Anne Of Green Gables 2 | 9.5+ Hours Sleep | Complete, Part 2

Please enjoy this complete reading of the classic, much-beloved tale of 'Anne of Green Gables', about an 11-year-old orphan girl sent by mistake to the "wrong" household to live, and all of her adventures that unfold from there.

This is a long-form track for sleep, covering Chapters 20-38, the second half of the book (38 Chapters total) and providing more than 9.5 hours of continuous sleep story support.

'Anne of Green Gables' is a 1908 novel from Canadian author Lucy Maud Montgomery and was her most famous book, now considered a classic of children's literature! Please note: As this track is designed for sleep, please do not listen while driving or operating heavy machinery.

Transcript

Chapter 20. A good imagination gone wrong. Spring had come once more to Green Gables, The beautiful, Capricious, Reluctant Canadian spring, Lingering along through April and May in a succession of sweet, Fresh, Chilly days, With pink sunsets and miracles of resurrection and growth. It's true. The maples in Lover's Lane were red-budded, And little curly ferns pushed up around the Dryad's Bubble. Away up in the Barrens, Behind Mr Silas Sloane's place, The Mayflowers blossomed out, Pink and white stars of sweetness under their brown leaves. All the schoolgirls and boys had one golden afternoon gathering them, Coming home in the clear, Echoing twilight with arms and baskets full of flowery spoil. I'm so sorry for people who live in lands where there are no May flowers, Said Anne. Diana says, Perhaps they have something better? Couldn't be anything better than Mayflowers, Could there, Marilla? And Diana says if they don't know what they are like, They don't miss them. But I think that is the saddest thing of all. I think it would be tragic, Marilla, Not to know what Mayflowers are like, And not to miss them. Do you know what I think Mayflowers are, Marilla? I think they must be the souls of the flowers that died last summer and this is their heaven. But we had a splendid time today, Marilla. We had our lunch down in a big mossy hollow by an old well. Such a romantic spot. Charlie Sloane dared Artie Gillis to jump over it. And Artie did! Because he wouldn't take a dare. Nobody would in school. It is very fashionable to dare. Mr Phillips gave all the Mayflowers he found to Prissy Andrews, And I heard him to say, Sweets to the sweet. He got that out of a book, I know, But it shows he has some imagination. I was offered some Mayflowers too, But. . . I rejected them with scorn. I can't tell you the person's name because I have vowed never to let it cross my lips. We made wreaths of the Mayflowers and put them on our hats. And when the time came to go home, We marched in procession down the road, Two by two, With our bouquets and wreaths, Singing My Home on the Hill. Oh, It was so thrilling, Marilla. All Mr Silas Sloan's folks rushed out to see us and everybody we met on the road stopped and stared after us. We made a real sensation. Not much wonder. Such silly doings. Was Marilla's response. After the Mayflowers came the Violets, And Violet Veil was imperpled with them. Anne walked through it on her way to school with reverent steps and worshipping eyes as if she trod on holy ground. Somehow, She told Diana, When I'm going through here, I don't really care whether Gil. . . Whether anybody gets ahead of me in class or not. But when I'm up in school, It's all different and I care as much as ever. There's such a lot of different Annes in me. I sometimes think that is why I'm such a. . . Troublesome person. If I was just the one Anne, It would be ever so much more comfortable. But then it wouldn't be half so interesting. One June evening, When the orchards were pink-blossomed again, When the frogs were singing silvery sweet in the marshes about the head of the lake of shining waters, And the air was full of the savour of clover fields and balsamic firwoods, Anne was sitting by her gable window. She had been studying her lessons, But it had grown too dark to see the book, So she had fallen into wide-eyed reverie, Looking out past the boughs of the Snow Queen, Once more bestarred with its tufts of blossom. In all essential respects, The little gable chamber was unchanged. The walls were as white, The pincushion as hard, The chairs as stiffly and yellowly upright as ever. Yet, The whole character of the room was altered. It was full of a new, Vital, Pulsing personality that seemed to pervade it and to be quite independent of schoolgirl books and dresses and ribbons and even of the cracked blue jug full of apple blossoms on the table. Table. It was as if all the dreams, Sleeping and waking, Of its vivid occupant had taken a visible, Although un-material form, And had tapestried the bare room with splendid, Filmy tissues of rainbow and moonshine. Presently, Marilla came briskly in with some of Anne's freshly ironed school aprons. She hung them over a chair and sat down with a short sigh. She had had one of her headaches that afternoon, And although the pain had gone, She felt weak and tuckered out, As she expressed it. Anne looked at her with eyes limpid with sympathy. I do truly wish I could have had the headache in your place, Marilla. I would have endured it joyfully for your sake. I guess you did your part in attending to the work and letting me rest, " said Marilla. You seem to have got on fairly well and made fewer mistakes than usual. Of course, It wasn't exactly necessary to starch Matthew's handkerchiefs. And most people, When they put a pie in the oven to warm up for dinner, Take it out and eat it when it gets hot instead of leaving it to be burned to a crisp. But that doesn't seem to be your way, Evidently. Headaches always left Marilla somewhat sarcastic. Oh. I'm so sorry, Said Anne, Penitently. I never thought about that pie, From the moment I put it in the oven till now. Although I felt instinctively that there was something missing on the dinner table. I was firmly resolved when you left me in charge this morning not to imagine anything. But keep my thoughts on facts. I did pretty well until I put the pie in. And then an irresistible temptation came to me to imagine I was an enchanted princess shut up in a lonely tower with a handsome knight riding to my rescue on a cold black steed so That is how I came to. . . Forget the pie. I didn't know I starched the handkerchiefs. All the time I was ironing, I was trying to think of a name for a new island Diana and I have discovered up the brooks. It's the most ravishing spot, Marilla. There are two maple trees on it and the brook flows right around it. At last, It struck me that it would be splendid to call it Victoria Island because we found it on the Queen's birthday. Both Diana and I are very loyal. But I'm sorry about that pie. And the handkerchiefs. I wanted to be extra good today because it's an anniversary. Do you remember what happened this day last year, Marilla? No. I can't think of anything special. Marilla, It was the day I came to Green Gables. I shall never forget it. It was the turning point in my life. Of course, It wouldn't seem so important to you. I've been here for a year. And I've been so happy. Of course, I've had my troubles, But one can live down troubles. Are you? Sorry. You kept me, Marilla. No, I can't say I'm sorry, Said Marilla, Who sometimes wondered how she could have lived before Anne came to Green Gables. No. Not exactly sorry. If you've finished your lessons, Anne, I want you to run over and ask Mrs Barry if she'll lend me Diana's apron pattern. Oh, It's, It's too dark, Cried Anne. Too dark? Why, It's only twilight! And goodness knows you've gone over often enough after dark! I'll go over early in the morning, Said Anne eagerly. I'll get up at sunrise and go over, Marilla. What has got into your head now, Aunt Shirley? I want that pattern to cut out your new apron this evening. Go at once. And be smart too. I'll have to go around by the road then, Said Anne, Taking up her hat reluctantly. Go by the road. And waste half an hour? I'd like to catch you. I can't go through the haunted wood, Marilla. Cried Anne desperately. Marilla? Stared. The Haunted Wood? Are you crazy? What under the canopy is the haunted wood? The Spruce. Wood. Over the brook. Said Anne in a whisper. Fiddlesticks. There is no such thing as a haunted wood anywhere. Who has been telling you such stuff? Nobody, Confessed Anne. Diana and I just. . . Imagined. The word was haunted. All the places around here are so. . . So. . . Commonplace. We just got this up for our own amusement. We began it in April. A haunted wood. Is so very romantic, Marilla. We chose the spruce grove because it's so gloomy. Oh, We have imagined the most harrowing things. There's a white lady walks along the brook just about this time of the night and wrings her hands and utters wailing cries. She appears when there is to be a death in the family. And the ghost of a little murdered child haunts the corner up by Idyllwild. It creeps up behind you and lays its cold fingers on your hand so Ugh. Marilla, It gives me a shudder to think of it. And there's a headless man stalks up and down the path. And skeletons glower at you between the boughs. Oh Marilla. . . I wouldn't go through the haunted wood after dark now, For anything. I'd be sure that white things would reach out from behind the trees. And grab me. Did ever. Anyone here to like. Ejaculated marilla. Who had listened in dumb amazement. Anne Shirley. Do you mean to tell me you believe? All that wicked nonsense of your own imagination. Not believe exactly, " faltered Anne. At least, I don't believe it in daylight, But After dark, Marilla. It's different. That is when ghosts walk. There are no such things as ghosts, Anne. Oh! But there are, Marilla, Cried Anne eagerly. I know people who have seen them and they are respectable people. Charlie Sloane says that his grandmother saw his grandfather driving home the cows one night after he'd been buried for a year. You know Charlie Sloane's grandmother wouldn't tell a story for anything. She's a very religious woman. And Mrs Thomas's father was pursued home one night by a lamb of fire, With its head cut off, Hanging by a strip of skin. He said he knew it was the spirit of his brother. And that it was a warning he would die within nine days. He didn't, But he died two years after. So, You see, It was really true. And Ruby Gillis says Ann Shirley. Interrupted Marilla firmly. I never want to hear you talking in this fashion again. I've had my doubts about that imagination of yours right along, And if this is going to be the outcome of it, I won't countenance any such doings. You'll go right over to Barry's, And you'll go through that spruce grove, Just for a lesson. And a warning to you and never let me hear a word out of your head about haunted woods again. Anne might plead and cry as she liked, And did, For her terror was very real. Her imagination had run away with her, And she held the spruce grove in mortal dread after nightfall. But Marilla was inexorable. She marched the shrinking ghost seer down to the spring and ordered her to proceed. Straight away over the bridge and into the dusky retreats of wailing ladies and headless spectres beyond. Oh, Marilla, How can you be so cruel? Sobbed Anne. What would you feel like? If a white thing did snatch me up and carry me off. I'll risk it, " said Marilla unfeelingly. You know I always mean what I say. I'll cure you of imagining ghosts into places. March. Now. Anne marched. That is, She stumbled over the bridge and went shuddering up the horrible, Dim path beyond. Anne never forgot that walk. Bitterly, Did she repent the license she had given to her imagination. The goblins of her fancy lurked in every shadow about her, Reaching out their cold, Fleshless hands to grasp the terrified small girl who had called them into being. A white strip of birch bark blowing up from the hollow over the brown floor of the grove made her heart stand still. The long drawn wail of two old boughs rubbing against each other brought out the perspiration in beads on her forehead. The swoop in the darkness over her was as the wings of unearthly creatures. When she reached Mr. William Bell's field, She fled across it as if pursued by an army of white things and arrived at the Barry kitchen door so out of breath that she could hardly gasp out her request for the apron pattern. Diana was away so that she had no excuse to linger, The dreadful return journey had to be faced. Anne went back over it with shut eyes, Preferring to take the risk of dashing her brains out among the boughs to that of seeing a white thing. When she finally stumbled over the log bridge, She drew one long, Shivering breath of relief. Well, So nothing caught you, Said Marilla unsympathetically. Oh, Marilla, Chattered Anne, I'll be contented with common places after this. Chapter 21. A new departure in flavourings. Dear me, There is nothing but meetings and partings in this world, As Mrs. Lynde says, Remarked Anne plaintively, Putting her slate and books down on the kitchen table on the last day of June and wiping her red eyes with a very damp handkerchief. Wasn't it fortunate, Marilla, That I took an extra handkerchief to school today? I had a pre-sentiment that it would be needed. I never thought you were so fond of Mr Phillips that you'd require two handkerchiefs to dry your tears just because he was going away, " said Marilla. I don't think I was crying because I was really so very fond of him, Reflected Anne. I just cried because all the others did. It was Ruby Gillis started it. Ruby Gillis has always declared she hated Mr Phillips, But just as soon as he got up to make his farewell speech, She burst into tears. Then, All the girls began to cry, One after the other. I tried to hold out, Marilla. I tried to remember the time Mr Phillips made me sit with guilt. With a boy and the time he spelled my name without an E on the blackboard and how he said I was the worst dunce he ever saw at geometry and laughed at my spelling and All the times he had been so horrid and sarcastic. But somehow I couldn't, Marilla, And I just had to cry too. Jane Andrews has been talking for a month about how glad she'd be when Mr Phillips went away, And she declared she'd never shed a tear. Well, She was worse than any of us, And had to borrow a handkerchief from her brother. Of course the boys didn't cry, Because she hadn't brought one of her own, Not expecting to need it. Oh, Marilla, It was heart-rending. Mr Phillips made such a beautiful farewell speech, Beginning The time has come for us to part. It was very affecting. And he had tears in his eyes too, Marilla. Sigh I felt dreadfully sorry and remorseful for all the times I'd talked in school and drawn pictures of him on my slate and made fun of him and Prissy. I can tell you, I wished I'd been a model pupil like Minnie Andrews. She hadn't anything on her conscience. The girls cried all the way home from school. Carrie Sloan kept saying every few minutes, The time has come for us to part. And that would start us off again. Whenever we were in any danger of tearing up, I do feel dreadfully sad, Marilla. But one can't feel quite in the depths of despair with two months vacation before them, Can they, Marilla? And besides, We met the new minister and his wife coming from the station. For all I was feeling so bad about Mr Phillips going away, I couldn't help taking a little interest in a new minister, Could I? His wife is very pretty. Not exactly regally lovely, Of course. It wouldn't do, I suppose, For a minister to have a regally lovely wife because it might set a bad example. Mrs Linde says the minister's wife over at Newbridge sets a very bad example because she dresses so fashionably. Our new minister's wife was dressed in blue muslin with lovely puffed sleeves and a hat trimmed with roses. Jane Andrews said she thought puffed sleeves were too worldly for a minister's wife, But I didn't make any such uncharitable remark, Marilla, Because I know what it is to long for puffed sleeves. Besides, She's only been a minister's wife for a little while, So one should make allowances, Shouldn't they? They are going to board with Mrs Lind until the manse is ready. If Marilla, In going down to Mrs Lynn's that evening, Was actuated by any motive save her avowed one of returning the quilting frames she had borrowed the preceding winter, It was an amiable weakness, Shared by most of the Avonlea people. Many a thing Mrs. Lynde had lent, Sometimes never expecting to see it again, Came home that night in charge of the borrowers thereof. A new minister, And moreover, A minister with a wife was a lawful object of curiosity in a quiet little country settlement where sensations were few and far between. Old Mr Bentley, The minister whom Anne had found lacking in imagination, Had been pastor of Avonlea for 18 years. He was a widower when he came, And a widower he remained. Despite the fact that gossip regularly married him to this, That or the other one every year of his sojourn. In the preceding February, He had resigned his charge. And departed. Amid the regrets of his people, Most of whom had the affection born of long intercourse, For their good old minister in spite of his shortcomings as a narrator. Since then, The Avonlea church had enjoyed a variety of religious dissipation in listening to the many and various candidates and supplies who came Sunday after Sunday to preach on trial. These stood or fell by the judgment of the fathers and mothers in Israel, But a certain small red-haired girl who sat meekly in the corner of the old Cuthbert pew also had her opinions about them and discussed the same in full with Matthew. Marilla always declining from principle to criticise ministers in any shape or form. I don't think Mr Smith would have done, Matthew, Was Anne's final summing up. Mrs Linde says his delivery was so poor. But I think his worst fault was, Just like Mr Bentley's, He had no imagination. And Mr Terry had too much. He let it run away with him, Just as I did mine in the matter of the haunted word. Besides, Mrs Lind says his theology wasn't sound. Mr. Gresham was a very good man and a very religious man, But he told too many funny stories and made the people laugh in church. He was. . . Undignified. And you must have some dignity about a minister, Mustn't you Matthew? I thought Mr Marshall was decidedly attractive. But Mrs. Lynn says he isn't married or even engaged because she made special inquiries about him. And she says it would never do to have a young, Unmarried minister in Avonlea because he might marry in the congregation. And that would make trouble. Mrs. Lynde is a very far-seeing woman, Isn't she, Matthew? I'm very glad they've called Mr. Allen. I liked him because his sermon was interesting and he prayed as if he meant it and not just as if he did it because he was in the habit of it. Mrs. Lynde says he isn't perfect, But she says she supposes we couldn't expect a perfect minister for $750 a year. And anyhow, His theology is sound, Because she questioned him thoroughly, On all the points of doctrine. And she knows his wife's people and they are most respectable and the women are all good housekeepers. Mrs Lind says that sound doctrine in the man and good housekeeping in the woman make an ideal combination for a minister's family. The new minister and his wife were a young, Pleasant-faced couple still on their honeymoon and full of all good and beautiful enthusiasms for their chosen life work. Avonlea opened its heart to them from the start. Old and young liked the frank, Cheerful young man with his high ideals, And the bright, Gentle little lady who assumed the mistress-ship of the manse. With Mrs. Allan, Anne fell promptly and whole heartedly in love. She had discovered another kindred spirit. Mrs. Allen is perfectly lovely, " she announced one Sunday afternoon. She's taken our class and she's a splendid teacher. She said right away she didn't think it was fair for the teacher to ask all the questions. And you know, Marilla, That is exactly what I've always thought! She said we could ask her any question we liked. And I asked ever so many. I'm good at asking questions, Marilla. I believe you, Was Marilla's emphatic comment. Nobody else asked any. Except Ruby Gillis, And she asked if there was to be a Sunday school picnic this summer. I didn't think that was a very proper question to ask because it hadn't any connection with the lesson. The lesson was about Daniel in the lion's den, But Mrs. Allen just smiled and said she thought there would be. Mrs. Allen. Has a lovely smile. She has such exquisite dimples in her cheeks. I wish I had dimples in my cheeks, Morella. I'm not half so skinny as I was when I came here, But. . . I have no dimples yet. If I had, Perhaps I could influence people for good. Mrs Allen said we ought always to try to influence other people for good. She talked so nice about everything. I never knew before that religion was such a cheerful thing. I always thought it was. . . Kind of. Melancholy. But Mrs. Allens isn't. And I'd like to be a Christian if I could be one like her. I wouldn't want to be one like Mr. Superintendent Bell. It's very naughty of you to speak so about Mr. Bell, " said Marilla severely. Mr. Bell is a real good man. Oh, Of course he's good, Agreed Anne, But he doesn't seem to get any comfort out of it. If I could be good, I'd dance and sing all day because I was glad of it. I suppose Mrs Allen is too old to dance and sing, And of course it wouldn't be dignified in a minister's wife, But I can just feel she's glad she's a Christian and that she'd be one even if she could get to heaven without it. I suppose we must have Mr and Mrs Allen up to tea someday soon, " said Marilla reflectively. They've been most everywhere but here. Let me see. Next Wednesday would be a good time to have them, But don't say a word to Matthew about it, For if he knew they were coming, He'd find some excuse to be away that day. He'd got so used to Mr Bentley. He didn't mind him, But. . . He's going to find it hard to get acquainted with a new minister. And a new minister's wife will frighten him to death. I'll be as secret as the dead, " assured Anne. But oh, Marilla, Will you let me make a cake for the occasion? I'd love to do something for Mrs. Allan, And you know I can make a pretty good cake by this time. You can make a layer cake, Promised Marilla. Monday and Tuesday, Great preparations went on at Green Gables. Having the minister and his wife to tea was a serious and important undertaking. And Marilla was determined not to be eclipsed by any of the Avonlea housekeepers. Anne was wild with excitement and delight. She talked it all over with Diana Tuesday night in the twilight as they sat on the big red stones by the Dryads' Bubble and made rainbows in the water with little twigs dipped in fir balsam. Everything is ready, Diana, Except my cake, Which I'm to make in the morning, And the baking powder biscuits, Which Marilla will make just before tea time. I assure you, Diana, That Marilla and I have had a busy two days of it. It's such a responsibility, Having a minister's family to tea. I never went through such an experience before. You should just see our pantry. It's a sight to behold. We're going to have jellied chicken and cold tongue. We're to have two kinds of jelly, Red and yellow, And whipped cream and lemon pie. And cherry pie, And three kinds of cookies, And fruitcake, And Marilla's famous yellow plum preserves that she keeps especially for ministers, And pound cake, And layer cake, And biscuits, As aforesaid, And new bread and old both. In case the minister is dyspeptic and can't eat new. Mrs Lin says ministers are dyspeptic but can't eat new. I don't think Mr. Allen has been a minister long enough for it to have had a bad effect on him. I just grow cold when I think of my layer cake. Oh, Diana, What if it shouldn't be good? I dreamed last night that I was chased all around by a fearful goblin. With a big layer cake. For a head. It'll be good, All right, " assured Diana, Who was a very comfortable sort of friend. I'm sure that piece of the one you made that we had for lunch in Idlewild two weeks ago was perfectly elegant. Yes, But. . . Cakes have such a terrible habit of turning out bad just when you especially want them to be good! " sighed Anne, Setting a particularly well-balsomed twig afloat. However. . . I suppose. I shall just have to trust to providence. And be careful to put in the flour. Oh look, Diana! What a lovely rainbow! Do you suppose the dryad will come out after we go away and take it for a scarf? You know there is no such thing as a dryad, " said Diana. Diana's mother had found out about the haunted wood. And had been decidedly angry over it. As a result, Diana had abstained from any further imitative flights of imagination and did not think it prudent to cultivate a spirit of belief even in harmless dryads. But it's so easy to imagine there is, Said Anne. Every night before I go to bed, I look out of my window and wonder if the triad is really sitting here, Combing her locks with the spring for a mirror. Sometimes I look for her footprints in the dew in the morning. Oh Diana, Don't give up your faith in the Dryad. Wednesday morning came. Anne got up at sunrise because she was too excited to sleep. She had caught a severe cold in the head by reason of her dabbling in the spring on the preceding evening. But nothing short of absolute pneumonia could have quenched her interest in culinary matters that morning. After breakfast, She proceeded to make her cake. When she finally shut the oven door upon it, She drew a long breath. I'm sure I haven't forgotten anything this time, Marilla. Do you think it will rise? Just suppose the. . . Baking powder isn't good. I used it out of the new can. And Mrs Lin says you can never be sure of getting good baking powder nowadays when everything is so adulterated. Mrs Lin says the government ought to take the matter up but she says we'll never see the day when a Tory government will do it. Marilla. . . What if that cake doesn't rise? We'll have plenty without it, Was Marilla's unimpassioned way of looking at the subject. The cake did rise, However, And came out of the oven as light and feathery as golden foam. Anne, Flushed with delight, Clapped it together with layers of ruby jelly and, In imagination, Saw Mrs. Allen eating it and possibly asking for more. Another piece. You'll be using the best tea set, Of course, Marilla, " she said. Can I fix the table with ferns and wild roses? I think that's all nonsense, Sniffed Marilla. In my opinion, It's the eatables that matter, And not flummery decorations. Mrs. Barry had her table decorated, Said Anne, Who was not entirely guiltless of the wisdom of the serpent. And the minister paid her an elegant compliment. He said it was a feast for the eye as well as the palate. Well, Do as you like, Said Marilla, Who was quite determined not to be surpassed by Mrs Barry or anybody else. Only mind you leave enough room for the dishes and the food. Anne laid herself out to decorate in a manner and after a fashion that should leave Mrs Barry's nowhere. Having abundance of roses and ferns and a very artistic taste of her own, She made that tea table such a thing of beauty. That when the minister and his wife sat down to it, They exclaimed in chorus over its loveliness. It's Anne's doings, Said Marilla grimly just. And Anne felt that Mrs. Allen's approving smile was almost too much happiness for this world. Matthew was there. Having been inveigled into the party, Only Goodness and Anne knew how. He had been in such a state of shyness and nervousness that Marilla had given him up in despair, But Anne took him in hand so successfully that he now sat at the table in his best clothes and white collar and talked to the minister. Not uninterestingly. He never said a word to Mrs. Allen, But that perhaps was not to be expected. All went merry as a marriage bell, Until. . . Anne's layer cake was passed. Mrs. Allen, Having already been helped to a bewildering variety, Declined it. But Marilla, Seeing the disappointment on Anne's face, Said, Smilingly, Oh! You must take a piece of this, Mrs. Allen. Anne made it on purpose for you. In that case, I must sample it, " laughed Mrs. Allen, Helping herself to a plump triangle, As did also the minister and Marilla. Mrs. Allen took a mouthful of hers and. . . A most peculiar expression crossed her face. Not a word did she say, However. But steadily ate away at it. Marilla saw the expression and hastened to taste the cake. Anne! Shirley! " she exclaimed. What? Earth did you put into that cake? Nothing but what the recipe said, Marilla. Cried Anne with a look of anguish. Oh! Isn't it alright? Right? Horrible. Mr. Allen, Don't try to eat it. Anne, Taste it yourself. What? What flavouring did you use? Vanilla, Said Anne, Her face scarlet with mortification, After tasting the cake. Oh, Nee! Vanilla! Oh, Marilla. It must have been the baking powder. I had my suspicions of that big baking powder fiddlesticks. Go and bring me the bottle of vanilla you used. Anne fled to the pantry and returned with a small bottle partially filled with a brown liquid and labelled, Yellowly, Best Vanilla. Marilla took it, Uncorked it, Smelled it, Mercy on us, Anne. You've flavoured that cake with anodyne liniment. I broke the liniment bottle last week and poured what was left into an old, Empty vanilla bottle. I suppose it's partly my fault. I should have warned you, But for pity's sake! Why couldn't you have smelled it? Anne dissolved into tears under this double disgrace. Couldn't. I had. Such a cold! And with this, She fairly fled to the gable chamber, Where she cast herself on the bed and wept as one who refuses to be comforted. Presently, A light step sounded on the stairs, And somebody entered the room. Oh, Marilla. Sobbed Anne without looking up. I'm disgraced forever. I shall never be able to live this town. It will get out. Things always do get out in Avonlea. Diana will ask me how my cake turned out and I shall have to tell her the truth. I shall always be pointed at as the girl who flavoured a cake with anodyne liniment. The boys in school will never get over laughing at it. Oh, Marilla. If you have a spark of Christian pity, Don't tell me that I must go down and wash the dishes after this. I'll wash them when the minister and his wife are gone. I cannot ever look Mrs. Allen. In the face again. Perhaps you'll think I tried. Poison her. Mrs Lind says she knows an orphan girl who tried to poison her benefactor. But the liniment isn't. Poisonous. It's meant to be taken internally, Although not in cakes. Won't you tell Mrs. Allen so, Marilla? Suppose you jump up and tell her so yourself, " said a merry voice. Anne flew up to find Mrs. Allen standing by her bed surveying her with laughing eyes. My dear little girl, You mustn't cry like this, " she said. Genuinely disturbed by Anne's tragic face. Why it's all just a funny mistake. That anybody might make. Oh, No, It takes me to make such a mistake, Said Anne forlornly. And I wanted to have that cake so nice for you, Mrs. Allen. Yes, I know, Dear, And I assure you I appreciate your kindness and thoughtfulness just as much as if it had turned out all right. Now, You mustn't cry anymore, But come down with me and show me your flower garden. Miss Cuthbert tells me you have a little plot all your own. I want to see it, For I'm very much interested in flowers. Anne permitted herself to be led down and comforted, Reflecting that it was really providential that Mrs. Allen was a kindred spirit. Nothing more was said about the liniment cake. And when the guests went away, Anne found that she had enjoyed the evening more than could have been expected, Considering that terrible incident. Nevertheless, She sighed deeply. Marilla, Isn't it nice to think that tomorrow is a new day with no mistakes in it yet? I'll warrant you'll make plenty in it, " said Marilla. I never saw your beat for making mistakes, Anne. Yes, And well I know it, Admitted Anne mournfully, Have you ever noticed one encouraging thing about me, Marilla? I never make the same mistake twice. I don't know as that's much benefit when you're always making new ones. Oh, Don't you see, Marilla? There must be a limit. To the mistakes one person can make. And when I get to the end of them, Then I'll be through with them. That's a very comforting thought. Well, You'd better go and give that cake to the pigs, " said Marilla. It isn't fit for any human to eat, Not even Jerry Buolt. Chapter 22. Anne is invited out to tea. And what are your eyes popping out of your head about now? Asked Marilla when Anne had just come in from a run to the post office. Have you discovered another kindred spirit? Excitement hung around Anne like a garment shone in her eyes. In every feature. She had come dancing up the lane like a wind-blown sprite. Through the mellow sunshine and lazy shadows of the August evening. No, Marilla, But, Oh, What do you think? I am invited to tea at the Mance tomorrow afternoon. Mrs Allen left the letter for me at the post office. Just look at it, Mirella. Miss Anne Shirley Green Gables. That is the first time I was ever called Miss. Such a thrill! As it gave me. I shall cherish it forever. Among my choicest treasures. Mrs. Allen told me she meant to have all the members of her Sunday school class to tea in turn. Said Marilla, Regarding the wonderful event very coolly. You needn't