only came
3870home Saturday night. He’s _aw’fly_ handsome, Anne. And he teases the
3871girls something terrible. He just torments our lives out.”
3872
3873Diana’s voice indicated that she rather liked having her life tormented
3874out than not.
3875
3876“Gilbert Blythe?” said Anne. “Isn’t his name that’s written up on the
3877porch wall with Julia Bell’s and a big ‘Take Notice’ over them?”
3878
3879“Yes,” said Diana, tossing her head, “but I’m sure he doesn’t like Julia
3880Bell so very much. I’ve heard him say he studied the multiplication
3881table by her freckles.”
3882
3883“Oh, don’t speak about freckles to me,” implored Anne. “It isn’t
3884delicate when I’ve got so many. But I do think that writing take-notices
3885up on the wall about the boys and girls is the silliest ever. I should
3886just like to see anybody dare to write my name up with a boy’s. Not, of
3887course,” she hastened to add, “that anybody would.”
3888
3889Anne sighed. She didn’t want her name written up. But it was a little
3890humiliating to know that there was no danger of it.
3891
3892“Nonsense,” said Diana, whose black eyes and glossy tresses had played
3893such havoc with the hearts of Avonlea schoolboys that her name figured
3894on the porch walls in half a dozen take-notices. “It’s only meant as
3895a joke. And don’t you be too sure your name won’t ever be written up.
3896Charlie Sloane is _dead gone_ on you. He told his mother--his _mother_,
3897mind you--that you were the smartest girl in school. That’s better than
3898being good looking.”
3899
3900“No, it isn’t,” said Anne, feminine to the core. “I’d rather be pretty
3901than clever. And I hate Charlie Sloane, I can’t bear a boy with goggle
3902eyes. If anyone wrote my name up with his I’d never _get_ over it, Diana
3903Barry. But it _is_ nice to keep head of your class.”
3904
3905“You’ll have Gilbert in your class after this,” said Diana, “and he’s
3906used to being head of his class, I can tell you. He’s only in the fourth
3907book although he’s nearly fourteen. Four years ago his father was sick
3908and had to go out to Alberta for his health and Gilbert went with him.
3909They were there three years and Gil didn’t go to school hardly any
3910until they came back. You won’t find it so easy to keep head after this,
3911Anne.”
3912
3913“I’m glad,” said Anne quickly. “I couldn’t really feel proud of keeping
3914head of little boys and girls of just nine or ten. I got up yesterday
3915spelling ‘ebullition.’ Josie Pye was head and, mind you, she peeped
3916in her book. Mr. Phillips didn’t see her--he was looking at Prissy
3917Andrews--but I did. I just swept her a look of freezing scorn and she
3918got as red as a beet and spelled it wrong after all.”
3919
3920“Those Pye girls are cheats all round,” said Diana indignantly, as they
3921climbed the fence of the main road. “Gertie Pye actually went and put
3922her milk bottle in my place in the brook yesterday. Did you ever? I
3923don’t speak to her now.”
3924
3925When Mr. Phillips was in the back of the room hearing Prissy Andrews’s
3926Latin, Diana whispered to Anne, “That’s Gilbert Blythe sitting right
3927across the aisle from you, Anne. Just look at him and see if you don’t
3928think he’s handsome.”
3929
3930Anne looked accordingly. She had a good chance to do so, for the said
3931Gilbert Blythe was absorbed in stealthily pinning the long yellow braid
3932of Ruby Gillis, who sat in front of him, to the back of her seat. He
3933was a tall boy, with curly brown hair, roguish hazel eyes, and a mouth
3934twisted into a teasing smile. Presently Ruby Gillis started up to take
3935a sum to the master; she fell back into her seat with a little shriek,
3936believing that her hair was pulled out by the roots. Everybody looked at
3937her and Mr. Phillips glared so sternly that Ruby began to cry. Gilbert
3938had whisked the pin out of sight and was studying his history with the
3939soberest face in the world; but when the commotion subsided he looked at
3940Anne and winked with inexpressible drollery.
3941
3942“I think your Gilbert Blythe _is_ handsome,” confided Anne to Diana,
3943“but I think he’s very bold. It isn’t good manners to wink at a strange
3944girl.”
3945
3946But it was not until the afternoon that things really began to happen.
3947
3948Mr. Phillips was back in the corner explaining a problem in algebra to
3949Prissy Andrews and the rest of the scholars were doing pretty much as
3950they pleased eating green apples, whispering, drawing pictures on their
3951slates, and driving crickets harnessed to strings, up and down aisle.
3952Gilbert Blythe was trying to make Anne Shirley look at him and failing
3953utterly, because Anne was at that moment totally oblivious not only
3954to the very existence of Gilbert Blythe, but of every other scholar in
3955Avonlea school itself. With her chin propped on her hands and her eyes
3956fixed on the blue glimpse of the Lake of Shining Waters that the west
3957window afforded, she was far away in a gorgeous dreamland hearing and
3958seeing nothing save her own wonderful visions.
3959
3960Gilbert Blythe wasn’t used to putting himself out to make a girl look
3961at him and meeting with failure. She _should_ look at him, that red-haired
3962Shirley girl with the little pointed chin and the big eyes that weren’t
3963like the eyes of any other girl in Avonlea school.
3964
3965Gilbert reached across the aisle, picked up the end of Anne’s long red
3966braid, held it out at arm’s length and said in a piercing whisper:
3967
3968“Carrots! Carrots!”
3969
3970Then Anne looked at him with a vengeance!
3971
3972She did more than look. She sprang to her feet, her bright fancies
3973fallen into cureless ruin. She flashed one indignant glance at Gilbert
3974from eyes whose angry sparkle was swiftly quenched in equally angry
3975tears.
3976
3977“You mean, hateful boy!” she exclaimed passionately. “How dare you!”
3978
3979And then--thwack! Anne had brought her slate down on Gilbert’s head and
3980cracked it--slate not head--clear across.
3981
3982Avonlea school always enjoyed a scene. This was an especially enjoyable
3983one. Everybody said “Oh” in horrified delight. Diana gasped. Ruby
3984Gillis, who was inclined to be hysterical, began to cry. Tommy
3985Sloane let his team of crickets escape him altogether while he stared
3986open-mouthed at the tableau.
3987
3988Mr. Phillips stalked down the aisle and laid his hand heavily on Anne’s
3989shoulder.
3990
3991“Anne Shirley, what does this mean?” he said angrily. Anne returned no
3992answer. It was asking too much of flesh and blood to expect her to tell
3993before the whole school that she had been called “carrots.” Gilbert it
3994was who spoke up stoutly.
3995
3996“It was my fault Mr. Phillips. I teased her.”
3997
3998Mr. Phillips paid no heed to Gilbert.
3999
4000“I am sorry to see a pupil of mine displaying such a temper and such
4001a vindictive spirit,” he said in a solemn tone, as if the mere fact of
4002being a pupil of his ought to root out all evil passions from the hearts
4003of small imperfect mortals. “Anne, go and stand on the platform in front
4004of the blackboard for the rest of the afternoon.”
4005
4006Anne would have infinitely preferred a whipping to this punishment under
4007which her sensitive spirit quivered as from a whiplash. With a white,
4008set face she obeyed. Mr. Phillips took a chalk crayon and wrote on the
4009blackboard above her head.
4010
4011“Ann Shirley has a very bad temper. Ann Shirley must learn to control
4012her temper,” and then read it out loud so that even the primer class,
4013who couldn’t read writing, should understand it.
4014
4015Anne stood there the rest of the afternoon with that legend above her.
4016She did not cry or hang her head. Anger was still too hot in her heart
4017for that and it sustained her amid all her agony of humiliation. With
4018resentful eyes and passion-red cheeks she confronted alike Diana’s
4019sympathetic gaze and Charlie Sloane’s indignant nods and Josie Pye’s
4020malicious smiles. As for Gilbert Blythe, she would not even look at him.
4021She would _never_ look at him again! She would never speak to him!!
4022
4023When school was dismissed Anne marched out with her red head held high.
4024Gilbert Blythe tried to intercept her at the porch door.
4025
4026“I’m awfully sorry I made fun of your hair, Anne,” he whispered
4027contritely. “Honest I am. Don’t be mad for keeps, now.”
4028
4029Anne swept by disdainfully, without look or sign of hearing. “Oh
4030how could you, Anne?” breathed Diana as they went down the road half
4031reproachfully, half admiringly. Diana felt that _she_ could never have
4032resisted Gilbert’s plea.
4033
4034“I shall never forgive Gilbert Blythe,” said Anne firmly. “And Mr.
4035Phillips spelled my name without an e, too. The iron has entered into my
4036soul, Diana.”
4037
4038Diana hadn’t the least idea what Anne meant but she understood it was
4039something terrible.
4040
4041“You mustn’t mind Gilbert making fun of your hair,” she said soothingly.
4042“Why, he makes fun of all the girls. He laughs at mine because it’s
4043so black. He’s called me a crow a dozen times; and I never heard him
4044apologize for anything before, either.”
4045
4046“There’s a great deal of difference between being called a crow and
4047being called carrots,” said Anne with dignity. “Gilbert Blythe has hurt
4048my feelings _excruciatingly_, Diana.”
4049
4050It is possible the matter might have blown over without more
4051excruciation if nothing else had happened. But when things begin to
4052happen they are apt to keep on.
4053
4054Avonlea scholars often spent noon hour picking gum in Mr. Bell’s spruce
4055grove over the hill and across his big pasture field. From there they
4056could keep an eye on Eben Wright’s house, where the master boarded. When
4057they saw Mr. Phillips emerging therefrom they ran for the schoolhouse;
4058but the distance being about three times longer than Mr. Wright’s lane
4059they were very apt to arrive there, breathless and gasping, some three
4060minutes too late.
4061
4062On the following day Mr. Phillips was seized with one of his spasmodic
4063fits of reform and announced before going home to dinner, that he should
4064expect to find all the scholars in their seats when he returned. Anyone
4065who came in late would be punished.
4066
4067All the boys and some of the girls went to Mr. Bell’s spruce grove as
4068usual, fully intending to stay only long enough to “pick a chew.” But
4069spruce groves are seductive and yellow nuts of gum beguiling; they
4070picked and loitered and strayed; and as usual the first thing that
4071recalled them to a sense of the flight of time was Jimmy Glover shouting
4072from the top of a patriarchal old spruce “Master’s coming.”
4073
4074The girls who were on the ground, started first and managed to reach the
4075schoolhouse in time but without a second to spare. The boys, who had to
4076wriggle hastily down from the trees, were later; and Anne, who had not
4077been picking gum at all but was wandering happily in the far end of the
4078grove, waist deep among the bracken, singing softly to herself, with a
4079wreath of rice lilies on her hair as if she were some wild divinity
4080of the shadowy places, was latest of all. Anne could run like a deer,
4081however; run she did with the impish result that she overtook the boys
4082at the door and was swept into the schoolhouse among them just as Mr.
4083Phillips was in the act of hanging up his hat.
4084
4085Mr. Phillips’s brief reforming energy was over; he didn’t want the
4086bother of punishing a dozen pupils; but it was necessary to do something
4087to save his word, so he looked about for a scapegoat and found it
4088in Anne, who had dropped into her seat, gasping for breath, with a
4089forgotten lily wreath hanging askew over one ear and giving her a
4090particularly rakish and disheveled appearance.
4091
4092“Anne Shirley, since you seem to be so fond of the boys’ company we
4093shall indulge your taste for it this afternoon,” he said sarcastically.
4094“Take those flowers out of your hair and sit with Gilbert Blythe.”
4095
4096The other boys snickered. Diana, turning pale with pity, plucked the
4097wreath from Anne’s hair and squeezed her hand. Anne stared at the master
4098as if turned to stone.
4099
4100“Did you hear what I said, Anne?” queried Mr. Phillips sternly.
4101
4102“Yes, sir,” said Anne slowly “but I didn’t suppose you really meant it.”
4103
4104“I assure you I did”--still with the sarcastic inflection which all the
4105children, and Anne especially, hated. It flicked on the raw. “Obey me at
4106once.”
4107
4108For a moment Anne looked as if she meant to disobey. Then, realizing
4109that there was no help for it, she rose haughtily, stepped across the
4110aisle, sat down beside Gilbert Blythe, and buried her face in her arms
4111on the desk. Ruby Gillis, who got a glimpse of it as it went down,
4112told the others going home from school that she’d “acksually never seen
4113anything like it--it was so white, with awful little red spots in it.”
4114
4115To Anne, this was as the end of all things. It was bad enough to be
4116singled out for punishment from among a dozen equally guilty ones; it
4117was worse still to be sent to sit with a boy, but that that boy should
4118be Gilbert Blythe was heaping insult on injury to a degree utterly
4119unbearable. Anne felt that she could not bear it and it would be of
4120no use to try. Her whole being seethed with shame and anger and
4121humiliation.
4122
4123At first the other scholars looked and whispered and giggled and nudged.
4124But as Anne never lifted her head and as Gilbert worked fractions as if
4125his whole soul was absorbed in them and them only, they soon returned
4126to their own tasks and Anne was forgotten. When Mr. Phillips called the
4127history class out Anne should have gone, but Anne did not move, and
4128Mr. Phillips, who had been writing some verses “To Priscilla” before he
4129called the class, was thinking about an obstinate rhyme still and never
4130missed her. Once, when nobody was looking, Gilbert took from his desk
4131a little pink candy heart with a gold motto on it, “You are sweet,” and
4132slipped it under the curve of Anne’s arm. Whereupon Anne arose, took the
4133pink heart gingerly between the tips of her fingers, dropped it on the
4134floor, ground it to powder beneath her heel, and resumed her position
4135without deigning to bestow a glance on Gilbert.
4136
4137When school went out Anne marched to her desk, ostentatiously took out
4138everything therein, books and writing tablet, pen and ink, testament and
4139arithmetic, and piled them neatly on her cracked slate.
4140
4141“What are you taking all those things home for, Anne?” Diana wanted to
4142know, as soon as they were out on the road. She had not dared to ask the
4143question before.
4144
4145“I am not coming back to school any more,” said Anne. Diana gasped and
4146stared at Anne to see if she meant it.
4147
4148“Will Marilla let you stay home?” she asked.
4149
4150“She’ll have to,” said Anne. “I’ll _never_ go to school to that man
4151again.”
4152
4153“Oh, Anne!” Diana looked as if she were ready to cry. “I do think you’re
4154mean. What shall I do? Mr. Phillips will make me sit with that horrid
4155Gertie Pye--I know he will because she is sitting alone. Do come back,
4156Anne.”
4157
4158“I’d do almost anything in the world for you, Diana,” said Anne sadly.
4159“I’d let myself be torn limb from limb if it would do you any good. But
4160I can’t do this, so please don’t ask it. You harrow up my very soul.”
4161
4162“Just think of all the fun you will miss,” mourned Diana. “We are going
4163to build the loveliest new house down by the brook; and we’ll be playing
4164ball next week and you’ve never played ball, Anne. It’s tremendously
4165exciting. And we’re going to learn a new song--Jane Andrews is
4166practicing it up now; and Alice Andrews is going to bring a new Pansy
4167book next week and we’re all going to read it out loud, chapter about,
4168down by the brook. And you know you are so fond of reading out loud,
4169Anne.”
4170
4171Nothing moved Anne in the least. Her mind was made up. She would not go
4172to school to Mr. Phillips again; she told Marilla so when she got home.
4173
4174“Nonsense,” said Marilla.
4175
4176“It isn’t nonsense at all,” said Anne, gazing at Marilla with solemn,
4177reproachful eyes. “Don’t you understand, Marilla? I’ve been insulted.”
4178
4179“Insulted fiddlesticks! You’ll go to school tomorrow as usual.”
4180
4181“Oh, no.” Anne shook her head gently. “I’m not going back, Marilla. I’ll
4182learn my lessons at home and I’ll be as good as I can be and hold my
4183tongue all the time if it’s possible at all. But I will not go back to
4184school, I assure you.”
4185
4186Marilla saw something remarkably like unyielding stubbornness looking
4187out of Anne’s small face. She understood that she would have trouble in
4188overcoming it; but she re-solved wisely to say nothing more just then.
4189“I’ll run down and see Rachel about it this evening,” she thought.
4190“There’s no use reasoning with Anne now. She’s too worked up and I’ve
4191an idea she can be awful stubborn if she takes the notion. Far as I can
4192make out from her story, Mr. Phillips has been carrying matters with a
4193rather high hand. But it would never do to say so to her. I’ll just talk
4194it over with Rachel. She’s sent ten children to school and she ought to
4195know something about it. She’ll have heard the whole story, too, by this
4196time.”
4197
4198Marilla found Mrs. Lynde knitting quilts as industriously and cheerfully
4199as usual.
4200
4201“I suppose you know what I’ve come about,” she said, a little
4202shamefacedly.
4203
4204Mrs. Rachel nodded.
4205
4206“About Anne’s fuss in school, I reckon,” she said. “Tillie Boulter was
4207in on her way home from school and told me about it.”
4208
4209“I don’t know what to do with her,” said Marilla. “She declares she
4210won’t go back to school. I never saw a child so worked up. I’ve been
4211expecting trouble ever since she started to school. I knew things were
4212going too smooth to last. She’s so high strung. What would you advise,
4213Rachel?”
4214
4215“Well, since you’ve asked my advice, Marilla,” said Mrs. Lynde
4216amiably--Mrs. Lynde dearly loved to be asked for advice--“I’d just
4217humor her a little at first, that’s what I’d do. It’s my belief that
4218Mr. Phillips was in the wrong. Of course, it doesn’t do to say so to the
4219children, you know. And of course he did right to punish her yesterday
4220for giving way to temper. But today it was different. The others who
4221were late should have been punished as well as Anne, that’s what. And I
4222don’t believe in making the girls sit with the boys for punishment. It
4223isn’t modest. Tillie Boulter was real indignant. She took Anne’s part
4224right through and said all the scholars did too. Anne seems real popular
4225among them, somehow. I never thought she’d take with them so well.”
4226
4227“Then you really think I’d better let her stay home,” said Marilla in
4228amazement.
4229
4230“Yes. That is I wouldn’t say school to her again until she said it
4231herself. Depend upon it, Marilla, she’ll cool off in a week or so and
4232be ready enough to go back of her own accord, that’s what, while, if
4233you were to make her go back right off, dear knows what freak or tantrum
4234she’d take next and make more trouble than ever. The less fuss made the
4235better, in my opinion. She won’t miss much by not going to school, as
4236far as _that_ goes. Mr. Phillips isn’t any good at all as a teacher. The
4237order he keeps is scandalous, that’s what, and he neglects the young
4238fry and puts all his time on those big scholars he’s getting ready for
4239Queen’s. He’d never have got the school for another year if his uncle
4240hadn’t been a trustee--_the_ trustee, for he just leads the other two
4241around by the nose, that’s what. I declare, I don’t know what education
4242in this Island is coming to.”
4243
4244Mrs. Rachel shook her head, as much as to say if she were only at the
4245head of the educational system of the Province things would be much
4246better managed.
4247
4248Marilla took Mrs. Rachel’s advice and not another word was said to Anne
4249about going back to school. She learned her lessons at home, did her
4250chores, and played with Diana in the chilly purple autumn twilights;
4251but when she met Gilbert Blythe on the road or encountered him in Sunday
4252school she passed him by with an icy contempt that was no whit thawed by
4253his evident desire to appease her. Even Diana’s efforts as a peacemaker
4254were of no avail. Anne had evidently made up her mind to hate Gilbert
4255Blythe to the end of life.
4256
4257As much as she hated Gilbert, however, did she love Diana, with all the
4258love of her passionate little heart, equally intense in its likes and
4259dislikes. One evening Marilla, coming in from the orchard with a basket
4260of apples, found Anne sitting along by the east window in the twilight,
4261crying bitterly.
4262
4263“Whatever’s the matter now, Anne?” she asked.
4264
4265“It’s about Diana,” sobbed Anne luxuriously. “I love Diana so, Marilla.
4266I cannot ever live without her. But I know very well when we grow up
4267that Diana will get married and go away and leave me. And oh, what shall
4268I do? I hate her husband--I just hate him furiously. I’ve been imagining
4269it all out--the wedding and everything--Diana dressed in snowy garments,
4270with a veil, and looking as beautiful and regal as a queen; and me the
4271bridesmaid, with a lovely dress too, and puffed sleeves, but with a
4272breaking heart hid beneath my smiling face. And then bidding Diana
4273goodbye-e-e--” Here Anne broke down entirely and wept with increasing
4274bitterness.
4275
4276Marilla turned quickly away to hide her twitching face; but it was no
4277use; she collapsed on the nearest chair and burst into such a hearty and
4278unusual peal of laughter that Matthew, crossing the yard outside, halted
4279in amazement. When had he heard Marilla laugh like that before?
4280
4281“Well, Anne Shirley,” said Marilla as soon as she could speak, “if you
4282must borrow trouble, for pity’s sake borrow it handier home. I should
4283think you had an imagination, sure enough.”
4284
4285
4286
4287
4288CHAPTER XVI. Diana Is Invited to Tea with Tragic Results
4289
4290
4291|OCTOBER was a beautiful month at Green Gables, when the birches in the
4292hollow turned as golden as sunshine and the maples behind the orchard
4293were royal crimson and the wild cherry trees along the lane put on the
4294loveliest shades of dark red and bronzy green, while the fields sunned
4295themselves in aftermaths.
4296
4297Anne reveled in the world of color about her.
4298
4299“Oh, Marilla,” she exclaimed one Saturday morning, coming dancing in
4300with her arms full of gorgeous boughs, “I’m so glad I live in a world
4301where there are Octobers. It would be terrible if we just skipped from
4302September to November, wouldn’t it? Look at these maple branches. Don’t
4303they give you a thrill--several thrills? I’m going to decorate my room
4304with them.”
4305
4306“Messy things,” said Marilla, whose aesthetic sense was not noticeably
4307developed. “You clutter up your room entirely too much with out-of-doors
4308stuff, Anne. Bedrooms were made to sleep in.”
4309
4310“Oh, and dream in too, Marilla. And you know one can dream so much
4311better in a room where there are pretty things. I’m going to put these
4312boughs in the old blue jug and set them on my table.”
4313
4314“Mind you don’t drop leaves all over the stairs then. I’m going on a
4315meeting of the Aid Society at Carmody this afternoon, Anne, and I won’t
4316likely be home before dark. You’ll have to get Matthew and Jerry their
4317supper, so mind you don’t forget to put the tea to draw until you sit
4318down at the table as you did last time.”
4319
4320“It was dreadful of me to forget,” said Anne apologetically, “but that
4321was the afternoon I was trying to think of a name for Violet Vale and it
4322crowded other things out. Matthew was so good. He never scolded a bit.
4323He put the tea down himself and said we could wait awhile as well as
4324not. And I told him a lovely fairy story while we were waiting, so
4325he didn’t find the time long at all. It was a beautiful fairy story,
4326Marilla. I forgot the end of it, so I made up an end for it myself and
4327Matthew said he couldn’t tell where the join came in.”
4328
4329“Matthew would think it all right, Anne, if you took a notion to get up
4330and have dinner in the middle of the night. But you keep your wits about
4331you this time. And--I don’t really know if I’m doing right--it may make
4332you more addlepated than ever--but you can ask Diana to come over and
4333spend the afternoon with you and have tea here.”
4334
4335“Oh, Marilla!” Anne clasped her hands. “How perfectly lovely! You _are_
4336able to imagine things after all or else you’d never have understood how
4337I’ve longed for that very thing. It will seem so nice and grown-uppish.
4338No fear of my forgetting to put the tea to draw when I have company. Oh,
4339Marilla, can I use the rosebud spray tea set?”
4340
4341“No, indeed! The rosebud tea set! Well, what next? You know I never use
4342that except for the minister or the Aids. You’ll put down the old brown
4343tea set. But you can open the little yellow crock of cherry preserves.
4344It’s time it was being used anyhow--I believe it’s beginning to work.
4345And you can cut some fruit cake and have some of the cookies and snaps.”
4346
4347“I can just imagine myself sitting down at the head of the table and
4348pouring out the tea,” said Anne, shutting her eyes ecstatically. “And
4349asking Diana if she takes sugar! I know she doesn’t but of course I’ll
4350ask her just as if I didn’t know. And then pressing her to take another
4351piece of fruit cake and another helping of preserves. Oh, Marilla, it’s
4352a wonderful sensation just to think of it. Can I take her into the spare
4353room to lay off her hat when she comes? And then into the parlor to
4354sit?”
4355
4356“No. The sitting room will do for you and your company. But there’s a
4357bottle half full of raspberry cordial that was left over from the church
4358social the other night. It’s on the second shelf of the sitting-room
4359closet and you and Diana can have it if you like, and a cooky to eat
4360with it along in the afternoon, for I daresay Matthew ‘ll be late coming
4361in to tea since he’s hauling potatoes to the vessel.”
4362
4363Anne flew down to the hollow, past the Dryad’s Bubble and up the spruce
4364path to Orchard Slope, to ask Diana to tea. As a result just after
4365Marilla had driven off to Carmody, Diana came over, dressed in _her_
4366second-best dress and looking exactly as it is proper to look when asked
4367out to tea. At other times she was wont to run into the kitchen without
4368knocking; but now she knocked primly at the front door. And when Anne,
4369dressed in her second best, as primly opened it, both little girls
4370shook hands as gravely as if they had never met before. This unnatural
4371solemnity lasted until after Diana had been taken to the east gable to
4372lay off her hat and then had sat for ten minutes in the sitting room,
4373toes in position.
4374
4375“How is your mother?” inquired Anne politely, just as if she had not
4376seen Mrs. Barry picking apples that morning in excellent health and
4377spirits.
4378
4379“She is very well, thank you. I suppose Mr. Cuthbert is hauling potatoes
4380to the _lily sands_ this afternoon, is he?” said Diana, who had ridden
4381down to Mr. Harmon Andrews’s that morning in Matthew’s cart.
4382
4383“Yes. Our potato crop is very good this year. I hope your father’s crop
4384is good too.”
4385
4386“It is fairly good, thank you. Have you picked many of your apples yet?”
4387
4388“Oh, ever so many,” said Anne forgetting to be dignified and jumping up
4389quickly. “Let’s go out to the orchard and get some of the Red Sweetings,
4390Diana. Marilla says we can have all that are left on the tree. Marilla
4391is a very generous woman. She said we could have fruit cake and cherry
4392preserves for tea. But it isn’t good manners to tell your company what
4393you are going to give them to eat, so I won’t tell you what she said we
4394could have to drink. Only it begins with an R and a C and it’s bright
4395red color. I love bright red drinks, don’t you? They taste twice as good
4396as any other color.”
4397
4398The orchard, with its great sweeping boughs that bent to the ground
4399with fruit, proved so delightful that the little girls spent most of the
4400afternoon in it, sitting in a grassy corner where the frost had spared
4401the green and the mellow autumn sunshine lingered warmly, eating apples
4402and talking as hard as they could. Diana had much to tell Anne of what
4403went on in school. She had to sit with Gertie Pye and she hated
4404it; Gertie squeaked her pencil all the time and it just made
4405her--Diana’s--blood run cold; Ruby Gillis had charmed all her warts
4406away, true’s you live, with a magic pebble that old Mary Joe from the
4407Creek gave her. You had to rub the warts with the pebble and then throw
4408it away over your left shoulder at the time of the new moon and the
4409warts would all go. Charlie Sloane’s name was written up with Em White’s
4410on the porch wall and Em White was _awful mad_ about it; Sam Boulter had
4411“sassed” Mr. Phillips in class and Mr. Phillips whipped him and Sam’s
4412father came down to the school and dared Mr. Phillips to lay a hand on
4413one of his children again; and Mattie Andrews had a new red hood and a
4414blue crossover with tassels on it and the airs she put on about it were
4415perfectly sickening; and Lizzie Wright didn’t speak to Mamie Wilson
4416because Mamie Wilson’s grown-up sister had cut out Lizzie Wright’s
4417grown-up sister with her beau; and everybody missed Anne so and wished
4418she’s come to school again; and Gilbert Blythe--
4419
4420But Anne didn’t want to hear about Gilbert Blythe. She jumped up
4421hurriedly and said suppose they go in and have some raspberry cordial.
4422
4423Anne looked on the second shelf of the room pantry but there was no
4424bottle of raspberry cordial there. Search revealed it away back on the
4425top shelf. Anne put it on a tray and set it on the table with a tumbler.
4426
4427“Now, please help yourself, Diana,” she said politely. “I don’t believe
4428I’ll have any just now. I don’t feel as if I wanted any after all those
4429apples.”
4430
4431Diana poured herself out a tumblerful, looked at its bright-red hue
4432admiringly, and then sipped it daintily.
4433
4434“That’s awfully nice raspberry cordial, Anne,” she said. “I didn’t know
4435raspberry cordial was so nice.”
4436
4437“I’m real glad you like it. Take as much as you want. I’m going to
4438run out and stir the fire up. There are so many responsibilities on a
4439person’s mind when they’re keeping house, isn’t there?”
4440
4441When Anne came back from the kitchen Diana was drinking her second
4442glassful of cordial; and, being entreated thereto by Anne, she offered
4443no particular objection to the drinking of a third. The tumblerfuls were
4444generous ones and the raspberry cordial was certainly very nice.
4445
4446“The nicest I ever drank,” said Diana. “It’s ever so much nicer than
4447Mrs. Lynde’s, although she brags of hers so much. It doesn’t taste a bit
4448like hers.”
4449
4450“I should think Marilla’s raspberry cordial would prob’ly be much nicer
4451than Mrs. Lynde’s,” said Anne loyally. “Marilla is a famous cook. She is
4452trying to teach me to cook but I assure you, Diana, it is uphill work.
4453There’s so little scope for imagination in cookery. You just have to go
4454by rules. The last time I made a cake I forgot to put the flour in. I
4455was thinking the loveliest story about you and me, Diana. I thought you
4456were desperately ill with smallpox and everybody deserted you, but I
4457went boldly to your bedside and nursed you back to life; and then I took
4458the smallpox and died and I was buried under those poplar trees in the
4459graveyard and you planted a rosebush by my grave and watered it with
4460your tears; and you never, never forgot the friend of your youth who
4461sacrificed her life for you. Oh, it was such a pathetic tale, Diana.
4462The tears just rained down over my cheeks while I mixed the cake. But
4463I forgot the flour and the cake was a dismal failure. Flour is so
4464essential to cakes, you know. Marilla was very cross and I don’t wonder.
4465I’m a great trial to her. She was terribly mortified about the pudding
4466sauce last week. We had a plum pudding for dinner on Tuesday and there
4467was half the pudding and a pitcherful of sauce left over. Marilla said
4468there was enough for another dinner and told me to set it on the pantry
4469shelf and cover it. I meant to cover it just as much as could be, Diana,
4470but when I carried it in I was imagining I was a nun--of course I’m a
4471Protestant but I imagined I was a Catholic--taking the veil to bury a
4472broken heart in cloistered seclusion; and I forgot all about covering
4473the pudding sauce. I thought of it next morning and ran to the pantry.
4474Diana, fancy if you can my extreme horror at finding a mouse drowned in
4475that pudding sauce! I lifted the mouse out with a spoon and threw it out
4476in the yard and then I washed the spoon in three waters. Marilla was out
4477milking and I fully intended to ask her when she came in if I’d give the
4478sauce to the pigs; but when she did come in I was imagining that I was
4479a frost fairy going through the woods turning the trees red and yellow,
4480whichever they wanted to be, so I never thought about the pudding sauce
4481again and Marilla sent me out to pick apples. Well, Mr. and Mrs. Chester
4482Ross from Spencervale came here that morning. You know they are very
4483stylish people, especially Mrs. Chester Ross. When Marilla called me in
4484dinner was all ready and everybody was at the table. I tried to be as
4485polite and dignified as I could be, for I wanted Mrs. Chester Ross to
4486think I was a ladylike little girl even if I wasn’t pretty. Everything
4487went right until I saw Marilla coming with the plum pudding in one hand
4488and the pitcher of pudding sauce _warmed up_, in the other. Diana, that
4489was a terrible moment. I remembered everything and I just stood up in
4490my place and shrieked out ‘Marilla, you mustn’t use that pudding sauce.
4491There was a mouse drowned in it. I forgot to tell you before.’ Oh,
4492Diana, I shall never forget that awful moment if I live to be a hundred.
4493Mrs. Chester Ross just _looked_ at me and I thought I would sink through
4494the floor with mortification. She is such a perfect housekeeper and
4495fancy what she must have thought of us. Marilla turned red as fire but
4496she never said a word--then. She just carried that sauce and pudding out
4497and brought in some strawberry preserves. She even offered me some, but
4498I couldn’t swallow a mouthful. It was like heaping coals of fire on
4499my head. After Mrs. Chester Ross went away, Marilla gave me a dreadful
4500scolding. Why, Diana, what is the matter?”
4501
4502Diana had stood up very unsteadily; then she sat down again, putting her
4503hands to her head.
4504
4505“I’m--I’m awful sick,” she said, a little thickly. “I--I--must go right
4506home.”
4507
4508“Oh, you mustn’t dream of going home without your tea,” cried Anne in
4509distress. “I’ll get it right off--I’ll go and put the tea down this very
4510minute.”
4511
4512“I must go home,” repeated Diana, stupidly but determinedly.
4513
4514“Let me get you a lunch anyhow,” implored Anne. “Let me give you a bit
4515of fruit cake and some of the cherry preserves. Lie down on the sofa for
4516a little while and you’ll be better. Where do you feel bad?”
4517
4518“I must go home,” said Diana, and that was all she would say. In vain
4519Anne pleaded.
4520
4521“I never heard of company going home without tea,” she mourned. “Oh,
4522Diana, do you suppose that it’s possible you’re really taking the
4523smallpox? If you are I’ll go and nurse you, you can depend on that. I’ll
4524never forsake you. But I do wish you’d stay till after tea. Where do you
4525feel bad?”
4526
4527“I’m awful dizzy,” said Diana.
4528
4529And indeed, she walked very dizzily. Anne, with tears of disappointment
4530in her eyes, got Diana’s hat and went with her as far as the Barry
4531yard fence. Then she wept all the way back to Green Gables, where she
4532sorrowfully put the remainder of the raspberry cordial back into the
4533pantry and got tea ready for Matthew and Jerry, with all the zest gone
4534out of the performance.
4535
4536The next day was Sunday and as the rain poured down in torrents from
4537dawn till dusk Anne did not stir abroad from Green Gables. Monday
4538afternoon Marilla sent her down to Mrs. Lynde’s on an errand. In a very
4539short space of time Anne came flying back up the lane with tears rolling
4540down her cheeks. Into the kitchen she dashed and flung herself face
4541downward on the sofa in an agony.
4542
4543“Whatever has gone wrong now, Anne?” queried Marilla in doubt and
4544dismay. “I do hope you haven’t gone and been saucy to Mrs. Lynde again.”
4545
4546No answer from Anne save more tears and stormier sobs!
4547
4548“Anne Shirley, when I ask you a question I want to be answered. Sit
4549right up this very minute and tell me what you are crying about.”
4550
4551Anne sat up, tragedy personified.
4552
4553“Mrs. Lynde was up to see Mrs. Barry today and Mrs. Barry was in an
4554awful state,” she wailed. “She says that I set Diana _drunk_ Saturday
4555and sent her home in a disgraceful condition. And she says I must be a
4556thoroughly bad, wicked little girl and she’s never, never going to let
4557Diana play with me again. Oh, Marilla, I’m just overcome with woe.”
4558
4559Marilla stared in blank amazement.
4560
4561“Set Diana drunk!” she said when she found her voice. “Anne are you or
4562Mrs. Barry crazy? What on earth did you give her?”
4563
4564“Not a thing but raspberry cordial,” sobbed Anne. “I never thought
4565raspberry cordial would set people drunk, Marilla--not even if they
4566drank three big tumblerfuls as Diana did. Oh, it sounds so--so--like
4567Mrs. Thomas’s husband! But I didn’t mean to set her drunk.”
4568
4569“Drunk fiddlesticks!” said Marilla, marching to the sitting room pantry.
4570There on the shelf was a bottle which she at once recognized as one
4571containing some of her three-year-old homemade currant wine for which
4572she was celebrated in Avonlea, although certain of the stricter sort,
4573Mrs. Barry among them, disapproved strongly of it. And at the same time
4574Marilla recollected that she had put the bottle of raspberry cordial
4575down in the cellar instead of in the pantry as she had told Anne.
4576
4577She went back to the kitchen with the wine bottle in her hand. Her face
4578was twitching in spite of herself.
4579
4580“Anne, you certainly have a genius for getting into trouble. You went
4581and gave Diana currant wine instead of raspberry cordial. Didn’t you
4582know the difference yourself?”
4583
4584“I never tasted it,” said Anne. “I thought it was the cordial. I meant
4585to be so--so--hospitable. Diana got awfully sick and had to go home.
4586Mrs. Barry told Mrs. Lynde she was simply dead drunk. She just laughed
4587silly-like when her mother asked her what was the matter and went to
4588sleep and slept for hours. Her mother smelled her breath and knew she
4589was drunk. She had a fearful headache all day yesterday. Mrs. Barry is
4590so indignant. She will never believe but what I did it on purpose.”
4591
4592“I should think she would better punish Diana for being so greedy as to
4593drink three glassfuls of anything,” said Marilla shortly. “Why, three
4594of those big glasses would have made her sick even if it had only been
4595cordial. Well, this story will be a nice handle for those folks who are
4596so down on me for making currant wine, although I haven’t made any for
4597three years ever since I found out that the minister didn’t approve. I
4598just kept that bottle for sickness. There, there, child, don’t cry. I
4599can’t see as you were to blame although I’m sorry it happened so.”
4600
4601“I must cry,” said Anne. “My heart is broken. The stars in their courses
4602fight against me, Marilla. Diana and I are parted forever. Oh, Marilla,
4603I little dreamed of this when first we swore our vows of friendship.”
4604
4605“Don’t be foolish, Anne. Mrs. Barry will think better of it when she
4606finds you’re not to blame. I suppose she thinks you’ve done it for a
4607silly joke or something of that sort. You’d best go up this evening and
4608tell her how it was.”
4609
4610“My courage fails me at the thought of facing Diana’s injured mother,”
4611 sighed Anne. “I wish you’d go, Marilla. You’re so much more dignified
4612than I am. Likely she’d listen to you quicker than to me.”
4613
4614“Well, I will,” said Marilla, reflecting that it would probably be the
4615wiser course. “Don’t cry any more, Anne. It will be all right.”
4616
4617Marilla had changed her mind about it being all right by the time she
4618got back from Orchard Slope. Anne was watching for her coming and flew
4619to the porch door to meet her.
4620
4621“Oh, Marilla, I know by your face that it’s been no use,” she said
4622sorrowfully. “Mrs. Barry won’t forgive me?”
4623
4624“Mrs. Barry indeed!” snapped Marilla. “Of all the unreasonable women
4625I ever saw she’s the worst. I told her it was all a mistake and you
4626weren’t to blame, but she just simply didn’t believe me. And she rubbed
4627it well in about my currant wine and how I’d always said it couldn’t
4628have the least effect on anybody. I just told her plainly that currant
4629wine wasn’t meant to be drunk three tumblerfuls at a time and that if a
4630child I had to do with was so greedy I’d sober her up with a right good
4631spanking.”
4632
4633Marilla whisked into the kitchen, grievously disturbed, leaving a very
4634much distracted little soul in the porch behind her. Presently Anne
4635stepped out bareheaded into the chill autumn dusk; very determinedly and
4636steadily she took her way down through the sere clover field over the
4637log bridge and up through the spruce grove, lighted by a pale little
4638moon hanging low over the western woods. Mrs. Barry, coming to the door
4639in answer to a timid knock, found a white-lipped eager-eyed suppliant on
4640the doorstep.
4641
4642Her face hardened. Mrs. Barry was a woman of strong prejudices and
4643dislikes, and her anger was of the cold, sullen sort which is always
4644hardest to overcome. To do her justice, she really believed Anne had
4645made Diana drunk out of sheer malice prepense, and she was honestly
4646anxious to preserve her little daughter from the contamination of
4647further intimacy with such a child.
4648
4649“What do you want?” she said stiffly.
4650
4651Anne clasped her hands.
4652
4653“Oh, Mrs. Barry, please forgive me. I did not mean to--to--intoxicate
4654Diana. How could I? Just imagine if you were a poor little orphan girl
4655that kind people had adopted and you had just one bosom friend in all
4656the world. Do you think you would intoxicate her on purpose? I thought
4657it was only raspberry cordial. I was firmly convinced it was raspberry
4658cordial. Oh, please don’t say that you won’t let Diana play with me any
4659more. If you do you will cover my life with a dark cloud of woe.”
4660
4661This speech which would have softened good Mrs. Lynde’s heart in a
4662twinkling, had no effect on Mrs. Barry except to irritate her still
4663more. She was suspicious of Anne’s big words and dramatic gestures and
4664imagined that the child was making fun of her. So she said, coldly and
4665cruelly:
4666
4667“I don’t think you are a fit little girl for Diana to associate with.
4668You’d better go home and behave yourself.”
4669
4670Anne’s lips quivered.
4671
4672“Won’t you let me see Diana just once to say farewell?” she implored.
4673
4674“Diana has gone over to Carmody with her father,” said Mrs. Barry, going
4675in and shutting the door.
4676
4677Anne went back to Green Gables calm with despair.
4678
4679“My last hope is gone,” she told Marilla. “I went up and saw Mrs. Barry
4680myself and she treated me very insultingly. Marilla, I do _not_ think she
4681is a well-bred woman. There is nothing more to do except to pray and I
4682haven’t much hope that that’ll do much good because, Marilla, I do not
4683believe that God Himself can do very much with such an obstinate person
4684as Mrs. Barry.”
4685
4686“Anne, you shouldn’t say such things” rebuked Marilla, striving to
4687overcome that unholy tendency to laughter which she was dismayed to find
4688growing upon her. And indeed, when she told the whole story to Matthew
4689that night, she did laugh heartily over Anne’s tribulations.
4690
4691But when she slipped into the east gable before going to bed and found
4692that Anne had cried herself to sleep an unaccustomed softness crept into
4693her face.
4694
4695“Poor little soul,” she murmured, lifting a loose curl of hair from the
4696child’s tear-stained face. Then she bent down and kissed the flushed
4697cheek on the pillow.
4698
4699
4700
4701CHAPTER XVII. A New Interest in Life
4702
4703
4704|THE next afternoon Anne, bending over her patchwork at the kitchen
4705window, happened to glance out and beheld Diana down by the Dryad’s
4706Bubble beckoning mysteriously. In a trice Anne was out of the house
4707and flying down to the hollow, astonishment and hope struggling in
4708her expressive eyes. But the hope faded when she saw Diana’s dejected
4709countenance.
4710
4711“Your mother hasn’t relented?” she gasped.
4712
4713Diana shook her head mournfully.
4714
4715“No; and oh, Anne, she says I’m never to play with you again. I’ve cried
4716and cried and I told her it wasn’t your fault, but it wasn’t any use. I
4717had ever such a time coaxing her to let me come down and say good-bye to
4718you. She said I was only to stay ten minutes and she’s timing me by the
4719clock.”
4720
4721“Ten minutes isn’t very long to say an eternal farewell in,” said Anne
4722tearfully. “Oh, Diana, will you promise faithfully never to forget
4723me, the friend of your youth, no matter what dearer friends may caress
4724thee?”
4725
4726“Indeed I will,” sobbed Diana, “and I’ll never have another bosom
4727friend--I don’t want to have. I couldn’t love anybody as I love you.”
4728
4729“Oh, Diana,” cried Anne, clasping her hands, “do you _love_ me?”
4730
4731“Why, of course I do. Didn’t you know that?”
4732
4733“No.” Anne drew a long breath. “I thought you _liked_ me of course but I
4734never hoped you _loved_ me. Why, Diana, I didn’t think anybody could
4735love me. Nobody ever has loved me since I can remember. Oh, this is
4736wonderful! It’s a ray of light which will forever shine on the darkness
4737of a path severed from thee, Diana. Oh, just say it once again.”
4738
4739“I love you devotedly, Anne,” said Diana stanchly, “and I always will,
4740you may be sure of that.”
4741
4742“And I will always love thee, Diana,” said Anne, solemnly extending her
4743hand. “In the years to come thy memory will shine like a star over my
4744lonely life, as that last story we read together says. Diana, wilt
4745thou give me a lock of thy jet-black tresses in parting to treasure
4746forevermore?”
4747
4748“Have you got anything to cut it with?” queried Diana, wiping away the
4749tears which Anne’s affecting accents had caused to flow afresh, and
4750returning to practicalities.
