Anne of the Island by L.
M.
Montgomery Read by Stephanie Poppins Chapter 27 A June Evening I wonder what it would be like to live in a world where it was always June,
Said Anne as she came through the spice and bloom of the Twilight Orchard to the front doorsteps where Marilla and Mrs.
Rachel were sitting talking over Mrs.
Samson Coates' funeral.
Dora sat between them diligently studying her lessons,
But Davy was sitting tailor-fashioned on the grass,
Looking as gloomy and depressed as his single dimple would let him.
You'd get tired of it,
Said Marilla with a sigh.
I dare say,
For just now I feel it would take me a long time to get tired of it,
As if it were all as charming as today.
Everybody loves June.
Davy,
Why this melancholy November face in blossom time?
I'm just sick and tired of living,
Said the youthful pessimist.
At ten years old,
Dear me,
How sad.
I'm not making fun,
Said Davy with dignity.
I'm dis… discouraged.
He brought out the big word with a valiant effort.
Why and wherefore?
Asked Anne,
Sitting down beside him.
Because the new teacher that come with Mr.
Holmes got sick gave me ten sums to do for Monday.
It'll take me all day tomorrow to do them.
It isn't fair to have to work Saturdays.
Milty Bolter said he wouldn't do them,
But Marilla said I've got to.
I don't like Miss Carson a bit.
Don't talk like that about your teacher,
Davy Keith,
Said Mrs.
Rachel severely.
Miss Carson is a very fine girl,
That's what.
There's no nonsense about her.
That doesn't sound very attractive,
Laughed Anne.
I like to have people have a little bit of nonsense about them.
But I'm glad to have a better opinion of Miss Carson than you have.
I saw her in prayer meeting last night and she has a pair of eyes that can't always look sensible.
Now,
Davy boy,
Take heart of grace and I'll help you with the sums as far as in me lies.
Don't waste this lovely hour,
Twix light and dark,
Worrying over arithmetic.
I won't,
Said Davy,
Brightening up,
If you'll help me with the sums and I'll have them done just in time to go fishing with Milty.
I wish old Aunt Atossa's funeral was tomorrow instead of today.
I wanted to go to it because Milty said his mother said Aunt Atossa would be sure to rise up in her coffin and say sarcastic things to the folks.
But Marilla said she didn't.
Poor Atossa lay in her coffin,
Peaceful enough,
Said Mrs.
Lynde solemnly.
I never saw her look so pleasant before,
That's what.
Well,
There weren't many tears shed over her,
Poor old soul.
The Elisha Wrights are thankful to be rid of her and I can't say I blame them,
I might.
It seems to me a most dreadful thing to go out of the world and not leave one person behind you who's sorry you're gone,
Said Aunt Shuddering.
Nobody except her parents ever loved poor Atossa,
That's certain.
Not even her husband.
She was her husband's fourth wife and he'd sort of got into the habit of marrying.
He'd only lived a few years after he married her.
The doctor said he died of dyspepsia but I always maintain he died of Atossa's tongue,
That's what.
Poor soul,
She always knew everything about her neighbours but she was never very well acquainted with herself.
Well,
She's gone anyhow and I suppose the next excitement will be Diana's wedding.
It seems funny and horrible to think of Diana's being married,
Sighed Anne.
She hugged her knees and looked through the gap in the haunted wood where the light was shining in Diana's room.
I don't see what's horrible about it when she's doing so well,
Said Mrs Linde emphatically.
He certainly isn't the wild,
Dashing,
Wicked young man Diana once wanted to marry,
Smiled Anne.
Fred is extremely good.
That's just what he ought to be.
Would you want Diana to marry a wicked man or marry one yourself?
No,
I wouldn't want to marry anybody who is wicked but I think I'd like it if he could be wicked and wouldn't.
Now Fred is hopelessly good.
You'll have more sense someday,
I hope,
Said Marilla.
Marilla spoke rather bitterly.
She was grievously disappointed.
She knew Anne had refused Gilbert Glythe.
Avonlea gossip buzzed over the fact which had leaked out.
Nobody knew how.
Perhaps Charlie Sloane had guessed and told his guesses for truth.
Perhaps Diana had portrayed it to Fred and Fred had been indiscreet.
At all events it was known.
Mrs Blythe no longer asked Anne in public or private if she had heard lately from Gilbert but passed her by with a frosty bow.
Anne,
Who had always liked Gilbert's merry,
Young-hearted mother,
Was grieved in secret over this.
Marilla said nothing but Mrs Linde gave another exasperated dig until fresh gossip reached that worthy lady through the medium of moody Spurgeon,
Faison's mother,
That Anne had another beau at college who was rich and handsome and good all in one.
After that Mrs Rachel held her tongue,
Although she still wished in her inmost heart Anne had accepted Gilbert Glythe.
Witches were all very well,
But even Mrs Rachel,
Practical soul though she was,
Did not consider them the one essential.
If Anne liked the handsome unknown better than Gilbert,
There was nothing more to be said.
But Mrs Rachel was dreadfully afraid that Anne was going to make the mistake of marrying for money.
Marilla knew Anne too well to fear this,
But she felt that something in the universal scheme of things had gone sadly awry.
What is to be will be,
Said Mrs Rachel gloomily,
And what isn't to be?
Well,
That happens sometimes.
I can't help believing it's going to happen in Anne's case if providence doesn't interfere,
That's what.
Anne had wandered down to the Dryads' Bubble and was curled up among the ferns at the foot of the Big White Birch,
Where she and Gilbert had so often sat in summers gone by.
He had gone into the newspaper office again when college closed,
And Avonlea seemed very dull without him.
He never wrote to her now,
And Anne missed the letters that never came.
To be sure,
Roy wrote twice a week.
His letters were exquisite compositions which would have read beautifully in a memoir or biography.
Anne felt herself more deeply in love with him than ever when she read them.
But her heart never gave that quick,
Queer,
Painful bound at the sight of his letters,
Which it had given one day when Mrs Hiram Sloane had handed her an envelope addressed in Gilbert's black,
Upright handwriting.
Anne had hurried home to the East Gable and opened it eagerly,
Only to find a tight-written copy of some college society report.
She flung the harmless screed across her room and sat down to write an especially nice epistle to Roy.
Diana was to be married in five more days.
The Grey House at Orchard Sloop was in a turmoil of baking and brewing and boiling and stewing,
For there was to be a big old timey wedding.
Anne,
Of course,
Was to be bridesmaid,
As had been arranged when they were twelve years old.
Gilbert was coming from Kingsport to be the best man.
Anne was enjoying the excitement of the various preparations,
But under it all she carried a little heartache.
She was,
In a sense,
Losing her dear old chum.
Diana's new home would be two miles from Green Gables,
And the old,
Constant companionship could never be theirs again.
Anne looked up at Diana's light and thought how it had become,
To her for many years,
A beacon,
But soon it would shine through the summer twilights no more.
Two big painful tears welled up in her grey eyes.
Oh,
She thought,
How horrible it is that people have to grow up and marry and change.