get in such a fever over it. Do learn to take things calmly, Child. For Anne to take things calmly. Would have been to change her nature. All spirit and fire and dew as she was, The pleasures and pains of life came to her with trebled intensity. Marilla felt this. And was vaguely troubled over it. Realizing that the ups and downs of existence would probably bear hardly on this impulsive soul. And not sufficiently understanding that the equally great capacity for delight might more than compensate. Therefore, Marilla conceived it to be her duty to drill Anne. Into a tranquil uniformity of disposition. As impossible and alien to her as to a dancing sunbeam. In one of the brook shallows. She did not make much headway. As she sorrowfully admitted to herself. The downfall of some. Dear Hope or Plan, Plunged Anne into deeps of affliction. The fulfillment thereof exalted her to dizzy realms of delight. Marilla had almost begun to despair of ever fashioning this waif of the world into her model little girl of demure manners and prim deportment. Neither would she have believed that she really liked Anne much better as she was. Anne went to bed that night speechless. With misery. Because Matthew had said the wind was round North East and he feared it would be a rainy day tomorrow. The rustle of the poplar leaves around the house worried her. It sounded so like pattering raindrops, And the full, Far-away roar of the gulf, To which she listened delightedly at other times, Loving its strange, Sonorous, Haunting rhythm, Now seemed like a prophecy of some storm and disaster to a small maiden who particularly wanted a fine day. Anne thought that the morning would never come. But all things have an end. Even nights before the day on which you are invited to take tea at the manse. The morning, In spite of Matthew's predictions, Was fine, And Anne's spirits soared to their highest. Oh, Marilla, There is something in me today that makes me just love everybody I see. She exclaimed as she washed the breakfast dishes. You don't know how good I feel. Wouldn't it be nice if it could last? I believe I could be a model child if I were just invited out to tea every day. But, Oh, Marilla. It's a solemn occasion, Too. I feel so. . . Anxious. What if I. . . Shouldn't behave properly. I never had tea. At a manse before? And I'm not sure that I know all the rules of etiquette, Although I've been studying the rules given in the Etiquette Department of the Family Herald ever since I came here. I'm so afraid I'll do something silly. Forget to do something I should do. Would it be good manners to take a second helping of anything if you wanted to very much? The trouble with you, Anne, Is that you're thinking too much about yourself. You should just think of Mrs Allen and what would be nicest and most agreeable to her. Said Marilla, Hitting for once in her life on a very sound and pithy piece of advice. Anne instantly realised this. You are right, Marilla. I'll try not to think about myself at all. Anne evidently got through her visit without any serious breach of etiquette for she came home through the twilight under a great high sprung sky gloried over with trails of saffron and rosy cloud in a beatified state of mind and told Marilla all about it, Happily. Sitting on the big red sandstone slab at the kitchen door with her tired curly head in Marilla's gingham lap. A cool wind was blowing down over the long harvest fields, From the rims of furry western hills, And whistling through the poplars. One clear star hung over the orchard, And the fireflies were flitting over in lover's lane, In and out among the ferns and rustling boughs. I'll see you soon. Anne watched them as she talked and somehow felt that wind and stars and fireflies were all tangled up together into something unutterably sweet and enchanting. Oh, Marilla. I've had a most Fascinating time. I feel that I have not lived in vain. And I shall always feel like that. Even if I should never be invited to tea at a manse again. When I got there, Mrs Allen met me at the door. She was dressed in the sweetest dress of pale pink organdy with dozens of frills. And elbow sleeves and she looked just like a seraph. I really think I'd like to be a minister's wife when I grow up, Marilla. A minister mightn't mind my red hair, Because he wouldn't be thinking of such worldly things. But then, Of course, One would have to be naturally good. And I'll never be that, So I suppose there's no use in thinking about it. Some people are naturally good, You know. And others are not. I'm one of the others. Mrs. Lind says, I'm full of original sin. No matter how hard I try to be good, I can never make it. Such a success of it as those who are naturally good. It's a good deal like geometry, I expect. But don't you think that trying so hard ought to count for something? Mrs. Allen is one of the naturally good people. I love her passionately. You know, There are some people, Like Matthew and Mrs. Allen, That you can love right off, Without any trouble. And there are others, Like Mrs. Lind, That you have to try very hard to love. You know you OUGHT to love them, Because they know so much and are such active workers in the church, But You have to keep reminding yourself of it all the time or else you forget. There was another little girl at the manse to tea from the White Sands Sunday School. Her name was Loretta Bradley. And she was a very nice little girl. Not exactly a kindred spirit, You know, But still very nice. We had an elegant tea and I think I kept all the rules of etiquette pretty well. After tea, Mrs. Allen played and sang, And she got Loretta and me to sing too. Mrs. Allen says, I have a good voice. And she says, I must sing in the Sunday school choir after this. You can't think how I was thrilled at the mere thought. I've longed so to sing in the Sunday school choir, As Diana does, But I feared it was an honour I could never aspire to. Loretta says that the Americans at the hotel give a concert every fortnight in aid of the Charlottetown Hospital and they ask lots of the White Sands people to recite. Loretta said she expected to be asked herself someday. I just gazed at her in awe. After she had gone, Mrs. Allen and I had a heart-to-heart talk. I told her everything. About Mrs. Thomas, And the twins, And Katie Maurice, And Violetta, And coming to Green Gables. And my troubles over geometry. And would you believe it, Marilla, Mrs. Allen told me she was a dunce at geometry too! You don't know how that encouraged me. Mrs Lind came to the manse just before I left. And what do you think, Marilla? The trustees have hired a new teacher and It's a lady. Her name is Miss Muriel Stacy. Isn't that a romantic name? Mrs Lind says they've never had a female teacher in Avonlea before. And She thinks it is a dangerous innovation, But I think it will be splendid to have a lady teacher. And I really don't see how I'm going to live through the two weeks before school begins. I'm so impatient to see her. Chapter 23. Anne comes to grief in an affair of honour. Anne had to live through more than two weeks as it happened. Almost a month having elapsed since the liniment cake episode, It was high time for her to get into fresh trouble of some sort. Little mistakes, Such as absentmindedly emptying a pan of skim milk into a basket of yarn balls in the pantry instead of into the pig's bucket, And walking clean over the edge of the log bridge into the brook. While wrapped in imaginative reverie. Not really being worth counting. A week after the tea at the man's, Diana Barry gave a party. Small and select, Anne assured Marilla. Just the girls in our class. They had a very good time. And nothing untoward happened. Until… after tea. When they found themselves in the Barry Garden. A little tired of all their games and ripe for any enticing form of mischief which might present itself. This presently took the form of daring. Daring was the fashionable amusement among the Avonlea small fry just then. It had begun among the boys, But soon spread to the girls, And All the silly things that were done in Avonlea that summer, Because the doers thereof were dared to do them, Would fill a book by themselves. First of all, Carrie Sloane dared Ruby Gillis to climb to a certain point in the huge old willow tree before the front door, Which Ruby Gillis, Albeit in mortal dread of the fat green caterpillars with which said tree was infested, And with the fear of her mother before her eyes, If she should tear her new muslin dress. Nimbly did. To the discomfiture of the aforesaid Carrie Sloane. Then Josie Pye dared Jane Andrews to hop on her left leg around the garden without stopping once or putting her right foot to the ground, Which Jane Andrews gamely tried to do, But gave out at the third corner and had to confess herself defeated. Josie's triumph being rather more pronounced than good taste permitted, Anne Shirley dared her to walk along the top of the board fence which bounded the garden to the east. Now, To walk board fences. Requires more skill and steadiness of head and heel than one might suppose. Who has never tried it. But Josie Pie, If deficient in some qualities that make for popularity, Had at least a natural and inborn gift, Duly cultivated, For walking bored fences. Josie walked the Barry fence with an airy unconcern which seemed to imply that a little thing like that wasn't worth a dare. Reluctant admiration greeted her exploit. For most of the other girls could appreciate it. Having suffered many things themselves in their efforts to walk fences. Josie descended from her perch, Flushed with victory, And darted a defiant glance at Anne. Anne tossed her red braids. I don't think it's such a very wonderful thing to walk a little, Low, Bored fence, " she said. I knew a girl in Marysville who could walk the ridgepole of a roof I don't believe it, Said Josie flatly. I don't believe anybody could walk a ridgepole. You couldn't, Anyhow. Couldn't I, Cried Anne rashly. Then I dare you to do it, Said Josie defiantly. I dare you to climb up there and walk a ridgepole. The ridge pole of Mr Barry's kitchen roof. Anne turned pale. But there was clearly only one thing to be done. She walked toward the house. Where a ladder was leaning against the kitchen roof. All the fifth-class girls said, Partly in excitement, Partly in dismay. Don't you do it, Anne, " entreated Diana. You'll fall off and be killed. Never mind Josie Pie. It isn't fair to dare anybody to do anything so dangerous. I must do it. My honour is at stake, Said Anne solemnly. I shall walk that ridgepole, Diana. Or perish in the attempt. If I am killed, You are to have my pearl bead ring. Anne climbed the ladder. Amid breathless silence, Gained the ridgepole, Balanced herself uprightly on that precarious footing. And started to walk along it. Dizzily conscious that she was uncomfortably high up in the world. And that walking ridge poles was not a thing in which your imagination helped you out much. Nevertheless. She managed to take several steps before. . . The catastrophe came. Then she swayed, Lost her balance, Stumbled, Staggered, And fell, Sliding down over the sun-baked roof and crashing off it through the tangle of Virginia creeper beneath, All before the dismayed circle below could give a simultaneous terrified Shree. If Anne had tumbled off the roof on the side up which she had ascended, Diana would probably have fallen air to the pearl bead ring. Then and there. Fortunately, She fell on the other side. Where the roof extended down over the porch so nearly to the ground that a fall therefrom was a much less serious thing. Nevertheless, When Diana and the other girls had rushed frantically around the house, Except Ruby Gillis, Who remained as if rooted to the ground and went into hysterics, They found Anne lying lying all white and limp among the wreck and ruin of the Virginia Creeper. Ann! Are you killed? " shrieked Diana, Throwing herself on her knees beside her friend. Oh Anne, Dear Anne, Speak. Just one word to me and tell me if you're killed. To the immense relief of all the girls and especially of Josie Pye who, In spite of lack of imagination, Had been seized with horrible visions of a future branded as the girl who was the cause of Anne Shirley's early and tragic death. Anne sat dizzily up and answered uncertainly, No. Dayana. I am not killed, But I think I am rendered dead. Are unconscious. "'Where? ' sobbed Carrie Sloan. "'Oh, Where, Anne? ' Before Anne could answer, Mrs Barry appeared on the scene. At sight of her, Anne tried to scramble to her feet, But sank back again with a sharp little cry of pain. What's the matter? Where have you hurt yourself? Demanded Mrs Barry. My ankle gasped and oh Ayana, Please find your father and ask him to take me home. I know I can never walk there. And I'm sure I couldn't hop so far on one foot. When Jane couldn't even hop around the garden. Marilla was out in the orchard picking a pan full of summer apples when she saw Mr Barry coming over the log bridge and up the slope with Mrs Barry beside him and a whole procession of little girls trailing after him. In his arms, He carried Anne! Whose head lay limply against his shoulder. At that moment, Marilla had a revelation. In the sudden stab of fear that pierced her very heart, She realized what Anne had come to mean to her. She would have admitted that she liked Anne. Nay, That she was very fond of Anne. But now. . . She knew. As she hurried wildly down the slope, That Anne was dearer to her than anything else on earth. Mr. Barry, What has happened to her? " she gasped, More white and shaken than the self-contained sensible Marilla had been for many years. Anne herself answered, Lifting her head, Don't be very frightened, Marilla. I was walking the ridge pole and I fell off. I expect I have sprained my ankle, But Marilla, I might have broken my neck. Let us look on the bright side of things. I might have known you'd go and do something of the sort when I let you go to that party, " said Marilla, Sharp and shrewish in her very relief. Bring her in here, Mr Barry, And lay her on the sofa. Mercy me! The child has gone and fainted. It was quite true. Overcome by the pain of her injury, Anne had one more of her wishes granted to her. She had fainted, Dead away. Matthew, Hastily summoned from the harvest field, Was straightaway dispatched for the doctor, Who in due time came. To discover that The injury was more serious than they had supposed. Anne's ankle was broken. That night, When Marilla went up to the east gable, Where a white-faced girl was lying, A plaintive voice greeted her from the bed. Aren't you very sorry for me, Marilla? It was your own fault, Said Marilla, Twitching down the blind and lighting a lamp. And that is just why you should be sorry for me, " said Anne. Because the thought that it is all my own fault is what makes it so hard. If I could blame it on anybody, I would feel so much better. But what would you have done, Marilla, If you had been dared to walk a ridge pole? I'd have stayed on good firm ground and let them dare away. Such absurdity, Said Marilla. An side. But you have such strength of mind, Marilla. I haven't. I just felt that I couldn't bear Josie Pie's scorn. She would have crowed over me all my life. And I think. I have been punished so much that you needn't be very cross with me, Marilla. It's not a bit nice to faint after all. And the doctor. Hurt me dreadfully when he was setting my ankle. I won't be able to go around for six or seven weeks. And I'll miss the new lady teacher. She won't be new anymore by the time I am able to go to school. And guilt. Everybody will get ahead of me in class. Oh i am an afflicted mortal. But i'll try to bear it all bravely if only you won't be cross with me marilla. There, There, I'm not cross, Said Marilla. You're an unlucky child, There's no doubt about that, But as you say, You'll have the suffering of it. Here now, Try and eat some supper. Isn't it fortunate? I've got such an imagination, " said Anne. It will help me through splendidly, I expect. What do people who haven't any imagination do? When they break their bones, Do you suppose, Marilla? Anne had good reason to bless her imagination many a time and oft during the tedious seven weeks that followed. But she was not solely dependent on it. She had many visitors. And not a day passed without one or more of the schoolgirls dropping in to bring her flowers and books and tell her all the happenings in the juvenile world of Avonlea. Everybody has been so good and kind, Marilla, Sighed Anne happily, On the day when she could first limp across the floor. It isn't very pleasant to be laid up, But there is a bright side to it, Marilla. You find out how many friends you have. Why, Even Superintendent Bell came to see me! And he's really a very fine man. Not a kindred spirit, Of course, But still. I like him. And I'm awfully sorry I ever criticised his prayers. I believe now he really does mean them. Only he has got into the habit of saying them as if he didn't. He could get over that if he'd take a little trouble. I gave him a good broad hint. I told him how how hard I tried to make my own little private prayers interesting. He told me all about the time he broke his ankle when he was a boy. It does seem so strange to think of Superintendent Bell ever being a boy. Even my imagination has its limits. For I can't imagine that. When I try to imagine him as a boy, I see him with grey whiskers and spectacles just as he looks in Sunday school, Only small. Now it's so easy to imagine Mrs. Allen as a little girl. Mrs. Allen has been to see me 14 times. Isn't that something to be proud of, Marilla? When a minister's wife has so many claims on her time. She is such a cheerful person to have visit you too. She never tells you it's your own fault and she hopes you'll be a better girl on account of it. Mrs. Lynde always told me that when she came to see me. And she said it in a kind of way that made me feel she might hope I'd be a better girl, Didn't really believe I would. Even Josie Pie came to see me. I received her as politely as I could because I think she was sorry she dared me to walk a ridgepole. If I had been killed, She would have to carry a dark burden of remorse all her life. Diana has been a faithful friend. She's been over every day to cheer my lonely pillow. But oh, I shall be so glad when I can go to school, For I've heard such exciting things about the new teacher. The girls all think she is perfectly sweet. Diana says she has the loveliest, Fair, Curly hair. And such fascinating eyes. She dresses beautifully and her sleeve puffs are bigger than anybody else's in Avonlea. Every other Friday afternoon, She has recitations and everybody has to say a piece or take part in a dialogue. It's just glorious to think of it. Josie Pie says she hates it, But that is just because Josie has so little imagination. Diana and Ruby Gillis and Jane Andrews are preparing a dialogue called A Morning Visit for next Friday. And the Friday afternoons, They don't have recitations. Miss Stacy takes them all to the woods. For a field day! And they study ferns and flowers and birds? And they have physical culture exercises every morning and evening. Mrs Lind says she never heard of such goings-on. And it all comes of having a lady teacher, But I think It must be splendid. And I believe I shall find that Miss Stacy is a kindred spirit. There's one thing plain to be seen, Anne, Said Marilla, And that is that your fall off the Barry roof hasn't injured your tongue at all. Chapter 24 Miss Stacy and her pupils get up a concert. It was October again when Anne was ready to go back to school. A glorious October, All red and gold, With mellow mornings when the valleys were filled with delicate mists as if the spirit of autumn had poured them in for the sun to drain. Amethyst, Pearl, Silver, Rose, And smoke blue. The dews were so heavy that the fields glistened like cloth of silver. And there were such heaps of rustling leaves in the hollows of many-stemmed woods to run crisply through. The birch path was a canopy of yellow, And the ferns were sere and brown all along it. There was a tang in the very air that inspired the hearts of small maidens, Tripping, Unlike snails, Swiftly and willingly to school. And it was jolly to be back again at the little brown desk beside Diana, With Ruby Gillis nodding across the aisle and Carrie Sloan sending up notes and Julia Bell passing a chew of gum down from the back seat. And drew a long breath of happiness. As she sharpened her pencil and arranged her picture cards in her desk, Life was certainly very interesting. In the new teacher, She found another true and helpful friend. Miss Stacy was a bright, Sympathetic young woman with the happy gift of winning and holding the affections of her pupils and bringing out the best that was in them mentally and morally. Anne expanded like a flower under this wholesome influence. And carried home to the admiring Matthew and the critical Marilla glowing accounts of schoolwork and aims. I love Miss Stacy with my whole heart, Marilla. She is so ladylike and she has such a sweet voice. When she pronounces my name, I feel instinctively that she's spelling it with an E. We had recitations this afternoon. I just wish you could have been there to hear me recite Mary, Queen of Scots. I just put my whole soul into it. Ruby Gillis told me coming home that the way I said the line, Now for my father's arm, She said, My woman's heart farewell, Just made her blood run cold. Well now, You might recite it for me some of these days out in the barn, Suggested Matthew. Of course, I will, Said Anne meditatively, But I won't be able to do it so well. I know it won't be so exciting as it is when you have a whole school ghawlful before you, Hanging breathlessly on your words. I know, I won't be able to make your blood run cold. Mrs Linde says it made her blood run cold to see the boys climbing to the very tops of those big trees on Bell's Hill after crow's nests last Friday, Said Marilla. I wonder at Miss Stacey for encouraging it. But we wanted a crow's nest for nature study, Explained Anne. That was on our field afternoon. Those afternoons are splendid, Marilla. And Miss Stacy explains everything so beautifully. We have to write compositions on our field afternoons and I write the best ones. It's very vain of you to say so, Then. You'd better let your teacher say it. But she did say it, Marilla. And indeed, I'm not vain about it. How can I be when I'm such a. . . Dunce at geometry. Although. . . I'm really beginning to see through it a little too. Miss Stacy makes it so clear. Still, I'll never be good at it, And I assure you it is a humbling reflection. But I love writing compositions. Mostly, Miss Stacy lets us choose our own subjects, But next week we are to write a composition on some remarkable person. It's hard to choose among so many. Remarkable people who have lived. Mustn't it be splendid to be remarkable and have compositions written about you after you're dead? Sigh. I would dearly love to be remarkable. I think when I grow up, I'll be a trained nurse and go with the Red Crosses to the field of battle as a messenger of mercy. That is, If I don't go out as a foreign missionary. That would be very romantic. But one would have to be very good to be a missionary and That would be a stumbling block. We have physical culture exercises every day too. They make you graceful and promote digestion. Promote fiddlesticks, Said Marilla, Who honestly thought it was all nonsense. But all the field afternoons and recitation Fridays and physical culture contortions paled before a project which Miss Stacy brought forward in November. This was that the scholars of Avonlea School should get up a concert and hold it in the hall. On Christmas night for the laudable purpose of helping to pay for a schoolhouse flag. The pupils, One and all, Taking graciously to this plan, The preparations for a programme were begun at once. And of all the excited performers-elect, None was so excited as Anne Shirley, Who threw herself into the undertaking, Heart and and soul. Hampered as she was by Marilla's disapproval. Marilla thought it all rank foolishness. It's just filling your heads up with nonsense and taking time that ought to be put on your lessons, She grumbled. I don't approve of children's getting up concerts and racing about to practices. It makes them vain. And forward, And fond of gadding. Think of the worthy object, Pleaded Anne. A flag will cultivate a spirit of patriotism, Marilla. Fudge. There's precious little patriotism in the thoughts of any of you. All you want is a good time. Well… When you can combine patriotism and fun, Isn't it all right? Of course, It's real nice to be getting up a concert. We're going to have six choruses and Diana is to sing a solo. I'm in two dialogues, The society for the suppression of gossip and the fairy queen. The boys are going to have a dialogue too. And I'm to have two recitations, Marilla. I just tremble when I think of it. But it's a nice, Thrilly kind of tremble. And we're to have a tableau at the last. Faith, Hope and charity. Diana and Ruby and I are to be in it All draped in white, With flowing hair. I'm to be hope, With my hands clasped so, And my eyes uplifted so. I'm going to practice my recitations in the garret. Don't be alarmed if you hear me groaning. I have to groan heartrendingly in one of them. And it's really hard to get up a good artistic groan, Marilla. Josie Pye is sulky because she didn't get the part she wanted in the dialogue. She wanted to be the Fairy Queen. That would have been ridiculous. For who ever heard of a Fairy Queen as fat as Josie? Fairy Queens must be slender. Jane Andrews is to be the Queen and I am to be one of her maids of honour. Josie says she thinks a red-haired fairy is just as ridiculous as a fat one but. . . I do not let myself mind what Josie says. I'm to have a wreath of white roses on my hair. And Ruby Gillis is going to lend me her slippers because I haven't got any of my own. It's necessary for fairies to have slippers, You know. You couldn't imagine a fairy wearing boots, Could you? Especially with copper toes. We're going to decorate the hall with creeping spruce and firm mottos with pink tissue paper roses in them. And we are all to march in, Two by two, After the audience is seated, While Emma White plays a march on the organ. Oh, Marilla. I know you are not so enthusiastic about it as I am, But Don't you hope your little Anne will distinguish herself? All I hope is that you'll behave yourself. I'll be heartily glad when all this fuss is over and you'll be able to settle down. You are simply good for nothing just now, With your head stuffed full of dialogues and groans and tableaus. As for your tongue, It's a marvel it's not clean worn out. And side. And betook herself to the backyard over which a young new moon was shining. Through the leafless poplar boughs from an apple-green western sky, And where Matthew was splitting wood. Anne perched herself on a block and talked the concert over with him, Sure of an appreciative and sympathetic listener, In this instance at least. Well now. . . I reckon it's going to be a pretty good concert. And I expect you'll do your part fine, " he said, Smiling down into her eager, Vivacious little face. Anne smiled back at him. Those two were the best of friends, And Matthew thanked his stars many a time and oft that he had nothing to do with bringing her up. That was Marilla's exclusive duty. If it had been his, He would have been worried over frequent conflicts between inclination and said duty. As it was, He was free to spoil Marilla Anne, Marilla's phrasing, As much as he liked. But it was not such a bad arrangement after all. A little appreciation sometimes does quite as much good as all the conscientious bringing up in the world. Chapter 25. Matthew insists on puffed sleeves. Matthew was having a bad ten minutes of it. He had come into the kitchen in the twilight of a cold grey December evening and had sat down in the woodbox corner to take off his heavy boots, Unconscious of the fact that Anne and a bevy of her schoolmates were having a practice of the fairy queen in the sitting room. Presently, They came trooping through the hall and out into the kitchen, Laughing and chattering gaily. They did not see Matthew, Who shrank bashfully back into the shadows beyond the wood box, With a boot in one hand and a boot jack in the other, And he watched them shyly for the aforesaid ten minutes. As they put on caps, And jackets and talked about the dialogue and the concert. Anne stood among them, Bright-eyed and animated as they, But Matthew suddenly became conscious that there was something about her different from her mates. And what worried Matthew was that the difference impressed him as being something that should not exist. Anne had a brighter face and bigger, Starrier eyes and more delicate features than the other. Even shy, Unobservant Matthew had learned to take note of these things, But The difference that disturbed him did not consist in any of these respects. Then, In what did it consist? Matthew was haunted by this question long after the girls had gone arm in arm down the long, Hard, Frozen lane and Anne had betaken herself to her books. He could not refer it to Marilla, Who he felt would be quite sure to sniff scornfully and remark that the only difference she saw between Anne and the other girls was that they sometimes kept their tongues quiet while Anne never did. This, Matthew felt, Would be no great help. He had recourse to his pipe that evening to help him study it out. Much to Marilla's disgust. After two hours of smoking and hard reflection, Matthew arrived at a solution of his problem. Anne was not dressed like the other girls. The more Matthew thought about the matter, The more he was convinced that Anne never had been dressed like the other girls, Never since she had come to Green Gables. Marilla! Kept her clothed in plain, Dark dresses. All made after the same unvarying pattern. If Matthew knew there was such a thing as fashion in dress, It was as much as he did, But he was quite sure that Anne's sleeves did not look at all like the sleeves the other girls wore. He recalled the cluster of little girls he had seen around her that evening, All gay in waists of red and blue and pink and white. And he wondered why Marilla always kept her so plainly and soberly gowned. Of course, It must be alright. Marilla knew best and Marilla was bringing her up. Probably some wise, Inscrutable motive was to be served, Thereby But surely it would do no harm to let the child have one pretty dress? Something like Diana Barry always wore? Matthew decided that he would give her one. That surely could not be objected to as an unwarranted putting in of his oar. Christmas was only a fortnight off. A nice new dress would be the very thing for a present. Matthew, With a sigh of satisfaction, Put away his pipe and went to bed while Marilla opened all the doors and aired the house. The very next evening, Matthew betook himself to Carmody to buy the dress, Determined to get the worst over and have done with it. It would be, He felt assured, No trifling ordeal. There were some things Matthew could buy and prove himself no mean bargainer, But He knew. He would be at the mercy of shopkeepers when it came to buying a girl's dress. After much cogitation, Matthew resolved to go to Samuel Lawson's store instead of William Blair's. To be sure, The Cuthberts always had gone to William Blair's. It was almost as much a matter of conscience with them as to attend the Presbyterian church and vote Conservative. But William Blair's two daughters frequently waited on customers there, And Matthew held them in. In absolute dread. He could contrive to deal with them when he knew exactly what he wanted and could point it out. But in such a matter as this, Requiring explanation and consultation. Matthew felt that he must be sure of a man behind the counter. So. He would go to Lawson's, Where Samuel or his son would wait on him. Alas, Matthew did not know that Samuel in the recent expansion of his business had set up a lady clerk also. She was a niece of his wife's, And a very dashing young person indeed, With a huge drooping pompadour, Big rolling brown eyes, And a most extensive and bewildering smile. She was dressed with exceeding smartness, And wore several bangle bracelets that glittered and rattled and tinkled with every movement of her hands. Matthew was covered with confusion at finding her there at all, And those Bangles? Completely wrecked his wits at one fell swoop. What can I do for you this evening, Mr. Cuthbert? Miss Lucilla Harris inquired briskly and ingratiatingly, Tapping the counter with both hands. Have you any. . . Any. . . Any. . . Well now, Say, Any. . . Garden rakes, " stammered Matthew. Miss Harris looked somewhat surprised, As well she might, To hear a man inquiring for garden rakes in the middle of December. I believe we have one or two left over, She said, But they're upstairs in the lumber room. I'll go and see. During her absence, Matthew collected his scattered senses for another effort. When Miss Harris returned with the rake and cheerfully inquired, Anything else tonight, Mr. Cuthbert? Matthew took his courage in both hands and replied, Well now. . . Since you suggest it, I might as well take, That is, Look at, By some hayseed, Miss Harris had heard Matthew Cuthbert called odd. She now concluded that he