4751
4752“Yes. I’ve got my patchwork scissors in my apron pocket fortunately,”
4753 said Anne. She solemnly clipped one of Diana’s curls. “Fare thee well,
4754my beloved friend. Henceforth we must be as strangers though living side
4755by side. But my heart will ever be faithful to thee.”
4756
4757Anne stood and watched Diana out of sight, mournfully waving her hand
4758to the latter whenever she turned to look back. Then she returned to
4759the house, not a little consoled for the time being by this romantic
4760parting.
4761
4762“It is all over,” she informed Marilla. “I shall never have another
4763friend. I’m really worse off than ever before, for I haven’t Katie
4764Maurice and Violetta now. And even if I had it wouldn’t be the same.
4765Somehow, little dream girls are not satisfying after a real friend.
4766Diana and I had such an affecting farewell down by the spring. It will
4767be sacred in my memory forever. I used the most pathetic language I
4768could think of and said ‘thou’ and ‘thee.’ ‘Thou’ and ‘thee’ seem so
4769much more romantic than ‘you.’ Diana gave me a lock of her hair and I’m
4770going to sew it up in a little bag and wear it around my neck all my
4771life. Please see that it is buried with me, for I don’t believe I’ll
4772live very long. Perhaps when she sees me lying cold and dead before her
4773Mrs. Barry may feel remorse for what she has done and will let Diana
4774come to my funeral.”
4775
4776“I don’t think there is much fear of your dying of grief as long as you
4777can talk, Anne,” said Marilla unsympathetically.
4778
4779The following Monday Anne surprised Marilla by coming down from her room
4780with her basket of books on her arm and hip and her lips primmed up into
4781a line of determination.
4782
4783“I’m going back to school,” she announced. “That is all there is left
4784in life for me, now that my friend has been ruthlessly torn from me. In
4785school I can look at her and muse over days departed.”
4786
4787“You’d better muse over your lessons and sums,” said Marilla, concealing
4788her delight at this development of the situation. “If you’re going back
4789to school I hope we’ll hear no more of breaking slates over people’s
4790heads and such carryings on. Behave yourself and do just what your
4791teacher tells you.”
4792
4793“I’ll try to be a model pupil,” agreed Anne dolefully. “There won’t be
4794much fun in it, I expect. Mr. Phillips said Minnie Andrews was a model
4795pupil and there isn’t a spark of imagination or life in her. She is
4796just dull and poky and never seems to have a good time. But I feel so
4797depressed that perhaps it will come easy to me now. I’m going round by
4798the road. I couldn’t bear to go by the Birch Path all alone. I should
4799weep bitter tears if I did.”
4800
4801Anne was welcomed back to school with open arms. Her imagination had
4802been sorely missed in games, her voice in the singing and her dramatic
4803ability in the perusal aloud of books at dinner hour. Ruby Gillis
4804smuggled three blue plums over to her during testament reading; Ella May
4805MacPherson gave her an enormous yellow pansy cut from the covers of a
4806floral catalogue--a species of desk decoration much prized in Avonlea
4807school. Sophia Sloane offered to teach her a perfectly elegant new
4808pattern of knit lace, so nice for trimming aprons. Katie Boulter gave
4809her a perfume bottle to keep slate water in, and Julia Bell copied
4810carefully on a piece of pale pink paper scalloped on the edges the
4811following effusion:
4812
4813
4814  When twilight drops her curtain down
4815  And pins it with a star
4816  Remember that you have a friend
4817  Though she may wander far.
4818
4819
4820“It’s so nice to be appreciated,” sighed Anne rapturously to Marilla
4821that night.
4822
4823The girls were not the only scholars who “appreciated” her. When Anne
4824went to her seat after dinner hour--she had been told by Mr. Phillips to
4825sit with the model Minnie Andrews--she found on her desk a big luscious
4826“strawberry apple.” Anne caught it up all ready to take a bite when she
4827remembered that the only place in Avonlea where strawberry apples grew
4828was in the old Blythe orchard on the other side of the Lake of Shining
4829Waters. Anne dropped the apple as if it were a red-hot coal and
4830ostentatiously wiped her fingers on her handkerchief. The apple lay
4831untouched on her desk until the next morning, when little Timothy
4832Andrews, who swept the school and kindled the fire, annexed it as one
4833of his perquisites. Charlie Sloane’s slate pencil, gorgeously bedizened
4834with striped red and yellow paper, costing two cents where ordinary
4835pencils cost only one, which he sent up to her after dinner hour, met
4836with a more favorable reception. Anne was graciously pleased to accept
4837it and rewarded the donor with a smile which exalted that infatuated
4838youth straightway into the seventh heaven of delight and caused him to
4839make such fearful errors in his dictation that Mr. Phillips kept him in
4840after school to rewrite it.
4841
4842But as,
4843
4844  The Caesar’s pageant shorn of Brutus’ bust
4845  Did but of Rome’s best son remind her more,
4846
4847so the marked absence of any tribute or recognition from Diana Barry who
4848was sitting with Gertie Pye embittered Anne’s little triumph.
4849
4850“Diana might just have smiled at me once, I think,” she mourned to
4851Marilla that night. But the next morning a note most fearfully and
4852wonderfully twisted and folded, and a small parcel were passed across to
4853Anne.
4854
4855Dear Anne (ran the former)
4856
4857
4858Mother says I’m not to play with you or talk to you even in school. It
4859isn’t my fault and don’t be cross at me, because I love you as much
4860as ever. I miss you awfully to tell all my secrets to and I don’t like
4861Gertie Pye one bit. I made you one of the new bookmarkers out of red
4862tissue paper. They are awfully fashionable now and only three girls in
4863school know how to make them. When you look at it remember
4864
4865Your true friend
4866
4867Diana Barry.
4868
4869
4870Anne read the note, kissed the bookmark, and dispatched a prompt reply
4871back to the other side of the school.
4872
4873
4874My own darling Diana:--
4875
4876Of course I am not cross at you because you have to obey your mother.
4877Our spirits can commune. I shall keep your lovely present forever.
4878Minnie Andrews is a very nice little girl--although she has no
4879imagination--but after having been Diana’s busum friend I cannot be
4880Minnie’s. Please excuse mistakes because my spelling isn’t very good
4881yet, although much improoved.
4882
4883Yours until death us do part
4884
4885Anne or Cordelia Shirley.
4886
4887
4888P.S. I shall sleep with your letter under my pillow tonight. A. _or_ C.S.
4889
4890
4891Marilla pessimistically expected more trouble since Anne had again begun
4892to go to school. But none developed. Perhaps Anne caught something of
4893the “model” spirit from Minnie Andrews; at least she got on very well
4894with Mr. Phillips thenceforth. She flung herself into her studies heart
4895and soul, determined not to be outdone in any class by Gilbert Blythe.
4896The rivalry between them was soon apparent; it was entirely good natured
4897on Gilbert’s side; but it is much to be feared that the same thing
4898cannot be said of Anne, who had certainly an unpraiseworthy tenacity for
4899holding grudges. She was as intense in her hatreds as in her loves. She
4900would not stoop to admit that she meant to rival Gilbert in schoolwork,
4901because that would have been to acknowledge his existence which Anne
4902persistently ignored; but the rivalry was there and honors fluctuated
4903between them. Now Gilbert was head of the spelling class; now Anne, with
4904a toss of her long red braids, spelled him down. One morning Gilbert had
4905all his sums done correctly and had his name written on the blackboard
4906on the roll of honor; the next morning Anne, having wrestled wildly with
4907decimals the entire evening before, would be first. One awful day they
4908were ties and their names were written up together. It was almost as bad
4909as a take-notice and Anne’s mortification was as evident as Gilbert’s
4910satisfaction. When the written examinations at the end of each month
4911were held the suspense was terrible. The first month Gilbert came out
4912three marks ahead. The second Anne beat him by five. But her triumph was
4913marred by the fact that Gilbert congratulated her heartily before the
4914whole school. It would have been ever so much sweeter to her if he had
4915felt the sting of his defeat.
4916
4917Mr. Phillips might not be a very good teacher; but a pupil so inflexibly
4918determined on learning as Anne was could hardly escape making progress
4919under any kind of teacher. By the end of the term Anne and Gilbert were
4920both promoted into the fifth class and allowed to begin studying the
4921elements of “the branches”--by which Latin, geometry, French, and
4922algebra were meant. In geometry Anne met her Waterloo.
4923
4924“It’s perfectly awful stuff, Marilla,” she groaned. “I’m sure I’ll never
4925be able to make head or tail of it. There is no scope for imagination in
4926it at all. Mr. Phillips says I’m the worst dunce he ever saw at it.
4927And Gil--I mean some of the others are so smart at it. It is extremely
4928mortifying, Marilla.
4929
4930“Even Diana gets along better than I do. But I don’t mind being beaten
4931by Diana. Even although we meet as strangers now I still love her with
4932an _inextinguishable_ love. It makes me very sad at times to think about
4933her. But really, Marilla, one can’t stay sad very long in such an
4934interesting world, can one?”
4935
4936
4937
4938CHAPTER XVIII. Anne to the Rescue
4939
4940
4941|ALL things great are wound up with all things little. At first glance
4942it might not seem that the decision of a certain Canadian Premier to
4943include Prince Edward Island in a political tour could have much or
4944anything to do with the fortunes of little Anne Shirley at Green Gables.
4945But it had.
4946
4947It was a January the Premier came, to address his loyal supporters and
4948such of his nonsupporters as chose to be present at the monster mass
4949meeting held in Charlottetown. Most of the Avonlea people were on
4950Premier’s side of politics; hence on the night of the meeting nearly
4951all the men and a goodly proportion of the women had gone to town thirty
4952miles away. Mrs. Rachel Lynde had gone too. Mrs. Rachel Lynde was a
4953red-hot politician and couldn’t have believed that the political rally
4954could be carried through without her, although she was on the opposite
4955side of politics. So she went to town and took her husband--Thomas would
4956be useful in looking after the horse--and Marilla Cuthbert with her.
4957Marilla had a sneaking interest in politics herself, and as she thought
4958it might be her only chance to see a real live Premier, she promptly
4959took it, leaving Anne and Matthew to keep house until her return the
4960following day.
4961
4962Hence, while Marilla and Mrs. Rachel were enjoying themselves hugely
4963at the mass meeting, Anne and Matthew had the cheerful kitchen at Green
4964Gables all to themselves. A bright fire was glowing in the old-fashioned
4965Waterloo stove and blue-white frost crystals were shining on the
4966windowpanes. Matthew nodded over a _Farmers’ Advocate_ on the sofa and
4967Anne at the table studied her lessons with grim determination, despite
4968sundry wistful glances at the clock shelf, where lay a new book that
4969Jane Andrews had lent her that day. Jane had assured her that it was
4970warranted to produce any number of thrills, or words to that effect, and
4971Anne’s fingers tingled to reach out for it. But that would mean Gilbert
4972Blythe’s triumph on the morrow. Anne turned her back on the clock shelf
4973and tried to imagine it wasn’t there.
4974
4975“Matthew, did you ever study geometry when you went to school?”
4976
4977“Well now, no, I didn’t,” said Matthew, coming out of his doze with a
4978start.
4979
4980“I wish you had,” sighed Anne, “because then you’d be able to sympathize
4981with me. You can’t sympathize properly if you’ve never studied it. It is
4982casting a cloud over my whole life. I’m such a dunce at it, Matthew.”
4983
4984“Well now, I dunno,” said Matthew soothingly. “I guess you’re all right
4985at anything. Mr. Phillips told me last week in Blair’s store at Carmody
4986that you was the smartest scholar in school and was making rapid
4987progress. ‘Rapid progress’ was his very words. There’s them as runs down
4988Teddy Phillips and says he ain’t much of a teacher, but I guess he’s all
4989right.”
4990
4991Matthew would have thought anyone who praised Anne was “all right.”
4992
4993“I’m sure I’d get on better with geometry if only he wouldn’t change
4994the letters,” complained Anne. “I learn the proposition off by heart and
4995then he draws it on the blackboard and puts different letters from what
4996are in the book and I get all mixed up. I don’t think a teacher should
4997take such a mean advantage, do you? We’re studying agriculture now and
4998I’ve found out at last what makes the roads red. It’s a great comfort.
4999I wonder how Marilla and Mrs. Lynde are enjoying themselves. Mrs. Lynde
5000says Canada is going to the dogs the way things are being run at Ottawa
5001and that it’s an awful warning to the electors. She says if women were
5002allowed to vote we would soon see a blessed change. What way do you
5003vote, Matthew?”
5004
5005“Conservative,” said Matthew promptly. To vote Conservative was part of
5006Matthew’s religion.
5007
5008“Then I’m Conservative too,” said Anne decidedly. “I’m glad because
5009Gil--because some of the boys in school are Grits. I guess Mr. Phillips
5010is a Grit too because Prissy Andrews’s father is one, and Ruby Gillis
5011says that when a man is courting he always has to agree with the girl’s
5012mother in religion and her father in politics. Is that true, Matthew?”
5013
5014“Well now, I dunno,” said Matthew.
5015
5016“Did you ever go courting, Matthew?”
5017
5018“Well now, no, I dunno’s I ever did,” said Matthew, who had certainly
5019never thought of such a thing in his whole existence.
5020
5021Anne reflected with her chin in her hands.
5022
5023“It must be rather interesting, don’t you think, Matthew? Ruby Gillis
5024says when she grows up she’s going to have ever so many beaus on the
5025string and have them all crazy about her; but I think that would be too
5026exciting. I’d rather have just one in his right mind. But Ruby Gillis
5027knows a great deal about such matters because she has so many big
5028sisters, and Mrs. Lynde says the Gillis girls have gone off like hot
5029cakes. Mr. Phillips goes up to see Prissy Andrews nearly every evening.
5030He says it is to help her with her lessons but Miranda Sloane is
5031studying for Queen’s too, and I should think she needed help a lot more
5032than Prissy because she’s ever so much stupider, but he never goes to
5033help her in the evenings at all. There are a great many things in this
5034world that I can’t understand very well, Matthew.”
5035
5036“Well now, I dunno as I comprehend them all myself,” acknowledged
5037Matthew.
5038
5039“Well, I suppose I must finish up my lessons. I won’t allow myself to
5040open that new book Jane lent me until I’m through. But it’s a terrible
5041temptation, Matthew. Even when I turn my back on it I can see it there
5042just as plain. Jane said she cried herself sick over it. I love a book
5043that makes me cry. But I think I’ll carry that book into the sitting
5044room and lock it in the jam closet and give you the key. And you must
5045_not_ give it to me, Matthew, until my lessons are done, not even if
5046I implore you on my bended knees. It’s all very well to say resist
5047temptation, but it’s ever so much easier to resist it if you can’t get
5048the key. And then shall I run down the cellar and get some russets,
5049Matthew? Wouldn’t you like some russets?”
5050
5051“Well now, I dunno but what I would,” said Matthew, who never ate
5052russets but knew Anne’s weakness for them.
5053
5054Just as Anne emerged triumphantly from the cellar with her plateful of
5055russets came the sound of flying footsteps on the icy board walk outside
5056and the next moment the kitchen door was flung open and in rushed Diana
5057Barry, white faced and breathless, with a shawl wrapped hastily around
5058her head. Anne promptly let go of her candle and plate in her surprise,
5059and plate, candle, and apples crashed together down the cellar ladder
5060and were found at the bottom embedded in melted grease, the next day,
5061by Marilla, who gathered them up and thanked mercy the house hadn’t been
5062set on fire.
5063
5064“Whatever is the matter, Diana?” cried Anne. “Has your mother relented
5065at last?”
5066
5067“Oh, Anne, do come quick,” implored Diana nervously. “Minnie May is
5068awful sick--she’s got croup. Young Mary Joe says--and Father and Mother
5069are away to town and there’s nobody to go for the doctor. Minnie May is
5070awful bad and Young Mary Joe doesn’t know what to do--and oh, Anne, I’m
5071so scared!”
5072
5073Matthew, without a word, reached out for cap and coat, slipped past
5074Diana and away into the darkness of the yard.
5075
5076“He’s gone to harness the sorrel mare to go to Carmody for the doctor,”
5077 said Anne, who was hurrying on hood and jacket. “I know it as well as
5078if he’d said so. Matthew and I are such kindred spirits I can read his
5079thoughts without words at all.”
5080
5081“I don’t believe he’ll find the doctor at Carmody,” sobbed Diana. “I
5082know that Dr. Blair went to town and I guess Dr. Spencer would go too.
5083Young Mary Joe never saw anybody with croup and Mrs. Lynde is away. Oh,
5084Anne!”
5085
5086“Don’t cry, Di,” said Anne cheerily. “I know exactly what to do for
5087croup. You forget that Mrs. Hammond had twins three times. When you look
5088after three pairs of twins you naturally get a lot of experience. They
5089all had croup regularly. Just wait till I get the ipecac bottle--you
5090mayn’t have any at your house. Come on now.”
5091
5092The two little girls hastened out hand in hand and hurried through
5093Lover’s Lane and across the crusted field beyond, for the snow was too
5094deep to go by the shorter wood way. Anne, although sincerely sorry
5095for Minnie May, was far from being insensible to the romance of the
5096situation and to the sweetness of once more sharing that romance with a
5097kindred spirit.
5098
5099The night was clear and frosty, all ebony of shadow and silver of snowy
5100slope; big stars were shining over the silent fields; here and there the
5101dark pointed firs stood up with snow powdering their branches and the
5102wind whistling through them. Anne thought it was truly delightful to go
5103skimming through all this mystery and loveliness with your bosom friend
5104who had been so long estranged.
5105
5106Minnie May, aged three, was really very sick. She lay on the kitchen
5107sofa feverish and restless, while her hoarse breathing could be heard
5108all over the house. Young Mary Joe, a buxom, broad-faced French girl
5109from the creek, whom Mrs. Barry had engaged to stay with the children
5110during her absence, was helpless and bewildered, quite incapable of
5111thinking what to do, or doing it if she thought of it.
5112
5113Anne went to work with skill and promptness.
5114
5115“Minnie May has croup all right; she’s pretty bad, but I’ve seen them
5116worse. First we must have lots of hot water. I declare, Diana, there
5117isn’t more than a cupful in the kettle! There, I’ve filled it up, and,
5118Mary Joe, you may put some wood in the stove. I don’t want to hurt your
5119feelings but it seems to me you might have thought of this before if
5120you’d any imagination. Now, I’ll undress Minnie May and put her to bed
5121and you try to find some soft flannel cloths, Diana. I’m going to give
5122her a dose of ipecac first of all.”
5123
5124Minnie May did not take kindly to the ipecac but Anne had not brought up
5125three pairs of twins for nothing. Down that ipecac went, not only once,
5126but many times during the long, anxious night when the two little girls
5127worked patiently over the suffering Minnie May, and Young Mary Joe,
5128honestly anxious to do all she could, kept up a roaring fire and heated
5129more water than would have been needed for a hospital of croupy babies.
5130
5131It was three o’clock when Matthew came with a doctor, for he had been
5132obliged to go all the way to Spencervale for one. But the pressing need
5133for assistance was past. Minnie May was much better and was sleeping
5134soundly.
5135
5136“I was awfully near giving up in despair,” explained Anne. “She got
5137worse and worse until she was sicker than ever the Hammond twins were,
5138even the last pair. I actually thought she was going to choke to death.
5139I gave her every drop of ipecac in that bottle and when the last dose
5140went down I said to myself--not to Diana or Young Mary Joe, because I
5141didn’t want to worry them any more than they were worried, but I had
5142to say it to myself just to relieve my feelings--‘This is the last
5143lingering hope and I fear, tis a vain one.’ But in about three minutes
5144she coughed up the phlegm and began to get better right away. You must
5145just imagine my relief, doctor, because I can’t express it in words. You
5146know there are some things that cannot be expressed in words.”
5147
5148“Yes, I know,” nodded the doctor. He looked at Anne as if he were
5149thinking some things about her that couldn’t be expressed in words.
5150Later on, however, he expressed them to Mr. and Mrs. Barry.
5151
5152“That little redheaded girl they have over at Cuthbert’s is as smart as
5153they make ‘em. I tell you she saved that baby’s life, for it would have
5154been too late by the time I got there. She seems to have a skill and
5155presence of mind perfectly wonderful in a child of her age. I never saw
5156anything like the eyes of her when she was explaining the case to me.”
5157
5158Anne had gone home in the wonderful, white-frosted winter morning, heavy
5159eyed from loss of sleep, but still talking unweariedly to Matthew as
5160they crossed the long white field and walked under the glittering fairy
5161arch of the Lover’s Lane maples.
5162
5163“Oh, Matthew, isn’t it a wonderful morning? The world looks like
5164something God had just imagined for His own pleasure, doesn’t it? Those
5165trees look as if I could blow them away with a breath--pouf! I’m so glad
5166I live in a world where there are white frosts, aren’t you? And I’m so
5167glad Mrs. Hammond had three pairs of twins after all. If she hadn’t I
5168mightn’t have known what to do for Minnie May. I’m real sorry I was
5169ever cross with Mrs. Hammond for having twins. But, oh, Matthew, I’m so
5170sleepy. I can’t go to school. I just know I couldn’t keep my eyes open
5171and I’d be so stupid. But I hate to stay home, for Gil--some of
5172the others will get head of the class, and it’s so hard to get up
5173again--although of course the harder it is the more satisfaction you
5174have when you do get up, haven’t you?”
5175
5176“Well now, I guess you’ll manage all right,” said Matthew, looking at
5177Anne’s white little face and the dark shadows under her eyes. “You just
5178go right to bed and have a good sleep. I’ll do all the chores.”
5179
5180Anne accordingly went to bed and slept so long and soundly that it
5181was well on in the white and rosy winter afternoon when she awoke and
5182descended to the kitchen where Marilla, who had arrived home in the
5183meantime, was sitting knitting.
5184
5185“Oh, did you see the Premier?” exclaimed Anne at once. “What did he look
5186like Marilla?”
5187
5188“Well, he never got to be Premier on account of his looks,” said
5189Marilla. “Such a nose as that man had! But he can speak. I was proud of
5190being a Conservative. Rachel Lynde, of course, being a Liberal, had no
5191use for him. Your dinner is in the oven, Anne, and you can get yourself
5192some blue plum preserve out of the pantry. I guess you’re hungry.
5193Matthew has been telling me about last night. I must say it was
5194fortunate you knew what to do. I wouldn’t have had any idea myself, for
5195I never saw a case of croup. There now, never mind talking till you’ve
5196had your dinner. I can tell by the look of you that you’re just full up
5197with speeches, but they’ll keep.”
5198
5199Marilla had something to tell Anne, but she did not tell it just then
5200for she knew if she did Anne’s consequent excitement would lift her
5201clear out of the region of such material matters as appetite or dinner.
5202Not until Anne had finished her saucer of blue plums did Marilla say:
5203
5204“Mrs. Barry was here this afternoon, Anne. She wanted to see you, but I
5205wouldn’t wake you up. She says you saved Minnie May’s life, and she is
5206very sorry she acted as she did in that affair of the currant wine. She
5207says she knows now you didn’t mean to set Diana drunk, and she hopes
5208you’ll forgive her and be good friends with Diana again. You’re to go
5209over this evening if you like for Diana can’t stir outside the door
5210on account of a bad cold she caught last night. Now, Anne Shirley, for
5211pity’s sake don’t fly up into the air.”
5212
5213The warning seemed not unnecessary, so uplifted and aerial was Anne’s
5214expression and attitude as she sprang to her feet, her face irradiated
5215with the flame of her spirit.
5216
5217“Oh, Marilla, can I go right now--without washing my dishes? I’ll wash
5218them when I come back, but I cannot tie myself down to anything so
5219unromantic as dishwashing at this thrilling moment.”
5220
5221“Yes, yes, run along,” said Marilla indulgently. “Anne Shirley--are you
5222crazy? Come back this instant and put something on you. I might as well
5223call to the wind. She’s gone without a cap or wrap. Look at her tearing
5224through the orchard with her hair streaming. It’ll be a mercy if she
5225doesn’t catch her death of cold.”
5226
5227Anne came dancing home in the purple winter twilight across the snowy
5228places. Afar in the southwest was the great shimmering, pearl-like
5229sparkle of an evening star in a sky that was pale golden and ethereal
5230rose over gleaming white spaces and dark glens of spruce. The tinkles
5231of sleigh bells among the snowy hills came like elfin chimes through
5232the frosty air, but their music was not sweeter than the song in Anne’s
5233heart and on her lips.
5234
5235“You see before you a perfectly happy person, Marilla,” she announced.
5236“I’m perfectly happy--yes, in spite of my red hair. Just at present I
5237have a soul above red hair. Mrs. Barry kissed me and cried and said she
5238was so sorry and she could never repay me. I felt fearfully embarrassed,
5239Marilla, but I just said as politely as I could, ‘I have no hard
5240feelings for you, Mrs. Barry. I assure you once for all that I did not
5241mean to intoxicate Diana and henceforth I shall cover the past with the
5242mantle of oblivion.’ That was a pretty dignified way of speaking wasn’t
5243it, Marilla?”
5244
5245“I felt that I was heaping coals of fire on Mrs. Barry’s head. And Diana
5246and I had a lovely afternoon. Diana showed me a new fancy crochet stitch
5247her aunt over at Carmody taught her. Not a soul in Avonlea knows it but
5248us, and we pledged a solemn vow never to reveal it to anyone else. Diana
5249gave me a beautiful card with a wreath of roses on it and a verse of
5250poetry:”
5251
5252      “If you love me as I love you
5253      Nothing but death can part us two.”
5254
5255“And that is true, Marilla. We’re going to ask Mr. Phillips to let us
5256sit together in school again, and Gertie Pye can go with Minnie Andrews.
5257We had an elegant tea. Mrs. Barry had the very best china set out,
5258Marilla, just as if I was real company. I can’t tell you what a thrill
5259it gave me. Nobody ever used their very best china on my account before.
5260And we had fruit cake and pound cake and doughnuts and two kinds of
5261preserves, Marilla. And Mrs. Barry asked me if I took tea and said ‘Pa,
5262why don’t you pass the biscuits to Anne?’ It must be lovely to be grown
5263up, Marilla, when just being treated as if you were is so nice.”
5264
5265“I don’t know about that,” said Marilla, with a brief sigh.
5266
5267“Well, anyway, when I am grown up,” said Anne decidedly, “I’m always
5268going to talk to little girls as if they were too, and I’ll never laugh
5269when they use big words. I know from sorrowful experience how that hurts
5270one’s feelings. After tea Diana and I made taffy. The taffy wasn’t very
5271good, I suppose because neither Diana nor I had ever made any before.
5272Diana left me to stir it while she buttered the plates and I forgot and
5273let it burn; and then when we set it out on the platform to cool the cat
5274walked over one plate and that had to be thrown away. But the making of
5275it was splendid fun. Then when I came home Mrs. Barry asked me to come
5276over as often as I could and Diana stood at the window and threw kisses
5277to me all the way down to Lover’s Lane. I assure you, Marilla, that I
5278feel like praying tonight and I’m going to think out a special brand-new
5279prayer in honor of the occasion.”
5280
5281
5282
5283CHAPTER XIX. A Concert a Catastrophe and a Confession
5284
5285
5286|MARILLA, can I go over to see Diana just for a minute?” asked Anne,
5287running breathlessly down from the east gable one February evening.
5288
5289“I don’t see what you want to be traipsing about after dark for,” said
5290Marilla shortly. “You and Diana walked home from school together and
5291then stood down there in the snow for half an hour more, your tongues
5292going the whole blessed time, clickety-clack. So I don’t think you’re
5293very badly off to see her again.”
5294
5295“But she wants to see me,” pleaded Anne. “She has something very
5296important to tell me.”
5297
5298“How do you know she has?”
5299
5300“Because she just signaled to me from her window. We have arranged a
5301way to signal with our candles and cardboard. We set the candle on the
5302window sill and make flashes by passing the cardboard back and forth. So
5303many flashes mean a certain thing. It was my idea, Marilla.”
5304
5305“I’ll warrant you it was,” said Marilla emphatically. “And the next
5306thing you’ll be setting fire to the curtains with your signaling
5307nonsense.”
5308
5309“Oh, we’re very careful, Marilla. And it’s so interesting. Two flashes
5310mean, ‘Are you there?’ Three mean ‘yes’ and four ‘no.’ Five mean, ‘Come
5311over as soon as possible, because I have something important to reveal.’
5312Diana has just signaled five flashes, and I’m really suffering to know
5313what it is.”
5314
5315“Well, you needn’t suffer any longer,” said Marilla sarcastically. “You
5316can go, but you’re to be back here in just ten minutes, remember that.”
5317
5318Anne did remember it and was back in the stipulated time, although
5319probably no mortal will ever know just what it cost her to confine the
5320discussion of Diana’s important communication within the limits of ten
5321minutes. But at least she had made good use of them.
5322
5323“Oh, Marilla, what do you think? You know tomorrow is Diana’s birthday.
5324Well, her mother told her she could ask me to go home with her from
5325school and stay all night with her. And her cousins are coming over from
5326Newbridge in a big pung sleigh to go to the Debating Club concert at
5327the hall tomorrow night. And they are going to take Diana and me to the
5328concert--if you’ll let me go, that is. You will, won’t you, Marilla? Oh,
5329I feel so excited.”
5330
5331“You can calm down then, because you’re not going. You’re better at home
5332in your own bed, and as for that club concert, it’s all nonsense, and
5333little girls should not be allowed to go out to such places at all.”
5334
5335“I’m sure the Debating Club is a most respectable affair,” pleaded Anne.
5336
5337“I’m not saying it isn’t. But you’re not going to begin gadding about
5338to concerts and staying out all hours of the night. Pretty doings for
5339children. I’m surprised at Mrs. Barry’s letting Diana go.”
5340
5341“But it’s such a very special occasion,” mourned Anne, on the verge of
5342tears. “Diana has only one birthday in a year. It isn’t as if birthdays
5343were common things, Marilla. Prissy Andrews is going to recite ‘Curfew
5344Must Not Ring Tonight.’ That is such a good moral piece, Marilla, I’m
5345sure it would do me lots of good to hear it. And the choir are going to
5346sing four lovely pathetic songs that are pretty near as good as hymns.
5347And oh, Marilla, the minister is going to take part; yes, indeed, he is;
5348he’s going to give an address. That will be just about the same thing as
5349a sermon. Please, mayn’t I go, Marilla?”
5350
5351“You heard what I said, Anne, didn’t you? Take off your boots now and go
5352to bed. It’s past eight.”
5353
5354“There’s just one more thing, Marilla,” said Anne, with the air of
5355producing the last shot in her locker. “Mrs. Barry told Diana that we
5356might sleep in the spare-room bed. Think of the honor of your little
5357Anne being put in the spare-room bed.”
5358
5359“It’s an honor you’ll have to get along without. Go to bed, Anne, and
5360don’t let me hear another word out of you.”
5361
5362When Anne, with tears rolling over her cheeks, had gone sorrowfully
5363upstairs, Matthew, who had been apparently sound asleep on the lounge
5364during the whole dialogue, opened his eyes and said decidedly:
5365
5366“Well now, Marilla, I think you ought to let Anne go.”
5367
5368“I don’t then,” retorted Marilla. “Who’s bringing this child up,
5369Matthew, you or me?”
5370
5371“Well now, you,” admitted Matthew.
5372
5373“Don’t interfere then.”
5374
5375“Well now, I ain’t interfering. It ain’t interfering to have your own
5376opinion. And my opinion is that you ought to let Anne go.”
5377
5378“You’d think I ought to let Anne go to the moon if she took the notion,
5379I’ve no doubt” was Marilla’s amiable rejoinder. “I might have let her
5380spend the night with Diana, if that was all. But I don’t approve of this
5381concert plan. She’d go there and catch cold like as not, and have her
5382head filled up with nonsense and excitement. It would unsettle her for
5383a week. I understand that child’s disposition and what’s good for it
5384better than you, Matthew.”
5385
5386“I think you ought to let Anne go,” repeated Matthew firmly. Argument
5387was not his strong point, but holding fast to his opinion certainly was.
5388Marilla gave a gasp of helplessness and took refuge in silence. The
5389next morning, when Anne was washing the breakfast dishes in the pantry,
5390Matthew paused on his way out to the barn to say to Marilla again:
5391
5392“I think you ought to let Anne go, Marilla.”
5393
5394For a moment Marilla looked things not lawful to be uttered. Then she
5395yielded to the inevitable and said tartly:
5396
5397“Very well, she can go, since nothing else ‘ll please you.”
5398
5399Anne flew out of the pantry, dripping dishcloth in hand.
5400
5401“Oh, Marilla, Marilla, say those blessed words again.”
5402
5403“I guess once is enough to say them. This is Matthew’s doings and I
5404wash my hands of it. If you catch pneumonia sleeping in a strange bed or
5405coming out of that hot hall in the middle of the night, don’t blame me,
5406blame Matthew. Anne Shirley, you’re dripping greasy water all over the
5407floor. I never saw such a careless child.”
5408
5409“Oh, I know I’m a great trial to you, Marilla,” said Anne repentantly.
5410“I make so many mistakes. But then just think of all the mistakes I
5411don’t make, although I might. I’ll get some sand and scrub up the spots
5412before I go to school. Oh, Marilla, my heart was just set on going to
5413that concert. I never was to a concert in my life, and when the other
5414girls talk about them in school I feel so out of it. You didn’t know
5415just how I felt about it, but you see Matthew did. Matthew understands
5416me, and it’s so nice to be understood, Marilla.”
5417
5418Anne was too excited to do herself justice as to lessons that morning in
5419school. Gilbert Blythe spelled her down in class and left her clear out
5420of sight in mental arithmetic. Anne’s consequent humiliation was
5421less than it might have been, however, in view of the concert and the
5422spare-room bed. She and Diana talked so constantly about it all day that
5423with a stricter teacher than Mr. Phillips dire disgrace must inevitably
5424have been their portion.
5425
5426Anne felt that she could not have borne it if she had not been going
5427to the concert, for nothing else was discussed that day in school. The
5428Avonlea Debating Club, which met fortnightly all winter, had had several
5429smaller free entertainments; but this was to be a big affair, admission
5430ten cents, in aid of the library. The Avonlea young people had been
5431practicing for weeks, and all the scholars were especially interested in
5432it by reason of older brothers and sisters who were going to take part.
5433Everybody in school over nine years of age expected to go, except Carrie
5434Sloane, whose father shared Marilla’s opinions about small girls going
5435out to night concerts. Carrie Sloane cried into her grammar all the
5436afternoon and felt that life was not worth living.
5437
5438For Anne the real excitement began with the dismissal of school and
5439increased therefrom in crescendo until it reached to a crash of positive
5440ecstasy in the concert itself. They had a “perfectly elegant tea;” and
5441then came the delicious occupation of dressing in Diana’s little room
5442upstairs. Diana did Anne’s front hair in the new pompadour style and
5443Anne tied Diana’s bows with the especial knack she possessed; and they
5444experimented with at least half a dozen different ways of arranging
5445their back hair. At last they were ready, cheeks scarlet and eyes
5446glowing with excitement.
5447
5448True, Anne could not help a little pang when she contrasted her plain
5449black tam and shapeless, tight-sleeved, homemade gray-cloth coat with
5450Diana’s jaunty fur cap and smart little jacket. But she remembered in
5451time that she had an imagination and could use it.
5452
5453Then Diana’s cousins, the Murrays from Newbridge, came; they all crowded
5454into the big pung sleigh, among straw and furry robes. Anne reveled in
5455the drive to the hall, slipping along over the satin-smooth roads with
5456the snow crisping under the runners. There was a magnificent sunset, and
5457the snowy hills and deep-blue water of the St. Lawrence Gulf seemed to
5458rim in the splendor like a huge bowl of pearl and sapphire brimmed with
5459wine and fire. Tinkles of sleigh bells and distant laughter, that seemed
5460like the mirth of wood elves, came from every quarter.
5461
5462“Oh, Diana,” breathed Anne, squeezing Diana’s mittened hand under the
5463fur robe, “isn’t it all like a beautiful dream? Do I really look the
5464same as usual? I feel so different that it seems to me it must show in
5465my looks.”
5466
5467“You look awfully nice,” said Diana, who having just received a
5468compliment from one of her cousins, felt that she ought to pass it on.
5469“You’ve got the loveliest color.”
5470
5471The program that night was a series of “thrills” for at least one
5472listener in the audience, and, as Anne assured Diana, every succeeding
5473thrill was thrillier than the last. When Prissy Andrews, attired in
5474a new pink-silk waist with a string of pearls about her smooth white
5475throat and real carnations in her hair--rumor whispered that the master
5476had sent all the way to town for them for her--“climbed the slimy
5477ladder, dark without one ray of light,” Anne shivered in luxurious
5478sympathy; when the choir sang “Far Above the Gentle Daisies” Anne gazed
5479at the ceiling as if it were frescoed with angels; when Sam Sloane
5480proceeded to explain and illustrate “How Sockery Set a Hen” Anne laughed
5481until people sitting near her laughed too, more out of sympathy with her
5482than with amusement at a selection that was rather threadbare even in
5483Avonlea; and when Mr. Phillips gave Mark Antony’s oration over the
5484dead body of Caesar in the most heart-stirring tones--looking at Prissy
5485Andrews at the end of every sentence--Anne felt that she could rise and
5486mutiny on the spot if but one Roman citizen led the way.
5487
5488Only one number on the program failed to interest her. When Gilbert
5489Blythe recited “Bingen on the Rhine” Anne picked up Rhoda Murray’s
5490library book and read it until he had finished, when she sat rigidly
5491stiff and motionless while Diana clapped her hands until they tingled.
5492
5493It was eleven when they got home, sated with dissipation, but with the
5494exceeding sweet pleasure of talking it all over still to come. Everybody
5495seemed asleep and the house was dark and silent. Anne and Diana tiptoed
5496into the parlor, a long narrow room out of which the spare room opened.
5497It was pleasantly warm and dimly lighted by the embers of a fire in the
5498grate.
5499
5500“Let’s undress here,” said Diana. “It’s so nice and warm.”
5501
5502“Hasn’t it been a delightful time?” sighed Anne rapturously. “It must
5503be splendid to get up and recite there. Do you suppose we will ever be
5504asked to do it, Diana?”
5505
5506“Yes, of course, someday. They’re always wanting the big scholars to
5507recite. Gilbert Blythe does often and he’s only two years older than us.
5508Oh, Anne, how could you pretend not to listen to him? When he came to
5509the line,
5510
5511           ‘_There’s Another_, not _a sister_,’
5512
5513he looked right down at you.”
5514
5515“Diana,” said Anne with dignity, “you are my bosom friend, but I cannot
5516allow even you to speak to me of that person. Are you ready for bed?
5517Let’s run a race and see who’ll get to the bed first.”
5518
5519The suggestion appealed to Diana. The two little white-clad figures flew
5520down the long room, through the spare-room door, and bounded on the bed
5521at the same moment. And then--something--moved beneath them, there was a
5522gasp and a cry--and somebody said in muffled accents:
5523
5524“Merciful goodness!”
5525
5526Anne and Diana were never able to tell just how they got off that bed
5527and out of the room. They only knew that after one frantic rush they
5528found themselves tiptoeing shiveringly upstairs.
5529
5530“Oh, who was it--_what_ was it?” whispered Anne, her teeth chattering with
5531cold and fright.
5532
5533“It was Aunt Josephine,” said Diana, gasping with laughter. “Oh, Anne,
5534it was Aunt Josephine, however she came to be there. Oh, and I know she
5535will be furious. It’s dreadful--it’s really dreadful--but did you ever
5536know anything so funny, Anne?”
5537
5538“Who is your Aunt Josephine?”
5539
5540“She’s father’s aunt and she lives in Charlottetown. She’s awfully
5541old--seventy anyhow--and I don’t believe she was _ever_ a little girl. We
5542were expecting her out for a visit, but not so soon. She’s awfully prim
5543and proper and she’ll scold dreadfully about this, I know. Well, we’ll
5544have to sleep with Minnie May--and you can’t think how she kicks.”
5545
5546Miss Josephine Barry did not appear at the early breakfast the next
5547morning. Mrs. Barry smiled kindly at the two little girls.
5548
5549“Did you have a good time last night? I tried to stay awake until you
5550came home, for I wanted to tell you Aunt Josephine had come and that you
5551would have to go upstairs after all, but I was so tired I fell asleep. I
5552hope you didn’t disturb your aunt, Diana.”
5553
5554Diana preserved a discreet silence, but she and Anne exchanged furtive
5555smiles of guilty amusement across the table. Anne hurried home after
5556breakfast and so remained in blissful ignorance of the disturbance which
5557presently resulted in the Barry household until the late afternoon, when
5558she went down to Mrs. Lynde’s on an errand for Marilla.
5559
5560“So you and Diana nearly frightened poor old Miss Barry to death last
5561night?” said Mrs. Lynde severely, but with a twinkle in her eye. “Mrs.
5562Barry was here a few minutes ago on her way to Carmody. She’s feeling
5563real worried over it. Old Miss Barry was in a terrible temper when she
5564got up this morning--and Josephine Barry’s temper is no joke, I can tell
5565you that. She wouldn’t speak to Diana at all.”
5566
5567“It wasn’t Diana’s fault,” said Anne contritely. “It was mine. I
5568suggested racing to see who would get into bed first.”
5569
5570“I knew it!” said Mrs. Lynde, with the exultation of a correct guesser.
5571“I knew that idea came out of your head. Well, it’s made a nice lot of
5572trouble, that’s what. Old Miss Barry came out to stay for a month, but
5573she declares she won’t stay another day and is going right back to town
5574tomorrow, Sunday and all as it is. She’d have gone today if they could
5575have taken her. She had promised to pay for a quarter’s music lessons
5576for Diana, but now she is determined to do nothing at all for such a
5577tomboy. Oh, I guess they had a lively time of it there this morning. The
5578Barrys must feel cut up. Old Miss Barry is rich and they’d like to keep
5579on the good side of her. Of course, Mrs. Barry didn’t say just that to
5580me, but I’m a pretty good judge of human nature, that’s what.”
5581
5582“I’m such an unlucky girl,” mourned Anne. “I’m always getting into
5583scrapes myself and getting my best friends--people I’d shed my heart’s
5584blood for--into them too. Can you tell me why it is so, Mrs. Lynde?”
5585
5586“It’s because you’re too heedless and impulsive, child, that’s what. You
5587never stop to think--whatever comes into your head to say or do you say
5588or do it without a moment’s reflection.”
5589
5590“Oh, but that’s the best of it,” protested Anne. “Something just flashes
5591into your mind, so exciting, and you must out with it. If you stop to
5592think it over you spoil it all. Haven’t you never felt that yourself,
5593Mrs. Lynde?”
5594
5595No, Mrs. Lynde had not. She shook her head sagely.
5596
5597“You must learn to think a little, Anne, that’s what. The proverb you
5598need to go by is ‘Look before you leap’--especially into spare-room
5599beds.”
5600
5601Mrs. Lynde laughed comfortably over her mild joke, but Anne remained
5602pensive. She saw nothing to laugh at in the situation, which to her
5603eyes appeared very serious. When she left Mrs. Lynde’s she took her way
5604across the crusted fields to Orchard Slope. Diana met her at the kitchen
5605door.
5606
5607“Your Aunt Josephine was very cross about it, wasn’t she?” whispered
5608Anne.
5609
5610“Yes,” answered Diana, stifling a giggle with an apprehensive glance
5611over her shoulder at the closed sitting-room door. “She was fairly
5612dancing with rage, Anne. Oh, how she scolded. She said I was the
5613worst-behaved girl she ever saw and that my parents ought to be ashamed
5614of the way they had brought me up. She says she won’t stay and I’m sure
5615I don’t care. But Father and Mother do.”
5616
5617“Why didn’t you tell them it was my fault?” demanded Anne.
5618
5619“It’s likely I’d do such a thing, isn’t it?” said Diana with just scorn.
5620“I’m no telltale, Anne Shirley, and anyhow I was just as much to blame
5621as you.”
5622
5623“Well, I’m going in to tell her myself,” said Anne resolutely.
5624
5625Diana stared.
5626
5627“Anne Shirley, you’d never! why--she’ll eat you alive!”
5628
5629“Don’t frighten me any more than I am frightened,” implored Anne. “I’d
5630rather walk up to a cannon’s mouth. But I’ve got to do it, Diana. It
5631was my fault and I’ve got to confess. I’ve had practice in confessing,
5632fortunately.”
5633
5634“Well, she’s in the room,” said Diana. “You can go in if you want to. I
5635wouldn’t dare. And I don’t believe you’ll do a bit of good.”
5636
5637With this encouragement Anne bearded the lion in its den--that is to
5638say, walked resolutely up to the sitting-room door and knocked faintly.
5639A sharp “Come in” followed.
