Anne of The Island

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Anne ofthe Island
BY L. M. MONTGOMERY
ANNE OF GREEN GABLES
ANNE OF AVONLEA
CHRONICLES OF AVONLEA
ANNE OF THE ISLAND
ANNE OF WINDY POPLARS
ANNE'S HOUSE OF DREAMS
ANNE OF INGLESIDE
..
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Anne
of
The Island
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By L. M. MONTGOMERY ด
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Pessoal P ... ***.no ....
Grosset & Dunlap

PUBLISHERS
NEW YORK
This one
3PED - 191 - XP8H

Copyright, 1915, by
THE PAGE COMPANY
Entered at Stationers' Hall, London
All rights reserved
PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA

To
All the Girls All Over the World
Who Have “Wanted More About
ANNE
CONTENTS
CHAPTER PAGE
I. THE SHADOW OF CHANGE I

II. GARLANDS OF AUTUMN . 12
III. GREETING AND FAREWELL . . 22
IV . APRIL'S LADY 30
V. LETTERS FROM HOME 47

VI. IN THE PARK 57
VII. HOME AGAIN 66
VIII. ANNE'S FIRST PROPOSAL 77
IX. AN UNWELCOME LOVER AND A WELCOME FRIEND 83
X. PATTY'S PLACE . . 93
XI. THE ROUND OF LIFE . . .
103
XII. “ AVERIL'S ATONEMENT " . 115
XIII. THE WAY OF TRANSGRESSORS • 125
.
XIV. THE SUMMONS • .

138
XV. A DREAM TURNED UPSIDE Down . 148
XVI. ADJUSTED RELATIONSHIPS . .
154
XVII. A LETTER FROM DAVY . . . 168
XVIII. Miss JOSEPHINE REMEMBERS THE ANNE - GIRL . 172 .
XIX. AN INTERLUDE . .
179
XX. GILBERT SPEAKS . . •
184
XXI. ROSES OF YESTERDAY .
191
XXII. SPRING AND ANNE RETURN TO GREEN GABLES . 196
XXIII. PAUL CANNOT FIND THE ROCK PEOPLE .
• 202
XXIV. ENTER JONAS 207
XXV . ENTER PRINCE CHARMING 214
XXVI. ENTER CHRISTINE .
• 222
XXVII. MUTUAL CONFIDENCES . .
227
XXVIII. A JUNE EVENING .
. 234
vii
viii CONTENTS
CHAPTER PAGB
XXIX . Diana's WEDDING . .

240
XXX . MRS. SKINNER'S ROMANCE .
245
XXXI. ANNE TO PHILIPPA . .
. . . 250
XXXII. TEA WITH MRS. DOUGLAS . .
254
XXXIII. " HE JUST KEPT COMING AND COMING ” . 260
XXXIV . John Douglas SPEAKS AT LAST . •
265
XXXV . THE LAST REDMOND YEAR OPENS 272
XXXVI. THE GARDNERS' CALL . 281
XXXVII. FULL - FLEDGED B. A.'s . 288

XXXVIII. FALSE DAWN 296
XXXIX . DEALS WITH WEDDINGS . .
304
XL A BOOK OF REVELATION . .
314
XLI. LOVE TAKES UP THE GLASS OF TIME . . 320
Anne ofthe Island
CHAPTER I
THE SHADOW OF CHANGE
Harvest
ARVEST is ended and summer is gone," quoted
Anne Shirley, gazing across the shorn fields dream
ily. She and Diana Barry had been picking apples
in the Green Gables orchard, but were now resting
from their labours in a sunny corner, where airy fleets
of thistledown drifted by on the wings of a wind that
was still summer - sweet with the incense of ferns in the
Haunted Wood .
But everything in the landscape around them spoke
of autumn. The sea was roaring hollowly in the dis
tance, the fields were bare and sere, scarfed with golden
rod, the brook valley below Green Gables overflowed
with asters of ethereal purple, and the Lake of Shining
Waters was blue — blue — blue ; not the changeful
-
blue of spring, nor the pale azure of summer, but a

clear, steadfast, serene blue, as if the water were past
all moods and tenses of emotion and had settled down
to a tranquillity unbroken by fickle dreams.
“ It has been a nice summer,” said Diana, twisting
2 ANNE OF THE ISLAND
the new ring on her left hand with a smile. “ And

Miss Lavendar's wedding seemed to come as a sort of
crown to it. I suppose Mr. and Mrs. Irving are on the
Pacific coast now .”
“ It seems to ime they have been gone long enough
to go around the world ,” sighed Anne. “ I can't
believe it is only a week since they were married.
Everything has changed. Miss Lavendar and Mr. and
Mrs. Allan gone — how lonely the manse looks with
.
the shutters all closed ! I went past it last night, and

it made me feel as if everybody in it had died.”
“ We'll never get another minister as nice as Mr.
Allan ,” said Diana, with gloomy conviction. “ I sup
pose we'll have all kinds of supplies this winter, and
half the Sundays no preaching at all. And you and
Gilbert gone it will be awfully dull.”
“ Fred will be here,” insinuated Anne slyly.
“ When is Mrs. Lynde going to move up ? ” asked
Diana, as if she had not heard Anne's remark.
“ To-morrow. I'm glad she's coming — but it will
be another change. Marilla and I cleared everything
out of the spare room yesterday.. Do you know, I
hated to do it ? Of course, it was silly — but it did
-
seem as if we were committing sacrilege. That old

spare room has always seemed like a shrine to me.
When I was a child I thought it the most wonderful
apartment in the world. You remember what a con
suming desire I had to sleep in a spare room bed - but
not the Green Gables spare room . Oh, no, never there !
It would have been too terrible — I couldn't have slept
3
THE SHADOW OF CHANGE
a wink from awe. I never walked through that room

when Marilla sent me in on an errand — no, indeed, I
tiptoed through it and held my breath, as if I were in
church, and felt relieved when I got out of it. The
pictures of George Whitefield and the Duke of Welling
ton hung there, one on each side of the mirror, and
frowned so sternly at me all the time I was in, espe
cially if I dared peep in the mirror, which was the only
one in the house that didn't twist my face a little. I
always wondered how Marilla dared houseclean that
room.. And now it's not only cleaned but stripped
bare. George Whitefield and the Duke have been rele
gated to the up -stairs hall. “ So passes the glory of
)
this world ,' ” concluded Anne, with a laugh in which
there was a little note of regret. It is never pleasant
to have our old shrines desecrated, even when we have
Outgrown them.
“ I'll be so lonesome when you go, " moaned Diana
for the hundredth time. And to think you go next
week ! ”
“ But we're together still,” said Anne cheerily.
" We mustn't let next week rob us of this week's joy.
I hate the thought of going myself — home and I are
such good friends. Talk of being lonesome ! It's I
who should groan. You'll be here with any number
of your old friends — and Fred ! While I shall be
alone among strangers, not knowing a soul ! ”
“ Except Gilbert and Charlie Sloane,” said Diana,
imitating Anne's italics and slyness.
“ Charlie Sloane will be a great comfort, of course ,",
agreed Anne sarcastically ; whereupon both those irre

sponsible damsels laughed. Diana knew exactly what
Anne thought of Charlie Sloane ; but, despite sundry
confidential talks, she did not know just what Anne
thought of Gilbert Blythe. To be sure, Anne herself
did not know that.
“ The boys may be boarding at the other end of
Kingsport, for all I know ,” Anne went on. “ I am
glad I'm going to Redmond, and I am sure I shall like
it after aa while . But for the first few weeks I know I
won't. I shan't even have the comfort of looking for
ward to the week -end visit home , as I had when I went
to Queen's . Christmas will seem like a thousand years
away .”
Everything is changing - or going to change,”
said Diana sadly. “ I have a feeling that things will
never be the same again , Anne."
We have come to a parting of the ways, I suppose, ”
said Anne thoughtfully. “ We had to come to it. Do
you think, Diana, that being grown-up is really as nice
as we used to imagine it would be when we were
children ? ”
“ I don't know - there are some nice things about
it,” answered Diana, again caressing her ring with that
little smile which always had the effect of making Anne
feel suddenly left out and inexperienced. But there
are so many puzzling things, too. Sometimes I feel
as if being grown-up just frightened me — and then I
would give anything to be a little girl again .”
“ II suppose we'll get used to being grown-up in
THE SHADOW OF CHANGE 5
time,” said Anne cheerfully “ There won't be so many

unexpected things about it by and by — though, after
-
all, I fancy it's the unexpected things that give spice

to life. We're eighteen, Diana. In two more years
we'll be twenty. When I was ten I thought twenty
was a green old age. In no time you'll be a staid,
middle-aged matron, and I shall be nice, old maid Aunt
Anne, coming to visit you in vacations. You'll always
keep a corner for me, won't you, Di darling ? Not the
spare room, of course, — old maids can't aspire to spare
rooms, and I shall be as ’umble as Uriah Heep, and
quite content with a little over -the- porch or off-the
parlour cubby hole.”
“ What nonsense you do talk, Anne,” laughed Diana.
' You'll marry somebody splendid and handsome and
rich -
and no spare room in Avonlea will be half gor
geous enough for you —- and you'll turn up your nose
at all the friends of your youth .”
“ That would be a pity ; my nose is quite nice, but I
>
fear turning it up would spoil it ,” said Anne, patting
that shapely organ . “ I haven't so many good features
that I could afford to spoil those I have ; so, even if I
should marry the King of the Cannibal Islands, I
promise you I won't turn up my nose at you, Diana.
With another gay laugh the girls separated, Diana
to return to Orchard Slope, Anne to walk to the Post
Office. She found a letter awaiting her there, and
when Gilbert Blythe overtook her on the bridge over
the Lake of Shining Waters she was sparkling with the
excitement of it.
“ Priscilla Grant is going to Redmond,, too,” she

exclaimed “ Isn't that splendid ? I hoped she would,
but she didn't think her father would consent. He
has, however, and we're to board together. I feel that
I can face an army with banners or all the profes
C
sors of Redmond in one fell phalanx - with a chum

like Priscilla by my side.”
“ I think we'll like Kingsport,” said Gilbert. “ It's
a nice old burg, they tell me, and has the finest natural
park in the world. I've heard that the scenery in it is
magnificent.”
“ I wonder if it will be can be any more beau
tiful than this, ” murmured Anne , looking around her
with the loving, enraptured eyes of those to whom
.
“ home ” must always be the loveliest spot in the world, ·

no matter what fairer lands may lie under alien stars.
They were leaning on the bridge of the old pond,
drinking deep of the enchantment of the dusk , just at
the spot where Anne had climbed from her sinking
dory on the day Elaine floated down to Camelot.
The fine, empurpling dye of sunset still stained the
western skies, but the moon was rising and the water
lay like a great, silver dream in her light. Remem
brance wove a sweet and subtle spell over the two
young creatures.
“ You are very quiet, Anne, ” said Gilbert at last.
“ I'm afraid to speak or move for fear all this won
derful beauty will vanish just like a broken silence,”
breathed Anne.
Gilbert suddenly laid his hand over the slender white
one lying on the rail of the bridge. His hazel eyes

deepened into darkness, his still boyish lips opened to
say something of the dream and hope that thrilled his
soul. But Anne snatched her hand away and turned
quickly. The spell of the dusk was broken for her.
“ I must go home,” she exclaimed, with a rather
overdone carelessness. “ Marilla had a headache this
afternoon, and I'm sure the twins will be in some dread
ful mischief by this time. I really shouldn't have
stayed away so long."
She chattered ceaselessly and inconsequentially until
they reached the Green Gables lane. Poor Gilbert
hardly had a chance to get a word in edgewise. Anne
felt rather relieved when they parted. There had been
a new, secret self-consciousness in her heart with regard
to Gilbert, ever since that fleeting moment of revela
tion in the garden of Echo Lodge. Something alien
had intruded into the old, perfect, school-day comrade
ship — something that threatened to mar it.
>
“ I never felt glad to see Gilbert go before, " she
thought, half-resentfully, half-sorrowfully, as she
walked alone up the lane. “ Our friendship will be
spoiled if he goes on with this nonsense. It mustn't
be spoiled — I won't let it. Oh, why can't boys be just
sensible ! ”
Anne had an uneasy doubt that it was not strictly
“ sensible ” that she should still feel on her hand the
warm pressure of Gilbert’s, as distinctly as she had felt
it for the swift second his had rested there ; and still
less sensible that the sensation was far from being an
unpleasant one —very different from that which had

.
attended a similar demonstration on Charlie Sloane's

part, when she had been sitting out a dance with him
at a White Sands party three nights before. Anne
shivered over the disagreeable recollection. But all
problems connected with infatuated swains vanished
from her mind when she entered the homely, unsenti
mental atmosphere of the Green Gables kitchen where
an eight-year-old boy was crying grievously on the
sofa.
' What is the matter, Davy ? ” asked Anne, taking
hiin up in her arms. Where are Marilla and
Dora ? ”
“ Marilla's putting Dora to bed ,” sobbed Davy ," and
I'm crying ' cause Dora fell down the outside cellar
steps, heels over head, and scraped all the skin off her
nose, and
“ Oh, well, don't cry about it, dear. Of course, you
are sorry for her, but crying won't help her any.
She'll be all right to -morrow . Crying never helps any
one, Davy -boy, and — "
“ I ain't crying ' cause Dora fell down cellar, " said
Davy, cutting short Anne's well-meant preachment
with increasing bitterness. “" I'm crying 'cause I
wasn't there to see her fall. I'm always missing some
fun or other, seems to me."
Oh, Davy !” Anne choked back an unholy shriek
of laughter. “ Would you call it fun to see poor little
Dora fall down the steps and get hurt ?”
“ She wasn't much hurt, ” said Davy defiantly.
do 'Course, if she'd been killed I'd have been real sorry,

Anne. But the Keiths ain't so easy killed. They're
like the Blewetts, I guess.. Herb Blewett fell off the
hayloft last Wednesday , and rolled right down through
the turnip chute into the box stall, where they had a
fearful wild, cross horse, and rolled right under his
heels. And still he got out alive, with only three bones
broke. Mrs. Lynde says there are some folks you can't
kill with a meat- axe. Is Mrs. Lynde coming here to
morrow , Anne ?? "
“Yes, Davy, and I hope you'll be always very nice
and good to her. ”
I'll be nice and good. But will she ever put me to
bed at nights, Anne ? ”
Perhaps. Why ?”
“ 'Cause,” said Davy very decidedly, “ if she does I
won't say my prayers before her like I do before you,
Anne.”
Why not? ”
“ ' Cause I don't think it would be nice to talk to God
before strangers , Anne. Dora can say hers to Mrs.
Lynde if she likes, but I won't . I'll wait till she's gone
and then say 'em. Won't that be all right, Anne ?
7
“ Yes, if you are sure you won't forget to say them,

Davy -boy.”
“ Oh, I won't forget, you bet. I think saying my
prayers is great fun. But it won't be as good fun saye
ing them alone as saying them to you. I wish you'd
stay home, Anne. I don't see what you want to go
away and leave us for . ”
“ I don't exactly want to, Davy, but I feel I ought

to go .”
“ If you don't want to go you needn't. You're
grown up. When I'm grown up I'm not going to do
one single thing I don't want to do, Anne."
“ All your life, Davy, you'll find yourself doing
things you don't want to do.”
“ I won't, ” said Davy flatly. Catch me ! I have
to do things I don't want to now, 'cause you and Ma
rilla'll send me to bed if I don't. But when I grow
up you can't do that, and there'll be nobody to tell me
not to do things. Won't I have the time ! Say, Anne,
Milty Boulter says his mother says you're going to
college to see if you can catch a man. Are you, Anne ?
I want to know .”
For a second Anne burned with resentment. Then
she laughed, reminding herself that Mrs. Boulter's
crude vulgarity of thought and speech could not harm
her.
“ No, Davy, I'm not. I'm going to study and grow

and learn about many things.”
“ What things ? ”
Shoes and ships and sealing wax
And cabbages and kings,'
quoted Anne.
“ But if you did want to catch a man how would you
go about it ? I want to know , " persisted Davy, for
whom the subject evidently possessed a certain fascina
tivn .
“ You'd better ask Mrs. Boulter," said Anne thought
lessly. “ I think it's likely she knows more about the

process than I do .”
“ I will, the next time I see her,” said Davy gravely.
Davy ! If you do ! ” cried Anne, realizing her
mistake .
“ But you just told me to ," protested Davy ag
grieved.
“ It's time you went to bed , ” decreed Anne, by way
of getting out of the scrape.
After Davy had gone to bed Anne wandered down
to Victoria Island and sat there alone, curtained with
fine-spun, moonlit gloom, while the water laughed
around her in a duet of brook and wind. Anne had
always loved that brook. Many a dream had she spun
over its sparkling water in days gone by. She forgot
love-lorn youths, and the cayenne speeches of malicious
neighbours, and all the problems of her girlish exist
ence. In imagination she sailed over storied seas that
wash the distant shining shores of " faëry lands for
>
lorn , ” where lost Atlantis and Elysium lie, with the

evening star for pilot, to the land of Heart's Desire,
And she was richer in those dreams than in realities ;
for things seen pass away, but the things that are un
seen are eternal .
CHAPTER II
GARLANDS OF AUTUMN
The following week sped swiftly, crowded with in

numerable“ last things," as Anne called them. Good
bye calls had to be made and received , being pleasant
or otherwise, according to whether callers and called
upon were heartily in sympathy with Anne's hopes, or
thought she was too much puffed -up over going to col
lege and that it was their duty to “ take her down a
peg or two."
The A.V.I.S. gave a farewell party in honour of
Anne and Gilbert one evening at the home of Josie Pye,
choosing that place, partly because Mr. Pye's house
was large and convenient, partly because it was strongly
suspected that the Pye girls would have nothing to do
with the affair if their offer of the house for the party
was not accepted. It was a very pleasant little time,
for the Pye girls were gracious, and said and did
nothing to mar the harmony of the occasion — which
-
was not according to their wont. Josie was unusually

amiable — so much so that she even remarked con
descendingly to Anne,
Your new dress is rather becoming to you , Anne.
Really, you look almost pretty in it.”
“ How kind of you to say so ." responded Anne,
1
GARLANDS OF AUTUMN 13
with dancing eyes. Her sense of humour was develop

ing, and the speeches that would have hurt her at four
teen were becoming merely food for amusement now.
Josie suspected that Anne was laughing at her behind
those wicked eyes ; but she contented herself with whis
pering to Gertie, as they went down-stairs, that Anne
Shirley would put on more airs than ever now that she
was going to college —- you'd see !
All the “ old crowd ” was there, full of mirth and
zest and youthful light-heartedness. Diana Barry,
rosy and dimpled, shadowed by the faithful Fred ; Jane
Andrews , neat and sensible and plain ; Ruby Gillis,
looking her handsomest and brightest in a cream silk
blouse, with red geraniums in her golden hair ; Gilbert
Blythe and Charlie Sloane , both trying to keep as near
the elusive Anne as possible ; Carrie Sloane, looking
pale and melancholy because, so it was reported, her
father would not allow Oliver Kimball to come near
the place ; Moody Spurgeon MacPherson , whose round
face and objectionable ears were as round and objec
tionable as ever ; and Billy Andrews , who sat in a
corner all the evening, chuckled when any one spoke to
him, and watched Anne Shirley with a grin of pleasure
on his broad , freckled countenance .
Anne had known beforehand of the party, but she
had not known that she and Gilbert were, as the
founders of the Society, to be presented with a very
complimentary " address ” and “ tokens of respect ”
in her case a volume of Shakespeare's plays, in Gilbert's
a fountain pen. She was so taken by surprise and
pleased by the nice things said in the address, read in

Moody Spurgeon's most solemn and ministerial tones,
that the tears quite drowned the sparkle of her big gray
eyes. She had worked hard and faithfully for the
A.V.I.S., and it warmed the cockles of her heart that
the members appreciated her efforts so sincerely. And
they were all so nice and friendly and jolly — even the
Pye girls had their merits ; at that moment Anne loved
all the world.
She enjoyed the evening tremendously, but the end of
it rather spoiled all. Gilbert again made the mistake of
saying something sentimental to her as they ate their
supper on the moonlit verandah ; and Anne, to punish
him, was gracious to Charlie Sloane and allowed the
latter to walk home with her. She found, however,
that revenge hurts nobody quite so much as the one who
tries to inflict it. Gilbert walked airily off with Ruby
Gillis, and Anne could hear them laughing and talking
gaily as they loitered along in the still, crisp autumn
air. They were evidently having the best of good
times, while she was horribly bored by Charlie Sloane,
who talked unbrokenly on, and never, even by accident,
said one thing that was worth listening to. Anne gave
an occasional absent “ yes ” or “ no, ” and thought how
beautiful Ruby had looked that night, how very goggly
Charlie's eyes were in the moonlight — worse even than
by daylight — and that the world, somehow, wasn't
quite such aa nice place as she had believed it to be earlier
in the evening.
“ I'm just tired out that is what is the matter with
-
me, ” she said, when she thankfully found herself alone

in her own room . And she honestly believed it was.
But a certain little gush of joy, as from some secret,
unknown spring, bubbled up in her heart the next even
ing, when she saw Gilbert striding down through the
Haunted Wood and crossing the old log bridge with
that firm , quick step of his. So Gilbert was not going
to spend this last evening with Ruby Gillis after all !
“ You look tired , Anne,” he said.
“ I am tired, and, worse than that, I'm disgruntled.
I'm tired because I've been packing my trunk and sew
ing all day. But I'm disgruntled because six women
have been here to say good-bye to me, and every one
of the six managed to say something that seemed to
take the colour right out of life and leave it as gray and
dismal and cheerless as a November morning.”
Spiteful old cats ! ” was Gilbert's elegant comment.
“ Oh, no, they weren't,” said Anne seriously.
“ That is just the trouble. If they had been spiteful
cats I wouldn't have minded them. But they are all
nice, kind, motherly souls, who like me and whom I
like, and that is why what they said, or hinted, had
such undue weight with me. They let me see they
thought I was crazy going to Redmond and trying to
take aа . B.A. , and ever since I've been wondering if I am.
Mrs. Peter Sloane sighed and said she hoped my
strength would hold out till I got through ; and at once
I saw myself a hopeless victim of nervous prostration
at the end of my third year ; Mrs. Eben Wright said it
must cost an awful lot to put in four years at Red
mond ; and I felt all over me that it was unpardonable

in me to squander Marilla's money and my own on
such a folly ; Mrs. Jasper Bell said she hoped I wouldn't
let college spoil me, as it did some people ; and I felt in
my bones that the end of my four Redmond years
would see me a most insufferable creature, thinking I
knew it all, and looking down on everything and every
body in Avonlea ; Mrs. Elisha Wright said she under
stood that Redmond girls, especially those who be
longed to Kingsport, were ' dreadful dressy and stuck
up,' and she guessed I wouldn't feel much at home
among them ; and I saw myself, a snubbed, dowdy,
humiliated country girl, shuffling through Redmond's
classic halls in copper -toed boots. ”
Anne ended with a laugh and a sigh commingled.
With her sensitive nature all disapproval had weight,
even the disapproval of those for whose opinions she
had scant respect. For the time being life was savour
less, and ambition had gone out like a snuffed candle.
“ You surely don't care for what they said ,” pro
tested Gilbert. You know exactly how narrow their
outlook on life is, excellent creatures though they are .
To do anything they have never done is anathema
maranatha. You are the first Avonlea girl who has
ever gone to college; and you know that all pioneers
are considered to be afflicted with moonstruck mad
ness.”
“ Oh, I know . But feeling is so different from
knowing. My common sense tells me all you can say,
but there are times when common sense has no power
over me. Common nonsense takes possession of my

soul. Really, after Mrs. Elisha went away I hardly
had the heart to finish packing.”
“ You're just tired, Anne. Come, forget it all and
take a walk with me --aa ramble back through the
woods beyond the marsh. There should be something
there I want to show you .”
“ Should be ! Don't you know if it is there? ”
“ No. I only know it should be, from something I
saw there in spring. Come on. We'll pretend we are
two children again and we'll go the way of the wind.”
They started gaily off. Anne, remembering the un
pleasantness of the preceding evening, was very nice
to Gilbert ; and Gilbert, who was learning wisdom, took
care to be nothing save the schoolboy comrade again.
Mrs. Lynde and Marilla watched them from the kitchen
window.
That'll be a match some day , ” Mrs. Lynde said
approvingly.
Marilla winced slightly. In her heart she hoped it
would, but it went against her grain to hear the matter
spoken of in Mrs. Lynde's gossipy matter-of-fact way.
* They're only children yet,” she said shortly.
Mrs. Lynde laughed good -naturedly.
Anne is eighteen ; I was married when I was that
age. We old folks, Marilla, are too much given to
thinking children never grow up, that's what. Anne is
a young woman and Gilbert's a man, and he worships
the ground she walks on, as any one can see. He's a
fine fellow . and Anne can't do better . I hope she won't,
get any romantic nonsense into her head at Redmond.

I don't approve of them co-educational places and never
did, that's what. I don't believe," concluded Mrs.
Lynde solemnly, “ that the students at such colleges
ever do much else than Airt."
They must study a little,” said Marilla, with a
smile.
Precious little,” sniffed Mrs. Rachel. “ However,
I think Anne will. She never was flirtatious. But
(she doesn't appreciate Gilbert at his full value, that's
what. Oh, I know girls ! Charlie Sloane is wild
about her, too, but I'd never advise her to marry k
Sloane. The Sloanes are good, honest, respectable
people, of course. But when all's said and done
they're Sloanes. ”
Marilla nodded. To an outsider, the statement that
Sloanes were Sloanes might not be very illuminating,
but she understood. Every village has such a family ;
good, honest, respectable people they may be, but
Sloanes they are and must ever remain, though they
speak with the tongues of men and angels.
Gilbert and Anne, happily unconscious that their
future was thus being settled by Mrs. Rachel, were
sauntering through the shadows of the Haunted Wood.
Beyond, the harvest hills were basking in an amber sun
set radiance, under a pale, aerial sky of rose and blue.
The distant spruce groves were burnished bronze, and
their long shadows barred the upland meadows. But
around them a little wind sang among the fir tassels,
and in it there was the note of autumn.
“ This wood really is haunted now - by old mem

ories,” said Anne, stooping to gather a spray of ferns,
bleached to waxen whiteness by frost. “ It seems to
me that the little girls Diana and I used to be play here
still, and sit by the Dryad's Bubble in the twilights,
trysting with the ghosts . Do you know, I can never
go up this path in the dusk without feeling a bit of the
old fright and shiver ? There was one especially horri
fying phantom which we created —- the ghost of the
murdered child that crept up behind you and laid cold
fingers on yours. I confess that, to this day, I cannot
help fancying its little, furtive footsteps behind me
when I come here after nightfall. I'm not afraid of
the White Lady or the headless man or the skeletons,
but I wish I had never imagined that baby's ghost into
existence. How angry Marilla and Mrs. Barry were
over that affair,” concluded Anne, with reminiscent
laughter.
The woods around the head of the marsh were full
of purple vistas, threaded with gossamers. Past a
dour plantation of gnarled spruces and a maple- fringed,
sun -warm valley they found the “ something ” Gilbert
was looking for.
Ah, here it is,” he said with satisfaction.
An apple tree and away back here ! ” exclaimed
Anne delightedly .
“ Yes, a veritable apple-bearing apple tree, too, here
in the very midst of pines and beeches, a mile away
from any orchard. I was here one day last spring and
found it, all white with blossom. So I resolved I'd r
come again in the fall and see if it had been apples.

See, it's loaded. They look good, too — tawny as rús
sets but with a dusky red cheek . Most wild seedlings
are green and uninviting."
“ I suppose it sprang years ago from some chance
sown seed ,” said Anne dreamily. “And how it has
grown and flourished and held its own here all alone
among aliens, the brave determined thing !”
“ Here's a fallen tree with a cushion of moss. Sit
down, Anne —- it will serve for a woodland throne.
-
I'll climb for some apples. They all grow high — the
tree had to reach up to the sunlight.”
The apples proved to be delicious. Under the tawny
skin was a white, white flesh, faintly veined with red ;
and, besides their own proper apple taste, they had a
certain wild, delightful tang no orchard - grown apple
ever possessed.
“ The fatal apple of Eden couldn't have had a rarer
flavour,” commented Anne. But it's time we were
going home. See, it was twilight three minutes ago
and now it's moonlight. What a pity we couldn't have
caught the moment of transformation. But such mo
ments never are caught, I suppose.”
“ Let's go back around the marsh and home by way
of Lover's Lane. Do you feel as disgruntled now as
when you started out, Anne? ”
“ Not I. Those apples have been as manna to a
hungry soul. I feel that I shall love Redmond and
have a splendid four years there."
“ And after those four years - what ? "
“ Oh, there's another bend in the road at their end ,”

answered Anne lightly. “ I've no idea what may be
around it — I don't want to have. It's nicer not to
know ."
Lover's Lane was a dear place that night, still and
mysteriously dim in the pale radiance of the moonlight.
They loitered through it in a pleasant chummy silence,
neither caring to talk.
“ If Gilbert were always as he has been this evening
how nice and simple everything would be,” reflected
Anne.
Gilbert was looking at Anne, as she walked along.

In her light dress, with her slender delicacy, she made
him think of a white iris.
" I wonder if I can ever make her care for me," he
thought, with a pang of self-distrust.
CHAPTER III
GREETING AND FAREWELL
CHARLIE SLOANE, Gilbert Blythe and Anne Shirley

left Avonlea the following Monday morning. Anne
had hoped for a fine day. Diana was to drive her to
the station and they wanted this, their last drive to
gether for some time, to be a pleasant one. But when
Anne went to bed Sunday night the east wind was
moaning around Green Gables with an ominous proph
ecy which was fulfilled in the morning. Anne awoke
to find raindrops pattering against her window and
shadowing the pond's gray surface with widening
rings ; hills and sea were hidden in mist, and the whole
world seemed dim and dreary. Anne dressed in the
cheerless gray dawn, for an early start was necessary
to catch the boat train ; she struggled against the tears
that would well up in her eyes in spite of herself. She
was leaving the home that was so dear to her, and
something told her that she was leaving it forever, save
as a holiday refuge. Things would never be the same
again ; coming back for vacations would not be living
there. And oh , how dear and beloved everything was
that little white porch room , sacred to the dreams of
girlhood, the old Snow Queen at the window, the brook
in the hollow, the Dryad's Bubble, the Haunted Wood,
22
GREETING AND FAREWELL 23
and Lover's Lane all the thousand and one dear

spots where memories of the old years bided. Could
she ever be really happy anywhere else ?
Breakfast at Green Gables that morning was a rather
doleful meal. Davy, for the first time in his life prob
ably, could not eat, but blubbered shamelessly over his
porridge. Nobody else seemed to have much appetite,
save Dora, who tucked away her rations comfortably.
Dora, like the immortal and most prudent Charlotte,
who went on cutting bread and butter ” when her
frenzied lover's body had been carried past on a shutter,
was one of those fortunate creatures who are seldom
disturbed by anything. Even at eight it took a great
deal to ruffle Dora's placidity. She was sorry Anne
was going away, of course, but was that any reason
why she should fail to appreciate a poached egg on
toast ? Not at all. And, seeing that Davy could not
eat his, Dora ate it for him.
Promptly on time Diana appeared with horse and
buggy, her rosy face glowing above her raincoat. The
good -byes had to be said then somehow. Mrs. Lynde
came in from her quarters to give Anne a hearty em
brace and warn her to be careful of her health, what
ever she did. Marilla,, brusque and tearless, pecked
Anne's cheek and said she supposed they'd hear from
her when she got settled. A casual observer might
have concluded that Anne's going mattered very little
to her unless said observer had happened to get a
good look in her eyes. Dora kissed Anne primly and
squeezed out two decorous little tears ; but Davy, who
had been crying on the back porch step ever since they
rose from the table, refused to say good -bye at all.
When he saw Anne coming towards him he sprang to
his feet, bolted up the back stairs and hid in a clothes
closet, out of which he would not come. His muffled
howls were the last sounds Anne heard as she left
Green Gables .
It rained heavily all the way to Bright River, to
which station they had to go, since the branch line train
from Carmody did not connect with the boat train.
Charlie and Gilbert were on the station platform when
they reached it, and the train was whistling. Anne had
just time to get her ticket and trunk check, say a hur
ried farewell to Diana, and hasten on board . She
wished she were going back with Diana to Avonlea ; she
knew she was going to die of homesickness. And oh,
if only that dismal rain would stop pouring down as if
the whole world were weeping over summer vanished
and joys departed ! Even Gilbert's presence brought
her no comfort, for Charlie Sloane was there, too, and
Sloanishness could be tolerated only in fine weather.
It was absolutely insufferable in rain.
But when the boat steamed out of Charlottetown
harbour things took a turn for the better. The rain
ceased and the sun began to burst out goldenly now and
again between the rents in the clouds, burnishing the
gray seas with copper-hued radiance, and lighting up
the mists that curtained the Island's red shores with
gleams of gold foretokening a fine day after all. Be
sides, Charlie Sloane promptly became so seasick that
he had to go below, and Anne and Gilbert were left

alone on deck .
“ I am very glad that all the Sloanes get seasick as
soon as they go on water,” thought Anne mercilessly.
“ I am sure I couldn't take my farewell look at the
‘ ould sod ' with Charlie standing there pretending to
look sentimentally at it, too.”
“ Well, we're off,” remarked Gilbert unsentimentally.
6
“ Yes, I feel like Byron's ‘ Childe Harold - only

it isn't really my ' native shore ’' that I'm watching ,”
said Anne, winking her gray eyes vigorously. “Nova
Scotia is that, I suppose. But one's native shore is the
land one loves the best, and that's good old P.E.I. for
me. I can't believe I didn't always live here. Those
eleven years before I came seem like a bad dream . It's
seven years since I crossed on this boat — the evening
.
Mrs. Spencer brought me over from Hopetown. I can

see myself, in that dreadful old wincey dress and faded
sailor hat, exploring decks and cabins with enraptured
curiosity. It was a fine evening ; and how those red
Island shores did gleam in the sunshine. Now I'm
crossing the strait again. Oh, Gilbert, I do hope I'll
like Redmond and Kingsport, but I'm sure I won't ! ”
“ Where's all your philosophy gone,, Anne ? ”
“ It's all submerged under a great, swamping wave
of loneliness and homesickness . I've longed for three
years to go to Redmond — and now I'm going — and
I wish I weren't ! Never mind ! I shall be cheerful
and philosophical again after I have just one good cry.
I must have that, “ as a went — and I'll have to wait
until I get into my boarding -house bed to -night, wher

ever it may be, before I can have it. Then Anne will
be herself again. I wonder if Davy has come out of
the closet yet.”
It was nine that night when their train reached
Kingsport, and they found themselves in the blue -white
glare of the crowded station . Anne felt horribly be
wildered, but a moment later she was seized by Priscilla
Grant, who had come to Kingsport on Saturday.
“ Here you are, beloved ! And I suppose you're as
tired as I was when I got here Saturday night .”
“ Tired ! Priscilla, don't talk of it. I'm tired, and
green , and provincial, and only about ten years old.
For pity's sake take your poor, broken-down chum to
some place where she can hear herself think.”
“ I'll take you right up to our boarding -house. I've
a cab ready outside. ”
“ It's such a blessing you're here, Prissy. If you
weren't I think I should just sit down on my suit-case,
here and now, and weep bitter tears. What aа . comfort
one familiar face is in a howling wilderness of
strangers ! ”
“ Is that Gilbert Blythe over there, Anne ? How
he has grown up this past year ! He was only a school
boy when I taught in Carmody. And of course that's
Charlie Sloane. He hasn't changed — couldn't ! He
-
looked just like that when he was born, and he'll look
like that when he's eighty. This way, dear. We'll be
home in twenty minutes.”
“ Home! ” groaned Anne. You mean we'll be ir
some horrible boarding-house, in aa still more horrible

hall bedroom , looking out on a dingy back yard.”
“ It isn't a horrible boarding-house, Anne-girl.
Here's our cab . Hop in — the driver will get your
.
trunk. Oh, yes, the boarding -house — it's really a

C
very nice place of its kind, as you'll admit to -mor

row morning when a good night's sleep has turned your
blues rosy pink. It's a big, old fashioned, gray stone
house on St. John Street, just a nice little constitutional
from Redmond. It used to be the residence of
great folk, but fashion has deserted St. John Street and
its houses only dream now of better days. They're
so big that the people living in them have to take board
ers just to fill up. At least, that is the reason our land
ladies are very anxious to impress on us. They're de
licious, Anne-
- our landladies, I mean .”
66
How many are there ? ”
“ Two. Miss Hannah Harvey and Miss Ada Har
vey. They were born twins about fifty years ago."
“ I can't get away from twins, it seems,” smiled
Anne. “ Wherever I go they confrontme. ”
Oh, they're not twins now, dear. After they
reached the age of thirty they never were twins again.
Miss Hannah has grown old, not too gracefully, and
Miss Ada has stayed thirty, less gracefully still. I
don't know whether Miss Hannah can smile or not ;'
I've never caught her at it so far, but Miss Ada smiles
all the time and that's worse. However, they're nice,
kind souls, and they take two boarders every year be-,
cause Miss Hannah's economical soul cannot bear to
waste room space '— not because they need to or

have to, as Miss Ada has told me seven times since
Saturday night. As for our rooms, I admit they are
hall bedrooms, and mine does look out on the back yard.
Your room is a front one and looks out on Old St.
John's graveyard, which is just across the street .”
“ That sounds gruesome,” shivered Anne. “ I think
I'd rather have the back yard view ."
Oh, no, you wouldn't. Wait and see. Old St.
John's is a darling place. It's been a graveyard so long
that it's ceased to be one and has become one of the
sights of Kingsport. I was all through it yesterday for
a pleasure exertion. There's a big stone wall and a
row of enormous trees all round it, and rows of trees
all through it, and the queerest old tombstones, with the
queerest and quaintest inscriptions. You'll go there
to study, Anne, see if you don't. Of course, nobody is
ever buried there now . But a few years ago they put
up a beautiful monument to the memory of Nova Sco
tian soldiers who fell in the Crimean War. It is just
opposite the entrance gates and there's scope for
imagination ’ in it, as you used to say. Here's your
trunk at last and the boys coming to say good -night.
Must I really shake hands with Charlie Sloane, Anne ?
His hands are always so cold and fishy -feeling. We
must ask them to call occasionally. Miss Hannah
gravely told me we could have ' young gentlemen call
ers ' two evenings in the week , if they went away at a
reasonable hour ; and Miss Ada asked me, smiling,
please to be sure they didn't sit on her beautiful
cushions. I promised to see to it ; but goodness knows

where else they can sit, unless they sit on the floor, for
there are cushions on everything. Miss Ada even has
an elaborate Battenburg one on top of the piano.”
Anne was laughing by this time. Priscilla's gay
chatter had the intended effect of cheering her up ;
homesickness vanished for the time being, and did not
even return in full force when she finally found herself
alone in her little bedroom. She went to her window
and looked out. The street below was dim and quiet .
Across it the moon was shining above the trees in Old
St. John's, just behind the great dark head of the lion
on the monument. Anne wondered if it could have
been only that morning that she had left Green Gables.
She had the sense of a long passage of time which one
day of change and travel gives.
“ I suppose that very moon is looking down on
Green Gables now ," she mused. But I won't think
about it that way homesickness lies. I'm not even
going to have my good cry. I'll put that off to a more
convenient season, and just now I'll go calmly and
sensibly to bed and to sleep.”
CHAPTER IV
APRIL'S LADY
KINGSPORT is a quaint old town, hearking back to

early Colonial days, and wrapped in its ancient atmos
phere, as some fine old dame in garments fashioned
like those of her youth. Here and there it sprouts out
into modernity, but at heart it is still unspoiled ; it is
full of curious relics, and haloed by the romance of
many legends of the past. Once it was a mere frontier
station on the fringe of the wilderness, and those were
the days when Indians kept life from being monotonous
to the settlers. Then it grew to be a bone of conten
tion between the British and the French, being occupied
now by the one and now by the other, emerging from
each occupation with some fresh scar of battling na
tions branded on it.
It has in its park a martello tower, autographed all
over by tourists, a dismantled old French fort on the
hills beyond the town, and several antiquated cannon
in its public squares. It has other historic spots also,
which may be hunted out by the curious, and none is
more quaint and delightful than Old St. John's Ceme
tery at the very core of the town, with streets of quiet,
old-time houses on two sides, and busy, bustling,
modern thoroughfares on the others. Every citizen of
30
APRIL'S LADY 31
Kingsport feels a thrill of possessive pride in Old St.