was entirely Crazy. We only keep hayseed in the spring, She explained loftily. We've none on hand just now. Oh. Certainly, Certainly. Just as you say, Stammered unhappy Matthew, Seizing the rake and making for the door. At the threshold, He recollected that he had not paid for it, And he turned miserably back. While Miss Harris was counting out his change, He. . . Rallied his powers for a final, Desperate attempt. Well, Now, If it isn't too much trouble, I might as well, That is, I'd like to look at some sugar. White or brown, Queried Miss Harris patiently. Oh! Well, Now. Brown, Said Matthew feebly. There's a barrel of it over there, Said Miss Harris, Shaking her bangles at it. It's the only kind we have. I'll I'll take twenty pounds of it, " said Matthew, With beads of perspiration standing on his forehead. Matthew had driven halfway home before he was his own man again. It had been a gruesome experience. But it served him right, He thought, For committing the heresy of going to a strange store. When he reached home, He hid the rake in the tall house, But the sugar he carried in to Marilla brown sugar! " exclaimed Marilla. Ever possessed you to get so much. No, I never use it. Except for the hired man's porridge or black fruitcake, Jerry's gone. And I've made my cake long ago. It's not good sugar either. It's coarse and dark. William Blair doesn't usually keep sugar like that. I. . . Thought it might come in handy sometime, " said Matthew, Making good his escape. When Matthew came to think the matter over, He decided that a woman was required to cope with the situation. Marilla was out of the question. Matthew felt sure she would throw cold water on his project at once. Remained only Mrs. Lynde. For of no other woman in Avonlea would Matthew have dared to ask advice. To Mrs. Lynde he went accordingly, And that good lady promptly took the matter out of the harassed man's hands. Pick out a dress for you to give Anne. To be sure, I will. I'm going to Carmody tomorrow, And I'll attend to it. Have you something particular in mind? No. Well, I'll just go by my own judgment then. I believe a nice rich brown would just suit Anne. And William Blair has some new Gloria in that's real pretty. Perhaps you'd like me to make it up for her too, Seeing that if Marilla was to make it, Anne would probably get wind of it before the time and spoil the surprise? Well, I'll do it. No, It isn't the might of trouble. I like sewing. I'll make it to fit my niece, Jenny Gillis, For she and Anne are as like as two peas, As far as figure goes. Well now, I'm much obliged, Said Matthew, And, And, I don't know, But I'd like. . . I think they. . . Make the sleeves different nowadays to what they used to be? If it wouldn't be asking too much, I. . . I'd like them made in the new way. Puffs? Of course! You needn't worry a speck more about it, Matthew. I'll make it up in the very latest fashion, " said Mrs. Lynde. To herself, She added, When Matthew had gone, Child wearing something decent for once. The way Marilla dresses her is positively ridiculous, That's what, And I've ached to tell her so plainly a dozen times. I've held my tongue though, For I can see Marilla doesn't want advice and she thinks she knows more about bringing children up than I do, For all she's an old maid. That's always the way. Folks that has brought up children know that there's no hard and fast method in the world that'll suit every child. But them as never have Think it's all as plain and easy As rule of three Just set your three terms down So fashion And the sum'll work out correct But flesh and blood don't come under the head of arithmetic. And that's where Marilla Cuthbert makes her mistake. I suppose she's trying to cultivate a spirit of humility in Anne by dressing her as she does. But it's more likely to cultivate envy and discontent. I'm sure the child must feel the difference between her clothes and the other girl's. But to think of Matthew taking notice of it. That man is waking up after being asleep for over 60 years. Marilla knew all the following fortnight that Matthew had something on his mind. But what it was, She could not guess. Until Christmas Eve, When Mrs. Lind brought up the new dress. Marilla behaved pretty well on the whole, Although it is very likely she distrusted Mrs. Lynn's diplomatic explanation that she had made the dress because Matthew was afraid Anne would find out about it too soon if Marilla made it. So, This is what Matthew has been looking so mysterious over and grinning about to himself for two weeks, Is it? She said a little stiffly, But tolerantly. I knew he was up to some foolishness. Well, I must say, I don't think Anne needed any more dresses. I made her three good, Warm, Serviceable ones this fall and anything more is sheer extravagance. There's enough material in those sleeves alone to make a waist. I declare there is. You'll just pamper Anne's vanity, Matthew. And she's as vain as a peacock now. Well? I hope she'll be satisfied at last, For I know she's been hankering after those silly sleeves ever since they came in. Although she never said a word after the first. The puffs have been getting bigger and more ridiculous right along. They're as big as balloons now. Next year, Anybody who wears them will have to go through a door sideways. Christmas morning broke on a beautiful white world. It had been a very mild December and people had looked forward to a green Christmas, But just enough snow fell softly in the night to transfigure Avonlea. Anne peeped out. From her frosted gable window with delighted eyes. The firs in the haunted wood were all feathery and wonderful. The birches and wild cherry trees were outlined in pearl. The ploughed fields were stretches of snowy dimples. And there was a crisp tang in the air that was glorious. Anne ran downstairs singing until her voice re-echoed through Green Gables. Merry Christmas, Marilla. Merry Christmas, Matthew. Isn't it a lovely Christmas? I'm so glad it's white! Any other kind of Christmas doesn't seem real, Does it? I don't like green Christmases. Green. They're just nasty faded browns and greys. What makes people call them green? Why? Matthew for me oh matthew Matthew had sheepishly unfolded the dress from its paper swathings and held it out with a deprecatory glance at Marilla, Who feigned to be contemptuously filling the teapot, But nevertheless watched the scene out of the corner of her eye with a rather interested air. Anne took the dress and looked at it in reverent silence. Ugh. How pretty it was. A lovely soft brown Gloria with all the gloss of silk. A skirt with dainty frills and shearings. A waist elaborately pin-tucked in the most fashionable way, With a little ruffle of filmy lace at the neck. But the sleeves, They were the crowning glory. Long elbow cuffs, And above them two beautiful puffs, Divided by rows of shearing and bows of brown silk. Ribbon. That's a Christmas present for you, Anne, " said Matthew shyly. Why? Why, Anne, Don't you like it? Well now. . . Well now. For Anne's eyes had suddenly filled with tears. Like it? Oh, Matthew! " Anne laid the dress over a chair and clasped her hands. Matthew, It's Perfectly. Exquisite. Oh. I can never thank you enough. Look at those sleeves! Oh, It seems to me this must be a happy dream. Well, Well. Let us have breakfast, Interrupted Marilla. I must say, Anne, I don't think you needed the dress. But since Matthew has got it for you, See that you take good care of it. There's a hair ribbon Mrs Lind left for you. It's brown to match the dress. Come now, Sit in. I don't see how I'm going to eat breakfast. Said Anne rapturously. Breakfast seems so commonplace at such an exciting moment. I'd rather feast my eyes on that dress. I'm so glad that puffed sleeves are still fashionable. It did seem to me that I'd never get over it if they went out before I had a dress with them. I'd never have felt quite satisfied, You see. It was lovely of mrs lynde to give me the ribbon too I feel that I ought to be a fairy. Good girl indeed. It's at times like this I'm sorry I'm not a model little girl. And I always resolve that I will be in future, But not now. Somehow. It's hard to carry out your resolutions when irresistible temptations come. Still, I really will make an extra effort after this. When the commonplace breakfast was over, Diana appeared, Crossing the white log bridge in the hollow, A gay little figure in her crimson ulster, And flew down the slope to meet her. Something splendid to show you. Matthew has given me the loveliest dress with such sleeves, I couldn't even imagine any nicer. I've got something more for you, Said Diana breathlessly. Here, This box. Aunt Josephine sent us out a big box with ever so many things in it and this is for you! I'd have brought it over last night, But it didn't come until after dark. I never feel very comfortable coming through the haunted wood in the dark now. Anne opened the box and peeped in. First, A card with For the Anne Girl and Merry Christmas written on it, And then a pair of the daintiest little kid slippers with beaded toes and satin bows and glistening buckles. Ugh. Said Anne. Diana! This is too much. I must be dreaming. I call it providential, " said Diana. You won't have to borrow ruby slippers now. And that's a blessing for they're two sizes too big for you. And it would be awful to hear a fairy shuffling. Josie Pie would be delighted. Mind you, Rob Wright went home with Gertie Pie from the practice night before last. Do you ever hear anything equal to that? All the Avonlea scholars were in a fight. Fever of excitement that day. For the hall had to be decorated and a last grand rehearsal held. The concert came off in the evening and was a pronounced success. The little hall was crowded All the performers did excellently well, But Anne was the bright particular star of the occasion, As even Envy in the shape of Josie Pie dared not deny. Oh, Hasn't it been a brilliant evening? Sighed Anne. When it was all over and she and Diana were walking home together under a dark starry sky. Everything went off very well, Said Diana practically. I guess we must have made as much as ten dollars. Mind you, Mr. Allen is going to send an account of it to the Charlottetown Papers. Oh. Diana. Will we really see our names in print? It makes me thrill! To think of it. Your solo was perfectly elegant, Diana. I felt prouder than you did when it was on chord. I just said to myself, It is my dear bosom friend. Who is so honoured. Well, Your recitations just brought down the house, Anne. That sad one? Was simply splendid. I was so nervous, Diana, When Mr. Allen called out my name. I really cannot tell how I ever got up on that platform. I felt as if a million eyes were looking at me and through me. And for one dreadful moment, I was sure I couldn't begin at all. Then I thought of my lovely puffed sleeves and took courage. I knew that I must live up to those sleeves, Diana. So I started in. And my voice seemed to be coming from elsewhere. Ever so far away. I just felt like a parrot. It's providential that I practiced those recitations so often up in the garret, Or I'd never have been able to get through. Did I groan all right? Yes, Indeed, You groaned lovely, Assured Diana. I saw old Mrs Sloane wiping away tears when I sat down. It was splendid to think I had touched somebody's heart. It's so. . . Romantic to take part in a concert, Isn't it? Ugh. It's been a very memorable occasion indeed. Wasn't the boys' dialogue fine? " said Diana. Gilbert Blythe was just splendid. And I do think it's awful mean, The way you treat Gil. Wait till I tell you. When you ran off the platform after the fairy dialogue, One of your roses fell out of your hair. I saw Gil pick it up and put it in his breast pocket. There now. You're so romantic. And I'm sure you ought to be pleased at that. It's nothing to me what that person does, " said Anne loftily. I simply never waste a thought on him, Diana. That night, Marilla and Matthew, Who had been out to a concert for the first time in twenty years, Sat for a while by the kitchen fire after Anne had gone to bed. Well now, I guess our Anne did as well as any of them, Said Matthew proudly. Yes, She did, Admitted Marilla. She's a bright child, Matthew, And she looked real nice too. I've been kind of opposed to this concert scheme, But I suppose there's no real harm in it after all. Anyhow, I was proud of Anne tonight, Although I'm not going to tell her so. Well now. I was proud of her. And I did tell her so, For she went upstairs, Said Matthew. We must see what we can do for her some of these days, Marilla. I guess she'll need something more than Avonlea's school, By and by. There's time enough to think of that, Said Marilla. She's only thirteen in March. Though tonight it struck me she was growing quite a big girl. Mrs. Lind made that dress a mite too long, And it makes Anne look so hot. It's cool. She's quick to learn and I guess the best thing we can do for her will be to send her to Queens after a spell. But nothing need be said about that for a year or two yet. Well now. It'll do no harm to be thinking it over off and on, Said Matthew. Things like that are all the better for lots of thinking over. Chapter 26. The Story Club is formed. Junior Avonlea found it hard to settle down to humdrum existence again. To Anne, In particular, Things seemed fearfully flat, Stale, And unprofitable. After the goblet of excitement she had been sipping for weeks, Could she go back to the former quiet pleasures of those far away days before the concert? At first, As she told Diana, She did not really think she could. I'm positively certain, Diana, That life can never be quite the same again as it was in those olden days, She said mournfully, As if referring to a period of at least 50 years back. Perhaps after a while I'll get used to it, But I'm afraid concerts spoil people for everyday life? I suppose that is why Marilla disapproves of them. Marilla is such a sensible woman. It must be a great deal better to be sensible. But still, I don't believe I really want to be a sensible person because they're so Unromantic. Mrs lynde says there is no danger of my ever being one but you can never tell I feel just now that I may grow up to be sensible yet. But perhaps that is only because I'm tired. I simply couldn't sleep last night for ever so long. I just lay awake and imagined the concert over and over again. That's one splendid thing about such affairs. It's so lovely to look back to them. Eventually, However, Avonlea's score slipped back into its old groove and took up its old interests. To be sure, The concert left traces. Ruby Gillis and Emma White, Who had quarrelled over a point of precedence in their platform seats, No longer sat at the same desk. And a promising friendship of three years was broken up. Josie Pie and Julia Bell did not speak for three months because Josie Pie had told Bessie Wright that Julia Bell's bow, When she got up to recite, Made her think of a chicken jerking its head. And Bessie told Julia, None of the Sloans would have any dealings with the Bells because the Bells had declared that the Sloans had too much to do in the program and the Sloans had retorted that the Bells were not capable of doing the little they had to do properly. Finally, Charlie Sloane fought Moody Spurgeon Macpherson because Moody Spurgeon had said that Anne Shirley put on airs about her recitations and Moody Spurgeon was licked. Consequently, Moody Spurgeon's sister, Ella May, Would not speak to Anne Shirley all the rest of the winter. With the exception of these trifling frictions, Work in Miss Stacy's little kingdom went on with regularity and smoothness. The winter weeks slipped by. It was an unusually mild winter. With so little snow that Anne and Diana could go to school nearly every day by way of the birch path. On Anne's birthday, They were tripping lightly down it, Keeping eyes and ears alert amid all their chatter, For Miss Stacy had told them that they must soon write a composition on a winter's walk in the woods, And it behooved them to be observant. Just think, Diana, I'm thirteen years old today, " remarked Anne in an awed voice. I can scarcely realise that I'm in my teens. When I woke this morning, It seemed to me that everything must be different. You've been 13 for a month, So I suppose it doesn't seem such a novelty to you as it does to me. It makes life seem so much more interesting. In two more years, I'll be really grown up. It's a great comfort to think that I'll be able to use big words then, Without being laughed at. Ruby Gillis says she means to have a bow as soon as she's 15, Said Diana. Ruby Gillis thinks of nothing but bows, Said Anne disdainfully. She's actually delighted when anyone writes her name up in a take notice. For all she pretends to be so mad. But I'm afraid that is an uncharitable speech. Mrs. Allen says we should never make uncharitable speeches. But they do slip out so often before you think, Don't they? I simply can't talk about Josie Pye without making an uncharitable speech, So I never mention her at all. You may have noticed that. I'm trying to be as much like Mrs. Allen as I possibly can. For I think she's perfect. Mr. Allen thinks so too. Mrs. Lynde says he just worships the ground she treads on and she doesn't really think it right for a minister to set his affections so much on a mortal being. But then. . . Diana, Even ministers are human and have their besetting sins, Just like everybody else. I had such an interesting talk with Mrs Allen about besetting sins last Sunday afternoon. There are just a few things it's proper to talk about on Sundays, And that is one of them. My besetting sin is. . . Imagining too much and forgetting my duties. I'm striving very hard to overcome it. And now that I'm really 13, Perhaps I'll get on better. In four more years we'll be able to put our hair up, " said Diana. Alice Bell is only 16 and she is wearing hers up? I think that's ridiculous. I shall wait until I'm 17. If I had Alice Bell's crooked nose, Said Anne decidedly, I wouldn't. But there. I won't say what I was going to because It was extremely uncharitable. Besides, I was comparing it with my own nose and that's vanity. I'm afraid I think too much about my nose. Ever since I heard that compliment about it long ago, It really is a great comfort to me. Oh, Diana, Look, There's a rabbit. That's something to remember for Old Wood's composition. I really think the woods are just as lovely in winter as in summer. They're so white and still, As if they were asleep and dreaming pretty dreams. I won't mind writing that composition when it's time comes. " Sighed Diana. I can manage to write about the woods, But the one we're to hand in Monday is terrible. The idea of Miss Stacy telling us to write a story out of our own heads. Why, It's as easy as wink, Said Anne. It's easy for you because you have an imagination, Retorted Diana. But what would you do if you had been born without one? I suppose you have your composition all done. Anne nodded, Trying hard not to look virtuously complacent and failing miserably. I wrote it last Monday evening. It's called The Jealous Rival or In Death Not Divided. I read it to Marilla and she said it was stuff and nonsense. Then I read it to Matthew and he said it was fine. That is the kind of critic I like. It's a sad, Sweet story. I just cried like a child while I was writing it. It's about two beautiful maidens called Cordelia Montmorency and Geraldine Seymour, Who lived in the same village and were devotedly attached to each other. Cordelia was a regal brunette with a coronet of midnight hair and duskly flashing eyes. Geraldine was a queenly blonde with hair like spun gold and velvety purple eyes. I never saw anybody with purple eyes, Said Diana dubiously. Neither did I. I just imagined them. I wanted something out of the common. Geraldine had an alabaster brow too. I've found out what an alabaster brow is. That is one of the advantages of being 13. You know so much more than you did when you were only 12. Well, What became of Cordelia and Geraldine? Asked Diana, Who was beginning to feel rather interested in their fate. They grew in beauty side by side until they were sixteen. Then Bertram de Vere came came to their native village and fell in love with the fair Geraldine. He saved her life when her horse ran away with her in a carriage and she fainted in his arms and he carried her home three miles because you understand the carriage was all smashed up I found it rather hard to imagine the proposal because I had no experience to go by. I asked Ruby Gillis if she knew anything about how men proposed because I thought she'd likely be an authority on the subject, Having so many sisters married. Ruby told me she was hid in the whole pantry when Malcolm Andres proposed to her sister Susan. She said Malcolm told Susan that his dad had given him the farm in his own name and then said, What do you say, Darling pet, If we get hitched this fall? And Susan said, Yes, No. I don't know. Let me see. And. . . There they were, Engaged, As quick as that. But I didn't think that sort of a proposal was a very romantic ones. In the end, I had to imagine it out as well as I could. I made it very flowery and poetical and Bertram went on his knees. Although Ruby Gillis says it isn't done nowadays, Geraldine accepted him in a speech a page long. I can tell you, I took a lot of trouble with that speech. I rewrote it five times, And I look upon it as my masterpiece. Bertram gave her a diamond ring and a ruby necklace and told her they would go to Europe for a wedding tour, For he was immensely wealthy. But then, Alas, Shadows began to darken over their path. Cordelia? Was secretly in love with Bertram herself. And when Geraldine told her about the engagement, She was simply furious. Especially when she saw the necklace and the diamond ring. All her affection for Geraldine turned to bitter. And she vowed that she should never marry Bertram. But she pretended to be Geraldine's friend the same as ever. One evening they were standing on the bridge over a rushing, Turbulent stream and Cordelia, Thinking they were alone, Pushed Geraldine over the brink with a wild, Mocking, Ha-ha-ha. Bertram saw it all, And he at once plunged into the current, Exclaiming, I will save thee, My peerless Geraldine! But alas, He had forgotten he couldn't swim. And they were both drowned, Clasped in each other's arms. Their bodies were washed ashore soon afterwards. They were buried in the one grave, And their funeral was most imposing, Diana. It's so much more romantic to end a story up with a funeral than a wedding. As for Cordelia, She went insane with remorse. And we'll shut up. In a lunatic asylum. I thought that was a poetical retribution for her crimes. How perfectly lovely sighed Diana, Who belonged to Matthew's school of critics. I don't see how you can make up such thrilling things out of your own head, Anne. I wish my imagination was as good as yours. It would be if you'd only cultivate it, " said Anne cheeringly. I've just thought of a plan, Diana. Let you and me have a story club. All our own and write stories for practice. I'll help you along until you can do them by yourself. You ought to cultivate your imagination, You know. Miss Stacy says so. Only we must take the right way. I told her about the haunted wood, But she said we went the wrong way about it in that This was how the Story Club came into existence. It was limited to Diana and Anne at first, But soon it was extended to include Jane Andrews and Ruby Gillis. One or two others who felt that their imaginations needed cultivating, No boys were allowed in it. Although Ruby Gillis opined that their admission would make it more exciting, And each member had to produce one story a week. It's extremely interesting, Anne told Marilla. Each girl has to read her story out loud and then we talk it over. We are going to keep them all sacredly and have them to read to our descendants. We each write under a nom de plume. Mine is Rosamond Montmorency. All the girls do pretty well. Ruby Gillis is rather sentimental. She puts too much lovemaking into her stories. And, You know, Too much is worse than too little. Jane never puts any because she says it makes her feel so silly when she had to read it out loud. Jane's stories are extremely sensible. Then Diana puts too many murders into hers. She says most of the time she doesn't know what to do with the people, So she kills them off to get rid of them. I mostly always have to tell them what to write about, But that isn't hard, For I've millions of ideas. I think this story writing business is the foolishest yet, Scoffed Marilla. You'll get a pack of nonsense into your heads and waste time that should be put on your lessons. Reading stories is bad enough, But writing them is worse. But we're so careful to put a moral into them all, Marilla, " explained Anne. I insist upon that. All the good people are rewarded and all the bad ones are suitably punished. I'm sure that must have a wholesome effect. The moral is the great thing. Mr. Allen says so. I read one of my stories to him and Mrs. Allen and they both agreed that the moral was excellent. Only they laughed in the wrong places. I like it better when people cry. Jane and Ruby almost always cry when I come to the pathetic parts. Diana wrote her aunt Josephine about our club and her aunt Josephine wrote back that we were to send her some of our stories. So we copied out four of our very best and sent them. Miss Josephine Barry wrote back that she had never read anything so amusing in her life. That kind of puzzled us because. . . The stories were all very pathetic. And almost everybody died. But I'm glad Miss Barry liked them. It shows our club is doing some good in the world. Mrs. Allen says that ought to be our object in everything. I do really try to make it my object but I forget so often when I'm having fun. I hope I shall be a little like Mrs. Allen when I grow up. Do you think there is any prospect of it, Marilla? I shouldn't say there was a great deal, Was Marilla's encouraging answer. I'm sure Mrs. Allen was never such a silly, Forgetful little girl as you are. No. But she wasn't always so good as she is now either, Said Anne seriously. She told me so herself. That is, She said she was a dreadful mischief when she was a girl and was always getting into scrapes. I felt so encouraged when I heard that. Is it very wicked of me, Marilla, To feel encouraged when I hear that other people have been bad and mischievous? Mrs Linde says it is. Mrs. Lynde says she always feels shocked when she hears of anyone ever having been naughty, No matter how small they were. Mrs Lynn says she once heard a minister confess that when he was a boy he stole a strawberry tart out of his aunt's pantry and she never had any respect for that minister again. Now, I wouldn't have felt that way. I'd have thought that it was real noble of him to confess it. And I'd have thought what an encouraging thing it would be for small boys nowadays who do naughty things and are sorry for them to know that perhaps they may grow up to be ministers in spite of it. That's how I'd feel, Marilla. The way I feel at present, Anne, " said Marilla, Is that it's high time you had those dishes washed. You've taken half an hour longer than you should with all your chattering. Learn to work first and talk afterwards. Chapter 27 Vanity and vexation of spirit Marilla, Walking home one late April evening from an aid meeting, Realised that the winter was over and gone with the thrill of delight that spring never fails to bring to the oldest and saddest, As well as to the youngest and merriest. Marilla was not given to subjective analysis of her thoughts and feelings. She probably imagined that she was thinking about the aides and their missionary box and the new carpet for the vestry room. But under these reflections was a harmonious consciousness of red fields smoking into pale purpley mists in the declining sun, Of long sharp pointed fur shadows falling over the meadow beyond the brook, Of still crimson budded maples. Around a mirror-like wood pool, Of awakening in the world and a stir of hidden pulses under the grey sod. The spring was abroad in the land. And Marilla's sober, Middle-aged step was lighter and swifter because of its deep, Primal gladness. Her eyes dwelt affectionately on green gables, Peering through its network of trees and reflecting the sunlight back from its windows in several little coruscations of glory. Marilla, As she picked her steps along the damp lane, Thought that it was really a satisfaction to know that she was going home to a briskly snapping wood fire and a table nicely spread for tea instead of to the cold comfort of old aid-meeting evenings before Anne had come to Green Gables. Consequently, When Marilla entered her kitchen and found the fire black out with no sign of Anne anywhere, She felt justly disappointed and irritated. She had told Anne to be sure and have tea ready at five o'clock. But now she must hurry to take off her second best dress and prepare the meal herself. Against Matthew's return from ploughing. I'll settle Miss Anne when she comes home, " said Marilla grimly, As she shaved up kindlings with a carving knife, And with more vim than was strictly necessary. Matthew had come in and was waiting patiently for his tea in his corner, She's gadding off somewhere with Diana. Writing stories or. . . Practicing dialogues or some such tomfoolery, And never thinking once about the time or her duties. She's just got to be pulled up short and sudden on this sort of thing. I don't care if Mrs. Allen does say she's the brightest and sweetest child she ever knew. She may be bright and sweet enough, But her head is full of nonsense. And there's never any knowing what shape it'll break out in next. Just as soon as she grows out of one week. Freak. She takes up with another. But there. Here I am saying the very thing I was so riled with Rachel Lind for saying at the aid today. I was real glad when Mrs Allen spoke up for Anne. For if she hadn't, I know I'd have said something too sharp to Rachel before everybody. Anne's got plenty of faults, Goodness knows, And far be it from me to deny it. But I'm bringing her up, And not Rachel Lind. Who'd pick fault in the angel Gabriel himself if he lived in Avonlea. Just the same. Anne has no business to leave the house like this when I told her she was to stay home this afternoon and look after things. I must say. With all her faults, I never found her disobedient or untrustworthy before. And I'm real sorry to find her so now. Well now, I dunno, " said Matthew, Who, Being patient and wise and, Above all, Hungry, Had deemed it best to let Marilla talk her wrath out unhindered, Having learned by experience that she got through with whatever work was on a hand, Much quicker if not delayed by untimely argument. Perhaps you're judging her too hasty, Marilla? Don't call her untrustworthy until you're sure she has disobeyed you. Maybe it can all be explained. Anne's a great hand at explaining. She's not here. When I told her to stay, Retorted Marilla, I reckon she'll find it hard to explain that to my satisfaction. Of course, I knew you'd take her part, Matthew. But I'm bringing her up, Not you. It was dark when supper was ready. And still no sign of Anne coming hurriedly over the log bridge or up lover's lane, Breathless and repentant with a sense of neglected duties. Marilla washed and put away the dishes grimly. Then, Wanting a candle to light her way down the cellar, She went up to the east gable for the one that generally stood on Anne's table. Lighting it, She turned around, To see Anne herself lying on the bed face downward among the pillows. Mercy on us. Said astonished Marilla. Been asleep? No. Was the muffled reply. Are you sick then? Demanded Marilla anxiously going over to the bed. Anne cowered deeper into her pillows, As if desirous of hiding herself forever from mortal eyes. No. But please, Marilla, Go away. Don't look at me. I'm in the depths of despair. And I don't care who gets head in class or writes the best composition or sings in the Sunday school choir anymore. Little things like that are of no importance now, Because I don't suppose I'll ever be able to go anywhere again. My career. Is closed. Please, Marilla, Go away and don't look at me. Did anyone ever hear the light? The mystified Marilla wanted to know. Anne Shirley. Whatever is the matter with you? What have you done? Get right up this minute and tell me. This minute, I say. There now. What is it? Anne had slid to the floor in despairing obedience. My hair. Marilla. She whispered. Accordingly, Marilla lifted her candle and looked. Scrutinizingly at Anne's hair flowing in heavy masses down her back. It. Certainly had a very strange appearance. And Shirley. What have you done to your hair? Why, It's green! Green it might be called. If it were any earthly colour, A queer, Dull, Bronzy green. With streaks here and there of the original red to heighten the ghastly effect. Never in all her life had Marilla seen anything so grotesque as Anne's hair at that moment. Yes, It's green, Moaned Anne. I thought nothing could be as bad as red hair. But now I know it's ten times worse to have green hair. Oh, Marilla. You little know how utterly wretched I am. I little know how you got into this fix. But I mean to find out, Said Marilla. Come right down to the kitchen. It's too cold up here. And tell me just what you've done. I've