5640
5641Miss Josephine Barry, thin, prim, and rigid, was knitting fiercely by
5642the fire, her wrath quite unappeased and her eyes snapping through her
5643gold-rimmed glasses. She wheeled around in her chair, expecting to see
5644Diana, and beheld a white-faced girl whose great eyes were brimmed up
5645with a mixture of desperate courage and shrinking terror.
5646
5647“Who are you?” demanded Miss Josephine Barry, without ceremony.
5648
5649“I’m Anne of Green Gables,” said the small visitor tremulously, clasping
5650her hands with her characteristic gesture, “and I’ve come to confess, if
5651you please.”
5652
5653“Confess what?”
5654
5655“That it was all my fault about jumping into bed on you last night. I
5656suggested it. Diana would never have thought of such a thing, I am sure.
5657Diana is a very ladylike girl, Miss Barry. So you must see how unjust it
5658is to blame her.”
5659
5660“Oh, I must, hey? I rather think Diana did her share of the jumping at
5661least. Such carryings on in a respectable house!”
5662
5663“But we were only in fun,” persisted Anne. “I think you ought to forgive
5664us, Miss Barry, now that we’ve apologized. And anyhow, please forgive
5665Diana and let her have her music lessons. Diana’s heart is set on her
5666music lessons, Miss Barry, and I know too well what it is to set your
5667heart on a thing and not get it. If you must be cross with anyone, be
5668cross with me. I’ve been so used in my early days to having people cross
5669at me that I can endure it much better than Diana can.”
5670
5671Much of the snap had gone out of the old lady’s eyes by this time
5672and was replaced by a twinkle of amused interest. But she still said
5673severely:
5674
5675“I don’t think it is any excuse for you that you were only in fun.
5676Little girls never indulged in that kind of fun when I was young. You
5677don’t know what it is to be awakened out of a sound sleep, after a long
5678and arduous journey, by two great girls coming bounce down on you.”
5679
5680“I don’t _know_, but I can _imagine_,” said Anne eagerly. “I’m sure it must
5681have been very disturbing. But then, there is our side of it too. Have
5682you any imagination, Miss Barry? If you have, just put yourself in
5683our place. We didn’t know there was anybody in that bed and you nearly
5684scared us to death. It was simply awful the way we felt. And then we
5685couldn’t sleep in the spare room after being promised. I suppose you are
5686used to sleeping in spare rooms. But just imagine what you would feel
5687like if you were a little orphan girl who had never had such an honor.”
5688
5689All the snap had gone by this time. Miss Barry actually laughed--a
5690sound which caused Diana, waiting in speechless anxiety in the kitchen
5691outside, to give a great gasp of relief.
5692
5693“I’m afraid my imagination is a little rusty--it’s so long since I used
5694it,” she said. “I dare say your claim to sympathy is just as strong as
5695mine. It all depends on the way we look at it. Sit down here and tell me
5696about yourself.”
5697
5698“I am very sorry I can’t,” said Anne firmly. “I would like to, because
5699you seem like an interesting lady, and you might even be a kindred
5700spirit although you don’t look very much like it. But it is my duty to
5701go home to Miss Marilla Cuthbert. Miss Marilla Cuthbert is a very kind
5702lady who has taken me to bring up properly. She is doing her best, but
5703it is very discouraging work. You must not blame her because I jumped on
5704the bed. But before I go I do wish you would tell me if you will forgive
5705Diana and stay just as long as you meant to in Avonlea.”
5706
5707“I think perhaps I will if you will come over and talk to me
5708occasionally,” said Miss Barry.
5709
5710That evening Miss Barry gave Diana a silver bangle bracelet and told the
5711senior members of the household that she had unpacked her valise.
5712
5713“I’ve made up my mind to stay simply for the sake of getting better
5714acquainted with that Anne-girl,” she said frankly. “She amuses me, and
5715at my time of life an amusing person is a rarity.”
5716
5717Marilla’s only comment when she heard the story was, “I told you so.”
5718 This was for Matthew’s benefit.
5719
5720Miss Barry stayed her month out and over. She was a more agreeable guest
5721than usual, for Anne kept her in good humor. They became firm friends.
5722
5723When Miss Barry went away she said:
5724
5725“Remember, you Anne-girl, when you come to town you’re to visit me and
5726I’ll put you in my very sparest spare-room bed to sleep.”
5727
5728“Miss Barry was a kindred spirit, after all,” Anne confided to Marilla.
5729“You wouldn’t think so to look at her, but she is. You don’t find it
5730right out at first, as in Matthew’s case, but after a while you come
5731to see it. Kindred spirits are not so scarce as I used to think. It’s
5732splendid to find out there are so many of them in the world.”
5733
5734
5735
5736
5737CHAPTER XX. A Good Imagination Gone Wrong
5738
5739
5740|SPRING had come once more to Green Gables--the beautiful capricious,
5741reluctant Canadian spring, lingering along through April and May in a
5742succession of sweet, fresh, chilly days, with pink sunsets and miracles
5743of resurrection and growth. The maples in Lover’s Lane were red budded
5744and little curly ferns pushed up around the Dryad’s Bubble. Away up in
5745the barrens, behind Mr. Silas Sloane’s place, the Mayflowers blossomed
5746out, pink and white stars of sweetness under their brown leaves. All the
5747school girls and boys had one golden afternoon gathering them, coming
5748home in the clear, echoing twilight with arms and baskets full of
5749flowery spoil.
5750
5751“I’m so sorry for people who live in lands where there are no
5752Mayflowers,” said Anne. “Diana says perhaps they have something better,
5753but there couldn’t be anything better than Mayflowers, could there,
5754Marilla? And Diana says if they don’t know what they are like they don’t
5755miss them. But I think that is the saddest thing of all. I think it
5756would be _tragic_, Marilla, not to know what Mayflowers are like and _not_
5757to miss them. Do you know what I think Mayflowers are, Marilla? I think
5758they must be the souls of the flowers that died last summer and this
5759is their heaven. But we had a splendid time today, Marilla. We had our
5760lunch down in a big mossy hollow by an old well--such a _romantic_ spot.
5761Charlie Sloane dared Arty Gillis to jump over it, and Arty did because
5762he wouldn’t take a dare. Nobody would in school. It is very _fashionable_
5763to dare. Mr. Phillips gave all the Mayflowers he found to Prissy Andrews
5764and I heard him to say ‘sweets to the sweet.’ He got that out of a
5765book, I know; but it shows he has some imagination. I was offered some
5766Mayflowers too, but I rejected them with scorn. I can’t tell you the
5767person’s name because I have vowed never to let it cross my lips. We
5768made wreaths of the Mayflowers and put them on our hats; and when the
5769time came to go home we marched in procession down the road, two by two,
5770with our bouquets and wreaths, singing ‘My Home on the Hill.’ Oh, it was
5771so thrilling, Marilla. All Mr. Silas Sloane’s folks rushed out to see us
5772and everybody we met on the road stopped and stared after us. We made a
5773real sensation.”
5774
5775“Not much wonder! Such silly doings!” was Marilla’s response.
5776
5777After the Mayflowers came the violets, and Violet Vale was empurpled
5778with them. Anne walked through it on her way to school with reverent
5779steps and worshiping eyes, as if she trod on holy ground.
5780
5781“Somehow,” she told Diana, “when I’m going through here I don’t really
5782care whether Gil--whether anybody gets ahead of me in class or not. But
5783when I’m up in school it’s all different and I care as much as ever.
5784There’s such a lot of different Annes in me. I sometimes think that is
5785why I’m such a troublesome person. If I was just the one Anne it would
5786be ever so much more comfortable, but then it wouldn’t be half so
5787interesting.”
5788
5789One June evening, when the orchards were pink blossomed again, when the
5790frogs were singing silverly sweet in the marshes about the head of the
5791Lake of Shining Waters, and the air was full of the savor of clover
5792fields and balsamic fir woods, Anne was sitting by her gable window.
5793She had been studying her lessons, but it had grown too dark to see the
5794book, so she had fallen into wide-eyed reverie, looking out past the
5795boughs of the Snow Queen, once more bestarred with its tufts of blossom.
5796
5797In all essential respects the little gable chamber was unchanged. The
5798walls were as white, the pincushion as hard, the chairs as stiffly
5799and yellowly upright as ever. Yet the whole character of the room was
5800altered. It was full of a new vital, pulsing personality that seemed to
5801pervade it and to be quite independent of schoolgirl books and dresses
5802and ribbons, and even of the cracked blue jug full of apple blossoms
5803on the table. It was as if all the dreams, sleeping and waking, of its
5804vivid occupant had taken a visible although unmaterial form and had
5805tapestried the bare room with splendid filmy tissues of rainbow and
5806moonshine. Presently Marilla came briskly in with some of Anne’s freshly
5807ironed school aprons. She hung them over a chair and sat down with
5808a short sigh. She had had one of her headaches that afternoon, and
5809although the pain had gone she felt weak and “tuckered out,” as she
5810expressed it. Anne looked at her with eyes limpid with sympathy.
5811
5812“I do truly wish I could have had the headache in your place, Marilla. I
5813would have endured it joyfully for your sake.”
5814
5815“I guess you did your part in attending to the work and letting me
5816rest,” said Marilla. “You seem to have got on fairly well and made fewer
5817mistakes than usual. Of course it wasn’t exactly necessary to starch
5818Matthew’s handkerchiefs! And most people when they put a pie in the oven
5819to warm up for dinner take it out and eat it when it gets hot instead of
5820leaving it to be burned to a crisp. But that doesn’t seem to be your way
5821evidently.”
5822
5823Headaches always left Marilla somewhat sarcastic.
5824
5825“Oh, I’m so sorry,” said Anne penitently. “I never thought about that
5826pie from the moment I put it in the oven till now, although I felt
5827_instinctively_ that there was something missing on the dinner table. I
5828was firmly resolved, when you left me in charge this morning, not to
5829imagine anything, but keep my thoughts on facts. I did pretty well until
5830I put the pie in, and then an irresistible temptation came to me to
5831imagine I was an enchanted princess shut up in a lonely tower with a
5832handsome knight riding to my rescue on a coal-black steed. So that
5833is how I came to forget the pie. I didn’t know I starched the
5834handkerchiefs. All the time I was ironing I was trying to think of a
5835name for a new island Diana and I have discovered up the brook. It’s the
5836most ravishing spot, Marilla. There are two maple trees on it and the
5837brook flows right around it. At last it struck me that it would be
5838splendid to call it Victoria Island because we found it on the Queen’s
5839birthday. Both Diana and I are very loyal. But I’m sorry about that pie
5840and the handkerchiefs. I wanted to be extra good today because it’s an
5841anniversary. Do you remember what happened this day last year, Marilla?”
5842
5843“No, I can’t think of anything special.”
5844
5845“Oh, Marilla, it was the day I came to Green Gables. I shall never
5846forget it. It was the turning point in my life. Of course it wouldn’t
5847seem so important to you. I’ve been here for a year and I’ve been so
5848happy. Of course, I’ve had my troubles, but one can live down troubles.
5849Are you sorry you kept me, Marilla?”
5850
5851“No, I can’t say I’m sorry,” said Marilla, who sometimes wondered how
5852she could have lived before Anne came to Green Gables, “no, not exactly
5853sorry. If you’ve finished your lessons, Anne, I want you to run over and
5854ask Mrs. Barry if she’ll lend me Diana’s apron pattern.”
5855
5856“Oh--it’s--it’s too dark,” cried Anne.
5857
5858“Too dark? Why, it’s only twilight. And goodness knows you’ve gone over
5859often enough after dark.”
5860
5861“I’ll go over early in the morning,” said Anne eagerly. “I’ll get up at
5862sunrise and go over, Marilla.”
5863
5864“What has got into your head now, Anne Shirley? I want that pattern to
5865cut out your new apron this evening. Go at once and be smart too.”
5866
5867“I’ll have to go around by the road, then,” said Anne, taking up her hat
5868reluctantly.
5869
5870“Go by the road and waste half an hour! I’d like to catch you!”
5871
5872“I can’t go through the Haunted Wood, Marilla,” cried Anne desperately.
5873
5874Marilla stared.
5875
5876“The Haunted Wood! Are you crazy? What under the canopy is the Haunted
5877Wood?”
5878
5879“The spruce wood over the brook,” said Anne in a whisper.
5880
5881“Fiddlesticks! There is no such thing as a haunted wood anywhere. Who
5882has been telling you such stuff?”
5883
5884“Nobody,” confessed Anne. “Diana and I just imagined the wood was
5885haunted. All the places around here are so--so--_commonplace_. We just got
5886this up for our own amusement. We began it in April. A haunted wood is
5887so very romantic, Marilla. We chose the spruce grove because it’s so
5888gloomy. Oh, we have imagined the most harrowing things. There’s a white
5889lady walks along the brook just about this time of the night and wrings
5890her hands and utters wailing cries. She appears when there is to be a
5891death in the family. And the ghost of a little murdered child haunts the
5892corner up by Idlewild; it creeps up behind you and lays its cold fingers
5893on your hand--so. Oh, Marilla, it gives me a shudder to think of it. And
5894there’s a headless man stalks up and down the path and skeletons glower
5895at you between the boughs. Oh, Marilla, I wouldn’t go through the
5896Haunted Wood after dark now for anything. I’d be sure that white things
5897would reach out from behind the trees and grab me.”
5898
5899“Did ever anyone hear the like!” ejaculated Marilla, who had
5900listened in dumb amazement. “Anne Shirley, do you mean to tell me you
5901believe all that wicked nonsense of your own imagination?”
5902
5903“Not believe _exactly_,” faltered Anne. “At least, I don’t believe it in
5904daylight. But after dark, Marilla, it’s different. That is when ghosts
5905walk.”
5906
5907“There are no such things as ghosts, Anne.”
5908
5909“Oh, but there are, Marilla,” cried Anne eagerly. “I know people who
5910have seen them. And they are respectable people. Charlie Sloane says
5911that his grandmother saw his grandfather driving home the cows one night
5912after he’d been buried for a year. You know Charlie Sloane’s grandmother
5913wouldn’t tell a story for anything. She’s a very religious woman. And
5914Mrs. Thomas’s father was pursued home one night by a lamb of fire with
5915its head cut off hanging by a strip of skin. He said he knew it was the
5916spirit of his brother and that it was a warning he would die within nine
5917days. He didn’t, but he died two years after, so you see it was really
5918true. And Ruby Gillis says--”
5919
5920“Anne Shirley,” interrupted Marilla firmly, “I never want to hear you
5921talking in this fashion again. I’ve had my doubts about that imagination
5922of yours right along, and if this is going to be the outcome of it, I
5923won’t countenance any such doings. You’ll go right over to Barry’s, and
5924you’ll go through that spruce grove, just for a lesson and a warning to
5925you. And never let me hear a word out of your head about haunted woods
5926again.”
5927
5928Anne might plead and cry as she liked--and did, for her terror was very
5929real. Her imagination had run away with her and she held the spruce
5930grove in mortal dread after nightfall. But Marilla was inexorable. She
5931marched the shrinking ghost-seer down to the spring and ordered her
5932to proceed straightaway over the bridge and into the dusky retreats of
5933wailing ladies and headless specters beyond.
5934
5935“Oh, Marilla, how can you be so cruel?” sobbed Anne. “What would you
5936feel like if a white thing did snatch me up and carry me off?”
5937
5938“I’ll risk it,” said Marilla unfeelingly. “You know I always mean what I
5939say. I’ll cure you of imagining ghosts into places. March, now.”
5940
5941Anne marched. That is, she stumbled over the bridge and went shuddering
5942up the horrible dim path beyond. Anne never forgot that walk. Bitterly
5943did she repent the license she had given to her imagination. The goblins
5944of her fancy lurked in every shadow about her, reaching out their cold,
5945fleshless hands to grasp the terrified small girl who had called them
5946into being. A white strip of birch bark blowing up from the hollow over
5947the brown floor of the grove made her heart stand still. The long-drawn
5948wail of two old boughs rubbing against each other brought out the
5949perspiration in beads on her forehead. The swoop of bats in the darkness
5950over her was as the wings of unearthly creatures. When she reached Mr.
5951William Bell’s field she fled across it as if pursued by an army of
5952white things, and arrived at the Barry kitchen door so out of breath
5953that she could hardly gasp out her request for the apron pattern.
5954Diana was away so that she had no excuse to linger. The dreadful
5955return journey had to be faced. Anne went back over it with shut eyes,
5956preferring to take the risk of dashing her brains out among the boughs
5957to that of seeing a white thing. When she finally stumbled over the log
5958bridge she drew one long shivering breath of relief.
5959
5960“Well, so nothing caught you?” said Marilla unsympathetically.
5961
5962“Oh, Mar--Marilla,” chattered Anne, “I’ll b-b-be contt-tented with
5963c-c-commonplace places after this.”
5964
5965
5966
5967
5968CHAPTER XXI. A New Departure in Flavorings
5969
5970
5971|DEAR ME, there is nothing but meetings and partings in this world, as
5972Mrs. Lynde says,” remarked Anne plaintively, putting her slate and books
5973down on the kitchen table on the last day of June and wiping her red
5974eyes with a very damp handkerchief. “Wasn’t it fortunate, Marilla, that
5975I took an extra handkerchief to school today? I had a presentiment that
5976it would be needed.”
5977
5978“I never thought you were so fond of Mr. Phillips that you’d require two
5979handkerchiefs to dry your tears just because he was going away,” said
5980Marilla.
5981
5982“I don’t think I was crying because I was really so very fond of him,”
5983 reflected Anne. “I just cried because all the others did. It was
5984Ruby Gillis started it. Ruby Gillis has always declared she hated Mr.
5985Phillips, but just as soon as he got up to make his farewell speech she
5986burst into tears. Then all the girls began to cry, one after the other.
5987I tried to hold out, Marilla. I tried to remember the time Mr. Phillips
5988made me sit with Gil--with a boy; and the time he spelled my name
5989without an ‘e’ on the blackboard; and how he said I was the worst dunce
5990he ever saw at geometry and laughed at my spelling; and all the times he
5991had been so horrid and sarcastic; but somehow I couldn’t, Marilla, and I
5992just had to cry too. Jane Andrews has been talking for a month about how
5993glad she’d be when Mr. Phillips went away and she declared she’d never
5994shed a tear. Well, she was worse than any of us and had to borrow a
5995handkerchief from her brother--of course the boys didn’t cry--because
5996she hadn’t brought one of her own, not expecting to need it. Oh,
5997Marilla, it was heartrending. Mr. Phillips made such a beautiful
5998farewell speech beginning, ‘The time has come for us to part.’ It was
5999very affecting. And he had tears in his eyes too, Marilla. Oh, I felt
6000dreadfully sorry and remorseful for all the times I’d talked in school
6001and drawn pictures of him on my slate and made fun of him and Prissy.
6002I can tell you I wished I’d been a model pupil like Minnie Andrews. She
6003hadn’t anything on her conscience. The girls cried all the way home from
6004school. Carrie Sloane kept saying every few minutes, ‘The time has come
6005for us to part,’ and that would start us off again whenever we were in
6006any danger of cheering up. I do feel dreadfully sad, Marilla. But one
6007can’t feel quite in the depths of despair with two months’ vacation
6008before them, can they, Marilla? And besides, we met the new minister and
6009his wife coming from the station. For all I was feeling so bad about Mr.
6010Phillips going away I couldn’t help taking a little interest in a new
6011minister, could I? His wife is very pretty. Not exactly regally lovely,
6012of course--it wouldn’t do, I suppose, for a minister to have a regally
6013lovely wife, because it might set a bad example. Mrs. Lynde says the
6014minister’s wife over at Newbridge sets a very bad example because she
6015dresses so fashionably. Our new minister’s wife was dressed in blue
6016muslin with lovely puffed sleeves and a hat trimmed with roses.
6017Jane Andrews said she thought puffed sleeves were too worldly for
6018a minister’s wife, but I didn’t make any such uncharitable remark,
6019Marilla, because I know what it is to long for puffed sleeves. Besides,
6020she’s only been a minister’s wife for a little while, so one should
6021make allowances, shouldn’t they? They are going to board with Mrs. Lynde
6022until the manse is ready.”
6023
6024If Marilla, in going down to Mrs. Lynde’s that evening, was actuated by
6025any motive save her avowed one of returning the quilting frames she had
6026borrowed the preceding winter, it was an amiable weakness shared by most
6027of the Avonlea people. Many a thing Mrs. Lynde had lent, sometimes
6028never expecting to see it again, came home that night in charge of the
6029borrowers thereof. A new minister, and moreover a minister with a wife,
6030was a lawful object of curiosity in a quiet little country settlement
6031where sensations were few and far between.
6032
6033Old Mr. Bentley, the minister whom Anne had found lacking in
6034imagination, had been pastor of Avonlea for eighteen years. He was a
6035widower when he came, and a widower he remained, despite the fact that
6036gossip regularly married him to this, that, or the other one, every year
6037of his sojourn. In the preceding February he had resigned his charge and
6038departed amid the regrets of his people, most of whom had the affection
6039born of long intercourse for their good old minister in spite of his
6040shortcomings as an orator. Since then the Avonlea church had enjoyed a
6041variety of religious dissipation in listening to the many and various
6042candidates and “supplies” who came Sunday after Sunday to preach on
6043trial. These stood or fell by the judgment of the fathers and mothers
6044in Israel; but a certain small, red-haired girl who sat meekly in the
6045corner of the old Cuthbert pew also had her opinions about them and
6046discussed the same in full with Matthew, Marilla always declining from
6047principle to criticize ministers in any shape or form.
6048
6049“I don’t think Mr. Smith would have done, Matthew” was Anne’s final
6050summing up. “Mrs. Lynde says his delivery was so poor, but I think his
6051worst fault was just like Mr. Bentley’s--he had no imagination. And Mr.
6052Terry had too much; he let it run away with him just as I did mine in
6053the matter of the Haunted Wood. Besides, Mrs. Lynde says his theology
6054wasn’t sound. Mr. Gresham was a very good man and a very religious man,
6055but he told too many funny stories and made the people laugh in church;
6056he was undignified, and you must have some dignity about a minister,
6057mustn’t you, Matthew? I thought Mr. Marshall was decidedly attractive;
6058but Mrs. Lynde says he isn’t married, or even engaged, because she made
6059special inquiries about him, and she says it would never do to have
6060a young unmarried minister in Avonlea, because he might marry in the
6061congregation and that would make trouble. Mrs. Lynde is a very farseeing
6062woman, isn’t she, Matthew? I’m very glad they’ve called Mr. Allan. I
6063liked him because his sermon was interesting and he prayed as if he
6064meant it and not just as if he did it because he was in the habit of it.
6065Mrs. Lynde says he isn’t perfect, but she says she supposes we couldn’t
6066expect a perfect minister for seven hundred and fifty dollars a year,
6067and anyhow his theology is sound because she questioned him thoroughly
6068on all the points of doctrine. And she knows his wife’s people and they
6069are most respectable and the women are all good housekeepers. Mrs. Lynde
6070says that sound doctrine in the man and good housekeeping in the woman
6071make an ideal combination for a minister’s family.”
6072
6073The new minister and his wife were a young, pleasant-faced couple, still
6074on their honeymoon, and full of all good and beautiful enthusiasms for
6075their chosen lifework. Avonlea opened its heart to them from the start.
6076Old and young liked the frank, cheerful young man with his high ideals,
6077and the bright, gentle little lady who assumed the mistress-ship of the
6078manse. With Mrs. Allan Anne fell promptly and wholeheartedly in love.
6079She had discovered another kindred spirit.
6080
6081“Mrs. Allan is perfectly lovely,” she announced one Sunday afternoon.
6082“She’s taken our class and she’s a splendid teacher. She said right away
6083she didn’t think it was fair for the teacher to ask all the questions,
6084and you know, Marilla, that is exactly what I’ve always thought. She
6085said we could ask her any question we liked and I asked ever so many.
6086I’m good at asking questions, Marilla.”
6087
6088“I believe you” was Marilla’s emphatic comment.
6089
6090“Nobody else asked any except Ruby Gillis, and she asked if there was
6091to be a Sunday-school picnic this summer. I didn’t think that was a
6092very proper question to ask because it hadn’t any connection with the
6093lesson--the lesson was about Daniel in the lions’ den--but Mrs. Allan
6094just smiled and said she thought there would be. Mrs. Allan has a
6095lovely smile; she has such _exquisite_ dimples in her cheeks. I wish I had
6096dimples in my cheeks, Marilla. I’m not half so skinny as I was when I
6097came here, but I have no dimples yet. If I had perhaps I could influence
6098people for good. Mrs. Allan said we ought always to try to influence
6099other people for good. She talked so nice about everything. I never knew
6100before that religion was such a cheerful thing. I always thought it
6101was kind of melancholy, but Mrs. Allan’s isn’t, and I’d like to be a
6102Christian if I could be one like her. I wouldn’t want to be one like Mr.
6103Superintendent Bell.”
6104
6105“It’s very naughty of you to speak so about Mr. Bell,” said Marilla
6106severely. “Mr. Bell is a real good man.”
6107
6108“Oh, of course he’s good,” agreed Anne, “but he doesn’t seem to get any
6109comfort out of it. If I could be good I’d dance and sing all day because
6110I was glad of it. I suppose Mrs. Allan is too old to dance and sing and
6111of course it wouldn’t be dignified in a minister’s wife. But I can just
6112feel she’s glad she’s a Christian and that she’d be one even if she
6113could get to heaven without it.”
6114
6115“I suppose we must have Mr. and Mrs. Allan up to tea someday soon,” said
6116Marilla reflectively. “They’ve been most everywhere but here. Let me
6117see. Next Wednesday would be a good time to have them. But don’t say a
6118word to Matthew about it, for if he knew they were coming he’d find some
6119excuse to be away that day. He’d got so used to Mr. Bentley he didn’t
6120mind him, but he’s going to find it hard to get acquainted with a new
6121minister, and a new minister’s wife will frighten him to death.”
6122
6123“I’ll be as secret as the dead,” assured Anne. “But oh, Marilla, will
6124you let me make a cake for the occasion? I’d love to do something for
6125Mrs. Allan, and you know I can make a pretty good cake by this time.”
6126
6127“You can make a layer cake,” promised Marilla.
6128
6129Monday and Tuesday great preparations went on at Green Gables.
6130Having the minister and his wife to tea was a serious and important
6131undertaking, and Marilla was determined not to be eclipsed by any of
6132the Avonlea housekeepers. Anne was wild with excitement and delight. She
6133talked it all over with Diana Tuesday night in the twilight, as they
6134sat on the big red stones by the Dryad’s Bubble and made rainbows in the
6135water with little twigs dipped in fir balsam.
6136
6137“Everything is ready, Diana, except my cake which I’m to make in the
6138morning, and the baking-powder biscuits which Marilla will make just
6139before teatime. I assure you, Diana, that Marilla and I have had a busy
6140two days of it. It’s such a responsibility having a minister’s family to
6141tea. I never went through such an experience before. You should just see
6142our pantry. It’s a sight to behold. We’re going to have jellied chicken
6143and cold tongue. We’re to have two kinds of jelly, red and yellow, and
6144whipped cream and lemon pie, and cherry pie, and three kinds of cookies,
6145and fruit cake, and Marilla’s famous yellow plum preserves that she
6146keeps especially for ministers, and pound cake and layer cake, and
6147biscuits as aforesaid; and new bread and old both, in case the minister
6148is dyspeptic and can’t eat new. Mrs. Lynde says ministers are dyspeptic,
6149but I don’t think Mr. Allan has been a minister long enough for it to
6150have had a bad effect on him. I just grow cold when I think of my layer
6151cake. Oh, Diana, what if it shouldn’t be good! I dreamed last night that
6152I was chased all around by a fearful goblin with a big layer cake for a
6153head.”
6154
6155“It’ll be good, all right,” assured Diana, who was a very comfortable
6156sort of friend. “I’m sure that piece of the one you made that we had for
6157lunch in Idlewild two weeks ago was perfectly elegant.”
6158
6159“Yes; but cakes have such a terrible habit of turning out bad just
6160when you especially want them to be good,” sighed Anne, setting a
6161particularly well-balsamed twig afloat. “However, I suppose I shall
6162just have to trust to Providence and be careful to put in the flour. Oh,
6163look, Diana, what a lovely rainbow! Do you suppose the dryad will come
6164out after we go away and take it for a scarf?”
6165
6166“You know there is no such thing as a dryad,” said Diana. Diana’s mother
6167had found out about the Haunted Wood and had been decidedly angry over
6168it. As a result Diana had abstained from any further imitative flights
6169of imagination and did not think it prudent to cultivate a spirit of
6170belief even in harmless dryads.
6171
6172“But it’s so easy to imagine there is,” said Anne. “Every night before
6173I go to bed, I look out of my window and wonder if the dryad is really
6174sitting here, combing her locks with the spring for a mirror. Sometimes
6175I look for her footprints in the dew in the morning. Oh, Diana, don’t
6176give up your faith in the dryad!”
6177
6178Wednesday morning came. Anne got up at sunrise because she was too
6179excited to sleep. She had caught a severe cold in the head by reason of
6180her dabbling in the spring on the preceding evening; but nothing short
6181of absolute pneumonia could have quenched her interest in culinary
6182matters that morning. After breakfast she proceeded to make her cake.
6183When she finally shut the oven door upon it she drew a long breath.
6184
6185“I’m sure I haven’t forgotten anything this time, Marilla. But do you
6186think it will rise? Just suppose perhaps the baking powder isn’t good? I
6187used it out of the new can. And Mrs. Lynde says you can never be sure of
6188getting good baking powder nowadays when everything is so adulterated.
6189Mrs. Lynde says the Government ought to take the matter up, but she says
6190we’ll never see the day when a Tory Government will do it. Marilla, what
6191if that cake doesn’t rise?”
6192
6193“We’ll have plenty without it” was Marilla’s unimpassioned way of
6194looking at the subject.
6195
6196The cake did rise, however, and came out of the oven as light and
6197feathery as golden foam. Anne, flushed with delight, clapped it together
6198with layers of ruby jelly and, in imagination, saw Mrs. Allan eating it
6199and possibly asking for another piece!
6200
6201“You’ll be using the best tea set, of course, Marilla,” she said. “Can I
6202fix the table with ferns and wild roses?”
6203
6204“I think that’s all nonsense,” sniffed Marilla. “In my opinion it’s the
6205eatables that matter and not flummery decorations.”
6206
6207“Mrs. Barry had _her_ table decorated,” said Anne, who was not entirely
6208guiltless of the wisdom of the serpent, “and the minister paid her an
6209elegant compliment. He said it was a feast for the eye as well as the
6210palate.”
6211
6212“Well, do as you like,” said Marilla, who was quite determined not to
6213be surpassed by Mrs. Barry or anybody else. “Only mind you leave enough
6214room for the dishes and the food.”
6215
6216Anne laid herself out to decorate in a manner and after a fashion that
6217should leave Mrs. Barry’s nowhere. Having abundance of roses and ferns
6218and a very artistic taste of her own, she made that tea table such a
6219thing of beauty that when the minister and his wife sat down to it they
6220exclaimed in chorus over it loveliness.
6221
6222“It’s Anne’s doings,” said Marilla, grimly just; and Anne felt that Mrs.
6223Allan’s approving smile was almost too much happiness for this world.
6224
6225Matthew was there, having been inveigled into the party only goodness
6226and Anne knew how. He had been in such a state of shyness and
6227nervousness that Marilla had given him up in despair, but Anne took him
6228in hand so successfully that he now sat at the table in his best clothes
6229and white collar and talked to the minister not uninterestingly.
6230He never said a word to Mrs. Allan, but that perhaps was not to be
6231expected.
6232
6233All went merry as a marriage bell until Anne’s layer cake was passed.
6234Mrs. Allan, having already been helped to a bewildering variety,
6235declined it. But Marilla, seeing the disappointment on Anne’s face, said
6236smilingly:
6237
6238“Oh, you must take a piece of this, Mrs. Allan. Anne made it on purpose
6239for you.”
6240
6241“In that case I must sample it,” laughed Mrs. Allan, helping herself to
6242a plump triangle, as did also the minister and Marilla.
6243
6244Mrs. Allan took a mouthful of hers and a most peculiar expression
6245crossed her face; not a word did she say, however, but steadily ate away
6246at it. Marilla saw the expression and hastened to taste the cake.
6247
6248“Anne Shirley!” she exclaimed, “what on earth did you put into that
6249cake?”
6250
6251“Nothing but what the recipe said, Marilla,” cried Anne with a look of
6252anguish. “Oh, isn’t it all right?”
6253
6254“All right! It’s simply horrible. Mr. Allan, don’t try to eat it. Anne,
6255taste it yourself. What flavoring did you use?”
6256
6257“Vanilla,” said Anne, her face scarlet with mortification after tasting
6258the cake. “Only vanilla. Oh, Marilla, it must have been the baking
6259powder. I had my suspicions of that bak--”
6260
6261“Baking powder fiddlesticks! Go and bring me the bottle of vanilla you
6262used.”
6263
6264Anne fled to the pantry and returned with a small bottle partially
6265filled with a brown liquid and labeled yellowly, “Best Vanilla.”
6266
6267Marilla took it, uncorked it, smelled it.
6268
6269“Mercy on us, Anne, you’ve flavored that cake with _Anodyne Liniment_. I
6270broke the liniment bottle last week and poured what was left into an
6271old empty vanilla bottle. I suppose it’s partly my fault--I should have
6272warned you--but for pity’s sake why couldn’t you have smelled it?”
6273
6274Anne dissolved into tears under this double disgrace.
6275
6276“I couldn’t--I had such a cold!” and with this she fairly fled to the
6277gable chamber, where she cast herself on the bed and wept as one who
6278refuses to be comforted.
6279
6280Presently a light step sounded on the stairs and somebody entered the
6281room.
6282
6283“Oh, Marilla,” sobbed Anne, without looking up, “I’m disgraced forever.
6284I shall never be able to live this down. It will get out--things always
6285do get out in Avonlea. Diana will ask me how my cake turned out and I
6286shall have to tell her the truth. I shall always be pointed at as the
6287girl who flavored a cake with anodyne liniment. Gil--the boys in school
6288will never get over laughing at it. Oh, Marilla, if you have a spark
6289of Christian pity don’t tell me that I must go down and wash the dishes
6290after this. I’ll wash them when the minister and his wife are gone, but
6291I cannot ever look Mrs. Allan in the face again. Perhaps she’ll think I
6292tried to poison her. Mrs. Lynde says she knows an orphan girl who tried
6293to poison her benefactor. But the liniment isn’t poisonous. It’s meant
6294to be taken internally--although not in cakes. Won’t you tell Mrs. Allan
6295so, Marilla?”
6296
6297“Suppose you jump up and tell her so yourself,” said a merry voice.
6298
6299Anne flew up, to find Mrs. Allan standing by her bed, surveying her with
6300laughing eyes.
6301
6302“My dear little girl, you mustn’t cry like this,” she said, genuinely
6303disturbed by Anne’s tragic face. “Why, it’s all just a funny mistake
6304that anybody might make.”
6305
6306“Oh, no, it takes me to make such a mistake,” said Anne forlornly. “And
6307I wanted to have that cake so nice for you, Mrs. Allan.”
6308
6309“Yes, I know, dear. And I assure you I appreciate your kindness and
6310thoughtfulness just as much as if it had turned out all right. Now,
6311you mustn’t cry any more, but come down with me and show me your flower
6312garden. Miss Cuthbert tells me you have a little plot all your own. I
6313want to see it, for I’m very much interested in flowers.”
6314
6315Anne permitted herself to be led down and comforted, reflecting that it
6316was really providential that Mrs. Allan was a kindred spirit. Nothing
6317more was said about the liniment cake, and when the guests went away
6318Anne found that she had enjoyed the evening more than could have been
6319expected, considering that terrible incident. Nevertheless, she sighed
6320deeply.
6321
6322“Marilla, isn’t it nice to think that tomorrow is a new day with no
6323mistakes in it yet?”
6324
6325“I’ll warrant you’ll make plenty in it,” said Marilla. “I never saw your
6326beat for making mistakes, Anne.”
6327
6328“Yes, and well I know it,” admitted Anne mournfully. “But have you ever
6329noticed one encouraging thing about me, Marilla? I never make the same
6330mistake twice.”
6331
6332“I don’t know as that’s much benefit when you’re always making new
6333ones.”
6334
6335“Oh, don’t you see, Marilla? There must be a limit to the mistakes one
6336person can make, and when I get to the end of them, then I’ll be through
6337with them. That’s a very comforting thought.”
6338
6339“Well, you’d better go and give that cake to the pigs,” said Marilla.
6340“It isn’t fit for any human to eat, not even Jerry Boute.”
6341
6342
6343
6344
6345CHAPTER XXII. Anne is Invited Out to Tea
6346
6347
6348|AND what are your eyes popping out of your head about. Now?” asked
6349Marilla, when Anne had just come in from a run to the post office. “Have
6350you discovered another kindred spirit?” Excitement hung around Anne like
6351a garment, shone in her eyes, kindled in every feature. She had come
6352dancing up the lane, like a wind-blown sprite, through the mellow
6353sunshine and lazy shadows of the August evening.
6354
6355“No, Marilla, but oh, what do you think? I am invited to tea at the
6356manse tomorrow afternoon! Mrs. Allan left the letter for me at the post
6357office. Just look at it, Marilla. ‘Miss Anne Shirley, Green Gables.’
6358That is the first time I was ever called ‘Miss.’ Such a thrill as it
6359gave me! I shall cherish it forever among my choicest treasures.”
6360
6361“Mrs. Allan told me she meant to have all the members of her
6362Sunday-school class to tea in turn,” said Marilla, regarding the
6363wonderful event very coolly. “You needn’t get in such a fever over it.
6364Do learn to take things calmly, child.”
6365
6366For Anne to take things calmly would have been to change her nature. All
6367“spirit and fire and dew,” as she was, the pleasures and pains of life
6368came to her with trebled intensity. Marilla felt this and was vaguely
6369troubled over it, realizing that the ups and downs of existence would
6370probably bear hardly on this impulsive soul and not sufficiently
6371understanding that the equally great capacity for delight might more
6372than compensate. Therefore Marilla conceived it to be her duty to drill
6373Anne into a tranquil uniformity of disposition as impossible and alien
6374to her as to a dancing sunbeam in one of the brook shallows. She did not
6375make much headway, as she sorrowfully admitted to herself. The downfall
6376of some dear hope or plan plunged Anne into “deeps of affliction.” The
6377fulfillment thereof exalted her to dizzy realms of delight. Marilla had
6378almost begun to despair of ever fashioning this waif of the world into
6379her model little girl of demure manners and prim deportment. Neither
6380would she have believed that she really liked Anne much better as she
6381was.
6382
6383Anne went to bed that night speechless with misery because Matthew had
6384said the wind was round northeast and he feared it would be a rainy day
6385tomorrow. The rustle of the poplar leaves about the house worried her,
6386it sounded so like pattering raindrops, and the full, faraway roar of
6387the gulf, to which she listened delightedly at other times, loving its
6388strange, sonorous, haunting rhythm, now seemed like a prophecy of storm
6389and disaster to a small maiden who particularly wanted a fine day. Anne
6390thought that the morning would never come.
6391
6392But all things have an end, even nights before the day on which you are
6393invited to take tea at the manse. The morning, in spite of Matthew’s
6394predictions, was fine and Anne’s spirits soared to their highest.
6395“Oh, Marilla, there is something in me today that makes me just love
6396everybody I see,” she exclaimed as she washed the breakfast dishes.
6397“You don’t know how good I feel! Wouldn’t it be nice if it could last? I
6398believe I could be a model child if I were just invited out to tea every
6399day. But oh, Marilla, it’s a solemn occasion too. I feel so anxious.
6400What if I shouldn’t behave properly? You know I never had tea at a
6401manse before, and I’m not sure that I know all the rules of etiquette,
6402although I’ve been studying the rules given in the Etiquette Department
6403of the Family Herald ever since I came here. I’m so afraid I’ll do
6404something silly or forget to do something I should do. Would it be
6405good manners to take a second helping of anything if you wanted to _very_
6406much?”
6407
6408“The trouble with you, Anne, is that you’re thinking too much about
6409yourself. You should just think of Mrs. Allan and what would be nicest
6410and most agreeable to her,” said Marilla, hitting for once in her life
6411on a very sound and pithy piece of advice. Anne instantly realized this.
6412
6413“You are right, Marilla. I’ll try not to think about myself at all.”
6414
6415Anne evidently got through her visit without any serious breach of
6416“etiquette,” for she came home through the twilight, under a great,
6417high-sprung sky gloried over with trails of saffron and rosy cloud, in
6418a beatified state of mind and told Marilla all about it happily, sitting
6419on the big red-sandstone slab at the kitchen door with her tired curly
6420head in Marilla’s gingham lap.
6421
6422A cool wind was blowing down over the long harvest fields from the rims
6423of firry western hills and whistling through the poplars. One clear star
6424hung over the orchard and the fireflies were flitting over in Lover’s
6425Lane, in and out among the ferns and rustling boughs. Anne watched them
6426as she talked and somehow felt that wind and stars and fireflies were
6427all tangled up together into something unutterably sweet and enchanting.
6428
6429“Oh, Marilla, I’ve had a most _fascinating_ time. I feel that I have not
6430lived in vain and I shall always feel like that even if I should never
6431be invited to tea at a manse again. When I got there Mrs. Allan met me
6432at the door. She was dressed in the sweetest dress of pale-pink organdy,
6433with dozens of frills and elbow sleeves, and she looked just like a
6434seraph. I really think I’d like to be a minister’s wife when I grow up,
6435Marilla. A minister mightn’t mind my red hair because he wouldn’t be
6436thinking of such worldly things. But then of course one would have to
6437be naturally good and I’ll never be that, so I suppose there’s no use in
6438thinking about it. Some people are naturally good, you know, and others
6439are not. I’m one of the others. Mrs. Lynde says I’m full of original
6440sin. No matter how hard I try to be good I can never make such a success
6441of it as those who are naturally good. It’s a good deal like geometry,
6442I expect. But don’t you think the trying so hard ought to count for
6443something? Mrs. Allan is one of the naturally good people. I love her
6444passionately. You know there are some people, like Matthew and Mrs.
6445Allan that you can love right off without any trouble. And there are
6446others, like Mrs. Lynde, that you have to try very hard to love. You
6447know you _ought_ to love them because they know so much and are such
6448active workers in the church, but you have to keep reminding yourself of
6449it all the time or else you forget. There was another little girl at the
6450manse to tea, from the White Sands Sunday school. Her name was Laurette
6451Bradley, and she was a very nice little girl. Not exactly a kindred
6452spirit, you know, but still very nice. We had an elegant tea, and I
6453think I kept all the rules of etiquette pretty well. After tea Mrs.
6454Allan played and sang and she got Lauretta and me to sing too.
6455Mrs. Allan says I have a good voice and she says I must sing in the
6456Sunday-school choir after this. You can’t think how I was thrilled at
6457the mere thought. I’ve longed so to sing in the Sunday-school choir,
6458as Diana does, but I feared it was an honor I could never aspire to.
6459Lauretta had to go home early because there is a big concert in the
6460White Sands Hotel tonight and her sister is to recite at it. Lauretta
6461says that the Americans at the hotel give a concert every fortnight in
6462aid of the Charlottetown hospital, and they ask lots of the White
6463Sands people to recite. Lauretta said she expected to be asked herself
6464someday. I just gazed at her in awe. After she had gone Mrs. Allan and I
6465had a heart-to-heart talk. I told her everything--about Mrs. Thomas and
6466the twins and Katie Maurice and Violetta and coming to Green Gables and
6467my troubles over geometry. And would you believe it, Marilla? Mrs.
6468Allan told me she was a dunce at geometry too. You don’t know how that
6469encouraged me. Mrs. Lynde came to the manse just before I left, and what
6470do you think, Marilla? The trustees have hired a new teacher and it’s
6471a lady. Her name is Miss Muriel Stacy. Isn’t that a romantic name? Mrs.
6472Lynde says they’ve never had a female teacher in Avonlea before and she
6473thinks it is a dangerous innovation. But I think it will be splendid
6474to have a lady teacher, and I really don’t see how I’m going to live
6475through the two weeks before school begins. I’m so impatient to see
6476her.”
6477
6478
6479
6480
6481CHAPTER XXIII. Anne Comes to Grief in an Affair of Honor
6482
6483
6484|ANNE had to live through more than two weeks, as it happened. Almost a
6485month having elapsed since the liniment cake episode, it was high time
6486for her to get into fresh trouble of some sort, little mistakes, such as
6487absentmindedly emptying a pan of skim milk into a basket of yarn balls
6488in the pantry instead of into the pigs’ bucket, and walking clean over
6489the edge of the log bridge into the brook while wrapped in imaginative
6490reverie, not really being worth counting.
6491
6492A week after the tea at the manse Diana Barry gave a party.