John's, for, if he be of any pretensions at all, he has an
ancestor buried there, with a queer, crooked slab at his
head, or else sprawling protectively over the grave, on
which all the main facts of his history are recorded.
For the most part no great art or skill was lavished on
those old tombstones. The larger number are of
roughly chiselled brown or gray native stone, and only
in a few cases is there any attempt at ornamentation .
Some are adorned with skull and cross-bones, and this
grizzly decoration is frequently coupled with aa cherub's
head. Many are prostrate and in ruins. Into almost
all Time's tooth has been gnawing, until some inscrip
tions have been completely effaced, and others can only
be deciphered with difficulty. The graveyard is very
full and very bowery, for it is surrounded and inter
sected by rows of elms and willows, beneath whose
shade the sleepers must lie very dreamlessly, forever
crooned to by the winds and leaves over them, and quite
andisturbed by the clamour of traffic just beyond.
Anne took the first of many rambles in Old St.
John's the next afternoon . She and Priscilla had gone
to Redmond in the forenoon and registered as stu
dents, after which there was nothing more to do that
day. The girls gladly made their escape, for it was
not exhilarating to be surrounded by crowds of stran
gers, most of whom had a rather alien appearance, as
if not quite sure where they belonged.
The “ freshettes ” stood about in detached groups
of two or three, looking askance at each other ; the
freshies, ” wiser in their day and generation , had

banded themselves together on the big staircase of the
entrance hall, where they were shouting out glees with
all the vigour of youthful lungs, as a species of defiance
to their traditional enemies, the Sophomores, a few
of whom were prowling loftily about, looking properly
disdainful of the “ unlicked cubs ” on the stairs. Gil
bert and Charlie were nowhere to be seen.
“ Little did I think the day would ever come when
I'd be glad of the sight of a Sloane,” said Priscilla,
as they crossed the campus, “ but I'd welcome Charlie's
goggle eyes almost ecstatically. At least, they'd be
familiar eyes.”
Oh,” sighed Anne. “ I can't describe how I felt
when I was standing there, waiting my turn to be
registered — as insignificant as the teeniest drop in a
most enormous bucket. It's bad enough to feel in
significant, but it's unbearable to have it grained into
your soul that you will never, can never, be anything
but insignificant, and that is how I did feel — as if I
were invisible to the naked eye and some of those
Sophs might step on me. I knew I would go down
to my grave unwept, unhonoured and unsung."
“ Wait till next year," comforted Priscilla. “ Then
we'll be able to look as bored and sophisticated as any
Sophomore of them all. No doubt it is rather dread
ful to feel insignificant; but I think it's better than to
feel as big and awkward as I did — as if I were
sprawled aħ over Redmond. That's how I felt - I
suppose because I was a good two inches taller than
APRIL'S LADY 33
any one else in the crowd. I wasn't afraid a Soph

might walk over me ; I was afraid they'd take me for
an elephant, or an overgrown sample of a potato - fed
Islander.”
“ I suppose the trouble is we can't forgive big Red
mond for not being little Queen's ,” said Anne, gather
ing about her the shreds of her old cheerful philosophy
to cover her nakedness of spirit. “ When we left
Queen's we knew everybody and had a place of our
own. I suppose we have been unconsciously expecting
to take life up at Redmond just where we left off at
Queen's , and now we feel as if the ground had slipped
from under our feet. I'm thankful that neither Mrs.
Lynde nor Mrs. Elisha Wright know, or ever will
know, my state of mind at present . They would exult
in saying ' I told you so,' and be convinced it was the
beginning of the end. Whereas it is just the end of the
beginning .”
Exactly. That sounds more Anneish. In a little
while we'll be acclimated and acquainted, and all will
be well. Anne, did you notice the girl who stood alone
just outside the door of the co-eds' dressing room all
the morning — the pretty one with the brown eyes and
crooked mouth ? ”
“Yes, I did. I noticed her particularly because she
seemed the only creature there who looked as lonely
and friendless as I felt. I had you, but she had no
one.”
“ I think she felt pretty all-by -herselfish, too. Sev
eral times I saw her make a motion as if to cross over
to us, but she never did it too shy, I suppose. I

wished she would come. If I hadn't felt so much like
the aforesaid elephant I'd have gone to her. But I
couldn't lumber across that big hall with all those boys
howling on the stairs. She was the prettiest freshette
I saw to-day, but probably favour is deceitful and even
beauty is vain on your first day at Redmond , ” con
cluded Priscilla with aa laugh.
“ I'm going across to Old St. John's after lunch ,”
said Anne. “ I don't know that a graveyard is a very
good place to go to get cheered up,, but it seems the only
get-at-able place where there are trees, and trees I must
have. I'll sit on one of those old slabs and shut my
eyes and imagine I'm in the Avonlea woods. ”
Anne did not do that, however, for she found
enough of interest in Old St. John's to keep her eyes
wide open. They went in by the entrance gates, past
the simple, massive, stone arch surmounted by the
great lion of England.
“ And on Inkerman yet the wild bramble is gory ,
And those bleak heights henceforth shall be famous
in story,' ”
quoted Anne , looking at it with a thrill. They found
themselves in a dim, cool, green place where winds
were fond of purring. Up and down the long grassy
aisles they wandered , reading the quaint, voluminous
epitaphs , carved in an age that had more leisure than
our own .
‫در و‬
“ Here lieth the body of Albert Crawford, Esq .,'
read Anne from a worn, gray slab, “ . for many years
APRIL'S LADY 35
Keeper of His Majesty's Ordnance at Kingsport. He

served in the army till the peace of 1763 , when he re
tired from bad health. He was a brave officer, the
best of husbands, the best of fathers, the best of
friends. He died October 29th, 1792, aged 84 years.'
There's an epitaph for you, Prissy. There is certainly
some ' scope for imagination’in it. How full such a
life must have been of adventure ! And as for his per
sonal qualities, I'm sure human eulogy couldn't go
further. I wonder if they told him he was all those
best things while he was alive.”
“ Here's another , ” said Priscilla. “ Listen — ' To
the memory of Alexander Ross, who died on the 22nd
of September, 1840, aged 43 years. This is raised as
a tribute of affection by one whom he served so faith
fully for 27 years that he was regarded as a friend, de
serving the fullest confidence and attachment.' ”
A very god epitaph , ” commented Anne thought
fully. “ I wouldn't wish a better. We are all serva
ants of some sort, and if the fact that we are faithful
can be truthfully inscribed on our tombstones nothing
more need be added. Here's a sorrowful little gray
stone, Prissy -' to the memory of a favourite child.'
6
And here is another ' erected to the memory of one

who is buried elsewhere. ' I wonder where that uns
known grave is. Really, Pris, the graveyards of to
day will never be as interesting as this. You were
right — I shall come here often. I love it already.
I see we're not alone here --- there's a girl down at the
end of this avenue."
“ Yes, and I believe it's the very girl we saw at

Redmond this morning. I've been watching her for
five minutes. She has started to come up the avenue
exactly half a dozen times, and half a dozen times has
she turned and gone back. Either she's dreadfully
shy or she has got something on her conscience. Let's
go and meet her. It's easier to get acquainted in a
graveyard than at Redmond, I believe.”
They walked down the long grassy arcade towards
the stranger, who was sitting on a gray slab under an
enormous willow. She was certainly very pretty, with
a vivid, irregular, bewitching type of prettiness.
There was a gloss as of brown nuts on her satin-smooth
hair and a soft, ripe glow on her round cheeks. Her
eyes were big and brown and velvety, under oddly
pointed black brows, and her crooked mouth was rose
red. She wore a smart brown suit, with two very mod
ish little shoes peeping from beneath it ; and her hat of
dull pink straw, wreathed with golden-brown pop
pies, had the indefinable, unmistakable air which per
tains to the “ creation ” of an artist in millinery.
Priscilla had a sudden stinging consciousness that her
own hat had been trimmed by her village store milliner,
and Anne wondered uncomfortably if the blouse she
had made herself, and which Mrs. Lynde had fitted,
looked very countrified and home-made besides the
stranger's smart attire. For a moment both girls felt
like turning back.
But they had already stopped and turned towards
the gray slab.. It was too late to retreat, for the
APRIL'S LADY 37
brown-eyed girl had evidently concluded that they were

con ing to speak to her. Instantly she sprang up and
carne forward with outstretched hand and a gay,
friendly smile in which there seemed not a shadow of
either shyness or burdened conscience.
“ Oh , I want to know who you two girls are, " she
exclaimed eagerly. “ I've been dying to know. I saw
you at Redmond this morning. Say, wasn't it awful
there ? For the time I wished I had stayed home and
got married.”
Anne and Priscilla both broke into unconstrained
laughter at this unexpected conclusion. The brown
eyed girl laughed, too.
“ I really did. I could have, you know. Come,
let's all sit down on this gravestone and get acquainted.
It won't be hard. I know we're going to adore each
other I knew it as soon as I saw you at Redmond
this morning. I wanted so much to go right over and
hug you both .”
Why didn't you ? ” asked Priscilla.
“ Because I simply couldn't make up my mind to do
it. I never can make up my mind about anything
myself —
- I'm always afflicted with indecision. Just
-
as soon as I decide to do something I feel in my bones

that another course would be the correct one. It's a
dreadful misfortune, but I was born that way, and
there is no use in blaming me for it, as some people
do. So I couldn't make up my mind to go and speak
to you, much as I wanted to."
9
“ We thought you were too shy , ” said Anne.
No, no, dear. Shyness isn't among the many fail
ings — or virtues — of Philippa Gordon — Phil for
short. Do call me Phil right off. Now, what are
your handles ? "
“ She's Priscilla Grant,” said Anne, pointing.
“ And she's Anne Shirley," said Priscilla, pointing
in turn .
“ And we're from the Island,” said both together.
“ I hail from Bolingbroke, Nova Scotia, ” said
Philippa .
Bolingbroke !” exclaimed Anne. “Why, that is
where I was born ."
Do you really mean it ? Why, that makes you a
Bluenose after all.”
“ No, it doesn't,” retorted Anne. “ Wasn't it Dan
O'Connell who said that if a man was born in a sta
ble it didn't make him a horse ? I'm Island to the
core .”
“ Well, I'm glad you were born in Bolingbroke any

way. It makes us kind of neighbours, doesn't it ?
And I like that, because when I tell you secrets it won't
be as if I were telling them to a stranger. I have to
tell them. I can't keep secrets — it's no use to try.
That's my worst failing — that, and indecision, as
aforesaid. Would you believe it ? — it took me half
an hour to decide what hat to wear when I was com
ing here — here, to a graveyard ! At first I inclined
to my brown one with the feather ; but as soon as I
put it on I thought this pink one with the floppy brim
would be more becoming. When I got it pinned in
APRIL'S LADY 39
place I liked the brown one better. At last I put theny

close together on the bed, shut my eyes, and jabbed
with a hat pin. The pin speared the pink one, so I put
it on . It is becoming, isn't it ? Tell me, what do you
think of my looks ? ”
At this naïve demand, made in a perfectly serious
tone, Priscilla laughed again . But Anne said, impul
sively squeezing Philippa's hand,
“ We thought this morning that you were the pretti
est girl we saw at Redmond.”
Philippa's crooked mouth flashed into a bewitching,
crooked smile over very white little teeth.
9
“ I thought that myself,” was her next astounding
statement, “ but I wanted some one else's opinion to
bolster mine up. I can't decide even on my own ap
pearance. Just as soon as I've decided that I'm pretty
I begin to feel miserably that I'm not. Besides, I have
a horrible old great-aunt who is always saying to me,
with a mournful sigh, “ You were such a pretty baby.
It's strange how children change when they grow up.'
I adore aunts, but I detest great-aunts. Please tell me
quite often that I am pretty, if you don't mind. I feel
so much more comfortable when I can believe I'm
pretty. And I'll be just as obliging to you if you want
me to — I can be, with aa clear conscience."
Thanks,” laughed Anne, “ but Priscilla and I are so
firmly convinced of our own good looks that we don't
need any assurance about them, so you needn't
trouble . "
“ Oh, you're laughing at me. I know you think I'm
abominably vain, but I'm not. There really isn't one

spark of vanity in me. And I'm never a bit grudging
about paying compliments to other girls when they de
serve them. I'm so glad I know you folks. I came
up on Saturday and I've nearly died of homesickness
ever since. It's a horrible feeling, isn't it ? In Bol
ingbroke I'm an important personage, and in Kingsport
I'm just nobody ! There were times when I could feel
my soul turning a delicate blue. Where do you hang
out ? ”
“ Thirty -eight St. John's Street. ”
Better and better. Why, I'm just around the cor
ner on Wallace Street. I don't like my boarding-house,
though . It's bleak and lonesome, and my room looks
out on such an unholy back yard. It's the ugliest place
in the world. As for cats well, surely all the Kings
port cats can't congregate there at night, but half of
them must. I adore cats on hearth rugs, snoozing
before nice, friendly fires, but cats in back yards at mid
night are totally different animals. The first night I
was here I cried all night, and so did the cats. You
should have seen my nose in the morning. How I
wished I had never left home! ”
“ I don't know how you managed to make up your
mind to come to Redmond at all, if you are really such
an undecided person ,” said amused Priscilla.
“ Bless your heart, honey, I didn't. It was father
who wanted me to come here. His heart was set on
it - why, I don't know. It seems perfectly ridiculous
-
to think of me studying for a B.A. degree, doesn't it ?

APRIL'S LADY 41
Not but what I can do it, all right. I have heaps of

brains.”
“ Oh ! ” said Priscilla vaguely.
“ Yes. But it's such hard work to use them. And
B.A.'s are such learned, dignified, wise, solemn crea
tures — they must be. No, I didn't want to come to
Redmond. I did it just to oblige father. He is such
a duck. Besides, I knew if I stayed home I'd have to
get married. Mother wanted that — wanted it de
cidedly. Mother has plenty of decision. But I really
hated the thought of being married for a few years
yet. I want to have heaps of fun before I settle down.
And, ridiculous as the idea of my being a B.A. is, the
idea of my being an old married woman is still more
absurd, isn't it ? I'm only eighteen. No, I concluded
I would rather come to Redmond than be married.
Besides, how could I ever have made up my mind which
man to marry ? ”
“ Were there so many? ” laughed Anne.
Heaps. The boys like me awfully — they really
do. But there were only two that mattered. The rest
were all too young and too poor. I must marry a rich
man , you know .”
“ Why must you ?
Honey, you couldn't imagine me being a poor
man's wife, could you ? I can't do a single useful
thing, and I am very extravagant. Oh, no, my hus
band must have heaps of money. So that narrowed
them down to two. But I couldn't decide between two
any easier than between two hundred. I knew per
42 ANNE OF THE ` ISLAND
fectly well that whichever one I chose I'd regret all my

life that I hadn't married the other."
“ Didn't you — love — either of them ? ” asked
-
Anne, a little hesitatingly. It was not easy for her to

speak to a stranger of the great mystery and trans
formation of life.
Goodness, no. I couldn't love anybody. It isn't
in me . Besides I wouldn't want to Being in love
makes you a perfect slave, I think . And it would give
a man such power to hurt you. I'd be afraid. No,
no, Alec and Alonzo are two dear boys, and I like them
both so much that I really don't know which I like the
better. That is the trouble. Alec is the best looking,
of course, and I simply couldn't marry a man who
wasn't handsome. He is good -tempered, too, and has
lovely, curly, black hair. He's rather too perfect - I
don't believe I'd like a perfect husband — somebody I
-
could never find fault with ."

“ Then why not marry Alonzo ? ” asked Priscilla
gravely.
“ Think of marrying a name like Alonzo ! ” said
Phil dolefully. “ I don't believe I could endure it.
But he has a classic nose, and it would be aа . comfort to
have a nose in the family that could be depended on.
I can't depend on mine. So far, it takes after the
Gordon pattern, but I'm so afraid it will develop Byrne
tendencies as I grow older. I examine it every day
anxiously to make sure it's still Gordon. Mother was
a Byrne and has the Byrne nose in the Byrnest degree.
Wait till you see it. I adore nice noses. Your nose
APRIL'S LADY 43
is awfully nice, Anne Shirley . Alonzo's nose nearly

turned the balance in his favour. But Alonzo ! No,
I couldn't decide. If I could have done as I did with
the hats -
stood them both up together, shut my eyes,
and jabbed with a hatpin — it would have been quite
C
easy."
“ What did Alec and Alonzo feel like when you came
away ? ” queried Priscilla.
Oh, they still have hope.. I told them they'd have
to wait till I could make up my mind. They're quite
willing to wait. They both worship me, you know.
Meanwhile, I intend to have a good time. I expect I
shall have heaps of beaux at Redmond. I can't be
happy unless I have, you know. But don't you think
the freshmen are fearfully homely ? I saw only one
really handsome fellow among them. He went away
before you came . I heard his chum call him Gilbert.
His chum had eyes that stuck out that far. But you're
not going yet, girls ? Don't go yet.”
“ I think we must,” said Anne, rather coldly. “ It's
getting late, and I've some work to do."
“ But you'll both come to see me, won't you ?” asked
Philippa, getting up and putting an arm around each.
“ And let me come to see you . I want to be chummy
with you. I've taken such aa fancy to you both. And
I haven't quite disgusted you with my frivolity, have
I? ”
“ Not quite,” laughed Anne, responding to Phil's
squeeze, with a return of cordiality.
Because I'm not half so silly as I seem on the sur
face, you know. You just accept Philippa Gordon, as

the Lord made her, with all her faults, and I believe
you'll come to like her. Isn't this graveyard a sweet
place ? I'd love to be buried here. Here's a grave I
didn't see before this one in the iron railing — oh ,
girls, look, see the stone says it's the grave of a
middy who was killed in the fight between the Shannon
and the Chesapeake. Just fancy ! ”
Anne paused by the railing and looked at the worn
stone, her pulses thrilling with sudden excitement.
The old graveyard, with its over-arching trees and long
aisles of shadows, faded from her sight. Instead, she
saw the Kingsport Harbor of nearly a century agone.
Out of the mist came slowly a great frigate, brilliant
with “ the meteor flag of England.” Behind her was
another, with a still, heroic form, wrapped in his own
starry flag, lying on the quarter deck — the gallant
Lawrence. Time's finger had turned back his pages,
and that was the Shannon sailing triumphant up the
bay with the Chesapeake as her prize.
Come back, Anne Shirley — come back,” laughed
Philippa, pulling her arm. “' You're a hundred years
away from us. Come back .”
Anne came back with a sigh ; her eyes were shining
softly.
“ I've always loved that old story,” she said, “and
although the English won that victory, I think it was
because of the brave, defeated commander I love it.
This grave seems to bring it so near and make it so real.
This poor little middy was only eighteen. He ‘ died
APRIL'S LADY 45
of desperate wounds received in gallant action ' - so

reads his epitaph. It is such as a soldier might wish
for.”
Before she turned away, Anne unpinned the little
cluster of purple pansies she wore and dropped it softly
on the grave of the boy who had perished in the great
sea-duel .
“ Well, what do you think of our new friend ? "
asked Priscilla, when Phil had left them .
“ I like her. There is something very lovable about
her, in spite of all her nonsense . I believe, as she says
herself, that she isn't half as silly as she sounds. She's
a dear, kissable baby and I don't know that she'll
ever really grow up . ”
“ I like her, too , ” said Priscilla decidedly. “ She
talks as much about boys as Ruby Gillis does. But it
always enrages or sickens me to hear Ruby, whereas I
just wanted to laugh good-naturedly at Phil. Now,
what is the why of that ? ”
“ There is a difference,” said Anne meditatively.
“ I think it's because Ruby is really so conscious of
boys. She plays at love and love-making. Besides,
you feel, when she is boasting of her beaux that she is
doing it to rub it well into you that you haven't half so
many. Now , when Phil talks of her beaux it sounds
as if she was just speaking of chums. She really looks
upon boys as good comrades, and she is pleased when
she has dozens of them tagging round, simply because
she likes to be popular and to be thought popular.
Even Alec and Alonzo — I'll never be able to think of
those two names separately after this — are to her just

-
two play fellows who want her to play with them all
their lives. I'm glad we met her, and I'm glad we
went to Old St. John's. I believe I've put forth a tiny
soul-root into Kingsport soil this afternoon. I hope
so. I hate to feel transplanted.”
CHAPTER V
LETTERS FROM HOME
For the next three weeks Anne and Priscilla con

tinued to feel as strangers in a strange land. Then,
suddenly, everything seemed to fall into focus — Red
-
mond, professors, classes, students, studies, social do

ings. Life became homogeneous again, instead of be
ing made up of detached fragments. The Freshmen,
instead of being a collection of unrelated individuals,
found themselves a class, with a class spirit, a class
yell, class interests, class antipathies and class ambi
tions. They won the day in the annual “ Arts Rush ”
against the Sophomores, and thereby gained the re
spect of all the classes, and an enormous, confidence
giving opinion of themselves. For three years the
Sophomores had won in the “ rush ” ; that the victory
of this year perched upon the Freshman's banner was
attributed to the strategic generalship of Gilbert Blythe,
who marshalled the campaign and originated certain
new tactics, which demoralized the Sophs and swept
the Freshmen to triumph. As a reward of merit he
was elected president of the Freshman Class, a position
of honour and responsibility — from a Fresh po of
view, at least — coveted by many. He was also in
-
vited to join the “ Lambs " — Redmondese for Lamba

-
47
Theta - a compliment rarely paid to a Freshman . As

a preparatory initiation ordeal he had to parade the
principal business streets of Kingsport for aa whole day
wearing a sunbonnet and a voluminous kitchen apron
of gaudily flowered calico. This he did cheerfully,
doffing his sunbonnet with courtly grace when he met
ladies of his acquaintance. Charlie Sloane, who had
not been asked to join the Lambs, told Anne he did not
see how Blythe could do it, and he, for his part, could
never humiliate himself so .
Fancy Charlie Sloane in a ' caliker ' apron and a
' sun bunnit,' ” giggled Priscilla. “ He'd look exactly
like his old Grandmother Sloane. Gilbert, now, looked
as much like a man in them as in his own proper habili
ments.”
Anne and Priscilla found themselves in the thick of
the social life of Redmond. That this came about so
speedily was due in great measure to Philippa Gordon.
Philippa was the daughter of a rich and well-known
man , and belonged to an old and exclusive “ Bluenose
family. This, combined with her beauty and charm
a charm acknowledged by all who met her — promptly
-
opened the gates of all cliques, clubs and classes in Red

mond to her ; and where she went Anne and Priscilla
went, too. Phil adored » Anne and Priscilla, espe
cially Anne. She was a loyal little soul, crystal-free
from any form of snobbishness. “ Love me, love my
friends " seemed to be her unconscious motto. With
out effort, she took them with her into her ever widen
ing circle of acquaintanceship, and the two Avonlea
LETTERS FROM HOME 49
girls found their social pathway at Redmond made

very easy and pleasant for them, to the envy and won
derment of the other freshettes, who, lacking Philippa's
sponsorship, were doomed to remain rather on the
fringe of things during their first college year.
To Anne and Priscilla, with their more serious views
of life, Phil remained the amusing, lovable baby she
had seemed on their first meeting. Yet, as she said
herself, she had “ heaps ” of brains. When or where
she found time to study was a mystery, for she seemed
always in demand for some kind of " fun ,” and her
home evenings were crowded with callers. She had all
the “ beaux ” that heart could desire, for nine-tenths
of the Freshmen and a big fraction of all the other
classes were rivals for her smiles. She was naïvely
delighted over this, and gleefully recounted each new
conquest to Anne and Priscilla, with comments that
might have made the unlucky lover's ears burn fiercely.
Alec and Alonzo don't seem to have any serious
rival yet,” remarked Anne, teasingly.
“ Not one, ” agreed Philippa. “ I write them both
every week and tell them all about my young men here.
I'm sure it must amuse them. But, of course, the one
I like best I can't get. Gilbert Blythe won't take any
notice of me, except to look at me as if I were a nice
little kitten he'd like to pat. Too well I know the rea
son. I owe you a grudge, Queen Anne. I really
ought to hate you and instead I love you madly, and
I'm miserable if I don't see you every day. You're
different from any girl I ever knew before. When
you look at me in aa certain way I feel what an insignifi

cant, frivolous little beast I am, and I long to be better
and wiser and stronger. And then I make good resolu
tions ; but the first nice-looking mannie who comes my
way knocks them all out oź my head. Isn't college life
magnificent? It's so funny to think I hated it that
first day. But if I hadn't I might never got really ac
quainted with you. Anne, please tell me over again
that you like me a little bit. I yearn to hear it.”
“ I like you a big bit —- and I think you're a dear,
-
sweet, adorable, velvety, clawless, little — kitten ,”

laughed Anne, “ but I don't see when you ever get time
to learn your lessons.”
Phil must have found time for she held her own in
every class of her year. Even the grumpy old profes
sor of Mathematics, who detested co-eds, and had bit
terly opposed their admission to Redmond, couldn't
floor her. She led the freshettes everywhere, except in
English, where Anne Shirley left her far behind.
Anne herself found the studies of her Freshman year
very easy, thanks in great part to the steady work she
and Gilbert had put in during those two past years in
Avonlea. This left her more time for a social life
which she thoroughly enjoyed. But never for a mo
ment did she forget Avonlea and the friends there .
To her, the happiest moments in each week were those
in which letters came from home. It was not until
she had got her first letters that she began to think she
could ever like Kingsport or feel at home there. Be
fore they came, Avonlea had seemed thousands of miles
away ; those letters brought it near and linked the old

life to the new so closely that they began to seem one
and the same, instead of two hopelessly segregated ex
istences. The first batch contained six letters, from
Jane Andrews, Ruby Gillis, Diana Barry, Marilla, Mrs.
Lynde and Davy. Jane's was a copper-plate produc
tion , with every “ t” nicely crossed and every “ i ”
precisely dotted, and not an interesting sentence in it.
She never mentioned the school, concerning which
Anne was avid to hear ; she never answered one of the
questions Anne had asked in her letter. But she told
Anne how many yards of lace she had recently
crocheted, and the kind of weather they were having in
Avonlea, and how she intended to have her new dress
made, and the way she felt when her head ached.
Ruby Gillis wrote a gushing epistle deploring Anne's
absence, assuring her she was horribly missed in every
thing, asking what the Redmond “ fellows” were like,
and filling the rest with accounts of her own harrowing
experiences with her numerous admirers. It was a
silly, harmless letter, and Anne would have laughed
over it had it not been for the postscript. “ Gilbert
seems to be enjoying Redmond , judging from his let
ters," wrote Ruby. “ I don't think Charlie is so struck
on it. "
So Gilbert was writing to Ruby ! Very well. He
had a perfect right to, of course. Only — !! Anne
did not know that Ruby had written the first letter and
that Gilbert had answered it from mere courtesy. She
tossed Ruby's letter aside contemptuously. But it took
all Diana's breezy, newsy, delightful epistle to banish

the sting of Ruby's postscript. Diana's letter con
tained a little too much Fred, but was otherwise
crowded and crossed with items of interest, and Anne
almost felt herself back in Avonlea while reading it.
Marilla's was a rather prim and colourless epistle,
severely innocent of gossip or emotion. Yet somehow
it conveyed to Anne a whiff of the wholesome, simple
life at Green Gables, with its savour of ancient peace,
and the steadfast abiding love that was there for her.
Mrs. Lynde's letter was full of church news. Having
broken up housekeeping, Mrs. Lynde had more time
than ever to devote to church affairs and had flung her
self into them heart and soul. She was at present
much worked up over the poor “ supplies ” they were
having in the vacant Avonlea pulpit.
“ I don't believe any but fools enter the ministry
nowadays,” she wrote bitterly. “ Such candidates
as they have sent us, and such stuff as they preach !
Half of it ain't true, and, what's worse, it ain't sound
doctrine. The one we have now is the worst of the
lot. He mostly takes a text and preaches about some
thing else. And he says he doesn't believe all the
heathen will be eternally lost. The idea ! If they
won't all the money we've been giving to Foreign Mis
sions will be clean wasted , that's what ! Last Sunday
night he announced that next Sunday he'd preach on
the axe-head that swam . I think he'd better confine
himself to the Bible and leave sensational subjects
alone. Things have come to a pretty pass if a minis
ter can't find enough in Holy Writ to preach about,

that's what. What church do you attend, Anne ? I
hope you go regularly. People are apt to get so care
less about church - going away from home, and I under
stand college students are great sinners in this respect.
I'm told many of them actually study their lessons on
Sunday. I hope you'll never sink that low, Anne.
Remember how you were brought up. And be very
careful what friends you make. You never know what
sort of creatures are in them colleges. Outwardly they
may be as whited sepulchers and inwardly as ravening
wolves, that's what. You'd better not have anything
to say to any young man who isn't from the Island.
“ I forgot to tell you what happened the day the min
ister called here. It was the funniest thing I ever saw.
I said to Marilla, ' If Anne had been here wouldn't she
have had a laugh ? ' Even Marilla laughed. You
know he's a very short, fat little man with bow legs.
Well, that old pig of Mr. Harrison's — the big, tall one
- had wandered over here that day again and broke
into the yard, and it got into the back porch, unbe
knowns to us, and it was there when the minister ap
peared in the doorway. It made one wild bolt to get
out, but there was nowhere to bolt to except between
them bow legs. So there it went, and, being as it was
so big and the minister so little, it took him clean off
his feet and carried him away. His hat went one way
and his cane another, just as Marilla and I got to the
door. I'll never forget the look of him. And that
poor pig was near scared to death. I'll never be able
to read that account in the Bible of the swine that

rushed madly down the steep place into the sea without
seeing Mr. Harrison's pig careering down the hill with
that minister. I guess the pig thought he had the Old
Boy on his back instead of inside of him. I was thank
ful the twins weren't about. It wouldn't have been the
right thing for them to have seen a minister in such an
undignified predicament. Just before they got to the
brook the minister jumped off or fell off. The pig
rushed through the brook like mad and up through the
woods. Marilla and I run down and helped the minis
ter get up and brush his coat. He wasn't hurt, but he
was mad. He seemed to hold Marilla and me respon
sible for it all, though we told him the pig didn't be
long to us, and had been pestering us all summer. Be
sides, what did he come to the back door for ? You'd
never have caught Mr. Allan doing that. It'll be aa long
time before we get a man like Mr. Allan. But it's an
ill wind that blows no good. We've never seen hoof
or hair of that pig since, and it's my belief we never
will.
Things is pretty quiet in Avonlea. I don't find
Green Gables as lonesome as I expected. I think I'll
start another cotton warp quilt this winter. Mrs.
Silas Sloane has aa handsome new apple -leaf pattern .
“ When I feel that I must have some excitement I
read the murder trials in that Boston paper my niece
sends me. I never used to do it, but they're real inter
esting. The States must be an awful place. I hope
you'll never go there, Anne. But the way girls roam
over the earth now is something terrible. It always

makes me think of Satan in the Book of Job, going to
and fro and walking up and down. I don't believe the
Lord ever intended it, that's what.
Davy has been pretty good since you went away.
One day he was bad and Marilla punished him by mak
ing him wear Dora's apron all day, and then he went
and cut all Dora's aprons up. I spanked him for that
and then he went and chased my rooster to death.
The MacPhersons have moved down to my place.
She's a great housekeeper and very particular. She's
rooted all my June lilies up because she says they make
a garden look so untidy. Thomas set them lilies out
when we were married. Her husband seems a nice
sort of a man, but she can't get over being an old maid,
that's what .
“ Don't study too hard, and be sure and put your
winter underclothes on as soon as the weather gets
cool. Marilla worries a lot about you, but I tell her
you've got a lot more sense than I ever thought you
would have at one time, and that you'll be all right.”
Davy's letter plunged into a grievance at the start.
Dear anne, please write and tell marilla not to tie
me to the rale of the bridge when I go fishing the boys
make fun of me when she does. Its awful lonesome
here without you but grate fun in school. Jane an
drews is crosser than you. I scared mrs. lynde with a
jacky lantern last nite. She was offel mad and she was
mad cause I chased her old rooster round the yard till
he fell down ded. I didn't mean to make him fall
down ded. What made him die, anne, I want to know .

Mrs. lynde threw him into the pig pen she mite of sold
him to mr. blair. mr. blair is giving 50 sense apeace for
good ded roosters now. I herd mrs. lynde asking the
minister to pray for her. What did she do that was so
bad, anne, I want to know . I've got a kite with a
magnificent tail, anne. Milty bolter told me a grate
story in school yesterday. it is troo. old Joe Mosey
and Leon were playing cards one nite last week in the
woods. The cards were on a stump and a big black
man bigger than the trees come along and grabbed the
cards and the stump and disapered with a noys like
thunder. Ill bet they were skared. Milty says the
black man was the old harry. was he, anne, I want to
know . Mr. kimball over at spenservale is very sick
and will have to go to the hospitable. please excuse
me while I ask marilla if thats spelled rite. Marilla
says its the silem he has to go to not the other place.
He thinks he has a snake inside of him . whats it like
to have aa snake inside of you, anne. I want to know .
mrs. lawrence bell is sick to. mrs. lynde says that all
that is the matter with her is that she thinks too much
about her insides."
“ I wonder, ” said Anne, as she folded up her letters,
“ what Mrs. Lynde would think of Philippa .”
CHAPTER VI
IN THE PARK
What are you going to do with yourselves to-day,

girls ? ” asked Philippa, popping into Anne's room one
Saturday afternoon .
“ We are going for a walk in the park," answered
'Anne. “ I ought to stay in and finish my blouse. But
I couldn't sew on a day like this. There's something
in the air that gets into my blood and makes a sort of
glory in my soul. My fingers would twitch and I'd
sew a crooked seam . So it's ho for the park and the
pines.”
Does ' we ' include any one but yourself and
Priscilla ? ”
“ Yes, it includes Gilbert and Charlie, and we'll be
very glad if it will include you,, also.”'
But, ” said Philippa dolefully, “ if I go I'll have to
be gooseberry, and that will be a new experience for
Philippa Gordon .”
" Well, new experiences are broadening. Come
along, and you'll be able to sympathize with all poor
souls who have to play gooseberry often. But where
are all the victims ?
66
Oh, I was tired of them all and simply couldn't be
bothered with any of them to-day. Besides, I've been
feeling a little blue — just a pale, elusive azure. It
57
isn't serious enough for anything darker. I wrote Alec

and Alonzo last week. I put the letters into envelopes
and addressed them, but I didn't seal them up. That
evening something funny happened.. That is, Alec
would think it funny, but Alonzo wouldn't be likely
to . I was in a hurry, so I snatched Alec's letter as-
I thought — out of the envelope and scribbled down a

-
postscript. Then I mailed both letters. I got Alonzo's

reply this morning. Girls, I had put that postscript to
his letter and he was furious. Of course he'll get over
it -
and I don't care if he doesn't but it spoiled my
day. So I thought I'd come to you darlings to get
cheered up.. After the football season opens I won't
have any spare Saturday afternoons. I adore foot
ball. I've got the most gorgeous cap and sweater
striped in Redmond colours to wear to the games. To
be sure, a little way off I'll look like a walking barber's
pole. Do you know that that Gilbert of yours has been
elected Captain of the Freshman football team ? "
“Yes, he told us so last evening," said Priscilla,
seeing that outraged Anne would not answer. “ He
and Charlie were down . We knew they were coming,
so we painstakingly put out of sight or out of reach
all Miss Ada's cushions . That very elaborate one with
the raised embroidery I dropped on the floor in the
corner behind the chair it was on. I thought it would
be safe there . But would you believe it ? Charlie
Sloane made for that chair, noticed the cushion be
hind it, solemnly fished it up, and sat on it the whole
evening . Such aa wreck of a cushion as it was ! Poor
IN THE PARK 59
Miss Ada asked me to-day, still smiling, but oh, so re

proachfully, why I had allowed it to be sat upon. I
told her I hadn't that it was a matter of predestina
tion coupled with inveterate Sloanishness and I wasn't
a match for both combined .”
“ Miss Ada's cushions are really getting on my
nerves,” said Anne. “ She finished two new ones last
week, stuffed and embroidered within an inch of their
lives. There being absolutely no other cushionless
place to put them she stood them up against the wall
on the stair landing. They topple over half the time
and if we come up or down the stairs in the dark we
fall over them. Last Sunday, when Dr. Davis prayed
for all those exposed to the perils of the sea, I added in
thought and for all those who live in houses where
cushions are loved not wisely but too well ! ' There !
we're ready, and I see the boys coming through Old
St. John's. Do you cast in your lot with us, Phil ? "
go, if I can walk with Priscilla and Charlie.
“ I'll ,
That will be a bearable degree of gooseberry. That
Gilbert of yours is a darling, Anne, but why does he go
around so much with Goggle -eyes? ”
Anne stiffened. She had no great liking for Charlie
Sloane ; but he was of Avonlea, so no outsider had any
business to laugh at him.
“ Charlie and Gilbert have always been friends," she
said coldly . “ Charlie is a nice boy. He's not to
blame for his eyes."
“ Don't tell me that ! He is ! He must have done
something dreadful in a previous existence to be pun
ished with such eyes. Pris and I are going to have

such sport with him this afternoon. We'll make fun
of him to his face and he'll never know it.”
Doubtless, the abandoned P's," as Anne called
them , did carry out their amiable intentions. But
Sloane was blissfully ignorant; he thought he was quite
a fine fellow to be walking with two such co-eds, espe
cially Philippa Gordon, the class beauty and belle. It
must surely impress Anne. She would see that some
people appreciated him at his real value.
Gilbert and Anne loitered a little behind the others,
enjoying the calm, still beauty of the autumn afternoon
under the pines of the park, on the road that climbed
and twisted around the harbour shore.
“ The silence here is like a prayer, isn't it ? " said
Anne, her face upturned to the shining sky. “ How I
love the pines ! They seem to strike their roots deep
into the romance of all the ages . It is so comforting to
creep away now and then for a good talk with them . I
always feel so happy out here . "
“ . And so in mountain solitudes o'ertaken
As by some spell divine,
Their cares drop from them like the needles shaken
From out the gusty pine,' ”
quoted Gilbert.
“ They make our little ambitions seem rather petty,
don't they, Anne? ”
“ I think, if ever any great sorrow came to me, I
would come to the pines for comfort,” said Anne
dreamily.
IN THE PARK 61
" I hope no great sorrow ever will come to you ,

Anne," said Gilbert, who could not connect the idea of
sorrow with the vivid, joyous creature beside him, un
witting that those who can soar to the highest heights
can also plunge to the deepest depths, and that the na
tures which enjoy most keenly are those which also
suffer most sharply .
But there must — sometime," mused Anne.
“ Life seems like a cup of glory held to my lips just
now . But there must be some bitterness in it — there
is in every cup. I shall taste mine some day. Well,
I hope I shall be strong and brave to meet it. And I
hope it won't be through my own fault that it will come.
Do you remember what Dr. Davis said last Sunday
evening — that the sorrows God sent us brought com
fort and strength with them, while the sorrows we
brought on ourselves, through folly or wickedness,
were by far the hardest to bear ? But we mustn't talk
of sorrow on an afternoon like this. It's meant for the
sheer joy of living, isn't it ? '
“ If I had my way I'd shut everything out of your
life but happiness and pleasure, Anne," said Gilbert in
the tone that meant “ danger ahead.”
" Then you would be very unwise,” rejoined Anne
hastily. “ I'm sure no life can be properly developed

and rounded out without some trial and sorrow —
though I suppose it is only when we are pretty com
fortable that we admit it. Come — the others have
-
got to the pavilion and are beckoning to us."

They all sat down in the little pavilion to watch an
autumn sunset of deep red fire and pallid gold. Το

their left lay Kingsport, its roofs and spires dim in their
shroud of violet smoke. To their right lay the har
bour, taking on tints of rose and copper as it stretched
out into the sunset. Before them the water shimmered,
satin smooth and silver gray, and beyond, clean shaven
William's Island loomed out of the mist, guarding the
town like a sturdy bull-dog. Its lighthouse beacon
flared through the mist like aa baleful star, and was an
swered by another in the far horizon.
“ Did you ever see such a strong -looking place ? ”
asked Philippa. “ I don't want William's Island espe
cially, but I'm sure I couldn't get it if I did. Look at
that sentry on the summit of the fort, right beside the

flag. Doesn't he look as if he had stepped out of a
romance ? "
Speaking of romance," said Priscilla, “ we've been
looking for heather — but, of course,, we couldn't find
any. It's too late in the season, I suppose."
“ Heather ! ” exclaimed Anne. “ Heather doesn't
grow in America, does it ? ”
There are just two patches of it in the whole con
tinent,” said Phil, one right here in the park, and one
somewhere else in Nova Scotia, I forget where. The
famous Highland Regiment, the Black Watch, camped
here one year, and, when the men shook out the straw
of their beds in the spring, some seeds of heather took
root.”
Oh, how delightful!” said enchanted Anne.
“ Let's go home around by Spofford Avenue,” sug
IN THE PARK 63
gested Gilbert. “ We can see all the handsome

houses where the wealthy nobles dwell. ' Spofford
Avenue is the finest residential street in Kingsport.
Nobody can build on it unless he's a millionaire.”
“ Oh, do,” said Phil. “ There's a perfectly killing
little place I want to show you, Anne. It wasn't built
by a millionaire. It's the first place after you leave
the park, and must have grown while Spofford Avenue
-
was still a country road. It did grow — it wasn't

built ! I don't care for the houses on the Avenue.
They're too brand new and plate-glassy. But this little
spot is a dream and its name but wait till you see
it.”
They saw it as they walked up the pine- fringed hill
from the park. Just on the crest, where Spofford
Avenue petered out into a plain road, was a little white
frame house with groups of pines on either side of it,
stretching their arms protectingly over its low roof.
It was covered with red and gold vines, through which
its green -shuttered windows peeped. Before it was a
tiny garden , surrounded by a low stone wall. October
though it was, the garden was still very sweet with
dear, old - fashioned, unworldly flowers and shrubs –
sweet may, southern -wood, lemon verbena, alyssum ,
petunias, marigolds and chrysanthemums. A tiny
brick wall, in herring-bone pattern, led from the gate
to the front porch. The whole place might have been
transplanted from some remote country village ; yet
there was something about it that made its nearest
neighbour, the big lawn-encircled palace of a tobacco
king, look exceedingly crude and showy and ill-bred

by contrast. As Phil said, it was the difference be
tween being born and being made.
“ It's the dearest place I ever saw ," said Anne de
lightedly. “ It gives me one of my old, delightful,
funny aches. It's dearer and quainter than even Miss
Lavendar's stone house."
“ It's the name I want you žo notice especially, ” said
Phil. “ Look — in white letters, around the archway
over the gate. ‘ Patty's Place.' Isn't that killing ?
Especially on this Avenue of Pinehursts and Elmwolds
and Cedarcrofts ? ‘ Patty's Place, if you please ! I
adore it.”
“ Have you any idea who Patty is ? ” asked Priscilla.
Patty Spofford is the name of the old lady who
owns it, I've discovered. She lives there with her
niece, and they've lived there for hundreds of years,
more or less — maybe a little less, Anne. Exaggera
tion is merely a flight of poetic fancy. I understand
that wealthy folk have tried to buy the lot time and
again — it's really worth a small fortune now, you
.
know — but ' Patty ' won't sell upon any consideration.
And there's an apple orchard behind the house in
place of a back yard —- you'll see it when we get a little
past - a real apple orchard on Spofford Avenue ! ”
“ I'm going to dream about Patty's Place ' to
night,” said Anne. Why, I feel as if I belonged to
it. I wonder if, by any chance, we'll ever see the in
side of it.”
“ It isn't likely ,” said Priscilla .
IN THE PARK 65
Anne smiled mysteriously.