been expecting something queer for some time. You haven't got into any scrape for over two months and I was sure another one was due. Now then, What did you do to your hair? I dyed it. Diet aids? Dyed your hair. And surely. . . Didn't you know it was a wicked thing to do? Yes. I knew it was a little wicked, Admitted Anne, But I thought it was worthwhile to be a little wicked to get rid of red hair. I counted the cost, Marilla. Besides, I meant to be extra good in other ways to make up for it. Well, Said Marilla sarcastically, If I'd decided it was worthwhile to dye my hair, I'd have dyed it a decent colour, At least. I wouldn't have dyed it green. But I didn't mean to dye it green, Marilla, Protested Anne dejectedly. If I was wicked, I meant to be wicked to some purpose. He said it would turn my hair a beautiful raven. Black. He positively assured me that it would. How could I doubt his word, Marilla? I know what it feels like to have your word doubted. And Mrs Allen says we should never suspect anyone of not telling us the truth unless we have proof that they're not. I have proof now. Green hair is proof enough for anybody. But I hadn't then, And I believed every word he said implicitly. Who said, Who are you talking about? The Peddler. That was here this afternoon. I bought the dye from him. Pan. Charlie! How often have I told you never to let one of those Italians in the house? I don't believe in encouraging them to come around at all. I didn't let him in the house. I remembered what you told me and I went out. Carefully shut the door. And looked at his things on the step. Besides, He wasn't an Italian, He was a German Jew. He had a big box full of very interesting things. And he told me he was working hard to make enough money to bring his wife and children out from Germany. He spoke so feelingly about them that it touched my heart. I wanted to buy something from him, To help him in such a worthy object. Then, All at once, I saw the bottle of hair dye. The peddler said it was warranted to dye any hair a beautiful raven black and wouldn't wash off. In a trice. I saw myself with beautiful raven black hair and the temptation was irresistible. But the price of the bottle was 75 cents and I had only 5 cents left out of my chicken money. I think the peddler had a very kind heart for he said that seeing it was me he'd sell it for 50 cents and that was just giving it away so I bought it And as soon as he had gone, I came up here and applied it with an old hairbrush, As the directions said. I used up the whole bottle. And oh, Marilla. When I saw the dreadful colour it turned my hair. I repented of being wicked, I can tell you. And I've been repenting ever since. Well, I hope you'll repent to good purpose, Said Marilla severely, And that you've got your eyes opened to where your vanity has led you, Anne. Goodness knows what's to be done. I suppose the first thing is to give your hair a good washing and see if that will do any good. Accordingly, Anne washed her hair, Scrubbing it vigorously with soap and water. But for all the difference it made, She might as well have been scouring its original red. The peddler had certainly spoken the truth when he declared that the dye wouldn't wash off. However, His veracity might be impeached in other respects. Oh, Marilla, What shall I do? Questioned Anne in tears. I can never live this down. People have pretty well forgotten my other mistakes. The liniment cake and. . . Setting Diana drunk and flying into a temper with Mrs Lind, But they'll never forget this. They will think I am not respectable. Oh, Marilla, What a tangled web we weave when first we practice to deceive. That is poetry, But it is true. And oh, How Josie Pie will laugh! Marilla, I cannot face Josie Pye. I am the unhappiest girl in Prince Edward Island. Anne's unhappiness continued for a week. During that time she went nowhere and shampooed her hair every day. Diana alone of outsiders knew the fatal secret, But she promised solemnly never to tell, And it may be stated here and now that she kept her word. At the end of the week, Marilla said decidedly, It's no use, Anne. That is fast dye, If ever there was any. Your hair must be cut off. There is no other way. You can't go out with it looking like that. Anne's lips quivered. But she realized the bitter truth of Marilla's remarks. With a dismal sigh, She went for the scissors. Please cut it off at once, Marilla, And have it over. Oh, I feel that my heart is broken. This is such an unromantic affliction. That girls in books lose their hair in fevers, Or sell it to get money for some good deed. And I'm sure I wouldn't mind losing my hair in some such fashion, Half so much, But there is nothing comforting in having your hair cut off because you've dyed it a dreadful colour is there? I'm going to weep all the time you're cutting it off if it won't interfere. It seems such a tragic thing. Anne wept then. But later on, When she went upstairs and looked in the glass, She was calm with despair. Marilla had done her work thoroughly, And it had been necessary to shingle the hair as closely as possible. The result was not becoming, To state the case as mildly as may be. Anne promptly turned her glass to the wall. I'll never, Never look at myself again until my hair grows, " she exclaimed passionately. Then she suddenly righted the glass. Yes, I will too. I'd do penance for being wicked that way. I'll look at myself every time I come to my room and see how. Ugly I am. And I won't try to imagine it away either. I never thought I was vain about my hair, Of all things, But now I know I was, In spite of its being red. Because it was so long and thick and curly. I expect something will happen to my nose next. Anne's clipped head made a sensation in school on the following Monday. But, To her relief, Nobody guessed the real reason for it. Not even Josie Pye, Who, However, Did not fail to inform Anne that she looked like a perfect scarecrow. I didn't say anything when Josie said that to me and confided that evening to Marilla, Who was lying on the sofa after one of her headaches, Because I thought it was part of my punishment and I ought to bear it patiently. It's hard to be told you look like a scarecrow. And I wanted to say something back, But I didn't. I just swept her one scornful look. And then I forgave her. It makes you feel very virtuous when you forgive people, Doesn't it? I mean to devote all my energies to being good after this, And I shall never try to be beautiful again. Of course, It's better to be good. I know it is. But it's sometimes so hard to believe a thing, Even when you know it. I do really want to be good, Marilla. Like you, And Mrs. Allen, And Miss Stacy. And grow up to be a credit to you. Diana says, When my hair begins to grow, To tie a black velvet ribbon around my head with a bow at one side, She says she thinks it will be very becoming. I will call it a snood. That sounds so romantic. But am I talking too much, Marilla? Does it hurt your head? My head is better now. It was terrible bad this afternoon, Though. These headaches of mine are getting worse and worse. I'll have to see a doctor about them. As for your chatter. . . I don't know that I mind it. I've got so used to it. Which was Marilla's way of saying that she liked to hear it. Chapter 28 An Unfortunate Lily Maid Of course you must be Elaine, Anne, " said Diana. I could never have the courage to float down there. Nor I, Said Ruby Gillis with a shiver, I don't mind floating down when there's two or three of us in the flat and we can sit up. It's fun then, But to lie down and pretend I was dead. I just couldn't. I'd die really of fright. Of course it would be romantic, Conceded Jane Andrews, But I know I couldn't keep still. I'd be popping up every minute or so to see where I was and if I wasn't drifting too far out. And, You know, Anne, That would spoil the effect. But it's so ridiculous to have a red-headed Elaine, " mourned Anne. I'm not afraid to float down, And I'd love to be Elaine, But it's It's ridiculous. Just the same. Ruby ought to be Elaine because she is so fair and has such lovely long golden hair. Elaine had all her bright hair streaming down, You know. And Elaine was the lily maid. Now, A red-haired person cannot be a lily maid. Your complexion is just as fair as Ruby's, Said Diana earnestly, And your hair is ever so much darker than it used to be before you cut it. Oh, Do you really think so? Exclaimed Anne, Flushing sensitively with delight. I've sometimes thought it was myself but I never dared to ask anyone. For fear she would tell me it wasn't. Do you think. . . ? It could be called Auburn now, Diana. Yes. And I think it is real pretty, " said Diana, Looking admiringly at the short silky curls that clustered over Anne's head and were held in place by a very jaunty black velvet ribbon and bow. They were standing on the bank of the pond below Orchard Slope, Where a little headland fringed with birches ran out from the bank. At its tip was a small wooden platform built out into the water for the convenience of fishermen and duck hunters. Ruby and Jane were spending the midsummer afternoon with Diana and Anne had come over to play with them. Anne and Diana had spent most of their playtime that summer on and about the pond. Idlewild was a thing of the past, Mr Bell having ruthlessly cut down the little circle of trees in his back pasture in the spring. Anne had sat among the stumps and wept, Not without an eye to the romance of it, But she was speedily consoled for, After all, As she and Diana said, Big girls of thirteen going on fourteen were too old for such childish amusements as playhouses, And there were more fascinating sports to be found about the pond. It was splendid to fish for trout over the bridge, And the two girls learned to row themselves about in the little flat-bottomed dory Mr Barry kept for duck shooting. It was Anne's idea that they dramatise Elaine. They had studied Tennyson's poem in school the preceding winter, The Superintendent of Education having prescribed it in the English course for the Prince Edward Island schools. They had analysed and parsed it and torn it to pieces in general until It was a wonder there was any meaning at all left in it for them, But at least the fair lily maid, And Lancelot, And Guinevere, And King Arthur had become very real people to them. And Anne was devoured by secret regret that she had not been born in Camelot. Those days, She said, Were so much more romantic than the present. Anne's plan was hailed with enthusiasm. The girls had discovered that if the flat were pushed off from the landing place, It would drift down with the current under the bridge and finally strand itself on another headland lower down, Which ran out at a curve in the pond. They had often gone down like this and nothing could be more convenient for playing Elaine. "'Well, I'll be Elaine, ' said Anne, Yielding reluctantly, For although she would have been delighted to play the principal character, Yet her artistic sense demanded fitness for it, And this she felt her limitations made impossible. Ruby, You must be King Arthur, And Jane will be Guinevere, And Diana must be Lancelot. But first, You must be the brothers and the father. We can't have the old dumb servitor because there isn't room for two in the flat when one is lying down. We must pull the barge all its length in blackest samite. That old black shawl of your mother's will be just the thing, Diana. The black shawl having been procured, Anne spread it over the flat and then lay down on the bottom with closed eyes and hands folded over her breast. Oh. She does look really dead, " whispered Ruby Gillis nervously, Watching the still, White little face under the flickering shadows of the birches. It makes me feel frightened, Girls. Do you suppose it's really right to act like this? Mrs. Lind says that all play acting is abominably wicked. Ruby, You shouldn't talk about Mrs Lind, Said Anne severely. It spoils the effect, Because this is hundreds of years before Mrs Lind was born. Jane, You arrange this. It's silly for Elaine to be talking when she's dead. Jane rose to the occasion. Cloth of gold for coverlet, There was none, But an old piano scarf of yellow Japanese crepe was an excellent substitute. A white lily was not obtainable just then, But the effect of a tall blue iris placed in one of Anne's folded hands was all that could be desired. Now she's all ready, Said Jane. We must kiss her quiet brows. And Diana, You say, Sister, Farewell forever. And Ruby, You say, Farewell, Sweet sister. Both of you as sorrowfully as you possibly can. Anne, For goodness sake, Smile a little. You know Elaine lay as though she smiled. That's better. Now, Push the flat off. The flat was, Accordingly, Pushed off, Scraping roughly over an old embedded stake in the process. Diana and Jane and Ruby only waited long enough to see it caught in the current and headed for the bridge, Before scampering up through the woods across the road and down to the lower headland, Where, As Lancelot and Guinevere and the King, They were to be in readiness to receive the Lily Maid. For a few minutes, Anne, Drifting slowly down, Enjoyed the romance of her situation to the full. Then something happened not at all romantic. The flat began to leak. In a very few moments, It was necessary for Elaine to scramble to her feet, Pick up her cloth of gold coverlet and pool of blackest samite, And gaze blankly at a big crack in the bottom of her barge, Through which the water was literally pouring. Boring. That sharp stake at the landing had torn off the strip of batting nailed on the flat. Anne did not know this, But it did not take her long to realise that she was in a dangerous plight. At this rate, The flat would fill and sink long before it could drift to the lower headland Where were the oars? Left behind at the landing. Anne gave one gasping little scream which nobody ever heard. She was white to the lips. But she did not lose her self-possession. There was one chance. Just one. I was horribly frightened. She told Mrs Allen the next day. And it seemed like years while the flat was drifting down to the bridge and the water rising in it every moment. I prayed Mrs Allen most earnestly. But I didn't shut my eyes to pray for I knew the only way God could save me was to let the flat float close enough to one of the bridge piles for me to climb up on it. You know, The piles are just old tree trunks and there are lots of knots and old branch stubs on them. It was proper to pray but I had to do my part by watching out and right well I knew it. I just said, Dear God, Please take the flat close to a pile and I'll do the rest over and over again. Under such circumstances, You don't think much about making a flowery prayer, But mine was answered. For the flat bumped right into a pile for a while. Minute and I flung the scarf and the shawl over my shoulder and scrambled up on a big providential stub. And there I was, Mrs. Allen, Clinging to that slippery old pile with no way of getting up or down. It was a very unromantic position, But I didn't think about that at the time. You don't think much about romance when you have just escaped from a watery grave. I said a grateful prayer at once. And then I gave all my attention to holding on tight. For I knew I should probably have to depend on human aid to get back to dry land. The flat drifted under the bridge and then promptly sank in midstream. Ruby, Jane and Diana, Already awaiting it on the lower headland, Saw it disappear before their very eyes and had not a doubt but that Anne had gone down with it for a moment. They stood still, White as sheets, Frozen with horror at the tragedy. Shrieking at the tops of their voices. They started on a frantic run up through the woods, Never pausing as they crossed the main road to glance the way of the bridge. Anne, Clinging desperately to her precarious foothold, Saw their flying forms and heard their shrieks. Help would soon come but meanwhile her position was a very uncomfortable one. The minutes passed by, Each seeming an hour to the unfortunate lily-maid. Why didn't somebody come? Where had the girls gone? Suppose. They had fainted, One and all. Suppose nobody ever came. Suppose she grew so tired and cramped that she could hold on no longer. Anne looked at the wicked green depths below her, Wavering with long oily shadows. And shivered. Her imagination began to suggest all manner of gruesome possibilities to her. Then, Just as she thought she really could not endure the ache in her arms and wrists, Another moment Gilbert Blythe. Came rowing under the bridge. In Harmon Andrews' Dory. Gilbert glanced up and said, Much to his amazement, Beheld a little, White, Scornful face looking down upon him with big frightened but also scornful grey eyes. And Shirley? How on earth did you get there? " he exclaimed. Without waiting for an answer, He pulled close to the pile and extended his hand. There was no help for it. Anne, Clinging to Gilbert Blythe's hand, Scrambled down into the dory where she sat, Drabbled and furious. In the stern with her arms full of dripping shawl and wet crepe. It was certainly extremely difficult to be dignified under the circumstances. What has happened Anne? Asked Gilbert, Taking up his oars. We were playing Elaine, Explained Anne frigidly, Without even looking at her rescuer. And I had to drift down to Camelot in the barge. I mean, The flat. The flat began to leak and I climbed out on the pile. The girls went for help. Will you be kind enough to row me to the landing? Gilbert obligingly rode to the landing, And Anne, Disdaining assistance, Sprang nimbly on shore. "'I'm very much obliged to you, ' she said haughtily as she turned away. But Gilbert had also sprung from the boat and now laid a detaining hand on her arm. And he said hurriedly, Look here, Can't we be good friends? I'm awfully sorry. I made fun of your hair that time. I didn't mean to. To vex you and I only meant it for a joke besides it's so long ago. I think your hair is awfully pretty now. Honest, I do. Let's be friends? For a moment, Anne hesitated. She had an odd, Newly awakened consciousness under all her outraged dignity. That the half-shy, Half-eager expression in Gilbert's hazel eyes was something that was very good to see. Her heart gave a quick, Queer little beat. But the bitterness of her old grievance promptly stiffened up her wavering determination. That scene of two years before flashed back into her recollection as vividly as if it had taken place yesterday. Gilbert had called her carrots. And had brought about her disgrace before the whole school. Her resentment, Which to other and older people might be as laughable as its cause, Was in no wit allayed and softened by time. Seemingly. She hated Gilbert Blythe. She would never forgive him. No, She said coldly. I shall never be friends with you, Gilbert Blythe, And I don't want to be. All right, Gilbert sprang into his skiff with an angry colour in his cheeks. I'll never ask you to be friends again, Anne Shirley, And never again. I don't care either. He pulled away. With swift, Defiant strokes, And Anne went up the steep, Ferny little path under the maples. She held her head very high but She was conscious. Of an odd feeling of regret She almost wished she had answered Gilbert differently. Of course, He had insulted her terribly, But. . . Still. Altogether, Anne rather thought it would be a relief to sit down and have a good cry. She was really quite unstrung, For the reaction from her fright and cramped clinging was making itself felt. Halfway up the path, She met Jane and Diana rushing back to the pond in a state narrowly removed from positive frenzy. They had found nobody at Orchard Slope, Both Mr and Mrs Barry being away. Here, Ruby Gillis had succumbed to hysterics and was left to recover from them as best she might, While Jane and Diana flew through the haunted wood and across the brook to Green Gables. There they had found nobody either, For Marilla had gone to Carmody and Matthew was making hay in the back field. "'Anne! ' gasped Diana, Fairly falling on the former's neck and weeping with relief and delight. Man. We thought you were drowned and we felt like murderers because we had made you be Elaine. And Ruby. Is in hysterics. Oh. Anne. How did you escape? I climbed up on one of the piles, Explained Anne wearily, And Gilbert Blythe came along in Mr Andrews Dory. And brought me to land. Oh! Ann! How splendid of him! Why, It's so romantic, " said Jane, Finding breath enough for utterance at last. Of course you'll speak to him after this. Of course I won't, Flashed Anne, With a momentary return of her old spirit, And I don't want ever to hear the word romantic again, Jane Andrews. I'm awfully sorry. You were so frightened, Girls. It is all my fault. I feel sure I was born under an unlucky star. Everything I do gets me or my dearest friends into a scrape. We've gone and lost your father's flat, Diana. And I have a pre-sentiment that we'll not be allowed to row on the pond anymore. Anne's pre-sentiment proved more trustworthy than pre-sentiments are apt to do. Great was the consternation in the Barry and Cuthbert households when the events of the afternoon became known. Will you? Ever have any sense, Anne, Groaned Marilla. Oh. . . Yes. I think I will, Marilla, Returned Anne optimistically. A good cry, Indulged in the grateful solitude of the East Gable, Had soothed her nerves and restored her to her wanted cheerfulness. I think my prospects of becoming sensible are brighter now than ever before. "'I don't see how, ' said Marilla. "'Well, ' explained Anne, "'I've learned a new and valuable lesson today. '" Ever since I came to Green Gables, I've been making mistakes. And each mistake has helped to cure me of some great shortcoming. The affair of the amethyst brooch cured me of meddling with things that didn't belong to me. The haunted wood mistake cured me of letting my imagination run away with me. The liniment cake mistake cured me of carelessness in cooking. Dyeing my hair cured me of vanity. I never think about my hair and nose now, At least very seldom. And today's mistake is going to cure me of being too romantic. I have come to the conclusion that it is no use trying to be romantic. In Avonlea. It was probably easy enough in Talwood Camelot hundreds of years ago, But romance is not appreciated now. I feel quite sure that you will soon see a great improvement in me in this respect, Marilla. I'm sure I hope so, " said Marilla skeptically. But Matthew, Who had been sitting mutely in his corner, Laid a hand on Anne's shoulder when Marilla had gone out. Don't give up all your romance and he whispered shyly a little of it is a good thing not too much of course but Keep a little of it, Anne. Keep a little of it. Chapter 29. An epoch in Anne's life. Anne was bringing the cows home from the back pasture by way of Lover's Lane. It was a September evening, And all the gaps and clearings in the woods were brimmed up with ruby sunset light. Here and there the lane was splashed with it, But for the most part it was already quite shadowy beneath the maples, And the spaces under the firs were filled with a clear violet dusk like airy wine. The winds were out in their tops and there is no sweeter music on earth than that which the wind makes in the fir trees at evening. The cows swung placidly down the lane, And Anne followed them dreamily, Repeating aloud the battle canto from Marmion, Which had also been part of their English course the preceding winter, And which Miss Stacy had made them learn off by heart, And exulting in its rushing lines, The clash of spears in its imagery. When she came to the lines, The stubborn spearsmen still made good their dark, Impenetrable wood. She stopped in ecstasy, To shut her eyes, That she might the better fancy herself one of that heroic ring. When she opened them again, It was, To behold, Diana. Coming through the gate that led into the barry field and looking so important that Anne instantly divined there was news to be told. But betray to eager curiosity, She would not. Isn't this evening just like a purple dream, Diana? It makes me so glad to be alive. In the mornings, I always think the mornings are best, But. When evening comes. I think it's lovelier still. It's a very fine evening said diana but oh I have such news and guess. You can have three guesses. Charlotte Gillis is going to be married in the church after all and Mrs. Allen wants us to decorate it? Cried Anne. No. Charlotte's beau won't agree to that because nobody ever has been married in the church yet and he thinks it would seem too much like a funeral. Too mean because it would be such fun. Guess again. Jane's mother is going to let her have a birthday party? Diana shook her head, Her black eyes dancing with merriment. I can't think what it can be, Said Anne in despair, Unless it's that moody Spurgeon Macpherson saw you home from prayer meeting last night. Did he? I should think not. Exclaimed Diana indignantly. I wouldn't be likely to boast of it if he did. The horrid creature. I knew you couldn't guess it. Mother had a letter from Aunt Josephine today and Aunt Josephine wants you and me to go to town next Tuesday and stop with her for the exhibition. There! Guyana! Whispered Anne, Finding it necessary to lean up against a maple tree for support. Do you really mean it? But I'm afraid Marilla won't let me go. She will say that She can't encourage gadding about. That was what she said last week when Jane invited me to go with them in their double-seated buggy to the American concert at the White Sands Hotel. I wanted to go, But Marilla said I'd be better at home, Learning my lessons. And so would Jane. I was bitterly disappointed, Diana. I felt so heartbroken that I wouldn't say my prayers when I went to bed, But I repented of that and got up in the middle of the night and said them. I'll tell you, Said Diana, We'll get mother to ask Marilla. She'll be more likely to let you go then. And if she does, We'll have the time of our lives, Anne. I've never been to an exhibition. And it's so easy. Aggravating to hear the other girls talking about their trips. Jane and Ruby have been twice and they're going this year again. I'm not going to think about it at all. Until I know whether I can go or not, " said Anne, Resolutely, If I did. And then was disappointed. It would be more than I could bear. But in case I do go, I'm very glad my new coat will be ready by that time. Marilla didn't think I needed a new coat. She said my old one would do very well for another winter and that I ought to be satisfied with having a new dress. The dress is very pretty, Diana. Navy blue and made so fashionably. Marilla always makes my dresses fashionably now because she says she doesn't intend to have Matthew going to Mrs. Lynde to make them. I'm so glad. It is ever so much easier to be good if your clothes are fashionable. At least it is easier for me. I suppose it doesn't make such a difference to naturally good people. But Matthew said, I must have a new coat. So Marilla bought a lovely piece of blue broadcloth and it's being made by a real dressmaker over at Carmody. It's to be done Saturday night. And I'm trying not to imagine myself walking up the church aisle on Sunday in my new suit and cap. Because I'm afraid it isn't right to imagine such things, But it just slips into my mind in spite of me. My cap is so pretty. Matthew bought it for me. The day we were over at Carmody, It is one of those little blue velvet ones that are all the rage with gold cord and tassels. Your new hat is elegant, Diana, And so becoming. When I saw you coming to church last Sunday, My heart swelled with pride to think you were my dearest friend. Do you suppose it's wrong for us to think so much about our clothes? Marilla says it is very sinful. It is such an interesting subject, Isn't it? Marilla agreed to let Anne go to town, And it was arranged that Mr Barry should take the girls in on the following Tuesday. As Charlottetown was 30 miles away and Mr. Barry wished to go and return the same day, It was necessary to make a very early start. But Anne counted it all joy and was up before sunrise on Tuesday morning. A glance from her window assured her that the day would be fine. Behind the firs of the haunted wood was all silvery and cloudless. Through the gap in the trees, A light was shining in the western gable of Orchard Slope, A token that Diana was also up. Anne was dressed by the time Matthew had the fire on and had the breakfast ready when Marilla came down, But for her own part was much too excited to eat. After breakfast the jaunty new cap and jacket were donned and Anne hastened over the brook and up through the firs to Orchard Slope. Mr Barry and Diana were waiting for her and they were soon on the road. It was a long drive, But Anne and Diana enjoyed every minute of it. It was delightful to rattle along over the moist roads in the early red sunlight that was creeping across the shorn harvest fields. The air was fresh and crisp, And little smoke-blue mists curled through the valleys and floated off from the hills. Sometimes the road went through woods where maples were beginning to hang out scarlet banners. Sometimes it crossed rivers on bridges that made Anne's flesh cringe with the old half-delighted fear. Sometimes it wound along a harbour shore and passed by a little cluster of weathered grey fishing huts. Again it mounted to hills whence a far sweep of curving upland or misty blue sky could be seen. But wherever it went, There was much of interest to discuss. It was almost noon when they reached town and found their way to Beachwood. It was quite a fine old mansion, Set back from the street in a seclusion of green elms and branching beaches. Miss Barry met them at the door with a twinkle in her sharp black eyes. So, You've come to see me at last, You Anne girl, " she said. Mercy, Child, How you have grown! You're taller than I am, I declare! And you're ever so much better looking than you used to be too. But I dare say you know that without being told. Indeed, I didn't, Said Anne radiantly. I know I'm not so freckled as I used to be, So I've much to be thankful for, But I really hadn't dared to hope there was any other improvement. I'm so glad you think there is Miss Barry. Miss Barry's house was furnished with great magnificence, As Anne told Marilla afterward. The two little country girls were rather abashed. By the splendor of the parlor where Miss Barry left them when she went to see about dinner. Isn't it just like? A palace. Whispered Diana. I never was in aunt josephine's house before and i'd no idea it was so grand I just wish Julia Bell could see this. She puts on such airs about her mother's parlour. Velvet, Carpet, Side-anne luxuriously, And silk, Curtains, I've dreamed of such things, Diana. But do you know, I don't believe I feel very comfortable with them after all. There are so many things in this room and all so splendid. That there is. No scope. For imagination. That is one consolation when you are poor. There are so many more things you can imagine about Their sojourn in town was something that Anne and Diana dated from for years. From first to last, It was crowded with delights. On Wednesday, Miss Barry took them to the exhibition grounds and kept them there all day. It was splendid. Anne related to Marilla later on. I never imagined anything so interesting. I don't really know which department was the most interesting. I think I liked the horses and the flowers and the fancy work best. Josie Pye took first prize for knitted lace. I was real glad she did. And I was glad that I felt glad for it shows I'm improving. Don't you think, Marilla, When I can rejoice? In Josie's success? Mr. Harmon Andrews took second prize for gravenstain apples and Mr. Bell took first prize for a pig. Diana said she thought it was ridiculous for a Sunday school superintendent to take a prize in pigs, But I don't see why, Do you? She said she would always think of it after this when he was praying so solemnly. Clara Louise Macpherson took a prize for painting and Mrs. Lind got first prize for homemade butter and cheese. So Avonlea was pretty well represented, Wasn't it? Mrs Lind was there that day. And I never knew how much I really liked her until I saw her familiar face among all those strangers. There were thousands of people there, Marilla. It made me feel. Dreadfully insignificant. And Miss Barry took us up to the grandstand to see the horse races. Mrs Lind wouldn't go. She said horse racing was an abomination and she being a church member thought it her bounden duty to set a good example by staying away. But there were so many there, I don't believe Mrs. Lynn's absence would ever be noticed. I don't think though that I ought to go very often to horse races because They are awfully fascinating. Diana got so excited that she offered to bet me 10 cents that the red horse would win. I didn't believe he would but I refused to bet because I wanted to tell Mrs Allen all about everything and I felt sure It wouldn't do to tell her that. It's always wrong to do anything you can't tell the minister's wife. It's as good as an extra conscience to have a minister's wife for your friend. And I was very glad I didn't bet because the red horse did win. And I would have lost 10 cents. So you see, That virtue was its own reward. We saw a man go up in a balloon. I'd love to go up in a balloon, Marilla. It would be simply thrilling. And we