6493
6494“Small and select,” Anne assured Marilla. “Just the girls in our class.”
6495
6496They had a very good time and nothing untoward happened until after tea,
6497when they found themselves in the Barry garden, a little tired of all
6498their games and ripe for any enticing form of mischief which might
6499present itself. This presently took the form of “daring.”
6500
6501Daring was the fashionable amusement among the Avonlea small fry just
6502then. It had begun among the boys, but soon spread to the girls, and all
6503the silly things that were done in Avonlea that summer because the doers
6504thereof were “dared” to do them would fill a book by themselves.
6505
6506First of all Carrie Sloane dared Ruby Gillis to climb to a certain point
6507in the huge old willow tree before the front door; which Ruby Gillis,
6508albeit in mortal dread of the fat green caterpillars with which said
6509tree was infested and with the fear of her mother before her eyes if she
6510should tear her new muslin dress, nimbly did, to the discomfiture of the
6511aforesaid Carrie Sloane. Then Josie Pye dared Jane Andrews to hop on her
6512left leg around the garden without stopping once or putting her right
6513foot to the ground; which Jane Andrews gamely tried to do, but gave out
6514at the third corner and had to confess herself defeated.
6515
6516Josie’s triumph being rather more pronounced than good taste permitted,
6517Anne Shirley dared her to walk along the top of the board fence which
6518bounded the garden to the east. Now, to “walk” board fences requires
6519more skill and steadiness of head and heel than one might suppose who
6520has never tried it. But Josie Pye, if deficient in some qualities
6521that make for popularity, had at least a natural and inborn gift, duly
6522cultivated, for walking board fences. Josie walked the Barry fence with
6523an airy unconcern which seemed to imply that a little thing like that
6524wasn’t worth a “dare.” Reluctant admiration greeted her exploit, for
6525most of the other girls could appreciate it, having suffered many things
6526themselves in their efforts to walk fences. Josie descended from her
6527perch, flushed with victory, and darted a defiant glance at Anne.
6528
6529Anne tossed her red braids.
6530
6531“I don’t think it’s such a very wonderful thing to walk a little, low,
6532board fence,” she said. “I knew a girl in Marysville who could walk the
6533ridgepole of a roof.”
6534
6535“I don’t believe it,” said Josie flatly. “I don’t believe anybody could
6536walk a ridgepole. _You_ couldn’t, anyhow.”
6537
6538“Couldn’t I?” cried Anne rashly.
6539
6540“Then I dare you to do it,” said Josie defiantly. “I dare you to climb
6541up there and walk the ridgepole of Mr. Barry’s kitchen roof.”
6542
6543Anne turned pale, but there was clearly only one thing to be done. She
6544walked toward the house, where a ladder was leaning against the kitchen
6545roof. All the fifth-class girls said, “Oh!” partly in excitement, partly
6546in dismay.
6547
6548“Don’t you do it, Anne,” entreated Diana. “You’ll fall off and be
6549killed. Never mind Josie Pye. It isn’t fair to dare anybody to do
6550anything so dangerous.”
6551
6552“I must do it. My honor is at stake,” said Anne solemnly. “I shall walk
6553that ridgepole, Diana, or perish in the attempt. If I am killed you are
6554to have my pearl bead ring.”
6555
6556Anne climbed the ladder amid breathless silence, gained the ridgepole,
6557balanced herself uprightly on that precarious footing, and started to
6558walk along it, dizzily conscious that she was uncomfortably high up
6559in the world and that walking ridgepoles was not a thing in which your
6560imagination helped you out much. Nevertheless, she managed to take
6561several steps before the catastrophe came. Then she swayed, lost her
6562balance, stumbled, staggered, and fell, sliding down over the sun-baked
6563roof and crashing off it through the tangle of Virginia creeper
6564beneath--all before the dismayed circle below could give a simultaneous,
6565terrified shriek.
6566
6567If Anne had tumbled off the roof on the side up which she had ascended
6568Diana would probably have fallen heir to the pearl bead ring then and
6569there. Fortunately she fell on the other side, where the roof extended
6570down over the porch so nearly to the ground that a fall therefrom was
6571a much less serious thing. Nevertheless, when Diana and the other
6572girls had rushed frantically around the house--except Ruby Gillis, who
6573remained as if rooted to the ground and went into hysterics--they found
6574Anne lying all white and limp among the wreck and ruin of the Virginia
6575creeper.
6576
6577“Anne, are you killed?” shrieked Diana, throwing herself on her knees
6578beside her friend. “Oh, Anne, dear Anne, speak just one word to me and
6579tell me if you’re killed.”
6580
6581To the immense relief of all the girls, and especially of Josie Pye,
6582who, in spite of lack of imagination, had been seized with horrible
6583visions of a future branded as the girl who was the cause of Anne
6584Shirley’s early and tragic death, Anne sat dizzily up and answered
6585uncertainly:
6586
6587“No, Diana, I am not killed, but I think I am rendered unconscious.”
6588
6589“Where?” sobbed Carrie Sloane. “Oh, where, Anne?” Before Anne could
6590answer Mrs. Barry appeared on the scene. At sight of her Anne tried to
6591scramble to her feet, but sank back again with a sharp little cry of
6592pain.
6593
6594“What’s the matter? Where have you hurt yourself?” demanded Mrs. Barry.
6595
6596“My ankle,” gasped Anne. “Oh, Diana, please find your father and ask him
6597to take me home. I know I can never walk there. And I’m sure I couldn’t
6598hop so far on one foot when Jane couldn’t even hop around the garden.”
6599
6600Marilla was out in the orchard picking a panful of summer apples when
6601she saw Mr. Barry coming over the log bridge and up the slope, with Mrs.
6602Barry beside him and a whole procession of little girls trailing after
6603him. In his arms he carried Anne, whose head lay limply against his
6604shoulder.
6605
6606At that moment Marilla had a revelation. In the sudden stab of fear that
6607pierced her very heart she realized what Anne had come to mean to her.
6608She would have admitted that she liked Anne--nay, that she was very fond
6609of Anne. But now she knew as she hurried wildly down the slope that Anne
6610was dearer to her than anything else on earth.
6611
6612“Mr. Barry, what has happened to her?” she gasped, more white and shaken
6613than the self-contained, sensible Marilla had been for many years.
6614
6615Anne herself answered, lifting her head.
6616
6617“Don’t be very frightened, Marilla. I was walking the ridgepole and I
6618fell off. I expect I have sprained my ankle. But, Marilla, I might have
6619broken my neck. Let us look on the bright side of things.”
6620
6621“I might have known you’d go and do something of the sort when I let you
6622go to that party,” said Marilla, sharp and shrewish in her very relief.
6623“Bring her in here, Mr. Barry, and lay her on the sofa. Mercy me, the
6624child has gone and fainted!”
6625
6626It was quite true. Overcome by the pain of her injury, Anne had one more
6627of her wishes granted to her. She had fainted dead away.
6628
6629Matthew, hastily summoned from the harvest field, was straightway
6630dispatched for the doctor, who in due time came, to discover that the
6631injury was more serious than they had supposed. Anne’s ankle was broken.
6632
6633That night, when Marilla went up to the east gable, where a white-faced
6634girl was lying, a plaintive voice greeted her from the bed.
6635
6636“Aren’t you very sorry for me, Marilla?”
6637
6638“It was your own fault,” said Marilla, twitching down the blind and
6639lighting a lamp.
6640
6641“And that is just why you should be sorry for me,” said Anne, “because
6642the thought that it is all my own fault is what makes it so hard. If I
6643could blame it on anybody I would feel so much better. But what would
6644you have done, Marilla, if you had been dared to walk a ridgepole?”
6645
6646“I’d have stayed on good firm ground and let them dare away. Such
6647absurdity!” said Marilla.
6648
6649Anne sighed.
6650
6651“But you have such strength of mind, Marilla. I haven’t. I just felt
6652that I couldn’t bear Josie Pye’s scorn. She would have crowed over me
6653all my life. And I think I have been punished so much that you needn’t
6654be very cross with me, Marilla. It’s not a bit nice to faint, after all.
6655And the doctor hurt me dreadfully when he was setting my ankle. I won’t
6656be able to go around for six or seven weeks and I’ll miss the new lady
6657teacher. She won’t be new any more by the time I’m able to go to school.
6658And Gil--everybody will get ahead of me in class. Oh, I am an afflicted
6659mortal. But I’ll try to bear it all bravely if only you won’t be cross
6660with me, Marilla.”
6661
6662“There, there, I’m not cross,” said Marilla. “You’re an unlucky child,
6663there’s no doubt about that; but as you say, you’ll have the suffering
6664of it. Here now, try and eat some supper.”
6665
6666“Isn’t it fortunate I’ve got such an imagination?” said Anne. “It will
6667help me through splendidly, I expect. What do people who haven’t any
6668imagination do when they break their bones, do you suppose, Marilla?”
6669
6670Anne had good reason to bless her imagination many a time and oft during
6671the tedious seven weeks that followed. But she was not solely dependent
6672on it. She had many visitors and not a day passed without one or more of
6673the schoolgirls dropping in to bring her flowers and books and tell her
6674all the happenings in the juvenile world of Avonlea.
6675
6676“Everybody has been so good and kind, Marilla,” sighed Anne happily,
6677on the day when she could first limp across the floor. “It isn’t very
6678pleasant to be laid up; but there is a bright side to it, Marilla. You
6679find out how many friends you have. Why, even Superintendent Bell came
6680to see me, and he’s really a very fine man. Not a kindred spirit, of
6681course; but still I like him and I’m awfully sorry I ever criticized his
6682prayers. I believe now he really does mean them, only he has got into
6683the habit of saying them as if he didn’t. He could get over that if he’d
6684take a little trouble. I gave him a good broad hint. I told him how hard
6685I tried to make my own little private prayers interesting. He told me
6686all about the time he broke his ankle when he was a boy. It does seem
6687so strange to think of Superintendent Bell ever being a boy. Even my
6688imagination has its limits, for I can’t imagine _that_. When I try to
6689imagine him as a boy I see him with gray whiskers and spectacles, just
6690as he looks in Sunday school, only small. Now, it’s so easy to imagine
6691Mrs. Allan as a little girl. Mrs. Allan has been to see me fourteen
6692times. Isn’t that something to be proud of, Marilla? When a minister’s
6693wife has so many claims on her time! She is such a cheerful person to
6694have visit you, too. She never tells you it’s your own fault and she
6695hopes you’ll be a better girl on account of it. Mrs. Lynde always told
6696me that when she came to see me; and she said it in a kind of way that
6697made me feel she might hope I’d be a better girl but didn’t really
6698believe I would. Even Josie Pye came to see me. I received her as
6699politely as I could, because I think she was sorry she dared me to walk
6700a ridgepole. If I had been killed she would had to carry a dark burden
6701of remorse all her life. Diana has been a faithful friend. She’s been
6702over every day to cheer my lonely pillow. But oh, I shall be so glad
6703when I can go to school for I’ve heard such exciting things about the
6704new teacher. The girls all think she is perfectly sweet. Diana says she
6705has the loveliest fair curly hair and such fascinating eyes. She dresses
6706beautifully, and her sleeve puffs are bigger than anybody else’s in
6707Avonlea. Every other Friday afternoon she has recitations and everybody
6708has to say a piece or take part in a dialogue. Oh, it’s just glorious to
6709think of it. Josie Pye says she hates it but that is just because Josie
6710has so little imagination. Diana and Ruby Gillis and Jane Andrews are
6711preparing a dialogue, called ‘A Morning Visit,’ for next Friday. And the
6712Friday afternoons they don’t have recitations Miss Stacy takes them
6713all to the woods for a ‘field’ day and they study ferns and flowers
6714and birds. And they have physical culture exercises every morning and
6715evening. Mrs. Lynde says she never heard of such goings on and it all
6716comes of having a lady teacher. But I think it must be splendid and I
6717believe I shall find that Miss Stacy is a kindred spirit.”
6718
6719“There’s one thing plain to be seen, Anne,” said Marilla, “and that is
6720that your fall off the Barry roof hasn’t injured your tongue at all.”
6721
6722
6723
6724
6725CHAPTER XXIV. Miss Stacy and Her Pupils Get Up a Concert
6726
6727
6728|IT was October again when Anne was ready to go back to school--a
6729glorious October, all red and gold, with mellow mornings when the
6730valleys were filled with delicate mists as if the spirit of autumn had
6731poured them in for the sun to drain--amethyst, pearl, silver, rose, and
6732smoke-blue. The dews were so heavy that the fields glistened like cloth
6733of silver and there were such heaps of rustling leaves in the hollows of
6734many-stemmed woods to run crisply through. The Birch Path was a canopy
6735of yellow and the ferns were sear and brown all along it. There was a
6736tang in the very air that inspired the hearts of small maidens tripping,
6737unlike snails, swiftly and willingly to school; and it _was_ jolly to
6738be back again at the little brown desk beside Diana, with Ruby Gillis
6739nodding across the aisle and Carrie Sloane sending up notes and Julia
6740Bell passing a “chew” of gum down from the back seat. Anne drew a long
6741breath of happiness as she sharpened her pencil and arranged her picture
6742cards in her desk. Life was certainly very interesting.
6743
6744In the new teacher she found another true and helpful friend. Miss Stacy
6745was a bright, sympathetic young woman with the happy gift of winning and
6746holding the affections of her pupils and bringing out the best that was
6747in them mentally and morally. Anne expanded like a flower under this
6748wholesome influence and carried home to the admiring Matthew and the
6749critical Marilla glowing accounts of schoolwork and aims.
6750
6751“I love Miss Stacy with my whole heart, Marilla. She is so ladylike
6752and she has such a sweet voice. When she pronounces my name I feel
6753_instinctively_ that she’s spelling it with an E. We had recitations
6754this afternoon. I just wish you could have been there to hear me recite
6755‘Mary, Queen of Scots.’ I just put my whole soul into it. Ruby Gillis
6756told me coming home that the way I said the line, ‘Now for my father’s
6757arm,’ she said, ‘my woman’s heart farewell,’ just made her blood run
6758cold.”
6759
6760“Well now, you might recite it for me some of these days, out in the
6761barn,” suggested Matthew.
6762
6763“Of course I will,” said Anne meditatively, “but I won’t be able to do
6764it so well, I know. It won’t be so exciting as it is when you have a
6765whole schoolful before you hanging breathlessly on your words. I know I
6766won’t be able to make your blood run cold.”
6767
6768“Mrs. Lynde says it made _her_ blood run cold to see the boys climbing to
6769the very tops of those big trees on Bell’s hill after crows’ nests last
6770Friday,” said Marilla. “I wonder at Miss Stacy for encouraging it.”
6771
6772“But we wanted a crow’s nest for nature study,” explained Anne. “That
6773was on our field afternoon. Field afternoons are splendid, Marilla.
6774And Miss Stacy explains everything so beautifully. We have to write
6775compositions on our field afternoons and I write the best ones.”
6776
6777“It’s very vain of you to say so then. You’d better let your teacher say
6778it.”
6779
6780“But she _did_ say it, Marilla. And indeed I’m not vain about it. How can
6781I be, when I’m such a dunce at geometry? Although I’m really beginning
6782to see through it a little, too. Miss Stacy makes it so clear. Still,
6783I’ll never be good at it and I assure you it is a humbling reflection.
6784But I love writing compositions. Mostly Miss Stacy lets us choose
6785our own subjects; but next week we are to write a composition on some
6786remarkable person. It’s hard to choose among so many remarkable people
6787who have lived. Mustn’t it be splendid to be remarkable and have
6788compositions written about you after you’re dead? Oh, I would dearly
6789love to be remarkable. I think when I grow up I’ll be a trained nurse
6790and go with the Red Crosses to the field of battle as a messenger of
6791mercy. That is, if I don’t go out as a foreign missionary. That would
6792be very romantic, but one would have to be very good to be a missionary,
6793and that would be a stumbling block. We have physical culture exercises
6794every day, too. They make you graceful and promote digestion.”
6795
6796“Promote fiddlesticks!” said Marilla, who honestly thought it was all
6797nonsense.
6798
6799But all the field afternoons and recitation Fridays and physical culture
6800contortions paled before a project which Miss Stacy brought forward in
6801November. This was that the scholars of Avonlea school should get up
6802a concert and hold it in the hall on Christmas Night, for the laudable
6803purpose of helping to pay for a schoolhouse flag. The pupils one and
6804all taking graciously to this plan, the preparations for a program
6805were begun at once. And of all the excited performers-elect none was so
6806excited as Anne Shirley, who threw herself into the undertaking heart
6807and soul, hampered as she was by Marilla’s disapproval. Marilla thought
6808it all rank foolishness.
6809
6810“It’s just filling your heads up with nonsense and taking time that
6811ought to be put on your lessons,” she grumbled. “I don’t approve of
6812children’s getting up concerts and racing about to practices. It makes
6813them vain and forward and fond of gadding.”
6814
6815“But think of the worthy object,” pleaded Anne. “A flag will cultivate a
6816spirit of patriotism, Marilla.”
6817
6818“Fudge! There’s precious little patriotism in the thoughts of any of
6819you. All you want is a good time.”
6820
6821“Well, when you can combine patriotism and fun, isn’t it all right? Of
6822course it’s real nice to be getting up a concert. We’re going to have
6823six choruses and Diana is to sing a solo. I’m in two dialogues--‘The
6824Society for the Suppression of Gossip’ and ‘The Fairy Queen.’ The boys
6825are going to have a dialogue too. And I’m to have two recitations,
6826Marilla. I just tremble when I think of it, but it’s a nice thrilly kind
6827of tremble. And we’re to have a tableau at the last--‘Faith, Hope and
6828Charity.’ Diana and Ruby and I are to be in it, all draped in white with
6829flowing hair. I’m to be Hope, with my hands clasped--so--and my eyes
6830uplifted. I’m going to practice my recitations in the garret. Don’t be
6831alarmed if you hear me groaning. I have to groan heartrendingly in one
6832of them, and it’s really hard to get up a good artistic groan, Marilla.
6833Josie Pye is sulky because she didn’t get the part she wanted in
6834the dialogue. She wanted to be the fairy queen. That would have been
6835ridiculous, for who ever heard of a fairy queen as fat as Josie? Fairy
6836queens must be slender. Jane Andrews is to be the queen and I am to be
6837one of her maids of honor. Josie says she thinks a red-haired fairy is
6838just as ridiculous as a fat one, but I do not let myself mind what Josie
6839says. I’m to have a wreath of white roses on my hair and Ruby Gillis
6840is going to lend me her slippers because I haven’t any of my own. It’s
6841necessary for fairies to have slippers, you know. You couldn’t imagine
6842a fairy wearing boots, could you? Especially with copper toes? We are
6843going to decorate the hall with creeping spruce and fir mottoes with
6844pink tissue-paper roses in them. And we are all to march in two by two
6845after the audience is seated, while Emma White plays a march on the
6846organ. Oh, Marilla, I know you are not so enthusiastic about it as I am,
6847but don’t you hope your little Anne will distinguish herself?”
6848
6849“All I hope is that you’ll behave yourself. I’ll be heartily glad when
6850all this fuss is over and you’ll be able to settle down. You are simply
6851good for nothing just now with your head stuffed full of dialogues and
6852groans and tableaus. As for your tongue, it’s a marvel it’s not clean
6853worn out.”
6854
6855Anne sighed and betook herself to the back yard, over which a young new
6856moon was shining through the leafless poplar boughs from an apple-green
6857western sky, and where Matthew was splitting wood. Anne perched herself
6858on a block and talked the concert over with him, sure of an appreciative
6859and sympathetic listener in this instance at least.
6860
6861“Well now, I reckon it’s going to be a pretty good concert. And I
6862expect you’ll do your part fine,” he said, smiling down into her eager,
6863vivacious little face. Anne smiled back at him. Those two were the best
6864of friends and Matthew thanked his stars many a time and oft that he had
6865nothing to do with bringing her up. That was Marilla’s exclusive duty;
6866if it had been his he would have been worried over frequent conflicts
6867between inclination and said duty. As it was, he was free to, “spoil
6868Anne”--Marilla’s phrasing--as much as he liked. But it was not such a
6869bad arrangement after all; a little “appreciation” sometimes does quite
6870as much good as all the conscientious “bringing up” in the world.
6871
6872
6873
6874
6875CHAPTER XXV. Matthew Insists on Puffed Sleeves
6876
6877
6878|MATTHEW was having a bad ten minutes of it. He had come into the
6879kitchen, in the twilight of a cold, gray December evening, and had sat
6880down in the woodbox corner to take off his heavy boots, unconscious of
6881the fact that Anne and a bevy of her schoolmates were having a practice
6882of “The Fairy Queen” in the sitting room. Presently they came trooping
6883through the hall and out into the kitchen, laughing and chattering
6884gaily. They did not see Matthew, who shrank bashfully back into the
6885shadows beyond the woodbox with a boot in one hand and a bootjack in the
6886other, and he watched them shyly for the aforesaid ten minutes as they
6887put on caps and jackets and talked about the dialogue and the concert.
6888Anne stood among them, bright eyed and animated as they; but Matthew
6889suddenly became conscious that there was something about her different
6890from her mates. And what worried Matthew was that the difference
6891impressed him as being something that should not exist. Anne had a
6892brighter face, and bigger, starrier eyes, and more delicate features
6893than the other; even shy, unobservant Matthew had learned to take note
6894of these things; but the difference that disturbed him did not consist
6895in any of these respects. Then in what did it consist?
6896
6897Matthew was haunted by this question long after the girls had gone, arm
6898in arm, down the long, hard-frozen lane and Anne had betaken herself
6899to her books. He could not refer it to Marilla, who, he felt, would be
6900quite sure to sniff scornfully and remark that the only difference she
6901saw between Anne and the other girls was that they sometimes kept their
6902tongues quiet while Anne never did. This, Matthew felt, would be no
6903great help.
6904
6905He had recourse to his pipe that evening to help him study it out, much
6906to Marilla’s disgust. After two hours of smoking and hard reflection
6907Matthew arrived at a solution of his problem. Anne was not dressed like
6908the other girls!
6909
6910The more Matthew thought about the matter the more he was convinced that
6911Anne never had been dressed like the other girls--never since she had
6912come to Green Gables. Marilla kept her clothed in plain, dark dresses,
6913all made after the same unvarying pattern. If Matthew knew there was
6914such a thing as fashion in dress it was as much as he did; but he was
6915quite sure that Anne’s sleeves did not look at all like the sleeves the
6916other girls wore. He recalled the cluster of little girls he had seen
6917around her that evening--all gay in waists of red and blue and pink
6918and white--and he wondered why Marilla always kept her so plainly and
6919soberly gowned.
6920
6921Of course, it must be all right. Marilla knew best and Marilla was
6922bringing her up. Probably some wise, inscrutable motive was to be served
6923thereby. But surely it would do no harm to let the child have one pretty
6924dress--something like Diana Barry always wore. Matthew decided that
6925he would give her one; that surely could not be objected to as an
6926unwarranted putting in of his oar. Christmas was only a fortnight off.
6927A nice new dress would be the very thing for a present. Matthew, with a
6928sigh of satisfaction, put away his pipe and went to bed, while Marilla
6929opened all the doors and aired the house.
6930
6931The very next evening Matthew betook himself to Carmody to buy the
6932dress, determined to get the worst over and have done with it. It would
6933be, he felt assured, no trifling ordeal. There were some things Matthew
6934could buy and prove himself no mean bargainer; but he knew he would be
6935at the mercy of shopkeepers when it came to buying a girl’s dress.
6936
6937After much cogitation Matthew resolved to go to Samuel Lawson’s store
6938instead of William Blair’s. To be sure, the Cuthberts always had gone to
6939William Blair’s; it was almost as much a matter of conscience with them
6940as to attend the Presbyterian church and vote Conservative. But William
6941Blair’s two daughters frequently waited on customers there and Matthew
6942held them in absolute dread. He could contrive to deal with them when he
6943knew exactly what he wanted and could point it out; but in such a matter
6944as this, requiring explanation and consultation, Matthew felt that he
6945must be sure of a man behind the counter. So he would go to Lawson’s,
6946where Samuel or his son would wait on him.
6947
6948Alas! Matthew did not know that Samuel, in the recent expansion of his
6949business, had set up a lady clerk also; she was a niece of his wife’s
6950and a very dashing young person indeed, with a huge, drooping pompadour,
6951big, rolling brown eyes, and a most extensive and bewildering smile. She
6952was dressed with exceeding smartness and wore several bangle bracelets
6953that glittered and rattled and tinkled with every movement of her hands.
6954Matthew was covered with confusion at finding her there at all; and
6955those bangles completely wrecked his wits at one fell swoop.
6956
6957“What can I do for you this evening, Mr. Cuthbert?” Miss Lucilla Harris
6958inquired, briskly and ingratiatingly, tapping the counter with both
6959hands.
6960
6961“Have you any--any--any--well now, say any garden rakes?” stammered
6962Matthew.
6963
6964Miss Harris looked somewhat surprised, as well she might, to hear a man
6965inquiring for garden rakes in the middle of December.
6966
6967“I believe we have one or two left over,” she said, “but they’re
6968upstairs in the lumber room. I’ll go and see.” During her absence
6969Matthew collected his scattered senses for another effort.
6970
6971When Miss Harris returned with the rake and cheerfully inquired:
6972“Anything else tonight, Mr. Cuthbert?” Matthew took his courage in
6973both hands and replied: “Well now, since you suggest it, I might as
6974well--take--that is--look at--buy some--some hayseed.”
6975
6976Miss Harris had heard Matthew Cuthbert called odd. She now concluded
6977that he was entirely crazy.
6978
6979“We only keep hayseed in the spring,” she explained loftily. “We’ve none
6980on hand just now.”
6981
6982“Oh, certainly--certainly--just as you say,” stammered unhappy
6983Matthew, seizing the rake and making for the door. At the threshold he
6984recollected that he had not paid for it and he turned miserably back.
6985While Miss Harris was counting out his change he rallied his powers for
6986a final desperate attempt.
6987
6988“Well now--if it isn’t too much trouble--I might as well--that is--I’d
6989like to look at--at--some sugar.”
6990
6991“White or brown?” queried Miss Harris patiently.
6992
6993“Oh--well now--brown,” said Matthew feebly.
6994
6995“There’s a barrel of it over there,” said Miss Harris, shaking her
6996bangles at it. “It’s the only kind we have.”
6997
6998“I’ll--I’ll take twenty pounds of it,” said Matthew, with beads of
6999perspiration standing on his forehead.
7000
7001Matthew had driven halfway home before he was his own man again. It had
7002been a gruesome experience, but it served him right, he thought, for
7003committing the heresy of going to a strange store. When he reached
7004home he hid the rake in the tool house, but the sugar he carried in to
7005Marilla.
7006
7007“Brown sugar!” exclaimed Marilla. “Whatever possessed you to get so
7008much? You know I never use it except for the hired man’s porridge or
7009black fruit cake. Jerry’s gone and I’ve made my cake long ago. It’s not
7010good sugar, either--it’s coarse and dark--William Blair doesn’t usually
7011keep sugar like that.”
7012
7013“I--I thought it might come in handy sometime,” said Matthew, making
7014good his escape.
7015
7016When Matthew came to think the matter over he decided that a woman was
7017required to cope with the situation. Marilla was out of the question.
7018Matthew felt sure she would throw cold water on his project at once.
7019Remained only Mrs. Lynde; for of no other woman in Avonlea would Matthew
7020have dared to ask advice. To Mrs. Lynde he went accordingly, and that
7021good lady promptly took the matter out of the harassed man’s hands.
7022
7023“Pick out a dress for you to give Anne? To be sure I will. I’m going to
7024Carmody tomorrow and I’ll attend to it. Have you something particular in
7025mind? No? Well, I’ll just go by my own judgment then. I believe a nice
7026rich brown would just suit Anne, and William Blair has some new gloria
7027in that’s real pretty. Perhaps you’d like me to make it up for her, too,
7028seeing that if Marilla was to make it Anne would probably get wind of it
7029before the time and spoil the surprise? Well, I’ll do it. No, it isn’t
7030a mite of trouble. I like sewing. I’ll make it to fit my niece, Jenny
7031Gillis, for she and Anne are as like as two peas as far as figure goes.”
7032
7033“Well now, I’m much obliged,” said Matthew, “and--and--I dunno--but I’d
7034like--I think they make the sleeves different nowadays to what they used
7035to be. If it wouldn’t be asking too much I--I’d like them made in the
7036new way.”
7037
7038“Puffs? Of course. You needn’t worry a speck more about it, Matthew.
7039I’ll make it up in the very latest fashion,” said Mrs. Lynde. To herself
7040she added when Matthew had gone:
7041
7042“It’ll be a real satisfaction to see that poor child wearing something
7043decent for once. The way Marilla dresses her is positively ridiculous,
7044that’s what, and I’ve ached to tell her so plainly a dozen times. I’ve
7045held my tongue though, for I can see Marilla doesn’t want advice and she
7046thinks she knows more about bringing children up than I do for all
7047she’s an old maid. But that’s always the way. Folks that has brought up
7048children know that there’s no hard and fast method in the world that’ll
7049suit every child. But them as never have think it’s all as plain and
7050easy as Rule of Three--just set your three terms down so fashion, and
7051the sum ‘ll work out correct. But flesh and blood don’t come under the
7052head of arithmetic and that’s where Marilla Cuthbert makes her mistake.
7053I suppose she’s trying to cultivate a spirit of humility in Anne by
7054dressing her as she does; but it’s more likely to cultivate envy and
7055discontent. I’m sure the child must feel the difference between her
7056clothes and the other girls’. But to think of Matthew taking notice of
7057it! That man is waking up after being asleep for over sixty years.”
7058
7059Marilla knew all the following fortnight that Matthew had something on
7060his mind, but what it was she could not guess, until Christmas Eve, when
7061Mrs. Lynde brought up the new dress. Marilla behaved pretty well on the
7062whole, although it is very likely she distrusted Mrs. Lynde’s diplomatic
7063explanation that she had made the dress because Matthew was afraid Anne
7064would find out about it too soon if Marilla made it.
7065
7066“So this is what Matthew has been looking so mysterious over and
7067grinning about to himself for two weeks, is it?” she said a little
7068stiffly but tolerantly. “I knew he was up to some foolishness. Well, I
7069must say I don’t think Anne needed any more dresses. I made her three
7070good, warm, serviceable ones this fall, and anything more is sheer
7071extravagance. There’s enough material in those sleeves alone to make a
7072waist, I declare there is. You’ll just pamper Anne’s vanity, Matthew,
7073and she’s as vain as a peacock now. Well, I hope she’ll be satisfied
7074at last, for I know she’s been hankering after those silly sleeves ever
7075since they came in, although she never said a word after the first. The
7076puffs have been getting bigger and more ridiculous right along; they’re
7077as big as balloons now. Next year anybody who wears them will have to go
7078through a door sideways.”
7079
7080Christmas morning broke on a beautiful white world. It had been a very
7081mild December and people had looked forward to a green Christmas; but
7082just enough snow fell softly in the night to transfigure Avonlea. Anne
7083peeped out from her frosted gable window with delighted eyes. The firs
7084in the Haunted Wood were all feathery and wonderful; the birches
7085and wild cherry trees were outlined in pearl; the plowed fields were
7086stretches of snowy dimples; and there was a crisp tang in the air that
7087was glorious. Anne ran downstairs singing until her voice reechoed
7088through Green Gables.
7089
7090“Merry Christmas, Marilla! Merry Christmas, Matthew! Isn’t it a lovely
7091Christmas? I’m so glad it’s white. Any other kind of Christmas doesn’t
7092seem real, does it? I don’t like green Christmases. They’re not
7093green--they’re just nasty faded browns and grays. What makes people call
7094them green? Why--why--Matthew, is that for me? Oh, Matthew!”
7095
7096Matthew had sheepishly unfolded the dress from its paper swathings and
7097held it out with a deprecatory glance at Marilla, who feigned to be
7098contemptuously filling the teapot, but nevertheless watched the scene
7099out of the corner of her eye with a rather interested air.
7100
7101Anne took the dress and looked at it in reverent silence. Oh, how pretty
7102it was--a lovely soft brown gloria with all the gloss of silk; a skirt
7103with dainty frills and shirrings; a waist elaborately pintucked in the
7104most fashionable way, with a little ruffle of filmy lace at the neck.
7105But the sleeves--they were the crowning glory! Long elbow cuffs, and
7106above them two beautiful puffs divided by rows of shirring and bows of
7107brown-silk ribbon.
7108
7109“That’s a Christmas present for you, Anne,” said Matthew shyly.
7110“Why--why--Anne, don’t you like it? Well now--well now.”
7111
7112For Anne’s eyes had suddenly filled with tears.
7113
7114“Like it! Oh, Matthew!” Anne laid the dress over a chair and clasped
7115her hands. “Matthew, it’s perfectly exquisite. Oh, I can never thank you
7116enough. Look at those sleeves! Oh, it seems to me this must be a happy
7117dream.”
7118
7119“Well, well, let us have breakfast,” interrupted Marilla. “I must say,
7120Anne, I don’t think you needed the dress; but since Matthew has got it
7121for you, see that you take good care of it. There’s a hair ribbon Mrs.
7122Lynde left for you. It’s brown, to match the dress. Come now, sit in.”
7123
7124“I don’t see how I’m going to eat breakfast,” said Anne rapturously.
7125“Breakfast seems so commonplace at such an exciting moment. I’d rather
7126feast my eyes on that dress. I’m so glad that puffed sleeves are still
7127fashionable. It did seem to me that I’d never get over it if they went
7128out before I had a dress with them. I’d never have felt quite satisfied,
7129you see. It was lovely of Mrs. Lynde to give me the ribbon too. I feel
7130that I ought to be a very good girl indeed. It’s at times like this I’m
7131sorry I’m not a model little girl; and I always resolve that I will
7132be in future. But somehow it’s hard to carry out your resolutions when
7133irresistible temptations come. Still, I really will make an extra effort
7134after this.”
7135
7136When the commonplace breakfast was over Diana appeared, crossing the
7137white log bridge in the hollow, a gay little figure in her crimson
7138ulster. Anne flew down the slope to meet her.
7139
7140“Merry Christmas, Diana! And oh, it’s a wonderful Christmas. I’ve
7141something splendid to show you. Matthew has given me the loveliest
7142dress, with _such_ sleeves. I couldn’t even imagine any nicer.”
7143
7144“I’ve got something more for you,” said Diana breathlessly. “Here--this
7145box. Aunt Josephine sent us out a big box with ever so many things in
7146it--and this is for you. I’d have brought it over last night, but it
7147didn’t come until after dark, and I never feel very comfortable coming
7148through the Haunted Wood in the dark now.”
7149
7150Anne opened the box and peeped in. First a card with “For the Anne-girl
7151and Merry Christmas,” written on it; and then, a pair of the daintiest
7152little kid slippers, with beaded toes and satin bows and glistening
7153buckles.
7154
7155“Oh,” said Anne, “Diana, this is too much. I must be dreaming.”
7156
7157“I call it providential,” said Diana. “You won’t have to borrow Ruby’s
7158slippers now, and that’s a blessing, for they’re two sizes too big for
7159you, and it would be awful to hear a fairy shuffling. Josie Pye would
7160be delighted. Mind you, Rob Wright went home with Gertie Pye from the
7161practice night before last. Did you ever hear anything equal to that?”
7162
7163All the Avonlea scholars were in a fever of excitement that day, for the
7164hall had to be decorated and a last grand rehearsal held.
7165
7166The concert came off in the evening and was a pronounced success. The
7167little hall was crowded; all the performers did excellently well, but
7168Anne was the bright particular star of the occasion, as even envy, in
7169the shape of Josie Pye, dared not deny.
7170
7171“Oh, hasn’t it been a brilliant evening?” sighed Anne, when it was all
7172over and she and Diana were walking home together under a dark, starry
7173sky.
7174
7175“Everything went off very well,” said Diana practically. “I guess we
7176must have made as much as ten dollars. Mind you, Mr. Allan is going to
7177send an account of it to the Charlottetown papers.”
7178
7179“Oh, Diana, will we really see our names in print? It makes me thrill to
7180think of it. Your solo was perfectly elegant, Diana. I felt prouder than
7181you did when it was encored. I just said to myself, ‘It is my dear bosom
7182friend who is so honored.’”
7183
7184“Well, your recitations just brought down the house, Anne. That sad one
7185was simply splendid.”
7186
7187“Oh, I was so nervous, Diana. When Mr. Allan called out my name I really
7188cannot tell how I ever got up on that platform. I felt as if a million
7189eyes were looking at me and through me, and for one dreadful moment I
7190was sure I couldn’t begin at all. Then I thought of my lovely puffed
7191sleeves and took courage. I knew that I must live up to those sleeves,
7192Diana. So I started in, and my voice seemed to be coming from ever so
7193far away. I just felt like a parrot. It’s providential that I practiced
7194those recitations so often up in the garret, or I’d never have been able
7195to get through. Did I groan all right?”
7196
7197“Yes, indeed, you groaned lovely,” assured Diana.
7198
7199“I saw old Mrs. Sloane wiping away tears when I sat down. It was
7200splendid to think I had touched somebody’s heart. It’s so romantic
7201to take part in a concert, isn’t it? Oh, it’s been a very memorable
7202occasion indeed.”
7203
7204“Wasn’t the boys’ dialogue fine?” said Diana. “Gilbert Blythe was just
7205splendid. Anne, I do think it’s awful mean the way you treat Gil. Wait
7206till I tell you. When you ran off the platform after the fairy dialogue
7207one of your roses fell out of your hair. I saw Gil pick it up and put
7208it in his breast pocket. There now. You’re so romantic that I’m sure you
7209ought to be pleased at that.”
7210
7211“It’s nothing to me what that person does,” said Anne loftily. “I simply
7212never waste a thought on him, Diana.”
7213
7214That night Marilla and Matthew, who had been out to a concert for the
7215first time in twenty years, sat for a while by the kitchen fire after
7216Anne had gone to bed.
7217
7218“Well now, I guess our Anne did as well as any of them,” said Matthew
7219proudly.
7220
7221“Yes, she did,” admitted Marilla. “She’s a bright child, Matthew. And
7222she looked real nice too. I’ve been kind of opposed to this concert
7223scheme, but I suppose there’s no real harm in it after all. Anyhow, I
7224was proud of Anne tonight, although I’m not going to tell her so.”
7225
7226“Well now, I was proud of her and I did tell her so ‘fore she went
7227upstairs,” said Matthew. “We must see what we can do for her some of
7228these days, Marilla. I guess she’ll need something more than Avonlea
7229school by and by.”
7230
7231“There’s time enough to think of that,” said Marilla. “She’s only
7232thirteen in March. Though tonight it struck me she was growing quite a
7233big girl. Mrs. Lynde made that dress a mite too long, and it makes Anne
7234look so tall. She’s quick to learn and I guess the best thing we can do
7235for her will be to send her to Queen’s after a spell. But nothing need
7236be said about that for a year or two yet.”
7237
7238“Well now, it’ll do no harm to be thinking it over off and on,” said
7239Matthew. “Things like that are all the better for lots of thinking
7240over.”
7241
7242
7243
7244
7245CHAPTER XXVI. The Story Club Is Formed
7246
7247
7248|JUNIOR Avonlea found it hard to settle down to humdrum existence
7249again. To Anne in particular things seemed fearfully flat, stale, and
7250unprofitable after the goblet of excitement she had been sipping for
7251weeks. Could she go back to the former quiet pleasures of those faraway
7252days before the concert? At first, as she told Diana, she did not really
7253think she could.
7254
7255“I’m positively certain, Diana, that life can never be quite the
7256same again as it was in those olden days,” she said mournfully, as if
7257referring to a period of at least fifty years back. “Perhaps after a
7258while I’ll get used to it, but I’m afraid concerts spoil people for
7259everyday life. I suppose that is why Marilla disapproves of them.
7260Marilla is such a sensible woman. It must be a great deal better to be
7261sensible; but still, I don’t believe I’d really want to be a sensible
7262person, because they are so unromantic. Mrs. Lynde says there is no
7263danger of my ever being one, but you can never tell. I feel just now
7264that I may grow up to be sensible yet. But perhaps that is only because
7265I’m tired. I simply couldn’t sleep last night for ever so long. I just
7266lay awake and imagined the concert over and over again. That’s one
7267splendid thing about such affairs--it’s so lovely to look back to them.”
7268
7269Eventually, however, Avonlea school slipped back into its old groove
7270and took up its old interests. To be sure, the concert left traces. Ruby
7271Gillis and Emma White, who had quarreled over a point of precedence in
7272their platform seats, no longer sat at the same desk, and a promising
7273friendship of three years was broken up. Josie Pye and Julia Bell did
7274not “speak” for three months, because Josie Pye had told Bessie Wright
7275that Julia Bell’s bow when she got up to recite made her think of a
7276chicken jerking its head, and Bessie told Julia. None of the Sloanes
7277would have any dealings with the Bells, because the Bells had declared
7278that the Sloanes had too much to do in the program, and the Sloanes had
7279retorted that the Bells were not capable of doing the little they had to
7280do properly. Finally, Charlie Sloane fought Moody Spurgeon MacPherson,
7281because Moody Spurgeon had said that Anne Shirley put on airs about
7282her recitations, and Moody Spurgeon was “licked”; consequently Moody
7283Spurgeon’s sister, Ella May, would not “speak” to Anne Shirley all the
7284rest of the winter. With the exception of these trifling frictions, work
7285in Miss Stacy’s little kingdom went on with regularity and smoothness.
7286
7287The winter weeks slipped by. It was an unusually mild winter, with so
7288little snow that Anne and Diana could go to school nearly every day by
7289way of the Birch Path. On Anne’s birthday they were tripping lightly
7290down it, keeping eyes and ears alert amid all their chatter, for Miss
7291Stacy had told them that they must soon write a composition on “A
7292Winter’s Walk in the Woods,” and it behooved them to be observant.
7293
7294“Just think, Diana, I’m thirteen years old today,” remarked Anne in an
7295awed voice. “I can scarcely realize that I’m in my teens. When I woke
7296this morning it seemed to me that everything must be different. You’ve
7297been thirteen for a month, so I suppose it doesn’t seem such a novelty
7298to you as it does to me. It makes life seem so much more interesting.
7299In two more years I’ll be really grown up. It’s a great comfort to think
7300that I’ll be able to use big words then without being laughed at.”
7301
7302“Ruby Gillis says she means to have a beau as soon as she’s fifteen,”
7303 said Diana.
7304
7305“Ruby Gillis thinks of nothing but beaus,” said Anne disdainfully.
7306“She’s actually delighted when anyone writes her name up in a
7307take-notice for all she pretends to be so mad. But I’m afraid that is an
7308uncharitable speech. Mrs. Allan says we should never make uncharitable
7309speeches; but they do slip out so often before you think, don’t they? I
7310simply can’t talk about Josie Pye without making an uncharitable speech,
7311so I never mention her at all. You may have noticed that. I’m trying to
7312be as much like Mrs. Allan as I possibly can, for I think she’s perfect.
7313Mr. Allan thinks so too. Mrs. Lynde says he just worships the ground she
7314treads on and she doesn’t really think it right for a minister to
7315set his affections so much on a mortal being. But then, Diana, even
7316ministers are human and have their besetting sins just like everybody
7317else. I had such an interesting talk with Mrs. Allan about besetting
7318sins last Sunday afternoon. There are just a few things it’s proper
7319to talk about on Sundays and that is one of them. My besetting sin is
7320imagining too much and forgetting my duties. I’m striving very hard
7321to overcome it and now that I’m really thirteen perhaps I’ll get on
7322better.”
7323
7324“In four more years we’ll be able to put our hair up,” said Diana.
7325“Alice Bell is only sixteen and she is wearing hers up, but I think
7326that’s ridiculous. I shall wait until I’m seventeen.”
7327
7328“If I had Alice Bell’s crooked nose,” said Anne decidedly, “I
7329wouldn’t--but there! I won’t say what I was going to because it was
7330extremely uncharitable. Besides, I was comparing it with my own nose and
7331that’s vanity. I’m afraid I think too much about my nose ever since I
7332heard that compliment about it long ago. It really is a great comfort to
7333me. Oh, Diana, look, there’s a rabbit. That’s something to remember for
7334our woods composition. I really think the woods are just as lovely in
7335winter as in summer. They’re so white and still, as if they were asleep
7336and dreaming pretty dreams.”
7337
7338“I won’t mind writing that composition when its time comes,” sighed
7339Diana. “I can manage to write about the woods, but the one we’re to
7340hand in Monday is terrible. The idea of Miss Stacy telling us to write a
7341story out of our own heads!”
7342
7343“Why, it’s as easy as wink,” said Anne.