“ No, it isn't likely. But I believe it will happen.
I have a queer, creepy, crawly feeling — you can call
it a presentiment, if you like — that .' Patty's Place '
and I are going to be better acquainted yet.”
CHAPTER VII
HOME AGAIN
THOSE first three weeks at Redmond had seemed

long ; but the rest of the term flew by on wings of wind.
Before they realized it the Redmond students found
themselves in the grind of Christmas examinations,
emerging therefrom more or less triumphantly. The
honour of leading in the Freshman classes fluctuated
between Anne, Gilbert and Philippa ; Priscilla did very
well ; Charlie Sloane scraped through respectably, and
comported himself as complacently as if he had led in
everything
“ I can't really believe that this time to -morrow I'll
be in Green Gables,” said Anne on the night before de
parture. But I shall be. And you, Phil, will be in
Bolingbroke with Alec and Alonzo ."
“ I'm longing to see them ,” admitted Phil, between
the chocolatee she was nibbling. “ They really are such
dear boys, you know. Oh, I'm going to have a
splendid time in the holidays. There's to be no end
of dances and drives and general jamborees. I shall
never forgive you, Queen Anne, for not coming home
with me for the holidays."
“ « Never ' means three days with you, Phil. It was
dear of you to ask me.— and I'd love to go to Bolinga
66
HOME AGAIN 67
broke some day. But I can't go this year — I must

go home. You don't know how my heart longs for
it.”
You won't have much of a time, ” said Phil scorn
fully. “ There'll be one or two quilting parties, ΙI sup.
pose ; and all the old gossips will talk you over to your
face and behind your back. You'll die of lonesome
ness, child .”
“ In Avonlea ? ” said Anne, highly amused.
“ Now , if you'd come with me you'd have a per
fectly gorgeous time. Bolingbroke would go wild
over you, Queen Anne — your hair and your style and,
oh, everything ! You're so different. You'd be such
a success and I would bask in reflected glory — not
the rose but near the rose . ' Do come, after all, Anne.”
Your picture of social triumphs is quite fascinat
ing, Phil, but I'll paint one to off -set it. I'm going
home to an old cuuntry farmhouse, once green, rather
faded now, set among leafless apple orchards. There
is a brook below and a December fir wood beyond,
where I've heard harps swept by the fingers of rain and
wind. There is a pond near by that will be gray and
brooding now. There will be two oldish ladies in the
house, one tall and thin, one short and fat ; and there
will be two twins, one a perfect model, the other what
6
Mrs. Lynde calls a “ holy terror. ' There will be aa little
room up-stairs over the porch, where old dreams hang
thick, and a big, fat, glorious feather bed which will
almost seem the height of luxury after a boarding
house mattress. How do you like my picture, Phil ? ”
“ It seems a very dull one,” said Phil, with a gri
mace .
Oh, but I've left out the transforming thing,” said

Anne softly . “ There'll be love there, Phil — faithful,
tender love, such as I'll never find anywhere else in the
world — love that's waiting for me. That makes my
picture a masterpiece, doesn't it, even if the colours are
not very brilliant? ”
Phil silently got up, tossed her box of chocolates
away, went up to Anne, and put her arms about her.
Anne, I wish I was like you ,” she said soberly.
Diana met Anne at the Carmody station the next
night, and they drove home together under silent, star
sown depths of sky. Green Gables had a very festal
appearance as they drove up the lane. There was a
light in every window, the glow breaking out through
the darkness like flame-red blossoms swung against
the dark background of the Haunted Wood. And in
the yard was a brave bonfire with two gay little figures
dancing around it, one of which gave an unearthly yell
as the buggy turned in under the poplars.
66
Davy means that for an Indian war-whoop ,” said
Diana . “ Mr. Harrison's hired boy taught it to him,
and he's been practising it up to welcome you with.
Mrs. Lynde says it has worn her nerves to a frazzle.
He creeps up behind her, you know, and then lets go.
He was determined to have a bonfire for you, too.
He's been piling up dry branches for a fortnight and
pestering Marilla to be let pour some kerosene oil over
it before setting it on fire. I guess she did, by the
HOME AGAIN 69
smell, though Mrs. Lynde said up to the last that Davy

would blow himself and everybody else up if he was
let. '
Anne was out of the buggy by this time, and Davy
was rapturously hugging her knees, while even Dora
was clinging to her hand.
Isn't that a bully bonfire, Anne ? Just let me show
you how to poke it see the sparks ? I did it for you,
Anne, 'cause I was so glad you were coming home. ”
The kitchen door opened and Marilla's spare form
darkened against the inner light. She preferred to
meet Anne in the shadows, for she was horribly afraid
that she was going to cry with joy,- she, stern , re
pressed Marilla, who thought all display of deep emo
tion unseemly. Mrs. Lynde was behind her, sonsy,
kindly, matronly, as of yore. The love that Anne had
told Phil was waiting for her surrounded her and en
folded her with its blessing and its sweetness.
Nothing, after all, could compare with old ties, old
friends, and old Green Gables ! How starry Anne's
eyes were as they sat down to the loaded supper table,
how pink her cheeks, how silver -clear her laughter !
And Diana was going to stay all night, too. How like
the dear old times it was ! And the rose-bud tea-set
graced the table ! With Marilla the force of nature
could no further go.
“ I suppose you and Diana will now proceed to talk
all night,” said Marilla sarcastically, as the girls went
up-stairs. Marilla was always sarcastic after any self
betrayal.
“ Yes,” agreed Anne gaily, “ but I'm going to put

Davy to bed first. He insists on that.”
' You bet,” said Davy, as they went along the hall.
“ I want somebody to say my prayers to again. It's
tìo fun saying them alone.'
“ You don't say them alone, Davy. God is always
with you to hear you .”
“ Well, I can't see Him ," objected Davy. “ I want
to pray to somebody I can see, but I won't say them
to Mrs. Lynde or Marilla, there now ! ”
Nevertheless, when Davy was garbed in his gray
flannel nighty, he did not seem in a hurry to begin.
He stood before Anne, shuffling one bare foot over the
other, and looked undecided.
66
Come, dear, kneel down,” said Anne.
Davy came and buried his head in Anne's lap, but he
did not kneel down.
Anne,” he said in a muffled voice, “ I don't feel
like praying after all. I haven't felt like it for aa week
now .
I — I didn't pray last night nor the night
before."
Why not, Davy ? ” asked Anne gently.
6 You you won't be mad if I tell you ? ” implored
Davy .
Anne lifted the little gray -flannelled body on her knee
and cuddled his head on her arm .
“ Do I ever get ' mad ' when you tell me things,
Davy ? ”
“No-o-o, you never do. But you get sorry, and
that's worse. You'll be awful sorry when I teli
HOME AGAIN 71
you this, Anne — and you'll be 'shamed of me, I

-
s'pose.”
“ Have you done something naughty, Davy, and is
that why you can't say your prayers?”
' No, I haven't done anything naughty — yet. But
I want to do it.'
“ What is it, Davy ? ”
" I— I want to say a bad word, Anne," blurted out
Davy, with a desperate effort. “ I heard Mr. Harri
son's hired boy say it one day last week, and ever since
I've been wanting to say it all the time even when
I'm saying my prayers.”
Say it then, Davy.”
Davy lifted his flushed face in amazement.
But, Anne, it's an awful bad word.”
Say it ! ”
Davy gave her another incredulous look , then in a
low voice he said the dreadful word . The next minute
his face was burrowing against her.
“ Oh, Anne, I'll never say it again never. I'11
never want to say it again. I knew it was bad, but I
didn't s’pose it was so –— SO — I didn't s'pose it was
like that.”
No, I don't think you'll ever want to say it again,
Davy — or think it, either. And I wouldn't go about
much with Mr. Harrison's hired boy if I were
you .”
“ He can make bully war -whoops, ” said Davy a little
regretfully.
“ But you don't want your mind filled with bad
words, do you, Davy — words that will poison it and
drive out all that is good and manly ?
>
“ No,” said Davy, owl-eyed with introspection.
“ Then don't go with those people who use them .
And now do you feel as if you could say your prayers,
Davy ? ”
Oh, yes,” said Davy, eagerly wriggling down on
his knees, “ I can say them now all right. I ain't
scared now to say if I should die before I wake,' like
I was when I was wanting to say that word.”
Probably Anne and Diana did empty out their
souls to each other that night, but no record of their
confidences has been preserved. They both looked
as fresh and bright-eyed at breakfast as only youth
can look after unlawful hours of revelry and confes
sion. There had been no snow up to this time, but as
Diana crossed the old log bridge on her homeward way
the white flakes were beginning to flutter down over
the fields and woods, russet and gray in their dream
less sleep. Soon the far-away slopes and hills were
dim and wraith-like through their gauzy scarfing, as if
pale autumn had flung a misty bridal veil over her hair
and was waiting for her wintry bridegroom . So they
had a white Christmas after all, and a very pleasant
day it was. In the forenoon letters and gifts came
from Miss Lavendar and Paul ; Anne opened them in
the cheerful Green Gables kitchen, which was filled with
what Davy , sniffing in ecstasy, called “ pretty smells.”
“ Miss Lavendar and Mr. Irving are settled in their
new home now ," reported Anne. “ I am sure Miss
HOME AGAIN 73
-
Lavendar is perfectly happy — I know it by the general

tone of her letter but there's a note from Charlotta
the Fourth. She doesn't like Boston at all, and she is
fearfully homesick . Miss Lavendar wants me to go
through to Echo Lodge some day while I'm home and
light a fire to air it, and see that the cushions aren't
getting mouldy. I think I'll get Diana to go over with
me next week , and we can spend the evening with
Theodora Dix. I want to see Theodora. By the way,
is Ludovic Speed still going to see her ? ”
“ They say so,” said Marilla, “ and he's likely to con
tinue it. Folks have given up expecting that that
courtship will ever arrive anywhere.”
“ I'd hurry him up a bit, if I was Theodora, that's
what, ” said Mrs. Lynde. And there is not the slight
est doubt but that she would.
There was also aa characteristic scrawl from Philippa,
full of Alec and Alonzo, what they said and what they
did, and how they looked when they saw her.
“ But I can't make up my mind yet which to marry,"
wrote Phil. “ I do wish you had come with me to
decide for me. Some one will have to. When I saw
Alec my heart gave a great thump and I thought, ‘ He
must be the right one.' And then, when Alonzo came,
thump went my heart again . So that's no guide,
though it should be, according to all the novels I've
ever read. Now, Anne, your heart wouldn't thump
for anybody but the genuine Prince Charming, would
it ? There must be something radically wrong with
mine. But I'm having a perfectly gorgeous time.
How I wish you were here ! It's snowing to -day, and

I'm rapturous. I was so afraid we'd have a green
Christmas and I loathe them. You know, when
Christmas is a dirty grayey -browney affair, looking
as if it had been left over a hundred years ago and had
been in soak ever since, it is called a green Christmas !
Don't ask me why. As Lord Dundreary says there
'
are thome thingth no fellow can underthtand.'
Anne, did you ever get on a street car and then
discover that you hadn't any money with you to pay
your fare ? I did, the other day. It's quite awful..
I had a nickel with me when I got on the car. I
thought it was in the left pocket of my coat. When
I got settled down comfortably I felt for it. It wasn't
there. I had a cold chill. I felt in the other pocket.
Not there. I had another chill. Then I felt in a little
inside pocket. All in vain. I had two chills at once.
“ I took off my gloves, laid them on the seat, and
went over all my pockets again. It was not there. I
stood up and shook myself, and then looked on the
floor. The car was full of people, who were going
home from the opera, and they all stared at me, but I
was past caring for a little thing like that.
“ But I could not find my fare. I concluded I must
have put it in my mouth and swallowed it inadvert
ently.
“ I didn't know what to do. Would the conductor,
I wondered, stop the car and put me off in ignominy
and shame? Was it possible that I could convince him
that I was merely the victim of iny own absent-mind .
HOME AGAIN 75
edness, and not an unprincipled creature trying to ob

tain a ride upon false pretences ? How I wished that
Alec or Alonzo were there. But they weren't because
I wanted them. If I hadn't wanted them they would
have been there by the dozen. And I couldn't decide
what to say to the conductor when he came around.
As soon as I got one sentence of explanation mapped
out in my mind I felt nobody could believe it and I
must compose another. It seemed there was nothing
to do but trust in Providence, and for all the comfort
that gave me I might as well have been the old lady
who, when told by the captain during a storm that she
must put her trust in the Almighty exclaimed, ' Oh,
Captain, is it as bad as that ? '
“ Just at the conventional moment, when all hope
had fled, and the conductor was holding out his box
to the passenger next to me, I suddenly remembered
where I had put that wretched coin of the realm. I
hadn't swallowed it after all. I meekly fished it out
of the index finger of my glove and poked it in the
box. I smiled at everybody and felt that it was a
beautiful world .”
The visit to Echo Lodge was not the least pleasant
of many pleasant holiday outings. Anne and Diana
went back to it by the old way of the beech woods,
carrying a lunch basket with them. Echo Lodge,
which had been closed ever since Miss Lavendar's
wedding, was briefly thrown open to wind and sun
shine once more, and firelight glimmered again in the
little rooms . The perfume of Miss Lavendar's rose
bowl still filled the air. It was hardly possible to

believe that Miss Lavendar would not come tripping
in presently, with her brown eyes a -star with welcome,
and that Charlotta the Fourth, blue of bow and wide
of smile, would not pop through the door. Paul, too,
seemed hovering around , with his fairy fancies.
“ It really makes me feel a little bit like a ghost re
visiting the old time glimpses of the moon , ” laughed
Anne. “ Let's go out and see if the echoes are at
home. Bring the old horn. It is still behind the
kitchen door.”
The echoes were at home, over the white river, as
silver-clear and multitudinous as ever ; and when they
had ceased to answer the girls locked up Echo Lodge
again and went away in the perfect half hour that fol
lows the rose and saffron of a winter sunset.
CHAPTER VIII
ANNE'S FIRST PROPOSAL
The old year did not slip away in a green twilight,

with a pinky -yellow sunset. Instead, it went out with
a wild, white bluster and blow. It was one of the
nights when the storm-wind hurtles over the frozen
meadows and black hollows, and moans around the
eaves like a lost creature, and drives the snow sharply
against the shaking panes.
Just the sort of night people like to cuddle down
between their blankets and count their mercies," said
Anne to Jane Andrews, who had come up to spend the
afternoon and stay all night. But when they were
cuddled between their blankets, in Anne's little porch
room , it was not her mercies of which Jane was
thinking.
Anne," she said very solemnly, “ I want to tell
you something. May I ? ”
Anne was feeling rather sleepy after the party Ruby
Gillis had given the night before. She would much
rather have gone to sleep than listen to Jane's confi
dences, which she was sure would bore her. She had
no prophetic inkling of what was coming. Probably
Jane was engaged, too ; rumour averred that Ruby
77
Gillis was engaged to the Spencervale school teacher ,

about whom all the girls were said to be quite wild.
“ I'll soon be the only fancy - free maiden of our old
quartette, ” thought Anne, drowsily. Aloud she said,
“ Of course.”
Anne,” said Jane, still more solemnly, “ what do
you think of my brother Billy ? ”
Anne gasped over this unexpected question, and
floundered helplessly in her thoughts. Goodness, what
did she think of Billy Andrews ? She had never
thought anything about him — round-faced, stupid,
-
perpetually smiling, good-natured Billy Andrews. Did

anybody ever think about Billy Andrews ?
“ I — I don't understand, Jane,” she stammered.
“ What do you mean exactly ? ”
Do you like Billy ? " asked Jane bluntly.
“ Why — why - yes, I like him, of course,” gasped
Anne, wondering if she were telling the literal truth.
Certainly she did not dislike Billy. But could the in
different tolerance with which she regarded him, when
he happened to be in her range of vision, be considered
positive enough for liking ? What was Jane trying
to elucidate ?
>
“ Would you like him for a husband ? ” asked Jane
calmly.
" A husband ! ” Anne had been sitting up in bed,
the better to wrestle with the problem of her exact
opinion of Billy Andrews. Now she fell flatly back
on her pillows, the very breath gone out of her.
Whose husband ? ”
ANNE'S FIRST PROPOSAL 79
“ Yours, of course," answered Jane. “Billy wants

to marry you. He's always been crazy about you -
and now father has given him the upper farm in his
own name and there's nothing to prevent him from
getting married. But he's so shy he couldn't ask you
himself if you'd have him, so he got me to do it. I'd
rather not have, but he gave me no peace till I said I
would, if I got a good chance. What do you think
about it, Anne? "
Was it a dream ? Was it one of those nightmare
things in which you find yourself engaged or mar
ried to some one you hate or don't know, without the
slightest idea how it ever came about ? No, she, Anne
Shirley, was lying there, wide awake, in her own bed,
and Jane Andrews was beside her, calmly proposing
for her brother Billy. Anne did not know whether
she wanted to writhe or laugh ; but she could do neither,
for Jane's feelings must not be hurt.
“ I— I couldn't marry Billy, you know, Jane," she
managed to gasp. Why, such an idea never occurred
to me - never ! ”
“ I don't suppose it did ,” agreed Jane. " Billy has
always been far too shy to think of courting. But you
might think it over, Anne. Billy is a good fellow. I
must say that, if he is my brother. He has no bad
habits and he's a great worker, and you can depend on
him. ' A bird in the hand is worth two in the bush .'
He told me to tell you he'd be quite willing to wait till
you got through college, if you insisted, though he
rather get married this spring before the planting be
gins. He'd always be very good to you, I'm sure, and

you know, Anne, I'd love to have you for aa sister. ”
“ I can't marry Billy ,” said Anne decidedly. She
had recovered her wits, and was even feeling a little
angry. It was all so ridiculous. “ There is no use
thinking of it, Jane. I don't care anything for him in
that way, and you must tell him so .'
“ Well, I didn't suppose you would ,” said Jane with
a resigned sigh, feeling that she had done her best.
“ I told Billy I didn't believe it was a bit of use to ask
you , but he insisted. Well, you've made your decision,
Anne, and I hope you won't regret it.”
Jane spoke rather coldly. She had been perfectly
sure that the enamoured Billy had no chance at all of
inducing Anne to marry him. Nevertheless, she felt a
little resentment that Anne Shirley, who was, after all,
merely an adopted orphan, without kith or kin, should
refuse her brother, one of the Avonlea Andrews.
Well, pride sometimes goes before a fall, Jane reflected
ominously.
Anne permitted herself to smile in the darkness over
the idea that she might ever regret not marrying Billy
Andrews.
“ I hope Billy won't feel very badly over it,” she said
nicely.
Jane made a movement as if she were tossing her
head on her pillow.
“ Oh, he won't break his heart. Billy has too much
good sense for that. He likes Nettie Blewett pretty
well, too, and mother would rather he married her than
ANNE'S FIRST PROPOSAL 81
any one. She's such a good manager and saver. I

think, when Billy is once sure you won't have him, he'll
take Nettie. Please don't mention this to any one,
will you, Anne ? ”
Certainly not, ” said Anne, who had no desire what
ever to publish abroad the fa :t that Billy Andrews
wanted to marry her, preferring her, when all was said
and done, to Nettie Blewett. Nettie Blewett !
“ And now I suppose we'd better go to sleep,” sug
gested Jane.
To sleep went Jane easily and speedily ; but, though
very unlike MacBeth in most respects, she had certainly
contrived to murder sleep for Anne. That proposed
to damsel lay on a wakeful pillow until the wee sma's,
but her meditations were far from being romantic. It
was not, however, until the next morning that she had
an opportunity to indulge in a good laugh over the
whole affair. When Jane had gone home — still with
a hint of frost in voice and manner because Anne had
declined so ungratefully and decidedly the honour of
an alliance with the House of Andrews — Anne re
treated to the porch room, shut the door, and had her
laugh out at last.
“ If I could only share the joke with some one! ”
she thought. “ But I can't. Diana is the only one I'd
want to tell, and, even if I hadn't sworn secrecy to Jane
I can't tell Diana things now. She tells everything to
Fred – I know she does. Well, I've had my first pro
posal. I supposed it would come some day — but I
certainly never thought it would be by proxy . It's
awfully funny — and yet there's a sting in it, too,

>
somehow .”
Anne knew quite well wherein the sting consisted,
though she did not put it into words. She had had
her secret dreams of the first time some one should ask
her the great question. And it had, in those dreams,
always been very romantic and beautiful : and the
some one was to be very handsome and dark-eyed
and distinguished -looking and eloquent, whether he
were Prince Charming to be enraptured with “ yes,” or
one to whom a regretful, beautifully worded, but hope
less refusal must be given. If the latter, the refusal
was to be expressed so delicately that it would be next
best thing to acceptance, and he would go away,, after
kissing her hand, assuring her of his unalterable, life
long devotion. And it would always be a beautiful
memory, to be proud of and aa little sad about, also.
And now,, this thrilling experience had turned out to
be merely grotesque. Billy Andrews had got his sister
to propose for him because his father had given him the
upper farm ; and if Anne wouldn't “ have him ” Nettie
Blewett would. There was romance for you, with a
vengeance ! Anne laughed — and then sighed. The
bloom had been brushed from one little maiden dream.
Would the painful process go on until everything be
came prosaic and hum-drum ?
CHAPTER IX
AN UNWELCOME LOVER AND A WELCOME FRIEND
The second term at Redmond sped as quickly as had

the first —— " actually whizzed away,” Philippa said .
Anne enjoyed it thoroughly in all its phases — the
stimulating class rivalry, the making and deepening of
new and helpful friendships, the gay little social stunts,
the doings of the various societies of which she was a
member, the widening of horizons and interests. She
studied hard, for she had made up her mind to win the
Thorburn Scholarship in English. This being won,
meant that she could come back to Redmond the next
year without trenching on Marilla's small savings –
something Anne was determined she would not do.
Gilbert, too, was in full chase after aa scholarship, but
found plenty of time for frequent calls at Thirty-eight,
St. John's. He was Anne's escort at nearly all the
college affairs, and she knew that their names were
coupled in Redmond gossip. Anne raged over this
but was helpless ; she could not cast an old friend like
Gilbert aside, especially when he had grown suddenly
wise and wary, as behooved him in the dangerous
proximity of more than one Redmond youth who would
gladly have taken his place by the side of the slender,
83
red -haired co-ed, whose gray eyes were as alluring as

stars of evening. Anne was never attended by the
crowd of willing victims who hovered around
Philippa's conquering march through her Freshman
year ; but there was a lanky, brainy Freshie, a jolly,
little, round Sophomore, and a tall, learned Junior who
all liked to call at Thirty -eight, St. John's, and talk over
’ologies and ’ isms, as well as lighter subjects, with
Anne, in the be-cushioned parlour of that domicile.
Gilbert did not love any of them, and he was exceed
ingly careful to give none of them the advantage over
him by any untimely display of his real feelings Anne
ward. To her he had become again the boy-comrade
of Avonlea days, and as such could hold his own
against any smitten swain who had so far entered the
lists against him. As a companion, Anne honestly
acknowledged nobody could be so satisfactory as Gil
bert ; she was very glad, so she told herself, that he had
evidently dropped all nonsensical ideas — - though she
spent considerable time secretly wondering why.
Only one disagreeable incident marred that winter.
Charlie Sloane, sitting bolt upright on Miss Ada's most
dearly beloved cushion, asked Anne one night if she
would promise “ to become Mrs. Charlie Sloane some
day.” Coming after Billy Andrews' proxy effort, this
was not quite the shock to Anne's romantic sensibilities
that it would otherwise have been ; but it was certainly
another heart-rending disillusion. She was angry, too,
for she felt that she had never given Charlie the slight
est encouragement to suppose such a thing possible.
85
AN UNWELCOME LOVER
But what could you expect of a Sloane, as Mrs. Rachel

Lynde would ask scornfully ? Charlie's whole atti
tude, tone, air, words, fairly reeked with Sloanishness.
He was conferring a great honour no doubt what
ever about that. And when Anne, utterly insensible to
the honour, refused him, as delicately and considerately
as she could — for even a Sloane had feelings which
ought not to be unduly lacerated Sloanishness still
further betrayed itself. Charlie certainly did not take
his dismissal as Anne's imaginary rejected suitors did.
Instead, he became angry, and showed it ; he said two
or three quite nasty things ; Anne's temper flashed up
mutinously and she retorted with a cutting little speech
whose keenness pierced even Charlie's protective Sloan
ishness and reached the quick ; he caught up his hat and
fung himself out of the house with a very red face ;
Anne rushed up-stairs, falling twice over Miss Ada's
cushions on the way, and threw herself on her bed, in
tears of humiliation and rage. Had she actually
stooped to quarrel with a Sloane ? Was it possible
anything Charlie Sloane could say had power to make
her angry ? Oh, this was degradation, indeed -
worse even than being the rival of Nettie Blewett !
“ I wish I need never see the horrible creature
again , ” she sobbed vindictively into her pillows.
She could not avoid seeing him again, but the out
raged Charlie took care that it should not be at very
close quarters. Miss Ada's cushions were henceforth
safe from his depredations, and when he met Anne on
the street, or in Redmond's halls, his bow was icy in
the extreme. Relations between these two old school

mates continued to be thus strained for nearly a year !
Then Charlie transferred his blighted affections to a
round, rosy , snub-nosed, blue-eyed, little Sophomore
who appreciated them as they deserved, whereupon he
forgave Anne and condescended to be civil to her again ;
in a patronizing manner intended to show her just what
she had lost.
One day Anne scurried excitedly into Priscilla's
room.
Read that,” she cried, tossing Priscilla aa letter.
“ It's from Stella and she's coming to Redmond next
year — and what do you think of her idea ? I think
it's a perfectly splendid one, if we can only carry it out.
Do you suppose we can, Pris ? ”
I'll be better able to tell you when I find out what
it is,” said Priscilla, casting aside a Greek lexicon and
taking up Stella's letter. Stella Maynard had been
one of their chums at Queen's Academy and had been
teaching school ever since.
66
But I'm going to give it up, Anne dear, ” she
wrote, “and go to college next year. As I took the
third year at Queen's I can enter the Sophomore year.
I'm tired of teaching in aa back country school. Some
day I'm going to write a treatise on ‘ The Trials of a
Country Schoolmarm .' It will be aa harrowing bit of
realism . It seems to be the prevailing impression that
we live in clover, and have nothing to do but draw our
quarter's salary. My treatise shall tell the truth about
us. Why, if a week should pass without some one tell
AN UNWELCOME LOVER 87
ing me that I am doing easy work for big pay I would

conclude that I might as well order my ascension robe
immediately and to onct.' ' Well, you get your
money easy,' some rate-payer will tell me, condescend
ingly. ' All you have to do is to sit there and hear
lessons.' I used to argue the matter at first, but I'm
wiser now . Facts are stubborn things , but, as some
one has wisely said, not half so stubborn as fallacies.
So I only smile loftily now in eloquent silence. Why,
I have nine grades in my school and I have to teach a
little of everything, from investigating the interiors of
earthworms to the study of the solar system. My
youngest pupil is four— his mother sends him to
school to ' get him out of the way'- and my oldest
twenty — it ‘ suddenly struck him ’ that it would be
easier to go to school and get an education than follow
the plough any longer. In the wild effort to cram all
sorts of research into six hours a day I don't wonder
if the children feel like the little boy who was taken to
see the biograph. “ I have to look for what's coming
next before I know what went last,' he complained. I
feel like that myself .
“ And the letters I get, Anne ! Tommy's mother
writes me that Tommy is not coming on in arithmetic
as fast as she would like. He is only in simple re
duction yet, and Johnny Johnson is in fractions, and
Johnny isn't half as smart as her Tommy, and she can't
understand it. And Susy's father wants to know why
Susy can't write a letter without mis-spelling half the
words, and Dick's aunt wants me to change his seat,
because that bad Brown boy he is sitting with is teach

ing him to say naughty words.
As to the financial part -
but I'll not begin on that.
Those whom the gods wish to destroy they first make
country schoolmarms!
“ There, I feel better, after that growl. After all,
I've enjoyed these past two years. But I'm coming to
Redmond.
“ And now, Anne, I've a little plan. You know how
I loathe boarding. I've boarded for four years and
I'm so tired of it. I don't feel like enduring three years
more of it. Now, why can't you and Priscilla and I
club together, rent a little house somewhere in Kings
port, and board ourselves ? It would be cheaper than
any other way. Of course, we would have to have a
housekeeper and I have one ready on the spot. You've
heard me speak of Aunt Jamesina ? She's the sweet
est aunt that ever lived, in spite of her name. She
can't help that ! She was called Jamesina because her
father, whose name was James, was drowned at sea a
month before she was born . I always call her Aunt
Jimsie. Well, her only daughter has recently married
and gone to the foreign mission field . Aunt Jamesina
is left alone in a great big house, and she is horribly
lonesome. She will come to Kingsport and keep house
for us if we want her, and I know you'll both love her.
The more I think of the plan the more I like it. We
could have such good, independent times.
“ Now , if you and Priscilla agree to it, wouldn't it
be a good idea for you, who are on the spot, to look
around and see if you can find a suitable house this

spring ? That would be better than leaving it till the
fall . If you could get a furnished one so much the
better, but if not, we can scare up a few sticks of fur
niture between us and old family friends with attics.
Anyhow , decide as soon as you can and write me, so
that Aunt Jamesina will know what plans to make for
next year.”
“ I think it's a good idea,” said Priscilla.
“ So do I,” agreed Anne delightedly . “ Of course,
we have a. nice boarding -house here, but, when all's said
and done, a boarding house isn't home. So let's go
house-hunting at once, before exams come on ."
“ I'm afraid it will be hard enough to get a really
suitable house," warned Priscilla. “ Don't expect too
much,, Anne. Nice houses in nice localities will prob
ably be away beyond our means. We'll likely have to
content ourselves with a shabby little place on some
street whereon live people whom to know is to be
unknown, and make life inside compensate for the
outside.”
Accordingly they went house-hunting, but to find
just what they wanted proved even harder than Pris
cilla had feared. Houses there were galore, furnished
and unfurnished ; but one was too big, another too
small ; this one too expensive, that one too far from
Redmond. Exams were on and over ; the last week
of the term came and still their “ house o' dreams," as
Anne called it, remained a castle in the air.
“ We shall have to give up and wait till the fall, I
suppose,” said Priscilla wearily, as they rambled
through the park on one of April's darling days of
breeze and blue, when the harbour was creaming and
shimmering beneath the pearl-hued mists floating over
it. “We may find some shack to shelter us then ; and
if not, boarding-houses we shall have always with us. ”
“ I'm not going to worry about it just now, anyway,
and spoil this lovely afternoon,” said Anne, gazing
around her with delight. The fresh chill air was
faintly charged with the aroma of pine balsam , and the
sky above was crystal clear and blue — a great inverted
cup of blessing. Spring is singing in my blood to
day, and the lure of April is abroad on the air. I'm
seeing visions and dreaming dreams, Pris. That's be
cause the wind is from the west . I do love the west
wind. It sings of hope and gladness, doesn't it ?
When the east wind blows I always think of sorrowful
rain on the eaves and sad waves on a gray shore.
When I get old I shall have rheumatism when the wind
is east.”
“ And isn't it jolly when you discard furs and winter
garments for the first time and sally forth, like this, in
spring attire ? ” laughed Priscilla. “ Don't you feel as
if you had been made over new ? ”
Everything is new in the spring,” said Anne.
Springs themselves are always so new, too. No
spring is ever just like any other spring. It always has
something of its own to be its own peculiar sweetness.
See how green the grass is around that little pond, and
how the willow buds are bursting.”
“ And exams are over and gone — the time of Con

vocation will soon come — next Wednesday. This
day week we'll be home.”
“' I'm glad, ” said Anne dreamily. “ There are so
many things I want to do. I want to sit on the back
porch steps and feel the breeze blowing down over Mr.
Harrison's fields. I want to hunt ferns in the Haunted
Wood and gather violets in Violet Vale. Do you re
member the day of our golden picnic, Priscilla ? I
want to hear the frogs singing and the poplars whis
pering. But I've learned to love Kingsport, too, and
I'm glad I'm coming back next fall. If I hadn't won
the Thorburn I don't believe I could have. I couldn't
take any of Marilla's little hoard .”
“ If we could only find a house !” sighed Priscilla.
Look over there at Kingsport, Anne — houses,
>
houses everywhere, and not one for us. ”
66
Stop it, Pris. “' The best is yet to be.' Like the
old Roman, we'll find a house or build one. On a day
like this there's no such word as fail in my bright
lexicon .”
They lingered in the park until sunset, living in the
amazing miracle and glory and wonder of the spring
tide ; and they went home as usual, by way of Spofford
Avenue, that they might have the delight of looking at
Patty's Place.
“ I feel as if something mysterious were going to
happen right away — by the pricking of my thumbs,'
said Anne, as they went up the slope. “ It's aa nice
story-bookish feeling. Why — why — why! Pris
.
cilla Grant, look over there and tell me if it's true, or

am I seein' things ?
Priscilla looked. Anne's thumbs and eyes had not
deceived her. Over the arched gateway of Patty's
Place dangled a little, modest sign. It said “ To Let,
Furnished. Inquire Within.'
“ Priscilla,” said Anne, in a whisper, “ do you sup
pose it's possible that we could rent Patty's Place? "
“ No, I don't,” averred Priscilla. “ It would be too
good to be true. Fairy tales don't happen nowadays.
I won't hope, Anne. The disappointment would be too
awful to bear. They're sure to want more for it than
we can afford . Remember, it's on Spofford Avenue. ”
We must find out anyhow ,” said Anne resolutely.
“ It's too late to call this evening, but we'll come to
morrow. Oh, Pris, if we can get this darling spot !
I've always felt that my fortunes were linked with
Patty's Place, ever since I saw it first.”
CHAPTER X
PATTY'S PLACE
The next evening found them treading resolutely

the herring-bone walk through the tiny garden. The
April wind was filling the pine trees with its roundelay,
and the grove was alive with robins - great, plump,
saucy fellows, strutting along the paths. The girls
rang rather timidly, and were admitted by a grim and
ancient handmaiden. The door opened directly into a
large living- room , where by a cheery little fire sat two
other ladies, both of whom were also grim and ancient.
Except that one looked to be about seventy and the
other fifty, there seemed little difference between them.
Each had amazingly big, light-blue eyes behind steel
rimmed spectacles; each wore a cap and a gray shawl;
each was knitting without haste and without rest ; each
rocked placidly and looked at the girls without speak
ing ;3 and just behind each sat a large white china dog,
with round green spots all over it, a green nose and
green ears. Those dogs captured Anne's fancy on the
spot ; they seemed like the twin guardian deities of
Patty's Place.
For a few minutes nobody spoke. The girls were
too nervous to find words, and neither the ancient ladies
93
nor the china dogs seemed conversationally inclined.

Anne glanced about the room. What a dear place it
was ! Another door opened out of it directly into the
pine grove and the robins came boldly up on the very
step. The floor was spotted with round, braided mats,
such as Marilla made at Green Gables, but which were
considered out of date everywhere else, even in Avon
lea. And yet here they were on Spofford Avenue! A
big, polished grandfather's clock ticked loudly and
solemnly in a corner. There were delightful little cup
boards over the mantel-piece, behind whose glass doors
gleamed quaint bits of china. The walls were hung
with old prints and silhouettes. In one corner the
stairs went up, and at the first low turn was a long
window with an inviting seat. It was all just as Anne
had known it must be.
By this time the silence had grown too dreadful, and
Priscilla nudged Anne to intimate that she must speak.
“ We— we — saw by your sign that this house is to
-
let,” said Anne faintly, addressing the older lady, who

was evidently Miss Patty Spofford.
>
Oh, yes,” said Miss Patty. “ I intended to take
that sign down to -day.”
Then — then we are too late,” said Anne sorrow
fully. “ You've let it to some one else ? ”
“ No, but we have decided not to let it at all.”
‫و‬
“ Oh , I'm so sorry," exclaimed Anne impulsively.
“ I love this place so. I did hope we could have
got it.”
Then did Miss Patty lay down her knitting, take off
PATTY'S PLACE 95
her specs, rub them, put them on again, and for the first
time look at Anne as at a human being. The other
lady followed her example so perfectly that she might
as well have been a reflection in a mirror.
“ You love it,” said Miss Patty with emphasis.
“ Does that mean that you really love it ? Or that you
merely like the looks of it ? The girls nowadays in
dulge in such exaggerated statements that one never
can tell what they do mean. It wasn't so in my young
days. Then a girl did not say she loved turnips, in just
the same tone as she might have said she loved her
mother or her Saviour."
Anne's conscience bore her up.
“ I really do love it, ” she said gently. “ I've loved
it ever since I saw it last fall. My two college chums
and I want to keep house next year instead of board
ing, so we are looking for a little place to rent ; and
when I saw that this house was to let I was so happy."
>
If you love it, you can have it,” said Miss Patty.
Maria and I decided to-day that we would not let it
after all, because we did not like any of the people who
have wanted it. We don't have to let it. We can
afford to go to Europe even if we don't let it. It would
help us out, but not for gold will I let my home pass
into the possession of such people as have come here
and looked at it. You are different. I believe you do
Love it and will be good to it. You can have it."
“ If — if we can afford to pay what you ask for it,”
hesitated Anne.
Miss Patty named the amount required. Anne and
Priscilla looked at each other. Priscilla shook her

head.
“ I'm afraid we can't afford quite so much ,” said
Anne, choking back her disappointment. “ You see ,
we are only college girls and we are poor. ”
“ What were you thinking you could afford ?” de
manded Miss Patty, ceasing not to knit.
Anne named her amount. Miss Patty nodded
gravely.
That will do. As I told you, it is not strictly
necessary that we should let it at all. We are not rich,
but we have enough to go to Europe on. I have never
been in Europe in my life, and never expected or
wanted to go . But my niece there, Maria Spofford,
has taken a fancy to go. Now, you know a young
person like Maria can't go globe-trotting alone.”
“ No - I— I suppose not,” murmured Anne, seeing
that Miss Patty was quite solemnly in earnest.
“ Of course not. So I have to go along to look after
her. I expect to enjoy it, too ; I'm seventy years old,
but I'm not tired of living yet. I daresay I'd have gone
to Europe before if the idea had occurred to me. We
shall be away for two years, perhaps three. We sail
in June and we shall send you the key, and leave all in
order for you to take possession when you choose. We
shall pack away a few things we prize especially , but
all the rest will be left."
“ Will you leave the china dogs? ” asked Anne
timidly.
“ Would you like me to ? "
PATTY'S PLACE 97
Oh, indeed, yes. They are delightful.”

A pleased expression came into Miss Patty's face.
“ I think a great deal of those dogs,” she said
proudly. “ They are over a hundred years old, and
they have sat on either side of this fireplace ever since
my brother Aaron brought them from London fifty
years ago. Spofford Avenue was called after my
brother Aaron .”
A fine man he was,” said Miss Maria, speaking for
the first time. Ah, you don't see the like of him
nowadays.”
“ He was a good uncle to you, Maria,” said Miss
Patty, with evident emotion . You do well to re
member him .”
“ I shall always remember him , " said Miss Maria
solemnly. “ I can see him, this minute, standing there
before that fire, with his hands under his coat-tails,
beaming on us.”
Miss Maria took out her handkerchief and wiped
her eyes ; but Miss Patty came resolutely back from
the regions of sentiment to those of business.
“ I shall leave the dogs where they are, if you will
promise to be very careful of them ,” she said . “ Their
names are Gog and Magog. Gog looks to the right and
Magog to the left. And there's just one thing more.
You don't object, I hope, to this house being called
Patty's Place? ”
“ No, indeed. We think that is one of the nicest
things about it.”
“ You have sense, I see.” said Miss Patty in a tone
of great satisfaction. “ Would you believe it ? All

the people who came here to rent the house wanted to
know if they couldn't take the name off the gate during
their occupation of it. I told them roundly that the
name went with the house. This has been Patty's
Place ever since my brother Aaron left it to me in his
will, and Patty's Place it shall remain until I die and
Maria dies. After that happens the next possessor
can call it any fool name he likes,” concluded Miss
Patty, much as she might have said, “ After that -
the deluge.” And now, wouldn't you like to go over

the house and see it all before we consider the bargain
made ? "
Further exploration still further delighted the girls.
Besides the big living -room , there was a kitchen and a
small bedroom down- stairs. Up-stairs were three
rooms, one large and two small. Anne took an especial
fancy to one of the small ones, looking out into the big
pines, and hoped it would be hers. It was papered in
pale blue and had a little, old-timey toilet table with
sconces for candles. There was a diamond - paned win
dow with a seat under the blue muslin frills that would
be a satisfying spot for studying or dreaming.
“ It's all so delicious that I know we are going to
wake up and find it a fleeting vision of the night,” said
Priscilla as they went away.
“ Miss Patty and Miss Maria are hardly such stuff
as dreams are made of, ” laughed Anne. “ Can you
fancy them ' globe-trotting ' - especially in those
shawls and caps ? ”
PATTY'S PLACE 99
" I suppose they'll take them off when they really

begin to trot, ” said Priscilla, “ but I know they'll take
their knitting with them everywhere. They simply
couldn't be parted from it. They will walk about
Westminster Abbey and knit, I feel sure. Meanwhile,
Anne, we shall be living in Patty's Place and on
Spofford Avenue. I feel like a millionairess even
now .”
“ I feel like one of the morning stars that sang for
joy,” said Anne.
Phil Gordon crept into Thirty -eight, St. John's, that
night and flung herself on Anne's bed.
Girls, dear, I'm tired to death. I feel like the man
without a country -- or was it without a shadow ? I
I
forget which. Anyway, I've been packing up. ”

And I suppose you are worn out because you
couldn't decide which things to pack first, or where to
put them ,” laughed Priscilla.
E
“ E-zackly. And when I had got everything
jammed in somehow , and my landlady and her maid
had both sat on it while I locked it, I discovered I had
packed a whole lot of things I wanted for Convocation
at the very bottom . I had to unlock the old thing and
poke and dive into it for an hour before I fished out
what I wanted . I would get hold of something that
felt like what I was looking for, and I'd yank it up,
and it would be something else. No, Anne, I did NOT
swear .”
“ I didn't say you did ."”
“ Well, you looked it. But I admit my thoughts
verged on the profane. And I have such aa cold in the

head — I can do nothing but sniffle, sigh and sneeze.
Isn't that alliterative agony for you ? Queen Anne, do
say something to cheer me up."
Remember that next Thursday night you'll be back
in the land of Alec and Alonzo,” suggested Anne.
Phil shook her head dolefully.
“More alliteration. No, I don't want Alec and
Alonzo when I have a cold in the head. But what has
happened you two ? Now that I look at you closely
you seem all lighted up with an internal iridescence.
Why, you're actually shining ! What's up ? "
“We are going to live in Patty's Place next winter,"
said Anne triumphantly. Live, mark you, not board !
We've rented it, and Stella Maynard is coming, and her
aunt is going to keep house for us.
Phil bounced up, wiped her nose, and fell on her
knees before Anne.
Girls — girls — let me come, too. Oh, I'll be so
-
good. If there's no room for me I'll sleep in the little

dog-house in the orchard — I've seen it. Only let me
come.”
“ Get up, you goose .”
“ I won't stir off my marrow bones till you tell me I
can live with you next winter.”
Anne and Priscilla looked at each other. Then
Anne said slowly.
Phil dear, we'd love to have you. But we may as
Priss is poor Stella
well speak plainly. I'm poor — Pri
Maynard is poor — our housekeeping will have to be
-
PATTY'S PLACE 101
very simple and our table plain. You'd have to live as

we would. Now, you are rich and your boarding.
house fare attests the fact."
“ Oh, what do I care for that? ” demanded Phil
tragically Better a dinner of herbs where your
chums are than a stalled ox in a lonely boarding - house.
Don't think I'm all stomach, girls. I'll be willing to
live on bread and water — with just a leetle jam — if
-
you'll let me come. ”

“ And then ,” continued Anne, " there will be a good
deal of work to be done. Stella's aunt can't do it all.
We all expect to have our chores to do. Now, you
“ Toil not, neither do I spin ,” finished Philippa.
“ But I'll learn to do things. You'll only have to show
me once .I can make my own bed to begin with. And
remember that, though I can't cook, I can keep my tem
per. That's something. And I never growl about
the weather. That's more. Oh, please, please ! I
never wanted anything so much in my life — and this
floor is awfully hard.”
“ There's just one more thing," said Priscilla reso
lutely. “ You , Phil, as all Redmond knows, entertain
callers almost every evening. Now, at Patty's Place
we can't do that. We have decided that we shall be at
home to our friends on Friday evenings only. If you
come with us you'll have to abide by that rule.”
66
Well, you don't think I'll mind that, do you ?