saw a man selling fortunes. You paid him 10 cents and a little bird picked out your fortune for you. Miss Barry gave Diana and me 10 cents each to have our fortunes told. Mine was that I would marry a dark, Complected man who was very wealthy and I would go across water to live. I looked carefully at all the dark men I saw after that, But I didn't care much for any of them. And anyhow, I suppose it's too early to be looking out for him yet. Sigh It was a never-to-be-forgotten day, Marilla. I was so tired I couldn't sleep at night. Miss Barry put us in the spare room according to promise. It was an elegant room, Marilla. But somehow. . . Sleeping in a spare room isn't what I used to think it was. That's the worst of growing up and I'm beginning to realise it. The things you wanted so much when you were a child don't seem half so wonderful to you when you get them. Thursday, The girls had a drive in the park, And in the evening, Miss Barry took them to a concert in the Academy of Music, Where a noted prima donna was to sing. To Anne, The evening was a glittering vision of delight. Oh, Marilla. It was beyond description. I was so excited I couldn't even. Hawk. So you may know what it was like. I just sat. In enraptured silence. Madame Selitsky was perfectly beautiful and wore white satin and diamonds but when she began to sing. I never thought about anything else. I can't tell you how I felt, But it seemed to me that it could never be hard to be good anymore. I felt like I do when I look up to the stars. Tears came into my eyes but oh, They were such happy tears. I was so sorry when it was all over and I told Miss Barry I didn't see how I was ever to return to common life again. She said, She thought, If we went over to the restaurant across the street and had an ice cream, It might help me. That sounded so prosaic. But to my surprise, I found it true. That ice cream was delicious, Marilla. And it was so lovely and dissipated to be sitting there eating it at 11 o'clock at night. Diana said she believed she was born for city life. Miss Barry asked me what my opinion was, But I said I would have to think it over very seriously before I could tell her what I really thought. So I thought it over after I went to bed. That is the best time to think things out. And I came to the conclusion, Marilla, That I wasn't born for city life. And that I was glad of it. It's nice to be eating ice cream at brilliant restaurants at 11 o'clock at night once in a while but as a regular thing. I'd rather be in the East Gable at eleven, Sound asleep, But kind of knowing, Even in my sleep, That the stars were shining outside and that the wind was blowing in the firs across the brook. I told Miss Barry so at breakfast the next morning. And she laughed. Miss Barry generally laughed at anything I said, Even when I said the most solemn things. I don't think I liked it, Marilla, Because I wasn't trying to be funny. But she is a most hospitable lady and treated us royally. Friday brought going home time. And Mr Barry drove in for the girls. World. I hope you've enjoyed yourselves, Said Miss Barry as she bade them goodbye. Indeed we have, Said Diana. And you. And girl. I've enjoyed every minute of the time, " said Anne. Throwing her arms impulsively about the old woman's neck and kissing her wrinkled cheeks. Diana would never have dared to do such a thing and felt rather aghast at Anne's freedom. But Miss Barry was pleased and she stood on her veranda and watched the buggy out of sight. Then she went back into her big house with a sigh. It seemed very lonely, Lacking those fresh, Young lives. Miss Barry was a rather selfish old lady, If the truth must be told, And she had never cared much for anybody but herself. She valued people only as they were of service to her. Or amused her. An had amused her, And consequently stood high in the old lady's good graces. But. . . Miss Barry found herself thinking less about Anne's quaint speeches than of her fresh enthusiasms, Her transparent emotions, Her little winning ways, And the sweetness of her eyes and lips. Cuthbert was an old fool when I heard she'd adopted a girl out of an orphan asylum, She said to herself, But I guess she didn't make much of a mistake after all. If I'd a child like Anne in the house all the time, I'd be a better and happier woman. Anne and Diana found the drive home as pleasant as the drive in. Pleasanter indeed, Since there was the delightful consciousness of home waiting at the end of it. All radiant and transfigured in her light. Every little cove along the curving road was a marvel of dancing ripples. The waves broke with a soft swish on the rocks below them, And the tang of the sea was in the strong, Fresh air. Oh, But it's good to be alive and to be going home, Breathed Anne. When she crossed the log bridge over the brook, The kitchen light of green gables winked her a friendly welcome back, And through the open door shone the hearth fire, Sending out its warm red glow athwart the chilly autumn night. Anne ran blithely up the hill and into the kitchen, Where a hot supper was waiting on the table. So you've got back, Said Marilla, Folding up her knitting. Yes! And, Oh, It's so good to be back, Said Anne joyously. I could kiss everything. Even to the clock. Marilla! A broiled chicken? You don't mean to say you cooked that for me? Yes, I did, Said Marilla. I thought you'd be hungry after such a drive and need something real appetising. Hurry and take off your things and we'll have supper as soon as Matthew comes in. I'm glad you've got back, I must say. It's been fearful lonesome here without you. And I never put in four longer days. After supper, Anne sat before the fire between Matthew and Marilla and gave them a full account of her visit. I've had a splendid time, " she concluded happily, And I feel that it marks an epoch in my life, But the best of it all was the coming home. Chapter 30. The Queen's class is organized. Marilla laid her knitting on her lap and leant back in her chair. Her eyes were tired. And she thought vaguely that she must see about having her glasses changed the next time she went to town, For her eyes had grown tired very often of late. It was nearly dark, For the full November twilight had fallen around Green Gables, And the only light in the kitchen came from the dancing red flames in the stove. Anne was curled up, Turk fashion, On the hearthrug, Gazing into that joyous glow where the sunshine of a hundred summers was being distilled from the maple cordwood. She had been reading but her book had slipped to the floor and now she was dreaming with a smile on her parted lips. Glittering castles in Spain were shaping themselves out of the mists and rainbows of her lively fancy. Adventures wonderful and enthralling were happening to her in Cloudland. Adventures that always turned out triumphantly and never involved her in scrapes like those of life. Marilla looked at her with a tenderness that would never have been suffered to reveal itself in any clearer light than that soft mingling of fireshine and shadow. The lesson of a love that should display itself easily in spoken word and open look was one Marilla could never learn. But she had learned to love this slim, Grey-eyed girl with an affection all the deeper and stronger from its very undemonstrativeness. Her love made her afraid of being unduly indulgent indeed. She had an uneasy feeling that it was rather sinful to set one's heart so intensely. On any human creature as she had set hers on Anne. And perhaps she performed a sort of unconscious penance for this by being stricter and more critical than if the girl had been less dear to her. Certainly, Anne herself had no idea how Marilla loved her. She sometimes thought, Wistfully, That Marilla was very hard to please, And distinctly lacking in sympathy and understanding. But she always checked the thoughts reproachfully, Remembering what she owed to Marilla. Anne, Said Marilla abruptly, Miss Stacy was here this afternoon when you were out with Diana. Anne came back from her other world with a start and a sigh. Was she? Oh. I'm so sorry I wasn't in. Why didn't you call me, Marilla? Diana and I were only over in the Haunted Wood. It's lovely in the woods now. All the little wood things, The ferns and the satin leaves and the crackerberries have gone to sleep, Just as if somebody had tucked them away until spring under a blanket of leaves. I think it was a little grey fairy with a rainbow scarf that came tiptoeing along the last moonlight night and did it. Diana wouldn't say much about that though. Diana has never forgotten the scolding her mother gave her about imagining ghosts into the haunted wood. It had a very bad effect on Diana's imagination. It blighted it. Mrs. Lind says Myrtle Bell is a blighted being. I asked Ruby Gillis why Myrtle was blighted. And Ruby said she guessed it was because her young man had gone back on her. Ruby Gillis thinks of nothing but young men. And the older she gets, The worse she is. Young men are all very well in their place, But it doesn't do to drag them into everything, Does it? Diana and I are thinking, Seriously, Of promising each other that we will never marry, But be nice old maids and live together forever. Diana hasn't quite made up her mind though because she thinks perhaps it would be nobler to marry some wild, Dashing, Wicked young man and reform him? Diana and I talk a great deal about serious subjects now, You know? We feel that we are so much older than we used to be that it isn't becoming to talk of childish matters. It's such a solemn thing to be almost 14, Marilla. Miss Stacy took all us girls who were in our teens down to the brook last Wednesday and talked to us about it. She said we couldn't be too careful what habits we formed and what ideals we acquired in our teens because by the time we were 20, Our characters would be developed and the foundation laid for our whole future life. And she said, If the foundation was shaky, We could never build anything really worthwhile on it. Diana and I talked the matter over coming home from school. We felt extremely solemn, Marilla. And we decided that we would try to be very careful indeed. And form respectable habits and learn all we could and be as sensible as possible. So that by the time we were 20, Our characters would be properly. Developed. It's. Perfectly. Cooling. To think of being. 20. Marilla. It sounds so fearfully old. And grown up. Why was Miss Stacy here this afternoon? That is what I want to tell you, Anne. If you'll ever give me a chance to get a word in edgewise. She was talking. About you? About me? " Anne looked rather scared. Then she flushed and exclaimed, I know what she was saying. I meant to tell you, Marilla. Honestly, I did, But I forgot. Miss Stacy caught me. Reading Ben-Hur in school yesterday afternoon when I should have been studying my Canadian history. Jane Andrews lent it to me. I was reading it at dinner hour and I had just got to the chariot race. When school went in, I was simply wild to know how it turned out. Although I felt sure Ben-Hur must win because it wouldn't be poetical justice if he didn't. So I spread the history open on my desk lid and then tucked Ben-Hur between the desk and my knee. I just looked as if I was studying Canadian history, You know, While all the while I was reveling in Ben-Hur. I was so interested in it that I never noticed Miss Stacy coming down the aisle until all at once I just looked up and there she was, Looking down at me, So reproachful-like. I can't tell you how ashamed I felt, Marilla, Especially when I heard Josie Pie giggling. Miss Stacy took Ben-Hur away. But she never said a word then. She kept me in at recess and talked to me. She said I had done very wrong in two respects. First, I was wasting the time I ought to have put on my studies. And secondly, I was deceiving my teacher in trying to make it appear I was reading a history when it was a storybook instead. I had never realised until that moment, Marilla, That. . . What I was doing was deceitful. I was. . . Shocked. I cried bitterly and asked Miss Stacy to forgive me. And I'd never do such a thing again. And I offered to do penance by never so much as looking at Ben-Hur for a whole week, Not even to see how the chariot race turned out. Miss Stacy said she wouldn't require that and she forgave me freely so I think it wasn't very kind of her to come up here to you about it, After all. Miss Stacy never mentioned such a thing to me, Anne. And it's only your guilty conscience that's the matter with you. You have no business. To be taking storybooks to school. You read too many novels. Anyhow, When I was a girl. . . I wasn't so much as allowed to look. Novel. Ow! How can you call Ben-Hur a novel? When it's really such a religious book, Protested Anne. Of course, It's. . . A little too exciting to be proper reading for Sunday. And I only read it on weekdays. And I never read any book now unless either Miss Stacy or Mrs. Allen think it is a proper book for a girl 13 and three quarters to read. Miss Stacy made me promise that. She found me reading a book one day called The Lurid Mystery of the Haunted Hall. It was one Ruby Gillis had lent me. And, Oh, Marilla. It was so fascinating. And creepy. It just. . . Curdled the blood in my veins. But Miss Stacy said it was a very silly, Unwholesome book. And she asked me not to read any more of it or any like it. I didn't mind promising not to read any more like it, But it was agonising. To give back that book without knowing how it turned out. But my love for Miss Stacy stood the test. And I did. It's really wonderful, Marilla, What you can do when you're truly anxious to please a certain person. Well. "'I guess I'll light the lamp and get to work, ' said Marilla. "'I see plainly that you don't want to hear. '" what Miss Stacy had to say. You're more interested in the sound of your own tongue. Than in anything else. Indeed, Marilla, I do want to hear it, Cried Anne contritely. I won't say another word, Not one. I know I talk too much, But I am really trying to overcome it, And although I say far too much, Yet if you only knew how many things I want to say and don't, You'd give me some credit for it. Please, Tell me, Marilla. Well. Miss Stacey wants to organise a class among her advanced students who mean to study for the entrance examination into Queen's. She intends to give them extra lessons for an hour after school. And she came to ask Matthew and me, If we would like to have you join it. What do you think about it yourself, Anne? Would you like to go to Queen's and pass for a teacher? Marilla! Anne straightened to her knees and clasped her hands, It's been the dream of my life. That is, For the last six months, Ever since Ruby and Jane began to talk of studying for the entrance, But I didn't say anything about it because I supposed it would be perfectly useless. I'd love to be a teacher. Won't it be dreadfully expensive? Mr Andrews says it cost him $150 to put Prissy through. Prissy wasn't a dunce in geometry. I guess you needn't worry about that part of it. When Matthew and I took you to bring up, We resolved we would do the best we could for you. And give you a good education. I believe in a girl being fitted to earn her own living, Whether she ever has to or not. You'll always have a home at Green Gables, As long as Matthew and I are here. But nobody knows what is going to happen in this uncertain world. And it's just as well to be prepared. You can join the Queen's class if you like, Anne. Oh, Marilla, Thank you! " Anne flung her arms about Marilla's waist and looked up earnestly into her face. I'm extremely grateful to you and Matthew. And I'll study as hard as I can and do my very best to be a credit to you. I warn you not to expect much in geometry, But I think I can hold my own in anything else if I work hard. I dare say you'll get along well enough. Miss Stacy says you are bright and diligent. Not for worlds would Marilla have told Anne just what Miss Stacy had said about her. That would have been to pamper vanity. You needn't rush to any extreme of killing yourself over your books. There is no hurry. You won't be ready to try the entrance for a year and a half yet, But it's well to begin in time. And be thoroughly grounded, Miss Stacy says. I shall take more interest than ever in my studies now, " said Anne blissfully, Because I have a purpose in life. Mr. Allen says everybody should have a purpose in life and pursue it faithfully. Only, He says, We must first make sure that It is a worthy purpose. I would call it a worthy purpose to want to be a teacher like Miss Stacy, Wouldn't you Marilla? I think it's a. . . Very noble profession. The Queen's class was organised in due time. Gilbert Blythe, Anne Shirley, Ruby Gillis, Jane Andrews, Josie Pye, Charlie Sloan and Moody Spurgeon McPherson joined it. Diana Barry did not, As her parents did not intend to send her to Queen's. This is an example. Seemed nothing short of a calamity to Anne. Never since the night on which Minnie Mae had had the croup had she and Diana been separated in anything. On the evening when the Queen's class first remained in school for the extra lessons, And Anne saw Diana go slowly out with the others to walk home alone through the birch path and violet bale, It was all the former could do to keep her seat and refrain from rushing impulsively after her chum. A lump came into her throat. And she hastily retired behind the pages of her uplifted Latin grammar to hide the tears in her eyes. Not for worlds would Anne have had Gilbert Blythe or Josie Pye see those tears. But oh, Marilla. I really felt that I had tasted the bitterness of death. As Mr. Allen said in his sermon last Sunday, When I saw Diana go out alone, She said mournfully that night, I thought, How splendid it would have been if Diana had only been going to study for the entrance too. But we can't have things perfect in this imperfect world, As Mrs. Lynde says. Mrs. Lynde isn't exactly a. . . Comforting person sometimes, But there's no doubt she says a great many very true things. And I think the Queen's class is going to be extremely interesting. Jane and Ruby are just going to study to be teachers. That is the height of their ambition. Ruby says she will only teach for two years after she gets through and then she intends to be married. Jane says she will devote her whole life to teaching and never, Never marry because you are paid a salary for teaching but a husband won't pay you anything and growls if you ask for a share in the egg and butter money? I expect Jane speaks from mournful experience, For Mrs Lin says that her father is a perfect old crank. And meaner than second skimmings. Josie Pye says she is just going to college for education's sake. Because she won't have to earn her own living. She says, Of course, It is different with orphans who are living on charity. They have to hustle. Moody Spurgeon is going to be a minister. Mrs Linde says he couldn't be anything else with a name like that to live up to. I hope it isn't wicked of me, Marilla, But really, The thought of Moody Spurgeon Being a minister? Makes me laugh. He's such a funny looking boy with that big fat face and his little blue eyes and his ears sticking out like flaps. But perhaps he will be more intellectual looking when he grows up. Charlie Sloane says he's going to go into politics and be a Member of Parliament. But Mrs Lynde says he'll never succeed at that because the Sloanes are all honest people. And it's only rascals that get on in politics nowadays. What? Is Gilbert Blythe going to be? Queried Marilla seeing that Anne was opening her Caesar. Are you? Don't happen to know what Gilbert Blythe's ambition in life is, If he has any, " said Anne scornfully. There was open rivalry between Gilbert and Anne now. Previously, The rivalry had been rather one-sided, But there was no longer any doubt that Gilbert was as determined to be first in class as Anne was. He was a foeman worthy of her steel. The other members of the class tacitly acknowledged their superiority and never dreamed of trying to compete with them. Since the day by the pond when she had refused to listen to his plea for forgiveness, Gilbert, Save for the aforesaid determined rivalry, Had evinced no recognition whatever of the existence of Anne Shirley. He talked and jested with the other girls, Exchanged books and puzzles with them. Discussed lessons and plans, Sometimes walked home with one or the other of them from prayer meeting or debating club. But Anne Shirley, He simply ignored. And Anne found out that it is not pleasant to be ignored. It was in vain that she told herself, With a toss of her head, That she did not care. Deep down in her wayward, Feminine little heart, She knew that she did care. And that if she had that chance of the Lake of Shining Waters again, She would answer very differently. All at once, As it seemed, And to her secret dismay, She found that the old resentment she had cherished against him was gone. Gone. Just when she most needed its sustaining power. It was in vain that she recalled every incident and emotion of that memorable occasion and tried to feel the old satisfying anger That day by the pond had witnessed its last spasmodic flicker. Anne realised that she had forgiven and forgotten without knowing it. But it was too late. And at least neither Gilbert nor Orwell. Anybody else, Not even Diana, Should ever suspect how sorry she was. And how much she wished she hadn't been so proud and horrid. She determined to shroud her feelings in deepest oblivion. And it may be stated here and now that she did it so successfully that Gilbert, Who possibly was not quite so indifferent as he seemed, Could not console himself with any belief that Anne felt his retaliatory scorn. The only poor comfort he had was that she snubbed Charlie Sloane. Unmercifully. Continually and undeservedly. Otherwise, The winter passed away in a round of pleasant duties and studies. For Anne, The days slipped by like golden beads on the necklace of the year. She was happy, Eager, Interested. There were lessons to be learned and honour to be won, Delightful books to read, New pieces to be practised for the Sunday school choir. Pleasant Saturday afternoons at the manse with Mrs Allen. And then, Almost before Anne realised it, Spring had come again. To Green Gables and all the world was a bloom once more. Studies paled just a wee bit then. The Queen's class, Left behind in school while the others scattered to green lanes and leafy woodcuts and meadow byways, Looked wistfully out of the windows and discovered that Latin verbs and French exercises had somehow lost the tang and zest they had possessed in the crisp winter months. Even Anne and Gilbert lagged and grew indifferent. Teacher and taught were alike glad when the term was ended. And the glad vacation days stretched rosily before them. But you've done good work this past year, Miss Stacy told them on the last evening, And you deserve a good, Jolly vacation. Have the best time you can in the out-of-townership store world and lay in a good stock of health and vitality and ambition to carry you through next year. It will be the tug of war, You know, The last year before the entrance. Are you going to be back next year, Miss Stacy? Asked Josie Pye. Josie Pye never scrupled to ask questions. In this instance, The rest of the class felt grateful to her. None of them would have dared to ask it of Miss Stacy, But all wanted to, For there had been alarming rumours running at large through the school for some time that Miss Stacy was not coming back the next year, That she had been offered a position in the grade school of her own home district and meant to accept? The Queen's class listened in breathless suspense for her answer. Yes, I think I will, " said Miss Stacy. I thought of taking another school, But I have decided to come back to Avonlea to tell the truth. I've grown so interested in my pupils here that I found I couldn't leave them. So I'll stay and see you through. Hurrah! Said Moody Spurgeon. Moody Spurgeon had never been so carried away by his feelings before. And he blushed uncomfortably every time he thought about it for a week. Oh, I'm so glad, Said Anne with shining eyes. Dear Stacey, It would be perfectly dreadful if you didn't come back. I don't believe I could have the heart to go on with my studies at all. If another teacher came here? When Anne got home that night, She stacked all her textbooks away in an old trunk in the attic, Locked it, And threw the key into the blanket box. I'm not even going to look. At a school book in vacation, She told Marilla. I've studied as hard all the term as I possibly could. And I've poured over that geometry until I know every proposition in the first book off by heart, Even when. . . The letters are changed. I just feel. . . Tired of everything sensible. And I'm going to let my imagination run riot for the summer. Oh, You needn't be alarmed, Marilla. I'll only let it run riot within reasonable limits. But I want to have a real good jolly time this summer. For maybe it's the last summer I'll be a little girl. Mrs Lin says that if I keep stretching out, Next year, As I've done this, I'll have to put on longer skirts. She says I'm all running to legs and eyes. And when I put on longer skirts. . . I shall feel that I have to live up to them and be worthy of them. Very dignified. It won't even do to believe in fairies then, I'm afraid. So. . . I'm going to believe in them with all my whole heart this summer. I think we're going to have a very gay vacation. Ruby Gillis is going to have a birthday party soon and there's the Sunday school picnic and the missionary concert next month. And Mr Barry says that some evening he'll take Diana and me over to the White Sands Hotel and have dinner there. They have dinner there in the evening, You know? Jane Andrews was over once last summer and she says it was a dazzling sight to see the electric lights and the flowers and all the lady guests in such beautiful dresses. Jane says it was her first glimpse into high life. And she'll never forget it, To her dying day. Mrs Lind came up the next afternoon to find out why Marilla had not been at the aid meeting on Thursday. When Marilla was not at aid meeting, People knew there was something wrong at Green Gables. Matthew had a bad spell with his heart Thursday, Marilla explained, And I didn't feel like leaving him. Oh yes, He's all right again now. But he takes them spells oftener than he used to. And I'm anxious about him. The doctor says he must be careful to avoid excitement. That's easy enough for Matthew doesn't go about looking for excitement by any means and never did but He's not to do any very heavy work either. And you might as well tell Matthew not to breathe as not to work. Come and lay off your things, Rachel. You'll stay to tea? Well. . . Seeing you're so pressing, Perhaps I might as well stay, " said Mrs Rachel, Who had not the slightest intention of doing anything else. Criticism. I must say, Anne has turned out a real smart girl. Admitted Mrs. Rachel. As Marilla accompanied her to the end of the lane at sunset. She must be a great help to you. She is, Said Marilla, And she's real steady and reliable now. I used to be afraid she'd never get over her feather-brained ways, But she has. And I wouldn't be afraid to trust her in anything now. I never would have thought she'd have turned out so well that first day I was here, Three years ago, " said Mrs. Rachel. Lawful heart! Shall I ever forget that tantrum of hers! When I went home that night, I says to Thomas, Says I, The step she's took. But I was mistaken, And I'm real glad of it. I ain't one of those kind of people, Marilla, As can never be brought to own up that they've made a mistake. No, That never was my way, Thank goodness. I did make a mistake in judging Anne, But it weren't no wonder for Or an odder, Unexpected witch of a child there never was in this world. That's what. There was no ciphering her out by the rules that worked with other children. It's nothing short of wonderful how she's improved these three years, But especially in looks. She's a real pretty girl got to be. Though, I can't. I can't say I'm overly partial to that pale, Big-eyed style myself. I like more snap and colour, Like Diana Barry has or Ruby Gillis. Ruby Gillis's looks are real showy. But somehow. . . I don't know how it is, But when Anne and them are together, Though she ain't half as handsome, She makes them look kind of. . . Common. Overdone. Something like them white dune lilies she calls Narcissus. Alongside. Of the big red peonies. That's what. Chapter 31 Where the Brook and River Meet Anne had her good summer and enjoyed it wholeheartedly. She and Diana fairly lived outdoors revelling in all the delights that Lover's Lane and the Dryad's Bubble and Willowmere and Victoria Island afforded. Marilla offered no objections to Anne's gypsyings. The Spencervale doctor who had come the night Minnie May had the croup met Anne at the house of a patient one afternoon early in vacation, Looked her over sharply, Screwed up his mouth, Shook his head, And sent a message to Marilla Cuthbert by another person. It was, Keep that red-headed girl of yours in the open air all summer and don't let her read books. Until she gets more spring into her step. This message frightened Marilla wholesomely. She read Anne's death warrant by consumption in it, Unless it was scrupulously obeyed. As a result, Anne had the golden summer of her life, As far as freedom and frolic went. She walked, Rode, Buried, And dreamed to her heart's content. And when September came, She was bright-eyed and alert, With a step that would have satisfied the Spencer Vale doctor, And a heart full of ambition and zest. Once more. I feel just like studying with might and mane, " she declared as she brought her books down from the attic. Oh, You good old friends. I'm glad to see your honest faces once more. Yes, Even you, Geometry. I've had a perfectly beautiful summer, Marilla. And now I'm rejoicing as a strong man to run a race. As Mr. Allen said last Sunday, Doesn't Mr. Allen preach magnificence? And sermons. Mrs. Lynde said he is improving every day. And the first thing we know, Some city church will gobble him up and then we'll be left and have to turn to and break in another green preacher. But I don't see the use of meeting trouble halfway. Do you, Marilla? I think it would be be better just to enjoy Mr. Allen while we have him. If I were a man, I think I'd be a minister. They can have such an influence for good. If their theology is sound. It must be. To preach splendid sermons and stir your hearers' hearts. Why can't women be ministers, Marilla? I asked Mrs Linde that and she was shocked and said it would be a scandalous thing. She said there might be female ministers in the states and she believed there was but thank goodness we hadn't got to that stage in Canada yet and she hoped we never would. I don't see why. I think women would make splendid ministers. When there is a social to be got up, Or a church tea, Or anything else to raise money. The women have to turn to and do the work. I'm sure Mrs Lind can pray every bit as well as Superintendent Bell. And I've no doubt she could preach too. With a little practice. Yes, I believe she could, Said Marilla dryly. She does plenty of unofficial preaching, As it is. Nobody has much of a chance to go wrong in Avonlea with Rachel to oversee them. Marilla, Said Anne in a burst of confidence, I want to tell you something and ask you what you think about it. It has worried me terribly. On Sunday afternoons. That is when I think specially about such matters. I do really want to. To be good. And when I'm with you, Or Mrs. Allen, Or Miss Stacy, I want it more than ever. And I want to do just what would please you and what you would approve of, But. . . Mostly when I'm with Mrs. Lynde. I feel. . . Desperately. Wicked! And as if I wanted to go and do the very thing she tells me I oughtn't to do. I feel. Irresistibly tempted to do it. Now, What do you think is the reason I feel like that? Do you think it's because I'm really. . . Bad and unregenerate. Marilla looked dubious for a moment, Then She laughed. If you are. I guess I am too, Anne. For Rachel often has that very effect on me. I sometimes think she'd have more of an influence for good, As you say yourself, If she didn't keep nagging people to do right. There should have been a special commandment against nagging. But there, I shouldn't talk so. Rachel is a good Christian woman. And she means well. There isn't a kinder soul in Avonlea, And she never shirks her share of work. I'm very glad you feel the same, Said Anne decidedly. It's so encouraging. I shan't worry so much over that after this, But I dare say there'll be other things to worry me. They keep coming up new all the time. Things to perplex you, You know? You settle one question and. . . There's another, Right after. There are so many things to be thought over and decided when you're beginning to grow up. It keeps me busy all the time, Thinking them over and deciding what is right. It's a serious thing to grow up, Isn't it, Marilla? But when I have such good friends as you and Matthew and Mrs. Allen and Miss Stacy, I ought to grow up successfully. And I'm sure it will be my own fault if I don't. I feel it's a great responsibility. Because I have only the one chance. If I don't grow up right, I can't go back and begin over again. I've grown two inches