7344
7345“It’s easy for you because you have an imagination,” retorted Diana,
7346“but what would you do if you had been born without one? I suppose you
7347have your composition all done?”
7348
7349Anne nodded, trying hard not to look virtuously complacent and failing
7350miserably.
7351
7352“I wrote it last Monday evening. It’s called ‘The Jealous Rival; or In
7353Death Not Divided.’ I read it to Marilla and she said it was stuff and
7354nonsense. Then I read it to Matthew and he said it was fine. That is
7355the kind of critic I like. It’s a sad, sweet story. I just cried like
7356a child while I was writing it. It’s about two beautiful maidens called
7357Cordelia Montmorency and Geraldine Seymour who lived in the same village
7358and were devotedly attached to each other. Cordelia was a regal brunette
7359with a coronet of midnight hair and duskly flashing eyes. Geraldine was
7360a queenly blonde with hair like spun gold and velvety purple eyes.”
7361
7362“I never saw anybody with purple eyes,” said Diana dubiously.
7363
7364“Neither did I. I just imagined them. I wanted something out of the
7365common. Geraldine had an alabaster brow too. I’ve found out what an
7366alabaster brow is. That is one of the advantages of being thirteen. You
7367know so much more than you did when you were only twelve.”
7368
7369“Well, what became of Cordelia and Geraldine?” asked Diana, who was
7370beginning to feel rather interested in their fate.
7371
7372“They grew in beauty side by side until they were sixteen. Then Bertram
7373DeVere came to their native village and fell in love with the fair
7374Geraldine. He saved her life when her horse ran away with her in a
7375carriage, and she fainted in his arms and he carried her home three
7376miles; because, you understand, the carriage was all smashed up. I found
7377it rather hard to imagine the proposal because I had no experience to
7378go by. I asked Ruby Gillis if she knew anything about how men proposed
7379because I thought she’d likely be an authority on the subject, having so
7380many sisters married. Ruby told me she was hid in the hall pantry when
7381Malcolm Andres proposed to her sister Susan. She said Malcolm told Susan
7382that his dad had given him the farm in his own name and then said, ‘What
7383do you say, darling pet, if we get hitched this fall?’ And Susan said,
7384‘Yes--no--I don’t know--let me see’--and there they were, engaged as
7385quick as that. But I didn’t think that sort of a proposal was a very
7386romantic one, so in the end I had to imagine it out as well as I could.
7387I made it very flowery and poetical and Bertram went on his knees,
7388although Ruby Gillis says it isn’t done nowadays. Geraldine accepted
7389him in a speech a page long. I can tell you I took a lot of trouble
7390with that speech. I rewrote it five times and I look upon it as my
7391masterpiece. Bertram gave her a diamond ring and a ruby necklace
7392and told her they would go to Europe for a wedding tour, for he was
7393immensely wealthy. But then, alas, shadows began to darken over their
7394path. Cordelia was secretly in love with Bertram herself and when
7395Geraldine told her about the engagement she was simply furious,
7396especially when she saw the necklace and the diamond ring. All her
7397affection for Geraldine turned to bitter hate and she vowed that she
7398should never marry Bertram. But she pretended to be Geraldine’s friend
7399the same as ever. One evening they were standing on the bridge over a
7400rushing turbulent stream and Cordelia, thinking they were alone, pushed
7401Geraldine over the brink with a wild, mocking, ‘Ha, ha, ha.’ But Bertram
7402saw it all and he at once plunged into the current, exclaiming, ‘I
7403will save thee, my peerless Geraldine.’ But alas, he had forgotten he
7404couldn’t swim, and they were both drowned, clasped in each other’s arms.
7405Their bodies were washed ashore soon afterwards. They were buried in the
7406one grave and their funeral was most imposing, Diana. It’s so much
7407more romantic to end a story up with a funeral than a wedding. As for
7408Cordelia, she went insane with remorse and was shut up in a lunatic
7409asylum. I thought that was a poetical retribution for her crime.”
7410
7411“How perfectly lovely!” sighed Diana, who belonged to Matthew’s school
7412of critics. “I don’t see how you can make up such thrilling things out
7413of your own head, Anne. I wish my imagination was as good as yours.”
7414
7415“It would be if you’d only cultivate it,” said Anne cheeringly. “I’ve
7416just thought of a plan, Diana. Let you and me have a story club all our
7417own and write stories for practice. I’ll help you along until you can
7418do them by yourself. You ought to cultivate your imagination, you know.
7419Miss Stacy says so. Only we must take the right way. I told her about
7420the Haunted Wood, but she said we went the wrong way about it in that.”
7421
7422This was how the story club came into existence. It was limited to Diana
7423and Anne at first, but soon it was extended to include Jane Andrews
7424and Ruby Gillis and one or two others who felt that their imaginations
7425needed cultivating. No boys were allowed in it--although Ruby Gillis
7426opined that their admission would make it more exciting--and each member
7427had to produce one story a week.
7428
7429“It’s extremely interesting,” Anne told Marilla. “Each girl has to read
7430her story out loud and then we talk it over. We are going to keep them
7431all sacredly and have them to read to our descendants. We each write
7432under a nom-de-plume. Mine is Rosamond Montmorency. All the girls
7433do pretty well. Ruby Gillis is rather sentimental. She puts too much
7434lovemaking into her stories and you know too much is worse than too
7435little. Jane never puts any because she says it makes her feel so silly
7436when she had to read it out loud. Jane’s stories are extremely sensible.
7437Then Diana puts too many murders into hers. She says most of the time
7438she doesn’t know what to do with the people so she kills them off to get
7439rid of them. I mostly always have to tell them what to write about, but
7440that isn’t hard for I’ve millions of ideas.”
7441
7442“I think this story-writing business is the foolishest yet,” scoffed
7443Marilla. “You’ll get a pack of nonsense into your heads and waste time
7444that should be put on your lessons. Reading stories is bad enough but
7445writing them is worse.”
7446
7447“But we’re so careful to put a moral into them all, Marilla,” explained
7448Anne. “I insist upon that. All the good people are rewarded and all
7449the bad ones are suitably punished. I’m sure that must have a wholesome
7450effect. The moral is the great thing. Mr. Allan says so. I read one of
7451my stories to him and Mrs. Allan and they both agreed that the moral was
7452excellent. Only they laughed in the wrong places. I like it better when
7453people cry. Jane and Ruby almost always cry when I come to the pathetic
7454parts. Diana wrote her Aunt Josephine about our club and her Aunt
7455Josephine wrote back that we were to send her some of our stories. So
7456we copied out four of our very best and sent them. Miss Josephine Barry
7457wrote back that she had never read anything so amusing in her life. That
7458kind of puzzled us because the stories were all very pathetic and almost
7459everybody died. But I’m glad Miss Barry liked them. It shows our club
7460is doing some good in the world. Mrs. Allan says that ought to be our
7461object in everything. I do really try to make it my object but I forget
7462so often when I’m having fun. I hope I shall be a little like Mrs. Allan
7463when I grow up. Do you think there is any prospect of it, Marilla?”
7464
7465“I shouldn’t say there was a great deal” was Marilla’s encouraging
7466answer. “I’m sure Mrs. Allan was never such a silly, forgetful little
7467girl as you are.”
7468
7469“No; but she wasn’t always so good as she is now either,” said Anne
7470seriously. “She told me so herself--that is, she said she was a dreadful
7471mischief when she was a girl and was always getting into scrapes. I felt
7472so encouraged when I heard that. Is it very wicked of me, Marilla,
7473to feel encouraged when I hear that other people have been bad and
7474mischievous? Mrs. Lynde says it is. Mrs. Lynde says she always feels
7475shocked when she hears of anyone ever having been naughty, no matter how
7476small they were. Mrs. Lynde says she once heard a minister confess that
7477when he was a boy he stole a strawberry tart out of his aunt’s pantry
7478and she never had any respect for that minister again. Now, I wouldn’t
7479have felt that way. I’d have thought that it was real noble of him to
7480confess it, and I’d have thought what an encouraging thing it would be
7481for small boys nowadays who do naughty things and are sorry for them
7482to know that perhaps they may grow up to be ministers in spite of it.
7483That’s how I’d feel, Marilla.”
7484
7485“The way I feel at present, Anne,” said Marilla, “is that it’s high time
7486you had those dishes washed. You’ve taken half an hour longer than
7487you should with all your chattering. Learn to work first and talk
7488afterwards.”
7489
7490
7491
7492
7493CHAPTER XXVII. Vanity and Vexation of Spirit
7494
7495
7496Marilla, walking home one late April evening from an Aid meeting,
7497realized that the winter was over and gone with the thrill of delight
7498that spring never fails to bring to the oldest and saddest as well as to
7499the youngest and merriest. Marilla was not given to subjective analysis
7500of her thoughts and feelings. She probably imagined that she was
7501thinking about the Aids and their missionary box and the new carpet
7502for the vestry room, but under these reflections was a harmonious
7503consciousness of red fields smoking into pale-purply mists in the
7504declining sun, of long, sharp-pointed fir shadows falling over the
7505meadow beyond the brook, of still, crimson-budded maples around a
7506mirrorlike wood pool, of a wakening in the world and a stir of hidden
7507pulses under the gray sod. The spring was abroad in the land and
7508Marilla’s sober, middle-aged step was lighter and swifter because of its
7509deep, primal gladness.
7510
7511Her eyes dwelt affectionately on Green Gables, peering through its
7512network of trees and reflecting the sunlight back from its windows in
7513several little coruscations of glory. Marilla, as she picked her steps
7514along the damp lane, thought that it was really a satisfaction to know
7515that she was going home to a briskly snapping wood fire and a table
7516nicely spread for tea, instead of to the cold comfort of old Aid meeting
7517evenings before Anne had come to Green Gables.
7518
7519Consequently, when Marilla entered her kitchen and found the fire black
7520out, with no sign of Anne anywhere, she felt justly disappointed and
7521irritated. She had told Anne to be sure and have tea ready at five
7522o’clock, but now she must hurry to take off her second-best dress and
7523prepare the meal herself against Matthew’s return from plowing.
7524
7525“I’ll settle Miss Anne when she comes home,” said Marilla grimly, as
7526she shaved up kindlings with a carving knife and with more vim than was
7527strictly necessary. Matthew had come in and was waiting patiently for
7528his tea in his corner. “She’s gadding off somewhere with Diana, writing
7529stories or practicing dialogues or some such tomfoolery, and never
7530thinking once about the time or her duties. She’s just got to be pulled
7531up short and sudden on this sort of thing. I don’t care if Mrs. Allan
7532does say she’s the brightest and sweetest child she ever knew. She may
7533be bright and sweet enough, but her head is full of nonsense and there’s
7534never any knowing what shape it’ll break out in next. Just as soon as
7535she grows out of one freak she takes up with another. But there! Here I
7536am saying the very thing I was so riled with Rachel Lynde for saying at
7537the Aid today. I was real glad when Mrs. Allan spoke up for Anne, for
7538if she hadn’t I know I’d have said something too sharp to Rachel before
7539everybody. Anne’s got plenty of faults, goodness knows, and far be it
7540from me to deny it. But I’m bringing her up and not Rachel Lynde, who’d
7541pick faults in the Angel Gabriel himself if he lived in Avonlea. Just
7542the same, Anne has no business to leave the house like this when I told
7543her she was to stay home this afternoon and look after things. I must
7544say, with all her faults, I never found her disobedient or untrustworthy
7545before and I’m real sorry to find her so now.”
7546
7547“Well now, I dunno,” said Matthew, who, being patient and wise and,
7548above all, hungry, had deemed it best to let Marilla talk her wrath
7549out unhindered, having learned by experience that she got through
7550with whatever work was on hand much quicker if not delayed by untimely
7551argument. “Perhaps you’re judging her too hasty, Marilla. Don’t call her
7552untrustworthy until you’re sure she has disobeyed you. Mebbe it can all
7553be explained--Anne’s a great hand at explaining.”
7554
7555“She’s not here when I told her to stay,” retorted Marilla. “I reckon
7556she’ll find it hard to explain _that_ to my satisfaction. Of course I knew
7557you’d take her part, Matthew. But I’m bringing her up, not you.”
7558
7559It was dark when supper was ready, and still no sign of Anne, coming
7560hurriedly over the log bridge or up Lover’s Lane, breathless and
7561repentant with a sense of neglected duties. Marilla washed and put away
7562the dishes grimly. Then, wanting a candle to light her way down the
7563cellar, she went up to the east gable for the one that generally stood
7564on Anne’s table. Lighting it, she turned around to see Anne herself
7565lying on the bed, face downward among the pillows.
7566
7567“Mercy on us,” said astonished Marilla, “have you been asleep, Anne?”
7568
7569“No,” was the muffled reply.
7570
7571“Are you sick then?” demanded Marilla anxiously, going over to the bed.
7572
7573Anne cowered deeper into her pillows as if desirous of hiding herself
7574forever from mortal eyes.
7575
7576“No. But please, Marilla, go away and don’t look at me. I’m in the
7577depths of despair and I don’t care who gets head in class or writes the
7578best composition or sings in the Sunday-school choir any more. Little
7579things like that are of no importance now because I don’t suppose I’ll
7580ever be able to go anywhere again. My career is closed. Please, Marilla,
7581go away and don’t look at me.”
7582
7583“Did anyone ever hear the like?” the mystified Marilla wanted to know.
7584“Anne Shirley, whatever is the matter with you? What have you done? Get
7585right up this minute and tell me. This minute, I say. There now, what is
7586it?”
7587
7588Anne had slid to the floor in despairing obedience.
7589
7590“Look at my hair, Marilla,” she whispered.
7591
7592Accordingly, Marilla lifted her candle and looked scrutinizingly at
7593Anne’s hair, flowing in heavy masses down her back. It certainly had a
7594very strange appearance.
7595
7596“Anne Shirley, what have you done to your hair? Why, it’s _green!_”
7597
7598Green it might be called, if it were any earthly color--a queer,
7599dull, bronzy green, with streaks here and there of the original red
7600to heighten the ghastly effect. Never in all her life had Marilla seen
7601anything so grotesque as Anne’s hair at that moment.
7602
7603“Yes, it’s green,” moaned Anne. “I thought nothing could be as bad as
7604red hair. But now I know it’s ten times worse to have green hair. Oh,
7605Marilla, you little know how utterly wretched I am.”
7606
7607“I little know how you got into this fix, but I mean to find out,” said
7608Marilla. “Come right down to the kitchen--it’s too cold up here--and
7609tell me just what you’ve done. I’ve been expecting something queer for
7610some time. You haven’t got into any scrape for over two months, and I
7611was sure another one was due. Now, then, what did you do to your hair?”
7612
7613“I dyed it.”
7614
7615“Dyed it! Dyed your hair! Anne Shirley, didn’t you know it was a wicked
7616thing to do?”
7617
7618“Yes, I knew it was a little wicked,” admitted Anne. “But I thought it
7619was worth while to be a little wicked to get rid of red hair. I counted
7620the cost, Marilla. Besides, I meant to be extra good in other ways to
7621make up for it.”
7622
7623“Well,” said Marilla sarcastically, “if I’d decided it was worth while
7624to dye my hair I’d have dyed it a decent color at least. I wouldn’t have
7625dyed it green.”
7626
7627“But I didn’t mean to dye it green, Marilla,” protested Anne dejectedly.
7628“If I was wicked I meant to be wicked to some purpose. He said it would
7629turn my hair a beautiful raven black--he positively assured me that it
7630would. How could I doubt his word, Marilla? I know what it feels like
7631to have your word doubted. And Mrs. Allan says we should never suspect
7632anyone of not telling us the truth unless we have proof that they’re
7633not. I have proof now--green hair is proof enough for anybody. But I
7634hadn’t then and I believed every word he said _implicitly_.”
7635
7636“Who said? Who are you talking about?”
7637
7638“The peddler that was here this afternoon. I bought the dye from him.”
7639
7640“Anne Shirley, how often have I told you never to let one of those
7641Italians in the house! I don’t believe in encouraging them to come
7642around at all.”
7643
7644“Oh, I didn’t let him in the house. I remembered what you told me, and I
7645went out, carefully shut the door, and looked at his things on the step.
7646Besides, he wasn’t an Italian--he was a German Jew. He had a big box
7647full of very interesting things and he told me he was working hard to
7648make enough money to bring his wife and children out from Germany. He
7649spoke so feelingly about them that it touched my heart. I wanted to buy
7650something from him to help him in such a worthy object. Then all at once
7651I saw the bottle of hair dye. The peddler said it was warranted to dye
7652any hair a beautiful raven black and wouldn’t wash off. In a trice I
7653saw myself with beautiful raven-black hair and the temptation was
7654irresistible. But the price of the bottle was seventy-five cents and I
7655had only fifty cents left out of my chicken money. I think the peddler
7656had a very kind heart, for he said that, seeing it was me, he’d sell it
7657for fifty cents and that was just giving it away. So I bought it, and as
7658soon as he had gone I came up here and applied it with an old hairbrush
7659as the directions said. I used up the whole bottle, and oh, Marilla,
7660when I saw the dreadful color it turned my hair I repented of being
7661wicked, I can tell you. And I’ve been repenting ever since.”
7662
7663“Well, I hope you’ll repent to good purpose,” said Marilla severely,
7664“and that you’ve got your eyes opened to where your vanity has led you,
7665Anne. Goodness knows what’s to be done. I suppose the first thing is to
7666give your hair a good washing and see if that will do any good.”
7667
7668Accordingly, Anne washed her hair, scrubbing it vigorously with soap and
7669water, but for all the difference it made she might as well have been
7670scouring its original red. The peddler had certainly spoken the truth
7671when he declared that the dye wouldn’t wash off, however his veracity
7672might be impeached in other respects.
7673
7674“Oh, Marilla, what shall I do?” questioned Anne in tears. “I can never
7675live this down. People have pretty well forgotten my other mistakes--the
7676liniment cake and setting Diana drunk and flying into a temper with
7677Mrs. Lynde. But they’ll never forget this. They will think I am not
7678respectable. Oh, Marilla, ‘what a tangled web we weave when first we
7679practice to deceive.’ That is poetry, but it is true. And oh, how Josie
7680Pye will laugh! Marilla, I _cannot_ face Josie Pye. I am the unhappiest
7681girl in Prince Edward Island.”
7682
7683Anne’s unhappiness continued for a week. During that time she went
7684nowhere and shampooed her hair every day. Diana alone of outsiders knew
7685the fatal secret, but she promised solemnly never to tell, and it may
7686be stated here and now that she kept her word. At the end of the week
7687Marilla said decidedly:
7688
7689“It’s no use, Anne. That is fast dye if ever there was any. Your hair
7690must be cut off; there is no other way. You can’t go out with it looking
7691like that.”
7692
7693Anne’s lips quivered, but she realized the bitter truth of Marilla’s
7694remarks. With a dismal sigh she went for the scissors.
7695
7696“Please cut it off at once, Marilla, and have it over. Oh, I feel that
7697my heart is broken. This is such an unromantic affliction. The girls in
7698books lose their hair in fevers or sell it to get money for some good
7699deed, and I’m sure I wouldn’t mind losing my hair in some such fashion
7700half so much. But there is nothing comforting in having your hair cut
7701off because you’ve dyed it a dreadful color, is there? I’m going to weep
7702all the time you’re cutting it off, if it won’t interfere. It seems such
7703a tragic thing.”
7704
7705Anne wept then, but later on, when she went upstairs and looked in the
7706glass, she was calm with despair. Marilla had done her work thoroughly
7707and it had been necessary to shingle the hair as closely as possible.
7708The result was not becoming, to state the case as mildly as may be. Anne
7709promptly turned her glass to the wall.
7710
7711“I’ll never, never look at myself again until my hair grows,” she
7712exclaimed passionately.
7713
7714Then she suddenly righted the glass.
7715
7716“Yes, I will, too. I’d do penance for being wicked that way. I’ll look
7717at myself every time I come to my room and see how ugly I am. And I
7718won’t try to imagine it away, either. I never thought I was vain about
7719my hair, of all things, but now I know I was, in spite of its being
7720red, because it was so long and thick and curly. I expect something will
7721happen to my nose next.”
7722
7723Anne’s clipped head made a sensation in school on the following Monday,
7724but to her relief nobody guessed the real reason for it, not even Josie
7725Pye, who, however, did not fail to inform Anne that she looked like a
7726perfect scarecrow.
7727
7728“I didn’t say anything when Josie said that to me,” Anne confided
7729that evening to Marilla, who was lying on the sofa after one of her
7730headaches, “because I thought it was part of my punishment and I ought
7731to bear it patiently. It’s hard to be told you look like a scarecrow
7732and I wanted to say something back. But I didn’t. I just swept her one
7733scornful look and then I forgave her. It makes you feel very virtuous
7734when you forgive people, doesn’t it? I mean to devote all my energies
7735to being good after this and I shall never try to be beautiful again. Of
7736course it’s better to be good. I know it is, but it’s sometimes so hard
7737to believe a thing even when you know it. I do really want to be good,
7738Marilla, like you and Mrs. Allan and Miss Stacy, and grow up to be a
7739credit to you. Diana says when my hair begins to grow to tie a black
7740velvet ribbon around my head with a bow at one side. She says she
7741thinks it will be very becoming. I will call it a snood--that sounds so
7742romantic. But am I talking too much, Marilla? Does it hurt your head?”
7743
7744“My head is better now. It was terrible bad this afternoon, though.
7745These headaches of mine are getting worse and worse. I’ll have to see
7746a doctor about them. As for your chatter, I don’t know that I mind
7747it--I’ve got so used to it.”
7748
7749Which was Marilla’s way of saying that she liked to hear it.
7750
7751
7752
7753
7754CHAPTER XXVIII. An Unfortunate Lily Maid
7755
7756
7757|OF course you must be Elaine, Anne,” said Diana. “I could never have
7758the courage to float down there.”
7759
7760“Nor I,” said Ruby Gillis, with a shiver. “I don’t mind floating down
7761when there’s two or three of us in the flat and we can sit up. It’s fun
7762then. But to lie down and pretend I was dead--I just couldn’t. I’d die
7763really of fright.”
7764
7765“Of course it would be romantic,” conceded Jane Andrews, “but I know I
7766couldn’t keep still. I’d be popping up every minute or so to see where I
7767was and if I wasn’t drifting too far out. And you know, Anne, that would
7768spoil the effect.”
7769
7770“But it’s so ridiculous to have a redheaded Elaine,” mourned Anne. “I’m
7771not afraid to float down and I’d love to be Elaine. But it’s ridiculous
7772just the same. Ruby ought to be Elaine because she is so fair and has
7773such lovely long golden hair--Elaine had ‘all her bright hair streaming
7774down,’ you know. And Elaine was the lily maid. Now, a red-haired person
7775cannot be a lily maid.”
7776
7777“Your complexion is just as fair as Ruby’s,” said Diana earnestly, “and
7778your hair is ever so much darker than it used to be before you cut it.”
7779
7780“Oh, do you really think so?” exclaimed Anne, flushing sensitively with
7781delight. “I’ve sometimes thought it was myself--but I never dared to ask
7782anyone for fear she would tell me it wasn’t. Do you think it could be
7783called auburn now, Diana?”
7784
7785“Yes, and I think it is real pretty,” said Diana, looking admiringly at
7786the short, silky curls that clustered over Anne’s head and were held in
7787place by a very jaunty black velvet ribbon and bow.
7788
7789They were standing on the bank of the pond, below Orchard Slope, where
7790a little headland fringed with birches ran out from the bank; at its tip
7791was a small wooden platform built out into the water for the convenience
7792of fishermen and duck hunters. Ruby and Jane were spending the midsummer
7793afternoon with Diana, and Anne had come over to play with them.
7794
7795Anne and Diana had spent most of their playtime that summer on and about
7796the pond. Idlewild was a thing of the past, Mr. Bell having ruthlessly
7797cut down the little circle of trees in his back pasture in the spring.
7798Anne had sat among the stumps and wept, not without an eye to the
7799romance of it; but she was speedily consoled, for, after all, as she and
7800Diana said, big girls of thirteen, going on fourteen, were too old for
7801such childish amusements as playhouses, and there were more fascinating
7802sports to be found about the pond. It was splendid to fish for trout
7803over the bridge and the two girls learned to row themselves about in the
7804little flat-bottomed dory Mr. Barry kept for duck shooting.
7805
7806It was Anne’s idea that they dramatize Elaine. They had studied
7807Tennyson’s poem in school the preceding winter, the Superintendent of
7808Education having prescribed it in the English course for the Prince
7809Edward Island schools. They had analyzed and parsed it and torn it to
7810pieces in general until it was a wonder there was any meaning at all
7811left in it for them, but at least the fair lily maid and Lancelot and
7812Guinevere and King Arthur had become very real people to them, and Anne
7813was devoured by secret regret that she had not been born in Camelot.
7814Those days, she said, were so much more romantic than the present.
7815
7816Anne’s plan was hailed with enthusiasm. The girls had discovered that if
7817the flat were pushed off from the landing place it would drift down
7818with the current under the bridge and finally strand itself on another
7819headland lower down which ran out at a curve in the pond. They had often
7820gone down like this and nothing could be more convenient for playing
7821Elaine.
7822
7823“Well, I’ll be Elaine,” said Anne, yielding reluctantly, for, although
7824she would have been delighted to play the principal character, yet
7825her artistic sense demanded fitness for it and this, she felt, her
7826limitations made impossible. “Ruby, you must be King Arthur and Jane
7827will be Guinevere and Diana must be Lancelot. But first you must be the
7828brothers and the father. We can’t have the old dumb servitor because
7829there isn’t room for two in the flat when one is lying down. We must
7830pall the barge all its length in blackest samite. That old black shawl
7831of your mother’s will be just the thing, Diana.”
7832
7833The black shawl having been procured, Anne spread it over the flat and
7834then lay down on the bottom, with closed eyes and hands folded over her
7835breast.
7836
7837“Oh, she does look really dead,” whispered Ruby Gillis nervously,
7838watching the still, white little face under the flickering shadows of
7839the birches. “It makes me feel frightened, girls. Do you suppose it’s
7840really right to act like this? Mrs. Lynde says that all play-acting is
7841abominably wicked.”
7842
7843“Ruby, you shouldn’t talk about Mrs. Lynde,” said Anne severely. “It
7844spoils the effect because this is hundreds of years before Mrs. Lynde
7845was born. Jane, you arrange this. It’s silly for Elaine to be talking
7846when she’s dead.”
7847
7848Jane rose to the occasion. Cloth of gold for coverlet there was none,
7849but an old piano scarf of yellow Japanese crepe was an excellent
7850substitute. A white lily was not obtainable just then, but the effect of
7851a tall blue iris placed in one of Anne’s folded hands was all that could
7852be desired.
7853
7854“Now, she’s all ready,” said Jane. “We must kiss her quiet brows
7855and, Diana, you say, ‘Sister, farewell forever,’ and Ruby, you say,
7856‘Farewell, sweet sister,’ both of you as sorrowfully as you possibly
7857can. Anne, for goodness sake smile a little. You know Elaine ‘lay as
7858though she smiled.’ That’s better. Now push the flat off.”
7859
7860The flat was accordingly pushed off, scraping roughly over an old
7861embedded stake in the process. Diana and Jane and Ruby only waited long
7862enough to see it caught in the current and headed for the bridge before
7863scampering up through the woods, across the road, and down to the lower
7864headland where, as Lancelot and Guinevere and the King, they were to be
7865in readiness to receive the lily maid.
7866
7867For a few minutes Anne, drifting slowly down, enjoyed the romance of her
7868situation to the full. Then something happened not at all romantic. The
7869flat began to leak. In a very few moments it was necessary for Elaine
7870to scramble to her feet, pick up her cloth of gold coverlet and pall
7871of blackest samite and gaze blankly at a big crack in the bottom of her
7872barge through which the water was literally pouring. That sharp stake at
7873the landing had torn off the strip of batting nailed on the flat. Anne
7874did not know this, but it did not take her long to realize that she was
7875in a dangerous plight. At this rate the flat would fill and sink long
7876before it could drift to the lower headland. Where were the oars? Left
7877behind at the landing!
7878
7879Anne gave one gasping little scream which nobody ever heard; she was
7880white to the lips, but she did not lose her self-possession. There was
7881one chance--just one.
7882
7883“I was horribly frightened,” she told Mrs. Allan the next day, “and it
7884seemed like years while the flat was drifting down to the bridge and the
7885water rising in it every moment. I prayed, Mrs. Allan, most earnestly,
7886but I didn’t shut my eyes to pray, for I knew the only way God could
7887save me was to let the flat float close enough to one of the bridge
7888piles for me to climb up on it. You know the piles are just old tree
7889trunks and there are lots of knots and old branch stubs on them. It was
7890proper to pray, but I had to do my part by watching out and right well
7891I knew it. I just said, ‘Dear God, please take the flat close to a pile
7892and I’ll do the rest,’ over and over again. Under such circumstances you
7893don’t think much about making a flowery prayer. But mine was answered,
7894for the flat bumped right into a pile for a minute and I flung the scarf
7895and the shawl over my shoulder and scrambled up on a big providential
7896stub. And there I was, Mrs. Allan, clinging to that slippery old pile
7897with no way of getting up or down. It was a very unromantic position,
7898but I didn’t think about that at the time. You don’t think much about
7899romance when you have just escaped from a watery grave. I said a
7900grateful prayer at once and then I gave all my attention to holding on
7901tight, for I knew I should probably have to depend on human aid to get
7902back to dry land.”
7903
7904The flat drifted under the bridge and then promptly sank in midstream.
7905Ruby, Jane, and Diana, already awaiting it on the lower headland, saw it
7906disappear before their very eyes and had not a doubt but that Anne
7907had gone down with it. For a moment they stood still, white as sheets,
7908frozen with horror at the tragedy; then, shrieking at the tops of
7909their voices, they started on a frantic run up through the woods, never
7910pausing as they crossed the main road to glance the way of the bridge.
7911Anne, clinging desperately to her precarious foothold, saw their flying
7912forms and heard their shrieks. Help would soon come, but meanwhile her
7913position was a very uncomfortable one.
7914
7915The minutes passed by, each seeming an hour to the unfortunate lily
7916maid. Why didn’t somebody come? Where had the girls gone? Suppose they
7917had fainted, one and all! Suppose nobody ever came! Suppose she grew so
7918tired and cramped that she could hold on no longer! Anne looked at the
7919wicked green depths below her, wavering with long, oily shadows, and
7920shivered. Her imagination began to suggest all manner of gruesome
7921possibilities to her.
7922
7923Then, just as she thought she really could not endure the ache in her
7924arms and wrists another moment, Gilbert Blythe came rowing under the
7925bridge in Harmon Andrews’s dory!
7926
7927Gilbert glanced up and, much to his amazement, beheld a little white
7928scornful face looking down upon him with big, frightened but also
7929scornful gray eyes.
7930
7931“Anne Shirley! How on earth did you get there?” he exclaimed.
7932
7933Without waiting for an answer he pulled close to the pile and extended
7934his hand. There was no help for it; Anne, clinging to Gilbert Blythe’s
7935hand, scrambled down into the dory, where she sat, drabbled and furious,
7936in the stern with her arms full of dripping shawl and wet crepe. It was
7937certainly extremely difficult to be dignified under the circumstances!
7938
7939“What has happened, Anne?” asked Gilbert, taking up his oars. “We were
7940playing Elaine” explained Anne frigidly, without even looking at her
7941rescuer, “and I had to drift down to Camelot in the barge--I mean the
7942flat. The flat began to leak and I climbed out on the pile. The girls
7943went for help. Will you be kind enough to row me to the landing?”
7944
7945Gilbert obligingly rowed to the landing and Anne, disdaining assistance,
7946sprang nimbly on shore.
7947
7948“I’m very much obliged to you,” she said haughtily as she turned away.
7949But Gilbert had also sprung from the boat and now laid a detaining hand
7950on her arm.
7951
7952“Anne,” he said hurriedly, “look here. Can’t we be good friends? I’m
7953awfully sorry I made fun of your hair that time. I didn’t mean to vex
7954you and I only meant it for a joke. Besides, it’s so long ago. I think
7955your hair is awfully pretty now--honest I do. Let’s be friends.”
7956
7957For a moment Anne hesitated. She had an odd, newly awakened
7958consciousness under all her outraged dignity that the half-shy,
7959half-eager expression in Gilbert’s hazel eyes was something that was
7960very good to see. Her heart gave a quick, queer little beat. But the
7961bitterness of her old grievance promptly stiffened up her wavering
7962determination. That scene of two years before flashed back into her
7963recollection as vividly as if it had taken place yesterday. Gilbert had
7964called her “carrots” and had brought about her disgrace before the whole
7965school. Her resentment, which to other and older people might be as
7966laughable as its cause, was in no whit allayed and softened by time
7967seemingly. She hated Gilbert Blythe! She would never forgive him!
7968
7969“No,” she said coldly, “I shall never be friends with you, Gilbert
7970Blythe; and I don’t want to be!”
7971
7972“All right!” Gilbert sprang into his skiff with an angry color in his
7973cheeks. “I’ll never ask you to be friends again, Anne Shirley. And I
7974don’t care either!”
7975
7976He pulled away with swift defiant strokes, and Anne went up the steep,
7977ferny little path under the maples. She held her head very high, but
7978she was conscious of an odd feeling of regret. She almost wished she had
7979answered Gilbert differently. Of course, he had insulted her terribly,
7980but still--! Altogether, Anne rather thought it would be a relief to
7981sit down and have a good cry. She was really quite unstrung, for the
7982reaction from her fright and cramped clinging was making itself felt.
7983
7984Halfway up the path she met Jane and Diana rushing back to the pond in
7985a state narrowly removed from positive frenzy. They had found nobody at
7986Orchard Slope, both Mr. and Mrs. Barry being away. Here Ruby Gillis had
7987succumbed to hysterics, and was left to recover from them as best she
7988might, while Jane and Diana flew through the Haunted Wood and across the
7989brook to Green Gables. There they had found nobody either, for Marilla
7990had gone to Carmody and Matthew was making hay in the back field.
7991
7992“Oh, Anne,” gasped Diana, fairly falling on the former’s neck
7993and weeping with relief and delight, “oh, Anne--we thought--you
7994were--drowned--and we felt like murderers--because we had made--you
7995be--Elaine. And Ruby is in hysterics--oh, Anne, how did you escape?”
7996
7997“I climbed up on one of the piles,” explained Anne wearily, “and Gilbert
7998Blythe came along in Mr. Andrews’s dory and brought me to land.”
7999
8000“Oh, Anne, how splendid of him! Why, it’s so romantic!” said Jane,
8001finding breath enough for utterance at last. “Of course you’ll speak to
8002him after this.”
8003
8004“Of course I won’t,” flashed Anne, with a momentary return of her old
8005spirit. “And I don’t want ever to hear the word ‘romantic’ again, Jane
8006Andrews. I’m awfully sorry you were so frightened, girls. It is all my
8007fault. I feel sure I was born under an unlucky star. Everything I do
8008gets me or my dearest friends into a scrape. We’ve gone and lost your
8009father’s flat, Diana, and I have a presentiment that we’ll not be
8010allowed to row on the pond any more.”
8011
8012Anne’s presentiment proved more trustworthy than presentiments are apt
8013to do. Great was the consternation in the Barry and Cuthbert households
8014when the events of the afternoon became known.
8015
8016“Will you ever have any sense, Anne?” groaned Marilla.
8017
8018“Oh, yes, I think I will, Marilla,” returned Anne optimistically. A good
8019cry, indulged in the grateful solitude of the east gable, had soothed
8020her nerves and restored her to her wonted cheerfulness. “I think my
8021prospects of becoming sensible are brighter now than ever.”
8022
8023“I don’t see how,” said Marilla.
8024
8025“Well,” explained Anne, “I’ve learned a new and valuable lesson today.
8026Ever since I came to Green Gables I’ve been making mistakes, and each
8027mistake has helped to cure me of some great shortcoming. The affair of
8028the amethyst brooch cured me of meddling with things that didn’t belong
8029to me. The Haunted Wood mistake cured me of letting my imagination run
8030away with me. The liniment cake mistake cured me of carelessness in
8031cooking. Dyeing my hair cured me of vanity. I never think about my hair
8032and nose now--at least, very seldom. And today’s mistake is going to
8033cure me of being too romantic. I have come to the conclusion that it is
8034no use trying to be romantic in Avonlea. It was probably easy enough in
8035towered Camelot hundreds of years ago, but romance is not appreciated
8036now. I feel quite sure that you will soon see a great improvement in me
8037in this respect, Marilla.”
8038
8039“I’m sure I hope so,” said Marilla skeptically.
8040
8041But Matthew, who had been sitting mutely in his corner, laid a hand on
8042Anne’s shoulder when Marilla had gone out.
8043
8044“Don’t give up all your romance, Anne,” he whispered shyly, “a little
8045of it is a good thing--not too much, of course--but keep a little of it,
8046Anne, keep a little of it.”
8047
8048
8049
8050
8051CHAPTER XXIX. An Epoch in Anne’s Life
8052
8053
8054|ANNE was bringing the cows home from the back pasture by way of Lover’s
8055Lane. It was a September evening and all the gaps and clearings in the
8056woods were brimmed up with ruby sunset light. Here and there the lane
8057was splashed with it, but for the most part it was already quite shadowy
8058beneath the maples, and the spaces under the firs were filled with a
8059clear violet dusk like airy wine. The winds were out in their tops, and
8060there is no sweeter music on earth than that which the wind makes in the
8061fir trees at evening.
8062
8063The cows swung placidly down the lane, and Anne followed them dreamily,
8064repeating aloud the battle canto from _Marmion_--which had also been part
8065of their English course the preceding winter and which Miss Stacy had
8066made them learn off by heart--and exulting in its rushing lines and the
8067clash of spears in its imagery. When she came to the lines
8068
8069       The stubborn spearsmen still made good
8070       Their dark impenetrable wood,
8071
8072she stopped in ecstasy to shut her eyes that she might the better fancy
8073herself one of that heroic ring. When she opened them again it was to
8074behold Diana coming through the gate that led into the Barry field and
8075looking so important that Anne instantly divined there was news to be
8076told. But betray too eager curiosity she would not.
8077
8078“Isn’t this evening just like a purple dream, Diana? It makes me so glad
8079to be alive. In the mornings I always think the mornings are best; but
8080when evening comes I think it’s lovelier still.”
8081
8082“It’s a very fine evening,” said Diana, “but oh, I have such news, Anne.
8083Guess. You can have three guesses.”
8084
8085“Charlotte Gillis is going to be married in the church after all and
8086Mrs. Allan wants us to decorate it,” cried Anne.
8087
8088“No. Charlotte’s beau won’t agree to that, because nobody ever has been
8089married in the church yet, and he thinks it would seem too much like a
8090funeral. It’s too mean, because it would be such fun. Guess again.”
8091
8092“Jane’s mother is going to let her have a birthday party?”
8093
8094Diana shook her head, her black eyes dancing with merriment.
8095
8096“I can’t think what it can be,” said Anne in despair, “unless it’s that
8097Moody Spurgeon MacPherson saw you home from prayer meeting last night.
8098Did he?”
8099
8100“I should think not,” exclaimed Diana indignantly. “I wouldn’t be likely
8101to boast of it if he did, the horrid creature! I knew you couldn’t guess
8102it. Mother had a letter from Aunt Josephine today, and Aunt Josephine
8103wants you and me to go to town next Tuesday and stop with her for the
8104Exhibition. There!”
8105
8106“Oh, Diana,” whispered Anne, finding it necessary to lean up against a
8107maple tree for support, “do you really mean it? But I’m afraid Marilla
8108won’t let me go. She will say that she can’t encourage gadding about.
8109That was what she said last week when Jane invited me to go with them
8110in their double-seated buggy to the American concert at the White Sands
8111Hotel. I wanted to go, but Marilla said I’d be better at home learning
8112my lessons and so would Jane. I was bitterly disappointed, Diana. I felt
8113so heartbroken that I wouldn’t say my prayers when I went to bed. But I
8114repented of that and got up in the middle of the night and said them.”
8115
8116“I’ll tell you,” said Diana, “we’ll get Mother to ask Marilla. She’ll be
8117more likely to let you go then; and if she does we’ll have the time
8118of our lives, Anne. I’ve never been to an Exhibition, and it’s so
8119aggravating to hear the other girls talking about their trips. Jane and
8120Ruby have been twice, and they’re going this year again.”
8121
8122“I’m not going to think about it at all until I know whether I can go
8123or not,” said Anne resolutely. “If I did and then was disappointed, it
8124would be more than I could bear. But in case I do go I’m very glad my
8125new coat will be ready by that time. Marilla didn’t think I needed a new
8126coat. She said my old one would do very well for another winter and
8127that I ought to be satisfied with having a new dress. The dress is very
8128pretty, Diana--navy blue and made so fashionably. Marilla always makes
8129my dresses fashionably now, because she says she doesn’t intend to have
8130Matthew going to Mrs. Lynde to make them. I’m so glad. It is ever so
8131much easier to be good if your clothes are fashionable. At least, it is
8132easier for me. I suppose it doesn’t make such a difference to naturally
8133good people. But Matthew said I must have a new coat, so Marilla
8134bought a lovely piece of blue broadcloth, and it’s being made by a real
8135dressmaker over at Carmody. It’s to be done Saturday night, and I’m
8136trying not to imagine myself walking up the church aisle on Sunday in
8137my new suit and cap, because I’m afraid it isn’t right to imagine such
8138things. But it just slips into my mind in spite of me. My cap is so
8139pretty. Matthew bought it for me the day we were over at Carmody. It is
8140one of those little blue velvet ones that are all the rage, with gold
8141cord and tassels. Your new hat is elegant, Diana, and so becoming. When
8142I saw you come into church last Sunday my heart swelled with pride to
8143think you were my dearest friend. Do you suppose it’s wrong for us to
8144think so much about our clothes? Marilla says it is very sinful. But it
8145is such an interesting subject, isn’t it?”
8146
8147Marilla agreed to let Anne go to town, and it was arranged that
8148Mr. Barry should take the girls in on the following Tuesday. As
8149Charlottetown was thirty miles away and Mr. Barry wished to go and
8150return the same day, it was necessary to make a very early start. But
8151Anne counted it all joy, and was up before sunrise on Tuesday morning.
8152A glance from her window assured her that the day would be fine, for
8153the eastern sky behind the firs of the Haunted Wood was all silvery
8154and cloudless. Through the gap in the trees a light was shining in the
8155western gable of Orchard Slope, a token that Diana was also up.
8156
8157Anne was dressed by the time Matthew had the fire on and had the
8158breakfast ready when Marilla came down, but for her own part was much
8159too excited to eat. After breakfast the jaunty new cap and jacket were
8160donned, and Anne hastened over the brook and up through the firs to
8161Orchard Slope. Mr. Barry and Diana were waiting for her, and they were
8162soon on the road.
8163
8164It was a long drive, but Anne and Diana enjoyed every minute of it. It
8165was delightful to rattle along over the moist roads in the early red
8166sunlight that was creeping across the shorn harvest fields. The air was
8167fresh and crisp, and little smoke-blue mists curled through the valleys
8168and floated off from the hills. Sometimes the road went through woods
8169where maples were beginning to hang out scarlet banners; sometimes it
8170crossed rivers on bridges that made Anne’s flesh cringe with the old,
8171half-delightful fear; sometimes it wound along a harbor shore and passed
8172by a little cluster of weather-gray fishing huts; again it mounted to
8173hills whence a far sweep of curving upland or misty-blue sky could be
8174seen; but wherever it went there was much of interest to discuss. It was
8175almost noon when they reached town and found their way to “Beechwood.”
8176 It was quite a fine old mansion, set back from the street in a seclusion
8177of green elms and branching beeches. Miss Barry met them at the door
8178with a twinkle in her sharp black eyes.
8179
8180“So you’ve come to see me at last, you Anne-girl,” she said. “Mercy,
8181child, how you have grown! You’re taller than I am, I declare. And
8182you’re ever so much better looking than you used to be, too. But I dare
8183say you know that without being told.”
8184
8185“Indeed I didn’t,” said Anne radiantly. “I know I’m not so freckled as
8186I used to be, so I’ve much to be thankful for, but I really hadn’t dared
8187to hope there was any other improvement. I’m so glad you think there is,
8188Miss Barry.” Miss Barry’s house was furnished with “great magnificence,”
8189 as Anne told Marilla afterward. The two little country girls were rather
8190abashed by the splendor of the parlor where Miss Barry left them when
8191she went to see about dinner.
8192
8193“Isn’t it just like a palace?” whispered Diana. “I never was in Aunt
8194Josephine’s house before, and I’d no idea it was so grand. I just wish
8195Julia Bell could see this--she puts on such airs about her mother’s
8196parlor.”