Why, I'm glad of it. II knew I should have had some
such rule myself, but I hadn't enough decision to make
it or stick to it. When I can shuffle off the responsi
bility on you it will be a real relief. If you won't let

me cast in my lot with you I'll die of the disappoint
ment and then I'll come back and haunt you. I'll camp
on the very doorstep of Patty's Place and you won't be
able to go out or come in without falling over my
>
spook.”
Again Anne and Priscilla exchanged eloquent looks.
“ Well, ” said Anne, “ of course we can't promise to
take you until we've consulted with Stella ; but I don't
think she'll object, and, as far as we are concerned, you
may come and glad welcome.”
“ If you get tired of our simple life you can leave us,
and no questions asked ,” added Priscilla.
Phil sprang up, hugged them both jubilantly, and
went on her way rejoicing.
I hope things will go right,” said Priscilla soberly.
We must make them go right, ” avowed Anne. “ I
think Phil will fit into our 'appy little 'ome very well.”
“ Oh, Phil's a dear to rattle round with and be chums.
And, of course, the more there are of us the easier it
will be on our slim purses. But how will she be to
live with ? You have to summer and winter with any
one before you know if she's livable or not.”'
Oh, well, we'll all be put to the test, as far as that
goes. And we must quit us like sensible folk, living
and let live. Phil isn't selfish , though she's a little
thoughtless, and I believe we will all get on beautifully
in Patty's Place.”
CHAPTER XI
THE ROUND OF LIFE
ANNE was back in Avonlea with the luster of the

Thorburn Scholarship on her brow. People told her
she hadn't changed much, in a tone which hinted they
were surprised and a little disappointed she hadn't.
Avonlea had not changed, either. At least, so it
seemed at first. But as Anne sat in the Green Gables
pew, on the first Sunday after her return , and looked
over the congregation , she saw several little changes
which, all coming home to her at once, made her realize
that time did not quite stand still, even in Avonlea. A
new minister was in the pulpit. In the pews more than
one familiar face was missing forever. Old “ Uncle
Abe,” his prophesying over and done with, Mrs. Peter
Sloane, who had sighed , it was to be hoped, for the last
time, Timothy Cotton, who, as Mrs. Rachel Lynde said
“ had actually managed to die at last after practising
at it for twenty years, ” and old Josiah Sloane, whom
nobody knew in his coffin because he had his whiskers
neatly trimmed, were all sleeping in the little graveyard
behind the church. And Billy Andrews was married
to Nettie Blewett ! They “ appeared out that Sun
day. When Billy, beaming with pride and happiness,
103
showed his be- plumed and be -silked bride into the

Harmon Andrews' pew, Anne dropped her lids to
hide her dancing eyes. She recalled the stormy winter
night of the Christmas holidays when Jane had pro
posed for Billy. He certainly had not broken his heart
over his rejection. Anne wondered if Jane had also
proposed to Nettie for him, or if he had mustered
enough spunk to ask the fateful question himself. All
the Andrews family seemed to share in his pride and
pleasure, from Mrs. Harmon in the pew to Jane in the
choir. Jane had resigned from the Avonlea school and
intended to go West in the fall.
Can't get a beau in Avonlea, that's what, ” said Mrs.
Rachel Lynde scornfully. “Says she thinks she'll have
better health out West. I never heard her health was
poor before .”
Jane is aa nice girl," Anne had said loyally. “ She
never tried to attract attention , as some did ."
Oh, she never chased the boys, if that's what you
mean,” said Mrs. Rachel. " But she'd like to be
married, just as much as anybody, that's what. What
else would take her out West to some forsaken place
whose only recommendation is that men are plenty and
women scarce ? Don't you tell me!”
But it was not at Jane Anne gazed that day in dis
may and surprise. It was at Ruby Gillis, who sat
beside her in the choir. What had happened to Ruby ?
She was even handsomer than ever ; but her blue eyes
were too bright and lustrous, and the colour of her
cheeks was hectically brilliant ; besides, she was very
THE ROUND OF LIFE 105
thin ; the hands that held her hymn -book were almost
transparent in their delicacy.
Is Ruby Gillis ill? ” Anne asked of Mrs. Lynde, as
they went home from church .
Ruby Gillis is dying of galloping consumption ,”
said Mrs. Lynde bluntly. “Everybody knows it ex
cept herself and her family. They won't give in. If
you ask them , she's perfectly well. She hasn't been
able to teach since she had that attack of congestion in
the winter, but she says she's going to teach again in the
fall, and she's after the White Sands school. She'll be
in her grave, poor girl, when White Sands school opens,
that's what.”
Anne listened in shocked silence. Ruby Gillis, her
old school-chum, dying ? Could it be possible ? Of
late years they had grown apart; but the old tie of
school-girl intimacy was there, and made itself felt
sharply in the tug the news gave at Anne's heart
strings. Ruby, the brilliant, the merry, the coquettish !
It was impossible to associate the thought of her with
anything like death . She had greeted Anne with gay
cordiality after church, and urged her to come up the
next evening.
“ I'll be away Tuesday and Wednesday evenings,”
she had whispered triumphantly. “ There's a concert
at Carmody and a party at White Sands. Herb Spen
cer's going to take me. He's my latest. Be sure to
come up to-morrow. I'm dying for a good talk with
you. I want to hear all about your doings at Red
mond .”
Anne knew that Ruby meant that she wanted to tell

Anne all about her own recent flirtations, but she prom
ised to go, and Diana offered to go with her.
“ I've been wanting to go to see Ruby for a long
while,” she told Anne, when they left Green Gables the
next evening, “ but I really couldn't go alone. It's so
awful to hear Ruby rattling on as she does, and pre
tending there is nothing the matter with her, even when
she can hardly speak for coughing. She's fighting so
hard for her life, and yet she hasn't any chance at all,
they say.”
The girls walked silently down the red, twilit road .
The robins were singing vespers in the high tree-tops,
filling the golden air with their jubilant voices. The
silver fluting of the frogs came from marshes and
ponds, over fields where seeds were beginning to stir
with life and thrili to the sunshine and rain that had
drifted over them. The air was fragrant with the
wild, sweet, wholesome smell of young raspberry
copses. White mists were hovering in the silent hol
lows and violet stars were shining bluely on the brook
lands.
“ What a beautiful sunset,” said Diana. “ Look ,
Anne, it's just like a land in itself, isn't it ? That
long, low bank of purple cloud is the shore, and the
clear sky further on is like a golden sea .”
“ If we could sail to it in the moonshine boat Paul
wrote of in his old composition — you remember ? .
how nice it would be,” said Anne, rousing from her

reverie. “ Do you think we could find all our yester
THE ROUND OF LIFE 10 %
days there, Diana — all our old springs and blossoms ?

The beds of flowers that Paul saw there are the roses
that have bloomed for us in the past ? "
“ Don't ! 9” said Diana. You make me feel as if
we were old women with everything in life behind
us.”
“ I think I've almost felt as if we were since I heard
about poor Ruby,” said Anne. If it is true that she
is dying any other sad thing might be true, too."
“ You don't mind calling in at Elisha Wright's for
a moment, do you ? ” asked Diana. “ Mother asked
me to leave this little dish of jelly for Aunt Atossa .”
“ Who is Aunt Atossa ? ”
“ Oh, haven't you heard ? She's Mrs. Samson
C
Coates of Spencervale — Mrs. Elisha Wright's aunt.

She's father's aunt, too. Her husband died last
winter and she was left very poor and lonely, so
the Wrights took her to live with them. Mother
thought we ought to take her, but father put his foot
down . Live with Aunt Atossa he would not."
“ Is she so terrible ? ” asked Anne absently.
“ You'll probably see what she's like before we can
get away,” said Diana significantly. “ Father says
she has a face like a hatchet — it cuts the air.
-
But
her tongue is sharper still."
Late as it was Aunt Atossa was cutting potato sets
in the Wright kitchen. She wore a faded old wrap
per, and her gray hair was decidedly untidy. Aunt
Atossa did not like being “caught in a kilter,” so she
went out of her way to be disagreeable .
Oh, so you're Anne Shirley ? ” she said, when
Diana introduced Anne. “ I've heard of you.” Her
tone implied that she had heard nothing good. “ Mrs.
Andrews was telling me you were home. She said
you had improved a good deal.”
There was no doubt Aunt Atossa thought there was
plenty of room for further improvement. She ceased
not from cutting sets with much energy.
' Is it any use to ask you to sit down ? ” she in
quired sarcastically. “ Of course, there's nothing
very entertaining here for you . The rest are all
away.”
“ Mother sent you this little pot of rhubarb jelly,"
said Diana pleasantly . She made it to-day and
thought you might like some.”
Oh, thanks,” said Aunt Atossa sourly. “ I never
fancy your mother's jelly — she always makes it too
sweet. However, I'll try to worry some down. My
appetite's been dreadful poor this spring. I'm far
from well, ” continued Aunt Atossa solemnly, “ but
still I keep a -doing. People who can't work aren't
wanted here. If it isn't too much trouble will you be
condescending enough to set the jelly in the pantry ?
I'm in a hurry to get these spuds done to - night. I
suppose you two ladies never do anything like this.
You'd be afraid of spoiling your hands.”
“ I used to cut potato sets before we rented the
farm ," smiled Anne.
“ I do it yet, ” laughed Diana. “ I cut sets three
days last week. Of course,” she added teasingly, “ I
did my hands up in lemon juice and kid gloves every

>
night after it.”
Aunt Atossa sniffed.
““ I suppose you got that notion out of some of those
silly magazines you read so many of. I wonder your
mother allows you.. But she always spoiled you. We
all thought when George married her she wouldn't be
a suitable wife for him .”
Aunt Atossa sighed heavily, as if all forebodings
upon the occasion of George Barry's marriage had been
amply and darkly fulfilled.
'Going, are you ? ” she inquired, as the girls rose.
Well, I suppose you can't find much amusement talk
ing to an old woman like me. It's such aa pity the boys
ain't home.”
We want to run in and see Ruby Gillis a little
while, ” explained Diana.
Oh, anything does for an excuse, of course,” said
Aunt Atossa, amiably. “ Just whip in and whip out
before you have time to say how-do- decently. It's
college airs, I s'pose. You'd be wiser to keep away
from Ruby Gillis. The doctors say consumption's
catching. I always knew Ruby'd get something, gad
ding off to Boston last fall for a visit. People who
ain't content to stay home always catch something."
People who don't go visiting catch things, too.
Sometimes they even die, ” said Diana solemnly.
“ Then they don't have themselves to blame for it, ”
retorted Aunt Atossa triumphantly.. “ II hear you are
to be married in June, Diana."
“ There is no truth in that report,” said Diana,

blushing.
“ Well, don't put it off too long ,” said Aunt Atossa
significantly. “ You'll fade soon — you're all com
.
plexion and hair. And the Wrights are terrible

fickle. You ought to wear a hat, Miss Shirley. Your
nose is freckling scandalous. My, but you are red
headed ! Well, I s'pose we're all as the Lord made us !
Give Marilla Cuthbert my respects. She's never been
to see me since I come to Avonlea, b'it I s'pose I
oughtn't to complain. The Cuthberts always did
think themselves a cut higher than any one else round
here."
“ Oh, isn't she dreadful ? ” gasped Diana, as they

escaped down the lane.
“ She's worse than Miss Eliza Andrews,” said Anne.
“ But then think of living all your life with a name like
Atossa ! Wouldn't it sour almost any one ? She
should have tried to imagine her name was Cordelia.
It might have helped her a great deal. It certainly
helped me in the days when I didn't like Anne. "
Josie Pye will be just like her when she grows
up,” said Diana. Josie's mother and Aunt Atossa
are cousins, you know .. Oh, dear, I'm glad that's
over . She's so malicious she seems to put a bad
flavour in everything. Father tells such a funny story
about her. One time they had a minister in Spencer
vale who was a very good, spiritual man but very deaf.
He couldn't hear any ordinary conversation at all.
Well, they used to have a prayer meeting on Sunday
evenings, and all the church members present would

get up and pray in turn, or say a few words on some
Bible verse . But one evening Aunt Atossa bounced
up. She didn't either pray or preach. Instead, she

lit into everybody else in the church and gave them a
fearful raking down, calling them right out by name
and telling them how they all had behaved, and cast
ing up all the quarrels and scandals of the past ten
years. Finally she wound up by saying that she was
disgusted with Spencervale church and she never
meant to darken its door again, and she hoped a fear
ful judgment would come upon it. Then she sat down
out of breath, and the minister, who hadn't heard a
word she said, immediately remarked, in a very devout
voice, ‘ Amen ! The Lord grant our dear sister's
prayer ! ' You ought to hear father tell the story.”
Speaking of stories, Diana,” remarked Anne, in a
significant, confidential tone , “ do you know that lately
I have been wondering if I could write a short story - -
a story that would be good enough to be published ? ”

Why, of course you could ,” said Diana, after she
had grasped the amazing suggestion. 66 You used to
write perfectly thrilling stories years ago in our old
9
Story Club . ”
9)
“ Well, I hardly meant one of that kind of stories,”
smiled Anne. “ I've been thinking about it a little of
late, but I'm almost afraid to try, for, if I should fail,
it would be too humiliating.”
“ I heard Priscilla say once that all Mrs. Morgan's
first stories were rejected. But I'm sure yours
wouldn't be, Anne, for it's likely editors have more

sense nowadays."
Margaret Burton , one of the Junior girls at Red
mond, wrote a story last winter and it was published in
the Canadian Woman. I really do think I could write
one at least as good.”
“ And will you have it published in the Canadian
Woman ? ”
“ I might try one of the bigger magazines first. It
all depends on what kind of a story I write.”
What is it to be about ?
“ I don't know yet. I want to get hold of a good
plot. I believe that is very necessary from an editor's
point of view. The only thing I've settled on is the
heroine's name. It is to be Averil Lester. Rather
pretty, don't you think ? Don't mention this to any
one, Diana. I haven't told anybody but you and Mr.
Harrison . He wasn't very encouraging — he said
there was far too much trash written nowadays as it
was, and he'd expected something better of me, after a
year at college."
What does Mr. Harrison know about it ? ” de
manded Diana scornfully.
They found the Gillis home gay with lights and
callers. Leonard Kimball, of Spencervale, and Mor
gan Bell, of Carmody, were glaring at each other
across the parlour. Several merry girls had dropped in.
Ruby was dressed in white and her eyes and cheeks
were very brilliant. She laughed and chattered in
cessantly, and after the other girls had gone she took
Anne up-stairs to display her new summer dresses.

“ I've a blue silk to make up yet, but it's a little
heavy for summer wear. I think I'll leave it until the
fall. I'm going to teach in White Sands, you know .
How do you like my hat ? That one you had on in
church yesterday was real dinky. But I like some
thing brighter for myself. Did you notice those two
ridiculous boys down-stairs ? They've both come de
termined to sit each other out. I don't care a single
bit about either of them, you know. Herb Spencer is
the one I like. Sometimes I really do think's he's
Mr. Right. At Christmas I thought the Spencervale
schoolmaster was that. But I found out something
about him that turned me against him. He nearly
went insane when I turned him down. I wish those
two boys hadn't come to -night
- .. I wanted to have a
nice good talk with you, Anne, and tell you such heaps
of things. You and I were always good chums,
weren't we ? ”
Ruby slipped her arm about Anne's waist with a
shallow little laugh. But just for a moment their
eyes met, and, behind all the luster of Ruby's, Anne
saw something that made her heart ache.
“ Come up often, won't you, Anne ? ” whispered
Ruby. Come alone I want you.”
66
Are you feeling quite well, Ruby ? ”
“ Me! Why, I'm perfectly well. I never felt bet
ter in my life. Of course, that congestion last winter
pulled me down a little. But just see my colour. I
don't look much like an invalid, I'm sure.”
Ruby's voice was almost sharp. She pulled her

arm away from Anne, as if in resentment, and ran
down -stairs, where she was gayer than ever, apparently
so much absorbed in bantering her two swains that
Diana and Anne felt rather out of it and soon went
away .
CHAPTER XII
“ AVERIL'S ATONEMENT 99
99
“ What are you dreaming of, Anne ? "
The two girls were loitering one evening in a fairy
hollow of the brook . Ferns nodded in it, and little
grasses were green, and wild pears hung finely -scented,
white curtains around it .
Anne roused herself from her reverie with a happy
sigh.
“ I was thinking out my story, Diana."
Oh, have you really begun it ?” cried Diana, all
alight with eager interest in a moment.
“ Yes, I have only a few pages written, but I have it
all pretty well thought out. I've had such a time to
get a suitable plot. None of the plots that suggested
themselves suited a girl named Averil .”
Couldn't you have changed her name ?'
“ No, the thing was impossible. I tried to, but I
couldn't do it, any more than I could change yours.
Averil was so real to me that no matter what other
name I tried to give her I just thought of her as
Averil behind it all. But finally I got a plou that
matched her. Then came the excitement of choosing
names for all my characters. You have no idea how
fascinating that is. I've lain awake for hours think
115
ing over those names. The hero's name is Perceval

Dalrymple. "
>
“ Have you named all the characters ? ” asked Diana
wistfully. ““ If you hadn't I was going to ask you to
let me name one — just some unimportant person.
I'd feel as if I had aa share in the story then .”
“ You may name the little hired boy who lived with
the Lesters, " conceded Anne. “ He is not very im
portant, but he is the only one left unnamed.”
“Call him Raymond Fitzosborne,” suggested Diana,
who had a store of such names laid away in her mem
ory, relics of the old Story Club," which she and
Anne and Jane Andrews and Ruby Gillis had had in
their schooldays.
Anne shook her head doubtfully.
“ I'm afraid that is too aristocratic a name for a
chore boy, Diana. I couldn't imagine a Fitzosborne
feeding pigs and picking up chips, could you ? ”
Diana didn't see why, if you had an imagination at
all, you couldn't stretch it to that extent ; but prob
ably Anne knew best, and the chore boy was finally
christened Robert Ray, to be called Bobby should oc
casion require .
“ How much do you suppose you'll get for it? ”
asked Diana.
But Anne had not thought about this at all. She
was in pursuit of fame, not filthy lucre, and her liter
ary dreams were as yet untainted by mercenary con
siderations.
“ You'll let me read it, won't you ? ” pleaded Diana.
66
AVERIL’S ATONEMENT " 117
“ When it is finished I'll read it to you and Mr.

Harrison, and I shall want you to criticise it severely.
No one else shall see it until it is published . ”
-
“ How are you going to end it — happily or un

happily ? ”
I'm not sure. I'd like it to end unhappily, because
that would be so much more romantic. But I under
stand editors have a prejudice against sad endings. I
heard Professor Hamilton say once that nobody but a
genius should try to write an unhappy ending. And, ”
concluded Anne modestly, “ I'm anything but a gen
ius. ”
“ Oh, I like happy endings best. You'd better let
him marry her, ” said Diana, who, especially since her
engagement to Fred, thought this was how every story
should end.
“ But you like to cry over stories ? "
Oh, yes, in the middle of them . But I like every
thing to come right at last . ”
“ I must have one pathetic scene in it,” said Anne
thoughtfully. “ I might let Robert Ray be injured in
an accident and have a death scene.”
No, you mustn't kill Bobby off,” declared Diana,
laughing “ He belongs to me and I want him to live
and flourish. Kill somebody else if you have to . ”
For the next fortnight Anne writhed or revelled,
according to mood, in her literary pursuits. Now she
would be jubilant over a brilliant idea, now despairing
because some contrary character would not behave
properly. Diana could not understand this.
“ Make them do as you want them to, ” she said.

“ I can't,"” mourned Anne. “ Averil is such an un
managable heroine. She will do and say things I
never meant her to. Then that spoils everything
that went before and I have to write it all over
>
again .”
Finally, however, the story was finished, and Anne
read it to Diana in the seclusion of the porch gable.
She had achieved her “ pathetic scene ” without sacri
ficing Robert Ray, and she kept a watchful eye on
Diana as she read it. Diana rose to the occasion and
cried properly ; but, when the end came, she looked a
little disappointed .
“ Why did you kill Maurice Lennox ? ” she asked re
proachfully.
“ He was the villain ,” protested Anne. “ He had
to be punished .”
“ I like him best of them all,” said unreasonable
Diana.
“Well, he's dead, and he'll have to stay dead , ” said
Anne, rather resent fully. “ If I had let him live he'd
have gone on persecuting Averil and Perceval. ”
Yes — unless you had reformed him .”
“ That wouldn't have been romantic, and, besides,
it would have made the story too long ."
" Well, anyway, it's a perfectly elegant story, Anne,
and will make you famous, of that I'm sure. Have
you got a title for it ? "
Oh, I decided on the title long ago. I call it
Averils Atonement. Doesn't that sound nice and
“ AVERIL’S ATONEMENT " 119
alliterative ? Now, Diana, tell me candidly, do you

see any faults in my story ? ”
“ Well,” hesitated Diana, “ that part where Averil
makes the cake doesn't seem to me quite romantic
enough to match the rest. It's just what anybody
might do. Heroines shouldn't do cooking, I think .”
Why, that is where the humour comes in, and it's
one of the best parts of the whole story,” said Anne.
And it may be stated that in this she was quite
right.
Diana prudently refrained from any further criti
cism, but Mr. Harrison was much harder to please.
First he told her there was entirely too much descrip
tion in the story .
“ Cut out all those flowery passages,” he said un
feelingly.
Anne had an uncomfortable conviction that Mr.
Harrison was right , and she forced herself to expunge
most of her beloved descriptions, though it took three
re-writings before the story could be pruned down to
please the fastidious Mr. Harrison.
“ I've left out all the descriptions but the sunset ,”
she said at last. “ I simply couldn't let it go. It was
the best of them all."
It hasn't anything to do with the story,” said Mr.
Harrison, “ and you shouldn't have laid the scene
among rich city people. What do you know of
them ? Why didn't you lay it right here in Avonlea
-
changing the name, of course, or else Mrs. Rache!
Lynde would probably think she was the heroine.”
“ Oh, that would never have done, ” protested Anne.

“ Avonlea is the dearest place in the world, but it isn't
quite romantic enough for the scene of a story .”
“ I daresay there's been many a romance in Avonlea
- and many a tragedy, too ,” said Mr. Harrison drily.
“ But your folks ain't like real folks anywhere. They
talk too much and use too high -flown language.
There's one place where that Dalrymple chap talks even
on for two pages, and never lets the girl get a word in
edgewise. If he'd done that in real life she'd have
pitched him .”
“ I don't believe it,” said Anne flatly. In her secret
soul she thought that the beautiful, poetical things said
to Averil would win any girl's heart completely. Be
sides, it was gruesome to hear of Averil, the stately,
queen-like Averil, " pitching ” any one. Averil “ de
clined her suitors."
Anyhow ," resumed the merciless Mr. Harrison,
“ I don't see why Maurice Lennox didn't get her. He
was twice the man the other is. He did bad things, but
he did them. Perceval hadn't time for anything but
mooning.”
Mooning.” That was even worse than "pitch
ing!”
Maurice Lennox was the villain ,” said Anne in
dignantly. “ I don't see why every one likes him bet
ter than Perceval."
“Perceval is too good. He's aggravating. Next
time you write about a hero put aа . little spice of human
Dature in him . ”
“ AVERIL'S ATONEMENT " 121
“ Averil couldn't have married Maurice. He was

bad .”
“ She'd have reformed him .. You can reform a
man ; you can't reform a jelly -fish , of course. Your
story isn't bad — it's kind of interesting, I'll admit.
But you're too young to write a story that would be
worth while. Wait ten years.”
Anne made up her mind that the next time she wrote
a story she wouldn't ask anybody to criticise it. It
was too discouraging. She would not read the story
to Gilbert, although she told him about it.
If it is a success you'll see it when it is published,
Gilbert, but if it is a failure nobody shall ever see it.”
Marilla knew nothing about the venture. In imag
ination Anne saw herself reading a story out of a
magazine to Marilla , entrapping her into praise of it
- for in imagination all things are possible — and
then triumphantly announcing herself the author.
One day Anne took to the Post Office a long, bulky
envelope, addressed, with the delightful confidence of
youth and inexperience, to the very biggest of the
i
“ big " magazines. Diana was as excited over it as
Anne herself.
“ How long do you suppose it will be before you
hear from it ? ” she asked .
“ It shouldn't be longer than a fortnight. Oh, how
happy and proud I shall be if it is accepted !”
“ Of course it will be accepted, and they will likely
ask you to send them more. You may be as famous
as Mrs. Morgan some day, Anne, and then how proud
I'll be of knowing you,” said Diana, who possessed ,at

least, the striking merit of an unselfish admiration of
the gifts and graces of her friends.
A week of delightful dreaming followed, and then
came a bitter awakening. One evening Diana found
Anne in the porch gable, with suspicious-looking eyes.
On the table lay a long envelope and a crumpled manu
script.
Anne, your story hasn't come back ? ” cried Diana
incredulously .
“ Yes, it has, ” said Anne shortly.
" Well, that editor must be crazy. What reason
did he give ? ”
“ No reason at all. There is just a printed slip say
ing that it wasn't found available.”
“ I never thought much of that magazine, anyway,”
said Diana hotly. The stories in it are not half as
interesting as those in the Canadian Woman, although
it costs so much more. I suppose the editor is prej
udiced against any one who isn't a Yankee. Don't
be discouraged, Anne. Remember how Mrs. Morgan's
stories came back. Send yours to the Canadian
Woman . ”
“ I believe I will, ” said Anne, plucking up heart.
“ And if it is published I'll send that American editor
a marked copy. But I'll cut the sunset out. I believe
Mr. Harrison was right.”
Out came the sunset ; but in spite of this heroic
mutilation the editor of the Canadian Woman sent
Averils Atonement back so promptly that the indig
" AVERIL'S ATONEMENT " 123
nant Diana declared that it couldn't have been read at

all, and vowed she was going to stop her subscription
immediately. Anne took this second rejection with
the calmness of despair. She locked the story away in
the garret trunk where the old Story Club tales re
posed ; but first she yielded to Diana's entreaties and
gave her a copy.
This is the end of my literary ambitions,” she said
bitterly.
She never mentioned the matter to Mr. Harrison ,
but one evening he asked her bluntly if her story had
been accepted .
“ No, the editor wouldn't take it,” she answered
briefly.
Mr. Harrison looked sidewise at the flushed, delicate
profile.
Well, I suppose you'll keep on writing them ,” he
said encouragingly .
“ No, I shall never try to write a story again ,” de
clared Anne, with the hopeless finality of nineteen
when a door is shut in its face .
“ I wouldn't give up altogether," said Mr. Harrison
reflectively. “ I'd write a story once in a while, but
I wouldn't pester editors with it. I'd write of people
and places like I knew, and I'd make my characters
talk every-day English ; and I'd let the sun rise and set
in the usual quiet way without much fuss over the fact.
If I had to have villains at all, I'd give them a chance,
-
Anne — I'd give them a chance. There are some

terrible bad men in the world, I suppose, but you'd
have to go a long piece to find them — though Mrs.
-
Lynde believes we're all bad. But most of us have got

a little decency somewhere in us. Keep on writing,
Anne.”
“ No. It was very foolish of me to attempt it.
When I'm through Redmond I'll stick to teaching. I
ian teach. I can't write stories.”
“ It'll be time for you to be getting a husband when
you're through Redmond , ” said Mr. Harrison. “ I
-
don't believe in putting marrying off too long — like I

did .”
Anne got up and marched home. There were times
when Mr. Harrison was really intolerable. Pitch
ing,” “ mooning,” and “getting a husband.” Ow !!
CHAPTER XIII
THE WAY OF TRANSGRESSORS
Davy and Dora were ready for Sunday School.

They were going alone, which did not often happen,
for Mrs. Lynde always attended Sunday School. But
Mrs. Lynde had twisted her ankle and was lame, so
she was staying home this morning. The twins were
also to represent the family at church , for Anne had
gone away the evening before to spend Sunday with
friends in Carmody, and Marilla had one of her head
aches.
Davy came down-stairs slowly. Dora was waiting
in the hall for him, having been made ready by Mrs.
Lynde. Davy had attended to his own preparations.
He had a cent in his pocket for the Sunday School col
lection, and aa five -cent piece for the church collection ;
he carried his Bible in one hand and his Sunday School
quarterly in the other ; he knew his lesson and his
Golden Text and his catechism question perfectly.
Had he not studied them — perforce — in Mrs.
Lynde's kitchen, all last Sunday afternoon ? Davy,
therefore, should have been in a placid frame of mind.
As a matter of fact, despite text ard catechism, he was
inwardly as a ravening wolf.
125
Mrs. Lynde limped out of her kitchen as he joined

Dora.
Are you clean ? ” she demanded severely.
· Yes — all of me that shows,” Davy answered with
a defiant scowl.
Mrs. Rachel sigked. She had her suspicions about
Davy's neck and ears. But she knew that if she at
tempted to make a personal examination Davy would
likely take to his heels and she could not pursue him
to-day.
Well, be sure you behave yourselves, ” she warned
them . “ Don't walk in the dust. Don't stop in the
porch to talk to the other children. Don't squirm or
wriggle in your places. Don't forget the Golden Text.
Don't lose your collection or forget to put it in. Don't
whisper at prayer time, and don't forget to pay atten
tion to the sermon .”
Davy deigned no response. He marched away down
the lane, followed by the meek Dora. But his soul
seethed within him. Davy had suffered, or thought he
had suffered, many things at the hands and tongue of
Mrs. Rachel Lynde since she had come to Green Gables,
for Mrs. Lynde could not live with anybody, whether
they were nine or ninety, without trying to bring them
up properly. And it was only the preceding afternoon
that she had interfered to influence Marilla against al
lowing Davy to go fishing with the Timothy Cottons.
Davy was still boiling over this.
As soon as he was out of the lane Davy stopped and
twisted his countenance into such an unearthly and ter
THE WAY OF TRANSGRESSORS 127
rific contortion that Dora, although she knew his gifts

in that respect, was honestly alarmed lest he should
never in the world be able to get it straightened out
again.
66
Darn her, ” exploded Davy.
“ Oh, Davy, don't swear, ” gasped Dora in dismay.
Darn ’ isn't swearing — not real swearing. And
I don't care if it is,” retorted Davy recklessly.
“ Well, if you must say dreadful words don't say
them on Sunday,” pleaded Dora.
Davy was as yet far from repentance, but in his
secret soul he felt that, perhaps, he had gone a little
too far.
“ I'm going to invent a swear word of my own,”
he declared.
“ God will punish you if you do , ” said Dora
solemnly.
Then I think God is a mean old scamp,” retorted
Davy. “ Doesn't He know a fellow must have some
way of ' spressing his feelings ?
She expected that Davy
Davy !!! ” said Dora .
would be struck down dead on the spot. But nothing
happened.
Anyway, I ain't going to stand any more of Mrs.
Lynde's bossing,” spluttered Davy. “ Anne and
Marilla may have the right to boss me, but she hasn't.
I'm going to do every single thing she told me not to
do. You watch me."
In grim, deliberate silence, while Dora watched him
with the fascination of horror, Davy stepped off the
green grass of the roadside, ankle deep into the fine

dust which four weeks of rainless weather had made
on the road, and marched along in it, shuffling his feet
viciously until he was enveloped in a hazy cloud.
“ That's the beginning,” he announced triumphantly.
" And I'm going to stop in the porch and talk as long
as there's anybody there to talk to. I'm going to
squirm and wriggle and whisper, and I'm going to say
I don't know the Golden Text. And I'm going to
throw away both of my collections right now ."
And Davy hurled cent and nickel over Mr. Barry's
fence with fierce delight.
“ Satan made you do that,” said Dora reproachfully.
“ He didn't, ” cried Davy indignantly . “ I just
thought it out for myself. And I've thought of some
thing else. I'm not going to Sunday School or church
at all. I'm going up to play with the Cottons. They
told me yesterday they weren't going to Sunday School
to-day, 'cause their mother was away and there was no
body to make them. Come along, Dora, we'll have a
great time.”
“ I don't want to go,” protested Dora.
“ You've got to,” said Davy. “ If you don't come
I'll tell Marilla that Frank Bell kissed you in school
last Monday.”
“ I couldn't help it. I didn't know he was going to , "
cried Dora, blushing scarlet.
“ Well, you didn't slap him or seem a bit cross,” re
torted Davy. “ I'll tell her that, too, if you don't
come. We'll take the short cut up this field.”
“ I'm afraid of those cows," protested poor Dora,

seeing a prospect of escape.
66
The very idea of your being scared of those cows,”
scoffed Davy. “ Why, they're both younger than
you ."
They're bigger,” said Dora.
They won't hurt you. Come along, now. This is
II
great. When I grow up ain't going to bother going
to church at all. I believe I can get to heaven by my
self.”
“ You'll go to the other place if you break the Sab
bath day,” said unhappy Dora, following him sorely
against her will.
But Davy was not scared — yet.-
Hell was very far

off, and the delights of a fishing expedition with the
Cottons were very near . He wished Dora had more
spunk. She kept looking back as if she were going to
cry every minute, and that spoiled a fellow's fun.
Hang girls, anyway. Davy did not say “ darn ” this
time, even in thought. He was not sorry — yet – -
that he had said it once, but it might be as well

not to tempt the Unknown Powers too far on one
day.
The small Cottons were playing in their back yard,
and hailed Davy's appearance with whoops of delight.
Pete, Tommy, Adolphus, and Mirabel Cotton were all
alone. Their mother and older sisters were away.
Dora was thankful Mirabel was there, at least. She
had been afraid she would be alone in aa crowd of boys.
Mirabel was almost as bad as a boy — she was so noisy
and sunburned and reckless. But at least she wore

dresses.
“ We've come to go fishing,” announced Davy.
“ Whoop,” yelled the Cottons. They rushed away
to dig worms at once, Mirabel leading the van with a
tin can . Dora could have sat down and cried. Oh,
if only that hateful Frank Bell had never kissed her !
Then she could have defied Davy, and gone to her be
loved Sunday School.
They dared not, of course, go fishing on the pond,
where they would be seen by people going to church.
They had to resort to the brook in the woods behind
the Cotton house. But it was full of trout, and they
had a glorious time that morning - at least the Cot
tons certainly had, and Davy seemed to have it. Not
being entirely bereft of prudence, he had discarded
boots and stockings and borrowed Tommy Cotton's
overalls. Thus accoutered, bog and marsh and under
growth had no terrors for him. Dora was frankly
and manifestly miserable. She followed the others in
their peregrinations from pool to pool, clasping her
Bible and quarterly tightly and thinking with bitter
ness of soul of her beloved class where she should be
sitting that very moment, before a teacher she adored.
Instead, here she was roaming the woods with those
half-wild Cottons, trying to keep her boots clean and
her pretty white dress free from rents and stains.
Mirabel had offered the loan of an apron but Dora
had scornfully refused.
The trout bit as they always do on Sundays. In an
hour the transgressors had all the fish they wanted,

so they returned to the house, much to Dora's relief.
She sat primly on a hencoop in the yard while the
others played an uproarious game of tag ; and then
they all climbed to the top of the pig -house roof and
cut their initials on the saddle-board. The flat- roofed
henhouse and a pile of straw beneath gave Davy an
other inspiration. They spent a splendid half hour
climbing on the roof and diving off into the straw with
whoops and yells.
But even unlawful pleasures must come to an end.
When the rumble of wheels over the pond bridge told
that people were going home from church Davy knew
they must go. He discarded Tommy's overalls, re
sumed his own rightful attire, and turned away from
his string of trout with a sigh. No use to think of tak
ing them home.
“ Well, hadn't we a splendid time? ” he demanded
defiantly, as they went down the hill field .
“ I hadn't,” said Dora flatly. And I don't be
lieve you had — really -— either,” she added, with a
flash of insight that was not to be expected of her.
“ I had so , ” cried Davy, but in the voice of one who
doth protest too much . “ No wonder you hadn't
just sitting there like a like a mule.”
“ I ain't going to 'sociate with the Cottons,” said
Dora loftily .
>
“ The Cottons are all right,” retorted Davy. “ And

they have far better times than we have. They do
just as they please and say just what they like be
fore everybody. I'm going to do that, too, after

this .”
There are lots of things you wouldn't dare say be
fore everybody," averred Dora .
No, there isn't."
“ There is, too. Would you, " demanded Dora
gravely, “would you say ' tomcat ’ before the minis
ter ? ”
This was a staggerer. Davy was not prepared for
such a concrete example of the freedom of speech.
But one did not have to be consistent with Dora.
“ Of course not,” he admitted sulkily. "6 " Tomcat ''
isn't a holy word. I wouldn't mention such an animal
before a minister at all.”
“ But if you had to ? ” persisted Dora.
' I'd call it a Thomas pussy ,” said Davy.
6
“ I think ' gentleman cat ’ would be more polite,"
reflected Dora.
“ You thinking !” retorted Davy with withering
scorn .
Davy was not feeling comfortable, though he would

have died before he admitted it to Dora. Now that
the exhilaration of truant delights had died away, his
conscience was beginning to give him salutary twinges.
After all, perhaps it would have been better to have
gone to Sunday School and church. Mrs. Lynde
might be bossy ; but there was always a box of cookies
in her kitchen cupboard and she was not stingy. At
this inconvenient moment Davy remembered that when
he had torn his new school pants the week before, Mrs.
Lynde had mended them beautifully and never said a

word to Marilla about them.
But Davy's cup of iniquity was not yet full. He
was to discover that one sin demands another to cover
it. They had dinner with Mrs. Lynde that day, and
the first thing she asked Davy was,
“ Were all your class in Sunday School to -day ? "
“ Yes'm ,” said Davy with a gulp. “ All were there
'cept one. '
“ Did you say your Golden Text and catechism ? ”
“ Yes'm .”
“ Did you put your collection in ? ”
“ Yes'm .”
Was Mrs. Malcolm MacPherson in church ? ”
“ I don't know .” This, at least, was the truth ,
thought wretched Davy.
“ Was the Ladies' Aid announced for next
week ? ”
“ Yes’m ” - - quakingly .
“ Was prayer -meeting ? ”
“ I- I don't know ."
You should know. You should listen more at
tentively to the announcements. What was Mr. Har
vey's text ? ”
Davy took a frantic gulp of water and swallowed it
and the last protest of conscience together. He glibly
recited an old Golden Text learned several weeks ago.
Fortunately Mrs. Lynde now stopped questioning him ;
but Davy did not enjoy his dinner. He could only eat
one helping of pudding.
“ What's the matter with you ? ” demanded justly

astonished Mrs. Lynde. “ Are you sick ? ”
No," muttered Davy .
“ You look pale. You'd better keep out of the sun
this afternoon ,” admonished Mrs. Lynde .
Do you know how many lies you told Mrs.
Lynde ? " asked Dora reproachfully, as soon as they
were alone after dinner.
Davy, goaded to desperation, turned fiercely.
“ I don't know and I don't care,” he said. “You
just shut up, Dora Keith .”
Then poor Davy betook himself to a secluded re
treat behind the wood-pile to think over the way of
transgressors .
Green Gables was wrapped in darkness and silence
when Anne reached home. She lost no time going to
bed, for she was very tired and sleepy. There had
been several Avonlea jollifications the preceding week,
involving rather late hours. Anne's head was hardly
on her pillow before she was half asleep ; but just then
her door was softly opened and a pleading voice said,
• Anne. ”
Anne sat up drowsily.
“ Davy, is that you ? What is the matter ? "
A white-clad figure flung itself across the floor and
on to the bed.
Anne,” sobbed Davy, getting his arms about her
neck. “ I'm awful glad you're home. I couldn't go
>
to sleep till I'd told somebody. ”
“ Told somebody what ? ”
“ How mis'rubul I am .”
“ Why are you miserable, dear ? ”
' Cause I was so bad to-day, Anne. Oh, I was
awful bad — badder'n I've ever been yet.”
“ What did you do ? ”
Oh, I'm afraid to tell you . You'll never like me
again, Anne. I couldn't say my prayers to -night. I
couldn't tell God what I'd done. I was ' shamed to
have Him know ."
But He knew anyway, Davy.”
That's what Dora said. But I thought p'raps He
mightn't have noticed just at the time. Anyway, I'd
rather tell you first.”
What is it you did ? "
Out it all came in a rush.
“ I run away from Sunday School and went fish
ing with the Cottons and I told ever so many whop
-
pers to Mrs. Lynde — oh ! 'most half a dozen — and

and — I -— I said a swear word, Anne — a pretty near
-
swear word, anyhow — and I called God names.