this summer, Marilla. Mr Gillis measured me at Ruby's party. I'm so glad you made my new dresses longer. That dark green one is so pretty and it was sweet of you to put on the flounce. Of course, I know it wasn't really necessary but Flounces are so stylish this fall. And Josie Pye has flounces on all her dresses. I know. I'll be able to study better because of mine. I shall have such a comfortable feeling deep down in my mind about that flounce. It's worth something to have that, Admitted Marilla. Miss Stacy came back to Avonlea School and found all her pupils eager for work once more. Especially did the Queen's class gird up their loins for the fray. For at the end of the coming year, Dimly shadowing their pathway already, Loomed up that fateful thing known as the entrance, At the thought of which one and all felt their hearts sink into their very shoes. Suppose they did not pass. That thought was doomed to haunt Anne through the waking hours of that winter, Sunday afternoons inclusive, To the almost entire exclusion of moral and theological problems. When Anne had bad dreams, She found herself staring miserably at pass lists of the entrance exams, Where Gilbert Blythe's name was blazoned at the top, And in which hers did not appear. At all. But it was a jolly. Busy, Happy, Swift-flying winter. Schoolwork was as interesting, Class rivalry as absorbing, As of yore, New worlds of thought, Feeling and ambition, Fresh, Fascinating fields of unexplored knowledge seemed to be opening out before Anne's eager eyes. Hills peeped o'er hill, And alps on alps arose. Much of all this was due to Miss Stacy's tactful, Careful, Broad-minded guidance. She led her class to think and explore and discover for themselves. And encouraged straying from the old beaten paths, To a degree that quite shocked Mrs Linde and the school trustees who viewed all innovations on established methods rather dubiously. Apart from her studies, Anne expanded socially. For Marilla, Mindful of the Spencer Vale Doctor's dictum, No longer vetoed occasional outings. The debating club flourished and gave several concerts There were one or two parties almost verging on grown-up affairs. There were sleigh drives and skating frolics galore. Between times, Anne grew, Shooting up so rapidly that Marilla was astonished one day, When they were standing side by side, To find the girl was taller than Anne. Than herself. Why? Ah! How you've grown, She said, Almost unbelievingly. A sigh followed on the words. Marilla felt a queer regret over Anne's inches. The child she had learned to love had vanished somehow. And here was this tall, Serious-eyed girl of fifteen. With the thoughtful brows and the proudly poised little head in her place. Marilla loved the girl as much as she had loved the child but She was conscious of a queer, Sorrowful sense of loss. And that night, When Anne had gone to prayer meeting with Diana, Marilla. . . Sat alone in the wintry twilight. And indulged in the weakness of a cry. Matthew, Coming in with a lantern, Caught her at it. And gazed at her in such consternation that Marilla had to laugh through her tears. I was thinking about Anne, " she explained. She's got to be such a big girl. And she'll probably be away from us next winter. I'll Miss her. Terrible. She'll be able to come home often, Comforted Matthew, To whom Anne was as yet and always would be the little eager girl he had brought home from Bright River on that June evening four years before. The branch railroad will be built to Karmody by that time. It won't be the same thing as having her here all the time, Side Marilla gloomily. Determined to enjoy her luxury of grief uncomforted. But there, Men can't understand these things. There were other changes in Anne, No less real than the physical change. For one thing, She became much quieter. Perhaps she thought all the more, And dreamed as much as ever, But she certainly talked less. Marilla noticed. And commented on this also. You don't chatter half as much as you used to, Anne. Nor use half as many big words. What has come over you? Anne coloured and laughed a little as she dropped her book and looked dreamily out of the window where big fat red buds were bursting out on the creeper in response to the lure of the spring sunshine. I don't know. I don't want to talk as much, She said, Denting her chin thoughtfully with her forefinger. It's nicer to think dear, Pretty thoughts and keep them in one's heart like treasures. I don't like to have them laughed at or wondered over. And somehow I don't want to use big words anymore. It's almost a pity, Isn't it? Now that I'm really growing big enough to say them if I did want to. It's fun to be almost grown up in some ways but It's not the kind of fun I expected, Marilla. There's so much to learn and do and think that There isn't time for big words. Besides, Miss Stacy says the short ones are much stronger and better. She makes us write all our essays as simply as possible. It was hard at first. I was so used to crowding in all the fine big words I could think of. And I thought of any number of them, But I've got used to it now. And I see it's so much better. What has become of your story club? I haven't heard you speak of it for a long time. The Story Club. Isn't in existence any longer. We hadn't time for it. And anyhow, I think we had got tired of it. It was silly to be writing about love and murder and elopements and mysteries. Miss Stacy sometimes has us write a story for training and composition but She won't let us write anything but what might happen in Avonlea in our own lives. And she criticizes it very sharply. And makes us criticise our own, Too. I never thought my compositions had so many faults until I began to look for them myself. I felt so ashamed I wanted to give up altogether. But Miss Stacey said I could learn to write well if I only trained myself to be my own severest critic. And so I am trying to. You've only two more months before the entrance, Said Marilla. Do you think you'll be able to get through? Anne shivered. I don't know. Sometimes. I think I'll be alright. And then I get horribly afraid. We've studied hard. And Miss Stacy has drilled us thoroughly. But we might get through for all that. We've each got a stumbling block. Mine is geometry of course and Jane's is Latin and Ruby and Charlie's is algebra and Josie's is arithmetic. Moody Spurgeon says he feels it in his bones that he is going to fail in English history Ms Stacey is going to give us examinations in June. Just as hard as we'll have at the entrance and mark us just as strictly. So we'll have some idea. I wish it was all over, Marilla. It haunts me. Sometimes I wake up in the night and wonder what I'll do if I don't pass. Why, Go to school next year and try again, Said Marilla unconcernedly. Ugh. I don't believe I'd have the heart for it. It would be such a disgrace to fail. Especially if guilt drives you. The others past. And I get so nervous. In an examination. That I'm likely to make a mess of it. I wish I had nerves like Jane Andrews. Nothing rattles her. An side. And dragging her eyes from the witcheries of the spring world, The beckoning day of breeze and blue and the green things up springing in the garden, Buried herself resolutely in her book. There would be other springs. But if she did not succeed in passing the entrance, Anne felt convinced that she would never recover sufficiently to enjoy them. Chapter 32. The pass list is out. With the end of June came the close of the term and the close of Miss Stacy's rule in Avonlea School. Anne and Diana walked home that evening feeling very sober indeed. Red eyes and damp handkerchiefs bore convincing testimony to the fact that Miss Stacy's farewell words must have been quite as touching as Mr Phillips had been under similar circumstances three years before. Diana looked back at the schoolhouse from the foot of the spruce hill and sighed deeply. It does seem as if it was the end of everything, Doesn't it? " she said dismally. "'You oughtn't to feel half as badly as I do, ' said Anne, Hunting vainly for a dry spot on her handkerchief. "'You'll be back again next winter, But I suppose I've left the dear old school forever—if I have good luck, That is. It won't be a bit the same. Miss Stacy won't be there, Nor you, Nor Jane, Nor Ruby, Probably. I shall have to sit all alone, For I couldn't bear to have another desk mate after you. Oh, We have had jolly times, Haven't we, Anne? It's dreadful to think. They're all over. Two big tears rolled down by Diana's nose. If you would stop crying, I could, " said Anne imploringly. Just as soon as I put away my hanky, I see you brooming up and that starts me off again. As Mrs Linde says. If you can't be cheerful, Be as cheerful as you can. After all. I dare say I'll be back next year. This is one of the times I know I'm not going to pass. They're getting alarmingly frequent. Why, You came out splendidly in the exams Miss Stacy gave. Yes, But those exams didn't make me nervous. When I think of the real thing. I can't imagine. What a horrid. . . Cold. Fluttery feeling comes round my heart. And then. . . My number is 13. And Josie Pie says, It's so unlucky. I am not superstitious. And I know it can make no difference, But still. I wish it wasn't 13. I do wish I was going in with you, Said Diana. Wouldn't we have a perfectly elegant time? But I suppose you'll have to cram in the evenings. No, Miss Stacy has made us promise not to open a book at all. She says it would only tire and confuse us and we are to go out walking and not think about the exams at all and go to bed early. It's good advice, But I expect it will be hard to follow. Good advice is apt to be, I think. Prissy Andrews told me that she sat up half the night every night of her entrance week and crammed for dear life. And I had determined to sit up at least as long as she did. It was so kind of your Aunt Josephine to ask me to stay at Beachwood while I'm in town. You'll write to me while you're in, Won't you? I'll write Tuesday night and tell you how the first day goes. Promised Anne. I'll be haunting the post office Wednesday, Vowed Diana. Anne went to town the following Monday. And on Wednesday, Diana haunted the post office, As agreed, And got her letter. Dearest Diana, Wrote Anne. Here it is, Tuesday night, And I'm writing this in the library at Beechwood. Last night I was horribly lonesome, All alone in my room, And wished so much you were with me. I couldn't cram because I'd promised Miss Stacy not to, But It was as hard to keep from opening my history as it used to be to keep from reading a story before my lessons were learned. This morning, Miss Stacy came for me. And we went to the academy, Calling for Jane and Ruby and Josie on our way. Ruby asked me to feel her hands and they were as cold as ice. Josie said I looked as if I hadn't slept a wink. And she didn't believe I was strong enough to stand the grind of the teacher's course, Even if I did get through. There are times and seasons, Even yet, When I don't feel that I've made any great headway in learning to like Josie Pie. When we reached the academy, There were scores of students there from all over the island. The first person we saw was Moody Spurgeon, Sitting on the steps and muttering away to himself. Jane asked him what on earth he was doing and he said he was repeating the multiplication table over and over to steady his nerves and for pity's sake not to interrupt him because if he stopped for a moment he got frightened and forgot everything he ever knew. But the multiplication table kept all his facts firmly in their proper place. When we were assigned to our rooms, Miss Stacy had to leave us. Jane and I sat together and Jane was so composed that I envied her. No need of the multiplication table for good, Steady, Sensible Jane. I wondered if I looked as I felt, And if they could hear my heart thumping clear across the room. Then a man came in and began distributing the English examination sheets. My hands grew cold then, And my head fairly whirled around as I picked it up. Just one awful moment, Diana, I felt exactly as I did four years ago when I asked Marilla if I might stay at Queen Gable's. And then. . . Everything cleared up in my mind and my heart began beating again. I forgot to say that it had stopped altogether. For I knew. I could do something with that paper anyhow. At noon we went home for dinner and then back again for history in the afternoon. The history was a pretty hard paper and I got dreadfully mixed up in the dates. Still, I think I did. Fairly well today. Oh Diana, Tomorrow the geometry exam comes off and when I think of it, It takes every bit of determination I possess to keep from opening my euclid. If I thought the multiplication table would help me any, I would recite it from now till tomorrow morning. I went down to see the other girls this evening. On my way, I met Moody Spurgeon, Wandering distractedly around. He said he knew he had failed in history and he was born to be a disappointment to his parents. And he was going home on the morning train. And it would be easier to be a carpenter than a minister anyhow. I cheered him up and persuaded him to stay. To the end. Because It would be unfair to Miss Stacy if he didn't. Sometimes I have wished I was born a boy. But when I see moody Spurgeon. . . I'm always glad I'm a girl and not his sister. Ruby was in hysterics when I reached their boarding house. She had just discovered a fearful mistake she had made in her English paper. When she recovered, We went uptown and had an ice cream. How we wished you had been with us. Oh, Diana. If only. The geometry examination were over. But there. As mrs lynde would say the sun will go on rising and setting whether i fail in geometry or not that is true but not especially comforting I think I'd rather it didn't go on if I failed. Yours, Devotedly, Anne. The geometry examination and all the others were over in due time and Anne arrived home on Friday evening, Rather tired, But with an air of chastened triumph about her. Diana was over at Green Gables when she arrived and they met as if they had been parted for years. You old darling! It's perfectly splendid to see you back again. It seems like an age since you went to town. And, Oh, Anne, How did you get along? Pretty well, I think, In everything but the geometry. I don't know whether I passed in it or not. I have a creepy, Cruelly, Pre-sentiment that I didn't. Oh, How good it is to be back! Green Gables is the dearest, Loveliest spot in the world. How do the others do? The girls say they know they didn't pass, But. . . I think they did pretty well. Josie says the geometry was so easy a child of 10 could do it. Moody Spurgeon still thinks he failed in history and Charlie says he failed in algebra but We don't really know anything about it and won't until the past list is out. That won't be for a fortnight. Fancy living a fortnight in such suspense. I wish I could go to sleep and never wake up until it is over. Diana knew it would be useless to ask how Gilbert Blythe had fared, So she merely said, You'll pass all right. Don't worry. I'd rather not pass at all than not come out pretty well up on the list, Flashed Anne, By which she meant, And Diana knew she meant, That success would be incomplete and bitter if she did not come out ahead of Gilbert Blythe. With this end in view, Anne had strained every nerve during the examinations. So had Gilbert. They had met and passed each other on the street a dozen times without any sign of recognition. And every time Anne had held her head a little higher and wished a little little more earnestly that she had made friends with Gilbert when he asked her. And vowed a little more determinedly to surpass him in the examination. She knew that all Avonlea Jr. Was wondering which would come out first. She even knew that Jimmy Glover and Ned Wright had a bet on the question. And that Josie Pye had said there was no doubt in the world that Gilbert would be first. And she felt that her humiliation would be unbearable if she failed. But she had another and nobler motive for wishing to do well. She wanted to pass high for the sake of Matthew and Marilla, Especially Matthew. Matthew had declared to her his conviction that she would beat the whole island. Island. That, Anne felt, Was something it would be foolish to hope for, Even in the wildest dreams. She did hope fervently that she would be among the first ten at least. So that she might see Matthew's kindly brown eyes gleam with pride in her achievement? That, She felt, Would be a sweet reward indeed for all her hard work and patient grubbing among unimaginative equations and conjugations. At the end of the fortnight, Anne took to haunting the post office also, In the distracted company of Jane, Ruby and Josie, Opening the Charlottetown dailies with shaking hands and cold, Sink-away feelings as bad as any experienced during the entrance week. Charlie and Gilbert were not above doing this too, But Moody Spurgeon stayed resolutely away. I haven't got the grit to go there and look at a paper in cold blood, " he told Anne. I'm just going to wait until somebody comes and tells me suddenly whether I've passed or not. When three weeks? Had gone by without the pass list appearing, Anne began to feel that she really couldn't stand the strain much longer. Her appetite failed. And her interest in Avonlea doings languished. Mrs Lind wanted to know what else you could expect with a Tory Superintendent of Education at the Head of Affairs. And Matthew, Noting Anne's paleness and indifference and the lagging steps that bore her home from the post office every afternoon, Began seriously to wonder if he hadn't better vote grit at the next election. But one evening the news came. Anne was sitting at her open window, For the time forgetful of the woes of examinations and the cares of the world, As she drank in the beauty of the summer dusk. Sweet-scented, With flower-breaths from the garden below, And sibilant and rustling from the stir of poplars. The eastern sky above the firs was flushed faintly pink from the reflection of the west. And Anne was wondering, Dreamily, If the spirit of colour looked like that. When she saw Diana come flying down through the firs over the log bridge and up the slope with a fluttering newspaper in her hand, Anne sprang to her feet. Knowing at once what that paper contained, The pass list was out. Her head whirled and her heart beat until it hurt her. She could not move a step. It seemed an hour to her before Diana came rushing along the hall and burst into the room without even knocking. So great was her excitement. You've passed! " she cried. Passed! The very first! You and Gilbert both! You're ties! But your name is first. Oh, I'm so proud! Diana flung the paper on the table and herself on Anne's bed. Utterly breathless and incapable of further speech, Anne, Lighted the lamp. Oversetting the match safe and using up half a dozen matches before her shaking hands could accomplish the task. Then she snatched up the paper. Yes, She had passed. There was her name at the very top of a list of 200 That moment was worth living for. You did just splendidly, Anne. Puffed Diana, Recovering sufficiently to sit up and speak. For Anne, Starry-eyed and rapt, Had not uttered a word. Father brought the paper home from Bright River not 10 minutes ago. It came out on the afternoon train, You know, And won't be here till tomorrow by mail. And when I saw the pass list, I just rushed over like a wild horse. Old thing. You've all passed. Every one of you. Moody Spurgeon and all. Although he's conditioned in history. Jane and Ruby did pretty well. They're halfway up. And so did Charlie. Josie just scraped through with three marks to spare, But you'll see, She'll put on as many airs as if she'd led. Won't Miss Stacy be delighted? Anne! What does it feel like to see your name? At the head of a past list like that. If it were me, I know I'd go crazy with joy. I'm pretty nit-crazy as it is but You're as calm and cool as a spring evening. I'm. . . Just. Dazzled. Inside. Said Anne. I want to say. A hundred things. I can't find words to say them in. Ever. Dreamed of this. Yes, I did too. Just once. I let myself think once, What if I should come out first? Quakingly, You know, For it seemed so vain and presumptuous to think I could lead the island. Excuse me a minute, Diana. I must run right out to the field to tell Matthew, Then we'll go up the road and tell the good news to the others. They hurried to the hayfield below the barn where Matthew was coiling hay. And as luck would have it, Mrs. Linde was talking to Marilla at the lane fence. Oh, Matthew, Exclaimed Anne, I've passed, And I'm first, Or one of the first. I'm not vain, But I'm thankful. Well now, I always said it, Said Matthew, Gazing at the pass list delightedly. I knew you could beat them all, Easy. "'You've done pretty well, I must say, Anne, ' said Marilla, Trying to hide her extreme pride in Anne from Mrs Rachel's critical eye. But that good soul said heartily, I just guess she has done well. And far be it from me to be backward in saying it, You're a credit to your friends, Anne, That's what. And we're all proud of you. That night, Anne, Who had wound up the delightful evening with a serious little talk with Mrs Allen at the manse, Knelt sweetly by her open window, In a great sheen of moonshine, And murmured a prayer of gratitude and aspiration that came straight from her heart. There was in it thankfulness for the past and reverent petition for the future. And when she slept on her white pillow, Her dreams were as fair and bright and beautiful as maidenhood might desire. Chapter 33 The Hotel Concert Put on your white organdy by all means Anne, Advised Diana decidedly. They were together in the East Gable chamber. Outside, It was only twilight. A lovely yellowish-green twilight with a clear blue cloudless sky. A big round moon, Slowly deepening from her pallid luster into burnished silver, Hung over the haunted wood. The air was full of sweet summer sounds. Sleepy birds twittering, Freakish breezes, Faraway voices and laughter. But in Anne's room, The blind was drawn and the lamp lighted for An important toilet was being made. The East Gable was a very different place from what it had been on that night four years before when Anne had felt its bareness penetrate to the marrow of her spirit with its inhospitable chill. Changes had crept in. Marilla conniving at them resignedly, Until it was as sweet and dainty a nest as a young girl could desire. The velvet carpet with the pink roses. And the pink silk curtains of Anne's early visions had certainly never materialised, But her dreams had kept pace with her growth and it is not probable she lamented them. The floor was covered with a pretty matting and the curtains that softened the high window and fluttered in the vagrant breezes were of pale green art muslin. The walls hung not with gold and silver brocade tapestry but with a dainty apple blossom paper were adorned with a few good pictures given an by mrs allen Miss Stacy's photograph occupied the place of honour, And Anne made a sentimental point of keeping fresh flowers on the bracket under it. Tonight, A spike of white lilies faintly perfumed the room like the dream of a fragrance. There was no mahogany furniture, But there was a white-painted bookcase filled with books, A cushioned wicker rocker, A toilet table befrilled with white muslin, A quaint gilt-framed mirror with chubby pink cupids and purple grapes painted over its arched top, That used to hang in the spare room and a low white bed. Anne was dressing for a concert at the White Sands Hotel. The guests had got it up in aid of the Charlottetown Hospital. And had hunted out all the available amateur talent in the surrounding districts to help it along. Bertha Sampson and Pearl Clay of the White Sands Baptist Choir had been asked to sing a duet. Milton Clarke of Newbridge was to give a violin solo. Winnie Adela Blair of Carmody was to sing a scotch ballad. And Laura Spencer of Spencer Vale and Anne Shirley of Avonlea were to recite. As Anne would have said at one time, It was an epoch in her life. And she was deliciously a thrill with the excitement of it. Matthew was in the seventh heaven of gratified pride over the honor conferred on his Anne. And Marilla was not far behind, Although she would have died rather than admit it, And said she didn't think it was very proper for a lot of young folks to be gadding over to the hotel without any responsible person with them. Anne and Diana were to drive over with Jane Andrews and her brother Billy. In their double-seated buggy. And several other Avonlea girls and boys were going too. There was a party of visitors expected out from town and after the concert a supper was to be given to the performers. Really think the organdy will be best. Queried Anne anxiously. I don't think it's as pretty as my blue-flowered muslin. And it certainly isn't so fashionable. But it suits you ever so much better, Said Diana. It's so soft and frilly and clinging. The muslin is stiff and makes you look too dressed up. But the organdy seems as if it grew on you. And side and yielded. Diana was beginning to have a reputation for notable taste in dressing. And her advice on such subjects was much sought after. She was looking very pretty herself. On this particular night, In a dress of the lovely wild rose pink from which Anne was forever debarred. But she was not to take any part in the concert, So her appearance was of minor importance. All her pains were bestowed upon Anne. Who, She vowed, Must die. For the credit of Avonlea, Be dressed and combed and adorned to the Queen's taste. Pull out that frill a little more. So. Here, Let me tie your sash. Now, For your slippers. I'm going to braid your hair in two thick braids and tie them halfway up with big white bows. No, Don't pull out a single curl over your forehead. Just have the soft part. There is no way you do your hair suits you so well, Anne. And Mrs. Allen says you look like a Madonna when you part it so. I shall fasten this little white house rose just behind your ear. There was just one on my bush and I saved it for you. Shall I put my pearl beads on? Asked Anne. Matthew brought me a string from town last week and I know he'd like to see them on me. Diana pursed up her lips, Put her black head on one side critically. And finally pronounced in favour of the beads, Which were thereupon tied around Anne's slim, Milk-white throat. Touch and air. I suppose it's your figure. I am just a dumpling. I've always been afraid of it and now I know it is so. Well, I suppose I shall just have to resign myself to it. But you have such dimples, Said Anne, Smiling affectionately into the pretty vivacious face so near her own. Lovely dimples, Like little dents in cream. I have given up all hope of dimples. My dimple dream will never come true. But so many of my dreams have that I mustn't complain. Am I all ready now? All ready, Assured Diana, As Marilla appeared in the doorway, A gaunt figure with greyer hair than of yore and no fewer angles, But with a much softer face. Come right in and look at our elocutionist Marilla. Doesn't she look lovely? Marilla emitted a sound between a sniff and a grunt. She looks neat and proper. I like that way of fixing her hair but I expect she'll ruin that dress driving over there in the dust and dew with it. And it looks most too thin for these damp nights. Organdy's the most unserviceable stuff in the world anyhow and I told Matthew so when he got it but There is no use in saying anything to Matthew nowadays. Time was when he would take my advice, But now he just buys things for Anne regardless. And the clerks at Karmody know they can palm anything off on him. Just let them tell him a thing is pretty and fashionable and Matthew plunks his money down for it. Mind you keep your skirt clear of the wheel, Anne. And put your warm jacket on. Then Marilla stalked downstairs. Thinking proudly how sweet Anne looked with that one moonbeam from the forehead to the crown. And regretting that she could not go to the concert herself to hear her girl recite. I wonder if it is too damp for my dress, Said Anne anxiously. Not a bit of it, Said Diana, Pulling up the window blind. It's a perfect night and there won't be any dew. Look at the moonlight. I'm so glad my window looks east into the sun rising, Said Anne, Going over to Diana. It's so splendid to see the morning coming up over those long hills and glowing through those sharp fur tops. It's new every morning, And I feel as if I washed my very soul in that bath of earliest sunshine. Oh Diana, I love this little room so dearly. I don't know how I'll get along without it. When I go to town next month. Don't speak of your going away tonight, Begged Diana. I don't want to think of it. It makes me so miserable. And I do want to have a good time this evening. What are you going to recite, Anne? And are you nervous? Not a bit. I've recited so often in public I don't mind at all now. I've decided to give the maiden's vow. It's so pathetic. Laura Spencer is going to give a comic recitation. But I'd rather make people cry than laugh. What will you recite if they encore you? They won't dream of encoring me, Scoffed Anne, Who was not without her own secret hopes that they would, And already visioned herself telling Matthew all about it at the next morning's breakfast table. There are Billy and Jane. Now, I hear the wheels. Come on. Billy Andrews insisted that Anne should ride on the front seat with him. So she unwillingly climbed up. She would have much preferred to sit back with the girls, Where she could have laughed and chattered to her heart's content. There was not much of either laughter or chatter in Billy. He was a big, Fat, Stolid youth of twenty, With a round, Expressionless face and a painful lack of conversational gifts. But he admired Anne immensely, And was puffed up with pride over the prospect of driving to White Sands with that slim, Upright figure beside him. Anne, By dint of talking over her shoulder to the girls, And occasionally passing a sop of civility to Billy, Who grinned and chuckled and never could think of any reply until it was too late, Contrived to enjoy the drive. In spite of all. It was a night for enjoyment. The road was full of buggies, All bound for the hotel, And laughter, Silver clear, Echoed and re-echoed along it. When they reached the hotel, It was a blaze of light from top to bottom. They were met by the ladies of the concert committee, One of whom took Anne off to the performers' dressing room, Which was filled with the members of a Charlottetown symphony club. Among whom Anne felt suddenly shy and frightened and contrified. Her dress, Which in the East Gable had seemed so dainty and pretty now seemed Simple. And plain. Too simple and plain, She thought. Among all the silks and laces. That glistened and rustled around her. What were her pearl beads compared to the diamonds of the big handsome lady near her? And how poor her one wee white rose must look beside all the hothouse flowers the others wore. Anne laid her hat and jacket away and shrank miserably into a corner. She wished herself back in the white room at Green Gables. It was still worse on the platform of the big concert hall of the hotel where she presently found herself. The electric lights dazzled her eyes. The perfume, And hum. Bewildered her. She wished she was sitting down in the audience with Diana and Jane, Who seem to be having a splendid time away at the back. She was wedged in between a stout lady in pink silk and a tall, Scornful-looking girl in a white lace dress. The stout lady occasionally turned her head squarely around and surveyed Anne through her eyeglasses until Anne, Acutely sensitive of being so scrutinised, Felt that she must scream aloud. And the white lace girl kept talking audibly to her next neighbour about the country bumpkins and rustic bells in the audience, Languidly anticipating such fun from the displays of local talent on the programme. Anne believed that she would hate that white lace girl to the end of life. Unfortunately for Anne, A professional elocutionist was staying at the hotel and had consented to recite. She was a lithe, Dark-eyed woman in a wonderful gown of shimmering grey stuff like woven moonbeams with gems on her neck and in her dark hair. She had a marvelously flexible voice. And wonderful power of expression. The audience went wild. Over her selection. An forgetting all about herself and her troubles for the time, Listened with rapt attention. And shining eyes. But. . . When the recitation ended. She suddenly put her hands over her face. She could never get up and recite after that. Never! Had she ever thought, She? Could recite? Ugh. If she were only back at Green Gables. At this unpropitious moment, Her name was called. Somehow, Anne, Who did not notice the rather guilty little start of surprise the white lace girl gave, And would not have understood the subtle compliment implied therein if she had, Got on her feet and moved dizzily out to the front. She was so pale. That Diana and Jane, Down in the audience, Clasped each other's hands in nervous sympathy. Anne was the victim of an overwhelming attack of stage fright. Often, As she had recited in public, She had never before faced such an audience as this. And the sight of it paralysed her energies completely. Everything was so strange, So brilliant, So bewildering. The rows of