8197
8198“Velvet carpet,” sighed Anne luxuriously, “and silk curtains! I’ve
8199dreamed of such things, Diana. But do you know I don’t believe I feel
8200very comfortable with them after all. There are so many things in this
8201room and all so splendid that there is no scope for imagination. That is
8202one consolation when you are poor--there are so many more things you can
8203imagine about.”
8204
8205Their sojourn in town was something that Anne and Diana dated from for
8206years. From first to last it was crowded with delights.
8207
8208On Wednesday Miss Barry took them to the Exhibition grounds and kept
8209them there all day.
8210
8211“It was splendid,” Anne related to Marilla later on. “I never imagined
8212anything so interesting. I don’t really know which department was the
8213most interesting. I think I liked the horses and the flowers and the
8214fancywork best. Josie Pye took first prize for knitted lace. I was
8215real glad she did. And I was glad that I felt glad, for it shows I’m
8216improving, don’t you think, Marilla, when I can rejoice in Josie’s
8217success? Mr. Harmon Andrews took second prize for Gravenstein apples
8218and Mr. Bell took first prize for a pig. Diana said she thought it was
8219ridiculous for a Sunday-school superintendent to take a prize in pigs,
8220but I don’t see why. Do you? She said she would always think of it after
8221this when he was praying so solemnly. Clara Louise MacPherson took a
8222prize for painting, and Mrs. Lynde got first prize for homemade butter
8223and cheese. So Avonlea was pretty well represented, wasn’t it? Mrs.
8224Lynde was there that day, and I never knew how much I really liked her
8225until I saw her familiar face among all those strangers. There
8226were thousands of people there, Marilla. It made me feel dreadfully
8227insignificant. And Miss Barry took us up to the grandstand to see
8228the horse races. Mrs. Lynde wouldn’t go; she said horse racing was an
8229abomination and, she being a church member, thought it her bounden duty
8230to set a good example by staying away. But there were so many there I
8231don’t believe Mrs. Lynde’s absence would ever be noticed. I don’t think,
8232though, that I ought to go very often to horse races, because they _are_
8233awfully fascinating. Diana got so excited that she offered to bet me
8234ten cents that the red horse would win. I didn’t believe he would, but
8235I refused to bet, because I wanted to tell Mrs. Allan all about
8236everything, and I felt sure it wouldn’t do to tell her that. It’s always
8237wrong to do anything you can’t tell the minister’s wife. It’s as good as
8238an extra conscience to have a minister’s wife for your friend. And I was
8239very glad I didn’t bet, because the red horse _did_ win, and I would have
8240lost ten cents. So you see that virtue was its own reward. We saw a man
8241go up in a balloon. I’d love to go up in a balloon, Marilla; it would
8242be simply thrilling; and we saw a man selling fortunes. You paid him ten
8243cents and a little bird picked out your fortune for you. Miss Barry gave
8244Diana and me ten cents each to have our fortunes told. Mine was that I
8245would marry a dark-complected man who was very wealthy, and I would go
8246across water to live. I looked carefully at all the dark men I saw after
8247that, but I didn’t care much for any of them, and anyhow I suppose
8248it’s too early to be looking out for him yet. Oh, it was a
8249never-to-be-forgotten day, Marilla. I was so tired I couldn’t sleep at
8250night. Miss Barry put us in the spare room, according to promise. It
8251was an elegant room, Marilla, but somehow sleeping in a spare room isn’t
8252what I used to think it was. That’s the worst of growing up, and I’m
8253beginning to realize it. The things you wanted so much when you were a
8254child don’t seem half so wonderful to you when you get them.”
8255
8256Thursday the girls had a drive in the park, and in the evening Miss
8257Barry took them to a concert in the Academy of Music, where a noted
8258prima donna was to sing. To Anne the evening was a glittering vision of
8259delight.
8260
8261“Oh, Marilla, it was beyond description. I was so excited I couldn’t
8262even talk, so you may know what it was like. I just sat in enraptured
8263silence. Madame Selitsky was perfectly beautiful, and wore white satin
8264and diamonds. But when she began to sing I never thought about anything
8265else. Oh, I can’t tell you how I felt. But it seemed to me that it could
8266never be hard to be good any more. I felt like I do when I look up to
8267the stars. Tears came into my eyes, but, oh, they were such happy tears.
8268I was so sorry when it was all over, and I told Miss Barry I didn’t see
8269how I was ever to return to common life again. She said she thought if
8270we went over to the restaurant across the street and had an ice cream
8271it might help me. That sounded so prosaic; but to my surprise I found
8272it true. The ice cream was delicious, Marilla, and it was so lovely and
8273dissipated to be sitting there eating it at eleven o’clock at night.
8274Diana said she believed she was born for city life. Miss Barry asked
8275me what my opinion was, but I said I would have to think it over very
8276seriously before I could tell her what I really thought. So I thought it
8277over after I went to bed. That is the best time to think things out. And
8278I came to the conclusion, Marilla, that I wasn’t born for city life and
8279that I was glad of it. It’s nice to be eating ice cream at brilliant
8280restaurants at eleven o’clock at night once in a while; but as a regular
8281thing I’d rather be in the east gable at eleven, sound asleep, but kind
8282of knowing even in my sleep that the stars were shining outside and that
8283the wind was blowing in the firs across the brook. I told Miss Barry
8284so at breakfast the next morning and she laughed. Miss Barry generally
8285laughed at anything I said, even when I said the most solemn things. I
8286don’t think I liked it, Marilla, because I wasn’t trying to be funny.
8287But she is a most hospitable lady and treated us royally.”
8288
8289Friday brought going-home time, and Mr. Barry drove in for the girls.
8290
8291“Well, I hope you’ve enjoyed yourselves,” said Miss Barry, as she bade
8292them good-bye.
8293
8294“Indeed we have,” said Diana.
8295
8296“And you, Anne-girl?”
8297
8298“I’ve enjoyed every minute of the time,” said Anne, throwing her arms
8299impulsively about the old woman’s neck and kissing her wrinkled cheek.
8300Diana would never have dared to do such a thing and felt rather aghast
8301at Anne’s freedom. But Miss Barry was pleased, and she stood on her
8302veranda and watched the buggy out of sight. Then she went back into her
8303big house with a sigh. It seemed very lonely, lacking those fresh young
8304lives. Miss Barry was a rather selfish old lady, if the truth must
8305be told, and had never cared much for anybody but herself. She valued
8306people only as they were of service to her or amused her. Anne had
8307amused her, and consequently stood high in the old lady’s good graces.
8308But Miss Barry found herself thinking less about Anne’s quaint speeches
8309than of her fresh enthusiasms, her transparent emotions, her little
8310winning ways, and the sweetness of her eyes and lips.
8311
8312“I thought Marilla Cuthbert was an old fool when I heard she’d adopted
8313a girl out of an orphan asylum,” she said to herself, “but I guess she
8314didn’t make much of a mistake after all. If I’d a child like Anne in the
8315house all the time I’d be a better and happier woman.”
8316
8317Anne and Diana found the drive home as pleasant as the drive
8318in--pleasanter, indeed, since there was the delightful consciousness of
8319home waiting at the end of it. It was sunset when they passed through
8320White Sands and turned into the shore road. Beyond, the Avonlea hills
8321came out darkly against the saffron sky. Behind them the moon was rising
8322out of the sea that grew all radiant and transfigured in her light.
8323Every little cove along the curving road was a marvel of dancing
8324ripples. The waves broke with a soft swish on the rocks below them, and
8325the tang of the sea was in the strong, fresh air.
8326
8327“Oh, but it’s good to be alive and to be going home,” breathed Anne.
8328
8329When she crossed the log bridge over the brook the kitchen light of
8330Green Gables winked her a friendly welcome back, and through the open
8331door shone the hearth fire, sending out its warm red glow athwart the
8332chilly autumn night. Anne ran blithely up the hill and into the kitchen,
8333where a hot supper was waiting on the table.
8334
8335“So you’ve got back?” said Marilla, folding up her knitting.
8336
8337“Yes, and oh, it’s so good to be back,” said Anne joyously. “I could
8338kiss everything, even to the clock. Marilla, a broiled chicken! You
8339don’t mean to say you cooked that for me!”
8340
8341“Yes, I did,” said Marilla. “I thought you’d be hungry after such
8342a drive and need something real appetizing. Hurry and take off your
8343things, and we’ll have supper as soon as Matthew comes in. I’m glad
8344you’ve got back, I must say. It’s been fearful lonesome here without
8345you, and I never put in four longer days.”
8346
8347After supper Anne sat before the fire between Matthew and Marilla, and
8348gave them a full account of her visit.
8349
8350“I’ve had a splendid time,” she concluded happily, “and I feel that it
8351marks an epoch in my life. But the best of it all was the coming home.”
8352
8353
8354
8355CHAPTER XXX. The Queens Class Is Organized
8356
8357
8358|MARILLA laid her knitting on her lap and leaned back in her chair. Her
8359eyes were tired, and she thought vaguely that she must see about having
8360her glasses changed the next time she went to town, for her eyes had
8361grown tired very often of late.
8362
8363It was nearly dark, for the full November twilight had fallen around
8364Green Gables, and the only light in the kitchen came from the dancing
8365red flames in the stove.
8366
8367Anne was curled up Turk-fashion on the hearthrug, gazing into that
8368joyous glow where the sunshine of a hundred summers was being distilled
8369from the maple cordwood. She had been reading, but her book had slipped
8370to the floor, and now she was dreaming, with a smile on her parted lips.
8371Glittering castles in Spain were shaping themselves out of the mists and
8372rainbows of her lively fancy; adventures wonderful and enthralling
8373were happening to her in cloudland--adventures that always turned out
8374triumphantly and never involved her in scrapes like those of actual
8375life.
8376
8377Marilla looked at her with a tenderness that would never have been
8378suffered to reveal itself in any clearer light than that soft mingling
8379of fireshine and shadow. The lesson of a love that should display itself
8380easily in spoken word and open look was one Marilla could never learn.
8381But she had learned to love this slim, gray-eyed girl with an affection
8382all the deeper and stronger from its very undemonstrativeness. Her love
8383made her afraid of being unduly indulgent, indeed. She had an uneasy
8384feeling that it was rather sinful to set one’s heart so intensely on any
8385human creature as she had set hers on Anne, and perhaps she performed a
8386sort of unconscious penance for this by being stricter and more critical
8387than if the girl had been less dear to her. Certainly Anne herself had
8388no idea how Marilla loved her. She sometimes thought wistfully that
8389Marilla was very hard to please and distinctly lacking in sympathy
8390and understanding. But she always checked the thought reproachfully,
8391remembering what she owed to Marilla.
8392
8393“Anne,” said Marilla abruptly, “Miss Stacy was here this afternoon when
8394you were out with Diana.”
8395
8396Anne came back from her other world with a start and a sigh.
8397
8398“Was she? Oh, I’m so sorry I wasn’t in. Why didn’t you call me, Marilla?
8399Diana and I were only over in the Haunted Wood. It’s lovely in the woods
8400now. All the little wood things--the ferns and the satin leaves and the
8401crackerberries--have gone to sleep, just as if somebody had tucked them
8402away until spring under a blanket of leaves. I think it was a little
8403gray fairy with a rainbow scarf that came tiptoeing along the last
8404moonlight night and did it. Diana wouldn’t say much about that, though.
8405Diana has never forgotten the scolding her mother gave her about
8406imagining ghosts into the Haunted Wood. It had a very bad effect on
8407Diana’s imagination. It blighted it. Mrs. Lynde says Myrtle Bell is a
8408blighted being. I asked Ruby Gillis why Myrtle was blighted, and Ruby
8409said she guessed it was because her young man had gone back on her. Ruby
8410Gillis thinks of nothing but young men, and the older she gets the worse
8411she is. Young men are all very well in their place, but it doesn’t do to
8412drag them into everything, does it? Diana and I are thinking seriously
8413of promising each other that we will never marry but be nice old maids
8414and live together forever. Diana hasn’t quite made up her mind though,
8415because she thinks perhaps it would be nobler to marry some wild,
8416dashing, wicked young man and reform him. Diana and I talk a great deal
8417about serious subjects now, you know. We feel that we are so much older
8418than we used to be that it isn’t becoming to talk of childish matters.
8419It’s such a solemn thing to be almost fourteen, Marilla. Miss Stacy took
8420all us girls who are in our teens down to the brook last Wednesday, and
8421talked to us about it. She said we couldn’t be too careful what habits
8422we formed and what ideals we acquired in our teens, because by the time
8423we were twenty our characters would be developed and the foundation laid
8424for our whole future life. And she said if the foundation was shaky we
8425could never build anything really worth while on it. Diana and I talked
8426the matter over coming home from school. We felt extremely solemn,
8427Marilla. And we decided that we would try to be very careful indeed and
8428form respectable habits and learn all we could and be as sensible as
8429possible, so that by the time we were twenty our characters would be
8430properly developed. It’s perfectly appalling to think of being twenty,
8431Marilla. It sounds so fearfully old and grown up. But why was Miss Stacy
8432here this afternoon?”
8433
8434“That is what I want to tell you, Anne, if you’ll ever give me a chance
8435to get a word in edgewise. She was talking about you.”
8436
8437“About me?” Anne looked rather scared. Then she flushed and exclaimed:
8438
8439“Oh, I know what she was saying. I meant to tell you, Marilla, honestly
8440I did, but I forgot. Miss Stacy caught me reading Ben Hur in school
8441yesterday afternoon when I should have been studying my Canadian
8442history. Jane Andrews lent it to me. I was reading it at dinner hour,
8443and I had just got to the chariot race when school went in. I was simply
8444wild to know how it turned out--although I felt sure Ben Hur must win,
8445because it wouldn’t be poetical justice if he didn’t--so I spread the
8446history open on my desk lid and then tucked Ben Hur between the desk and
8447my knee. I just looked as if I were studying Canadian history, you know,
8448while all the while I was reveling in Ben Hur. I was so interested in it
8449that I never noticed Miss Stacy coming down the aisle until all at
8450once I just looked up and there she was looking down at me, so
8451reproachful-like. I can’t tell you how ashamed I felt, Marilla,
8452especially when I heard Josie Pye giggling. Miss Stacy took Ben Hur
8453away, but she never said a word then. She kept me in at recess and
8454talked to me. She said I had done very wrong in two respects. First, I
8455was wasting the time I ought to have put on my studies; and secondly,
8456I was deceiving my teacher in trying to make it appear I was reading a
8457history when it was a storybook instead. I had never realized until that
8458moment, Marilla, that what I was doing was deceitful. I was shocked. I
8459cried bitterly, and asked Miss Stacy to forgive me and I’d never do such
8460a thing again; and I offered to do penance by never so much as looking
8461at Ben Hur for a whole week, not even to see how the chariot race turned
8462out. But Miss Stacy said she wouldn’t require that, and she forgave me
8463freely. So I think it wasn’t very kind of her to come up here to you
8464about it after all.”
8465
8466“Miss Stacy never mentioned such a thing to me, Anne, and its only your
8467guilty conscience that’s the matter with you. You have no business to be
8468taking storybooks to school. You read too many novels anyhow. When I was
8469a girl I wasn’t so much as allowed to look at a novel.”
8470
8471“Oh, how can you call Ben Hur a novel when it’s really such a religious
8472book?” protested Anne. “Of course it’s a little too exciting to be
8473proper reading for Sunday, and I only read it on weekdays. And I never
8474read _any_ book now unless either Miss Stacy or Mrs. Allan thinks it is a
8475proper book for a girl thirteen and three-quarters to read. Miss Stacy
8476made me promise that. She found me reading a book one day called, The
8477Lurid Mystery of the Haunted Hall. It was one Ruby Gillis had lent me,
8478and, oh, Marilla, it was so fascinating and creepy. It just curdled the
8479blood in my veins. But Miss Stacy said it was a very silly, unwholesome
8480book, and she asked me not to read any more of it or any like it. I
8481didn’t mind promising not to read any more like it, but it was _agonizing_
8482to give back that book without knowing how it turned out. But my love
8483for Miss Stacy stood the test and I did. It’s really wonderful, Marilla,
8484what you can do when you’re truly anxious to please a certain person.”
8485
8486“Well, I guess I’ll light the lamp and get to work,” said Marilla. “I
8487see plainly that you don’t want to hear what Miss Stacy had to say.
8488You’re more interested in the sound of your own tongue than in anything
8489else.”
8490
8491“Oh, indeed, Marilla, I do want to hear it,” cried Anne contritely. “I
8492won’t say another word--not one. I know I talk too much, but I am really
8493trying to overcome it, and although I say far too much, yet if you only
8494knew how many things I want to say and don’t, you’d give me some credit
8495for it. Please tell me, Marilla.”
8496
8497“Well, Miss Stacy wants to organize a class among her advanced students
8498who mean to study for the entrance examination into Queen’s. She intends
8499to give them extra lessons for an hour after school. And she came to ask
8500Matthew and me if we would like to have you join it. What do you think
8501about it yourself, Anne? Would you like to go to Queen’s and pass for a
8502teacher?”
8503
8504“Oh, Marilla!” Anne straightened to her knees and clasped her hands.
8505“It’s been the dream of my life--that is, for the last six months, ever
8506since Ruby and Jane began to talk of studying for the Entrance. But I
8507didn’t say anything about it, because I supposed it would be perfectly
8508useless. I’d love to be a teacher. But won’t it be dreadfully expensive?
8509Mr. Andrews says it cost him one hundred and fifty dollars to put Prissy
8510through, and Prissy wasn’t a dunce in geometry.”
8511
8512“I guess you needn’t worry about that part of it. When Matthew and I
8513took you to bring up we resolved we would do the best we could for you
8514and give you a good education. I believe in a girl being fitted to earn
8515her own living whether she ever has to or not. You’ll always have a home
8516at Green Gables as long as Matthew and I are here, but nobody knows what
8517is going to happen in this uncertain world, and it’s just as well to be
8518prepared. So you can join the Queen’s class if you like, Anne.”
8519
8520“Oh, Marilla, thank you.” Anne flung her arms about Marilla’s waist and
8521looked up earnestly into her face. “I’m extremely grateful to you and
8522Matthew. And I’ll study as hard as I can and do my very best to be a
8523credit to you. I warn you not to expect much in geometry, but I think I
8524can hold my own in anything else if I work hard.”
8525
8526“I dare say you’ll get along well enough. Miss Stacy says you are bright
8527and diligent.” Not for worlds would Marilla have told Anne just what
8528Miss Stacy had said about her; that would have been to pamper vanity.
8529“You needn’t rush to any extreme of killing yourself over your books.
8530There is no hurry. You won’t be ready to try the Entrance for a year and
8531a half yet. But it’s well to begin in time and be thoroughly grounded,
8532Miss Stacy says.”
8533
8534“I shall take more interest than ever in my studies now,” said Anne
8535blissfully, “because I have a purpose in life. Mr. Allan says everybody
8536should have a purpose in life and pursue it faithfully. Only he says
8537we must first make sure that it is a worthy purpose. I would call it a
8538worthy purpose to want to be a teacher like Miss Stacy, wouldn’t you,
8539Marilla? I think it’s a very noble profession.”
8540
8541The Queen’s class was organized in due time. Gilbert Blythe, Anne
8542Shirley, Ruby Gillis, Jane Andrews, Josie Pye, Charlie Sloane, and Moody
8543Spurgeon MacPherson joined it. Diana Barry did not, as her parents
8544did not intend to send her to Queen’s. This seemed nothing short of a
8545calamity to Anne. Never, since the night on which Minnie May had had the
8546croup, had she and Diana been separated in anything. On the evening when
8547the Queen’s class first remained in school for the extra lessons and
8548Anne saw Diana go slowly out with the others, to walk home alone through
8549the Birch Path and Violet Vale, it was all the former could do to keep
8550her seat and refrain from rushing impulsively after her chum. A lump
8551came into her throat, and she hastily retired behind the pages of her
8552uplifted Latin grammar to hide the tears in her eyes. Not for worlds
8553would Anne have had Gilbert Blythe or Josie Pye see those tears.
8554
8555“But, oh, Marilla, I really felt that I had tasted the bitterness of
8556death, as Mr. Allan said in his sermon last Sunday, when I saw Diana go
8557out alone,” she said mournfully that night. “I thought how splendid it
8558would have been if Diana had only been going to study for the Entrance,
8559too. But we can’t have things perfect in this imperfect world, as Mrs.
8560Lynde says. Mrs. Lynde isn’t exactly a comforting person sometimes, but
8561there’s no doubt she says a great many very true things. And I think the
8562Queen’s class is going to be extremely interesting. Jane and Ruby
8563are just going to study to be teachers. That is the height of their
8564ambition. Ruby says she will only teach for two years after she gets
8565through, and then she intends to be married. Jane says she will devote
8566her whole life to teaching, and never, never marry, because you are paid
8567a salary for teaching, but a husband won’t pay you anything, and growls
8568if you ask for a share in the egg and butter money. I expect Jane speaks
8569from mournful experience, for Mrs. Lynde says that her father is a
8570perfect old crank, and meaner than second skimmings. Josie Pye says she
8571is just going to college for education’s sake, because she won’t have to
8572earn her own living; she says of course it is different with orphans who
8573are living on charity--_they_ have to hustle. Moody Spurgeon is going to
8574be a minister. Mrs. Lynde says he couldn’t be anything else with a name
8575like that to live up to. I hope it isn’t wicked of me, Marilla, but
8576really the thought of Moody Spurgeon being a minister makes me laugh.
8577He’s such a funny-looking boy with that big fat face, and his little
8578blue eyes, and his ears sticking out like flaps. But perhaps he will
8579be more intellectual looking when he grows up. Charlie Sloane says he’s
8580going to go into politics and be a member of Parliament, but Mrs. Lynde
8581says he’ll never succeed at that, because the Sloanes are all honest
8582people, and it’s only rascals that get on in politics nowadays.”
8583
8584“What is Gilbert Blythe going to be?” queried Marilla, seeing that Anne
8585was opening her Caesar.
8586
8587“I don’t happen to know what Gilbert Blythe’s ambition in life is--if he
8588has any,” said Anne scornfully.
8589
8590There was open rivalry between Gilbert and Anne now. Previously the
8591rivalry had been rather one-sided, but there was no longer any doubt
8592that Gilbert was as determined to be first in class as Anne was. He was
8593a foeman worthy of her steel. The other members of the class tacitly
8594acknowledged their superiority, and never dreamed of trying to compete
8595with them.
8596
8597Since the day by the pond when she had refused to listen to his plea
8598for forgiveness, Gilbert, save for the aforesaid determined rivalry,
8599had evinced no recognition whatever of the existence of Anne Shirley. He
8600talked and jested with the other girls, exchanged books and puzzles with
8601them, discussed lessons and plans, sometimes walked home with one or the
8602other of them from prayer meeting or Debating Club. But Anne Shirley
8603he simply ignored, and Anne found out that it is not pleasant to be
8604ignored. It was in vain that she told herself with a toss of her head
8605that she did not care. Deep down in her wayward, feminine little heart
8606she knew that she did care, and that if she had that chance of the Lake
8607of Shining Waters again she would answer very differently. All at
8608once, as it seemed, and to her secret dismay, she found that the old
8609resentment she had cherished against him was gone--gone just when she
8610most needed its sustaining power. It was in vain that she recalled every
8611incident and emotion of that memorable occasion and tried to feel
8612the old satisfying anger. That day by the pond had witnessed its last
8613spasmodic flicker. Anne realized that she had forgiven and forgotten
8614without knowing it. But it was too late.
8615
8616And at least neither Gilbert nor anybody else, not even Diana, should
8617ever suspect how sorry she was and how much she wished she hadn’t been
8618so proud and horrid! She determined to “shroud her feelings in deepest
8619oblivion,” and it may be stated here and now that she did it, so
8620successfully that Gilbert, who possibly was not quite so indifferent as
8621he seemed, could not console himself with any belief that Anne felt his
8622retaliatory scorn. The only poor comfort he had was that she snubbed
8623Charlie Sloane, unmercifully, continually, and undeservedly.
8624
8625Otherwise the winter passed away in a round of pleasant duties and
8626studies. For Anne the days slipped by like golden beads on the necklace
8627of the year. She was happy, eager, interested; there were lessons to be
8628learned and honor to be won; delightful books to read; new pieces to be
8629practiced for the Sunday-school choir; pleasant Saturday afternoons at
8630the manse with Mrs. Allan; and then, almost before Anne realized it,
8631spring had come again to Green Gables and all the world was abloom once
8632more.
8633
8634Studies palled just a wee bit then; the Queen’s class, left behind in
8635school while the others scattered to green lanes and leafy wood cuts and
8636meadow byways, looked wistfully out of the windows and discovered that
8637Latin verbs and French exercises had somehow lost the tang and zest they
8638had possessed in the crisp winter months. Even Anne and Gilbert lagged
8639and grew indifferent. Teacher and taught were alike glad when the term
8640was ended and the glad vacation days stretched rosily before them.
8641
8642“But you’ve done good work this past year,” Miss Stacy told them on the
8643last evening, “and you deserve a good, jolly vacation. Have the best
8644time you can in the out-of-door world and lay in a good stock of health
8645and vitality and ambition to carry you through next year. It will be the
8646tug of war, you know--the last year before the Entrance.”
8647
8648“Are you going to be back next year, Miss Stacy?” asked Josie Pye.
8649
8650Josie Pye never scrupled to ask questions; in this instance the rest of
8651the class felt grateful to her; none of them would have dared to ask
8652it of Miss Stacy, but all wanted to, for there had been alarming rumors
8653running at large through the school for some time that Miss Stacy was
8654not coming back the next year--that she had been offered a position
8655in the grade school of her own home district and meant to accept. The
8656Queen’s class listened in breathless suspense for her answer.
8657
8658“Yes, I think I will,” said Miss Stacy. “I thought of taking another
8659school, but I have decided to come back to Avonlea. To tell the truth,
8660I’ve grown so interested in my pupils here that I found I couldn’t leave
8661them. So I’ll stay and see you through.”
8662
8663“Hurrah!” said Moody Spurgeon. Moody Spurgeon had never been so carried
8664away by his feelings before, and he blushed uncomfortably every time he
8665thought about it for a week.
8666
8667“Oh, I’m so glad,” said Anne, with shining eyes. “Dear Stacy, it would
8668be perfectly dreadful if you didn’t come back. I don’t believe I could
8669have the heart to go on with my studies at all if another teacher came
8670here.”
8671
8672When Anne got home that night she stacked all her textbooks away in an
8673old trunk in the attic, locked it, and threw the key into the blanket
8674box.
8675
8676“I’m not even going to look at a schoolbook in vacation,” she told
8677Marilla. “I’ve studied as hard all the term as I possibly could and I’ve
8678pored over that geometry until I know every proposition in the first
8679book off by heart, even when the letters _are_ changed. I just feel tired
8680of everything sensible and I’m going to let my imagination run riot for
8681the summer. Oh, you needn’t be alarmed, Marilla. I’ll only let it run
8682riot within reasonable limits. But I want to have a real good jolly time
8683this summer, for maybe it’s the last summer I’ll be a little girl. Mrs.
8684Lynde says that if I keep stretching out next year as I’ve done this
8685I’ll have to put on longer skirts. She says I’m all running to legs and
8686eyes. And when I put on longer skirts I shall feel that I have to live
8687up to them and be very dignified. It won’t even do to believe in fairies
8688then, I’m afraid; so I’m going to believe in them with all my whole
8689heart this summer. I think we’re going to have a very gay vacation. Ruby
8690Gillis is going to have a birthday party soon and there’s the Sunday
8691school picnic and the missionary concert next month. And Mr. Barry says
8692that some evening he’ll take Diana and me over to the White Sands Hotel
8693and have dinner there. They have dinner there in the evening, you know.
8694Jane Andrews was over once last summer and she says it was a dazzling
8695sight to see the electric lights and the flowers and all the lady guests
8696in such beautiful dresses. Jane says it was her first glimpse into high
8697life and she’ll never forget it to her dying day.”
8698
8699Mrs. Lynde came up the next afternoon to find out why Marilla had not
8700been at the Aid meeting on Thursday. When Marilla was not at Aid meeting
8701people knew there was something wrong at Green Gables.
8702
8703“Matthew had a bad spell with his heart Thursday,” Marilla explained,
8704“and I didn’t feel like leaving him. Oh, yes, he’s all right again now,
8705but he takes them spells oftener than he used to and I’m anxious about
8706him. The doctor says he must be careful to avoid excitement. That’s easy
8707enough, for Matthew doesn’t go about looking for excitement by any means
8708and never did, but he’s not to do any very heavy work either and you
8709might as well tell Matthew not to breathe as not to work. Come and lay
8710off your things, Rachel. You’ll stay to tea?”
8711
8712“Well, seeing you’re so pressing, perhaps I might as well, stay” said
8713Mrs. Rachel, who had not the slightest intention of doing anything else.
8714
8715Mrs. Rachel and Marilla sat comfortably in the parlor while Anne got the
8716tea and made hot biscuits that were light and white enough to defy even
8717Mrs. Rachel’s criticism.
8718
8719“I must say Anne has turned out a real smart girl,” admitted Mrs.
8720Rachel, as Marilla accompanied her to the end of the lane at sunset.
8721“She must be a great help to you.”
8722
8723“She is,” said Marilla, “and she’s real steady and reliable now. I used
8724to be afraid she’d never get over her featherbrained ways, but she has
8725and I wouldn’t be afraid to trust her in anything now.”
8726
8727“I never would have thought she’d have turned out so well that first day
8728I was here three years ago,” said Mrs. Rachel. “Lawful heart, shall I
8729ever forget that tantrum of hers! When I went home that night I says to
8730Thomas, says I, ‘Mark my words, Thomas, Marilla Cuthbert ‘ll live to
8731rue the step she’s took.’ But I was mistaken and I’m real glad of it. I
8732ain’t one of those kind of people, Marilla, as can never be brought to
8733own up that they’ve made a mistake. No, that never was my way, thank
8734goodness. I did make a mistake in judging Anne, but it weren’t no
8735wonder, for an odder, unexpecteder witch of a child there never was in
8736this world, that’s what. There was no ciphering her out by the rules
8737that worked with other children. It’s nothing short of wonderful how
8738she’s improved these three years, but especially in looks. She’s a real
8739pretty girl got to be, though I can’t say I’m overly partial to that
8740pale, big-eyed style myself. I like more snap and color, like Diana
8741Barry has or Ruby Gillis. Ruby Gillis’s looks are real showy. But
8742somehow--I don’t know how it is but when Anne and them are together,
8743though she ain’t half as handsome, she makes them look kind of common
8744and overdone--something like them white June lilies she calls narcissus
8745alongside of the big, red peonies, that’s what.”
8746
8747
8748
8749
8750CHAPTER XXXI. Where the Brook and River Meet
8751
8752
8753|ANNE had her “good” summer and enjoyed it wholeheartedly. She and Diana
8754fairly lived outdoors, reveling in all the delights that Lover’s Lane
8755and the Dryad’s Bubble and Willowmere and Victoria Island afforded.
8756Marilla offered no objections to Anne’s gypsyings. The Spencervale
8757doctor who had come the night Minnie May had the croup met Anne at the
8758house of a patient one afternoon early in vacation, looked her over
8759sharply, screwed up his mouth, shook his head, and sent a message to
8760Marilla Cuthbert by another person. It was:
8761
8762“Keep that redheaded girl of yours in the open air all summer and don’t
8763let her read books until she gets more spring into her step.”
8764
8765This message frightened Marilla wholesomely. She read Anne’s death
8766warrant by consumption in it unless it was scrupulously obeyed. As a
8767result, Anne had the golden summer of her life as far as freedom and
8768frolic went. She walked, rowed, berried, and dreamed to her heart’s
8769content; and when September came she was bright-eyed and alert, with a
8770step that would have satisfied the Spencervale doctor and a heart full
8771of ambition and zest once more.
8772
8773“I feel just like studying with might and main,” she declared as she
8774brought her books down from the attic. “Oh, you good old friends, I’m
8775glad to see your honest faces once more--yes, even you, geometry. I’ve
8776had a perfectly beautiful summer, Marilla, and now I’m rejoicing as a
8777strong man to run a race, as Mr. Allan said last Sunday. Doesn’t Mr.
8778Allan preach magnificent sermons? Mrs. Lynde says he is improving every
8779day and the first thing we know some city church will gobble him up
8780and then we’ll be left and have to turn to and break in another green
8781preacher. But I don’t see the use of meeting trouble halfway, do you,
8782Marilla? I think it would be better just to enjoy Mr. Allan while we
8783have him. If I were a man I think I’d be a minister. They can have
8784such an influence for good, if their theology is sound; and it must be
8785thrilling to preach splendid sermons and stir your hearers’ hearts. Why
8786can’t women be ministers, Marilla? I asked Mrs. Lynde that and she was
8787shocked and said it would be a scandalous thing. She said there might
8788be female ministers in the States and she believed there was, but thank
8789goodness we hadn’t got to that stage in Canada yet and she hoped we
8790never would. But I don’t see why. I think women would make splendid
8791ministers. When there is a social to be got up or a church tea or
8792anything else to raise money the women have to turn to and do the work.
8793I’m sure Mrs. Lynde can pray every bit as well as Superintendent Bell
8794and I’ve no doubt she could preach too with a little practice.”
8795
8796“Yes, I believe she could,” said Marilla dryly. “She does plenty of
8797unofficial preaching as it is. Nobody has much of a chance to go wrong
8798in Avonlea with Rachel to oversee them.”
8799
8800“Marilla,” said Anne in a burst of confidence, “I want to tell you
8801something and ask you what you think about it. It has worried me
8802terribly--on Sunday afternoons, that is, when I think specially about
8803such matters. I do really want to be good; and when I’m with you or Mrs.
8804Allan or Miss Stacy I want it more than ever and I want to do just what
8805would please you and what you would approve of. But mostly when I’m with
8806Mrs. Lynde I feel desperately wicked and as if I wanted to go and do the
8807very thing she tells me I oughtn’t to do. I feel irresistibly tempted
8808to do it. Now, what do you think is the reason I feel like that? Do you
8809think it’s because I’m really bad and unregenerate?”
8810
8811Marilla looked dubious for a moment. Then she laughed.
8812
8813“If you are I guess I am too, Anne, for Rachel often has that very
8814effect on me. I sometimes think she’d have more of an influence for
8815good, as you say yourself, if she didn’t keep nagging people to do
8816right. There should have been a special commandment against nagging.
8817But there, I shouldn’t talk so. Rachel is a good Christian woman and she
8818means well. There isn’t a kinder soul in Avonlea and she never shirks
8819her share of work.”
8820
8821“I’m very glad you feel the same,” said Anne decidedly. “It’s so
8822encouraging. I shan’t worry so much over that after this. But I dare say
8823there’ll be other things to worry me. They keep coming up new all the
8824time--things to perplex you, you know. You settle one question and
8825there’s another right after. There are so many things to be thought over
8826and decided when you’re beginning to grow up. It keeps me busy all the
8827time thinking them over and deciding what is right. It’s a serious thing
8828to grow up, isn’t it, Marilla? But when I have such good friends as
8829you and Matthew and Mrs. Allan and Miss Stacy I ought to grow up
8830successfully, and I’m sure it will be my own fault if I don’t. I feel
8831it’s a great responsibility because I have only the one chance. If I
8832don’t grow up right I can’t go back and begin over again. I’ve grown two
8833inches this summer, Marilla. Mr. Gillis measured me at Ruby’s party. I’m
8834so glad you made my new dresses longer. That dark-green one is so pretty
8835and it was sweet of you to put on the flounce. Of course I know it
8836wasn’t really necessary, but flounces are so stylish this fall and Josie
8837Pye has flounces on all her dresses. I know I’ll be able to study better
8838because of mine. I shall have such a comfortable feeling deep down in my
8839mind about that flounce.”
8840
8841“It’s worth something to have that,” admitted Marilla.
8842
8843Miss Stacy came back to Avonlea school and found all her pupils eager
8844for work once more. Especially did the Queen’s class gird up their loins
8845for the fray, for at the end of the coming year, dimly shadowing their
8846pathway already, loomed up that fateful thing known as “the Entrance,”
8847 at the thought of which one and all felt their hearts sink into their
8848very shoes. Suppose they did not pass! That thought was doomed to
8849haunt Anne through the waking hours of that winter, Sunday afternoons
8850inclusive, to the almost entire exclusion of moral and theological
8851problems. When Anne had bad dreams she found herself staring miserably
8852at pass lists of the Entrance exams, where Gilbert Blythe’s name was
8853blazoned at the top and in which hers did not appear at all.
8854
8855But it was a jolly, busy, happy swift-flying winter. Schoolwork was
8856as interesting, class rivalry as absorbing, as of yore. New worlds of
8857thought, feeling, and ambition, fresh, fascinating fields of unexplored
8858knowledge seemed to be opening out before Anne’s eager eyes.
8859
8860
8861      “Hills peeped o’er hill and Alps on Alps arose.”
8862
8863
8864Much of all this was due to Miss Stacy’s tactful, careful, broadminded
8865guidance. She led her class to think and explore and discover for
8866themselves and encouraged straying from the old beaten paths to a degree
8867that quite shocked Mrs. Lynde and the school trustees, who viewed all
8868innovations on established methods rather dubiously.
8869
8870Apart from her studies Anne expanded socially, for Marilla, mindful of
8871the Spencervale doctor’s dictum, no longer vetoed occasional outings.
8872The Debating Club flourished and gave several concerts; there were one
8873or two parties almost verging on grown-up affairs; there were sleigh
8874drives and skating frolics galore.
8875
8876Between times Anne grew, shooting up so rapidly that Marilla was
8877astonished one day, when they were standing side by side, to find the
8878girl was taller than herself.
8879
8880“Why, Anne, how you’ve grown!” she said, almost unbelievingly. A sigh
8881followed on the words. Marilla felt a queer regret over Anne’s inches.
8882The child she had learned to love had vanished somehow and here was this
8883tall, serious-eyed girl of fifteen, with the thoughtful brows and the
8884proudly poised little head, in her place. Marilla loved the girl as much
8885as she had loved the child, but she was conscious of a queer sorrowful
8886sense of loss. And that night, when Anne had gone to prayer meeting
8887with Diana, Marilla sat alone in the wintry twilight and indulged in the
8888weakness of a cry. Matthew, coming in with a lantern, caught her at it
8889and gazed at her in such consternation that Marilla had to laugh through
8890her tears.
8891
8892“I was thinking about Anne,” she explained. “She’s got to be such a big
8893girl--and she’ll probably be away from us next winter. I’ll miss her
8894terrible.”
8895
8896“She’ll be able to come home often,” comforted Matthew, to whom Anne was
8897as yet and always would be the little, eager girl he had brought home
8898from Bright River on that June evening four years before. “The branch
8899railroad will be built to Carmody by that time.”
8900
8901“It won’t be the same thing as having her here all the time,” sighed
8902Marilla gloomily, determined to enjoy her luxury of grief uncomforted.
8903“But there--men can’t understand these things!”
8904
8905There were other changes in Anne no less real than the physical change.
8906For one thing, she became much quieter. Perhaps she thought all the
8907more and dreamed as much as ever, but she certainly talked less. Marilla
8908noticed and commented on this also.
8909
8910“You don’t chatter half as much as you used to, Anne, nor use half as
8911many big words. What has come over you?”
8912
8913Anne colored and laughed a little, as she dropped her book and looked
8914dreamily out of the window, where big fat red buds were bursting out on
8915the creeper in response to the lure of the spring sunshine.
8916
8917“I don’t know--I don’t want to talk as much,” she said, denting her
8918chin thoughtfully with her forefinger. “It’s nicer to think dear, pretty
8919thoughts and keep them in one’s heart, like treasures. I don’t like to
8920have them laughed at or wondered over. And somehow I don’t want to use
8921big words any more. It’s almost a pity, isn’t it, now that I’m really
8922growing big enough to say them if I did want to. It’s fun to be almost
8923grown up in some ways, but it’s not the kind of fun I expected, Marilla.
8924There’s so much to learn and do and think that there isn’t time for big
8925words. Besides, Miss Stacy says the short ones are much stronger and
8926better. She makes us write all our essays as simply as possible. It was
8927hard at first. I was so used to crowding in all the fine big words I
8928could think of--and I thought of any number of them. But I’ve got used
8929to it now and I see it’s so much better.”
8930
8931“What has become of your story club? I haven’t heard you speak of it for
8932a long time.”
8933
8934“The story club isn’t in existence any longer. We hadn’t time for
8935it--and anyhow I think we had got tired of it. It was silly to be
8936writing about love and murder and elopements and mysteries. Miss Stacy
8937sometimes has us write a story for training in composition, but she
8938won’t let us write anything but what might happen in Avonlea in our own
8939lives, and she criticizes it very sharply and makes us criticize our own
8940too. I never thought my compositions had so many faults until I began to
8941look for them myself. I felt so ashamed I wanted to give up altogether,
8942but Miss Stacy said I could learn to write well if I only trained myself
8943to be my own severest critic. And so I am trying to.”
8944
8945“You’ve only two more months before the Entrance,” said Marilla. “Do you
8946think you’ll be able to get through?”
8947
8948Anne shivered.
8949
8950“I don’t know. Sometimes I think I’ll be all right--and then I get
8951horribly afraid. We’ve studied hard and Miss Stacy has drilled us
8952thoroughly, but we mayn’t get through for all that. We’ve each got a
8953stumbling block. Mine is geometry of course, and Jane’s is Latin, and
8954Ruby and Charlie’s is algebra, and Josie’s is arithmetic. Moody Spurgeon
8955says he feels it in his bones that he is going to fail in English
8956history. Miss Stacy is going to give us examinations in June just as
8957hard as we’ll have at the Entrance and mark us just as strictly, so
8958we’ll have some idea. I wish it was all over, Marilla. It haunts me.
8959Sometimes I wake up in the night and wonder what I’ll do if I don’t
8960pass.”
8961
8962“Why, go to school next year and try again,” said Marilla unconcernedly.
8963
8964“Oh, I don’t believe I’d have the heart for it. It would be such a
8965disgrace to fail, especially if Gil--if the others passed. And I get so
8966nervous in an examination that I’m likely to make a mess of it. I wish I
8967had nerves like Jane Andrews. Nothing rattles her.”
8968
8969Anne sighed and, dragging her eyes from the witcheries of the spring
8970world, the beckoning day of breeze and blue, and the green things
8971upspringing in the garden, buried herself resolutely in her book.
8972There would be other springs, but if she did not succeed in passing the
8973Entrance, Anne felt convinced that she would never recover sufficiently
8974to enjoy them.
8975
8976
8977
8978
8979
8980CHAPTER XXXII. The Pass List Is Out
8981
8982
8983|WITH the end of June came the close of the term and the close of Miss
8984Stacy’s rule in Avonlea school. Anne and Diana walked home that
8985evening feeling very sober indeed. Red eyes and damp handkerchiefs bore
8986convincing testimony to the fact that Miss Stacy’s farewell words must
8987have been quite as touching as Mr. Phillips’s had been under similar
8988circumstances three years before. Diana looked back at the schoolhouse
8989from the foot of the spruce hill and sighed deeply.
8990
8991“It does seem as if it was the end of everything, doesn’t it?” she said
8992dismally.
8993
8994“You oughtn’t to feel half as badly as I do,” said Anne, hunting vainly
8995for a dry spot on her handkerchief. “You’ll be back again next winter,
8996but I suppose I’ve left the dear old school forever--if I have good
8997luck, that is.”
8998
8999“It won’t be a bit the same. Miss Stacy won’t be there, nor you nor Jane
9000nor Ruby probably. I shall have to sit all alone, for I couldn’t bear
9001to have another deskmate after you. Oh, we have had jolly times, haven’t
9002we, Anne? It’s dreadful to think they’re all over.”
9003
9004Two big tears rolled down by Diana’s nose.
9005
9006“If you would stop crying I could,” said Anne imploringly. “Just as
9007soon as I put away my hanky I see you brimming up and that starts me off
9008again. As Mrs. Lynde says, ‘If you can’t be cheerful, be as cheerful as
9009you can.’ After all, I dare say I’ll be back next year. This is one
9010of the times I _know_ I’m not going to pass. They’re getting alarmingly
9011frequent.”
9012
9013“Why, you came out splendidly in the exams Miss Stacy gave.”
9014
9015“Yes, but those exams didn’t make me nervous. When I think of the real
9016thing you can’t imagine what a horrid cold fluttery feeling comes round
9017my heart. And then my number is thirteen and Josie Pye says it’s so
9018unlucky. I am _not_ superstitious and I know it can make no difference.
9019But still I wish it wasn’t thirteen.”
9020
9021“I do wish I was going in with you,” said Diana. “Wouldn’t we have
9022a perfectly elegant time? But I suppose you’ll have to cram in the
9023evenings.”