There was a silence. Davy didn't know what to
make of it. Was Anne so shocked that she never
would speak to him again ?
“ Anne, what are you going to do to me? ” he
whispered.
Nothing, dear. You've been punished already, I
think.”
“ No, I haven't. Nothing's been done to me."
' You've been very unhappy ever since you did
wrong, haven't you ? ”
“ You bet !” said Davy emphatically.

“ That was your conscience punishing you, Davy.”
“ What's my conscience ? I want to know .”
“ It's something in you, Davy, that always tells you
when you are doing wrong and makes you unhappy if
you persist in doing it. Haven't you noticed that ? ”
* Yes, but I didn't know what it was. I wish I didn't
have it. I'd have lots more fun. Where is my con
science, Anne ? I want to know. Is it in my stomach ?
“ No, it's in your soul,” answered Anne, thankful
for the darkness, since gravity must be preserved in
serious matters .
“ I s'pose I can't get clear of it then ,” said Davy
with a sigh. Are you going to tell Marilla and Mrs.
Lynde on me, Anne ? ”
“ No, dear, I'm not going to tell any one. You are
sorry you were naughty, aren't you ? ”
* You bet ! ”
“ And you'll never be bad like that again .”
No, but — ” added Davy cautiously , “ I might
be bad some other way."
“ You won't say naughty words, or run away on
Sundays, or tell falsehoods to cover up your sins ? ”
“ No. It doesn't pay,” said Davy.
“ Well, Davy, just tell God you are sorry and ask
Him to forgive you ."
“ Have you forgive me, Anne? ”
“ Yes, dear.”
Then ,” said Davy joyously, “ II don't care much
whether God does or not."
“ Davy ! ”
“ Oh — I'll ask Him - I'll ask Him ," said Davy
-
quickly, scrambling off the bed, convinced by Anne's

tone that he must have said something dreadful. “ I
don't mind asking Him, Anne. — Please, God, I'm aw
ful sorry I behaved bad to-day and I'll try to be good
on Sundays always and please forgive me. — There
how, Anne.”
“ Well, now, run off to bed like aa good boy .”
“ All right. Say, I don't feel mis'rubul any more.
I feel fine. Good-night.”
Good-night.”
Anne slipped down on her pillows with a sigh of re
lief. Oh how sleepy — she was ! In another sec
ond
“ Anne !”
Davy was back again by her bed. Anne dragged
her eyes open .
“ What is it now, dear ? ” she asked, trying to keep
a note of impatience out of her voice.
66
Anne, have you ever noticed how Mr. Harrison
spits ? Do you s'pose, if I practise hard, I can learn to
spit just like him ? ”
Anne sat up.
Davy Keith ,” she said, “ go straight to your bed

and don't let me catch you out of it again to-night !
Go, now !”
Davy went, and stood not upon the order of his go
ing.
CHAPTER XIV
THE SUMMONS
ANNE was sitting with Ruby Gillis in the Gillis'

garden after the day had crept lingeringly through it
and was gone. It had been a warm, smoky summer
afternoon . The world was in a splendour of out
flowering. The idle valleys were full of hazes. The
woodways were pranked with shadows and the fields
with the purple of the asters.
Anne had given up a moonlight drive to the White
Sands beach that she might spend the evening with
Ruby. She had so spent many evenings that summer,
although she often wondered what good it did any one,
and sometimes went home deciding that she could not
go again .
Ruby grew paler as the summer waned ; the White
Sands school was given up — " her father thought it
better that she shouldn't teach till New Year's "- and
the fancy work she loved oftener and oftener fell from
hands grown too weary for it. But she was always
gay, always hopeful, always chattering and whispering
of her beaux, and their rivalries and despairs. It was
this that made Anne's visits hard for her. What had
once been silly or amusing was gruesome now ; it was
238
THE SUMMONS 139
death peering through a wilful mask of life. Yet

Ruby seemed to cling to her, and never let her go un
til she had promised to come again soon. Mrs. Lynde
grumbled about Anne's frequent visits, and declared
she would catch consumption ; even Marilla was dubi
ous .
“ Every time you go to see Ruby you come home

looking tired out,” she said.
“ It's so very sad and dreadful,” said Anne in a low
tone. Ruby doesn't seem to realize her condition in
the least. And yet I somehow feel she needs help –
craves it — and I want to give it to her and can't.
All the time I'm with her I feel as if I were watching
her struggle with an invisible foe — trying to push it
back with such feeble resistance as she has. That is
why I come home tired.''
But to-night Anne did not feel this so keenly. Ruby
was strangely quiet. She said not a word about par
ties and drives and dresses andfellows." She lay in
the hammock, with her untouched work beside her, and
a white shawl wrapped about her thin shoulders. Her
long yellow braids of hair — how Anne had envied
-
those beautiful braids in old schooldays ! — lay on

either side of her. She had taken the pins out — they
made her head ache, she said. The hectic flush was
gone for the time, leaving her pale and childlike.
The moon rose in the silvery sky, empearling the
clouds around her. Below, the pond shimmered in its
hazy radiance. Just beyond the Gillis homestead was
the church . with the old graveyard beside it. The
moonlight shone on the white stones, bringing them out

in clear- cut relief against the dark trees behind.
“ How strange the graveyard looks by moonlight !”
said Ruby suddenly. “ How ghostly !” she shuddered.
Anne, it won't be long now before I'll be lying over
there. You and Diana and all the rest will be going
about, full of life — and I'll be there — in the old
-
graveyard — dead ! ”
The surprise of it bewildered Anne. For aa few mo
ments she could not speak.
“ You know it's so, don't you ? ” said Ruby insist
ently.
“ Yes, I know ," answered Anne in a low tone.
“ Dear Ruby, I know .”
Everybody knows it,” said Ruby bitterly. “ I
know it — I've known it all summer, though I wouldn't
give in. And, oh, Anne she reached out and
.
caught Anne's hand pleadingly, impulsively — “ I don't

want to die. I'm afraid to die .”
Why should you be afraid, Ruby ? ” asked Anne
quietly.
Because — because — oh, I'm not afraid but that
-
I'll go to heaven, Anne. I'm a church member. But

- it'll be all so different. I think — and think -
and I get so frightened — and and — homesick.
Heaven must be very beautiful, of course, the Bible
says so — but, Anne, it won't be what I've been used
to."
Through Anne's mind drifted an intrusive recollec
tion of a funny story she had heard Philippa Gordon
THE SUMMONS 141
tell — the story of some old man who had said very
much the same thing about the world to come. It had
sounded funny then she remembered how she and
Priscilla had laughed over it. But it did not seem in
the least humorous now, coming from Ruby's pale,
trembling lips. It was sad, tragic — and true !
Heaven could not be what Ruby had been used to.
There had been nothing in her gay, frivolous life, her
shallow ideals and aspirations, to fit her for that great
change, or make the life to come seem to her anything
but alien and unreal and undesirable. Anne wondered
helplessly what she could say that would help her.
Could she say anything ? “ I think, Ruby ,” she be
gan hesitatingly for it was difficult for Anne to
speak to any one of the deepest thoughts of her heart,
or the new ideas that had vaguely begun to shape them
selves in her mind, concerning the great mysteries of
life here and hereafter, superseding her old childish
conceptions, and it was hardest of all to speak of them
to such as Ruby Gillis — “ I think, perhaps, we have
very mistaken ideas about heaven — what it is and
what it holds for us . I don't think it can be so very
different from life here as most people seem to think.
I believe we'll just go on living, a good deal as we live
here — and be ourselves just the same - only it will
-
be easier to be good and to follow the highest. All

the hindrances and perplexities will be taken away,, and
we shall see clearly. Don't be afraid, Ruby.”
“ I can't help it,” said Ruby pitifully. “ Even if
what you say about heaven is true — and you can't be
sure -
it may be only that imagination of yours — it

won't be just the same. It can't be. I want to go on
living here. I'm so young, Anne. I haven't had my
life. I've fought so hard to live -- and it isn't any use
I have to die — and leave everything I care for."
Anne sat in a pain that was almost intolerable. She
could not tell comforting falsehoods ; and all that Ruby
said was so horribly true. She was leaving every
thing she cared for. She had laid up her treasures on
earth only ; she had lived solely for the little things of
life, — the things that pass, - forgetting the great
things that go onward into eternity, bridging the gulf
between the two lives and making of death a mere
passing from one dwelling to the other from twi
.
light to unclouded day. God would take care of her

there – Anne believed — she would learn but now .
it was no wonder her soul clung, in blind helplessness,

to the only things she knew and loved.
Ruby raised herself on her arm and lifted up her
bright, beautiful blue eyes to the moonlit skies.
“ I want to live,” she said, in аa trembling voice. “ I
want to live like other girls. I — I want to be mar
ried, Anne — and — and — have little children .
-
You
know I always loved babies, Anne. I couldn't say this
to any one but you. I know you understand. And
- he — he loves me and I love him,
then poor Herb —
Anne . The others meant nothing to me, but he does
- and if I could live I would be his wife and be so
nappy. Oh, Anne , it's hard ."
Ruby sank back on her pillows and sobbed convul
THE SUMMONS 143
sively. Anne pressed her hand in an agony of sym

pathy — silent sympathy, which perhaps helped Ruby
-
more than broken, imperfect words could have done ;

for presently she grew calmer and her sobs ceased..
“ I'm glad I've told you this, Anne, ” she whispered.
“ It has helped me just to say it all out. I've wanted
to all summer every time you came I wanted to talk
it over with you — but I couldn't. It seemed as if it
would make death so sure if I said I was going to die,
or if any one else said it or hinted it. I wouldn't say
it, or even think it. In the daytime, when people were
around me and everything was cheerful, it wasn't so
hard to keep from thinking of it. But in the night,
when I couldn't sleep — it was so dreadful, Anne. I
couldn't get away from it then. Death just came and
stared me in the face, until I got so frightened I could
have screamed .”
“But you won't be frightened any more, Ruby, will
you ? You'll be brave, and believe that all is gcing
to be well with you."
" I'll try. I'll think over what you have said, and
try to believe it. And you'll come up as often as you
can , won't you, Anne ? ”
“ Yes, dear.”
“ It — it won't be very long now, Anne. Ii feel sure
-
of that. And I'd rather have you than any one else.
I always liked you best of all the girls I went to school
with. You were never jealous , or mean, like some of
them were . Poor Em White was up to see me yester
day. You remember Em and I were such chum for
three years when we went to school ? And then we

quarrelled the time of the school concert. We've
never spoken to each other since. Wasn't it silly ;
Anything like that seems silly now. But Em and I
made up the old quarrel yesterday. She said she'd
have spoken years ago, only she thought I wouldn't.
And I never spoke to her because I was sure she
wouldn't speak to me. Isn't it strange how people mis
understand each other, Anne ? ”
“ Most of the trouble in life comes from misunder
standing, I think,” said Anne. “ I must go now,
Ruby. It's getting late and you shouldn't be out in
the damp.”
“ You'll come up soon again ."
Yes, very soon . And if ther
e's anything I can do
to help you I'll be so glad ."
“ I know. You have helped me already. Nothing
seems quite so dreadful now. Good-night, Anne. ”
Good -night, dear. ”
Anne walked home very slowly in the moonlight.
The evening had changed something for her. Life
held a different meaning, a deeper purpose. On the
surface it would go on just the same ; but the deeps had
been stirred. It must not be with her as with poor
butterfly Ruby. When she came to the end of one life
it must not be to face the next with the shrinking ter
ror of something wholly different something for
.
which accustomed thought and ideal and aspiration had

unfitted her. The little things of life, sweet and ex
cellent in their place, must not be the things lived for ;
THE SUMMONS 145
the highest must be sought and followed ; the life of

heaven must be begun here on earth.
That good -night in the garden was for all time.
Anne never saw Ruby in life again. The next night
the A.V.I.S. gave a farewell party to Jane Andrews
before her departure for the West. And, while light
feet danced and bright eyes laughed and merry tongues
chattered, there came a summons to a soul in Avonlea
that might not be disregarded or evaded. The next
morning the word went from house to house that Ruby
Gillis was dead. She had died in her sleep, painlessly
and calmly, and on her face was a smile - as if, after
all, death had come as a kindly friend to lead her over
the threshold, instead of the grisly phantom she had
dreaded.
Mrs. Rachel Lynde said emphatically after the
funeral that Ruby Gillis was the handsomest corpse she
ever laid eyes on. Her loveliness, as she lay, white
clad, among the delicate flowers that Anne had placed
about her, was remembered and talked of for years in
Avonlea. Ruby had always been beautiful ; but her
beauty had been of the earth, earthy ; it had had a
certain insolent quality in it, as if it flaunted itself in
the beholder's eye ; spirit had never shone through it,
intellect had never refined it. But death had touched
it and consecrated it, bringing out delicate modellings
and purity of outline never seen before — doing what
life and love and great sorrow and deep womanhood
joys might have done for Ruby. Anne, looking down
through a mist of tears, at her old playfellow , thought
she saw the face God had meant Ruby to have, and
remembered it so always.
Mrs. Gillis called Anne aside into a vacant room be
fore the funeral procession left the house, and gave
her a small packet.
“ I want you to have this ,” she sobbed. “ Ruby
would have liked you to have it. It's the embroidered
centerpiece she was working at. It isn't quite finished
the needle is sticking in it just where her poor little
fingers put it the last time she laid it down, the after
noon before she died .”
“ There's always a piece of unfinished work left,”
said Mrs. Lynde, with tears in her eyes. “ But I sup
pose there's always some one to finish it.”
“ How difficult it is to realize that one we have al
ways known can really be dead ,” said Anne, as she and
Diana walked home. Ruby is the first of our school
mates to go . One by one, sooner or later, all the rest
of us must follow .''
Yes, I suppose so , ” said Diana uncomfortably.
She did not want to talk of that. She would have pre
ferred to have discussed the details of the funeral
the splendid white velvet casket Mr. Gillis had insisted
on having for Ruby — “ the Gillises must always make
>
a splurge, even at funerals," quoth Mrs. Rachel Lynde

- Herb Spencer's sad face, the uncontrolled, hysteric
grief of one of Ruby's sisters — but Anne would not
-
talk of these things. She seemed wrapped in a reverie

in which Diana felt lonesomely that she had neither
lot nor part.
THE SUMMONS 147
“Ruby Gillis was a great girl to laugh,” said Davy

suddenly. “ Will she laugh as much in heaven as she
did in Avonlea, Anne ? I want to know .”
Yes, I think she will, ” said Anne.
Oh, Anne," protested Diana, with a rather shocked
smile.
“Well, why not, Diana ? ” asked Anne seriously.
“ Do you think we'll never laugh in heaven ? ”
“ Oh — I1 — I don't know ," floundered Diana. “ It
doesn't seem just right, somehow . You know it's
rather dreadful to laugh in church . ”
“ But heaven won't be like church — all the time, ”
said Anne.
“ I hope it ain't,” said Davy emphatically . “ If it is
I don't want to go. Church is awful dull. Anyway,
I don't mean to go for ever so long. I mean to live to
be a hundred years old, like Mr. Thomas Blewett of
White Sands. He says he's lived so long 'cause he
always smoked tobacco and it killed all the germs.
Can I smoke tobacco pretty soon, Anne? ”
“ No, Davy, I hope you'll never use tobacco ,” said
Anne absently.
“ What'll you feel like if the germs kill me then ?”
demanded Davy .
CHAPTER XV
A DREAM TURNED UPSIDE DOWN
“ Just one more week and we go back to Redmond,"

said Anne. She was happy at the thought of return
ing to work, classes and Redmond friends. Pleasing
visions were also being woven around Patty's Place.
There was a warm pleasant sense of home in the
thought of it, even though she had never lived there.
But the summer had been a very happy one, too —
a time of glad living with summer suns and skies, a
time of keen delight in wholesome things ; a time of
renewing and deepening of old friendships ; a time in
which she had learned to live more nobly, to work more
patiently, to play more heartily.
All life lessons are not learned at college," she
thought. “· Life teaches them everywhere. "
But alas, the final week of that pleasant vacation
was spoiled for Anne, by one of those impish happen
ings which are like a dream turned upside down.
Been writing any more stories lately ? ” inquired
Mr. Harrison genially one evening when Anne was
taking tea with him and Mrs. Harrison.
66
No,” answered Anne, rather crisply.
Well, no offence meant. Mrs. Hiram Sloane told
me the other day that a big envelope addressed to the
148
A DREAM TURNED UPSIDE DOWN 149
Rollings Reliable Baking Powder Company of Mon

treal had been dropped into the post office box a month
ago, and she suspicioned that somebody was trying for
the prize they'd offered for the best story that intro
duced the name of their baking powder. She said it
wasn't addressed in your writing, but I thought maybe
it was you.”
“ Indeed, no ! I saw the prize offer, but I'd never
dream of competing for it. I think it would be per
fectly disgraceful to write a story to advertise a baking
powder. It would be almost as bad as Judson Parker's
patent medicine fence.”
So spake Anne loftily, little dreaming of the valley
of humiliation awaiting her. That very evening
Diana popped into the porch gable, bright-eyed and
rosy cheeked, carrying aa letter.
“ Oh, Anne, here's a letter for you. I was at the
office, so I thought I'd bring it along. Do open it
quick. If it is what I believe it is I shall just be wild
with delight.”
Anne, puzzled, opened the letter and glanced over the
type-written contents.
“ Miss Anne Shirley,

“ Green Gables,
“ Avonlea , P.E. Island.
DEAR MADAM : We have much pleasure in in
forming you that your charming story ' Averils
Atonement ' has won the prize of twenty -five dollars
offered in our recent competition . We enclose the
check herewith. We are arranging for the publica

tion of the story in several prominent Canadian news
papers, and we also intend to have it printed in pam
phlet form for distribution among our patrons.
Thanking you for the interest you have shown in our
enterprise, We remain ,
“ Yours very truly,
“ THE ROLLINGS RELIABLE BAKING POWDER Co."
“ I don't understand ,” said Anne, blankly.

Diana clapped her hands.
Oh, I knew it would win the prize — I was sure of
it. I sent your story into the competition , Anne.”
“ Diana — Barry !”
.
“ Yes, I did ,” said Diana gleefully, perching herself

on the bed. When I saw the offer I thought of your
story in a minute, and at first I thought I'd ask you to
send it in. But then I was afraid you wouldn't — you
had so little faith left in it. So I just decided I'd send
the copy you gave me, and say nothing about it. Then,
if it didn't win the prize, you'd never know and you
wouldn't feel badly over it, because the stories that
failed were not to be returned, and if it did you'd have
such a delightful surprise.”
Diana was not the most discerning of mortals, but
just at this moment it struck her that Anne was not
looking exactly over-joyed. The surprise was there,
beyond doubt -
but where was the delight ?
“ Why, Anne, you don't seem a bit pleased ! " she
exclaimed.
Anne instantly manufactured a smile and put it on.

“ Of course I couldn't be anything but pleased over
your unselfish wish to give me pleasure,” she said
slowly. But you
know —- I'm so amazed —— I can't
realize it — and I don't understand. There wasn't a
-
word in my story about — about

-
Anne choked a
bak powder."
little over the word — “ baking
-
Oh, I put that in ,” said Diana, reassured. “ It was

as easy as wink and of course my experience in our
old Story Club helped me. You know the scene where
Averil makes the cake ? Well, I just stated that she
used the Rollings Reliable in it, and that was why it
turned out so well ; and then, in the last paragraph,
where Perceval clasps Averil in his arms and says,
Sweetheart, the beautiful coming years will bring us
the fulfilment of our home of dreams,' I added, “ in
which we will never use any baking powder except
Rollings Reliable.' '
Oh,” gasped poor Anne, as if some one had dashed
cold water on her.
>
And you've won the twenty - five dollars , " con
tinued Diana jubilantly . Why, I heard Priscilla say
once that the Canadian Woman only pays five dollars
for a story ! ”
Anne held out the hateful pink slip in shaking
fingers.
“ I can't take it — it's yours by right, Diana. You
sent the story in and made the alterations. I — I
would certainly never have sent it. So you must take
the check .”
“ I'd like to see myself, ” said Diana scornfully.

Why, what I did wasn't any trouble. The honour of
being a friend of the prize-winner is enough for me.
Well, I must go. I should have gone straight home
from the post office for we have company. But I
simply had to come and hear the news. I'm so glad
for your sake, Anne. ”
Anne suddenly bent forward, put her arms about
Diana, and kissed her cheek.
“ I think you are the sweetest and truest friend in
the world, Diana , ” she said, with a little tremble in her
voice, “ and I assure you I appreciate the motive of
>
what you've done.”
Diana, pleased and embarrassed, got herself away,
and poor Anne, after flinging the innocent check into
her bureau drawer as if it were blood-money, cast her
self on her bed and wept tears of shame and outraged
sensibility. Oh, she could never live this down —
never !
Gilbert arrived at dusk, brimming over with con
gratulations, for he had called at Orchard Slope and
heard the news . But his congratulations died on his
lips at sight of Anne's face.
Why, Anne, what is the matter ? I expected to
find you radiant over winning Rollings Reliable prize.
Good for you ! ”
“ Oh, Gilbert, not you,” implored Anne, in an et-tu
Brute tone. “ I thought you would understand
Can't you see how awful it is ? ”
“ I must confess I can't. What is wrong ? "
“ Everything,” moaned Anne. “ I feel as if I were

disgraced forever. What do you think a mother would
feel like if she found her child tattooed over with a
baking powder advertisement ? I feel just the same.
I loved my poor little story, and I wrote it out of the
best that was in me. And it is sacrilege to have it de
graded to the level of a baking powder advertisement.
Don't you remember what Professor Hamilton used
to tell us in the literature class at Queen's ? He said
we were never to write a word for a low or unworthy
motive, but always to cling to the very highest ideals.
What will he think when he hears I've written a story
to advertise Rollings Reliable ? And, oh, when it gets
out at Redmond ! Think how I'll be teased and
laughed at ! ”
That you won't, ” said Gilbert, wondering uneasily
if it were that confounded Junior's opinion in particu
66
lar over which Anne was worried. The Reds will
think just as II thought — that you, being like nine out
-
of ten of us, not over-burdened with worldly wealth ,

had taken this way of earning an honest penny to help
yourself through the year. I don't see that there's any
thing low or unworthy about that, or anything ridicu
lous either. One would rather write masterpieces of
literature no doubt — but meanwhile board and tuition
fees have to be paid .”
This common-sense, matter-of-fact view of the case
cheered Anne a little. At least it removed her dread
of being laughed at, though the deeper hurt of an out
raged ideal remained.
CHAPTER XVI
ADJUSTED RELATIONSHIPS
It's the homiest spot I ever saw it's homier than

home,” avowed Philippa Gordon, looking about her
with delighted eyes. They were all assembled at twi
light in the big living-room at Patty's Place Anne
and Priscilla, Phil and Stella, Aunt Jamesina, Rusty,
Joseph, the Sarah-Cat, and Gog and Magog. The
firelight shadows were dancing over the walls ; the cats
were purring ; and a huge bowi of hot-house chrysan
themums, sent to Phil by one of the victims, shone
through the golden gloom like creamy moons.
It was three weeks since they had considered them
selves settled, and already all believed the experiment
would be a success . The first fortnight after their re
turn had been a pleasantly exciting one ; they had been
busy setting up their household gods, organizing their
little establishment, and adjusting different opinions.
Anne was not over -sorry to leave Avonlea when the
time came to return to college. The last few days of
her vacation had not been pleasant. Her prize story
had been published in the Island papers ; and Mr. Wil
liam Blair had, upon the counter of his store, a huge
pile of pink, green and yellow pamphlets, containing
154
ADJUSTED RELATIONSHIPS 155
it, one of which he gave to every customer. He sent

a complimentary bundle to Anne, who promptly
dropped them all in the kitchen stove. Her humilia
tion was the consequence of her own ideals only, for
Avonlea folks thought it quite splendid that she should
have won the prize. Her many friends regarded her
with honest admiration ; her few foes with scornful
envy. Josie Pye said she believed Anne Shirley had
just copied the story ; she was sure she remembered
reading it in a paper years before. The Sloanes, who
had found out or guessed that Charlie had been
“ turned down,” said they didn't think it was much to
be proud of ; almost any one could have done it, if she
tried. Aunt Atossa told Anne she was very sorry to
hear she had taken to writing novels ; nobody born and
bred in Avonlea would do it ; that was what came of
adopting orphans from goodness knew where, with
goodness knew what kind of parents. Even Mrs.
Rachel Lynde was darkly dubious about the propriety
of writing fiction, though she was almost reconciled
to it by that twenty - five dollar check.
“ It is perfectly amazing, the price they pay for such
lies, that's what,” she said, half-proudly, half-severely.
All things considered, it was a relief when going
away time came. And it was very jolly to be back
at Redmond, a wise, experienced Soph with hosts of
friends to greet on the merry opening day. Pris and
Stella and Gilbert were there, Charlie Sloane, looking
more important than ever Sophomore looked before,
Phil, with the Alec-and-Alonzo question still unsettled,
and Moody Spurgeon MacPherson. Moody Spurgeon

had been teaching school ever since leaving Queen's,
but his mother had concluded it was high time he gave
it up and turned his attention to learning how to be a
minister. Poor Moody Spurgeon fell on hard luck at
the very beginning of his college career. Half a dozen
ruthless Sophs, who were among his fellow-boarders,
swooped down upon him one night and shaved half of
his head. In this guise the luckless Moody Spurgeon
had to go about until his hair grew again. He told
Anne bitterly that there were times when he had his
doubts as to whether he was really called to be a
minister.
Aunt Jamesina did not come until the girls had
Patty's Place ready for her. Miss Patty had sent the
key to Anne, with a letter in which she said Gog and
Magog were packed in a box under the spare-room bed,
but might be taken out when wanted ; in a postscript
she added that she hoped the girls would be careful
about putting up pictures. The living room had been
newly papered five years before and she and Miss Maria
did not want any more holes made in that new paper
than was absolutely necessary. For the rest she trusted
everything to Anne.
How those girls enjoyed putting their nest in order !
As Phil said, it was almost as good as getting married.
You had the fun of home-making without the bother
of a husband . All brought something with them to
adorn or make comfortable the little house. Pris and
Phil and Stella had nick-nacks and pictures galore.
which latter they proceeded to hang according to taste,

in reckless disregard of Miss Patty's new paper.
“ We'll putty the holes up when we leave, dear
>
she'll never know , ” they said to protesting Anne.
Diana had given Anne a pine needle cushion and
Miss Ada had given both her and Priscilla a fearfully
and wonderfully embroidered one. Marilla had sent
a big box of preserves, and darkly hinted at a hamper
for Thanksgiving, and Mrs. Lynde gave Anne a patch
work quilt and loaned her five more.
“ You take them ,” she said authoritatively. “ • They
might as well be in use as packed away in that trunk
in the garret for moths to gnaw .”
No moths would ever have ventured near those
quilts, for they reeked of moth-balls to such an extent
that they had to be hung in the orchard of Patty's Place
a full fortnight before they could be endured indoors.
Verily, aristocratic Spofford Avenue had rarely beheld
such a display. The gruff old millionaire who lived
next door ” came over and wanted to buy the gor
‫وو‬
geous red and yellow " tulip-pattern one which Mrs.
Rachel had given Anne. He said his mother used to
make quilts like that, and by Jove, he wanted one to
remind him of her. Anne would not sell it, much to
his disappointment, but she wrote all about it to Mrs.
Lynde. That highly - gratified lady sent word back
that she had one just like it to spare, so the tobacco
king got his quilt after all, and insisted on having it
spread on his bed, to the disgust of his fashionable
wife
Mrs. Lynde’s quilts served a very useful purpose that

winter.. Patty's Place for all its many virtues, had its
faults also. It was really a rather cold house ; and
when the frosty nights came the girls were very glad
to snuggle down under Mrs. Lynde's quilts, and hoped
that the loan of them might be accounted unto her for
righteousness. Anne had the blue room she had
coveted at sight. Priscilla and Stella had the large
one.
Phil was blissfully content with the little one
over the kitchen ; and Aunt Jamesina was to have the
down -stairs one off the living-room . Rusty at first
slept on the doorstep.
Anne, walking home from Redmond a few days
after her return, became aware that the people that she
met surveyed her with a covert, indulgent smile. Anne
wondered uneasily what was the matter with her.
Was her hat crooked ? Was her belt loose ? Craning
her head to investigate, Anne, for the first time, saw
Rusty.
Trotting along behind her, close to her heels, was
quite the most forlorn specimen of the cat-tribe she
had ever beheld. The animal was well past kittenhood,
lank , thin, disreputable-looking. Pieces of both ears
were lacking, one eye was temporarily out of repair,
and one jowl ludicrously swollen. As for colour, if
a once black cat had been well and thoroughly singed
the result would have resembled the hue of this waif's
tnin, draggled, unsightly fur.
Anne “ shooed ,” but the cat would not “ shoo . ” As
long as she stood he sat back on his haunches and gazed
at her reproach fully out of his one good eye ; when she
resumed her walk he followed. Anne resigned her
self to his company until she reached the gate of
Patty's Place, which she coldly shut in his face, fondly
supposing she had seen the last of him. But when,
fifteen minutes later, Phil opened the door, there sat
the rusty-brown cat on the step. More, he promptly
darted in and sprang upon Anne's lap with a half
pleading, half-triumphant “ miaow .”
Anne,” said Stella severely, “ do you own that
animal ? ”
“ No, I do not,” protested disgusted Anne. " The
creature followed me home from somewhere. I could
n't get rid of him. Ugh, get down. I like decent
cats reasonably well ; but I don't like beasties of your
complexion.”
Pussy, however, refused to get down. He coolly
curled up in Anne's lap and began to purr.
“ He has evidently adopted you,” laughed Priscilla.
“ I won't be adopted,” said Anne stubbornly.
“ The poor creature is starving,” said Phil pityingly.
“ Why, his bones are almost coming through his
skin .”
“ Well, I'll give him a square meal and then he must
return to whence he came,” said Anne resolutely.
The cat was fed and put out. In the morning he
was still on the doorstep. On the doorstep he con
tinued to sit, bolting in whenever the door was opened.
No coolness of welcome had the least effect on him ; of
nobody save Anne did he take the least notice. Out
of compassion the girls fed him ; but when a week had

passed they decided that something must be done.
The cat's appearance had improved. His eye and
cheek had resumed their normal appearance ; he was
not quite so thin ; and he had been seen washing his
face .
“ But for all that we can't keep him ,” said Stella.

Aunt Jimsie is coming next week and she will bring
the Sarah -cat with her. We can't keep two cats ; and
if we did this Rusty Coat would fight all the time with
the Sarah-cat. He's a fighter by nature. He had a
pitched battle last evening with the tobacco -king's cat
and routed him, horse, foot and artillery.”
“ We must get rid of him ," agreed Anne, looking
darkly at the subject of their discussion, who was purr
ing on the hearth-rug with an air of lamb-like meek
ness . But the question is -
how ? How can four
unprotected females get rid of a cat who won't be got
rid of ? ”
" We must chloroform him , " said Phil briskly.
That is the most humane way.”
' Who of us knows anything about chloroforming a
cat? ” demanded Anne gloomily.
“ I do, honey. It's one of my few sadly few
useful accomplishments. I've disposed of several at
home. You take the cat in the morning and give him a
good breakfast. Then you take an old burlap bag -
-
there's one in the back porch — put the cat on it and

turn over him a wooden box. Then take a two-ounce
bottle of chloroform, uncork it, and slip it under the
edge of the box. Put a heavy weight on top of the

box and leave it till evening. The cat will be dead,
curled up peacefully as if he were asleep. No pain —
no struggle.”
>
It sounds easy,” said Anne dubiously.

“ It is easy. Just leave it to me. I'll see to it,"
said Phil reassuringly .
Accordingly the chloroform was procured, and the
next morning Rusty was lured to his doom. He ate
his breakfast, licked his chops, and climbed into Anne's
lap. Anne's heart misgave her. This poor creature
loved her trusted her. How could she be a party
to his destruction ?
“ Here, take him ," she said hastily to Phil. “ II feel
like a murderess . '
" He won't suffer, you know ," comforted Phil, but
Anne had fled .
The fatal deed was done in the back porch. Nobody
went near it that day. But at dusk Phil declared that
Rusty must be buried.
Pris and Stella must dig his grave in the orchard."
decreed Phil, " and Anne must come with me to lift the
box off. That's the part I always hate.”
The two conspirators tip-toed reluctantly to the back
porch.. Phil gingerly lifted the stone she had put on
the box. Suddenly, faint but distinct, sounded an un
mistakable mew under the box .
“ He he isn't dead ,” gasped Anne, sitting blankly
down on the kitchen door-step.
“ He must be,” said Phil incredulously.
Another tiny mew proved that he wasn't. The two

girls stared at each other.
What will we do ? ” questioned Anne.
“ Why in the world don't you come?” demanded
Stella, appearing in the doorway. “ We've got the
6
grave ready. ' What, silent still and silent all?!" she
quoted teasingly.
666
Oh, no, the voices of the dead
Sound like the distant torrent's fall ,' »
promptly counter-quoted Anne, pointing solemnly to
the box.
A burst of laughter broke the tension.
“ We must leave him here till morning," said Phil,
replacing the stone. “ He hasn't mewed for five
minutes. Perhaps the mews we heard were his dying
groan. Or perhaps we merely imagined them, under
the strain of our guilty consciences.”
But, when the box was lifted in the m morning, Rusty
bounded at one gay leap to Anne's shoulder where he
began to lick her face affectionately. Never was there
a cat more decidedly alive.
“ Here's .a knot hole in the box ," groaned Phil. “ I
never saw it. That's why he didn't die. Now, we've
got to do it all over again .”
“ No, we haven't,” declared Anne suddenly.
“ Rusty isn't going to be killed again. He's my cat
and you've just got to make the best of it. ”
“ Oh, well, if you'll settle with Aunt Jimsie and the
Sarah- cat,” said Stella, with the air of one washing
her hands of the whole affair.
From that time Rusty was one of the family. He

slept o' nights on the scrubbing cushion in the back
porch and lived on the fat of the land. By the time
Aunt Jamesina came he was plump and glossy and
tolerably respectable. But, like Kipling's cat, he
“ walked by himself.” His paw was against every cat,
and every cat's paw against him. One by one he
vanquished the aristocratic felines of Spofford Avenue.
As for human beings, he loved Anne and Anne alone.
Nobody else even dared stroke him. An angry spit
and something that sounded much like very improper
language greeted any one who did.
The airs that cat puts on are perfectly intolerable, "
declared Stella.
Him was a nice old pussens, him was,” vowed
Anne, cuddling her pet defiantly.
“ Well, I don't know how he and the Sarah-cat will
ever make out to live together,” said Stella pessimisti
cally. Cat-fights in the orchard o' nights are bad
enough. But cat-fights here in the living-room are
unthinkable.”
In due time Aunt Jamesina arrived. Anne and
Priscilla and Phil had awaited her advent rather dubi
ously ; but when Aunt Jamesina was enthroned in the
rocking chair before the open fire they figuratively
bowed down and worshipped her.
Aunt Jamesina was a tiny old woman with a little,
softly-triangular face, and large, soft blue eyes that
were alight with unquenchable youth, and as full of
hopes as a girl's. She had pink cheeks and snow-white
hair which she wore in quaint little puffs over her

ears .
“ It's a very old-fashioned way,” she said, knitting

ir.dustriously at something as dainty and pink as a sun
set cloud. But I am old-fashioned. My clothes
are, and it stands to reason my opinions are, too. I
don't say they're any the better of that, mind you. In
fact, I daresay they're a good deal the worse. But
they've worn nice and easy. New shoes are smarter
than old ones, but the old ones are more comfortable.
I'm old enough to indulge myself in the matter of
shoes and opinions. I mean to take it real easy here.
I know you expect me to look after you and keep you
proper, but I'm not going to do it. You're old enough
to know how to behave if you're ever going to be.
So, as far as I am concerned,” concluded Aunt Jame
sina, with a twinkle in her young eyes, “ you can all go
to destruction in your own way.”
Oh, will somebody separate those cats? " pleaded
Stella, shudderingly.
Aunt Jamesina had brought with her not only the
Sarah -cat but Joseph. Joseph, she explained, had be
longed to a dear friend of hers who had gone to live
in Vancouver.
“ She couldn't take Joseph with her so she begged
me to take him. I really couldn't refuse. He's a
beautiful cat —that is, his disposition is beautiful.
She called him Joseph because his coat is of many
colours."
It certainly was. Joseph, as the disgusted Stella
said, looked like a walking rag -bag. It was impossible

to say what his ground colour was. His legs were
white with black spots on them. His back was gray
with a huge patch of yellow on one side and a black
patch on the other. His tail was yellow with a gray
tip. One ear was black and one yellow . A black
patch over one eye gave him a fearfully rakish look.
In reality he was meek and inoffensive, of a sociable
disposition. In one respect, if in no other, Joseph
was like a lily of the field . He toiled not neither did
he spin or catch mice. Yet Solomon in all his glory
slept not on softer cushions, or feasted more fully on
fat things.
Joseph and the Sarah-cat arrived by express in sep
arate boxes. After they had been released and fed,
Joseph selected the cushion and corner which appealed
to him, and the Sarah-cat gravely sat her down before
the fire and proceeded to wash her face. She was a
large, sleek, gray - and -white cat, with an enormous dig
nity which was not at all impaired by any consciousness
of her plebeian origin. She had been given to Aunt
Jamesina by her washerwoman .
Her name was Sarah, so my husband always called
>
puss the Sarah -cat,” explained Aunt Jamesina. She
is eight years old, and a remarkable mouser. Don't
worry, Stella. The Sarah-cat never fights and Joseph
rarely.”
They'll have to fight here in self-defence,” said
Stella.
At this juncture Rusty arrived on the scene. He
bounded joyously half way across the room before he

saw the intruders. Then he stopped short ; his tail
expanded until it was as big as three tails. The fur on
his back rose up in a defiant arch ; Rusty lowered his
head, uttered a fearful shriek of hatred and defiance,
and launched himself at the Sarah-cat.
That stately animal had stopped washing her face
and was looking at him curiously. She met his on
slaught with one contemptuous sweep of her capable
paw. Rusty went rolling helplessly over on the rug ;
he picked himself up dazedly. What sort of a cat was
this who had boxed his ears ? He looked dubiously at
the Sarah-cat. Would he or would he not ? The
Sarah-cat deliberately turned her back on him and re
sumed her toilet operations. Rusty decided that he
would not. He never did. From that time on the
Sarah-cat ruled the roost. Rusty never again inter
fered with her.
But Joseph rashly sat up and yawned. Rusty, burn
ing to avenge his disgrace, swooped down upon him.
Joseph, pacific by nature, could fight upon occasion and
fight well. The result was a series of drawn battles.
Every day Rusty and Joseph fought at sight. Anne
took Rusty's part and detested Joseph. Stella was in
despair. But Aunt Jamesina only laughed.
“ Let them fight it out,” she said tolerantly.
* They'll make friends after a bit. Joseph needs some
exercise — he was getting too fat. And Rusty has to
-
learn he isn't the only cat in the world .”