ladies in evening dress. The critical faces. The whole atmosphere of wealth and culture about her. Very different, This. From the plain benches at the debating club, Filled with the homely, Sympathetic faces of friends and neighbours. These people, She thought, Would be merciless critics. Perhaps, Like the white lace girl, They anticipated amusement from her rustic efforts. She felt hopelessly alone. Helplessly. Ashamed. And miserable. Her knees trembled, Her heart fluttered. A horrible faintness came over her. Not a word could she utter. And the next moment. She would have fled from the platform despite the humiliation which she felt must ever after be her portion if she did so but suddenly As her dilated, Frightened eyes gazed out over the audience, She saw Gilbert Blythe away at the back of the room, Bending forward with a smile on his face. A smile which seemed to Anne at once triumphant and taunting. In reality, It was nothing of the kind. Gilbert was merely smiling with appreciation of the whole affair in general. And of the effect produced by Anne's slender white form and spiritual face against a background of palms in particular. Josie Pye, Whom he had driven over, Sat beside him, And her face certainly was both triumphant and taunting, But Anne did not see Josie and would not have cared if she had. She drew a long breath and flung her hand head up proudly. Courage and determination tingling over her like an electric shock. She would not fail before Gilbert Blythe. He should never be able to laugh at her. Never, Never. Her fright and nervousness vanished. And she began her recitation. Her clear, Sweet voice reaching to the farthest corner of the room without a tremor or a break. Self-possession was fully restored to her, And in the reaction from that horrible moment of powerlessness, She recited as she had never done before. When she finished, There were bursts of honest applause. Anne. Stepping back to her seat, Blushing with shyness and delight, Found her hand vigorously clasped and shaken by the stout lady in pink silk. My dear, You did splendidly, She puffed. I've been crying like a baby. Actually, I have. They're. . . They're encoring you. They're bound to have you back. Oh! I can't go, Said Anne confusedly, But yet. . . I must! Matthew will be disappointed. He said they would encore me. Then, Don't disappoint Matthew, Said the pink lady laughing. Smiling. Blushing, Limpid-eyed, Anne tripped back and gave a quaint, Funny little selection that captivated her audience still further. The rest of the evening was quite a little triumph for her. When the concert was over, The stout pink lady, Who was the wife of an American millionaire, Took her under her wing and introduced her to everybody. And everybody was very nice to her. The professional elocutionist Mrs Evans came and chatted with her, Telling her that she had a charming voice and interpreted her selections beautifully. Even the white lace girl paid her a languid little compliment. They had supper in the big, Beautifully decorated dining room. Diana and Jane were invited to partake of this also since they had come with Anne. Billy was nowhere to be found, Having decamped in mortal fear of some such invitation. He was in waiting for them, With the team however, When it was all over. And the three girls came merrily out into the calm, White, Moonshine radiance. Anne breathed deeply and looked into the clear sky beyond the dark boughs of the firs. Oh, It was good to be out again in the purity and silence of the night. How great and still and wonderful everything was, With the murmur of the sea sounding through it and the darkling cliffs beyond, Like grim giants guarding enchanted coasts. Hasn't it been a perfectly splendid time? Sighed Jane as they drove away. I just wish I was a rich American and could spend my summer at a hotel. And wear jewels and low-necked dresses. Have ice cream and chicken salad every blessed day. I'm sure it would be. Ever so much more fun than teaching school. Anne, Your recitation was simply great. Although I thought at first you were never going to begin. I think it was better than Mrs Evans's. Oh, No, Don't say things like that, Jane, " said Anne quickly, Because it sounds silly. It couldn't be better than Mrs Evans's, You know, For she is a professional and I'm only a schoolgirl with a little knack of reciting. I'm quite satisfied if the people just liked mine pretty well. I've a compliment for you, Anne, " said Diana. At least, I think it must be a compliment because of the tone he said it in. Part of it was, Anyhow. There was an American sitting behind Jane and me. Such a romantic looking man with coal black hair and eyes. Josie Pye says he is a distinguished artist and that her mother's cousin in Boston is married to a man that used to go to school with him. Well, We heard him say, Didn't we Jane, Who is that girl on the platform with the splendid Titian hair? She has a face I should like to paint. There now, Anne. But what does Titian hair mean? Being interpreted, It means plain red, I guess. Loved Anne. Titian was a very famous artist who liked to paint red-haired women. Did you see all the diamonds those ladies wore? Signed, Jane They were simply dazzling. Wouldn't you just love to be rich, Girls? We are rich, Said Anne staunchly. Why, We have 16 years to our credit and we're happy as queens. And we've all got imaginations, More or less. Look at that sea, Girls. All silver and shadow and fear. Vision of things not seen. We couldn't enjoy its loveliness anymore if we had millions of dollars and ropes of diamonds. You wouldn't change into any of those women if you could. Would you want? To be that white lace girl and wear a sour look all your life as if you'd been born turning up your nose at the world. Or the pink lady. Kind and nice as she is, So stout and short that you'd really no figure at all. Or even Mrs. Evans. Sad, Sad look in her eyes. She must have been dreadfully unhappy sometime, To have such a look. You know you wouldn't, Jane Andrews. I don't know exactly, Said Jane, Unconvinced. I think diamonds would comfort a person for a good deal. Well, I don't want to be anyone but myself, Even if I go uncomforted by diamonds all my life, Declared Anne. I'm quite content to be Anne of Green Gables with my string of pearl beads. I know Matthew gave me as much love with them as ever went with Madame the Pink Lady's jewels. Chapter 34 A Queen's Girl The next three weeks were busy ones at Green Gables, For Anne was getting ready to go to Queens. And there was much sewing to be done and many things to be talked over and arranged. Anne's outfit was ample and pretty, For Matthew saw to that, And Marilla, For once, Made no objections whatever to anything he purchased or suggested. More, One evening she went up to the East Gable with her arms full of a delicate pale green material. Anne, Here's something for a nice, Light dress for you. I don't suppose you really need it. You've plenty of pretty waists, But I thought maybe you'd like something real dressy to wear if you were asked out anywhere of an evening in town to a party or anything like that. I hear that Jane Ruby and Josie have got evening dresses as they call them. And I don't mean you shall be behind them. I got Mrs. Allen to help me pick it in town last week and we'll get Emily Gillis to make it for you. Emily has got taste and her fits aren't to be equaled. Oh. Marilla. . . It's just. . . Lovely. Said Anne. Thank you so much. I don't believe you. Ought to be so kind to me. It's making it harder every day for me to go away. The green dress was made up with as many tucks and frills and shearings as Emily's taste permitted. Anne put it on one evening for Matthew's and Marilla's benefit and recited the maiden's vow for them in the kitchen as Marilla watched the bright animated face and graceful motions. Her thoughts went back to the evening Anne had arrived at Green Gables, And memory recalled a vivid picture of the odd, Frightened child in her preposterous, Yellowish-brown, Wincy dress, The heartbreak looking out of her tearful eyes. Something in the memory. Brought tears to Marilla's own eyes. I declare! My recitation has made you cry, Marilla. Said Anne, Gaily stooping over Marilla's chair to drop a butterfly kiss on that lady's cheek. Now. I call that a positive triumph. No. I wasn't crying over your peace, " said Marilla, Who would have scorned to be betrayed into such weakness by any poetry staff. I. . . It just couldn't help thinking. Of the little girl you used to be, Anne. And I was wishing you could have stayed, A little girl. Even with all your queer ways. You f- grown up now. And you're going away. And you look so tall and stylish and so different altogether in that dress. As if you didn't belong in Avonlea at all. And I just got. . . Lonesome. Thinking it all over. Marilla! Anne sat down on Marilla's gingham lap, Took Marilla's lined face between her hands, And looked gravely and tenderly into Marilla's eyes. I'm not. A bit changed. Not really. I'm only just. . . Pruned down and cut. Branched out. The real me? Back here. Is just the same. It won't make a bit of difference where I go or how much I change outwardly. At heart, I shall always be your little Anne. Who will love you and Matthew and dear Green Gables more and better every day of her life. Anne laid her fresh, Young cheek against Marilla's faded one and reached out a hand to pat Matthew's shoulder. Marilla would have given much just then to have possessed Anne's power of putting her feelings into words. But nature and habit. Had willed it otherwise. And she could only put her arms close about her girl and hold her tenderly to her heart. Wishing that she need never let her go. Matthew, With a suspicious moisture in his eyes, Got up and went out of doors. Under the stars of the blue summer night, He walked agitatedly across the yard to the gate under the poplars. Well now. "'I guess she ain't been much spoiled, ' he muttered proudly. I guess my putting in my oar occasional never did much harm after all. She's smart and pretty and loving too, Which is better than all the rest. She's been. A blessing to us. And there never was a luckier mistake than what Mrs Spencer made. If it was luck. I don't believe it was any such thing. It was luck. Providence. Because the Almighty saw we needed her, I reckon. The day finally came when Anne must go to town. She and Matthew drove in one fine September morning after a tearful parting with Diana and an untearful practical one on Marilla's side at least with Marilla. But when Anne had gone. Diana dried her tears and went to a beach picnic at White Sands with some of her Carmody cousins. Where? She contrived to enjoy herself. Tolerably well. While Marilla plunged fiercely into unnecessary work and kept at it all day long. With the bitterest kind of heartache, The ache that burns and gnaws and cannot wash itself away in ready tears. But that night, When Marilla went to bed, Acutely and miserably conscious that the little gable room at the end of the hall was untenanted by any vivid young life and unstirred by any soft breathing. She buried her face in her pillow and wept for her girl in a passion of sobs that appalled her. When she grew calm enough to reflect how very wicked it must be to take on so about a sinful fellow creature. Anne and the rest of the Avonlea scholars reached town just in time to hurry off to the academy. That first day passed pleasantly enough, In a whirl of excitement, Meeting all the new students, Learning to know the professors by sight, And being assorted and organised into classes. Anne intended taking up the second year work. Being advised to do so by Miss Stacy. Gilbert Blythe. Elected to do the same. This meant getting a first-class teacher's license in one year, Instead of two, If they were successful. But it also meant much more, And harder, Work. Jane, Ruby, Josie, Charlie and Moody Spurgeon not being troubled with the stirrings of ambition, Were content to take up the second-class work. Anne was conscious of a pang of loneliness when she found herself in a room with fifty other students, Not one of whom she knew, Except the tall brown haired boy across the room and knowing him in the fashion she did did not help her much. As she reflected pessimistically. Yet, She was undeniably glad that they were in the same class. The old rivalry could still be carried on, And Anne would hardly have known what to do if it had been lacking. I wouldn't feel comfortable without it, She thought. Gilbert looks awfully determined. I suppose he's making up his mind here and now to win the medal. What a splendid chin he has. I never noticed it before. I do wish Jane and Ruby had gone in for first class too. I suppose I won't feel so much like a cat in a strange garret when I get acquainted, Though. I wonder which of the girls here are going to be my friends? It's really an interesting speculation. Of course, I promised Diana that no Queens girl, No matter how much I liked her, Should ever be as dear to me as she is. But I've lots of second best affections to bestow. I like the look of that girl with the brown eyes and the crimson waist. She looks vivid and red rosy. There's that pale fair one gazing out of the window. She has lovely hair. And looks as if she knew a thing or two about dreams. I'd like to know them both. Know them well. Well enough to walk with my arm about their waists and call them nicknames. But just now, I don't know them. And they don't know me. And probably don't want to know me particularly. Oh, It's lonesome. It was lonesomer still when Anne found herself alone in her hall bedroom that night at twilight She was not to board with the other girls, Who all had relatives in town, To take pity on them. Miss Josephine Barry would have liked to board her, But Beachwood was so far from the Academy. That it was out of the question. Miss Barry hunted up a boarding house, Assuring Matthew and Marilla that it was the very place for Anne. The lady who keeps it is a reduced gentlewoman, Explained Miss Barry. Her husband was a British officer and she is very careful what sort of borders she takes. Anne will not meet with any objectionable persons under her roof. The table is good and the house is near the academy in a quiet neighbourhood. All this might be quite true, And indeed proved to be so, But It did not materially help Anne in the first agony of homesickness that seized upon her. She looked dismally about her narrow little room, With its dull, Papered, Pictureless walls, Its small iron bedstead and empty bookcase, And a horrible choke came into her throat as she thought of her own white room at Green Gables. Where she would have the pleasant consciousness of a great, Green, Still outdoors. Of sweet peas growing in the garden. And moonlight falling on the orchard. Of the brook below the slope and the spruce boughs tossing in the night wind beyond it, Of a vast starry sky and the light from Diana's window shining out through the gap in the trees. Here, There was nothing of this. Anne knew that outside of her window was a hard street. With a network of telephone wires shutting out the sky, The tramp of alien feet, And a thousand lights gleaming on stranger faces. She knew? The chi, Was going to cry. And fought against it. I won't cry. It's silly and weak. There's the third tear splashing down by my nose. There are more coming. I must think. Of something funny to stop them. But there's nothing funny except what is connected with Avonlea and that only makes things worse 4. . . 5. . . I'm going home next Friday. But that seems a hundred years away. Oh, Matthew is nearly home by now. And Marilla is at the gate looking down the lane for him. Six, Seven, Eight. Oh, There's no use in counting them. They're coming in a flood presently. I can't cheer up. I don't want to cheer up. It's nicer to be miserable. Miserable. The flood of tears would have come, No doubt, Had not Josie Pye appeared at that moment. In the joy of seeing a familiar face, Anne forgot that there had never been much love lost between her and Josie. As a part of Avonlea life, Even a pie was welcome. I'm so glad you came up. Anne said sincerely. You've been crying, Remarked Josie with aggravating pity. I suppose you're homesick. Some people have so little self-control in that respect. I've no intention of being homesick, I can tell you. Towns, Too jolly, After that pokey old Avonlea. I wonder how I ever existed there so long. You shouldn't cry, Anne. It isn't becoming. For your nose and eyes get red and then you seem all red. I'd a perfectly scrumptious time in the academy today. Our French professor is simply a duck. His moustache would give you koalaps of the heart. Have you anything eatable around, Anne? I'm literally starving. Ah, I guessed likely Marilla'd load you up with cake. That's why I called round. Otherwise I'd have gone to the park to hear the band play with Frank Stockley. He boards same place as I do and he's a sport. He noticed you in class today and asked me who the red-headed girl was. I told him you were an orphan that the Cuthberts had adopted. And nobody knew very much about what you'd been before that. Anne was wondering if, After all, Solitude and tears were not more satisfactory than Josie Pie's companionship? When Jane and Ruby appeared. Each with an inch of queen's colour ribbon, Purple and scarlet, Pinned proudly to her coat. As Josie was not speaking to Jane just then, She had to subside into comparative harmlessness. "'Well, ' said Jane with a sigh, "'I feel as if I'd lived many moons since the morning, ' I ought to be home, Studying my Virgil. That horrid old professor gave us 20 lines to start in on tomorrow. But I simply couldn't settle down to study tonight. Anne. Methinks I see the traces of tears. If you've been crying do own up it will restore my self-respect for I was shedding tears freely before Ruby came along. I don't mind being a goose so much if somebody else is goosey too. Cake? You'll give me a teeny piece, Won't you? Thank you. It has the real Avonlea flavour. Ruby perceiving the Queen's calendar lying on the table wanted to know if Anne meant to try for the gold medal. Anne blushed and admitted she was thinking of it. Oh, That reminds me, Said Josie, Queen's is to get one of the Avery scholarships after all. The word came today. Frank Stockley told me. His uncle is one of the board of governors, You know. It will be announced in the academy tomorrow. An Avery? Scholarship? Anne felt her heart beat more quickly and the horizons of her ambition shifted and broadened as if by magic. Before Josie had told the news, Anne's highest pinnacle of aspiration had been a teacher's provincial license first class at the end of the year, And perhaps the medal. But now, In one moment, Anne saw herself winning a medal. The Avery Scholarship. Taking an arts course at Redmond College and graduating in a gown and mortarboard. Before the echo of Josie's words had died away. For the Avery scholarship was in English, And Anne felt that here, Her foot was on native heath. A wealthy manufacturer of New Brunswick had died and left part of his fortune to endow a large number of scholarships to be distributed among the various high schools and academies of the Maritime Provinces, According to their respective standings. There had been much doubt whether one would be allotted to Queens, But the matter was settled at last. And at the end of the year, The graduate who made the highest mark in English and English literature would win the scholarship. $250 a year for four years. At Redmond College. No wonder that Anne went to bed that night with tingling cheeks. I'll win that scholarship. If hard work can do it? She resolved, Wouldn't Matthew be proud if I got to be a BA? Oh, It's delightful to have ambitions. I'm so glad I have such a lot. And there never seems to be any end to them. That's the best of it. Just as soon as you attain to one ambition, You see another one glittering higher up still. It does make life so interesting. Chapter 35. The Winter at Queen's. Anne's homesickness wore off, Greatly helped in the wearing by her weekend visits home. As long as the open weather lasted, The Avonlea students went out to Kalmadi on the new branch railway every Friday night. Diana and several other Avonlea young folks were generally on hand to meet them. And they all walked over to Avonlea in a merry party. Anne thought those Friday evening gypsyings over the autumnal hills in the crisp golden air with the home lights of Avonlea twinkling beyond were the best and dearest hours in the whole week. Gilbert Blythe nearly always walked with Ruby Gillis and carried her satchel for her. Ruby was a very handsome young lady, Now thinking herself quite as grown up as she really was. She wore her skirts as long as her mother would let her, And did her hair up in town, Though she had to take it down when she went home. She had large, Bright blue eyes, A brilliant complexion, And a plump, Showy figure. She laughed a great deal, Was cheerful and good-tempered, And enjoyed the pleasant things of life, Frankly. But I shouldn't think she was the sort of girl Gilbert would like. Whispered Jane to Anne. Anne did not think so either, But she would not have said so for the Avery Scholarship. She could not help thinking too that It would be very pleasant to have such a friend as Gilbert to jest and chatter with and exchange ideas about books and studies and Ambitions. Gilbert had ambitions, She knew. And Ruby Gillis did not seem the sort of person with whom such could be profitably discussed. There was no silly sentiment in Anne's ideas concerning Gilbert. Boys were, To her, When she thought about them at all, Merely possible good comrades. If she and Gilbert had been friends, She would not have cared how many other friends he had, Nor with whom he walked. She had a genius for friendship. Girl friends she had in plenty. But she had a vague consciousness that masculine friendship might also be a good thing to round out one's conceptions of companionship and furnish broader standpoints of judgment and comparison. Not that Anne could have put her feelings on the matter into just such clear definition. But She thought that. . . If Gilbert had ever walked home with her from the train, Over the crisp fields and along the ferny byways, They might have had many and merry and happy days. Interesting conversations. About the new world that was opening around them. And their hopes and ambitions, They're in. Gilbert was a clever young fellow with his own thoughts about things and a determination to get the best out of life and put the best into it. Ruby Gillis told Jane Andrews that she didn't understand half the things Gilbert Blythe said. He talked just like Anne Shirley did when she had a thoughtful fit on. And for her part, She didn't think it any fun to be bothering about books and that sort of thing when you didn't have to. Frank Stockley had lots more dash and go. But then he wasn't half as good looking as Gilbert and she really couldn't decide which she liked best. In the academy, Anne gradually drew a little circle of friends about her. Thoughtful, Imaginative, Ambitious students like herself. With the Rose Red Girl, Stella Maynard, And the Dream Girl, Priscilla Grant, She soon became intimate, Finding the latter, Pale, Spiritual-looking maiden to be full to the brim of mischief and pranks and fun, While the vivid, Black-eyed Stella had a heart full of wistful dreams and fancies, As aerial and rainbow-like own. After the Christmas holidays, The Avonlea students gave up going home on Fridays and settled down to hard work. By this time, All the Queen's scholars had gravitated into their own places in the ranks and the various classes had assumed distinct and settled shadings of individuality. Certain facts had become generally accepted. It was admitted that the medal contestants had practically narrowed down to three. Gilbert Blythe, Anne Shirley and Lewis Wilson. The. . . Avery scholarship was more doubtful. Any one of a certain six being a possible winner. The bronze medal for mathematics was considered as good as won by a fat, Funny little upcountry boy with a bumpy forehead and a patched coat. Ruby Gillis was the handsomest girl of the year at the Academy. In the second year classes, Stella Maynard carried off the palm for beauty, With small but critical minority in favour of Anne Shirley. Ethel Marr was admitted by all competent judges to have the most stylish modes of hairdressing. And Jane Andrews, Plain, Plodding, Conscientious Jane, Carried off the honours in the Domestic Science course. Even Josie Pye attained a certain pre-eminence. As the sharpest-tongued young lady in attendance at Queen's. So, It may be fairly stated that Miss Stacy's old pupils held their own in the wider arena of the academical course. Anne worked hard and steadily. Her rivalry with Gilbert was as intense as it had ever been in Avonlea's school, Although it was not known in the class at large, But somehow the bitterness had gone out of it. Anne no longer wished to win for the sake of defeating Gilbert, Rather for the proud consciousness of a well-won victory over a worthy foeman. It would be worthwhile to win, But she no longer thought life would be insupportable if she did not. In spite of lessons, The students found opportunities for pleasant times. Anne spent many of her spare hours at Beachwood and generally ate her Sunday dinners there, And went to church with Miss Barry. The latter was, As she admitted, Growing old, But her black eyes were not dim, Nor the vigour of her tongue in the least abated. But she never sharpened the latter on Anne, Who continued to be a prime favourite with the critical old lady. That Anne girl improves all the time, She said. I get tired of other girls. There is such a provoking and eternal sameness about them. Anne has as many shades as a rainbow, And every shade is the prettiest. While it lasts. I don't know that she is as amusing as she was when she was a child, But She makes me love her and I like people who make me love them. It saves me so much trouble in making myself love them. Then, Almost before anybody realised it, Spring had come. Out in Avonlea, The May flowers were peeping pinkly out on the serre barrens where snow wreaths lingered, And the mist of green was on the woods and in the valleys. But in Charlottetown, Harassed Queen's students thought and talked only of examinations. It doesn't seem possible that the term is nearly over, Said Anne. Why, Last fall it seemed so long to look forward to. A whole winter. Of studies and classes. Here we are! With the exams looming up next week. Girls, Sometimes I feel as if those exams meant everything. But when I look at the big buds swelling on those chestnut trees, And the misty blue air at the end of the streets, They don't seem half so important. Jane and Ruby and Josie, Who had dropped in, Did not take this view of it. To them, The coming examinations were constantly very important indeed. Far more important than chestnut buds or Maytime hazes. It was all very well for Anne. Who was sure of passing, At least, To have her moments of belittling them, But when your whole future. Depended on them. As the girls truly thought theirs did. You could not regard them philosophically. I've lost seven pounds in the last two weeks, Sighed Jane. It's no use to say don't worry. I will worry. Worrying helps you some. It seems as if you were doing something when you're worrying. It would be dreadful if I failed to get my license after going to Queens all winter and spending so much money. I don't care, Said Josie Pye. If I don't pass this year, I'm coming back next. My father can afford to send me. Anne, Frank Stockley says that Professor Tremaine said Gilbert Blythe was sure to get the medal. And that Emily Clay would likely win the Avery Scholarship. That may make me feel badly tomorrow, Josie, Laughed Anne, But just now i honestly feel that as long as i know the violets are coming out all purple down in the hollow below green gables and that little ferns are poking their heads up in Lover's Lane. It's not a great deal of difference whether I win the aviary or not. I've done my best and I begin to understand what is meant by the joy of the strife. Next to trying and winning. The best thing is trying. And failing. Girls, Don't talk about exams. Look at that arch of pale green sky over those houses and picture to yourself what it must look like over the purpley dark beech woods back of Avonlea. What are you going to wear for commencement, Jane? Asked Ruby practically. Jane and Josie both answered at once, And the chatter drifted into a side eddy of fashions. But Anne, With her elbows on the windowsill, Her soft cheek laid against her clasped hands, And her eyes filled with visions, Looked out unheedingly across city roof inspire to that glorious dome of sunset sky. And wove her dreams of a possible future. From the golden tissue of youth's own optimism. All the beyond was hers, With its possibilities lurking rosily in the oncoming years, Each year a rose of promise to be woven into an immortal chaplet. Chapter 36 The Glory and the Dream On the morning when the final results of all the examinations were to be posted on the bulletin board at Queen's, Anne and Jane walked down the street together. Jane was smiling and happy. Examinations were over and she was comfortably sure she had made a pass at least. Further considerations troubled Jane not at all. She had no soaring ambitions and consequently was not affected with the unrest attendant thereon. For we pay a price for everything we get or take in this world. And although ambitions are well worth having, They are not to be cheaply won. But exact their dues of work and self-denial, Anxiety and discouragement. Anne was pale and quiet. In ten more minutes, She would know who had won the medal. And who the Avery. Beyond those ten minutes, There did not seem, Just then, To be anything worth being called time. Course you'll win one of them anyhow, " said Jane. Who couldn't understand how the faculty could be so unfair as to order it otherwise. I have not hope of the Avery, Said Anne. Everybody says Emily Clay will win it. And I am not going to march up to that bulletin board and look at it before everybody. I haven't the moral courage. I'm going straight to the girls' dressing room. You must read the announcements and then come and tell me, Jane. And I implore you, In the name of our old friendship, To do it as quickly as possible. If I have failed, Just say so, Without trying to break it gently. And whatever you do, Don't Sympathise with me. Promise me this, Jane. Jane promised solemnly. But as it happened, There was no necessity for such a promise. When they went up the entrance steps of Queens, They found the hall full of boys who were carrying Gilbert Blythe around on their shoulders and yelling at the tops of their voices, Hurrah for Blythe, Medalist. For a moment, Anne felt one sickening pang of defeat and disappointment. So. She had failed. And Gilbert had won. Well, Matthew would be sorry. He had been so sure she would win. And then. . . Somebody called out. Three cheers for Miss Shirley, Winner of the Avery. Gasped Jane as they fled to the girls' dressing room amid hearty cheers. Oh! I'm so proud. Isn't it splendid? And then the girls were around them and Anne was the centre of a laughing, Congratulating group. Her shoulders were thumped and her hands shaken vigorously. She was pushed and pulled and hugged and, Among it all, She managed to whisper to Jane, Won't Matthew and Marilla be pleased? I must write the news home right away. Commencement was the next important happening. The exercises were held in the big assembly hall of the academy. Addresses were given, Essays read, Songs sung, The public award of diplomas, Prizes and medals made. Matthew and Marilla were there with eyes and ears for only one student on the platform. A tall girl in pale green with faintly flushed cheeks and starry eyes who read the best essay and was pointed out and whispered about as the Avery winner Reckon you're glad we kept her, Marilla? Whispered Matthew, Speaking for the first time since he had entered the hall, When Anne had finished her essay. It's not the first time I've been glad, Retorted Marilla. You do like to rub things in, Matthew Cuthbert. Miss Barry, Who was sitting behind them, Leaned forward and poked Marilla in the back with her parasol. Aren't you proud of that Anne girl? I am, She said. Anne went home to Avonlea with Matthew and Marilla that evening. She had not been home since April and she felt that she could not wait another day. The apple blossoms were out and the world was fresh and young. Diana was at Green Gables to meet her. In her own white room where Marilla had set a flowering house rose on the windowsill. Anne looked about her and drew a long breath of happiness. Oh, Diana. It's so good to be back again. It's so good to see those pointed furs coming out against the pink sky. And that white orchard and the old snow queen. Isn't the breath of the mint delicious? And that tea rose. Why it's a song and a hope and a prayer all in one. And it's good to see you again, Diana. I thought you liked that Stella Maynard better than me, Said Diana reproachfully. Josie Pye told me you did. Josie said you were infatuated with her. Anne laughed and pelted Diana with the faded June lilies of her bouquet. Stella Maynard is the dearest girl in the world except one