9024
9025“No; Miss Stacy has made us promise not to open a book at all. She says
9026it would only tire and confuse us and we are to go out walking and not
9027think about the exams at all and go to bed early. It’s good advice, but
9028I expect it will be hard to follow; good advice is apt to be, I think.
9029Prissy Andrews told me that she sat up half the night every night of her
9030Entrance week and crammed for dear life; and I had determined to sit up
9031_at least_ as long as she did. It was so kind of your Aunt Josephine to
9032ask me to stay at Beechwood while I’m in town.”
9033
9034“You’ll write to me while you’re in, won’t you?”
9035
9036“I’ll write Tuesday night and tell you how the first day goes,” promised
9037Anne.
9038
9039“I’ll be haunting the post office Wednesday,” vowed Diana.
9040
9041Anne went to town the following Monday and on Wednesday Diana haunted
9042the post office, as agreed, and got her letter.
9043
9044
9045“Dearest Diana” [wrote Anne],
9046
9047“Here it is Tuesday night and I’m writing this in the library at
9048Beechwood. Last night I was horribly lonesome all alone in my room and
9049wished so much you were with me. I couldn’t ‘cram’ because I’d promised
9050Miss Stacy not to, but it was as hard to keep from opening my history
9051as it used to be to keep from reading a story before my lessons were
9052learned.
9053
9054“This morning Miss Stacy came for me and we went to the Academy, calling
9055for Jane and Ruby and Josie on our way. Ruby asked me to feel her hands
9056and they were as cold as ice. Josie said I looked as if I hadn’t slept
9057a wink and she didn’t believe I was strong enough to stand the grind
9058of the teacher’s course even if I did get through. There are times and
9059seasons even yet when I don’t feel that I’ve made any great headway in
9060learning to like Josie Pye!
9061
9062“When we reached the Academy there were scores of students there from
9063all over the Island. The first person we saw was Moody Spurgeon sitting
9064on the steps and muttering away to himself. Jane asked him what on earth
9065he was doing and he said he was repeating the multiplication table over
9066and over to steady his nerves and for pity’s sake not to interrupt
9067him, because if he stopped for a moment he got frightened and forgot
9068everything he ever knew, but the multiplication table kept all his facts
9069firmly in their proper place!
9070
9071“When we were assigned to our rooms Miss Stacy had to leave us. Jane and
9072I sat together and Jane was so composed that I envied her. No need of
9073the multiplication table for good, steady, sensible Jane! I wondered if
9074I looked as I felt and if they could hear my heart thumping clear
9075across the room. Then a man came in and began distributing the English
9076examination sheets. My hands grew cold then and my head fairly whirled
9077around as I picked it up. Just one awful moment--Diana, I felt exactly
9078as I did four years ago when I asked Marilla if I might stay at Green
9079Gables--and then everything cleared up in my mind and my heart began
9080beating again--I forgot to say that it had stopped altogether!--for I
9081knew I could do something with _that_ paper anyhow.
9082
9083“At noon we went home for dinner and then back again for history in
9084the afternoon. The history was a pretty hard paper and I got dreadfully
9085mixed up in the dates. Still, I think I did fairly well today. But oh,
9086Diana, tomorrow the geometry exam comes off and when I think of it
9087it takes every bit of determination I possess to keep from opening my
9088Euclid. If I thought the multiplication table would help me any I would
9089recite it from now till tomorrow morning.
9090
9091“I went down to see the other girls this evening. On my way I met Moody
9092Spurgeon wandering distractedly around. He said he knew he had failed in
9093history and he was born to be a disappointment to his parents and he
9094was going home on the morning train; and it would be easier to be a
9095carpenter than a minister, anyhow. I cheered him up and persuaded him to
9096stay to the end because it would be unfair to Miss Stacy if he didn’t.
9097Sometimes I have wished I was born a boy, but when I see Moody Spurgeon
9098I’m always glad I’m a girl and not his sister.
9099
9100“Ruby was in hysterics when I reached their boardinghouse; she had just
9101discovered a fearful mistake she had made in her English paper. When
9102she recovered we went uptown and had an ice cream. How we wished you had
9103been with us.
9104
9105“Oh, Diana, if only the geometry examination were over! But there, as
9106Mrs. Lynde would say, the sun will go on rising and setting whether I
9107fail in geometry or not. That is true but not especially comforting. I
9108think I’d rather it didn’t go on if I failed!
9109
9110“Yours devotedly,
9111
9112“Anne”
9113
9114
9115The geometry examination and all the others were over in due time and
9116Anne arrived home on Friday evening, rather tired but with an air of
9117chastened triumph about her. Diana was over at Green Gables when she
9118arrived and they met as if they had been parted for years.
9119
9120“You old darling, it’s perfectly splendid to see you back again. It
9121seems like an age since you went to town and oh, Anne, how did you get
9122along?”
9123
9124“Pretty well, I think, in everything but the geometry. I don’t know
9125whether I passed in it or not and I have a creepy, crawly presentiment
9126that I didn’t. Oh, how good it is to be back! Green Gables is the
9127dearest, loveliest spot in the world.”
9128
9129“How did the others do?”
9130
9131“The girls say they know they didn’t pass, but I think they did pretty
9132well. Josie says the geometry was so easy a child of ten could do it!
9133Moody Spurgeon still thinks he failed in history and Charlie says he
9134failed in algebra. But we don’t really know anything about it and won’t
9135until the pass list is out. That won’t be for a fortnight. Fancy living
9136a fortnight in such suspense! I wish I could go to sleep and never wake
9137up until it is over.”
9138
9139Diana knew it would be useless to ask how Gilbert Blythe had fared, so
9140she merely said:
9141
9142“Oh, you’ll pass all right. Don’t worry.”
9143
9144“I’d rather not pass at all than not come out pretty well up on the
9145list,” flashed Anne, by which she meant--and Diana knew she meant--that
9146success would be incomplete and bitter if she did not come out ahead of
9147Gilbert Blythe.
9148
9149With this end in view Anne had strained every nerve during the
9150examinations. So had Gilbert. They had met and passed each other on the
9151street a dozen times without any sign of recognition and every time Anne
9152had held her head a little higher and wished a little more earnestly
9153that she had made friends with Gilbert when he asked her, and vowed a
9154little more determinedly to surpass him in the examination. She knew
9155that all Avonlea junior was wondering which would come out first; she
9156even knew that Jimmy Glover and Ned Wright had a bet on the question
9157and that Josie Pye had said there was no doubt in the world that Gilbert
9158would be first; and she felt that her humiliation would be unbearable if
9159she failed.
9160
9161But she had another and nobler motive for wishing to do well. She wanted
9162to “pass high” for the sake of Matthew and Marilla--especially Matthew.
9163Matthew had declared to her his conviction that she “would beat the
9164whole Island.” That, Anne felt, was something it would be foolish to
9165hope for even in the wildest dreams. But she did hope fervently that she
9166would be among the first ten at least, so that she might see Matthew’s
9167kindly brown eyes gleam with pride in her achievement. That, she
9168felt, would be a sweet reward indeed for all her hard work and patient
9169grubbing among unimaginative equations and conjugations.
9170
9171At the end of the fortnight Anne took to “haunting” the post office
9172also, in the distracted company of Jane, Ruby, and Josie, opening the
9173Charlottetown dailies with shaking hands and cold, sinkaway feelings
9174as bad as any experienced during the Entrance week. Charlie and Gilbert
9175were not above doing this too, but Moody Spurgeon stayed resolutely
9176away.
9177
9178“I haven’t got the grit to go there and look at a paper in cold blood,”
9179 he told Anne. “I’m just going to wait until somebody comes and tells me
9180suddenly whether I’ve passed or not.”
9181
9182When three weeks had gone by without the pass list appearing Anne began
9183to feel that she really couldn’t stand the strain much longer. Her
9184appetite failed and her interest in Avonlea doings languished.
9185Mrs. Lynde wanted to know what else you could expect with a Tory
9186superintendent of education at the head of affairs, and Matthew, noting
9187Anne’s paleness and indifference and the lagging steps that bore her
9188home from the post office every afternoon, began seriously to wonder if
9189he hadn’t better vote Grit at the next election.
9190
9191But one evening the news came. Anne was sitting at her open window,
9192for the time forgetful of the woes of examinations and the cares of the
9193world, as she drank in the beauty of the summer dusk, sweet-scented with
9194flower breaths from the garden below and sibilant and rustling from the
9195stir of poplars. The eastern sky above the firs was flushed faintly pink
9196from the reflection of the west, and Anne was wondering dreamily if the
9197spirit of color looked like that, when she saw Diana come flying
9198down through the firs, over the log bridge, and up the slope, with a
9199fluttering newspaper in her hand.
9200
9201Anne sprang to her feet, knowing at once what that paper contained. The
9202pass list was out! Her head whirled and her heart beat until it hurt
9203her. She could not move a step. It seemed an hour to her before Diana
9204came rushing along the hall and burst into the room without even
9205knocking, so great was her excitement.
9206
9207“Anne, you’ve passed,” she cried, “passed the _very first_--you and
9208Gilbert both--you’re ties--but your name is first. Oh, I’m so proud!”
9209
9210Diana flung the paper on the table and herself on Anne’s bed, utterly
9211breathless and incapable of further speech. Anne lighted the lamp,
9212oversetting the match safe and using up half a dozen matches before her
9213shaking hands could accomplish the task. Then she snatched up the paper.
9214Yes, she had passed--there was her name at the very top of a list of two
9215hundred! That moment was worth living for.
9216
9217“You did just splendidly, Anne,” puffed Diana, recovering sufficiently
9218to sit up and speak, for Anne, starry eyed and rapt, had not uttered a
9219word. “Father brought the paper home from Bright River not ten minutes
9220ago--it came out on the afternoon train, you know, and won’t be here
9221till tomorrow by mail--and when I saw the pass list I just rushed over
9222like a wild thing. You’ve all passed, every one of you, Moody Spurgeon
9223and all, although he’s conditioned in history. Jane and Ruby did pretty
9224well--they’re halfway up--and so did Charlie. Josie just scraped through
9225with three marks to spare, but you’ll see she’ll put on as many airs as
9226if she’d led. Won’t Miss Stacy be delighted? Oh, Anne, what does it feel
9227like to see your name at the head of a pass list like that? If it were
9228me I know I’d go crazy with joy. I am pretty near crazy as it is, but
9229you’re as calm and cool as a spring evening.”
9230
9231“I’m just dazzled inside,” said Anne. “I want to say a hundred things,
9232and I can’t find words to say them in. I never dreamed of this--yes, I
9233did too, just once! I let myself think _once_, ‘What if I should come out
9234first?’ quakingly, you know, for it seemed so vain and presumptuous to
9235think I could lead the Island. Excuse me a minute, Diana. I must run
9236right out to the field to tell Matthew. Then we’ll go up the road and
9237tell the good news to the others.”
9238
9239They hurried to the hayfield below the barn where Matthew was coiling
9240hay, and, as luck would have it, Mrs. Lynde was talking to Marilla at
9241the lane fence.
9242
9243“Oh, Matthew,” exclaimed Anne, “I’ve passed and I’m first--or one of the
9244first! I’m not vain, but I’m thankful.”
9245
9246“Well now, I always said it,” said Matthew, gazing at the pass list
9247delightedly. “I knew you could beat them all easy.”
9248
9249“You’ve done pretty well, I must say, Anne,” said Marilla, trying to
9250hide her extreme pride in Anne from Mrs. Rachel’s critical eye. But that
9251good soul said heartily:
9252
9253“I just guess she has done well, and far be it from me to be backward in
9254saying it. You’re a credit to your friends, Anne, that’s what, and we’re
9255all proud of you.”
9256
9257That night Anne, who had wound up the delightful evening with a serious
9258little talk with Mrs. Allan at the manse, knelt sweetly by her open
9259window in a great sheen of moonshine and murmured a prayer of gratitude
9260and aspiration that came straight from her heart. There was in it
9261thankfulness for the past and reverent petition for the future; and when
9262she slept on her white pillow her dreams were as fair and bright and
9263beautiful as maidenhood might desire.
9264
9265
9266
9267
9268CHAPTER XXXIII. The Hotel Concert
9269
9270
9271|PUT on your white organdy, by all means, Anne,” advised Diana
9272decidedly.
9273
9274They were together in the east gable chamber; outside it was only
9275twilight--a lovely yellowish-green twilight with a clear-blue cloudless
9276sky. A big round moon, slowly deepening from her pallid luster into
9277burnished silver, hung over the Haunted Wood; the air was full of sweet
9278summer sounds--sleepy birds twittering, freakish breezes, faraway
9279voices and laughter. But in Anne’s room the blind was drawn and the lamp
9280lighted, for an important toilet was being made.
9281
9282The east gable was a very different place from what it had been on that
9283night four years before, when Anne had felt its bareness penetrate to
9284the marrow of her spirit with its inhospitable chill. Changes had crept
9285in, Marilla conniving at them resignedly, until it was as sweet and
9286dainty a nest as a young girl could desire.
9287
9288The velvet carpet with the pink roses and the pink silk curtains of
9289Anne’s early visions had certainly never materialized; but her dreams
9290had kept pace with her growth, and it is not probable she lamented
9291them. The floor was covered with a pretty matting, and the curtains that
9292softened the high window and fluttered in the vagrant breezes were of
9293pale-green art muslin. The walls, hung not with gold and silver brocade
9294tapestry, but with a dainty apple-blossom paper, were adorned with a few
9295good pictures given Anne by Mrs. Allan. Miss Stacy’s photograph occupied
9296the place of honor, and Anne made a sentimental point of keeping fresh
9297flowers on the bracket under it. Tonight a spike of white lilies faintly
9298perfumed the room like the dream of a fragrance. There was no “mahogany
9299furniture,” but there was a white-painted bookcase filled with books, a
9300cushioned wicker rocker, a toilet table befrilled with white muslin,
9301a quaint, gilt-framed mirror with chubby pink Cupids and purple grapes
9302painted over its arched top, that used to hang in the spare room, and a
9303low white bed.
9304
9305Anne was dressing for a concert at the White Sands Hotel. The guests had
9306got it up in aid of the Charlottetown hospital, and had hunted out all
9307the available amateur talent in the surrounding districts to help it
9308along. Bertha Sampson and Pearl Clay of the White Sands Baptist choir
9309had been asked to sing a duet; Milton Clark of Newbridge was to give a
9310violin solo; Winnie Adella Blair of Carmody was to sing a Scotch ballad;
9311and Laura Spencer of Spencervale and Anne Shirley of Avonlea were to
9312recite.
9313
9314As Anne would have said at one time, it was “an epoch in her life,” and
9315she was deliciously athrill with the excitement of it. Matthew was in
9316the seventh heaven of gratified pride over the honor conferred on his
9317Anne and Marilla was not far behind, although she would have died rather
9318than admit it, and said she didn’t think it was very proper for a lot
9319of young folks to be gadding over to the hotel without any responsible
9320person with them.
9321
9322Anne and Diana were to drive over with Jane Andrews and her brother
9323Billy in their double-seated buggy; and several other Avonlea girls and
9324boys were going too. There was a party of visitors expected out from
9325town, and after the concert a supper was to be given to the performers.
9326
9327“Do you really think the organdy will be best?” queried Anne anxiously.
9328“I don’t think it’s as pretty as my blue-flowered muslin--and it
9329certainly isn’t so fashionable.”
9330
9331 “But it suits you ever so much better,” said Diana. “It’s so soft
9332and frilly and clinging. The muslin is stiff, and makes you look too
9333dressed up. But the organdy seems as if it grew on you.”
9334
9335Anne sighed and yielded. Diana was beginning to have a reputation for
9336notable taste in dressing, and her advice on such subjects was much
9337sought after. She was looking very pretty herself on this particular
9338night in a dress of the lovely wild-rose pink, from which Anne was
9339forever debarred; but she was not to take any part in the concert, so
9340her appearance was of minor importance. All her pains were bestowed upon
9341Anne, who, she vowed, must, for the credit of Avonlea, be dressed and
9342combed and adorned to the Queen’s taste.
9343
9344“Pull out that frill a little more--so; here, let me tie your sash; now
9345for your slippers. I’m going to braid your hair in two thick braids,
9346and tie them halfway up with big white bows--no, don’t pull out a single
9347curl over your forehead--just have the soft part. There is no way you do
9348your hair suits you so well, Anne, and Mrs. Allan says you look like a
9349Madonna when you part it so. I shall fasten this little white house rose
9350just behind your ear. There was just one on my bush, and I saved it for
9351you.”
9352
9353“Shall I put my pearl beads on?” asked Anne. “Matthew brought me a
9354string from town last week, and I know he’d like to see them on me.”
9355
9356Diana pursed up her lips, put her black head on one side critically,
9357and finally pronounced in favor of the beads, which were thereupon tied
9358around Anne’s slim milk-white throat.
9359
9360“There’s something so stylish about you, Anne,” said Diana, with
9361unenvious admiration. “You hold your head with such an air. I suppose
9362it’s your figure. I am just a dumpling. I’ve always been afraid of it,
9363and now I know it is so. Well, I suppose I shall just have to resign
9364myself to it.”
9365
9366“But you have such dimples,” said Anne, smiling affectionately into the
9367pretty, vivacious face so near her own. “Lovely dimples, like little
9368dents in cream. I have given up all hope of dimples. My dimple-dream
9369will never come true; but so many of my dreams have that I mustn’t
9370complain. Am I all ready now?”
9371
9372“All ready,” assured Diana, as Marilla appeared in the doorway, a gaunt
9373figure with grayer hair than of yore and no fewer angles, but with a
9374much softer face. “Come right in and look at our elocutionist, Marilla.
9375Doesn’t she look lovely?”
9376
9377Marilla emitted a sound between a sniff and a grunt.
9378
9379“She looks neat and proper. I like that way of fixing her hair. But I
9380expect she’ll ruin that dress driving over there in the dust and dew
9381with it, and it looks most too thin for these damp nights. Organdy’s the
9382most unserviceable stuff in the world anyhow, and I told Matthew so when
9383he got it. But there is no use in saying anything to Matthew nowadays.
9384Time was when he would take my advice, but now he just buys things for
9385Anne regardless, and the clerks at Carmody know they can palm anything
9386off on him. Just let them tell him a thing is pretty and fashionable,
9387and Matthew plunks his money down for it. Mind you keep your skirt clear
9388of the wheel, Anne, and put your warm jacket on.”
9389
9390Then Marilla stalked downstairs, thinking proudly how sweet Anne looked,
9391with that
9392
9393     “One moonbeam from the forehead to the crown”
9394
9395and regretting that she could not go to the concert herself to hear her
9396girl recite.
9397
9398“I wonder if it _is_ too damp for my dress,” said Anne anxiously.
9399
9400“Not a bit of it,” said Diana, pulling up the window blind. “It’s a
9401perfect night, and there won’t be any dew. Look at the moonlight.”
9402
9403“I’m so glad my window looks east into the sun rising,” said Anne, going
9404over to Diana. “It’s so splendid to see the morning coming up over those
9405long hills and glowing through those sharp fir tops. It’s new every
9406morning, and I feel as if I washed my very soul in that bath of earliest
9407sunshine. Oh, Diana, I love this little room so dearly. I don’t know how
9408I’ll get along without it when I go to town next month.”
9409
9410“Don’t speak of your going away tonight,” begged Diana. “I don’t want to
9411think of it, it makes me so miserable, and I do want to have a good time
9412this evening. What are you going to recite, Anne? And are you nervous?”
9413
9414“Not a bit. I’ve recited so often in public I don’t mind at all now.
9415I’ve decided to give ‘The Maiden’s Vow.’ It’s so pathetic. Laura Spencer
9416is going to give a comic recitation, but I’d rather make people cry than
9417laugh.”
9418
9419“What will you recite if they encore you?”
9420
9421“They won’t dream of encoring me,” scoffed Anne, who was not without her
9422own secret hopes that they would, and already visioned herself telling
9423Matthew all about it at the next morning’s breakfast table. “There are
9424Billy and Jane now--I hear the wheels. Come on.”
9425
9426Billy Andrews insisted that Anne should ride on the front seat with him,
9427so she unwillingly climbed up. She would have much preferred to sit
9428back with the girls, where she could have laughed and chattered to her
9429heart’s content. There was not much of either laughter or chatter
9430in Billy. He was a big, fat, stolid youth of twenty, with a round,
9431expressionless face, and a painful lack of conversational gifts. But he
9432admired Anne immensely, and was puffed up with pride over the prospect
9433of driving to White Sands with that slim, upright figure beside him.
9434
9435Anne, by dint of talking over her shoulder to the girls and occasionally
9436passing a sop of civility to Billy--who grinned and chuckled and never
9437could think of any reply until it was too late--contrived to enjoy the
9438drive in spite of all. It was a night for enjoyment. The road was full
9439of buggies, all bound for the hotel, and laughter, silver clear, echoed
9440and reechoed along it. When they reached the hotel it was a blaze of
9441light from top to bottom. They were met by the ladies of the concert
9442committee, one of whom took Anne off to the performers’ dressing room
9443which was filled with the members of a Charlottetown Symphony Club,
9444among whom Anne felt suddenly shy and frightened and countrified. Her
9445dress, which, in the east gable, had seemed so dainty and pretty, now
9446seemed simple and plain--too simple and plain, she thought, among all
9447the silks and laces that glistened and rustled around her. What were her
9448pearl beads compared to the diamonds of the big, handsome lady near her?
9449And how poor her one wee white rose must look beside all the hothouse
9450flowers the others wore! Anne laid her hat and jacket away, and shrank
9451miserably into a corner. She wished herself back in the white room at
9452Green Gables.
9453
9454It was still worse on the platform of the big concert hall of the hotel,
9455where she presently found herself. The electric lights dazzled her eyes,
9456the perfume and hum bewildered her. She wished she were sitting down
9457in the audience with Diana and Jane, who seemed to be having a splendid
9458time away at the back. She was wedged in between a stout lady in pink
9459silk and a tall, scornful-looking girl in a white-lace dress. The stout
9460lady occasionally turned her head squarely around and surveyed Anne
9461through her eyeglasses until Anne, acutely sensitive of being so
9462scrutinized, felt that she must scream aloud; and the white-lace girl
9463kept talking audibly to her next neighbor about the “country bumpkins”
9464 and “rustic belles” in the audience, languidly anticipating “such fun”
9465 from the displays of local talent on the program. Anne believed that she
9466would hate that white-lace girl to the end of life.
9467
9468Unfortunately for Anne, a professional elocutionist was staying at the
9469hotel and had consented to recite. She was a lithe, dark-eyed woman in a
9470wonderful gown of shimmering gray stuff like woven moonbeams, with gems
9471on her neck and in her dark hair. She had a marvelously flexible voice
9472and wonderful power of expression; the audience went wild over her
9473selection. Anne, forgetting all about herself and her troubles for the
9474time, listened with rapt and shining eyes; but when the recitation ended
9475she suddenly put her hands over her face. She could never get up and
9476recite after that--never. Had she ever thought she could recite? Oh, if
9477she were only back at Green Gables!
9478
9479At this unpropitious moment her name was called. Somehow Anne--who did
9480not notice the rather guilty little start of surprise the white-lace
9481girl gave, and would not have understood the subtle compliment implied
9482therein if she had--got on her feet, and moved dizzily out to the front.
9483She was so pale that Diana and Jane, down in the audience, clasped each
9484other’s hands in nervous sympathy.
9485
9486Anne was the victim of an overwhelming attack of stage fright. Often as
9487she had recited in public, she had never before faced such an audience
9488as this, and the sight of it paralyzed her energies completely.
9489Everything was so strange, so brilliant, so bewildering--the rows of
9490ladies in evening dress, the critical faces, the whole atmosphere of
9491wealth and culture about her. Very different this from the plain benches
9492at the Debating Club, filled with the homely, sympathetic faces of
9493friends and neighbors. These people, she thought, would be merciless
9494critics. Perhaps, like the white-lace girl, they anticipated amusement
9495from her “rustic” efforts. She felt hopelessly, helplessly ashamed and
9496miserable. Her knees trembled, her heart fluttered, a horrible faintness
9497came over her; not a word could she utter, and the next moment she would
9498have fled from the platform despite the humiliation which, she felt,
9499must ever after be her portion if she did so.
9500
9501But suddenly, as her dilated, frightened eyes gazed out over the
9502audience, she saw Gilbert Blythe away at the back of the room, bending
9503forward with a smile on his face--a smile which seemed to Anne at once
9504triumphant and taunting. In reality it was nothing of the kind. Gilbert
9505was merely smiling with appreciation of the whole affair in general and
9506of the effect produced by Anne’s slender white form and spiritual face
9507against a background of palms in particular. Josie Pye, whom he had
9508driven over, sat beside him, and her face certainly was both triumphant
9509and taunting. But Anne did not see Josie, and would not have cared if
9510she had. She drew a long breath and flung her head up proudly, courage
9511and determination tingling over her like an electric shock. She _would
9512not_ fail before Gilbert Blythe--he should never be able to laugh at her,
9513never, never! Her fright and nervousness vanished; and she began her
9514recitation, her clear, sweet voice reaching to the farthest corner of
9515the room without a tremor or a break. Self-possession was fully restored
9516to her, and in the reaction from that horrible moment of powerlessness
9517she recited as she had never done before. When she finished there were
9518bursts of honest applause. Anne, stepping back to her seat, blushing
9519with shyness and delight, found her hand vigorously clasped and shaken
9520by the stout lady in pink silk.
9521
9522“My dear, you did splendidly,” she puffed. “I’ve been crying like a
9523baby, actually I have. There, they’re encoring you--they’re bound to
9524have you back!”
9525
9526“Oh, I can’t go,” said Anne confusedly. “But yet--I must, or Matthew
9527will be disappointed. He said they would encore me.”
9528
9529“Then don’t disappoint Matthew,” said the pink lady, laughing.
9530
9531Smiling, blushing, limpid eyed, Anne tripped back and gave a quaint,
9532funny little selection that captivated her audience still further. The
9533rest of the evening was quite a little triumph for her.
9534
9535When the concert was over, the stout, pink lady--who was the wife of
9536an American millionaire--took her under her wing, and introduced her
9537to everybody; and everybody was very nice to her. The professional
9538elocutionist, Mrs. Evans, came and chatted with her, telling her that
9539she had a charming voice and “interpreted” her selections beautifully.
9540Even the white-lace girl paid her a languid little compliment. They had
9541supper in the big, beautifully decorated dining room; Diana and Jane
9542were invited to partake of this, also, since they had come with Anne,
9543but Billy was nowhere to be found, having decamped in mortal fear
9544of some such invitation. He was in waiting for them, with the team,
9545however, when it was all over, and the three girls came merrily out into
9546the calm, white moonshine radiance. Anne breathed deeply, and looked
9547into the clear sky beyond the dark boughs of the firs.
9548
9549Oh, it was good to be out again in the purity and silence of the night!
9550How great and still and wonderful everything was, with the murmur of the
9551sea sounding through it and the darkling cliffs beyond like grim giants
9552guarding enchanted coasts.
9553
9554“Hasn’t it been a perfectly splendid time?” sighed Jane, as they drove
9555away. “I just wish I was a rich American and could spend my summer at
9556a hotel and wear jewels and low-necked dresses and have ice cream and
9557chicken salad every blessed day. I’m sure it would be ever so much
9558more fun than teaching school. Anne, your recitation was simply great,
9559although I thought at first you were never going to begin. I think it
9560was better than Mrs. Evans’s.”
9561
9562“Oh, no, don’t say things like that, Jane,” said Anne quickly, “because
9563it sounds silly. It couldn’t be better than Mrs. Evans’s, you know, for
9564she is a professional, and I’m only a schoolgirl, with a little knack
9565of reciting. I’m quite satisfied if the people just liked mine pretty
9566well.”
9567
9568“I’ve a compliment for you, Anne,” said Diana. “At least I think it
9569must be a compliment because of the tone he said it in. Part of it
9570was anyhow. There was an American sitting behind Jane and me--such a
9571romantic-looking man, with coal-black hair and eyes. Josie Pye says he
9572is a distinguished artist, and that her mother’s cousin in Boston is
9573married to a man that used to go to school with him. Well, we heard
9574him say--didn’t we, Jane?--‘Who is that girl on the platform with the
9575splendid Titian hair? She has a face I should like to paint.’ There now,
9576Anne. But what does Titian hair mean?”
9577
9578“Being interpreted it means plain red, I guess,” laughed Anne. “Titian
9579was a very famous artist who liked to paint red-haired women.”
9580
9581“_Did_ you see all the diamonds those ladies wore?” sighed Jane. “They
9582were simply dazzling. Wouldn’t you just love to be rich, girls?”
9583
9584“We _are_ rich,” said Anne staunchly. “Why, we have sixteen years to our
9585credit, and we’re happy as queens, and we’ve all got imaginations, more
9586or less. Look at that sea, girls--all silver and shadow and vision of
9587things not seen. We couldn’t enjoy its loveliness any more if we had
9588millions of dollars and ropes of diamonds. You wouldn’t change into any
9589of those women if you could. Would you want to be that white-lace girl
9590and wear a sour look all your life, as if you’d been born turning up
9591your nose at the world? Or the pink lady, kind and nice as she is, so
9592stout and short that you’d really no figure at all? Or even Mrs. Evans,
9593with that sad, sad look in her eyes? She must have been dreadfully
9594unhappy sometime to have such a look. You _know_ you wouldn’t, Jane
9595Andrews!”
9596
9597“I _don’t_ know--exactly,” said Jane unconvinced. “I think diamonds would
9598comfort a person for a good deal.”
9599
9600“Well, I don’t want to be anyone but myself, even if I go uncomforted by
9601diamonds all my life,” declared Anne. “I’m quite content to be Anne of
9602Green Gables, with my string of pearl beads. I know Matthew gave me as
9603much love with them as ever went with Madame the Pink Lady’s jewels.”
9604
9605
9606
9607
9608CHAPTER XXXIV. A Queen’s Girl
9609
9610
9611|THE next three weeks were busy ones at Green Gables, for Anne was
9612getting ready to go to Queen’s, and there was much sewing to be done,
9613and many things to be talked over and arranged. Anne’s outfit was
9614ample and pretty, for Matthew saw to that, and Marilla for once made
9615no objections whatever to anything he purchased or suggested. More--one
9616evening she went up to the east gable with her arms full of a delicate
9617pale green material.
9618
9619“Anne, here’s something for a nice light dress for you. I don’t suppose
9620you really need it; you’ve plenty of pretty waists; but I thought maybe
9621you’d like something real dressy to wear if you were asked out anywhere
9622of an evening in town, to a party or anything like that. I hear that
9623Jane and Ruby and Josie have got ‘evening dresses,’ as they call them,
9624and I don’t mean you shall be behind them. I got Mrs. Allan to help me
9625pick it in town last week, and we’ll get Emily Gillis to make it for
9626you. Emily has got taste, and her fits aren’t to be equaled.”
9627
9628“Oh, Marilla, it’s just lovely,” said Anne. “Thank you so much. I don’t
9629believe you ought to be so kind to me--it’s making it harder every day
9630for me to go away.”
9631
9632The green dress was made up with as many tucks and frills and shirrings
9633as Emily’s taste permitted. Anne put it on one evening for Matthew’s
9634and Marilla’s benefit, and recited “The Maiden’s Vow” for them in the
9635kitchen. As Marilla watched the bright, animated face and graceful
9636motions her thoughts went back to the evening Anne had arrived at Green
9637Gables, and memory recalled a vivid picture of the odd, frightened child
9638in her preposterous yellowish-brown wincey dress, the heartbreak looking
9639out of her tearful eyes. Something in the memory brought tears to
9640Marilla’s own eyes.
9641
9642“I declare, my recitation has made you cry, Marilla,” said Anne gaily
9643stooping over Marilla’s chair to drop a butterfly kiss on that lady’s
9644cheek. “Now, I call that a positive triumph.”
9645
9646“No, I wasn’t crying over your piece,” said Marilla, who would have
9647scorned to be betrayed into such weakness by any poetry stuff. “I just
9648couldn’t help thinking of the little girl you used to be, Anne. And
9649I was wishing you could have stayed a little girl, even with all your
9650queer ways. You’ve grown up now and you’re going away; and you look so
9651tall and stylish and so--so--different altogether in that dress--as if
9652you didn’t belong in Avonlea at all--and I just got lonesome thinking it
9653all over.”
9654
9655“Marilla!” Anne sat down on Marilla’s gingham lap, took Marilla’s lined
9656face between her hands, and looked gravely and tenderly into Marilla’s
9657eyes. “I’m not a bit changed--not really. I’m only just pruned down and
9658branched out. The real _me_--back here--is just the same. It won’t make a
9659bit of difference where I go or how much I change outwardly; at heart I
9660shall always be your little Anne, who will love you and Matthew and dear
9661Green Gables more and better every day of her life.”
9662
9663Anne laid her fresh young cheek against Marilla’s faded one, and reached
9664out a hand to pat Matthew’s shoulder. Marilla would have given much just
9665then to have possessed Anne’s power of putting her feelings into words;
9666but nature and habit had willed it otherwise, and she could only put her
9667arms close about her girl and hold her tenderly to her heart, wishing
9668that she need never let her go.
9669
9670Matthew, with a suspicious moisture in his eyes, got up and went
9671out-of-doors. Under the stars of the blue summer night he walked
9672agitatedly across the yard to the gate under the poplars.
9673
9674“Well now, I guess she ain’t been much spoiled,” he muttered, proudly.
9675“I guess my putting in my oar occasional never did much harm after all.
9676She’s smart and pretty, and loving, too, which is better than all the
9677rest. She’s been a blessing to us, and there never was a luckier mistake
9678than what Mrs. Spencer made--if it _was_ luck. I don’t believe it was any
9679such thing. It was Providence, because the Almighty saw we needed her, I
9680reckon.”
9681
9682The day finally came when Anne must go to town. She and Matthew drove
9683in one fine September morning, after a tearful parting with Diana and an
9684untearful practical one--on Marilla’s side at least--with Marilla. But
9685when Anne had gone Diana dried her tears and went to a beach picnic at
9686White Sands with some of her Carmody cousins, where she contrived
9687to enjoy herself tolerably well; while Marilla plunged fiercely into
9688unnecessary work and kept at it all day long with the bitterest kind of
9689heartache--the ache that burns and gnaws and cannot wash itself away
9690in ready tears. But that night, when Marilla went to bed, acutely and
9691miserably conscious that the little gable room at the end of the
9692hall was untenanted by any vivid young life and unstirred by any soft
9693breathing, she buried her face in her pillow, and wept for her girl in
9694a passion of sobs that appalled her when she grew calm enough to reflect
9695how very wicked it must be to take on so about a sinful fellow creature.
9696
9697Anne and the rest of the Avonlea scholars reached town just in time to
9698hurry off to the Academy. That first day passed pleasantly enough in a
9699whirl of excitement, meeting all the new students, learning to know the
9700professors by sight and being assorted and organized into classes. Anne
9701intended taking up the Second Year work being advised to do so by Miss
9702Stacy; Gilbert Blythe elected to do the same. This meant getting a
9703First Class teacher’s license in one year instead of two, if they were
9704successful; but it also meant much more and harder work. Jane, Ruby,
9705Josie, Charlie, and Moody Spurgeon, not being troubled with the
9706stirrings of ambition, were content to take up the Second Class work.
9707Anne was conscious of a pang of loneliness when she found herself in
9708a room with fifty other students, not one of whom she knew, except the
9709tall, brown-haired boy across the room; and knowing him in the fashion
9710she did, did not help her much, as she reflected pessimistically.
9711Yet she was undeniably glad that they were in the same class; the old
9712rivalry could still be carried on, and Anne would hardly have known what
9713to do if it had been lacking.
9714
9715“I wouldn’t feel comfortable without it,” she thought. “Gilbert looks
9716awfully determined. I suppose he’s making up his mind, here and now, to
9717win the medal. What a splendid chin he has! I never noticed it before.
9718I do wish Jane and Ruby had gone in for First Class, too. I suppose I
9719won’t feel so much like a cat in a strange garret when I get acquainted,
9720though. I wonder which of the girls here are going to be my friends.
9721It’s really an interesting speculation. Of course I promised Diana that
9722no Queen’s girl, no matter how much I liked her, should ever be as dear
9723to me as she is; but I’ve lots of second-best affections to bestow. I
9724like the look of that girl with the brown eyes and the crimson waist.
9725She looks vivid and red-rosy; there’s that pale, fair one gazing out of
9726the window. She has lovely hair, and looks as if she knew a thing or two
9727about dreams. I’d like to know them both--know them well--well enough to
9728walk with my arm about their waists, and call them nicknames. But just
9729now I don’t know them and they don’t know me, and probably don’t want to
9730know me particularly. Oh, it’s lonesome!”
9731
9732It was lonesomer still when Anne found herself alone in her hall bedroom
9733that night at twilight. She was not to board with the other girls, who
9734all had relatives in town to take pity on them. Miss Josephine Barry
9735would have liked to board her, but Beechwood was so far from the
9736Academy that it was out of the question; so Miss Barry hunted up a
9737boarding-house, assuring Matthew and Marilla that it was the very place
9738for Anne.
9739
9740“The lady who keeps it is a reduced gentlewoman,” explained Miss Barry.
9741“Her husband was a British officer, and she is very careful what sort
9742of boarders she takes. Anne will not meet with any objectionable persons
9743under her roof. The table is good, and the house is near the Academy, in
9744a quiet neighborhood.”
9745
9746All this might be quite true, and indeed, proved to be so, but it did
9747not materially help Anne in the first agony of homesickness that seized
9748upon her. She looked dismally about her narrow little room, with its
9749dull-papered, pictureless walls, its small iron bedstead and empty
9750book-case; and a horrible choke came into her throat as she thought of
9751her own white room at Green Gables, where she would have the pleasant
9752consciousness of a great green still outdoors, of sweet peas growing in
9753the garden, and moonlight falling on the orchard, of the brook below the
9754slope and the spruce boughs tossing in the night wind beyond it, of a
9755vast starry sky, and the light from Diana’s window shining out through
9756the gap in the trees. Here there was nothing of this; Anne knew that
9757outside of her window was a hard street, with a network of telephone
9758wires shutting out the sky, the tramp of alien feet, and a thousand
9759lights gleaming on stranger faces. She knew that she was going to cry,
9760and fought against it.
9761
9762“I _won’t_ cry. It’s silly--and weak--there’s the third tear splashing
9763down by my nose. There are more coming! I must think of something funny
9764to stop them. But there’s nothing funny except what is connected with
9765Avonlea, and that only makes things worse--four--five--I’m going home
9766next Friday, but that seems a hundred years away. Oh, Matthew is nearly
9767home by now--and Marilla is at the gate, looking down the lane for
9768him--six--seven--eight--oh, there’s no use in counting them! They’re
9769coming in a flood presently. I can’t cheer up--I don’t _want_ to cheer up.
9770It’s nicer to be miserable!”
9771
9772The flood of tears would have come, no doubt, had not Josie Pye appeared
9773at that moment. In the joy of seeing a familiar face Anne forgot that
9774there had never been much love lost between her and Josie. As a part of
9775Avonlea life even a Pye was welcome.
9776
9777“I’m so glad you came up,” Anne said sincerely.
9778
9779“You’ve been crying,” remarked Josie, with aggravating pity. “I suppose
9780you’re homesick--some people have so little self-control in that
9781respect. I’ve no intention of being homesick, I can tell you. Town’s too
9782jolly after that poky old Avonlea. I wonder how I ever existed there so
9783long. You shouldn’t cry, Anne; it isn’t becoming, for your nose and eyes
9784get red, and then you seem _all_ red. I’d a perfectly scrumptious time in
9785the Academy today. Our French professor is simply a duck. His moustache
9786would give you kerwollowps of the heart. Have you anything eatable
9787around, Anne? I’m literally starving. Ah, I guessed likely Marilla ‘d
9788load you up with cake. That’s why I called round. Otherwise I’d have
9789gone to the park to hear the band play with Frank Stockley. He boards
9790same place as I do, and he’s a sport. He noticed you in class today, and
9791asked me who the red-headed girl was. I told him you were an orphan that
9792the Cuthberts had adopted, and nobody knew very much about what you’d
9793been before that.”
9794
9795Anne was wondering if, after all, solitude and tears were not more
9796satisfactory than Josie Pye’s companionship when Jane and Ruby appeared,
9797each with an inch of Queen’s color ribbon--purple and scarlet--pinned
9798proudly to her coat. As Josie was not “speaking” to Jane just then she
9799had to subside into comparative harmlessness.
9800
9801“Well,” said Jane with a sigh, “I feel as if I’d lived many moons since
9802the morning. I ought to be home studying my Virgil--that horrid old
9803professor gave us twenty lines to start in on tomorrow. But I simply
9804couldn’t settle down to study tonight. Anne, methinks I see the
9805traces of tears. If you’ve been crying _do_ own up. It will restore my
9806self-respect, for I was shedding tears freely before Ruby came along. I
9807don’t mind being a goose so much if somebody else is goosey, too. Cake?
9808You’ll give me a teeny piece, won’t you? Thank you. It has the real
9809Avonlea flavor.”
9810
9811Ruby, perceiving the Queen’s calendar lying on the table, wanted to know
9812if Anne meant to try for the gold medal.
9813
9814Anne blushed and admitted she was thinking of it.
9815
9816“Oh, that reminds me,” said Josie, “Queen’s is to get one of the Avery
9817scholarships after all. The word came today. Frank Stockley told me--his
9818uncle is one of the board of governors, you know. It will be announced
9819in the Academy tomorrow.”
9820
9821An Avery scholarship! Anne felt her heart beat more quickly, and the
9822horizons of her ambition shifted and broadened as if by magic. Before
9823Josie had told the news Anne’s highest pinnacle of aspiration had been
9824a teacher’s provincial license, First Class, at the end of the year, and
9825perhaps the medal! But now in one moment Anne saw herself winning
9826the Avery scholarship, taking an Arts course at Redmond College, and
9827graduating in a gown and mortar board, before the echo of Josie’s words
9828had died away. For the Avery scholarship was in English, and Anne felt
9829that here her foot was on native heath.
9830
9831A wealthy manufacturer of New Brunswick had died and left part of his
9832fortune to endow a large number of scholarships to be distributed
9833among the various high schools and academies of the Maritime Provinces,
9834according to their respective standings. There had been much doubt
9835whether one would be allotted to Queen’s, but the matter was settled at
9836last, and at the end of the year the graduate who made the highest mark
9837in English and English Literature would win the scholarship--two hundred
9838and fifty dollars a year for four years at Redmond College. No wonder
9839that Anne went to bed that night with tingling cheeks!
9840
9841“I’ll win that scholarship if hard work can do it,” she resolved.
9842“Wouldn’t Matthew be proud if I got to be a B.A.? Oh, it’s delightful to
9843have ambitions. I’m so glad I have such a lot. And there never seems to
9844be any end to them--that’s the best of it. Just as soon as you attain
9845to one ambition you see another one glittering higher up still. It does
9846make life so interesting.”
9847
9848
9849
9850
9851CHAPTER XXXV. The Winter at Queen’s
9852
9853
9854|ANNE’S homesickness wore off, greatly helped in the wearing by her
9855weekend visits home. As long as the open weather lasted the Avonlea
9856students went out to Carmody on the new branch railway every Friday
9857night. Diana and several other Avonlea young folks were generally on
9858hand to meet them and they all walked over to Avonlea in a merry party.
9859Anne thought those Friday evening gypsyings over the autumnal hills in
9860the crisp golden air, with the homelights of Avonlea twinkling beyond,
9861were the best and dearest hours in the whole week.
9862
9863Gilbert Blythe nearly always walked with Ruby Gillis and carried her
9864satchel for her. Ruby was a very handsome young lady, now thinking
9865herself quite as grown up as she really was; she wore her skirts as long
9866as her mother would let her and did her hair up in town, though she had
9867to take it down when she went home. She had large, bright-blue eyes,
9868a brilliant complexion, and a plump showy figure. She laughed a great
9869deal, was cheerful and good-tempered, and enjoyed the pleasant things of
9870life frankly.
9871
9872“But I shouldn’t think she was the sort of girl Gilbert would like,”
9873 whispered Jane to Anne. Anne did not think so either, but she would not
9874have said so for the Avery scholarship. She could not help thinking,
9875too, that it would be very pleasant to have such a friend as Gilbert
9876to jest and chatter with and exchange ideas about books and studies and
9877ambitions. Gilbert had ambitions, she knew, and Ruby Gillis did not seem
9878the sort of person with whom such could be profitably discussed.