Eventually Joseph and Rusty accepted the situation
and from sworn enemies became sworn friends. They

slept on the same cushion with their paws about each
other, and gravely washed each other's faces.
“ We've all got used to each other, ” said Phil.
“ And I've learned how to wash dishes and sweep a
>
floor.”
" But you needn't try to make us believe you can
chloroform a cat,” laughed Anne.
“ It was all the fault of the knot-hole,” protested
Phil.
“ It was a good thing the knot-hole was there,” said
Aunt Jamesina rather severely. Kittens have to be
drowned, I admit, or the world would be over-run.
But no decent, grown-up cat should be done to death
unless he sucks eggs.”
You wouldn't have thought Rusty very decent if
you'd seen him when he came here,” said Stella. “ He
positively looked like the Old Nick . ”
“ I don't believe Old Nick can be so very ugly ,” said
Aunt Jamesina reflectively . He wouldn't do so much
harm if he was. I always think of him as a rather
handsome gentleman .”
CHAPTER XVII
A LETTER FROM DAVY
“ It's beginning to snow, girls,” said Phil, coming in

me November evening, “ and there are the loveliest
little stars and crosses all over the garden walk. I
never noticed before what exquisite things snowflakes
really are. One has time to notice things like that in
the simple life. Bless you all for permitting me to
live it. It's really delightful to feel worried because
butter has gone up five cents a pound.”
“ Has it ? " demanded Stella, who kept the house
hold accounts.
It has — and here's your butter. I'm getting
quite expert at marketing. It's better fun than flirt
ing,” concluded Phil gravely.
Everything is going up scandalously,” sighed
Stella.
“ Never niind. Thank goodness air and salvation
are still free,” said Aunt Jamesina.
“ And so is laughter,” added Anne. “ There's no
tax on it yet and that is well , because you're all going
to laugh presently . I'm going to read you Davy's
letter. His spelling has improved immensely this past
year, though he is not strong on apostrophes , and he
certainly possesses the gift of writing an interesting
168
.
A LETTER FROM DAVY 169
letter. Listen and laugh, before we settle down to the

>
evening's study-grind.”
“ Dear Anne,” ran Davy's letter, “ I take my pen to
tell you that we are all pretty well and hope this will
find you the same. It's snowing some to-day and Ma
rilla says the old woman in the sky is shaking her
feather beds. Is the old woman in the sky God's wife,
Anne ? I want to know.
Mrs. Lynde has been real sick but she is better now.
She fell down the cellar stairs last week. When she
fell she grabbed hold of the shelf with all the milk
pails and stewpans on it, and it gave way and went
down with her and made a splendid crash. Marilla
thought it was an earthquake at first. One of the
stewpans was all dinged up and Mrs. Lynde straned
her ribs. The doctor come and give her medicine to
rub on her ribs but she didn't understand him and took
it all inside instead . The doctor said it was a wonder
it dident kill her but it dident and it cured her ribs and
Mrs. Lynde says doctors dont know much anyhow.
But we couldent fix up the stewpan. Marilla had to
throw it out. Thanksgiving was last week. There
was no school and we had a great dinner. I et mince
pie and rost turkey and frut cake and donuts and
cheese and jam and choklut cake. Marilla said Id die
but I dident. Dora had earake after it, only it wasent
in her ears it was in her stummick . I dident have
earake anywhere.
Our new teacher is a man. He does things for
jokes. Last week he made all us third-class boys write
a composishun on what kind of aa wife we'd like to have

and the girls what kind of a husband. He laughed fit
to kill when he read them . This was mine. I thought
youd like to see it.
“ « The kind of a wife Id like to Have.
She must have good manners and get my meals on
time and do what I tell her and always be very polite to
ine. She must be fifteen years old. She must be good
to the poor and keep her house tidy and be good tem
pered and go to church reglarly. She must be very
handsome and have curly hair. If I get a wife that
is just what I like Ill be an awful good husband to
her. I think a woman ought to be awful good to her
husband. Some poor women havent any husbands.
THE END .
“ I was at Mrs. Isaac Wrights funeral at White
Sands last week. The husband of the corpse felt real
sorry. Mrs. Lynde says Mrs. Wrights grandfather
stole a sheep but Marilla says we mustent speak ill of
the dead. Why mustent we, Anne ? I want to know .
It's pretty safe, ain't it ?
Mrs. Lynde was awful mad the other day because
I asked her if she was alive in Noah's time. I dident
mean to hurt her feelings. I just wanted to know.
Was she, Anne ?
“ Mr. Harrison wanted to get rid of his dog. So he
hunged him once but he come to life and scooted for
the barn while Mr. Harrison was digging the grave, so
he hunged him again and he stayed dead that time.
Mr. Harrison has a new man working for him. He's
A LETTER FROM DAVY 171
awful okward. Mr. Harrison says he is left handed

in both his feet. Mr. Barry's hired man is lazy. Mrs.
Barry says that but Mr. Barry says he aint lazy exactly
only he thinks it easier to pray for things than to work
for them.
Mrs. Harmon Andrews prize pig that she talked so
much of died in a fit. Mrs. Lynde says it was a judg.
ment on her for pride. But I think it was hard on the
pig. Milty Boulter has been sick. The doctor gave
him medecine and it tasted horrid . I offered to take
it for him for a quarter but the Boulters are so mean.
Milty says he'd rather take it himself and save his
money. I asked Mrs. Boulter how a person would go
about catching a man and she got awful mad and said
she dident know, shed never chased men.
“ The A.V.I.S. is going to paint the hall again.
They're tired of having it blue.
The new minister was here to tea last night. He
took three pieces of pie. If I did that Mrs. Lynde
would call me piggy. And he et fast and took big
bites and Marilla is always telling me not to do that.
Why can ministers do what boys can't ? I want to
know .
“ I havent any more news. Here are six kisses.
XXXXXX . Dora sends one. Heres hers . X.
“Your loving friend
• DAVID KEITH
“ P. S. Anne, who was the devils father ? I want
to know .”
CHAPTER XVIII
MISS JOSEPHINE REMEMBERS THE ANNE-GIRL
WHEN Christmas holidays came the girls of Patty's

Place scattered to their respective homes, but Aunt
Jamesina elected to stay where she was.
“ I couldn't go to any of the places I've been invited
and take those three cats," she said. “ And I'm not
going to leave the poor creatures here alone for nearly
three weeks. If we had any decent neighbours who
would feed them I might, but there's nothing except
millionaires on this street. So I'll stay here and keep
Patty's Place warm for you."
Anne went home with the usual joyous anticipations
which were not wholly fulfilled . She found Avon
lea in the grip of such an early, cold, and stormy win
ter as even the “ oldest inhabitant ” could not recall.
Green Gables was literally hemmed in by huge drifts.
Almost every day of that ill-starred vacation it stormed
fiercely ; and even on fine days it drifted unceasingly.
No sooner were the roads broken than they filled in
again. It was almost impossible to stir out. The
A.V.I.S. tried, on three evenings, to have a party in
honour of the college students, and on each evening the
storm was so wild that nobody could go, so they gave
372
REMEMBERS THE ANNE -GIRL 173
up the attempt in despair. Anne, despite her love of

and loyalty to Green Gables, could not help thinking
longingly of Patty's Place, its cosy open fire, Aunt
Jamesina's mirthful eyes, the three cats, the merry
chatter of the girls, the pleasantness of Friday even
ings when college friends dropped in to talk of grave
and gay.
Anne was lonely ; Diana, during the whole of the
holidays, was imprisoned at home with a bad attack
of bronchitis. She could not come to Green Gables
and it was rarely Anne could get to Orchard Slope, for
the old way through the Haunted Wood was impass
able with drifts, and the long way over the frozen Lake
of Shining Waters was almost as bad. Ruby Gillis
was sleeping in the white-heaped graveyard ; Jane An
drews was teaching a school on western prairies,
Gilbert, to be sure, was still faithful, and waded up to
Green Gables every possible evening. But Gilbert's
visits were not what they once were. Anne almost
dreaded them. It was very disconcerting to look up in
the midst of a sudden silence and find Gilbert's hazel
eyes fixed upon her with a quite unmistakable expres.
sion in their grave depths ; and it was still more discon.
certing to find herself blushing hotly and uncomfort
ably under his gaze, just as if — just as if — well, it
was very embarrassing. Anne wished herself back at
Patty's Place, where there was always somebody else
about to take the edge off a delicate situation. At
Green Gables Marilla went promptly to Mrs. Lynde's
domain when Gilbert came and insisted on taking the
twins with her. The significance of this was unmis

takable and Anne was in a helpless fury over it.
Davy, however, was perfectly happy. He revelled
in getting out in the morning and shovelling out the
paths to the well and henhouse. He gloried in the
Christmas-tide delicacies which Marilla and Mrs.
Lynde vied with each other in preparing for Anne,
and he was reading an enthralling tale, in a school li
brary book, of a wonder ful hero who seemed blessed
with a miraculous faculty for getting into scrapes from
which he was usually delivered by an earthquake or a
volcanic explosion, which blew him high and dry out
of his troubles, landed him in aa fortune, and closed the
story with proper éclat..
“ I tell you it's a bully story, Anne, ” he said ecstati
cally. “ I'd ever so much rather read it than the
Bible .”
“ Would you ? ” smiled Anne.
Davy peered curiously at her.
“ You don't seem a bit shocked, Anne. Mrs. Lynde
was awful shocked when I said it to her ."
“ No, I'm not shocked, Davy. I think it's quite
natural that a nine- year-old boy would sooner read an
adventure story than the Bible. But when you are
older I hope and think that you will realize what a won
derful book the Bible is.”
“ Oh , I think some parts of it are fine,” conceded
Davy . “ That story about Joseph now - - it's bully.
But if I'd been Joseph I wouldn't have forgive the
brothers. No, siree, Anne. I'd have cut all their
REMEMBERS THE ANNE-GIRL 175
heads off. Mrs. Lynde was awful mad when I said

that and shut the Bible up and said she'd never read me
any more of it if I talked like that. So I don't talk
now when she reads it Sunday afternoons ; I just think
things and say them to Milty Boulter next day in
school. I told Milty the story about Elisha and the
bears and it scared him so he's never made fun of Mr.
Harrison's bald head since.. Are there any bears on
P.E. Island, Anne ? I want to know .”
“ Not nowadays,” said Anne, absently, as the wind
blew a scud of snow against the window. “ Oh , dear,
>
will it ever stop storming ."
God knows,” said Davy airily, preparing to resume
his reading
Anne was shocked this time.
Davy !” she exclaimed reproachfully.
“ Mrs. Lynde says that,” protested Davy. ' One
6
night last week Marilla said ' Will Ludovic Speed and
Theodora Dix ever get married,' and Mrs. Lynde said,
God knows '— just like that.'
-
“ Well, it wasn't right for her to say it,” said Anne,

promptly deciding upon which horn of this dilemma to
empale herself. “ It isn't right for anybody to take
that name in vain or speak it lightly, Davy. Don't
>
ever do it again .”
“ Not if I say it slow and solemn, like the minister ? "
queried Davy gravely.
“ No, not even then .”
Well, I won't. Ludovic Speed and Theodora Dix
live in Middle Grafton and Mrs. Rachel says he has
been courting her for a hundred years. Won't they

soon be too old to get married, Anne ? I hope Gilbert
won't court you that long. When are you going to be
married, Anne ? Mrs. Lynde says it's a sure thing."
“ Mrs. Lynde is a — ” began Anne hotly ; then
stopped.
* Awful old gossip," completed Davy calmly.
“ That's what every one calls her. But is it a sure
thing, Anne ? I want to know . "
>
You're a very silly little boy, Davy , ” said Anne,
stalking haughtily out of the room. The kitchen was
deserted and she sat down by the window in the fast
falling wintry twilight. The sun had set and the wind
had died down. A pale chilly moon looked out behind
a bank of purple clouds in the west. The sky faded
out, but the strip of yellow along the western horizon
grew brighter and fiercer, as if all the stray gleams of
light were concentrating in one spot ; the distant hills,
rimmed with priest-like firs, stood out in dark distinct
ness against it. Anne looked across the still, white
fields, cold and lifeless in the harsh light of that grim
sunset, and sighed. She was very lonely ; and she was
sad at heart ; for she was wondering if she would be
able to return to Redmond next year.. It did not seem
likely. The only scholarship possible in the Sophomore
year was a very small affair. She would not take Ma
rilla's money ; and there seemed little prospect of being
able to earn enough in the summer vacation.
“ I suppose I'll just have to drop out next year,” she
thought drearily, “ and teach a district school again
REMEMBERS THE ANNE-GIRL 177
until I earn enough to finish my course. And by that

time all my old class will have graduated and Patty's
Place will be out of the question. But there ! I'm not
going to be aa coward. I'm thankful I can earn my way
through if necessary. ”
Here's Mr. Harrison wading up the lane,” an
nounced Davy, running out. I hope he's brought the
mail. It's three days since we got it. I want to see
what them pesky Grits are doing. I'm aa Coservative,
Anne. And I tell you , you have to keep your eye on
them Grits.”
Mr. Harrison had brought the mail, and merry let
ters from Stella and Priscilla and Phil soon dissipated
Anne's blues. Aunt Jamesina, too, had written, say
ing that she was keeping the hearth -fire alight, and that
the cats were all well, and the house plants doing fine.
“ The weather has been real cold ,” she wrote, “ so I
let the cats sleep in the house — Rusty and Joseph on
the sofa in the living -room , and the Sarah -cat on the
foot of my bed. It's real company to hear her purring
when I wake up in the night and think of my poor
daughter in the foreign field. If it was anywhere but
in India I wouldn't worry, but they say the snakes out
there are terrible. It takes all the Sarah-cat's purring
to drive away the thought of those snakes. I have
enough faith for everything but the snakes. I can't
think why Providence ever made them. Sometimes I
don't think He did. I'm inclined to believe the Old
9
Harry had a hand in making them . "
Anne had left a thin, typewritten communication till
the last, thinking it unimportant. When she had read

it she sat very still, with tears in her eyes.
“ What is the matter, Anne ? ” asked Marilla.
“ Miss Josephine Barry is dead,” said Anne, in a low
tone .
“ So she has gone at last,” said Marilla. “ Well, she

has been sick for over a year, and the Barrys have been
expecting to hear of her death any time. It is well she
is at rest for she has suffered dreadfully, Anne. She
was always kind to you.”
“ She has been kind to the last, Marilla. This letter
is from her lawyer. She has left me a thousand dol
lars in her will."
“ Gracious, ain't that an awful lot of money ,” ex
claimed Davy. “ She's the woman you and Diana lit
on when you jumped into the spare room bed, ain't
she ? Diana told me that story. Is that why she left
you so much ? ”
“ Hush, Davy,” said Anne gently. She slipped
away to the porch gable with a full heart, leaving Ma
rilla and Mrs. Lynde to talk over the news to their
hearts' content.
“ Do you s'pose Anne will ever get married now ? "
speculated Davy anxiously. “ When Dorcas Sloane
got married last summer she said if she'd had enough
money to live on she'd never have been bothered with a
man, but even a widower with eight children was bet
ter'n living with a sister-in -law ."
“ Davy Keith, do hold your tongue,” said Mrs.
Rachel severely . “" The way you talk is scandalous for
a small boy , that's Wi "
CHAPTER XIX
AN INTERLUDE
“ To think that this is my twentieth birthday, and

that I've left my teens behind me forever,” said Anne,
who was curled up on the hearth-rug with Rusty in
her lap, to Aunt Jamesina who was reading in her pet
chair. They were alone in the living room. Stella
and Priscilla had gone to a committee meeting and
Phil was up-stairs adorning herself for a party.
“ I suppose you feel kind of sorry ,” said Aunt Jame
sina. “ The teens are such a nice part of life. I'm .
glad I've never gone out of them myself. ”
Anne laughed.
“ You never will, Aunty. You'll be eighteen when
you should be a hundred . Yes, I'm sorry, and a little
dissatisfied as well. Miss Stacy told me long ago that
by the time I was twenty my character would be
formed, for good or evil. I don't feel that it's what it
should be. It's full of flaws."
“ So's everybody's,” said Aunt Jamesina cheerfully.
Mine's cracked in a hundred places. Your Miss
Stacy likely meant that when you were twenty your
character would have got its permanent bent in one
direction or 'tother, and would go on developing in that
line. Don't worry over it, Anne. Do your duty by
179
God and your neighbour and yourself, and have a good
time. That's my philosophy and it's always worked
pretty well. Where's Phil off to to-night ”?”
“ She's going to a dance, and she's got the sweetest
dress for it — creamy yellow silk and cobwebby lace.
It just suits those brown tints of hers."
There's magic in the words ‘ silk ' and ' lace,' isn't
there?” said Aunt Jamesina. “ The very sound of
them makes me feel like skipping off to a dance. And
yellow silk. It makes one think of a dress of sun
shine. I always wanted a yellow silk dress, but first
my mother and then my husband wouldn't hear of it.
The very first thing I'm going to do when I get to
heaven is to get a yellow silk dress.”
Amid Anne's peal of laughter Phil came down-stairs,
trailing clouds of glory, and surveyed herself in the
long oval mirror on the wall.
“ A flattering looking - glass is a promoter of amiabil
ity , ” she said. “ The one in my room does certainly
make me green . Do I look pretty nice, Anne ? ”
Do you really know how pretty you are, Phil ? ”
asked Anne, in honest admiration.
“ Of course I do. What are looking -glasses and
men for ? That wasn't what I meant. Are all my
ends tucked in ? Is my skirt straight? And would
this rose look better lower down ? I'm afraid it's too
high — it will make me look lop-sided.
-
But I hate
things tickling my ears."
“ Everything is just right, and that southwest
dimple of yours is lovely."
AN INTERLUDE 181
Anne, there's one thing in particular I like about

you, - you're so ungrudging. There isn't a particle of
‫وو‬
envy in you . ”"
“ Why should she be envious ? " demanded Aunt
Jamesina . “ She's not quite as good - looking as you,
maybe, but she's got a far handsomer nose."
“ I know it," conceded Phil.
“ Mynose always has been a great comfort to me,”
confessed Anne.
“ And I love the way your hair grows on your fore
head, Anne. And that one wee curl, always looking as
if it were going to drop, but never dropping, is de
licious. But as for noses, mine is a dreadful worry to
me. I know by the time I'm forty it will be Byrney.
What do you think I'll lock like when I'm forty,
Anne ? ”
“ Like an old, matronly, married woman,” teased
Anne.
“ I won't,” said Phil, sitting down comfortably to

wait for her escort. Joseph, you calico beastie, don't
you dare jump on my lap. I won't go to a dance all
over cat-hairs.. No, Anne, I won't look matronly,
)
But no doubt I'll be married ."
“ To Alec or Alonzo ? ” asked Anne.
“ To one of them, I suppose,” sighed Phil, “ if I can
ever decide which .”
“ It shouldn't be hard to decide,” scolded Aunt
Jamesina.
“ I was born a see- saw , Aunty, and nothing can ever
>
prevent me from teetering.”
“ You ought to be more level-headed, Philippa.”

“ It's best to be level-headed, of course,” agreed
Philippa, “ but you miss lots of fun. As for Alec and
Alonzo, if you knew them you'd understand why it's
difficult to choose between them . They're equally
nice.”
“ Then take somebody who is nicer,” suggested Aunt
Jamesina. “ There's that Senior who is so devoted to
you Will Leslie. He has such nice, large, mild
eyes. ”
They're a. little bit too large and too mild — like a
cow's ,” said Phil cruelly.
“ What do you say about George Parker ? ”
“ There's nothing to say about him except that he
always looks as if he had just been starched and
ironed .”
Marr Holworthy then . You can't find a fault with
him .”
“ No, he would do if he wasn't poor. I must marry
a rich man, Aunt Jamesina. That — and good looks
-
is an indispensable qualification . I'd marry Gilbert

Blythe if he were rich."
“ Oh , would you ? ” said Anne, rather viciously.
66
We don't like that idea a little bit, although we
don't want Gilbert ourselves, oh, no , ” mocked Phil.
“ But don't let's talk of disagreeable subjects. I'll
have to marry sometime, I suppose, but I shall put off
the evil day as long as I can . ”
“ You mustn't marry anybody you don't love, Phil,
when all's said and done,” said Aunt Jamesina.
AN INTERLUDE 183
“ Oh, hearts that loved in the good old way,

Have been out o' the fashion this many a day,''
trilled Phil mockingly. There's the carriage. I fly
>>
-
– Bi-bi, you two old- fashioned darlings."

When Phil had gone Aunt Jamesina looked solemnly
at Anne .
That girl is pretty and sweet and good-hearted, but
do you think she is quite right in her mind, by spells,
Anne ? "
Oh, I don't think there's anything the matter with
Phil's mind,” said Anne, hiding a smile. “ It's just her
way of talking."
Aunt Jamesina shook her head.
“ Well, I hope so, Anne. I do hope so, because I >
love her. But I can't understand her she beats me.

She isn't like any of the girls I ever knew, or any of the
girls I was myself.”
How many girls were you , Aunt Jimsie ?
About half a dozen, my dear.”
CHAPTER XX
GILBERT SPEAKS
“ This has been a dull, prosy day,” yawned Phil,

stretching herself idly on the sofa, having previously
dispossessed two exceedingly indignant cats.
Anne looked up from Pickwick Papers. Now that
spring examinations were over she was treating here
self to Dickens.
“ It has been a prosy day for us,” she said thought
fully, “ but to some people it has been a wonderful day.
Some one has been rapturously happy in it. Perhaps a
great deed has been done somewhere to - day –
great poem written or a great man born . And some
heart has been broken , Phil.”
“ Why did you spoil your pretty thought by tagging
that last sentence on, honey ? ' grumbled Phil. “ I
don't like to think of broken hearts or anything un
pleasant."
“Do you think you'll be able to shirk unpleasant
things all your life, Phil ? "
“ Dear me, no. Am I not up against them now ?
You don't call Alec and Alonzo pleasant things, do you ,
when they simply plague my life out? ”
“ You never take anything seriously, Phil.”
284
GILBERT SPEAKS 185
* Why should I ? There are enough folks who do.

The world needs people like me, Anne, just to amuse it.
It would be a terrible place if everybody were intellec
tual and serious and in deep, deadly earnest. My
6
mission is, as Josiah Allen says, ' to charm and allure .'
Confess now . Hasn't life at Patty's Place been really
much brighter and pleasanter this past winter because
I've been here to leaven you ? ”
“ Yes, it has," owned Anne.
And you all love me — even Aunt Jamesina, who
thinks I'm stark mad. So why should I try to be dif
ferent ? Oh, dear, I'm so sleepy. I was awake until
one last night, reading a harrowing ghost story. I
read it in bed, and after I had finished it do you sup
pose I could get out of bed to put the light out ? No !
And if Stella had not fortunately come in late that
lamp would have burned good and bright till morning.
When I heard Stella I called her in, explained my pre
dicament, and got her to put out the light. If I had got
out myself to do it I knew something would grab me by
the feet when I was getting in again. By the way,
Anne, has Aunt Jamesina decided what to do this sum
mer ? ”
“ Yes, she's going to stay here. I know she's doing
it for the sake of those blessed cats, although she says
it's too much trouble to open her own house, and she
hates visiting .”
“ What are you reading ? ”
" Pickwick .”
“ That's aa book that always makes me hungry,” said
Phil. “ There's so much good eating in it. The char
acters seem always to be revelling on ham and eggs and
milk punch . I generally go on a cupboard rummage
after reading Pickwick . The mere thought reminds
me that I'm starving. Is there any tidbit in the pan
try, Queen Anne ?
“ I made a lemon pie this morning. You may have
a piece of it."
Phil dashed out to the pantry and Anne betook her
self to the orchard in company with Rusty. It was a
moist, pleasantly-odorous night in early spring. The
snow was not quite all gone from the park ; a little
dingy bank of it yet lay under the pines of the harbour
road, screened from the influence of April suns. It
kept the harbour road muddy, and chilled the evening
air. But grass was growing green in sheltered spots
and Gilbert had found some pale, sweet arbutus in a
hidden corner . He came up from the park, his hands
full of it.
Anne was sitting on the big gray boulder in the
orchard looking at the poem of a bare, birchen bough
hanging against the pale red sunset with the very per
fection of grace. She was building a castle in air a
wondrous mansion whose sunlit courts and stately halls
were steeped in Araby's perfume, and where she
reigned queen and chatelaine. She frowned as she saw
Gilbert coming through the orchard. Of late she had
managed not to be left alone with Gilbert. But he
had caught her fairly now ; and even Rusty had de
serted her.
GILBERT SPEAKS 187
Gilbert sat down beside her on the boulder and held

out his Mayflowers.
“ Don't these remind you of home and our old
school-day picnics, Anne? "
Anne took them and buried her face in them.
“ I'm in Mr. Silas Sloane's barrens this very minute,”
she said rapturously.
“ I suppose you will be there in reality in a few
days ? ”
No, not for a fortnight. I'm going to visit with
Phil in Bolingbroke before I go home. You'll be in
Avonlea before I will."
“ No, I shall not be in Avonlea at all this summer,
Anne. I've been offered a job in the Daily News
office and I'm going to take it.”
“ Oh,” said Anne vaguely. She wondered what a
whole Avonlea summer would be like without Gilbert
Somehow she did not like the prospect. “ Well," she
concluded flatly, “ it is a good thing for you, of
course."
“ Yes, I've been hoping I would get it. It will help
me out next year.”
“ You mustn't work too hard,” said Anne, without
any very clear idea of what she was saying. She
wished desperately that Phil would come out.
“ You've studied very constantly this winter. Isn't
this a delightful evening ? Do you know, I found a
cluster of white violets under that old twisted tree over
there to -day ? I felt as if I had discovered a gold
mine."
" You are always discovering gold mines,” said Gil

bert also absently.
“Let us go and see if we can find some more,”
suggested Anne eagerly. “ I'll call Phil and — ”
“ Never mind Phil and the violets just now, Anne,”
said Gilbert quietly, taking her hand in a clasp from
which she could not free it. “ There is something I
want to say to you .”
' Oh, don't say it,” cried Anne, pleadingly. ““ Don't
- please, Gilbert .”
“ I must. Things can't go on like this any longer.
Anne, I love you. You know I do. I- I can't tell
you how much. Will you promise me that some day
you'll be my wife ? "
" I — I can't,” said Anne miserably. “ Oh, Gil
bert — you — you've spoiled everything.”
Don't you care for me at all ? ” Gilbert asked after
a very dreadful pause, during which Anne had not
dared to look up.
Not not in that way. I do care a great deal for
you as a friend. But I don't love you, Gilbert.”
“ But can't you give me some hope that you will
yet ? ”
“ No, I can't,” exclaimed Anne desperately. “ I
never, never can love you in that way — Gilbert.
You must never speak of this to me again.”
There was another pause - so long and so dread
ful that Anne was driven at last to look up. Gilbert's
face was white to the lips. And his eyes but Anne
shuddered and looked away. There was nothing
GILBERT SPEAKS 189
romantic about this. Must proposals be either gro

tesque or horrible ? Could she ever forget Gilbert's
face ?
“ Is there anybody else ? ” he asked at last in a low

voice.
No— no,” said Anne eagerly. “ I don't care for
any one like that -
and I like you better than anybody

else in the world, Gilbert. And we must — we must
go on being friends, Gilbert.”'
Gilbert gave a bitter little laugh.
Friends ! Your friendship can't satisfy me, Anne.
I want your love -
and you tell me I can never have

that.”
>
“ I'm sorry. Forgive me, Gilbert,” was all Anne
could say. Where, oh, where were all the gracious
and graceful speeches wherewith, in imagination, she
had been wont to dismiss rejected suitors ?
Gilbert released her hand gently.
“ There isn't anything to forgive. There have been
times when I thought you did care. I've deceived my
self, that's all. Good -bye, Anne.”
Anne got herself to her room, sat down on her win
dow seat behind the pines, and cried bitterly. She felt
as if something incalculably precious had gone out of
her life. It was Gilbert's friendship, of course. Oh,
why must she lose it after this fashion ?
“ What is the matter, honey ? " asked Phil, coming in
through the moonlit gloom.
Anne did not answer. At that moment she wished
Phil were a thousand miles away .
“ I suppose you've gone and refused Gilbert Blythe.
You are an idiot, Anne Shirley ! ”
* Do you call it idiotic to refuse to marry a man I
don't love ? ” said Anne coldly, goaded to reply.
“ You don't know love when you see it. You've
tricked something out with your imagination that you
think love, and you expect the real thing to look like
that. There, that's the first sensible thing I've ever
said in my life. I wonder how I managed it ? ”
“ Phil,” pleaded Anne, “ please go away and leave
me alone for aa little while. My world has tumbled into
pieces. I want to reconstruct it.”
“ Without any Gilbert in it ? ” said Phil, going.
A world without any Gilbert in it ! Anne repeated
the words drearily. Would it not be a very lonely,
forlorn place ? Well, it was all Gilbert's fault. He
had spoiled their beautiful comradeship. She must
just learn to live without it.
CHAPTER XXI
ROSES OF YESTERDAY
The fortnight Anne spent in Bolingbroke was a very

pleasant one, with a little undercurrent of vague pain
and dissatisfaction running through it wheneve: she
thought about Gilbert. There was not, however, much
time to think about him. Mount Holly ,” the beauti
ful old Gordon homestead, was a very gay place, over
run by Phil's friends of both sexes. There was quite
a bewildering succession of drives, dances, picnics and
boating parties, all expressively lumped together by
Phil under the head of “ jamborees ” ; Alec and Alonzo
were so constantly on hand that Anne wondered if they
ever did anything but dance attendance on that will-o'
the-wisp of a Fhil. They were both nice, manly fel
lows, but Anne would not be drawn into any opinion as
to which was the nicer .
“ And I depended so on you to help me make up my
mind which of them I should promise to marry,”
mourned Phil.
“ You must do that for yourself. You are quite ex
pert at making up your mind as to whom other people
should marry,” retorted Anne, rather caustically.
“ Oh, that's a very different thing," said Phil truly.
191
But the sweetest incident of Anne's sojourn in Bol

ingbroke was the visit to her birthplace — the little
-
shabby yellow house in an out-of-the-way street she

had so often dreamed about. She looked at it with de
lighted eyes, as she and Phil turned in at the gate.
“ It's almost exactly as I've pictured it,” she said.
“ There is no honeysuckle over the windows, but there
is a lilac tree by the gate, and — yes, there are the
muslin curtains in the windows. How glad I am it is
still painted yellow .”
A very tall, very thin woman opened the door. 9
“ Yes, the Shirleys lived here twenty years ago, ”

she said, in answer to Anne's question. “ They had it
rented. I remember 'em. They both died of fever at
They left a baby. I guess
onct. It was turrible sad.
it's dead long ago. It was a sickly thing. Old
Thomas and his wife took it as if they hadn't
enough of their own.'
“ It didn't die,” said Anne, smiling. “ I was that
baby.”
You don't say so ! Why, you have grown,” ex
claimed the woman, as if she were much surprised that
Anne was not still a baby. “ Come to look at you , I
see the resemblance . You're complected like your pa.
He had red hair. But you favour your ma in your
eyes and mouth . She was a nice little thing . My
darter went to school to her and was nigh crazy about
her. They was buried in the one grave and the School
Board put up a tombstone to them as a reward for
faithful service. ill you come in ? ”
ROSES OF YESTERDAY 193
“ Will you let me go all over the house ? ” asked

Anne eagerly .
Laws, yes, you can if you like. 'Twon't take you
long — there ain't much of .
-
it. I keep at my man to

build a new kitchen, but he ain't one of your hustlers.
The parlour's in there and there's two rooms up-stairs.
Just prowl about yourselves. I've got to see to the
baby. The east room was the one you were born in. I
remember your ma saying she loved to see the sunrise ;
and I mind hearing that you was born just as the sun
was rising and its light on your face was the first thing
your ma saw .”
Anne went up the narrow stairs and into that little
east room with a full heart. It was as a shrine to her.
Here her mother had dreamed the exquisite, happy
dreams of anticipated motherhood ; here that red sun
rise light had fallen over them both in the sacred hour
of birth ; here her mother had died. Anne looked about
her reverently, her eyes dim with tears. It was for her
one of the jewelled hours of life that gleam out radi
antly forever in memory.
“ Just to think of it mother was younger than I
am now when I was born ,” she whispered.
When Anne went down-stairs the lady of the house
met her in the hall. She held out a dusty little packet
tied with faded blue ribbon.
Here's a bundle of old letters I found in that closet
up-stairs when I camehere,” she said. “ I dunno what
they are — I never bothered to look in 'em, but the
address on the top one is ‘ Miss Bertha Willis,' and that
was your ma's maiden name. You can take 'em if

you'd keer to have ' em . ”
“ Oh, thank you thank you ,” cried Anne, clasping
the packet rapturously.
“ That was all that was in the house,” said her
hostess. “ The furniture was all sold to pay the doc
tor bills, and Mrs. Thomas got your ma's clothes and
little things. I reckon they didn't last long among that
drove of Thomas youngsters. They was destructive .
young animals, as I mind 'em ."
“ I haven't one thing that belonged to my mother,”
said Anne, chokily. “ I -- I can never thank you
enough for these letters."
“ You're quite welcome. Law's, but your eyes is
like your ma's. She could just about talk with hers.
Your father was sorter homely but awful nice. I mind
hearing folks say when they was married that there
never was two people more in love with each other -
Pore creetures, they didn't live much longer ; but they

was awful happy while they was alive, and I s'pose
that counts for a good deal.”
Anne longed to get home to read her precious let
ters ; but she made one little pilgrimage first. She went
alone to the green corner of the “ old ” Bolingbroke
cemetery where her father and mother were buried, and
left on their grave the white flowers she carried. Then
she hastened back to Mount Holly, shut herself up in
her room , and read the letters. Some were written by
her father, some by her mother. There were not
many — only a dozen in all — for Walter and Bertha
ROSES OF YESTERDAY 195
Shirley had not been often separated during their

courtship. The letters were yellow and faded and dim,
blurred with the touch of passing years. No profound
words of wisdom were traced on the stained and
wrinkled pages, but only lines of love and trust. The
sweetness of forgotten things clung to them — the far
off, fond imaginings of those long - dead lovers.
Bertha Shirley had possessed the gift of writing let
ters which embodied the charming personality of the
writer in words and thoughts that retained their beauty
and fragrance after the lapse of time. The letters
were tender, intimate, sacred. To Anne, the sweet
est of all was the one written after her birth to the
father on a brief absence . It was full of a proud
young mother's accounts of “ baby ” — her cleverness,
her brightness, her thousand sweetnesses.
“ I love her best when she is asleep and better still
when she is awake, ” Bertha Shirley had written in the
postscript. Probably it was the last sentence she had
ever penned. The end was very near for her.
“ This has been the most beautiful day of my life,”
Anne said to Phil that night. “ I've found my father
and mother. Those letters have made them real to me.
I'm not an orphan any longer. I feel as if I had
opened aa book and found roses of yesterday, sweet and
>
beloved, between its leaves."
CHAPTER XXII
SPRING AND ANNE RETURN TO GREEN GABLES
The firelight shadows were dancing over the kitchen

walls at Green Gables, for the spring evening was
chilly ; through the open east window drifted in the
subtly sweet voices of the night. Marilla was sitting
by the fire - at least, in body. In spirit she was
roaming olden ways, with feet grown young. Of late
Marilla had thus spent many an hour, when she
thought she should have been knitting for the twins.
“ I suppose I'm growing old ,” she said.
Yet Marilla had changed but little in the past nine
years, save to grow something thinner, and even more
angular; there was a little more gray in the hair that
was still twisted up in the same hard knot, with two
hairpins were they the same hairpins ? — still stuck
-
through it. But her expression was very different; the

something about the mouth which had hinted at a sense
of humour had developed wonderfully ; her eyes were
gentler and milder, her smile more frequent and tender.
Marilla was thinking of her whole past life, her
cramped but not unhappy childhood, the jealously hid
den dreams and the blighted hopes of her girlhood, the
long, gray, narrow, monotonous years of dull mid
" lle life that followed. And the coming of Anne
196
SPRING AND ANNE RETURN 197
the vivid, imaginative, impetuous child with her heart

of love, and her world of fancy, bringing with her
colour and warmth and radiance, until the wilderness
of existence had blossomed like the rose. Marilla feit
that out of her sixty years she had lived only the nine
that had followed the advent of Anne. And Anne
would be home to-morrow night.
The kitchen door opened. Marilla looked up ex
pecting to see Mrs. Lynde. Anne stood before her,
tall and starry -eyed, with her hands full of Mayflowers
and violets.
“ Anne Shirley ! ” exclaimed Marilla. For once in
her life she was surprised out of her reserve ; she caught
her girl in her arms and crushed her and her flowers
against her heart, kissing the bright hair and sweet
face warmly. “ I never looked for you till to -morrow
night. How did you get from Carmody ? ”
“ Walked, dearest of Marillas. Haven't I done it a
score of times in the Queen's days ? The mailman is
to bring my trunk to-morrow ; I just got homesick all
at once, and came a day earlier. And oh ! I've had
such a lovely walk in the May twilight; I stopped by the
barrens and picked these Mayflowers ; I came through
Violet- Vale ; it's just a big bowlful of violets now
the dear, sky -tinted things. Smell them, Marilla -
99
drink them in .
Marilla sniffed obligingly, but she was more inter
ested in Aune than in drinking violets.
“ Sit down, child. You must be real tired. I'm
going to get you some supper. ”
There's a darling moonrise behind the hills to

night, Marilla, and oh, how the frogs sang me home
from Carmody ! I do love the music of the frogs. It
seems bound up with all my happiest recollections of
old spring evenings. And it always reminds me of the
night I came here first. Do you remember it,
Marilla ? "
“ Well, yes,” said Marilla with emphasis. “ I'm not
likely to forget it ever. "
They used to sing so madly in the marsh and brook
that year. I would listen to them at my window in the
dusk , and wonder how they could seem so glad and
so sad at the same time. Oh, but it's good to be home
again ! Redmond was splendid and Bolingbroke de
lightful — but Green Gables is home. ”
“ Gilbert isn't coming home this summer, I hear,"
said Marilla.
No.” Something in Anne's tone made Marilla
glance at her sharply, but Anne was apparently ab
sorbed in arranging her violets in a bowl. “ See,
aren't they sweet ? ” she went on hurriedly. “ The
year is a book, isn't it, Marilla ? Spring's pages are
written in Mayflowers and violets, summer's in roses,
autumn's in red maple leaves, and winter in holly and
evergreen .”
“ Did Gilbert do well in his examinations? ” per
sisted Marilla.
Excellently well. He led his class. But where are
the twins and Mrs. Lynde ? ”
“ Rachel and Dora are over at Mr. Harrison's.
Davy is down at Boulters' . I think I hear him coming

now .”
Davy burst in, saw Anne, stopped, and then hurled
himself upon her with a joyful yell.
“ Oh, Anne, ain't I glad to see you ! Say, Anne,
I've grown two inches since last fall. Mrs. Lynde
measured me with her tape to-day, and say, Anne, see
my front tooth. It's gone. Mrs. Lynde tied one end
of a string to it and the other end to the door, and then
shut the door. I sold it to Milty for two cents.
Milty's collecting teeth .”
>
What in the world does he want teeth for ? ” asked
Marilla .
To make a necklace for playing Indian Chief,”
explained Davy, climbing upon Anne's lap. “• He's
got fifteen already, and everybody else's promised, so
there's no use in the rest of us starting to collect, too.
I tell you the Boulters are great business people .”
Were you a good boy at Mrs. Boulter's ? ” asked
Marilla severely.
but say, Marilla, I'm tired of being good . ”
“ Yes ; but
“ You'd get tired of being bad much sooner , Davy
>
boy ,” said Anne.
“ Well, it'd be fun while it lasted, wouldn't it ? ” per
sisted Davy. “ I could be sorry for it afterwards,
couldn't I ? ”
Being sorry wouldn't do away with the conse
quences of being bad, Davy. Don't you remember the
Sunday last summer when you ran away from Sunday
School ? You told me then that being bad wasn't
worth while. What were you and Milty doing to

day ? ”
Oh, we fished and chased the cat, and hunted for
eggs, and yelled at the echo. There's a great echo in
the bush behind the Boulter barn. Say, what is echo,
Anne ; I want to know ."
“ ' Echo is a beautiful nymph, Davy,, living far away
in the woods, and laughing at the world from among
the hills ."
“ What does she look like ? ”
“ Her hair and eyes are dark , but her neck and arms
are white as snow. No mortal can ever see how fair
she is. She is fleeter than a deer, and that mocking
voice of hers is all we can know of her. You can hear
her calling at night ; you can hear her laughing under
>
the stars. But you can never see her. She flies afar
if you follow her, and laughs at you always just over
the next hill."
“ Is that all true, Anne ? Or is it a whopper ? " de
manded Davy staring.
“ Davy,” said Anne despairingly, “haven't you
sense enough to distinguish between a fairy -tale and a
falsehood ? ”
Then what is it that sasses back from the Boulter
bush ? I want to know ," insisted Davy.
“ When you are a little older, Davy, I'll explain it
all to you.”
The mention of age evidently gave a new turn to
Davy's thoughts for after aа . few moments of reflection,
he whispered solemnly :
Anne, I'm going to be married.”

“ When ? ” asked Anne with equal solemnity.
“ Oh, not until I'm grown -up, of course."
“ Well, that's a relief, Davy. Who is the lady ? ”
“ Stella Fletcher ; she's in my class at school. And
say, Anne, she's the prettiest girl you ever saw. If I
die before I grow up you'll keep an eye on her, won't
you ? ”
Davy Keith , do stop talking such nonsense,” said
Marilla severely.
“ 'Tisn't nonsense,” protested Davy in an injured
tone. “ She's my promised wife, and if I was to die
she'd be my promised widow , wouldn't she ? And she
hasn't got a soul to look after her except her old grand
mother.”
“ Come and have your supper, Anne,” said Marilla,
“ and don't encourage that child in his absurd talk ."
CHAPTER XXIII
PAUL CANNOT FIND THE ROCK PEOPLE
LIFE was very pleasant in Avonlea that summer, al

though Anne, amid all her vacation joys, was haunted
by a sense of “ something gone which should be there."
She would not admit, even in her inmost reflections,
that this was caused by Gilbert's absence. But when
she had to walk home alone from prayer meetings and
A.V.I.S. pow -wows, while Diana and Fred, and
many other gay couples, loitered along the dusky, star
lit country roads, there was a queer, lonely ache in her
heart which she could not explain away. Gilbert did
not even write to her, as she thought he might have
done. She knew he wrote to Diana occasionally, but
she would not inquire about him ; and Diana, suppos
ing that Anne heard from him, volunteered no in
formation. Gilbert's mother, who was a gay, frank,
light-hearted lady, but not over-burdened with tact, had
a very embarrassing habit of asking Anne, always in
a painfully distinct voice and always in the presence of
a crowd, if she had heard from Gilbert lately. Poor
Anne could only blush horribly and murmur, “ not
very lately," which was taken by all, Mrs. Blythe in
cluded, to be merely a maidenly evasion.
Apart from this, Anne enjoyed her summer .
202
PAUL CANNOT FIND ROCK PEOPLE 203
Priscilla came for a merry visit in June ; and, when she

had gone, Mr. and Mrs. Irving, Paul and Charlotta
the Fourth came home ‫ ܕܙ‬for July and August.
Echo Lodge was the scene of gaieties once more,
and the echoes over the river were kept busy mimicking
the laughter that rang in the old garden behind the
spruces.
“ Miss Lavendar " had not changed, except to grow
even sweeter and prettier. Paul adored her, and the
companionship between them was beautiful to see.
9)
“ But I don't call her ' mother ' just by itself," he
explained to Anne. “ You see, that name belongs just
to my own little mother, and I can't give it to any one
else. You know, teacher. But I call her ‘ Mother
Lavendar ' and I love her next best to father. I-I
even love her a little better than you, teacher.””
a
“ Which is just as it ought to be," answered Anne.

Paul was thirteen now and very tall for his years.
His face and eyes were as beautiful as ever, and his
fancy was still like a prism, separating everything that
fell upon it into rainbows. He and Anne had delight
ful rambles to wood and field and shore . Never were
there two more thoroughly “ kindred spirits.”
Charlotta the Fourth had blossomed out into young
ladyhood. She wore her hair now in an enormous
pompadour and had discarded the blue ribbon bows of
auld lang syne, but her face was as freckled, her nose
as snubbed, and her mouth and smiles as wide as ever.
You don't think I talk with a Yankee accent, do
you, Miss Shirley, ma'am ? " she demanded anxiously.
“ I don't notice it, Charlotta .”