and you Oh, That one, Diana. She said, I love you more than ever. And I've so many things to tell you. But just now, I feel as if it were joy enough to sit here and look at you. I'm tired, I think. Tired of being studious and ambitious. I mean to spend at least two hours tomorrow lying out in the orchard grass, Thinking of absolutely nothing. You've done splendidly, Anne. I suppose you won't be teaching now that you've won the Avery. No, I'm going to Redmond in September. Doesn't it seem wonderful? I'll have a brand new stock of ambition laid in by that time. After three glorious golden months of vacation. Jane and Ruby are going to teach. Isn't it splendid to think we all got through, Even to moody Spurgeon and Josie Pye? The Newbridge trustees have offered Jane their school already, " said Diana. Gilbert Blythe is going to teach too. He has to. His father can't afford to send him to college next year after all so he means to earn his own way through. I expect he'll get the school here if Miss Amos decides to leave. Anne felt a queer little sensation of dismayed surprise. She had not known this. She had expected that Gilbert would be going to Redmond also. What would she do? Without their inspiring rivalry. Would not work even at a co-educational college with a real degree in prospecting. Be rather flat without her friend, The enemy? The next morning, At breakfast, It suddenly struck Anne that Matthew was not looking well. Surely he was much greyer than he had been a year before. Marilla, She said hesitatingly when he had gone out, Is Matthew quite well? No, He isn't. Said Marilla in a troubled tone. He's had some real bad spells with his heart this spring. And he won't spare himself a mite. I've been real worried about him. But he's some better this while back and we've got a good hired man, So. . . I'm hoping he'll kind of rest and pick up. Maybe he will, Now you're home. You always cheer him up. Anne leaned across the table and took Marilla's face in her hands. You. Are not looking as well yourself as I'd like to see you, Marilla. You look tired. I'm afraid you've been working too hard. You must take a rest now that I'm home. I'm just going to take this one day off to visit all the dear old spots and hunt up my old dreams and then It will be your turn to be lazy while I do the work. Marilla smiled affectionately at her girl. It's not the work. It's my head. I've got a pain so often now behind my eyes. Dr Spencer's been fussing with glasses but. . . They don't do me any good. There is a distinguished oculist coming to the island the last of June and the doctor says I must see him. I guess I'll have to. I can't read or sew with any comfort now. Well, Anne, You've done real well at Queen's, I must say. To take first class license in one year and win the Avery scholarship? Well, Well. Mrs. Lind says pride goes before a fall. And she doesn't believe in the higher education of women at all. She says it unfits them for woman's true sphere. I don't believe a word of it. Speaking of Rachel, Remind me, Did you hear anything about the Abbey bank lately, Anne? I heard it was shaky, Answered Anne. Why? That is what Rachel said. She was up here one day last week and said there was some talk about it. Matthew felt real worried. All we have saved is in that bank. Every penny. I wanted Matthew to put it in the savings bank in the first place, But old Mr. Abbey. Was a great friend of father's and he'd always banked with him. Matthew said any bank with him at the head of it was good enough for anybody. I think he has only been its nominal head for many years, Said Anne. He is a very old man. His nephews are really at the head of the institution. Well, When Rachel told us that. . . I wanted Matthew to draw our money right out. And he said he'd think of it. But Mr Russell told him yesterday that the bank was all right. Anne had her good day in the companionship of the outer world. She never forgot that day. It was so bright and golden and fair, So free from shadow and so lavish of blossom. Anne spent some of its rich hours in the orchard. She went to the Dryad's Bubble and Willowmere and Violet Vale. She called at the manse and had a satisfying talk with Mrs Allen. And finally, In the evening, She went with Matthew for the cows through Lover's Lane to the back pasture. The woods were all gloried through with sunset, And the warm splendour of it streamed down through the hill gaps in the west. Matthew walked slowly with bent head. Anne, Tall and erect, Suited her springing step to his. You've been working too hard today, Matthew, She said reproachfully. Why won't you take things easier? Well now. . . I can't seem to, Said Matthew. As he opened the yard gate to let the cows through. It's only that I'm getting old, Anne. And keep forgetting it. Well, Well. I've always worked pretty hard and. . . I'd rather drop in harness. "'If I had been the boy you sent for, ' said Anne wistfully. I'd. . . Be able to help you so much now. And spare you in a hundred ways. I could find it in my heart to wish I had been just for that. Well, Now. I'd rather have you. Than a dozen boys and said Matthew patting her hand just Mind you that. Rather than a dozen boys. Well now. I guess it wasn't a boy that took the Avery scholarship was it? It was a girl. Michael. My girl. That I'm proud of. He smiled his shy smile at her as he went into the yard. Anne took the memory of it with her when she went to her room that night and sat for a long while at her open window, Thinking of the past and dreaming of the future. Outside, The Snow Queen was mistily white in the moonshine. The frogs were singing in the marsh beyond Orchard Slope. Anne always remembered the silvery, Peaceful, Beauty and fragrant calm of that night. It was the last night before sorrow touched her life. And no life is ever quite the same again. When once that cold, Sanctifying touch has been laid. Upon it. Chapter 37 The Reaper. Whose name. Is death. Matthew, Matthew, What is the matter? Matthew, Are you sick? It was Marilla who spoke. Alarm in every jerky word. Anne came through the hall, Her hands full of white narcissus. It was long before Anne could love the sight or odour of white narcissus again. In time to hear her, And to see Matthew standing in the porch doorway, A folded paper in his hand, And his face strangely drawn and grey. Anne dropped her flowers and sprang across the kitchen to him at the same moment as Marilla. They were both too late. Before they could reach him. Matthew had fallen. Across the threshold. He's fainted, Gasped Marilla. Anne, Run for Martin, Quick. Quick, He's at the barn. Martin, The hired man. Who had just driven home from the post office, Started at once for the doctor, Calling at Orchard Slope on his way to send Mr. And Mrs. Barry over. Mrs. Lynde, Who was there on an errand, Came too. They found Anne and Marilla distractedly trying to restore Matthew to consciousness. Mrs Linde pushed them gently aside, Tried his pulse, And then laid her ear over his heart. She looked at their anxious faces sorrowfully. And the tears came into her eyes. Marilla, She said gravely. I don't think. . . We can do anything for him. Mrs. Lint. You don't think. You can't think Matthew is. . . Is. . . Anne could not say the dreadful word. She turned sick and pallid. Child? Yes, I'm afraid of it. Look at his face. When you've seen that look as often as I have. You'll know what it means. Anne looked at the still face. And there beheld the seal of the Great Presence. When the doctor came, He said that death had been instantaneous, And probably painless. Caused in all likelihood by some sudden shock. The secret of the shock was discovered to be in the paper Matthew had held. And which Martin had brought from the office that morning. It contained an account. Of the failure. Of the Abbey Bank. The news spread quickly through Avonlea. And all day, Friends and neighbours thronged Green Gables and came and went on errands of kindness for the dead and living. For the first time, Shy, Quiet Matthew Cuthbert was a person of central importance. The white majesty of death had fallen on him. And set him apart as one crowned. When the calm night came softly down over Green Gables, The old house was hushed and tranquil. In the parlour lay Matthew Cuthbert in his coffin. His long grey hair framing his placid face, On which there was a little kindly smile. As if he but slept. Dreaming pleasant dreams. There were flowers about him. Sweet, Old-fashioned flowers which his mother had planted in the homestead garden in her bridal days. And for which Matthew had always had a secret, Wordless love. Anne had gathered them and brought them to him, Her anguished, Tearless eyes burning in her white face. It was the last thing she could do for him. The Barrys and Mrs. Lynde stayed with them that night. Diana, Going to the East Gable, Where Anne was standing at her window, Said gently, Anne, Dear, Would you like to have me sleep with you tonight? Thank you, Diana. Anne looked earnestly into her friend's face. I think you won't misunderstand me when I say I want to be alone. I'm not afraid. I haven't been alone one minute since it happened. I want to be. I want to be quite silent and quiet and try to realize it. I can't realize it. Half the time it seems to me that Matthew can't be dead. And the other half, It seems, As if he must have been dead. For a long time. And I've had this horrible, Dull ache. Ever since. Diana did not quite understand. Marilla's impassioned grief. Breaking all the bounds of natural reserve and lifelong habit in its stormy rush, She could comprehend better than Anne's tearless agony. But she went away kindly, Leaving Anne alone to keep her first vigil with sorrow. Anne hoped that the tears would come in solitude. It seemed to her a terrible thing. That she could not shed a tear. For Matthew. Whom she had loved so much. And who had been so kind to her. Matthew. Who had walked with her last evening at sunset. And was now lying in the dim room below. With that awful piece on his brow. But no tears came at first. Even when she knelt by her window in the darkness and prayed. Looking up to the stars beyond the hills. No tears. Only the same horrible dull ache of misery that kept on aching until she fell asleep. Worn out with the day's pain and excitement. In the night, She awakened with the stillness and the darkness about her. And the recollection of the day came over her like a wave of sorrow. She could see Matthew's face smiling at her, As he had smiled when they parted at the gate that last evening. She could hear his voice saying, My girl. My girl that I'm proud of. Then the tears came. And Anne wept her heart out. Marilla heard her and crept in to comfort her. There. Don't cry so, Dearie. It can't bring him back. Isn't right to cry so. I knew that today, But. . . I couldn't help it then. He'd always been such a good, Kind brother to me. But. . . God knows best. Just let me cry, Marilla, " sobbed Anne. The tears don't hurt me like that ache did. Stay here for a little while with me and keep your arm around me so I couldn't have Diana's day. She's good and kind and sweet but It's not her sorrow. She's. . . Outside of it and she couldn't come close enough to my heart to help me. It's our sorrow, Yours and mine. Oh. Marilla. What will we do without him? We've got each other, Anne. I don't know what I'd do if you weren't here. If you'd never come. Oh Anne, I know I've been kind of strict and harsh with you maybe. But you mustn't think I didn't love you as well as Matthew did for all that. I want to tell you now, When I can. It's never been easy for me to say things out of my heart, But at times like this, It's easier. I love you as dear as if you were my own flesh and blood. And you've been my joy and comfort ever since you came to Green Gables. Two days afterwards. They carried Matthew Cuthbert. Over his homestead threshold, And away from the fields he had tilled, And the orchards he had loved, And the trees he had planted. And then. . . Avonlea settled back to its usual placidity. And even at Green Gables, Affairs slipped into their old groove, And work was done, And duties fulfilled with regularity as before. Although always with the aching sense of loss in all familiar things. Anne, New to grief, Thought it almost sad that it could be so. That they could. Go on in the old way without Matthew. She felt something like. . . Shame. And remorse. When she discovered that the sun rises behind the firs. And the pale pink buds opening in the garden. Gave her the old inrush of gladness when she saw them. That Diana's visits were pleasant to her. And that Diana's merry words and ways moved her to laughter and smiles. That, In brief, The beautiful world of blossom and love and friendship had lost none of its power to please her fancy and thrill her heart, That life still called to her with many insistent voices. It seems like. . . Disloyalty to Matthew somehow, To find pleasure in these things now that he has gone, She said wistfully to Mrs Allen one evening when they were together in the manse garden. I miss him so much. All the time. And yet, Mrs. Allen. . . The world and life seem very beautiful and interesting to me for all. Today. Diana said something funny and I found myself laughing. I thought when it happened, I could never laugh again. And it somehow seems as if I oughtn't to. When Matthew was here, He liked to hear you laugh. And he liked to know that you found pleasure in the pleasant things around you. Said Mrs. Allen gently. He is just. . . Away now. And he likes to know it just the same. I am sure we should not shut our hearts against the healing influences that nature offers us. But I can understand your feeling. I think we all experience the same thing. We. Resent the thought that Anything can please us. When someone we love is no longer here? To share the pleasure with us. We almost feel as if we were unfaithful. To our sorrow. When we find our interest in life returning to us. I was down to the graveyard to plant a rose bush. On Matthew's grave this afternoon, " said Anne dreamily. I took a slip of the little white Scotch rosebush his mother brought out from Scotland long ago. Matthew always liked those roses the best. They were so small and sweet on their thorny stems. It made me feel glad that I could plant it by his grave, As if I were doing something that must please him in taking it there to be near him. I hope he has roses like them. In heaven. Perhaps the souls of all those little white roses that he has loved so many summers were all there to meet him. I must go home now. Marilla is all alone and she gets lonely at twilight. She will be lonelier still, I fear, When you go away again to college, " said Mrs. Allen. And did not reply. She said goodnight and went slowly back to Green Gables. Marilla was sitting on the front doorsteps and Anne sat down beside her. The door was open behind them, Held back by a big pink conch shell with hints of sea sunsets in its smooth inner convolutions. Anne gathered some sprays of pale yellow honeysuckle and put them in her hair. She liked the delicious hint of fragrance as some aerial benediction above her every time she moved. Dr. Spencer was here while you were away, " Marilla said. He says that the specialist will be in town tomorrow and he insists that I must go in and have my eyes examined. I suppose I'd better go and have it over. I'll be more than thankful if the man can give me the right kind of glasses to suit my eyes. You won't mind staying here alone while I'm away, Will you? Martin will have to drive me in. And there's ironing and baking to do. I shall be alright. Diana will come over for company for me. I shall attend to the ironing and baking beautifully. You needn't fear that I'll starch the handkerchiefs or. . . Flavour the cake with liniment. Marilla, Laugh. What a girl you were for making mistakes in them days, Anne. You are always getting into scrapes. I did used to think you were possessed. Do you mind the time you dyed your hair? Yes, Indeed, I shall never forget it, Smiled Anne, Touching the heavy braid of hair that was wound about her shapely head. I laugh a little now, Sometimes. When I think what a worry my hair used to be to me. I don't laugh much because it was a very real trouble then. I did suffer terribly over my hair and my freckles. My freckles are really. . . Gone. And people are nice enough to tell me my hair is auburn now. All but josey pie. She informed me yesterday that she really thought it was redder than ever. Or at least my black dress made it look redder. And she asked me if people who had red hair ever got used to having it. Marilla, I've almost decided to give up trying to like Josie Pie. I've made what I would once have called a heroic effort to like her. Josie Pie won't be liked. Josie is a pie, Said Marilla sharply, So she can't help being disagreeable. I suppose people of that kind serve. . . Some useful purpose in society, But I must say I don't know what it is any more than I know the use of thistles. Is Josie going to teach? No. She is going back to Queens next year. So are Moody Spurgeon and Charlie Sloane. Jane and Ruby are going to teach. And they have both got schools. Jane at Newbridge and Ruby at some place up west. Gilbert Blythe is going to teach too, Isn't he? Yes. Briefly. What a nice-looking fellow he is, Said Marilla absently. I saw him in church last Sunday, And he seemed so tall and manly. He looks a lot like his father did at the same age. John Blythe. Was a nice boy. We used to be real good friends, He and I. People called him my beau. Anne looked up with swift interest. Oh! Marilla! What happened. Why didn't you? We had a quarrel. I wouldn't forgive him when he asked me to. I meant to, After a while, But. . . I was sulky and angry and I wanted to punish him first. He. Never came back. The blithes were all mighty independent, But I always felt Rather. Sorry. I've always kind of wished. . . Had forgiven him. When I had the chance. So. . . You've had a bit of romance in your life too. Said Anne softly. Yes. I suppose you might call it that. You wouldn't think so, To look at me, Would you? But you never can tell about people from their outsides. Everybody has forgot about me and John. I'd forgotten myself, But. . . It all came back to me when I saw Gilbert last Sunday. Chapter 38 The Bend in the Road Marilla went to town the next day and returned in the evening. Anne had gone over to Orchard Slope with Diana. And came back to find Marilla in the kitchen, Sitting by the table with her head leaning on her hand. Something in her dejected attitude struck a chill to Anne's heart. She had never seen Marilla sit limply inert like that. Are you very tired, Marilla? Yes. No. I don't know, Said Marilla, Wearily, Looking up. I suppose I am tired, But. . . I haven't thought about it. It's not that. Did you see the oculus? What did he say? Asked Anne anxiously. Yes, I saw him. He examined my eyes, He says that. . . If I give up all reading and sewing entirely, And any kind of work that strains the eyes, And if I'm careful not to cry. And if I wear the glasses he's given me. He thinks my eyes may not get any worse and my headaches will be cured, But if I don't, He says, I'll certainly be stone blind. In six months. Blind. Anne, Just think of it. For a minute, Anne, After her first quick exclamation of dismay, Was silent. It seemed to her that she could not speak. Then she said, Bravely, But with a catch in her voice, Marilla. Don't think of it. You know he has given you hope. If you are careful. You won't lose your sight altogether. And if his glasses cure your headaches. . . It would be a great thing. I don't call it much hope, " said Marilla bitterly. What am I to live for? If I can't read, Or sew, Or do anything like that, I might as well be blind. Or dead. And as for crying. . . I can't help that when I get lonesome. Put there. It's no good talking about it. If you'll get me a cup of tea, I'll be thankful. I'm about done out. Don't say anything about this to anyone. For a spell yet, Anyway. I can't. Bear that folks should come here to. . . Question. Sympathize and talk about it. When Marilla had eaten her lunch and persuaded her to go to bed. Then Anne went herself to the East Gable, And sat down by her window in the darkness, Alone with her tears and her heaviness of heart. How sadly things had changed since she had sat there the night after coming home. Then she had been full of hope. And joy. And the future had looked rosy with promise. Anne felt as if she had lived years since then. Part. Before she went to bed, There was a smile on her lips. And peace in her heart. She. Had looked her duty. Courageously in the face and found it a friend. As duty ever is when we meet it frankly. One afternoon, A few days later, Marilla came slowly in from the front yard, Where she had been talking to a caller. A man whom Anne knew by sight as Sadler from Carmody. Anne wondered what he could have been saying to bring that look to Marilla's face. What did Mr. Sadler want, Marilla? Marilla sat down by the window and looked at Anne. There were tears in her eyes, In defiance of the oculist's prohibition, And her voice broke as she said, He heard that I was going to sell green gables and He wants to buy it. Buy it. Bye! Green Gables? Anne wondered if she had heard her right. Oh. Marilla, You don't mean to sell green gay bottles? And. . . I don't know what else is to be done. I've thought it all over. If my eyes were strong i could stay here and make out to look after things and manage with a good hired man but As it is, I can't. I may lose my sight altogether. And anyway, I'll not be fit to run things. I never thought I'd live to see the day when I'd have to sell my home. But things would only go behind worse and worse all the time till nobody would want to buy it. Every cent of our money went in that bank and there's some notes Matthew gave last fall to pay Mrs. Linde advises me to sell the farm and board somewhere with her, I suppose. It won't bring much. It's small and. . . The buildings are old, But it'll be enough for me to live on, I reckon. I'm thankful you're provided for with that scholarship, Anne. I'm sorry, You won't have a home to come to in your vacations, That's all. But I suppose you'll manage. Somehow. Marilla broke down and wept. Bitterly. You mustn't sell green cables, Said Anne resolutely. Oh, Anne. I wish I didn't have to. Which you can see for yourself. I can't stay here alone. I'd go crazy with trouble and loneliness and my sight would go. I know it would. You won't have to stay here alone, Marilla. I'll be with you. I'm not going to Redmond. Not going to Redmond. " Marilla lifted her worn face from her hands and looked at Anne What do you mean? Just what I say. I'm not going to take the scholarship. I decided so, The night after you came home from town. You surely don't think I could leave you alone in your trouble, Marilla, After all you've done for me? I've been thinking and planning. Let me tell you my plans. Mr. Barry wants to rent the farm for next year, So you won't have any bother over that. And I'm going to teach. I've applied for the school here, But. . . I don't expect to get it, For I understand the trustees have promised it to Gilbert Blythe, But I can have the Carmody School. Mr Blair told me so last night at the store. Of course, That won't be quite as nice or convenient as if I had the Avonlea School, But I can board home and drive myself over to Karmody and back in the warm weather at least. And even in winter, I can come home Fridays. We'll keep a horse for that. Oh, I have it all planned out, Marilla. And I'll read to you and keep you cheered up. You shan't be dull or lonesome. And we'll be real cozy and happy here together. You and I. Marilla had listened, Like a woman in a dream. Oh, Anne. I could get on. Real well. If you were here. . . I know. I can't let you sacrifice yourself so for me. It would be terrible. Nonsense! ' Anne laughed merrily. There is no sacrifice. Nothing could be worse than giving up Green gables? Nothing could hurt me more. We must keep quiet. The dear old place. My mind is quite made up, Marilla. I'm not going to Redmond. And I am going to stay here and teach. Don't you worry about me a bit. But your ambitions and I'm just as ambitious as ever only I've changed the object of my ambitions. I'm going to be. A good teacher. And I'm going to save your eyesight. Besides, I mean to study at home here and take a little college course all by myself. I've dozens of plans, Marilla. I've been thinking them out for a week. I shall give life here my best. And I believe it will give its best to me in return. When I left Queens, My future seemed to stretch out before me like a straight road. I thought I could see along it for many a milestone. Now, There is a bend in it. I don't know what lies around the bend, But I'm going to believe that the best does. And it has a fascination of its own, That bend, Marilla. I wonder how the road beyond it goes. What there is of green glory and soft checkered light and shadows. What new landscapes, What new beauties, What curves and hills and valleys further on. I don't feel as if I ought to let you give it up, " said Marilla, Referring to the scholarship. But you can't prevent me. I'm 16 and a half, Obstinate as a mule, As Mrs. Lind once told me, Laughed Anne. Oh. Marilla, Don't you go pitying me. I don't like to be pitied and there is no need for it. I'm heart glad over the very thought of staying at dear Green Gables. Nobody could love it. As you and I do. So we must keep it. You blessed girl, Said Marilla, Yielding. I feel as if you'd given me new life. I guess I ought to stick out and make you go to college, But. . . I know. I can't, So. . . I ain't going to try. I'll make it up to you though, Anne. When it became noised abroad in Avonlea that Anne Shirley had given up the idea of going to college and intended to stay home and teach There was a good deal of discussion over it. Most of the good folks, Not knowing about Marilla's eyes, Thought she was foolish. Mrs. Allen did not. She told Anne so in approving words that brought tears of pleasure to the girl's eyes. Neither did good Mrs Lind. She came up one evening and found Anne and Marilla sitting at the front door in the warm scented summer dusk. They liked to sit there when the twilight came down and the white moths flew about in the garden and the odour of mint filled the dewy air. Mrs. Rachel deposited her substantial person upon the stone bench by the door, Behind which grew a row of tall pink and yellow hollyhocks, With a long breath of mingled weariness and relief. I declare I'm getting glad to sit down. I've been on my feet all day. And 200 pounds is a good bit for two feet to carry around. It's a great blessing not to be fat, Marilla. I hope you appreciate it. Well, Anne, I hear you've given up your notion of going to college. I was real glad to hear it. You've got as much education now as a woman can be comfortable with. I don't believe in girls going to college with the men and cramming their heads full of Latin and Greek and all that nonsense. But i'm going to study latin and greek just the same mrs lynde said anne laughing i'm going to take my arts course right here at green gables and study everything that i would at college Mrs. Lynde lifted her hands in holy horror. Anne Shirley. You'll kill yourself. Not a bit of it. I shall thrive on it. I'm not going to overdo things. As Josiah Allen's wife says, I shall be medium. But I'll have lots of spare time in the long winter evenings. And I've no vocation for fancy work. I'm going to teach over at Carmody, You know. I don't know it. I guess you're going to teach right here. In Avonlea. The trustees have decided to give you the school. Mrs. Lynde! Cried Anne, Springing to her feet in her surprise. I thought they had promised it to Gilbert Blythe. So they did. But as soon as Gilbert heard that you had applied for it, He went to them, They had a business meeting at the school last night, You know, And told them that he withdrew his application and suggested that they accept yours. He said he was going to teach at White Sands. Of course, He knew how much you wanted to stay with Marilla. And I must say, I think it was real kind and thoughtful in him, That's what. Real self-sacrificing too, For he'll have his board to pay at White Sands. And everybody knows he's got to earn his own way through college. So the trustees decided to take you. I was tickled to death when Thomas came home and told me. I don't. . . Feel that I. . . Ought to take it, " murmured Anne. I don't think I ought to let Gilbert make such a sacrifice for. . . For me? I guess you can't prevent him now. He's signed papers with the White Sands trustees. So it wouldn't do him any good now if you were to refuse. Of course you'll take the skull. You'll get along all right, Now that there are no pies going. Josie was the last of them and a good thing she was, That's why. There's been some pie or other going to Avonlea school for the last 20 years. And I guess their mission in life was to keep school teachers reminded that. . . Earth. Isn't there home? Bless my heart. What does all that winking and blinking at the Barry Gable mean? Diana is signalling for me to go over, Laughed Anne. You know, We keep up the old custom. Excuse me while I run over and see what she wants. Anne ran down the clover slope like a deer. And disappeared in the furry shadows of the haunted wood. Mrs. Lynde looked after her indulgently. There's a good deal of the child about her yet, In some ways. There's a good deal more of the woman about her in others, Retorted Marilla with a momentary return of her old crispness. But crispness was no longer Marilla's distinguishing characteristics. As Mrs Lind told her Thomas that night, Marilla Cuthbert has got mellow. That's what. Anne went to the little Avonlea graveyard the next evening to put fresh flowers on Matthew's grave and water the Scotch rosebush. She lingered there until dusk, Liking the peace and calm of the little place, With its poplars, Whose rustle was like low, Friendly speech. And its whispering grasses growing at will among the graves. When she finally left it, And walked down the long hill that sloped to the Lake of Shining Waters, It was past sunset, And all Avonlea lay before her in a dreamlike afterlight. A haunt of ancient peace. There was a freshness in the air, As of a wind that had blown over honey-sweet fields of clover. Home lights twinkled out here and there among the homestead trees. Beyond lay the sea, Misty and purple with its haunting, Unceasing murmur. The West was a glory of soft, Mingled hues. And the pond reflected them all in still softer shadings. The beauty of it all, Thrilled Anne's heart. And she gratefully opened the gates of her soul to it. Dear old world, She murmured, You are very lovely. And I am glad to be alive in you. Halfway down the hill, A tall lad came whistling out of a gate before the blithe homestead It was Gilbert, And the whistle died on his lips as he recognised Anne. He lifted his cap courteously. But he would have passed on in silence if Anne had not stopped and held out her hand. Gilbert, She said, With scarlet cheeks. I want to thank you. For giving up the school for me. It was very good of you. And I want you to know that I appreciate it. Gilbert took the offered hand eagerly. It. Wasn't particularly good of me at all and I was pleased to be able to do you some small service. Are we going to be friends after this? Have you really forgiven me? My old fault? Anne. Laughed. And tried, Unsuccessfully, To withdraw her hand. I forgave you that day by the pond landing. Although I didn't know it. What a stubborn little goose I was. I've been. . . I may as well make a complete confession. I've been sorry. Ever since. We are going to be the best of friends, Said Gilbert jubilantly. We were born to be good friends, Anne. You've thwarted destiny enough. I know we can help each other in many ways. You are going to keep up your studies, Aren't you? So am I. Come, I'm going to walk home with you. Marilla looked curiously at Anne when the latter entered the kitchen. Who was that came up the lane with you, Anne? Gilbert Blythe answered Anne, Vexed to find herself blushing. I met him on Barry's Hill. I didn't think you and Gilbert Blythe were such good friends that you'd stand for half an hour at the gate talking to him, " said Marilla with a dry smile. We haven't been. We've been good enemies. But we have decided that it will be much more sensible to be good friends in the future. Were we really there half an hour? It seemed just a few minutes. But you see, We have five years lost conversations to catch up with Marilla. Anne sat long at her window that night, Companioned by a glad content. The wind purred softly in the cherry boughs. And the mint breaths came up to her. The stars twinkled over the pointed furs in the hollow. And Diana's light gleamed through the old gaps. Anne's horizons had closed in since the night she had sat there after coming home from Queen's. But if the path set before her feet was to be narrow, She knew that flowers of quiet happiness would bloom along it. Joy of sincere work. And worthy aspiration and congenial friendship. Were to be hers. Nothing could rob her of her birthright of fancy or her ideal world of dreams. And there was always the bend in the road. Gods in his heaven. All's right with the world. Whispered Anne softly.