9879
9880There was no silly sentiment in Anne’s ideas concerning Gilbert. Boys
9881were to her, when she thought about them at all, merely possible good
9882comrades. If she and Gilbert had been friends she would not have cared
9883how many other friends he had nor with whom he walked. She had a genius
9884for friendship; girl friends she had in plenty; but she had a vague
9885consciousness that masculine friendship might also be a good thing
9886to round out one’s conceptions of companionship and furnish broader
9887standpoints of judgment and comparison. Not that Anne could have put her
9888feelings on the matter into just such clear definition. But she thought
9889that if Gilbert had ever walked home with her from the train, over the
9890crisp fields and along the ferny byways, they might have had many and
9891merry and interesting conversations about the new world that was opening
9892around them and their hopes and ambitions therein. Gilbert was a clever
9893young fellow, with his own thoughts about things and a determination to
9894get the best out of life and put the best into it. Ruby Gillis told Jane
9895Andrews that she didn’t understand half the things Gilbert Blythe said;
9896he talked just like Anne Shirley did when she had a thoughtful fit on
9897and for her part she didn’t think it any fun to be bothering about books
9898and that sort of thing when you didn’t have to. Frank Stockley had lots
9899more dash and go, but then he wasn’t half as good-looking as Gilbert and
9900she really couldn’t decide which she liked best!
9901
9902In the Academy Anne gradually drew a little circle of friends about
9903her, thoughtful, imaginative, ambitious students like herself. With the
9904“rose-red” girl, Stella Maynard, and the “dream girl,” Priscilla Grant,
9905she soon became intimate, finding the latter pale spiritual-looking
9906maiden to be full to the brim of mischief and pranks and fun, while the
9907vivid, black-eyed Stella had a heartful of wistful dreams and fancies,
9908as aerial and rainbow-like as Anne’s own.
9909
9910After the Christmas holidays the Avonlea students gave up going home
9911on Fridays and settled down to hard work. By this time all the Queen’s
9912scholars had gravitated into their own places in the ranks and
9913the various classes had assumed distinct and settled shadings of
9914individuality. Certain facts had become generally accepted. It was
9915admitted that the medal contestants had practically narrowed down
9916to three--Gilbert Blythe, Anne Shirley, and Lewis Wilson; the Avery
9917scholarship was more doubtful, any one of a certain six being a possible
9918winner. The bronze medal for mathematics was considered as good as
9919won by a fat, funny little up-country boy with a bumpy forehead and a
9920patched coat.
9921
9922Ruby Gillis was the handsomest girl of the year at the Academy; in the
9923Second Year classes Stella Maynard carried off the palm for beauty, with
9924small but critical minority in favor of Anne Shirley. Ethel Marr was
9925admitted by all competent judges to have the most stylish modes
9926of hair-dressing, and Jane Andrews--plain, plodding, conscientious
9927Jane--carried off the honors in the domestic science course. Even Josie
9928Pye attained a certain preeminence as the sharpest-tongued young lady in
9929attendance at Queen’s. So it may be fairly stated that Miss Stacy’s old
9930pupils held their own in the wider arena of the academical course.
9931
9932Anne worked hard and steadily. Her rivalry with Gilbert was as intense
9933as it had ever been in Avonlea school, although it was not known in the
9934class at large, but somehow the bitterness had gone out of it. Anne no
9935longer wished to win for the sake of defeating Gilbert; rather, for the
9936proud consciousness of a well-won victory over a worthy foeman. It
9937would be worth while to win, but she no longer thought life would be
9938insupportable if she did not.
9939
9940In spite of lessons the students found opportunities for pleasant times.
9941Anne spent many of her spare hours at Beechwood and generally ate her
9942Sunday dinners there and went to church with Miss Barry. The latter was,
9943as she admitted, growing old, but her black eyes were not dim nor the
9944vigor of her tongue in the least abated. But she never sharpened the
9945latter on Anne, who continued to be a prime favorite with the critical
9946old lady.
9947
9948“That Anne-girl improves all the time,” she said. “I get tired of other
9949girls--there is such a provoking and eternal sameness about them. Anne
9950has as many shades as a rainbow and every shade is the prettiest while
9951it lasts. I don’t know that she is as amusing as she was when she was
9952a child, but she makes me love her and I like people who make me love
9953them. It saves me so much trouble in making myself love them.”
9954
9955Then, almost before anybody realized it, spring had come; out in
9956Avonlea the Mayflowers were peeping pinkly out on the sere barrens where
9957snow-wreaths lingered; and the “mist of green” was on the woods and in
9958the valleys. But in Charlottetown harassed Queen’s students thought and
9959talked only of examinations.
9960
9961“It doesn’t seem possible that the term is nearly over,” said Anne.
9962“Why, last fall it seemed so long to look forward to--a whole winter
9963of studies and classes. And here we are, with the exams looming up next
9964week. Girls, sometimes I feel as if those exams meant everything, but
9965when I look at the big buds swelling on those chestnut trees and
9966the misty blue air at the end of the streets they don’t seem half so
9967important.”
9968
9969Jane and Ruby and Josie, who had dropped in, did not take this view
9970of it. To them the coming examinations were constantly very important
9971indeed--far more important than chestnut buds or Maytime hazes. It was
9972all very well for Anne, who was sure of passing at least, to have her
9973moments of belittling them, but when your whole future depended on
9974them--as the girls truly thought theirs did--you could not regard them
9975philosophically.
9976
9977“I’ve lost seven pounds in the last two weeks,” sighed Jane. “It’s no
9978use to say don’t worry. I _will_ worry. Worrying helps you some--it
9979seems as if you were doing something when you’re worrying. It would be
9980dreadful if I failed to get my license after going to Queen’s all winter
9981and spending so much money.”
9982
9983“_I_ don’t care,” said Josie Pye. “If I don’t pass this year I’m coming
9984back next. My father can afford to send me. Anne, Frank Stockley says
9985that Professor Tremaine said Gilbert Blythe was sure to get the medal
9986and that Emily Clay would likely win the Avery scholarship.”
9987
9988“That may make me feel badly tomorrow, Josie,” laughed Anne, “but just
9989now I honestly feel that as long as I know the violets are coming out
9990all purple down in the hollow below Green Gables and that little ferns
9991are poking their heads up in Lovers’ Lane, it’s not a great deal of
9992difference whether I win the Avery or not. I’ve done my best and I begin
9993to understand what is meant by the ‘joy of the strife.’ Next to trying
9994and winning, the best thing is trying and failing. Girls, don’t talk
9995about exams! Look at that arch of pale green sky over those houses
9996and picture to yourself what it must look like over the purply-dark
9997beech-woods back of Avonlea.”
9998
9999“What are you going to wear for commencement, Jane?” asked Ruby
10000practically.
10001
10002Jane and Josie both answered at once and the chatter drifted into a side
10003eddy of fashions. But Anne, with her elbows on the window sill, her soft
10004cheek laid against her clasped hands, and her eyes filled with visions,
10005looked out unheedingly across city roof and spire to that glorious dome
10006of sunset sky and wove her dreams of a possible future from the golden
10007tissue of youth’s own optimism. All the Beyond was hers with its
10008possibilities lurking rosily in the oncoming years--each year a rose of
10009promise to be woven into an immortal chaplet.
10010
10011
10012
10013
10014CHAPTER XXXVI. The Glory and the Dream
10015
10016
10017|ON the morning when the final results of all the examinations were to be
10018posted on the bulletin board at Queen’s, Anne and Jane walked down the
10019street together. Jane was smiling and happy; examinations were over
10020and she was comfortably sure she had made a pass at least; further
10021considerations troubled Jane not at all; she had no soaring ambitions
10022and consequently was not affected with the unrest attendant thereon. For
10023we pay a price for everything we get or take in this world; and although
10024ambitions are well worth having, they are not to be cheaply won, but
10025exact their dues of work and self-denial, anxiety and discouragement.
10026Anne was pale and quiet; in ten more minutes she would know who had
10027won the medal and who the Avery. Beyond those ten minutes there did not
10028seem, just then, to be anything worth being called Time.
10029
10030“Of course you’ll win one of them anyhow,” said Jane, who couldn’t
10031understand how the faculty could be so unfair as to order it otherwise.
10032
10033“I have not hope of the Avery,” said Anne. “Everybody says Emily Clay
10034will win it. And I’m not going to march up to that bulletin board and
10035look at it before everybody. I haven’t the moral courage. I’m going
10036straight to the girls’ dressing room. You must read the announcements
10037and then come and tell me, Jane. And I implore you in the name of our
10038old friendship to do it as quickly as possible. If I have failed just
10039say so, without trying to break it gently; and whatever you do _don’t_
10040sympathize with me. Promise me this, Jane.”
10041
10042Jane promised solemnly; but, as it happened, there was no necessity for
10043such a promise. When they went up the entrance steps of Queen’s they
10044found the hall full of boys who were carrying Gilbert Blythe around on
10045their shoulders and yelling at the tops of their voices, “Hurrah for
10046Blythe, Medalist!”
10047
10048For a moment Anne felt one sickening pang of defeat and disappointment.
10049So she had failed and Gilbert had won! Well, Matthew would be sorry--he
10050had been so sure she would win.
10051
10052And then!
10053
10054Somebody called out:
10055
10056“Three cheers for Miss Shirley, winner of the Avery!”
10057
10058“Oh, Anne,” gasped Jane, as they fled to the girls’ dressing room amid
10059hearty cheers. “Oh, Anne I’m so proud! Isn’t it splendid?”
10060
10061And then the girls were around them and Anne was the center of a
10062laughing, congratulating group. Her shoulders were thumped and her hands
10063shaken vigorously. She was pushed and pulled and hugged and among it all
10064she managed to whisper to Jane:
10065
10066“Oh, won’t Matthew and Marilla be pleased! I must write the news home
10067right away.”
10068
10069Commencement was the next important happening. The exercises were held
10070in the big assembly hall of the Academy. Addresses were given, essays
10071read, songs sung, the public award of diplomas, prizes and medals made.
10072
10073Matthew and Marilla were there, with eyes and ears for only one student
10074on the platform--a tall girl in pale green, with faintly flushed
10075cheeks and starry eyes, who read the best essay and was pointed out and
10076whispered about as the Avery winner.
10077
10078“Reckon you’re glad we kept her, Marilla?” whispered Matthew, speaking
10079for the first time since he had entered the hall, when Anne had finished
10080her essay.
10081
10082“It’s not the first time I’ve been glad,” retorted Marilla. “You do like
10083to rub things in, Matthew Cuthbert.”
10084
10085Miss Barry, who was sitting behind them, leaned forward and poked
10086Marilla in the back with her parasol.
10087
10088“Aren’t you proud of that Anne-girl? I am,” she said.
10089
10090Anne went home to Avonlea with Matthew and Marilla that evening. She had
10091not been home since April and she felt that she could not wait another
10092day. The apple blossoms were out and the world was fresh and young.
10093Diana was at Green Gables to meet her. In her own white room, where
10094Marilla had set a flowering house rose on the window sill, Anne looked
10095about her and drew a long breath of happiness.
10096
10097“Oh, Diana, it’s so good to be back again. It’s so good to see those
10098pointed firs coming out against the pink sky--and that white orchard and
10099the old Snow Queen. Isn’t the breath of the mint delicious? And that tea
10100rose--why, it’s a song and a hope and a prayer all in one. And it’s _good_
10101to see you again, Diana!”
10102
10103“I thought you liked that Stella Maynard better than me,” said
10104Diana reproachfully. “Josie Pye told me you did. Josie said you were
10105_infatuated_ with her.”
10106
10107Anne laughed and pelted Diana with the faded “June lilies” of her
10108bouquet.
10109
10110“Stella Maynard is the dearest girl in the world except one and you are
10111that one, Diana,” she said. “I love you more than ever--and I’ve so many
10112things to tell you. But just now I feel as if it were joy enough to sit
10113here and look at you. I’m tired, I think--tired of being studious and
10114ambitious. I mean to spend at least two hours tomorrow lying out in the
10115orchard grass, thinking of absolutely nothing.”
10116
10117“You’ve done splendidly, Anne. I suppose you won’t be teaching now that
10118you’ve won the Avery?”
10119
10120“No. I’m going to Redmond in September. Doesn’t it seem wonderful? I’ll
10121have a brand new stock of ambition laid in by that time after three
10122glorious, golden months of vacation. Jane and Ruby are going to teach.
10123Isn’t it splendid to think we all got through even to Moody Spurgeon and
10124Josie Pye?”
10125
10126“The Newbridge trustees have offered Jane their school already,” said
10127Diana. “Gilbert Blythe is going to teach, too. He has to. His father
10128can’t afford to send him to college next year, after all, so he means
10129to earn his own way through. I expect he’ll get the school here if Miss
10130Ames decides to leave.”
10131
10132Anne felt a queer little sensation of dismayed surprise. She had not
10133known this; she had expected that Gilbert would be going to Redmond
10134also. What would she do without their inspiring rivalry? Would not
10135work, even at a coeducational college with a real degree in prospect, be
10136rather flat without her friend the enemy?
10137
10138The next morning at breakfast it suddenly struck Anne that Matthew was
10139not looking well. Surely he was much grayer than he had been a year
10140before.
10141
10142“Marilla,” she said hesitatingly when he had gone out, “is Matthew quite
10143well?”
10144
10145“No, he isn’t,” said Marilla in a troubled tone. “He’s had some real
10146bad spells with his heart this spring and he won’t spare himself a mite.
10147I’ve been real worried about him, but he’s some better this while back
10148and we’ve got a good hired man, so I’m hoping he’ll kind of rest and
10149pick up. Maybe he will now you’re home. You always cheer him up.”
10150
10151Anne leaned across the table and took Marilla’s face in her hands.
10152
10153“You are not looking as well yourself as I’d like to see you, Marilla.
10154You look tired. I’m afraid you’ve been working too hard. You must take
10155a rest, now that I’m home. I’m just going to take this one day off to
10156visit all the dear old spots and hunt up my old dreams, and then it will
10157be your turn to be lazy while I do the work.”
10158
10159Marilla smiled affectionately at her girl.
10160
10161“It’s not the work--it’s my head. I’ve got a pain so often now--behind
10162my eyes. Doctor Spencer’s been fussing with glasses, but they don’t do
10163me any good. There is a distinguished oculist coming to the Island the
10164last of June and the doctor says I must see him. I guess I’ll have to.
10165I can’t read or sew with any comfort now. Well, Anne, you’ve done real
10166well at Queen’s I must say. To take First Class License in one year and
10167win the Avery scholarship--well, well, Mrs. Lynde says pride goes before
10168a fall and she doesn’t believe in the higher education of women at all;
10169she says it unfits them for woman’s true sphere. I don’t believe a word
10170of it. Speaking of Rachel reminds me--did you hear anything about the
10171Abbey Bank lately, Anne?”
10172
10173“I heard it was shaky,” answered Anne. “Why?”
10174
10175“That is what Rachel said. She was up here one day last week and said
10176there was some talk about it. Matthew felt real worried. All we have
10177saved is in that bank--every penny. I wanted Matthew to put it in the
10178Savings Bank in the first place, but old Mr. Abbey was a great friend of
10179father’s and he’d always banked with him. Matthew said any bank with him
10180at the head of it was good enough for anybody.”
10181
10182“I think he has only been its nominal head for many years,” said
10183Anne. “He is a very old man; his nephews are really at the head of the
10184institution.”
10185
10186“Well, when Rachel told us that, I wanted Matthew to draw our money
10187right out and he said he’d think of it. But Mr. Russell told him
10188yesterday that the bank was all right.”
10189
10190Anne had her good day in the companionship of the outdoor world. She
10191never forgot that day; it was so bright and golden and fair, so free
10192from shadow and so lavish of blossom. Anne spent some of its rich hours
10193in the orchard; she went to the Dryad’s Bubble and Willowmere and Violet
10194Vale; she called at the manse and had a satisfying talk with Mrs. Allan;
10195and finally in the evening she went with Matthew for the cows, through
10196Lovers’ Lane to the back pasture. The woods were all gloried through
10197with sunset and the warm splendor of it streamed down through the hill
10198gaps in the west. Matthew walked slowly with bent head; Anne, tall and
10199erect, suited her springing step to his.
10200
10201“You’ve been working too hard today, Matthew,” she said reproachfully.
10202“Why won’t you take things easier?”
10203
10204“Well now, I can’t seem to,” said Matthew, as he opened the yard gate
10205to let the cows through. “It’s only that I’m getting old, Anne, and keep
10206forgetting it. Well, well, I’ve always worked pretty hard and I’d rather
10207drop in harness.”
10208
10209“If I had been the boy you sent for,” said Anne wistfully, “I’d be able
10210to help you so much now and spare you in a hundred ways. I could find it
10211in my heart to wish I had been, just for that.”
10212
10213“Well now, I’d rather have you than a dozen boys, Anne,” said Matthew
10214patting her hand. “Just mind you that--rather than a dozen boys. Well
10215now, I guess it wasn’t a boy that took the Avery scholarship, was it? It
10216was a girl--my girl--my girl that I’m proud of.”
10217
10218He smiled his shy smile at her as he went into the yard. Anne took the
10219memory of it with her when she went to her room that night and sat for a
10220long while at her open window, thinking of the past and dreaming of the
10221future. Outside the Snow Queen was mistily white in the moonshine;
10222the frogs were singing in the marsh beyond Orchard Slope. Anne always
10223remembered the silvery, peaceful beauty and fragrant calm of that night.
10224It was the last night before sorrow touched her life; and no life is
10225ever quite the same again when once that cold, sanctifying touch has
10226been laid upon it.
10227
10228
10229
10230
10231CHAPTER XXXVII. The Reaper Whose Name Is Death
10232
10233
10234|MATTHEW--Matthew--what is the matter? Matthew, are you sick?”
10235
10236It was Marilla who spoke, alarm in every jerky word. Anne came through
10237the hall, her hands full of white narcissus,--it was long before Anne
10238could love the sight or odor of white narcissus again,--in time to hear
10239her and to see Matthew standing in the porch doorway, a folded paper
10240in his hand, and his face strangely drawn and gray. Anne dropped her
10241flowers and sprang across the kitchen to him at the same moment as
10242Marilla. They were both too late; before they could reach him Matthew
10243had fallen across the threshold.
10244
10245“He’s fainted,” gasped Marilla. “Anne, run for Martin--quick, quick!
10246He’s at the barn.”
10247
10248Martin, the hired man, who had just driven home from the post office,
10249started at once for the doctor, calling at Orchard Slope on his way to
10250send Mr. and Mrs. Barry over. Mrs. Lynde, who was there on an errand,
10251came too. They found Anne and Marilla distractedly trying to restore
10252Matthew to consciousness.
10253
10254Mrs. Lynde pushed them gently aside, tried his pulse, and then laid her
10255ear over his heart. She looked at their anxious faces sorrowfully and
10256the tears came into her eyes.
10257
10258“Oh, Marilla,” she said gravely. “I don’t think--we can do anything for
10259him.”
10260
10261“Mrs. Lynde, you don’t think--you can’t think Matthew is--is--” Anne
10262could not say the dreadful word; she turned sick and pallid.
10263
10264“Child, yes, I’m afraid of it. Look at his face. When you’ve seen that
10265look as often as I have you’ll know what it means.”
10266
10267Anne looked at the still face and there beheld the seal of the Great
10268Presence.
10269
10270When the doctor came he said that death had been instantaneous and
10271probably painless, caused in all likelihood by some sudden shock. The
10272secret of the shock was discovered to be in the paper Matthew had held
10273and which Martin had brought from the office that morning. It contained
10274an account of the failure of the Abbey Bank.
10275
10276The news spread quickly through Avonlea, and all day friends and
10277neighbors thronged Green Gables and came and went on errands of kindness
10278for the dead and living. For the first time shy, quiet Matthew Cuthbert
10279was a person of central importance; the white majesty of death had
10280fallen on him and set him apart as one crowned.
10281
10282When the calm night came softly down over Green Gables the old house was
10283hushed and tranquil. In the parlor lay Matthew Cuthbert in his coffin,
10284his long gray hair framing his placid face on which there was a little
10285kindly smile as if he but slept, dreaming pleasant dreams. There were
10286flowers about him--sweet old-fashioned flowers which his mother had
10287planted in the homestead garden in her bridal days and for which Matthew
10288had always had a secret, wordless love. Anne had gathered them and
10289brought them to him, her anguished, tearless eyes burning in her white
10290face. It was the last thing she could do for him.
10291
10292The Barrys and Mrs. Lynde stayed with them that night. Diana, going to
10293the east gable, where Anne was standing at her window, said gently:
10294
10295“Anne dear, would you like to have me sleep with you tonight?”
10296
10297“Thank you, Diana.” Anne looked earnestly into her friend’s face. “I
10298think you won’t misunderstand me when I say I want to be alone. I’m not
10299afraid. I haven’t been alone one minute since it happened--and I want to
10300be. I want to be quite silent and quiet and try to realize it. I can’t
10301realize it. Half the time it seems to me that Matthew can’t be dead; and
10302the other half it seems as if he must have been dead for a long time and
10303I’ve had this horrible dull ache ever since.”
10304
10305Diana did not quite understand. Marilla’s impassioned grief, breaking
10306all the bounds of natural reserve and lifelong habit in its stormy rush,
10307she could comprehend better than Anne’s tearless agony. But she went
10308away kindly, leaving Anne alone to keep her first vigil with sorrow.
10309
10310Anne hoped that the tears would come in solitude. It seemed to her a
10311terrible thing that she could not shed a tear for Matthew, whom she had
10312loved so much and who had been so kind to her, Matthew who had walked
10313with her last evening at sunset and was now lying in the dim room below
10314with that awful peace on his brow. But no tears came at first, even when
10315she knelt by her window in the darkness and prayed, looking up to the
10316stars beyond the hills--no tears, only the same horrible dull ache of
10317misery that kept on aching until she fell asleep, worn out with the
10318day’s pain and excitement.
10319
10320In the night she awakened, with the stillness and the darkness about
10321her, and the recollection of the day came over her like a wave of
10322sorrow. She could see Matthew’s face smiling at her as he had smiled
10323when they parted at the gate that last evening--she could hear his voice
10324saying, “My girl--my girl that I’m proud of.” Then the tears came and
10325Anne wept her heart out. Marilla heard her and crept in to comfort her.
10326
10327“There--there--don’t cry so, dearie. It can’t bring him back.
10328It--it--isn’t right to cry so. I knew that today, but I couldn’t help
10329it then. He’d always been such a good, kind brother to me--but God knows
10330best.”
10331
10332“Oh, just let me cry, Marilla,” sobbed Anne. “The tears don’t hurt me
10333like that ache did. Stay here for a little while with me and keep your
10334arm round me--so. I couldn’t have Diana stay, she’s good and kind and
10335sweet--but it’s not her sorrow--she’s outside of it and she couldn’t
10336come close enough to my heart to help me. It’s our sorrow--yours and
10337mine. Oh, Marilla, what will we do without him?”
10338
10339“We’ve got each other, Anne. I don’t know what I’d do if you weren’t
10340here--if you’d never come. Oh, Anne, I know I’ve been kind of strict and
10341harsh with you maybe--but you mustn’t think I didn’t love you as well as
10342Matthew did, for all that. I want to tell you now when I can. It’s never
10343been easy for me to say things out of my heart, but at times like this
10344it’s easier. I love you as dear as if you were my own flesh and blood
10345and you’ve been my joy and comfort ever since you came to Green Gables.”
10346
10347Two days afterwards they carried Matthew Cuthbert over his homestead
10348threshold and away from the fields he had tilled and the orchards he had
10349loved and the trees he had planted; and then Avonlea settled back to its
10350usual placidity and even at Green Gables affairs slipped into their old
10351groove and work was done and duties fulfilled with regularity as before,
10352although always with the aching sense of “loss in all familiar things.”
10353 Anne, new to grief, thought it almost sad that it could be so--that
10354they _could_ go on in the old way without Matthew. She felt something like
10355shame and remorse when she discovered that the sunrises behind the firs
10356and the pale pink buds opening in the garden gave her the old inrush of
10357gladness when she saw them--that Diana’s visits were pleasant to her
10358and that Diana’s merry words and ways moved her to laughter and
10359smiles--that, in brief, the beautiful world of blossom and love and
10360friendship had lost none of its power to please her fancy and thrill her
10361heart, that life still called to her with many insistent voices.
10362
10363“It seems like disloyalty to Matthew, somehow, to find pleasure in
10364these things now that he has gone,” she said wistfully to Mrs. Allan
10365one evening when they were together in the manse garden. “I miss him so
10366much--all the time--and yet, Mrs. Allan, the world and life seem very
10367beautiful and interesting to me for all. Today Diana said something
10368funny and I found myself laughing. I thought when it happened I could
10369never laugh again. And it somehow seems as if I oughtn’t to.”
10370
10371“When Matthew was here he liked to hear you laugh and he liked to know
10372that you found pleasure in the pleasant things around you,” said Mrs.
10373Allan gently. “He is just away now; and he likes to know it just the
10374same. I am sure we should not shut our hearts against the healing
10375influences that nature offers us. But I can understand your feeling.
10376I think we all experience the same thing. We resent the thought that
10377anything can please us when someone we love is no longer here to share
10378the pleasure with us, and we almost feel as if we were unfaithful to our
10379sorrow when we find our interest in life returning to us.”
10380
10381“I was down to the graveyard to plant a rosebush on Matthew’s grave
10382this afternoon,” said Anne dreamily. “I took a slip of the little white
10383Scotch rosebush his mother brought out from Scotland long ago; Matthew
10384always liked those roses the best--they were so small and sweet on
10385their thorny stems. It made me feel glad that I could plant it by his
10386grave--as if I were doing something that must please him in taking it
10387there to be near him. I hope he has roses like them in heaven. Perhaps
10388the souls of all those little white roses that he has loved so many
10389summers were all there to meet him. I must go home now. Marilla is all
10390alone and she gets lonely at twilight.”
10391
10392“She will be lonelier still, I fear, when you go away again to college,”
10393 said Mrs. Allan.
10394
10395Anne did not reply; she said good night and went slowly back to green
10396Gables. Marilla was sitting on the front door-steps and Anne sat down
10397beside her. The door was open behind them, held back by a big pink conch
10398shell with hints of sea sunsets in its smooth inner convolutions.
10399
10400Anne gathered some sprays of pale-yellow honeysuckle and put them in
10401her hair. She liked the delicious hint of fragrance, as some aerial
10402benediction, above her every time she moved.
10403
10404“Doctor Spencer was here while you were away,” Marilla said. “He says
10405that the specialist will be in town tomorrow and he insists that I must
10406go in and have my eyes examined. I suppose I’d better go and have it
10407over. I’ll be more than thankful if the man can give me the right kind
10408of glasses to suit my eyes. You won’t mind staying here alone while I’m
10409away, will you? Martin will have to drive me in and there’s ironing and
10410baking to do.”
10411
10412“I shall be all right. Diana will come over for company for me. I shall
10413attend to the ironing and baking beautifully--you needn’t fear that I’ll
10414starch the handkerchiefs or flavor the cake with liniment.”
10415
10416Marilla laughed.
10417
10418“What a girl you were for making mistakes in them days, Anne. You were
10419always getting into scrapes. I did use to think you were possessed. Do
10420you mind the time you dyed your hair?”
10421
10422“Yes, indeed. I shall never forget it,” smiled Anne, touching the heavy
10423braid of hair that was wound about her shapely head. “I laugh a little
10424now sometimes when I think what a worry my hair used to be to me--but I
10425don’t laugh _much_, because it was a very real trouble then. I did suffer
10426terribly over my hair and my freckles. My freckles are really gone; and
10427people are nice enough to tell me my hair is auburn now--all but Josie
10428Pye. She informed me yesterday that she really thought it was redder
10429than ever, or at least my black dress made it look redder, and she asked
10430me if people who had red hair ever got used to having it. Marilla, I’ve
10431almost decided to give up trying to like Josie Pye. I’ve made what I
10432would once have called a heroic effort to like her, but Josie Pye won’t
10433_be_ liked.”
10434
10435“Josie is a Pye,” said Marilla sharply, “so she can’t help being
10436disagreeable. I suppose people of that kind serve some useful purpose in
10437society, but I must say I don’t know what it is any more than I know the
10438use of thistles. Is Josie going to teach?”
10439
10440“No, she is going back to Queen’s next year. So are Moody Spurgeon and
10441Charlie Sloane. Jane and Ruby are going to teach and they have both got
10442schools--Jane at Newbridge and Ruby at some place up west.”
10443
10444“Gilbert Blythe is going to teach too, isn’t he?”
10445
10446“Yes”--briefly.
10447
10448“What a nice-looking fellow he is,” said Marilla absently. “I saw him in
10449church last Sunday and he seemed so tall and manly. He looks a lot like
10450his father did at the same age. John Blythe was a nice boy. We used to
10451be real good friends, he and I. People called him my beau.”
10452
10453Anne looked up with swift interest.
10454
10455“Oh, Marilla--and what happened?--why didn’t you--”
10456
10457“We had a quarrel. I wouldn’t forgive him when he asked me to. I meant
10458to, after awhile--but I was sulky and angry and I wanted to punish him
10459first. He never came back--the Blythes were all mighty independent. But
10460I always felt--rather sorry. I’ve always kind of wished I’d forgiven him
10461when I had the chance.”
10462
10463“So you’ve had a bit of romance in your life, too,” said Anne softly.
10464
10465“Yes, I suppose you might call it that. You wouldn’t think so to look at
10466me, would you? But you never can tell about people from their outsides.
10467Everybody has forgot about me and John. I’d forgotten myself. But it all
10468came back to me when I saw Gilbert last Sunday.”
10469
10470
10471
10472
10473
10474CHAPTER XXXVIII. The Bend in the road
10475
10476
10477|MARILLA went to town the next day and returned in the evening. Anne had
10478gone over to Orchard Slope with Diana and came back to find Marilla in
10479the kitchen, sitting by the table with her head leaning on her hand.
10480Something in her dejected attitude struck a chill to Anne’s heart. She
10481had never seen Marilla sit limply inert like that.
10482
10483“Are you very tired, Marilla?”
10484
10485“Yes--no--I don’t know,” said Marilla wearily, looking up. “I suppose I
10486am tired but I haven’t thought about it. It’s not that.”
10487
10488“Did you see the oculist? What did he say?” asked Anne anxiously.
10489
10490“Yes, I saw him. He examined my eyes. He says that if I give up all
10491reading and sewing entirely and any kind of work that strains the eyes,
10492and if I’m careful not to cry, and if I wear the glasses he’s given me
10493he thinks my eyes may not get any worse and my headaches will be cured.
10494But if I don’t he says I’ll certainly be stone-blind in six months.
10495Blind! Anne, just think of it!”
10496
10497For a minute Anne, after her first quick exclamation of dismay, was
10498silent. It seemed to her that she could _not_ speak. Then she said
10499bravely, but with a catch in her voice:
10500
10501“Marilla, _don’t_ think of it. You know he has given you hope. If you are
10502careful you won’t lose your sight altogether; and if his glasses cure
10503your headaches it will be a great thing.”
10504
10505“I don’t call it much hope,” said Marilla bitterly. “What am I to live
10506for if I can’t read or sew or do anything like that? I might as well
10507be blind--or dead. And as for crying, I can’t help that when I get
10508lonesome. But there, it’s no good talking about it. If you’ll get me
10509a cup of tea I’ll be thankful. I’m about done out. Don’t say anything
10510about this to any one for a spell yet, anyway. I can’t bear that folks
10511should come here to question and sympathize and talk about it.”
10512
10513When Marilla had eaten her lunch Anne persuaded her to go to bed. Then
10514Anne went herself to the east gable and sat down by her window in the
10515darkness alone with her tears and her heaviness of heart. How sadly
10516things had changed since she had sat there the night after coming home!
10517Then she had been full of hope and joy and the future had looked rosy
10518with promise. Anne felt as if she had lived years since then, but before
10519she went to bed there was a smile on her lips and peace in her heart.
10520She had looked her duty courageously in the face and found it a
10521friend--as duty ever is when we meet it frankly.
10522
10523One afternoon a few days later Marilla came slowly in from the front
10524yard where she had been talking to a caller--a man whom Anne knew by
10525sight as Sadler from Carmody. Anne wondered what he could have been
10526saying to bring that look to Marilla’s face.
10527
10528“What did Mr. Sadler want, Marilla?”
10529
10530Marilla sat down by the window and looked at Anne. There were tears in
10531her eyes in defiance of the oculist’s prohibition and her voice broke as
10532she said:
10533
10534“He heard that I was going to sell Green Gables and he wants to buy it.”
10535
10536“Buy it! Buy Green Gables?” Anne wondered if she had heard aright. “Oh,
10537Marilla, you don’t mean to sell Green Gables!”
10538
10539“Anne, I don’t know what else is to be done. I’ve thought it all over.
10540If my eyes were strong I could stay here and make out to look after
10541things and manage, with a good hired man. But as it is I can’t. I may
10542lose my sight altogether; and anyway I’ll not be fit to run things. Oh,
10543I never thought I’d live to see the day when I’d have to sell my home.
10544But things would only go behind worse and worse all the time, till
10545nobody would want to buy it. Every cent of our money went in that bank;
10546and there’s some notes Matthew gave last fall to pay. Mrs. Lynde advises
10547me to sell the farm and board somewhere--with her I suppose. It won’t
10548bring much--it’s small and the buildings are old. But it’ll be enough
10549for me to live on I reckon. I’m thankful you’re provided for with that
10550scholarship, Anne. I’m sorry you won’t have a home to come to in your
10551vacations, that’s all, but I suppose you’ll manage somehow.”
10552
10553Marilla broke down and wept bitterly.
10554
10555“You mustn’t sell Green Gables,” said Anne resolutely.
10556
10557“Oh, Anne, I wish I didn’t have to. But you can see for yourself. I
10558can’t stay here alone. I’d go crazy with trouble and loneliness. And my
10559sight would go--I know it would.”
10560
10561“You won’t have to stay here alone, Marilla. I’ll be with you. I’m not
10562going to Redmond.”
10563
10564“Not going to Redmond!” Marilla lifted her worn face from her hands and
10565looked at Anne. “Why, what do you mean?”
10566
10567“Just what I say. I’m not going to take the scholarship. I decided so
10568the night after you came home from town. You surely don’t think I could
10569leave you alone in your trouble, Marilla, after all you’ve done for me.
10570I’ve been thinking and planning. Let me tell you my plans. Mr. Barry
10571wants to rent the farm for next year. So you won’t have any bother over
10572that. And I’m going to teach. I’ve applied for the school here--but I
10573don’t expect to get it for I understand the trustees have promised it to
10574Gilbert Blythe. But I can have the Carmody school--Mr. Blair told me
10575so last night at the store. Of course that won’t be quite as nice or
10576convenient as if I had the Avonlea school. But I can board home and
10577drive myself over to Carmody and back, in the warm weather at least. And
10578even in winter I can come home Fridays. We’ll keep a horse for that. Oh,
10579I have it all planned out, Marilla. And I’ll read to you and keep you
10580cheered up. You sha’n’t be dull or lonesome. And we’ll be real cozy and
10581happy here together, you and I.”
10582
10583Marilla had listened like a woman in a dream.
10584
10585“Oh, Anne, I could get on real well if you were here, I know. But I
10586can’t let you sacrifice yourself so for me. It would be terrible.”
10587
10588“Nonsense!” Anne laughed merrily. “There is no sacrifice. Nothing could
10589be worse than giving up Green Gables--nothing could hurt me more. We
10590must keep the dear old place. My mind is quite made up, Marilla. I’m _not_
10591going to Redmond; and I _am_ going to stay here and teach. Don’t you worry
10592about me a bit.”
10593
10594“But your ambitions--and--”
10595
10596“I’m just as ambitious as ever. Only, I’ve changed the object of my
10597ambitions. I’m going to be a good teacher--and I’m going to save your
10598eyesight. Besides, I mean to study at home here and take a little
10599college course all by myself. Oh, I’ve dozens of plans, Marilla. I’ve
10600been thinking them out for a week. I shall give life here my best, and
10601I believe it will give its best to me in return. When I left Queen’s my
10602future seemed to stretch out before me like a straight road. I thought
10603I could see along it for many a milestone. Now there is a bend in it. I
10604don’t know what lies around the bend, but I’m going to believe that the
10605best does. It has a fascination of its own, that bend, Marilla. I wonder
10606how the road beyond it goes--what there is of green glory and
10607soft, checkered light and shadows--what new landscapes--what new
10608beauties--what curves and hills and valleys further on.”
10609
10610“I don’t feel as if I ought to let you give it up,” said Marilla,
10611referring to the scholarship.
10612
10613“But you can’t prevent me. I’m sixteen and a half, ‘obstinate as a
10614mule,’ as Mrs. Lynde once told me,” laughed Anne. “Oh, Marilla, don’t
10615you go pitying me. I don’t like to be pitied, and there is no need
10616for it. I’m heart glad over the very thought of staying at dear Green
10617Gables. Nobody could love it as you and I do--so we must keep it.”
10618
10619“You blessed girl!” said Marilla, yielding. “I feel as if you’d given me
10620new life. I guess I ought to stick out and make you go to college--but
10621I know I can’t, so I ain’t going to try. I’ll make it up to you though,
10622Anne.”
10623
10624When it became noised abroad in Avonlea that Anne Shirley had given up
10625the idea of going to college and intended to stay home and teach there
10626was a good deal of discussion over it. Most of the good folks, not
10627knowing about Marilla’s eyes, thought she was foolish. Mrs. Allan did
10628not. She told Anne so in approving words that brought tears of pleasure
10629to the girl’s eyes. Neither did good Mrs. Lynde. She came up one evening
10630and found Anne and Marilla sitting at the front door in the warm,
10631scented summer dusk. They liked to sit there when the twilight came down
10632and the white moths flew about in the garden and the odor of mint filled
10633the dewy air.
10634
10635Mrs. Rachel deposited her substantial person upon the stone bench by the
10636door, behind which grew a row of tall pink and yellow hollyhocks, with a
10637long breath of mingled weariness and relief.
10638
10639“I declare I’m getting glad to sit down. I’ve been on my feet all day,
10640and two hundred pounds is a good bit for two feet to carry round. It’s
10641a great blessing not to be fat, Marilla. I hope you appreciate it. Well,
10642Anne, I hear you’ve given up your notion of going to college. I was
10643real glad to hear it. You’ve got as much education now as a woman can be
10644comfortable with. I don’t believe in girls going to college with the men
10645and cramming their heads full of Latin and Greek and all that nonsense.”
10646
10647“But I’m going to study Latin and Greek just the same, Mrs. Lynde,” said
10648Anne laughing. “I’m going to take my Arts course right here at Green
10649Gables, and study everything that I would at college.”
10650
10651Mrs. Lynde lifted her hands in holy horror.
10652
10653“Anne Shirley, you’ll kill yourself.”
10654
10655“Not a bit of it. I shall thrive on it. Oh, I’m not going to overdo
10656things. As ‘Josiah Allen’s wife,’ says, I shall be ‘mejum’. But I’ll
10657have lots of spare time in the long winter evenings, and I’ve no
10658vocation for fancy work. I’m going to teach over at Carmody, you know.”
10659
10660“I don’t know it. I guess you’re going to teach right here in Avonlea.
10661The trustees have decided to give you the school.”
10662
10663“Mrs. Lynde!” cried Anne, springing to her feet in her surprise. “Why, I
10664thought they had promised it to Gilbert Blythe!”
10665
10666“So they did. But as soon as Gilbert heard that you had applied for it
10667he went to them--they had a business meeting at the school last night,
10668you know--and told them that he withdrew his application, and suggested
10669that they accept yours. He said he was going to teach at White Sands. Of
10670course he knew how much you wanted to stay with Marilla, and I must
10671say I think it was real kind and thoughtful in him, that’s what. Real
10672self-sacrificing, too, for he’ll have his board to pay at White Sands,
10673and everybody knows he’s got to earn his own way through college. So the
10674trustees decided to take you. I was tickled to death when Thomas came
10675home and told me.”
10676
10677“I don’t feel that I ought to take it,” murmured Anne. “I mean--I don’t
10678think I ought to let Gilbert make such a sacrifice for--for me.”
10679
10680“I guess you can’t prevent him now. He’s signed papers with the White
10681Sands trustees. So it wouldn’t do him any good now if you were to
10682refuse. Of course you’ll take the school. You’ll get along all right,
10683now that there are no Pyes going. Josie was the last of them, and a
10684good thing she was, that’s what. There’s been some Pye or other going to
10685Avonlea school for the last twenty years, and I guess their mission in
10686life was to keep school teachers reminded that earth isn’t their home.
10687Bless my heart! What does all that winking and blinking at the Barry
10688gable mean?”
10689
10690“Diana is signaling for me to go over,” laughed Anne. “You know we keep
10691up the old custom. Excuse me while I run over and see what she wants.”
10692
10693Anne ran down the clover slope like a deer, and disappeared in the firry
10694shadows of the Haunted Wood. Mrs. Lynde looked after her indulgently.
10695
10696“There’s a good deal of the child about her yet in some ways.”
10697
10698“There’s a good deal more of the woman about her in others,” retorted
10699Marilla, with a momentary return of her old crispness.
10700
10701But crispness was no longer Marilla’s distinguishing characteristic. As
10702Mrs. Lynde told her Thomas that night.
10703
10704“Marilla Cuthbert has got _mellow_. That’s what.”
10705
10706Anne went to the little Avonlea graveyard the next evening to put fresh
10707flowers on Matthew’s grave and water the Scotch rosebush. She lingered
10708there until dusk, liking the peace and calm of the little place,
10709with its poplars whose rustle was like low, friendly speech, and its
10710whispering grasses growing at will among the graves. When she finally
10711left it and walked down the long hill that sloped to the Lake of Shining
10712Waters it was past sunset and all Avonlea lay before her in a dreamlike
10713afterlight--“a haunt of ancient peace.” There was a freshness in the
10714air as of a wind that had blown over honey-sweet fields of clover. Home
10715lights twinkled out here and there among the homestead trees. Beyond lay
10716the sea, misty and purple, with its haunting, unceasing murmur. The west
10717was a glory of soft mingled hues, and the pond reflected them all in
10718still softer shadings. The beauty of it all thrilled Anne’s heart, and
10719she gratefully opened the gates of her soul to it.
10720
10721“Dear old world,” she murmured, “you are very lovely, and I am glad to
10722be alive in you.”
10723
10724Halfway down the hill a tall lad came whistling out of a gate before the
10725Blythe homestead. It was Gilbert, and the whistle died on his lips as he
10726recognized Anne. He lifted his cap courteously, but he would have passed
10727on in silence, if Anne had not stopped and held out her hand.
10728
10729“Gilbert,” she said, with scarlet cheeks, “I want to thank you for
10730giving up the school for me. It was very good of you--and I want you to
10731know that I appreciate it.”
10732
10733Gilbert took the offered hand eagerly.
10734
10735“It wasn’t particularly good of me at all, Anne. I was pleased to be
10736able to do you some small service. Are we going to be friends after
10737this? Have you really forgiven me my old fault?”
10738
10739Anne laughed and tried unsuccessfully to withdraw her hand.
10740
10741“I forgave you that day by the pond landing, although I didn’t know
10742it. What a stubborn little goose I was. I’ve been--I may as well make a
10743complete confession--I’ve been sorry ever since.”
10744
10745“We are going to be the best of friends,” said Gilbert, jubilantly. “We
10746were born to be good friends, Anne. You’ve thwarted destiny enough. I
10747know we can help each other in many ways. You are going to keep up your
10748studies, aren’t you? So am I. Come, I’m going to walk home with you.”
10749
10750Marilla looked curiously at Anne when the latter entered the kitchen.
10751
10752“Who was that came up the lane with you, Anne?”
10753
10754“Gilbert Blythe,” answered Anne, vexed to find herself blushing. “I met
10755him on Barry’s hill.”
10756
10757“I didn’t think you and Gilbert Blythe were such good friends that you’d
10758stand for half an hour at the gate talking to him,” said Marilla with a
10759dry smile.
10760
10761“We haven’t been--we’ve been good enemies. But we have decided that it
10762will be much more sensible to be good friends in the future. Were we
10763really there half an hour? It seemed just a few minutes. But, you see,
10764we have five years’ lost conversations to catch up with, Marilla.”
10765
10766Anne sat long at her window that night companioned by a glad content.
10767The wind purred softly in the cherry boughs, and the mint breaths came
10768up to her. The stars twinkled over the pointed firs in the hollow and
10769Diana’s light gleamed through the old gap.
10770
10771Anne’s horizons had closed in since the night she had sat there after
10772coming home from Queen’s; but if the path set before her feet was to be
10773narrow she knew that flowers of quiet happiness would bloom along it.
10774The joy of sincere work and worthy aspiration and congenial friendship
10775were to be hers; nothing could rob her of her birthright of fancy or her
10776ideal world of dreams. And there was always the bend in the road!
10777
10778“‘God’s in his heaven, all’s right with the world,’” whispered Anne
10779softly.