“ I'm real glad of that. They said I did at home,
but I thought likely they just wanted to aggravate me.
I don't want no Yankee accent. Not that I've a word
to say against the Yankees, Miss Shirley, ma'am.
They're real civilized. But give me old P.E. Island
every time.”
Paul spent his first fortnight with his grandmother
Irving in Avonlea. Anne was there to meet him when
he came, and found him wild with eagerness to get to
the shore Nora and the Golden Lady and the Twin
Sailors would be there. He could hardly wait to eat
his supper. Could he not see Nora's elfin face peering
around the point, watching for him wistfully ? But
it was a very sober Paul who came back from the shore
in the twilight.
“ Didn't you find your Rock People ? ” asked Anne.
Paul shook his chestnut curls sorrowfully.
“66 The Twin Sailors and the Golden Lady never came
at all,”
, he said . “ Nora was there — but Nora is not
the same, teacher. She is changed.”
Oh, Paul, it is you who are changed ,” said Anne.
“ You have grown too old for the Rock People.
They like only children for playfellows. I am afraid
the Twin Sailors will never again come to you in the
pearly, enchanted boat with the sail of moonshine ; and
the Golden Lady will play no more for you on her
golden harp. Even Nora will not meet you much
longer. You must pay the penalty of growing -up,
Paul. You must leave fairyland behind you.”
PAUL CANNOT FIND ROCK PEOPLE 205
' You two talk as much foolishness as ever you did ,”

said old Mrs. Irving, half-indulgently, half-reprov
ingly.
“ Oh, no, we don't,” said Anne, shaking her head
gravely. We are getting very, very wise, and it is
such a pity. We are never half so interesting when we
have learned that language is given us to enable us to
conceal our thoughts.”
“ But it isn't --- it is given us to exchange our
thoughts," said Mrs. Irving seriously. She had never
heard of Tallyrand and did not understand epigrams.
Anne spent a fortnight of halcyon days at Echo
Lodge in the golden prime of August. While there
she incidentally contrived to hurry Ludovic Speed in
his leisurely courting of Theodora Dix, as related duly
in another chronicle of her history.1 Arnold Sher
man, an elderly friend of the Irvings, was there at the
same time, and added not a little to the general pleas
antness of life.
“ What aa nice play -time this has been ,” said Anne.
“ I feel like a giant refreshed. And it's only a fort
night more till I go back to Kingsport, and Redmond
and Patty's Place. Patty's Place is the dearest spot,
Miss Lavendar. I feel as if I had two homes -
one at
Green Gables and one at Patty's Place . But where
has the summer gone ? It doesn't seem a day since I
came home that spring evening with the Mayflowers.
When I was little I couldn't see from one end of the
summer to the other. It stretched before me like an
1 Chronicles of Avonleza The Page Company.
unending season . Now " 'tis a handbreadth, 'tis a

tale .'
Anne, are you and Gilbert Blythe as good friends
as you used to be ? ” asked Miss Lavendar quietly.
“ I am just as much Gilbert's friend as ever I was,
Miss Lavendar.'
Miss Lavendar shook her head.
“ I see something's gone wrong, Anne. I'm going
to be impertinent and ask what . Have you quar
relled ? '
“ No; it's only that Gilbert wants more than friend
ship and I can't give him more.”
“ Are you sure of that, Anne? ”
66
Perfectly sure. "
“ I'm very, very sorry.”
“ I wonder why everybody seems to think I ought
to marry Gilbert Blythe,” said Anne petulantly.
“ Because you were made and meant for each other,
Anne that is why. You needn't toss that young
>
head of yours. It's a fact. ”
CHAPTER XXIV
ENTER JONAS
“ PROSPECT POINT ,
August 20th.
DEAR ANNE — spelled — with - an— E ,” wrote
- -
Phil, “ I must prop my eyelids open long enough to

write you. I've neglected you shamefully this sum
mer, honey , but all my other correspondents have been
neglected , too. I have a huge pile of letters to answer,
so I must gird up the loins of my mind and hoe in.
Excuse my mixed metaphors . I'm fearfully sleepy.
Last night Cousin Emily and I were calling at a neigh
bour's . There were several other callers there, and,
as soon as those unfortunate creatures left , our hostess
and her three daughters picked them all to pieces. I
knew they would begin on Cousin Emily and me as
soon as the door shut behind us . When we came
home Mrs. Lilly informed us that the aforesaid neigh
bour's hired boy was supposed to be down with scarlet
fever. You can always trust Mrs. Lilly to tell you
cheerful things like that. I have a horror of scarlet
fever. I couldn't sleep when I went to bed for think
ing of it. I tossed and tumbled about , dreaming fear
ful dreams when I did snooze for a minute ; and at
three I wakened up with a high fever, a sore throat,
207
and a raging headache. I knew I had scarlet fever; I

got up in a panic and hunted up Cousin Emily's ' doctor
book ' to read up the symptoms
symptoms.. Anne, I had them all.
So I went back to bed, and knowing the worst, slept
like a top the rest of the night. Though why a top
should sleep sounder than anything else I never could
understand. But this morning I was quite well, so it
couldn't have been the fever. I suppose if I did catch
it last night it couldn't have developed so soon . I can
remember that in day-time, but at three o'clock at night
I never can be logical.
“ I suppose you wonder what I'm doing at Prospect
Point. Well, I always like to spend a month of sum
mer at the shore, and father insists that I come to his
second-cousin Emily's ' select boarding-house ' at
Prospect Point. So a fortnight ago I came as usual.
And as usual old ' Uncle Mark Miller ' brought me
from the station with his ancient buggy and what he
calls his ' generous purpose' horse. He is a nice old
man and gave me a handful of pink peppermints.
Peppermints always seem to me such a religious sort of
candy.— I suppose because when I was a little girl
Grandmother Gordon always gave them to me in
church. Once I asked, referring to the smell of pep
permints, ‘ Is that the odour of sanctity ? ' I didn't like
to eat Uncle Mark's peppermints because he just fished
them loose out of his pocket, and had to pick some
rusty nails and other things from among them before
he gave them to me. But I wouldn't hurt his dear old
feelings for anything, so I carefully sowed them along
ENTER JONAS 209
the road at intervals. When the last one was gone,

Uncle Mark said, a little rebukingly, ‘ Ye shouldn't a'et
all them candies to onct, Miss Phil. You'll likely have
the stummick-ache.'
“ Cousin Emily has only five boarders besides my
self,— four old ladies and one young man. My riglit
hand neighbour is Mrs. Lilly. She is one of those
people who seem to take a gruesome pleasure in detail
ing all their many aches and pains and sicknesses.
You cannot mention any ailment but she says, shak
- and
ing her head, ' Ah, I know too well what that is '—
then you get all the details . Jonas declares he once
spoke of locomotor ataxia in her hearing and she said
she knew too well what that was. She suffered from
it for ten years and was finally cured by a travelling
doctor .
“ Who is Jonas ? Just wait, Anne Shirley. You'll
hear all about Jonas in the proper time and place. He
is not to be mixed up with estimable old ladies.
My left-hand neighbour at the table is Mrs. Phin
ney. She always speaks with a wailing, dolorous voice
— you are nervously expecting her to burst into tears
every moment. She gives you the impression that life
to her is indeed a vale of tears, and that a smile, never
to speak of a laugh, is a frivolity truly reprehensible.
She has a worse opinion of me than Aunt Jamesina,
and she doesn't love me hard to atone for it, as Aunty
J. does, either.
“ Miss Maria Grimsby sits cati-corner from me..
The first day I came I remarked to Miss Maria that it
looked a little like rain — and Miss Maria laughed

I said the road from the station was very pretty — and
Miss Maria laughed. I said there seemed to be a few
mosquitoes left yet — and Miss Maria laughed. I said
that Prospect Point was as beautiful as ever and
Miss Maria laughed. If I were to say to Miss Maria,
' My father has hanged himself, my mother has taken
poison, my brother is in the penitentiary, and I am in
the last stages of consumption, ' Miss Maria would
laugh .. She can't help it — she was born so ; but it's
very sad and awful.
The fifth old lady is Mrs. Grant. She is a sweet
old thing ; but she never says anything but good of
anybody and so she is a very uninteresting conversa
tionalist.
And now for Jonas, Anne.
“ That first day I came I saw a young man sitting
opposite to me at the table, smiling at me as if he had
known me from my cradle. I knew,, for Uncle Mark
had told me, that his name was Jonas Blake, that he
was a Theological Student from St. Columba, and that
he had taken charge of the Point Prospect Mission
Church for the summer.
“ He is a very ugly young man really, the ugliest
-
young man I've ever seen. He has a big, loose -jointed

figure with absurdly long legs. His hair is tow-colour
and lank, his eyes are green, and his mouth is big, and
his ears —but I never think about his ears if I can
help it.
“ He has a lovely voice — if you shut your eyes he
ENTER JONAS 211
is adorable — and he certainly has a beautiful soul and

disposition.
“ We were good chums right away. Of course he
is a graduate of Redmond, and that is a link between
us . We fished and boated together ; and we walked
on the sands by moonlight. He didn't look so homely
by moonlight and oh, he was nice. Niceness fairly
exhaled from him . The old ladies except Mrs.
Grant — don't approve of Jonas , because he laughs
and jokes and because he evidently likes the society
of frivolous me better than theirs .
Somehow, Anne, I don't want him to think me
>
frivolous. This is ridiculous. Why should I care

what a tow-haired person called Jonas, whom I never
saw before, thinks of me ?
Last Sunday Jonas preached in the village church.
I went, of course, but I couldn't realize that Jonas was
going to preach. The fact that he was a minister or
going to be one — persisted in seeming a huge joke
to me.
“ Well,, Jonas preached. And, by the time he had

preached ten minutes, I felt so small and insignificant
that I thought I must be invisible to the naked eye..
Jonas never said a word about women and he never
looked at me . But I realized then and there what a
pitiful, frivolous, small-souled little butterfly I was,
and how horribly different I must be from Jonas' ideal
woman . She would be grand and strong and noble.
He was so earnest and tender and true. He was every
thing a minister ought to be. I wondered how I could
ever have thought him ugly — but he really is ! — with

those inspired eyes and that intellectual brow which
the roughly -falling hair hid on week days.
“ It was a splendid sermon and I could have listened
to it forever, and it made me feel utterly wretched.
Oh, I wish I was like you , Anne.
“ He caught up with me on the road home, and
grinned as cheerfully as usual. But his grin could
never deceive me again. I had seen the real Jonas. I
wondered if he could ever see the real Phil — whom
nobody, not even you, Anne, has ever seen yet.
Jonas,' I said — I forgot to call him Mr. Blake.
Wasn't it dreadful ? But there are times when things
like that don't matter — Jonas, you were born to be a
minister. You couldn't be anything else.'
“ No, I couldn't,' he said soberly. ' I tried to be
something else for a long time I didn't want to be a
minister. But I came to see at last that it was the
work given me to do — and God helping me, I shall
try to do it.'
“ His voice was low and reverent. I thought that
he would do his work and do it well and nobly ; and
happy the woman fitted by nature and training to help
him do it. She would be no feather, blown about by
every fickle wind of fancy. She would always know
what hat to put on. Probably she would have only
one. Ministers never have much money. But she
wouldn't mind having one hat or none at all, because
she would have Jonas.
“ Anne Shirley, don't you dare to say or hint or
ENTER JONAS 213
think that I've fallen in love with Mr. Blake. Could I

care for a lank, poor, ugly theologue — named Jonas ?
As Uncle Mark says, ' It's impossible, and what's
more it's improbable.'
“ Good-night,
PHIL .”
“ P. S. It is impossible — but I am horribly afraid
it's true. I'm happy and wretched and scared. He
can never care for me, I know. Do you think I could
ever develop into a passable minister's wife, Anne ?
And would they expect me to lead in prayer ? P. G.”
CHAPTER XXV
ENTER PRINCE CHARMING
“ I'm contrasting the claims of indoors and out, ”

said Anne, looking from the window of Patty's Place
to the distant pines of the park.
“ I've an afternoon to spend in sweet doing nothing,
Aunt Jimsie. Shall I spend it here where there is a
cosy fire, a plateful of delicious russets, three purring
and harmonious cats, and two impeccable china dogs
with green noses ? Or shall I go to the park, where
there is the lure of gray woods and of gray water lap
ping on the harbour rocks? ”
“ If I was as young as you, I'd decide in favour of
the park , ” said Aunt Jamesina, tickling Joseph's yellow
ear with a knitting needle.
“ I thought that you claimed to be as young as any
of us, Aunty ," teased Anne.
“ ' Yes, in my soul. But I'll admit my legs aren't as
young as yours . You go and get some fresh air,
Anne . You look pale lately .”
“ I think I will go to the park ,” said Anne restlessly.
“ I don't feel like tame domestic joys to-day. I want
to feel alone and free and wild. The park will be
empty, for every one will be at the foot-ball match . ”
214
|
ENTER PRINCE CHARMING 215
Why didn't you go to it ? "

Nobody axed me, sir, she said,'— at least, no
body but that horrid little Dan Ranger. I wouldn't go
anywhere with him ; but rather than hurt his poor little
tender feelings I said I wasn't going to the game at all.
I don't mind. I'm not in the mood for foot -ball to
day somehow .”
“ You go and get some fresh air," repeated Aunt
Jamesina, “ but take your umbrella, for I believe it's
going to rain. I've rheumatism in my leg.”
“ Only old people should have rheumatism, Aunty. "
Anybody is liable to rheumatism in her legs, Anne.
It's only old people who should have rheumatism in
their souls, though. Thank goodness, I never have.
When you get rheumatism in your soul you might as
well go and pick out your coffin . ”
It was November the month of crimson sunsets,
parting birds, deep, sad hymns of the sea, passionate
wind-songs in the pines. Anne roamed through the
pineland alleys in the park and, as she said, let that
great sweeping wind blow the fogs out of her soul.
Anne was not wont to be troubled with soul fog. But,
somehow, since her return to Redmond for this third
year, life had not mirrored her spirit back to her with
its old, perfect, sparkling clearness.
Outwardly, existence at Patty's Place was the same
pleasant round of work and study and recreation that it
had always been. On Friday evenings the big, fire
lighted living-room was crowded by callers and echoed
to endless jest and laughter, while Aunt Jamesina
smiled beamingly on them all. The “ Jonas ” of Phil's

letter came often, running up from St. Columba on the
early train and departing on the late. He was a gen
eral favourite at Patty's Place, though Aunt Jamesina
shook her head and opined that divinity students were
not what they used to be.
“ He's very nice, my dear,” she told Phil, “ but min
isters ought to be graver and more dignified .”
“ Can't a man laugh and laugh and be a Christian
still ? ” demanded Phil.
“ Oh, men — yes. But I was speaking of ministers,
A
my dear,” said Aunt Jamesina rebukingly. of nd you
shouldn't flirt so with Mr. Blake you really
shouldn't.”
“ I'm not flirting with him ," protested Phil.
Nobody believed her, except Anne. The others
thought she was amusing herself as usual, and told her
roundly that she was behaving very badly.
“ Mr. Blake isn't of the Alec - and - Alonzo type,
9
Phil, ” said Stella severely. “ He takes things seri
ously. You may break his heart.”
“ Do you really think I could ? ” asked Phil. “ I'd
love to think so ."
“ Philippa Gordon ! I never thought you were ut
terly unfeeling. The idea of you saying you'd love to
break aa man's heart ! ”
“ I didn't say so, honey. Quote me correctly. I
said I'd like to think I could break it. I would like to
know I had the power to do it. ”
“ I don't understand you, Phil. You are leading
that man on deliberately — and you know you don't

mean anything by it."
“ I mean to make him ask me to marry him if I
can,” said Phil calmly.
“ I give you up ,” said Stella hopelessly.
Gilbert came occasionally on Friday evenings. He
seemed always in good spirits, and held his own in the
jests and repartee that flew about. He neither sought
nor avoided Anne. When circumstances brought
them in contact he talked to her pleasantly and courte
ously, as to any newly -made acquaintance. The old
camaraderie was gone entirely. Anne felt it keenly ;
but she told herself she was very glad and thankful
that Gilbert had got so completely over his disappoint
ment in regard to her. She had really been afraid,
that April evening in the orchard , that she had hurt
him terribly and that the wound would be long in
healing. Now she saw that she need not have wor
ried. Men have died and the worms have eaten them
but not for love. Gilbert evidently was in no danger
of immediate dissolution. He was enjoying life, and
he was full of ambition and zest.. For him there was
to be no wasting in despair because a woman was fair
and cold. Anne, as she listened to the ceaseless
badinage that went on between him and Phil, won
dered if she had only imagined that look in his eyes
when she had told him she could never care for him.
There were not lacking those who would gladly have
stepped into Gilbert's vacant place. But Anne snubbed
them without fear and without reproach. If the real
Prince Charming was never to come she would none of

a substitute. So she sternly told herself that gray day
in the windy park.
Suddenly the rain of Aunt Jamesina's prophecy
came with a swish and rush. Anne put up her um
brella and hurried down the slope. As she turned out
on the harbour road a savage gust of wind tore along
it. Instantly her umbrella turned wrong side out.
Anne clutched at it in despair. And then there
came a voice close to her :
“ Pardon me may I offer you the shelter of my
umbrella ? ”
Anne looked up. Tall and handsome and dis
tinguished-looking — dark, melancholy, inscrutable
-
eyes — melting, musical, sympathetic voice — yes, the

very hero of her dreams stood before her in the flesh .
He could not have more closely resembled her ideal if
he had been made to order .
“ Thank you,” she said confusedly.
“We'd better hurry over to that little pavilion on the
9
point,” suggested the unknown. We can wait there
until this shower is over. It is not likely to rain so
heavily very long.”
The words were very commonplace, but oh, the tone !
And the smile which accompanied them ! Anne felt
her heart beating strangely.
Together they scurried to the pavilion and sat breath
lessly down under its friendly roof. Anne laughingly
held up her false umbrella.
“ It is when my umbrella turns inside out that I am
convinced of the total depravity of inanimate things,”

she said gaily.
The rain drops sparkled on her shining hair ; its
loosened rings curled around her neck and forehead.
Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes big and starry. Her
companion looked down at her admiringly. She felt
herself blushing under his gaze. Who could he be ?
Why, there was a bit of the Redmond white and scarlet
pinned to his coat-lapel. Yet she had thought she
knew , by sight at least, all the Redmond students ex
cept the Freshmen. And this courtly youth surely was
no Freshman.
“ We are schoolmates, I see,” he said, smiling at
Anne's colours. “ That ought to be sufficient intro
duction. My name is Royal Gardner. And you are
the Miss Shirley who read the Tennyson paper at the
Philomathic the other evening, aren't you ? ”
66
Yes ; but I cannot place you at all, ” said Anne,
frankly. “ Please, where do you belong ? ”
“ I feel as if I didn't belong anywhere yet. I put in
my Freshman and Sophomore years at Redmond two
years ago.. I've been in Europe ever since. Now
I've come back to finish my Arts course .'
This is my Junior year, too,” said Anne.
So we are classmates as well as college-mates. I
am reconciled to the loss of the years that the locust
has eaten , ” said her companion, with a world of mean
ing in those wonderful eyes of his.
The rain came steadily down for the best part of an
hour. But the time seemed really very short. When
the clouds parted and a burst of pale November sun

shine fell athwart the harbour and the pines Anne and
her companion walked home together. By the time
they had reached the gate of Patty's Place he had asked
permission to call, and had received it. Anne went in
with cheeks of flame and her heart beating to her
finger -tips. Rusty, who climbed into her lap and tried
to kiss her, found a very absent welcome. Anne, with
her soul full of romantic thrills, had no attention to
spare just then for a crop -eared pussy cat.
That evening a parcel was left at Patty's Place for
Miss Shirley. It was a box containing a dozen mag
nificent roses . Phil pounced impertinently on the card
that fell from it, read the name and the poetical quota
tion written on the back.
Royal Gardner !” she exclaimed . “ Why, Anne,
I didn't know you were acquainted with Roy Gard
ner ! ”
“ I met him in the park this afternoon in the rain,"
explained Anne hurriedly. “ My umbrella turned in
side out and he came to my rescue with his."
“ Oh !” Phil peered curiously at Anne. “ And is
that exceedingly common -place incident any reason
why he should send us long -stemmed roses by the
dozen , with a very sentimental rhyme ? Or why we
should blush divinest rosy -red when we look at his
card ? Anne , thy face betrayeth thee.”
“ Don't talk nonsense, Phil. Do you know Mr.
Gardner ? ”
“ I've met his two sisters, and I know of him. So
does everybody worth while in Kingsport. The Gard

ners are among the richest, bluest, of Bluenoses. Roy
is adorably handsome and clever. Two years ago his
mother's health failed and he had to leave college and
go abroad with her — his father is dead. He must
have been greatly disappointed to have to give up his
vas perfec
class, but they say he was tly sweet about it.
perfectly
Fee — fi — fo— fum, Anne. I smell romance. Al
most do I envy you, but not quite. After all, Roy
Gardner isn't Jonas.”
“ You goose ! ” said Anne loftily. But she lay long
awake that night, nor did she wish for sleep. Her
waking fancies were more alluring than any vision

of dreamland . Had the real Prince come at last ?
Recalling those glorious dark eyes which had gazed
so deeply into her own, Anne was very strongly in
clined to think he had.
CHAPTER XXVI
ENTER CHRISTINE
The girls at Patty's Place were dressing for the re

ception which the Juniors were giving for the Seniors
in February. Anne surveyed herself in the mirror of
the blue room with girlish satisfaction. She had a
particularly pretty gown on. Originally it had been
only a simple little slip of cream silk with a chiffon
over-dress. But Phil had insisted on taking it home
with her in the Christmas holidays and embroidering
tiny rosebuds all over the chiffon. Phil's fingers were
deft, and the result was a dress which was the envy of
every Redmond girl. Even Allie Boone, whose frocks
came from Paris, was wont to look with longing eyes
on that rosebud concoction as Anne trailed up the main
staircase at Redmond in it.
Anne was trying the effect of a white orchid in her
hair. Roy Gardner had sent her white orchids for the
reception , and she knew no other Redmond girl would
have them that night — when Phil came in with admir
ing gaze .
“ Anne, this is certainly your night for looking hand
some. Nine nights out of ten I can easily outshine you.
The tenth you blossom out suddenly into something
that eclipses me altogether. How do you manage it ? ”
2022
ENTER CHRISTINE 223
* It's the dress, dear. Fine feathers.”

“ 'Tisn't. The last evening you flamed out into
beauty you wore your old blue flannel shirtwaist that
Mrs. Lynde made you. If Roy hadn't already lost
head and heart about you he certainly would to -night.
But I don't like orchids on you, Anne. No ; it isn't
jealousy. Orchids don't seem to belong to you .
They're too exotic —too too tropical — too insolent.
-
Don't put them in your hair, anyway.”

“ Well, I won't. I admit I'm not fond of orchids
myself. I don't think they're related to me. Roy
doesn't often send them - he knows I like flowers I
can live with. Orchids are only things you can visit
>
with .”
* Jonas sent me some dear pink rosebuds for the
evening —- but — he isn't coming himself. He said he
had to lead a prayer-meeting in the slums ! I don't
believe he wanted to come. Anne, I'm horribly afraid
Jonas doesn't really care anything about me. And I'm
trying to decide whether I'll pine away and die, or go
on and get my B.A. and be sensible and useful.”
You couldn't possibly be sensible and useful, Phil,
so you'd better pine away and die,” said Anne cruelly.
Heartless Anne ! ”
Silly Phil ! You know quite well that Jonas loves
you .”
“ But — he won't tell me so. And I can't make
him. He looks it, I'll admit. But speak -to -me-only .
with-thine-eyes isn't a really reliable reason for em
broidering doilies and hemstitching table-cloths. I
don't want to begin such work until I'm really en

gaged. It would be tempting Fate.”
“ Mr. Blake is afraid to ask you to marry him, Phil.
He is poor and can't offer you a home such as you've
always had. You know that is the only reason he
hasn't spoken long ago.”
“ I suppose so , " agreed Phil dolefully. “ Well ”
- brightening up — “ if he won't ask me to marry
him I'll ask him, that's all. So it's bound to come
right. II won't worry. By the way, Gilbert Blythe
is going about constantly with Christine Stuart. Did
>
you know ?"
Anne was trying to fasten a little gold chain about
her throat. She suddenly found the clasp difficult to
manage. What was the matter with it - or with her
fingers ?
" No, " she said carelessly. “ Who is Christine
Stuart ? ”
Ronald Stuart's sister. She's in Kingsport this
winter studying music. I haven't seen her, but they
say she's very pretty and that Gilbert is quite crazy
over her. How angry I was when you refused Gil
bert, Anne . But Roy Gardner was fore-ordained for
you. I can see that now. You were right, after
all.”
Anne did not blush, as she usually did when the
girls assumed that her eventual marriage to Roy Gard
ner was a settled thing. All at once she felt rather
dull. Phil's chatter seemed trivial and the reception
a bore. She boxed poor Rusty's ears.
ENTER CHRISTINE 225
“ Get off that cushion instantly, you cat, you ! Why

don't you stay down where you belong ? '”
Anne picked up her orchids and went down-stairs,
where Aunt Jamesina was presiding over a row of
coats hung before the fire to warm. Roy Gardner was
waiting for Anne and teasing the Sarah-cat while he
waited . The Sarah -cat did not approve of him. She
always turned her back on him. But everybody else
at Patty's Place liked him very much . Aunt Jamesina ,
carried away by his unfailing and deferential courtesy,
and the pleading tones of his delightful voice, declared
he was the nicest young man she ever knew , and that
Anne was a very fortunate girl. Such remarks made
Anne restive . Roy's wooing had certainly been as
romantic as girlish heart could desire, but — she
wished Aunt Jamesina and the girls would not take
things so for granted . When Roy murmured a poet
ical compliment as he helped her on with her coat, she
did not blush and thrill as usual ; and he found her
rather silent in their brief walk to Redmond . He
thought she looked a little pale when she came out of
the co - eds dressing-room ; but as they entered the re
ception -room her colour and sparkle suddenly returned
to her. She turned to Roy with her gayest expression .
He smiled back at her with what Phil called “ his deep,
black, velvety smile." Yet she really did not see Roy
at all. She was acutely conscious that Gilbert was
standing under the palms just across the room talking
to a girl who must be Christine Stuart.
She was very handsome, in the stately style destined
to become rather massive in middle life. A tall girl,

with large dark -blue eyes, ivory outlines, and a gloss
of darkness on her smooth hair.
“ She looks just as I've always wanted to look , "
thought Anne miserably. Rose-leaf complexion
starry violet eyes — raven hair — yes, she has them
all. it's aa wonder her name isn't Cordelia Fitzgerald
into the bargain ! But I don't believe her figure is
as good as mine, and her nose certainly isn't.”
Anne felt a little comforted by this conclusion.
CHAPTER XXVII
MUTUAL CONFIDENCES
MARCH came in that winter like the meekest ana

mildest of lambs, bringing days that were crisp and
golden and tingling, each followed by a frosty pink
twilight which gradually lost itself in an elfland of
moonshine.
Over the girls at Patty's Place was falling the
shadow of April examinations. They were studying
hard ; even Phil had settled down to text and note
books with a doggedness not to be expected of her.
“ I'm going to take the Johnson Scholarship in
>
Mathematics,” she announced calmly. “ I could take
the one in Greek easily, but I'd rather take the
mathematical one because I want to prove to Jonas that
I'm really enormously clever. "
* Jonas likes you better for your big brown eyes
and your crooked smile than for all the brains you
carry under your curls,” said Anne.
“ When I was a girl it wasn't considered lady -like
to know anything about Mathematics, ” said Aunt
Jamesina. “ But times have changed. I don't know
that it's all for the better. Can you cook , Phil ? ”
“ No, I never cooked anything in my life except a
ginger -bread and it was a failure — flat in the middle
227
and hilly round the edges. You know the kind. But,
Aunty, when I begin in good earnest to learn to cook
don't you think the brains that enable me to win a
mathematical scholarship will also enable me to learn
cooking just as well ? "
9
Maybe,” said Aunt Jamesina cautiously. “ I am
not decrying the higher education of women. My
daughter is an M.A. She can cook, too. But I taught
her to cook before I let a college professor teach her
Mathematics."
In mid -March came a letter from Miss Patty Spof
ford, saying that she and Miss Maria had decided to
remain abroad for another year.
“ So you may have Patty's Place next winter, too , ”
she wrote. * Maria and I are going to run over
Egypt. I want to see the Sphinx once before I die.”
Fancy those two dames ' running over Egypt '! I
wonder if they'll look up at the Sphinx and knit,”
laughed Priscilla.
“ I'm so glad we can keep Patty's Place for another
>
year,” said Stella. “ I was afraid they'd come back.
And then our jolly little nest here would be broken up
- and we poor callow nestlings thrown out on the
cruel world of boarding-houses again .”
I'm off for a tramp in the park ,” announced Phil,
tossing her book aside. “ I think when I am eighty
I'll be glad I went for a walk in the park to -night.”
“ What do you mean ? ” asked A .
“ Come with me and I'll tell you, honey .”
They captured in their ramble all the mysteries and
MUTUAL CONFIDENCES 299
magics of a March evening. Very still and mild it

was, wrapped in a great, white, brooding silence a -
silence which was yet threaded through with many

little silvery sounds which you could hear if you heark
ened as much with your soul as your ears. The girls
wandered down a long pineland aisle that seemed to
lead right out into the heart of a deep-red, overflow
ing winter sunset .
“' I'd go home and write a poem this blessed minute
if I only knew how , ” declared Phil, pausing in an open
space where a rosy light was staining the green tips of
the pines. “ It's all so wonderful here - this great,
white stillness , and those dark trees that always seem
»
to be thinking ."
‫و‬
“ The woods were God's first temples,'” quoted
Anne softly . One can't help feeling reverent and
adoring in such a place. I always feel so near Him
when I walk among the pines .”
Anne, I'm the happiest girl in the world,” con
fessed Phil suddenly.
“ So Mr. Blake has asked you to marry him at
last ? ” said Anne calmly.
“Yes. And I sneezed three times while he was ask
ing me. Wasn't that horrid ? But I said ' yes ' al
most before he finished — I was so afraid he might
change his mind and stop. I'm besottedly happy. I
couldn't really believe before that Jonas would ever
care for frivolous me.”
“ Phil, you're not really frivolous, ” said Anne
gravely. “ 'Way down underneath that frivolous ex
terior of yours you've got a dear, loyal, womanly little

soul. Why do you hide it so ? ”
“" I can't help it, Queen Anne. You are right
I'm not frivolous at heart. But there's a sort of friv
olous skin over my soul and I can't take it off. As
Mrs. Poyser says, I'd have to be hatched over again
and hatched different before I could change it. But
Jonas knows the real me and loves me, frivolity and all.
And I love him. I never was so surprised in my life
as I was when I found out I loved him. I'd never
thought it possible to fall in love with an ugly man.
Fancy me coming down to one solitary beau. And one
named Jonas ! But I mean to call him Jo. That's
such a nice, crisp little name. I couldn't nickname
Alonzo .”
“ What about Alec and Alonzo ? ”
Oh, I told them at Christmas that I never could
marry either of them . It seems so funny now to re
member that I ever thought it possible that I might.
They felt so badly I just cried over both of them .
howled. But I knew there was only one man in the

world I could ever marry. I had made up my own
mind for once and it was real easy, too. It's very de
lightful to feel so sure, and know it's your own sure
ness and not somebody else's.”
Do you suppose you'll be able to keep it up ? "
66
Making up my mind, you mean ? I don't know ,
but Jo has given me a splendid rule. He says, when
I'm perplexed, just to do what I would wish I had
done when I shall be eighty. Anyhow . Jo can make
up his mind quickly enough, and it would be uncom

fortable to have too much mind in the same house."
“ What will your father and mother say ? ”
Father won't say much. He thinks everything I
do right. But mother will talk. Oh, her tongue will
be as Byrney as her nose. But in the end it will be
all right .”
“ You'll have to give up a good many things you've
always had, when you marry Mr. Blake, Phil.”
“ But I'll have him . I won't miss the other things.
We're to be married a year from next June. Jo grad
uates from St. Columba this spring, you know. Then
he's going to take a little mission church down on Pat
terson Street in the slums. Fancy me in the slums !
But I'd go there or to Greenland's icy mountains with
him .”
And this is the girl who would never marry a man
who wasn't rich ," commented Anne to a young pine
tree .
" Oh, don't cast up the follies of my youth to me. I
shall be poor as gaily as I've been rich. You'll see.

I'm going to learn how to cook and make over dresses.
I've learned how to market since I've lived at Patty's
Place ; and once I taught a Sunday School class for a
whole summer . Aunt Jamesina says I'll ruin Jo's
career if I marry him. But I won't. I know ]
haven't much serise or sobriety, but I've got what is
-
ever so much better — the knack of making people like

me. There is a man in Bolingbroke who lisps and al
6
ways testifies in prayer-meeting. He says, “ If you

can't thine like an electric thtar thine like a candle

thtick. I'll be Jo's little candlestick.”
Phil, you're incorrigible. Well, I love you so
much that I can't make nice, light, congratulatory little
speeches. But I'm heart- glad of your happiness.”
“ I know. Those big gray eyes of yours are brim
ming over with real friendship, Anne. Some day I'll
look the same way at you. You're going to marry
Roy, aren't you, Anne ?? "
“ My dear Philippa, did you ever hear of the famous
Betty Baxter, who 6refused a man before he'd axed
her ' ? I am not going to emulate that celebrated lady
by either refusing or accepting any one before he
• axes ' me.”
“ All Redmond knows that Roy is crazy about you,”
said Phil candidly. “ And you do love him, don't
you , Anne ? ”"
9
“ I - I suppose so," said Anne reluctantly. She
felt that she ought to be blushing while making such a
confession ; but she was not ; on the other hand, she al
ways blushed hotly when any one said anything about
Gilbert Blythe or Christine Stuart in her hearing. Gil
bert Blythe and Christine Stuart were nothing to her
-
absolutely nothing. But Anne had given up trying

to analyze the reason of her blushes. As for Roy,
of course she was in love with him - madly so. How
could she help it ? Was he not her ideal? Who could
resist those glorious dark eyes, and that pleading voice ?
Were not half the Redmond girls wildly envious ?
And what a charming sonnet he had sent her, with a
box of violets, on her birthday ! Anne knew every

word of it by heart. It was very good stuff of its
kind, too. Not exactly up to the level of Keats or
Shakespeare even Anne was not so deeply in love
as to think that. But it was very tolerable magazine
verse . And it was addressed to her - not to Laura
or Beatrice or the Maid of Athens, but to her, Anne
Shirley. To be told in rhythmical cadences that her
eyes were stars of the morning that her cheek had
the flush it stole from the sunrise — that her lips were
redder than the roses of Paradise, was thrillingly
romantic. Gilbert would never have dreamed of writ
ing a sonnet to her eyebrows. But then, Gilbert could
see a joke. She had once told Roy a funny story -
and he had not seen the point of it. She recalled the
chummy laugh she and Gilbert had had together over
it, and wondered uneasily if life with a man who had
no sense of humour might not be somewhat uninter
esting in the long run. But who could expect a mel
ancholy, inscrutable hero to see the humorous side of
things ? It would be flatly unreasonable.
CHAPTER XXVIII
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 twilit orchard to
the front-door steps, where Marilla and Mrs. Rachel
were sitting, talking over Mrs. Samson Coates' fun
eral, which they had attended that day. Dora sat be
tween them , diligently studying her lessons ; but Davy
was sitting tailor-fashion 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 daresay ; but just now I feel that it would take
me a long time to get tired of it, if it were all as
charming as to- day. Everything loves June. Davy
boy, why this melancholy November face in blossom
time? ”
“ I'm just sick and tired of living," said the youth
ful pessimist.
“ At ten years ? Dear me, how sad ! ”
“ I'm not making fun,” said Davy with dignity.
“ I'm dis — dis — discouraged ” - bringing out the big
word with a valiant effort.
234
A JUNE EVENING 235
“Why and wherefore ? ” asked Anne, sitting down

beside him.
“ 'Cause the new teacher that come when Mr.
Holmes got sick give me ten sums to do for Monday.
It'll take me ail day to -morrow to do them. It isn't
fair to have to work Saturdays. Milty Boulter said
he wouldn't do them , but Marilla says 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. There is no nonsense about her.”
That doesn't sound very attractive,” laughed
Anne. “ I like people to have a little nonsense about
them. But I'm inclined 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. " To-morrow will bring another day '
and I'll help you with the sums as far as in me lies.
Don't waste this lovely hour 'twixt light and dark
worrying over arithmetic . ”
“ Well, I won't,” said Davy, brightening up. “ If
you help me with the sums I'll have 'em done in time
to go fishing with Milty. I wish old Aunt Atossa's
funeral was to-morrow instead of to-day. I wanted
to go to it 'cause Milty said his mother said Aunt
Atossa would be sure to rise up in her coffin and say
arcastic things to the folks that come to see her
buried . But Marilla said she didn't."
“ Poor Atossa laid 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 a mite."
It seems to me a most dreadful thing to go out of
the world and not leave one person behind you who is
sorry you are gone,” said Anne, shuddering.
Nobody except her parents ever loved poor Atossa,
that's certain, not even her husband," averred Mrs.
Lynde. “ She was his fourth wife. He'd sort of got
into the habit of marrying. He only lived a few years
after he married her. The doctor said he died of
dyspepsia, but I shall always maintain that he died of
Atossa's tongue, that's what. Poor soul, she always
knew everything about her neighbours, but she never
was very well acquainted with herself. Well, she's
gone anyhow ; and I suppose the next excitement will
be Diana's wedding."
“ It seems so funny and horrible to think of Diana's
being married ,” sighed Anne, hugging her knees and
looking through the gap in the Haunted Wood to the
light that was shining in Diana's room .
“ I don't see what's horrible about it, when she's
doing so well ,” said Mrs. Lynde emphatically. “ Fred
Wright has a fine farm and he is a model young
man .”
“ He certainly isn't the wild, dashing, wicked, young
man Diana once wanted to marry, " smiled Anne,
“ Fred is extremely good.
A JUNE EVENING 23T
“ That's just what he ought to be. Would you

want Diana to marry a wicked man ? Or marry one
yourself ? ”
“ Oh, no . I wouldn't want to marry anybody who
was 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 some day, I hope,” said
Marilla.
Marilla spoke rather bitterly. She was grievously
disappointed. She knew Anne had refused Gilbert
Blythe. 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 betrayed 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 Gil
bert's merry , young-hearted mother, was grieved in
secret over this. Marilla said nothing ; but Mrs.
Lynde gave Anne many exasperated digs about it, un
til fresh gossip reached that worthy lady, through the
medium of Moody Spurgeon MacPherson'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, though she still wished
in her inmost heart that Anne had accepted Gilbert.
Riches were all very well ; but even Mrs. Rachel, prac
tical soul though she was, did not consider them the
se essential. If Anne " liked " the Handsome Un
known 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 happens sometimes. I can't
help believing it's going to happen in Anne's case, if
Providence doesn't interfere, that's what.”
Mrs. Rachel sighed. She was afraid Providence
wouldn't interfere; and she didn't dare to.
Anne had wandered down to the Dryad's Bubble
and was curled up among the ferns at the root 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, 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 the queer, quick , painful bound at
sight of his letters which it had given one day when
Mrs. Hiram Sloane had handed her out an envelope ad
dressed in Gilbert's black, upright handwriting. Anne
had hurried home to the east-gable and opened it ea
gerly — to find a typewritten copy of some college
society report — “ only that and nothing more.”
A JUNE EVENING 239
Anne 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
gray house at Orchard Slope was in a turmoil of bak
ing 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, and Gilbert was coming from Kings
port to be best-man.. Anne was enjoying the excite
ment 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 com
panionship could never be theirs again . Anne looked
up at Diana's light and thought how it had beaconed to
her for many years ; but soon it would shine through
the summer twilights no more. Two big, painful tears
welled up in her gray eyes.
“ Oh,” she thought, “ how horrible it is that people
have to grow up – and marry — and change! ”
CHAPTER XXIX
DIANA'S WEDDING
“ AFTER all, the only real roses are the pink ones, ”
said Anne, as she tied white ribbon around Diana's
bouquet in the westward -looking gable at Orchard
9
Slope. “ They are the flowers of love and faith. ”

Diana was standing nervously in the middle of the
room , arrayed in her bridal white, her black curls
frosted over with the film of her wedding veil. Anne
had draped that veil, in accordance with the senti
mental compact of years before.
“It's all pretty much as I used to imagine it long
ago, when I wept over your inevitable marriage and
our consequent parting,” she laughed. “ You are the
bride of my dreams, Diana, with the lovely misty
veil'; and I am your bridesmaid. But, alas! I
haven't the puffed sleeves — though these short lace
ones are even prettier. Neither is my heart wholly
breaking nor do I exactly hate Fred. ”
“ We are not really parting, Anne,” protested Diana.
" I'm not going far away. We'll love each other just
as much as ever. We've always kept that ' oath ' of
friendship we swore long ago, haven't we? ”
“Yes. We've kept it faithfully. We've had a
beautiful friendship, Diana. We've never marred it
240
DIANA'S WEDDING 241
by one quarrel or coolness or unkind word ; and I hope

it will always be so. But things can't be quite the
same after this. You'll have other interests. I'll just
be on the outside . But ' such is life ' as Mrs. Rachel
says. Mrs. Rachel has given you one of her beloved
knitted quilts of the ' tobacco stripe ' pattern, and she
says when I am married she'll give me one, too."
The mean thing about your getting married is that
I won't be able to be your bridesmaid," lamented
Diana.
“ I'm to be Phil's bridesmaid next June, when she
marries Mr. Blake, and then I must stop, for you know
the proverb ' three times a bridesmaid, never a bride,'
said Anne, peeping through the window over the pink
and snow of the blossoming orchard beneath . “ Here
comes the minister, Diana."
Oh, Anne,” gasped Diana, suddenly turning very
pale and beginning to tremble. “ Oh, Anne — I'm so
nervous -
I can't go through with it — Anne, I know

I'm going to faint.”
“ If you do I'll drag you down to the rain -water
hogshead and drop you in ,” said Anne unsympatheti
cally. Cheer up, dearest. Getting married can't be
so very terrible when so many people survive the cere
mony. See how cool and composed I am , and take
courage.”
“ Wait till your turn comes, Miss Anne. Oh, Anne,
I hear father coming up-stairs. Give me my bouquet.
Is my veil right ? Am I very pale ? ”
“ You look just lovely. Di, darling, kiss me good ,
bye for the last time. Diana Barry will never kiss me
again.”
“ Diana Wright will, though. There, mother's
calling. Come.”
Following the simple, old-fashioned way in vogue
then, Anne went down to the parlour on Gilbert's arm.
They met at the top of the stairs for the first time
since they had left Kingsport, for Gilbert had arrived
only that day. Gilbert shook hands courteously. He
was looking very well, though , as Anne instantly noted ,
rather thin . He was not pale ; there was a flush on his
cheek that had burned into it as Anne came along the
dim hall towards him, in her soft, white dress with
lilies-of-the-valley in the shining masses of her hair .
As they entered the crowded parlour together a little
murmur of admiration ran around the room . What
a fine-looking pair they are, " whispered the impressible

Mrs. Rachel to Marilla.
Fred ambled in alone, with a very red face, and then
Diana swept in on her father's arm. She did not
faint, and nothing untoward occurred to interrupt the
ceremony. Feasting and merry -making followed ;
then, as the evening waned, Fred and Diana drove
away through the moonlight to their new home, and
Gilbert walked with Anne to Green Gables.
Something of their old comradeship had returned
during the informal mirth of the evening. Oh, it was
nice to be walking over that well-known road with Gil
bert again !
The night was so very still that one should have
DIANA'S WEDDING 243
been able to hear the whisper of roses in blossom — the

laughter of daisies — the piping of grasses many-
sweet sounds, all tangled up together. The beauty of

moonlight on familiar fields irradiated the world.
“ Can't we take a ramble up Lovers' Lane before
you go in ? ” asked Gilbert as they crossed the bridge
over the Lake of Shining Waters, in which the moon
lay like a great, drowned blossom of gold.
Anne assented readily. Lovers' Lane was a veri
table path in fairyland that night — a shimmering,
mysterious place, full of wizardry in the white-woven
enchantment of moonlight. There had been a time
when such a walk with Gilbert through Lovers' Lane
would have been far too dangerous. But Roy and
Christine had made it very safe now. Anne found
herself thinking a good deal about Christine as she
chatted lightly to Gilbert. She had met her several
times before leaving Kingsport, and had been charm
ingly sweet to her. Christine had also been charm
ingly sweet. Indeed,, they were a most cordial pair.
But for all that, their acquaintance had not ripened into
friendship. Evidently Christine was not a kindred
spirit.
66
Are you going to be in Avonlea all summer ? ”
asked Gilbert.
“ No. I'm going down east to Valley Road next
week .. Esther Haythorne wants me to teach for her
through July and August. They have a summer term
in that school, and Esther isn't feeling well. So I'm
going to substitute for her. In one way I don't mind.
Do you know , I'm beginning to feel a little bit like a

stranger in Avonlea now ? It makes me sorry — but
it's true. It's quite appalling to see the number of chil
dren who have shot up into big boys and girls — really
young men and women these past two years. Half
of my pupils are grown up. It makes me feel awfully
old to see them in the places you and I and our mates
used to fill.”
Anne laughed and sighed. She felt very old and
mature and wise — which showed how young she was.
She told herself that she longed greatly to go back to
those dear merry days when life was seen through a
rosy mist of hope and illusion, and possessed an in
definable something that had passed away forever.
Where was it now the glory and the dream ?
“ So wags the world away,' ” quoted Gilbert prac
tically, and a trifle absently. Anne wondered if he
were thinking of Christine. Oh, Avonlea was going to
be so lonely now with Diana gone!
CHAPTER XXX
MRS. SKINNER'S ROMANCE
ANNE stepped off the train at Valley Road station

and looked about to see if any one had come to meet
her. She was to board with a certain Miss Janet
Sweet, but she saw no one who answered in the least
to her preconception of that lady, as formed from
Esther's letter. The only person in sight was an eld
erly woman , sitting in a wagon with mail bags piled
around her. Two hundred would have been a chari
table guess at her weight; her face was as round and
red as a harvest-moon and almost as featureless. She
wore a tight, black, cashmere dress, made in the fash
ion of ten years ago, a little dusty black straw hat
trimmed with bows of yellow ribbon, and faded black
lace mits.
Here, you , " she called , waving her whip at Anne.
“ Are you the new Valley Road schoolma'am ? "
* Yes."
Well, I thought so. Valley Road is noted for its
good - looking schoolma’ams, just as Millersville is
noted for its humly ones. Janet Sweet asked me this
morning if I could bring you out. I said, ' Sartin I
kin, if she don't mind being scrunched up some. This
rig of mine's kinder small for the mail bags and I'm
245
some heftier than Thomas ! ' Just wait, miss, till I

shift these bags a bit and I'll tuck you in somehow .
It's only two miles to Janet's. Her next-door neigh
bour's hired boy is coming for your trunk to -night.
My name is Skinner — Amelia Skinner.”
-
Anne was eventually tucked in, exchanging amused

smiles with herself during the process.
" Jog along, black mare," commanded Mrs. Skinner,
gathering up the reins in her pudgy hands. “ This is
my first trip on the mail rowte . Thomas wanted to
hoe his turnips to-day so he asked me to come. So I
jest sot down and took a standing -up snack and started .
I sorter like it. O'course it's rather tejus. Part of
the time I sits and thinks and the rest I jest sits. Jog
along, black mare . I want to git home airly. Thomas
is terrible lonesome when I'm away. You see, we
haven't been married very long.”
“ Oh ! ” said Anne politely.
“ Just a month. Thomas courted me for quite a
spell, though. It was real romantic.”
Anne tried to picture Mrs. Skinner on speaking
terms with romance and failed.
“ Oh ? ” she said again .
“ Yes. Y'see, there was another man after me.
Jog along, black mare. I'd been a widder so long
folks had given up expecting me to marry again . But
when my darter she's a schoolma'am like you
went out West to teach I felt real lonesome and wasn't
nowise sot against the idea. Bime-by Thomas began to
come up and so did the other feller -
William Obadialı
MRS. SKINNER'S ROMANCE 247
Seaman, his name was. Fo •: a long time I couldn't

make up my mind which of them to take, and they
kep' coming and coming, and I kep' worrying. Y'see,
W. O. was rich - he had a fine place and carried con
siderable style. He was by far the best match.. Jog
along, black mare."
“ Why didn't you marry him ? " asked Anne.
Well, y’see, he didn't love me, ” answered Mrs.
Skinner, solemnly.
Anne opened her eyes widely and looked at Mrs.
Skinner. But there was not a glint of humour on that
lady's face. Evidently Mrs. Skinner saw nothing
amusing in her own case.
He'd been a widder-man for three years, and his
sister kept house for him. Then she got married and
he just wanted some one to look after his house. It
was worth looking after, too, mind you that. It's a
handsome house. Jog along, black mare.. As for
Thomas, he was poor, and if his house didn't leak in
dry weather it was about all that could be said for it,
though it looks kind of pictureaskew. But, y'see, I
loved Thomas, and I didn't care one red cent for W.O.
So I argued it out with myself. Sarah Crowe,' says
I— myfirst was a Crowe — you can marry your rich
man if you like but you won't be happy. Folks can't
get along together in this world without a little bit of
love. You'd just better tie up to Thomas, for he
loves you and you love him and nothing else ain't go
ing to do you.' Jog along, black mare. So I told
Thomas I'd take him. All the time I was getting
ready II never dared drive past W. O.'s place for fear

the sight of that fine house of his would put me in
the swithers again. But now I never think of it at all,
and I'm just that comfortable and happy with Thomas.
Jog alone, black mare.”
How did William Obadiah take it ? ” queried
Anne .
Oh, he rumpussed a bit. But he's going to see a
skinny old maid in Millersville now, and I guess she'll
take him fast enough. She'll make him a better wife
than his first did. W. O. never wanted to marry her.
He just asked her to marry him 'cause his father
wanted him to, never dreaming but that she'd say ‘ no.'
But mind you, she said ' yes. There was a predica
ment for you. Jog alone, black mare. She was a
great housekeeper , but most awful mean . She wore
the same bonnet for eighteen years .. Then she got a
new one and W. O. met her on the road and didn't
know her. Jog alone, black mare. I feel that I'd a
narrer escape. I might have married him and been
most awful miserable, like my poor cousin, Jane Ann.
Jane Ann married a rich man she didn't care anything
about, and she hasn't the life of a dog. She come to
see me last week and says, says she, Sarah Skinner, I
envy you. I'd rather live in a little hut on the side of
the road with a man I was fond of than in my big
house with the one I've got.' Jane Ann's man ain't
such a bad sort, nuther, though he's so contrary that he
wears his fur coat when the thermometer's at ninety,
The only way to git him to do anything is to coax him
MRS. SKINNER'S ROMANCE 249
to do the opposite. But there ain't any love to smooth

things down and it's a poor way of living. Jog along,
black mare . There's Janet's place in the hollow
'* Wayside,' she calls it. Quite pictureaskew, ain't it ?
I guess you'll be glad to git out of this, with all them
mail bags jamming round you ."
“ Yes, but I have enjoyed my drive with you very
much,” said Anne sincerely.
“ Git away now ! ” said Mrs. Skinner, highly flat
tered. “ Wait till I tell Thomas that. He always
feels dretful tickled when I git a compliment. Jog
along, black mare. Well, here we are. I hope you'll
git on well in the school, miss. There's a short cut to
it through the ma'sh back of Janet's. If you take that
way be awful keerful. If you once got stuck in that
black mud you'd be sucked right down and never seen
or heard tell of again till the day of judgment, like
Adam Palmer's cow. Jog along, black mare.”
CHAPTER XXXI
ANNE TO PHILIPPA
“ ANNE SHIRLEY to Philippa Gordon, greeting.

“ Well-beloved, it's high time I was writing you.
Here am I, installed once more as a country'school
ma’am ’ at Valley Road, boarding at ‘ Wayside, the
home of Miss Janet Sweet. Janet is a dear soul and
very nice -looking; tall, but not over-tall ; stoutish, yet
with a certain restraint of outline suggestive of a
thrifty soul who is not going to be over-lavish even in
the matter of avoirdupois. She has a knot of soft,
crimpy, brown hair with a thread of gray in it, a sunny
face with rosy cheeks, and big, kind eyes as blue as for
get-me-nots. Moreover, she is one of those delightful,
old-fashioned cooks who don't care a bit if they ruin
your digestion as long as they can give you feasts of
fat things .
“ I like her ; and she likes me principally, it seems,
because she had a sister named Anne who died young.
" I'm real glad to see you,' she said briskly, when I
landed in her yard. “ My, you don't look a mite like I
expected. I was sure you'd be dark — my sister Anne
was dark. And here you're red-headed ! '
“For a few minutes I thought I wasn't going to like
Janet as much as I had expected at first sight. Then
250
ANNE TO PHILIPPA 251
I reminded myself that I really must be more sensible

than to be prejudiced against any one simply because
she called my hair red. Probably the word ' auburn '
was not in Janet's vocabulary at all.
Wayside ' is аa. dear sort of little spot. The house
is small and white, set down in a delightful little hol
low that drops away from the road. Between road and
house is an orchard and flower -garden all mixed up to
gether. The front door walk is bordered with quahog
clam-shells — cow -hawks, Janet calls them ; there is
Virginia Creeper over the porch and moss on the roof.
My room is a neat little spot off the parlour'— just
big enough for the bed and me . Over the head of my
bed there is a picture of Robby Burns standing at
Highland Mary's grave, shadowed by an enormous
weeping willow tree. Robby's face is so lugubrious
that it is no wonder I have bad dreams. Why, the
first night I was here I dreamed I couldn't laugh.
The parlour is tiny and neat. Its one window is so
shaded by a huge willow that the room has a grotto
like effect of emerald gloom. There are wonderful
tidies on the chairs, and gay mats on the floor, and
books and cards carefully arranged on a round table,
and vases of dried grass on the mantel-piece. Between
the vases is a cheerful decoration of preserved coffin
plates — five in all, pertaining respectively to Janet's
father and mother, a brother, her sister Anne, and a
hired man who died here once ! If I go suddenly in
sane some of these days ‘ know all men by these pres-:
ents that those coffin -plates have caused it.
“ But it's all delightful and I said so. Janet loved

me for it, just as she detested poor Esther because
Esther had said so much shade was unhygienic and had
objected to sleeping on a feather bed. Now, I glory
in feather -beds, and the more unhygienic and feathery
they are the more I glory. Janet says it is such a com
fort to see me eat ; she had been so afraid I would be
like Miss Haythorne, who wouldn't eat anything but
fruit and hot water for breakfast and tried to make
Janet give up frying things. Esther is really a dear
girl, but she is rather given to fads. The trouble is
that she hasn't enough imagination and has a tendency
to indigestion .
Janet told me I could have the use of the parlour
when any young men called ! I don't think there are
many to call. I haven't seen a young man in Valley
Road yet, except the next-door hired boy - Sam Tol
-
liver, a very tall, lank, tow-haired youth. He came

over one evening recently and sat for an hour on the
garden fence, near the front porch where Janet and I
were doing fancy-work. The only remarks he volun
teered in all that time were, ‘ Hev a peppermint, miss !
Dew now fine thing for catarrh, peppermints,' and,
* Powerful lot o' jump- grasses round here ter-night.
Yep. '
But there is a love affair going on here. It seems
to be my fortune to be mixed up, more or less actively,
with elderly love affairs. Mr. and Mrs. Irving always
say that I brought about their marriage. Mrs. Stephen
Clark of Carmody persists in being most grateful to
ANNE TO PHILIPPA 253
me for a suggestion which somebody else would prob

ably have made if I hadn't. I do really think, though,
that Ludovic Speed would never have got any further
along than placid courtship if I had not helped him and
Theodora Dix out.
“ In the present affair I am only a passive spectator.
I've tried once to help things along and made an awful
mess of it. So I shall not meddle again. I'll tell you
all about it when we meet."
CHAPTER XXXII
TEA WITH MRS . DOUGLAS
On the first Thursday night of Anne's sojourn in

Valley Road Janet asked her to go to prayer-meeting.
Janet blossomed out like a rose to attend that prayer
meeting. She wore a pale-blue, pansy -sprinkled muslin
dress with more ruffles than one would ever have sup
posed economical Janet could be guilty of, and a white
leghorn hat with pink roses and three ostrich feathers
on it. Anne felt quite amazed. Later on she found
out Janet's motive in so arraying herself - a motive
as old as Eden .
Valley Road prayer-meetings seemed to be essentially
feminine. There were thirty -two women present, two
half- grown boys, and one solitary man, beside the min
ister. Anne found herself studying this man. He
was not handsome or young or graceful ; he had re
markably long legs so long that he had to keep them
coiled up under his chair to dispose of them and he
was stoop-shouldered. His hands were big, his hair
wanted barbering, and his moustache was unkempt.
But Anne thought she liked his face ; it was kind an
honest and tender ; there was something else in it,
too — just what, Anne found it hard to define. She
finally concluded that this man had suffered and been
254
TEA WITH MRS.. DOUGLAS 255
strong, and it had been made manifest in his face.

There was a sort of patient, humorous endurance in
his expression which indicated that he would go to the
stake if need be, but would keep on looking pleasant un
til he really had to begin squirming.
When prayer-meeting was over this man came up to
Janet and said,
“ May I see you home, Janet? ”
Janet took his arm as primly and shyly as if she
were no more than sixteen, having her first escort
home,” Anne told the girls at Patty's Place later on.
“ Miss Shirley, permit me to introduce Mr. Doug
las," she said stiffly.
Mr. Douglas nodded and said ,
“ I was looking at you in prayer -meeting, miss, and
thinking what a nice little girl you were.”
Such a speech from ninety-nine people out of a hun
dred would have annoyed Anne bitterly ; but the way
in which Mr. Douglas said it made her feel that she
had received a very real and pleasing compliment. She
smiled appreciatively at him and dropped obligingly be
hind on the moonlit road.
So Janet had a beau ! Anne was delighted. Janet
would make a paragon of a wife — cheery, economical,
tolerant, and a very queen of cooks. It would be a
flagrant waste on Nature's part to keep her a perma
nent old maid .
“ John Douglas asked me to take you up to see his
mother,” said Janet the next day. “ She's bed-rid a
lot of the time and never goes out of the house. But
she's powerful fond of company and always wants to

see my boarders. Can you go up this evening ? '
Anne assented ; but later in the day Mr. Douglas
called on his mother's behalf to invite them up to tea
on Saturday evening.
“ Oh, why didn't you put on your pretty pansy
dress ? ” asked Anne, when they left home. It was a
hot day, and poor Janet, between her excitement and
her heavy black cashmere dress, looked as if she were
being broiled alive.
“ Old Mrs. Douglas would think it terrible frivolous
and unsuitable, I'm afraid. John likes that dress,
though ,” she added wistfully.
The old Douglas homestead was half a mile from
“ Wayside ” cresting a windy hill. The house itself
was large and comfortable, old enough to be dignified,
and girdled with maple groves and orchards. There
were big, trim barns behind it, and everything bespoke
prosperity. Whatever the patient endurance in Mr.
Douglas' face had meant it hadn't, so Anne reflected ,
meant debts and duns.
John Douglas met them at the door and took them
into the sitting-room, where his mother was enthroned
in an arm -chair.
Anne had expected old Mrs. Douglas to be tall and
thin, because Mr. Douglas was. Instead, she was a
tiny scrap of a woman, with soft pink cheeks, mild blue
eyes, and a mouth like a baby's. Dressed in a beauti
ful, fashionably-made black silk dress, with a fluffy
white shawl over her shoulders, and her snowy hair
TEA WITH MRS . DOUGLAS 257
surmounted by a dainty lace cap, she might have posed

as a grandmother doll.
“ How do you do, Janet dear ? ” she said sweetly.
“ I am so glad to see you again, dear.” She put up
her pretty old face to be kissed. “ And this is our new
teacher . I'm delighted to meet you. My son has been
singing your praises until I'm half jealous, and I'm
sure Janet ought to be wholly so .”
Poor Janet blushed, Anne said something polite and
conventional, and then everybody sat down and made
talk. It was hard work, even for Anne, for nobody
seemed at ease except old Mrs. Douglas, who certainly
did not find any difficulty in talking. She made Janet
sit by her and stroked her hand occasionally. Janet
sat and smiled, looking horribly uncomfortable in her
hideous dress, and John Douglas sat without smil
ing.
At the tea-table Mrs. Douglas gracefully asked Janet
to pour the tea. Janet turned redder than ever but did
it. Anne wrote a description of that meal to Stella.
“ We had cold tongue and chicken and strawberry
preserves, lemon pie and tarts and chocolate cake and
raisin cookies and pound cake and fruit cake — and a
few other things, including more pie — caramel pie, I
.
think it was . After I had eaten twice as much as was

good for me, Mrs. Douglas sighed and said she feared
she had nothing to tempt my appetite.
“ • I'm afraid dear Janet's cooking has spoiled you
for any other,' she said sweetly. ' Of course nobody in
Valley Road aspires to rival her. Won't you have an
other piece of pie, Miss Shirley ? You haven't eaten

anything .'
* Stella, I had eaten a helping of tongue and one of
chicken, three biscuits, a generous allowance of pre
serves, a piece of pie, a tart, and a square of chocolate
cake ! ”
After tea Mrs. Douglas smiled benevolently and told
John to take “ dear Janet ” out into the garden and get
her some roses. “ Miss Shirley will keep me company
while you are out won't you ? ” she said plaintively.
-
She settled down in her arm-chair with a sigh.

“ I am a very frail old woman, Miss Shirley. For
over twenty years I've been a great sufferer. For
twenty long, weary years I've been dying by inches."
“ How painful! ” said Anne, trying to be sympa
thetic and succeeding only in feeling idiotic.
“ There have been scores of nights when they've
thought I could never live to see the dawn,” went on
Mrs. Douglas solemnly. “ Nobody knows what I've
gone through — nobody can know but myself. Well,
-
it can't last very much longer now. My weary pil

grimage will soon be over, Miss Shirley. It is a great
comfort to me that John will have such a good wife to
look after him when his mother is gone - a great com
fort, Miss Shirley .”
Janet is a lovely woman,” said Anne warmly.
* Lovely ! A beautiful character," assented Mrs.
Douglas. And a perfect housekeeper — something I
-
never was. My health would not permit it, Miss Shir

ley. I am indeed thankful that Tohn has made such a
TEA WITH MRS . DOUGLAS 259
wise choice. I hope and believe that he will be happy.

He is my only son, Miss Shirley, and his happiness lies
very near my heart."
“ Of course,” said Anne stupidly. For the first time
in her life she was stupid. Yet she could not imagine
why. She seemed to have absolutely nothing to say
to this sweet, smiling, angelic old lady who was patting
her hand so kindly.
“ Come and see me soon again , dear Janet,” said
Mrs. Douglas lovingly, when they left. You don't
come half often enough. But then I suppose John will
be bringing you here to stay all the time one of these
days."
Anne, happening to glance at John Douglas, as his
mother spoke, gave a positive start of dismay. He
looked as a tortured man might look when his tor
mentors gave the rack the last turn of possible en
durance. She felt sure he must be ill and hurried poor
blushing Janet away.
“ Isn't old Mrs. Douglas a sweet woman ? ” asked
Janet, as they went down the road.
“ M — m ," answered Anne absently. She was won
dering why John Douglas had looked so.
“ She's been a terrible sufferer,” said Janet feelingly.
“ She takes terrible spells. It keeps John all worried
up. He's scared to leave home for fear his mother
will take a spell and nobody there but the hired girl.”
CHAPTER XXXIII
HE JUST KEPT COMING AND COMING
THREE days later Anne came home from school and

found Janet crying. Tears and Janet seemed so in
congruous that Anne was honestly alarmed.
“ Oh ,, what is the matter ? " she cried anxiously.
“ I'm — I'm forty to -day,” sobbed Janet.
Well, you were nearly that yesterday and it didn't
hurt, ” comforted Anne, trying not to smile.
But — but,” went on Janet with a big gulp, “ John
>
Douglas won't ask me to marry him . ”
“ Oh, but he will,” said Anne lamely. “ You must
give him time, Janet.”
“ Time!” said Janet with indescribable scorn. “ He
has had twenty years. How much time does he
want? ”
“ Do you mean that John Douglas has been coming
to see you for twenty years ? ”
He has . And he has never so much as mentioned
marriage to me. And I don't believe he ever will now.
I've never said aa word to a mortal about it, but it seems
to me I've just got to talk it out with some one at last
or go crazy. John Douglas begun to go with me
twenty years ago , before mother died. Well, he kept
coming and coming, and after a spell I begun making
260
66 JUST KEPT COMING AND COMING ” 261
quilts and things ; but he never said anything about

getting married, only just kept coming and coming.
There wasn't anything I could do. Mother died when
we'd been going together for eight years. I thought
he maybe would speak out then, seeing as I was left
alone in the world. He was real kind and feeling, and
did everything he could for me, but he never said
marry. And that's the way it has been going on ever
since. People blame me for it. They say I won't
marry him because his mother is so sickly and I don't
want the bother of waiting on her. Why, I'd love to
wait on John's mother ! But I let them think so. I'd
rather they'd blame me than pity me ! It's so dread
ful humiliating that John won't ask me. And why
won't he ? Seems to me if I only knew his reason I
wouldn't mind it so much ."
“ Perhaps his mother doesn't want him to marry
anybody,” suggested Anne.
Oh, she does. She's told me time and again that
she'd love to see John settled before her time comes.
She's always giving him hints you heard her your
self the other day. I thought I'd ha' gone through the
floor.”
“ It's beyond me,” said Anne helplessly. She
thought of Ludovic Speed. But the cases were not
parallel. John Douglas was not a man of Ludovic's
type.
“ You should show more spirit, Janet,” she went on
resolutely. “ Why didn't you send him about his busi
ness long ago ? ”
“ I couldn't,” said poor Janet pathetically. “ You
see, Anne, I've always been awful fond of John. He
might just as well keep coming as not, for there was
never anybody else I'd want, so it didn't matter. "
“ But it might have made him speak out like a man ,”
urged Anne.
Janet shook her head.
“ No, I guess not. I was afraid to try, anyway, for
fear he'd think I meant it and just go. I suppose I'm
a poor -spirited creature, but that is how I feel. And
>
I can't help it.”
Oh, you could help it, Janet. It isn't too late yet.
Take a firm stand. Let that man know you are not
going to endure his shilly - shallying any longer. I'll
back you up.”
“ I dunno,” said Janet hopelessly. “ I dunno if I
could ever get up enough spunk. Things have drifted
so long. But I'll think it over.”
Anne felt that she was disappointed in John Doug
las. She had liked him so well, and she had not
thought him the sort of man who would play fast and
loose with a woman's feelings for twenty years. He
certainly should be taught a lesson, and Anne felt
vindictively that she would enjoy seeing the process.
Therefore she was delighted when Janet told her, as
they were going to prayer-meeting the next night, that
she meant to show some sperrit."
“ I'll let John Douglas see I'm not going to be trod
den on any longer.”
“ You are perfectly right,” said Anne emphatically
56 JUST KEPT COMING AND COMING ” 263
When prayer -meeting was over John Douglas came

up with his usual request. Janet looked frightened but
resolute.
No, thank you,” she said icily. “ I know the road
home pretty well alone. I ought to, seeing I've been
travelling it for forty years. So you needn't trouble
>
yourself, Mr. Douglas.”
Anne was looking at John Douglas ; and, in that bril
liant moonlight, she saw the last twist of the rack again.
Without a word he turned and strode down the road.
“ Stop! Stop !” Anne called wildly after him, not
caring in the least for the other dumbfoundered on
lookers. “ Mr. Douglas, stop ! Come back .”
John Douglas stopped but he did not come back.
Anne flew down the road, caught his arm and fairly
dragged him back to Janet.
“ You must come back ,” she said imploringly. “ It's
all a mistake, Mr. Douglas — all my fault. I made
Janet do it. She didn't want to — but it's all right
-
now, isn't it, Janet ? ”

Without a word Janet took his arm and walked
away. Anne followed them meekly home and slipped
in by the back door.
“ Well, you are a nice person to back one up,” said
Janet sarcastically.
“ I couldn't help it, Janet,” said Anne repentantly.
“ I just felt as if I had stood by and seen murder done.
I had to run after him ."
Oh, I'm just as glad you did. When I saw John
Douglas making off down that road I just felt as if
every little bit of joy and happiness that was left in my

life was going with him. It was an awful feeling ”
“ Did he ask you why you did it ? " asked Anne.
“ No, he never said a word about it,” replied Janet
dwly.
CHAPTER XXXIV
JOHN DOUGLAS SPEAKS AT LAST
ANNE was not without a feeble hope that something

might come of it after all. But nothing did. John
Douglas came and took Janet driving, and walked
home from prayer-meeting with her, as he had been
doing for twenty years, and as he seemed likely to do
for twenty years more. The summer waned . Anne
taught her school and wrote letters and studied a little.
Her walks to and from school were pleasant. She al
ways went by way of the swamp ; it was a lovely place
- a boggy soil, green with the greenest of mossy
-
hillocks ; a silvery brook meandered through it and

spruces stood erectly, their boughs a-trail with gray
green mosses, their roots overgrown with all sorts of
woodland lovelinesses.
Nevertheless, Anne found life in Valley Road aa little
monotonous. To be sure, there was one diverting in
cident.
She had not seen the lank, tow -headed Samuel of
the peppermints since the evening of his call, save for
chance meetings on the road. But one warm August
night he appeared, and solemnly seated himself on the
rustic bench by the porch. He wore his usual working
205
habiliments, consisting of vari-patched trousers, a blue

jean shirt, out at the elbows, and a ragged straw hat.
He was chewing a straw and he kept on chewing it
while he looked solemnly at Anne. Anne laid her book
aside with a sigh and took up her doily. Conversation
with Sam was really out of the question.
After a long silence Sam suddenly spoke.
“ I'm leaving over there,” he said abruptly, waving
his straw in the direction of the neighbouring house.
“ Oh, are you ? ” said Anne politely.
“ Yep."
And where are you going now ?
Wall, I've been thinking some of gitting aa place
of my own. There's one that'd suit me over at Millers
ville. But ef I rents it I'll want a woman .”
“ I suppose so , " said Anne vaguely.
“ Yep."
There was another long silence. Finally Sam re
moved his straw again and said,
“ Will yeh hev me? ”
“ Wh — a — t ! ” gasped Anne.
“ Will yeh hey me? ”
Do you mean - marry you ? ” queried poor Anne
feebly.
Yep . ”
Why, I'm hardly acquainted with you,” cried Anne
indignantly.
“ But yeh'd git acquainted with me after we was
married ,” said Sam .
Anne gathered up her poor dignity.
JOHN DOUGLAS SPEAKS AT LAST 267
Certainly I won't marry you , ” she said haughtily.
Wall, yeh might do worse," expostulated Sam.
“ I'm a good worker and I've got some money in the
bank.”
“Don't speak of this to me again . Whatever put
such an idea into your head ? ” said Anne, her sense
of humour getting the better of her wrath. It was
such an absurd situation.
“ Yeh're a likely-looking girl and hev a right-smart
way o'stepping,” said Sam. “ I don't want no lazy
woman . Think it over . I won't change my mind yit
awhile. Wall, I must be gitting. Gotter milk the
cows."
Anne's illusions concerning proposals had suffered
so much of late years that there were few of them left.
So she could laugh whole-heartedly over this one, not
feeling any secret sting. She mimicked poor Sam to
Janet that night, and both of them laughed immoder
ately over his plunge into sentiment.
One afternoon, when Anne's sojourn in Valley Road
was drawing to a close, Alec Ward came driving down
to “ Wayside ” in hot haste for Janet.
They want you at the Douglas place quick,” he
said. “ I really believe old Mrs. Douglas is going to
die at last, after pretending to do it for twenty years.”
Janet ran to get her hat. Anne asked if Mrs.
Douglas was worse than usual.
“ She's not half as bad , ” said Alec solemnly, “ and
that's what makes me think it's serious. Other times
she'd be screaming and throwing herself all over the
place. This time she's !ying still and mum. When

Mrs. Douglas is mum she is pretty sick, you bet.”
“ You don't like old Mrs. Douglas ?” said Anne
curiously .
“ I like cats as is cats. I don't like cats as is
women ,” was Alec's cryptic reply.
Janet came home in the twilight.
“ Mrs. Douglas is dead,” she said wearily. “ She
died soon after I got there. She just spoke to me once
– I suppose you'll marry John now ? ' she said. It
cut me to the heart, Anne. To think John's own
mother thought I wouldn't marry him because of her !
I couldn't say a word either there were other women
there. I was thankful John had gone out."
Janet began to cry drearily. But Anne brewed her
a hot drink of ginger tea to her comforting. To be
sure, Anne discovered later on that she had used white
pepper instead of ginger ; but Janet never knew the dif
ference.
The evening after the funeral Janet and Anne were
sitting on the front porch steps at sunset. The wind
had fallen asleep in the pinelands and lurid sheets of
heat-lightning flickered across the northern skies.
Janet wore her ugly black dress and looked her very
worst, her eyes and nose red from crying. They
talked little, for Janet seemed faintly to resent Anne's
efforts to cheer her up. She plainly preferred to be
miserable.
Suddenly the gate-latch clicked and John Douglas
strode into the garden. He walked towards them
straight over the geranium bed . Janet stood up. So

did Anne. Anne was a tall girl and wore a white
dress ; but John Douglas did not see her.
" Janet,” he said, “ will you marry me ?
The words burst out as if they had been wanting to
be said for twenty years and must be uttered now, be
fore anything else.
Janet's face was so red from crying that it couldn't
turn any redder, so it turned aa most unbecoming purple.
Why didn't you ask me before ? ” she said slowly.
“ I couldn't. She made me promise not to -
-
mother made me promise not to. Nineteen years ago

she took a terrible spell. We thought she couldn't live
through it. She implored me to promise not to ask you
to marry me while she was alive. I didn't want to
promise such a thing, even though we all thought she
couldn't live very long — the doctor only gave her six
months. But she begged it on her knees, sick and
suffering. I had to promise .”
66
What had your mother against me ? ” cried Janet.
Nothing — nothing. She just didn't want an
other woman any woman -
there while she was liv
ing. She said if I didn't promise she'd die right there
and I'd have killed her. So I promised. And she's
held me to that promise ever since, though I've gone
on my knees to her in my turn to beg her to let me
off .”
Why didn't you tell me this ? " asked Janet chok
ingly. “ If I'd only known ! Why didn't you just
tell me? "
She made me promise I wouldn't tell a soul, ” said

John hoarsely. “ She swore me to it on the Bible ;
Janet, I'd never have done it if I'd dreamed it was to
be for so long. Janet, you'll never know what I've
suffered these nineteen years. I know I've made you
suffer, too, but you'll marry me for all, won't you,
Janet ? Oh, Janet, won't you ? I've come as soon as I
could to ask you .”
At this moment the stupified Anne came to her
senses and realized that she had no business to be
there. She slipped away and did not see Janet until
the next morning, when the latter told her the rest of
the story.
“ That cruel, relentless, deceitful old woman ! ” cried
Anne.
Hush she's dead,” said Janet solemnly. “ If
.
she wasn't — but she is. So we mustn't speak evil of

-
her. But I'm happy at last, Anne. And I wouldn't

have minded waiting so long a bit if I'd only known
why .”
“ When are you to be married ? "
“ Next month. Of course it will be very quiet.
I suppose people will talk terrible. They'll say I made
enough haste to snap John up as soon as his poor
mother was out of the way. John wanted to let them
know the truth but I said, “ No, John ; after all she was
your mother, and we'll keep the secret between us,
and not cast any shadow on her memory. I don't
mind what people say, now that I know the truth my
self. It don't matter a mite. Let it all be buried with
the dead,' says I to him. So I coaxed him round to

agree with me.”
“ You're much more forgiving than I could ever
be,” Anne said, rather crossly.
“You'll feel differently about a good many things
when you get to be my age,” said Janet tolerantly.
“ That's one of the things we learn as we grow older
– how to forgive. It comes easier at forty than it
did at twenty .”
CHAPTER XXXV
THE LAST REDMOND YEAR OPENS
"HERE we are, all back again, nicely sunburned

and rejoicing as a strong man to run a race," said
Phil, sitting down on a suit-case with a sigh of pleas
ure.
“ Isn't it jolly to see this dear old Patty's Place
-
again — and Aunty — and the cats ? Rusty has lost

another piece of ear, hasn't he ? "
Rusty would be the nicest cat in the world if he
had no ears at all,” declared Anne loyally from her
trunk, while Rusty writhed about her lap in a frenzy
of welcome.
Aren't you glad to see us back, Aunty ? " demanded
Phil.
“ Yes. But I wish you'd tidy things up, ” said Aunt
Jamesina plaintively, looking at the wilderness of
trunks and suit-cases by which the four laughing, chat
tering girls were surrounded. “ You can talk just as
well later on. Work first and then play used to be my
motto when I was a girl.”
“ Oh, we've just reversed that in this generation ,
Aunty. Our motto is play your play and then dig in.
You can do your work so much better if you've had
a good bout of play first. ”
272
THE LAST REDMOND YEAR OPENS 273
“ If you are going to marry a minister,” said Aunt

Jamesina, picking up Joseph and her knitting and re
signing herself to the inevitable with the charming
grace that made her the queen of house-mothers, “ you
will have to give up such expressions as ' dig in.
" Why ? ” moaned Phil. “ Oh, why must a minis
ter's wife be supposed to utter only prunes and prisms ?
I shan't. Everybody on Patterson Street uses slang
.
that is to say, metaphorical language — and if I

didn't they would think me insufferably proud and
stuck up.”
“ Have you broken the news to your family ? ” asked
Priscilla, feeding the Sarah-cat bits from her lunch
basket.
Phil nodded.
“ How did they take it ? ”
Oh, mother rampaged. But I stood rock -firm
even I, Philippa Gordon, who never before could hold
fast to anything. Father was calmer. Father's own
daddy was a minister, so you see he has a soft spot
in his heart for the cloth. I had Jo up to Mount
Holly, after mother grew calm, and they both loved
him. But mother gave him some frightful hints in
every conversation regarding what she had hoped for
me. Oh, my vacation pathway hasn't been exactly
strewn with roses, girls dear. But — I've won out
and I've got Jo. Nothing else matters."
“ To you,” said Aunt Jamesina darkly.
Nor to Jo, either,” retorted Phil. “ You keep on
pitying him. Why, pray ? I think he's to be envied.
He's getting brains, beauty, and a heart of gold in
ME.”
“ It's well we know how to take your speeches,”
said Aunt Jamesina patiently. “ I hope you don't
talk like that before strangers. What would they
think ? ”
Oh, I don't want to know what they think. I
don't want to see myself as others see me. I'm sure
it would be horribly uncomfortable most of the time.
I don't believe Burns was really sincere in that prayer,
either.”
“ Oh, I daresay we all pray for some things that
we really don't want, if we were only honest enough
to look into our hearts,” owned Aunt Jamesina can
didly. “ I've a notion that such prayers don't rise
very far. I used to pray that I might be enabled to
forgive a certain person, but I know now I really
didn't want to forgive her. When I finally got that
I did want to I forgave her without having to pray
about it.”
“ I can't picture you as being unforgiving for long,"
said Stella.
“ Oh, I used to be. But holding spite doesn't seem
>
worth while when you get along in years .”
“That reminds me, ” said Anne, and told the tale
of John and Janet.
And now tell us about that romantic scene you
hinted so darkly at in one of your letters," demanded
Phil.
Anne acted out Samuel's proposal with great spirit.
The girls shrieked with laughter and Aunt Jamesina

smiled.
“ It isn't in good taste to make fun of your beaux, ”
she said severely ; “ but,” she added calmly, “ I al
ways did it myself.”
“ Tell us about your beaux, Aunty,” entreated Phil.
You must have had any number of them .”
They're not in the past tense, ” retorted Aunt
Jamesina. “ I've got them yet. There are three old
widowers at home who have been casting sheep's eyes
at me for some time. You children needn't think
you own all the romance in the world .”
“ Widowers and sheep's eyes don't sound very
romantic, Aunty.”
" Well, no ; but young folks aren't always romantic
either.. Some of my beaux certainly weren't. I used
to laugh at them scandalous, poor boys. There was
-
Jim Elwood — he was always in a sort of day-dream
— never seemed to sense what was going on. He
didn't wake up to the fact that I'd said ' no ' till a
year after I'd said it. When he did get married his
wife fell out of the sleigh one night when they were
driving home from church and he never missed her.
Then there was Dan Winston. He knew too much .
He knew everything in this world and most of what
is in the next. He could give you an answer to any
question, even if you asked him when the Judgment
Day was to be. Milton Edwards was real nice and
I liked him but I didn't marry him. For one thing,
he took a week to get a joke through his head, and for,
another he never asked me. Horatio Reeve was the

most interesting beau I ever had. But when he told a
story he dressed it up so that you couldn't see it for
frills. I never could decide whether he was lying or
just letting his imagination run loose.”
“ And what about the others, Aunty ? ”
“Go away and unpack ,” said Aunt Jamesina, waving
Joseph at them by mistake for a needle. “ The others
were too nice to make fun of. I shall respect their
memory. There's a box of flowers in your room ,
Anne. They came about an hour ago."
After the first week the girls of Patty's Place settled
down to a steady grind of study ; for this was their
last year at Redmond and graduation honours must
be fought for persistently. Anne devoted herself to
English, Priscilla pored over classics, and Philippa
pounded away at Mathematics. Sometimes they grew
tired, sometimes they felt discouraged, sometimes
nothing seemed worth the struggle for it. In one
such mood Stella wandered up to the blue room one
rainy November evening. Anne sat on the floor in a
little circle of light cast by the lamp beside her, amid
a surrounding snow of crumpled manuscript.
What in the world are you doing ? ”
“ Just looking over some old Story Club yarns. I
wanted something to cheer and inebriate. I'd studied
until the world seemed azure. So I came up here and
dug these out of my trunk. They are so drenched in
tears and tragedy ťnat they are excruciatingly funny.”
“ I'm blue and discouraged myself,” said Stella,
throwing herself on the couch. “ Nothing seems

worth while. My very thoughts are old. I've
thought them all before. What is the use of living
after all, Anne? ”
Honey, it's just brain fag that makes us feel
that way, and the weather. A pouring rainy night
like this, coming after a hard day's grind, would
squelch any one but a Mark Tapley. You know it is
worth while to live.”
“ Oh, I suppose so. But I can't prove it to myself
just now .”
“ Just think of all the great and noble souls who
have lived and worked in the world ,” said Anne
dreamily. Isn't it worth while to come after them
and inherit what they won and taught ? And think
of all the great people in the world to-day ! Isn't it
worth while to think we can share their inspiration ?
And then, all the great souls that will come in the
future ? Isn't it worth while to work a little and
prepare the way for them .
make just one step in
their path easier ? ”
“ Oh, my mind agrees with you, Anne. But my
soul remains doleful and uninspired. I'm always
grubby and dingy on rainy nights."
Some nights I like the rain — I like to lie in bed 5
and hear it pattering on the roof and drifting through

the pines.”
9
I like it when it stays on the roof,” said Stella.
“ It doesn't always. I spent a gruesome night in an
old country farm-house last summer. The roof leaked
and the rain came pattering down on my bed. There

was no poetry in thał. I had zo get up in the ‘ mirk
midnight ' and chivy round to pull the bedstead out of
the drip — and it was one of those solid, old-fashioned
beds that weigh a ton - more or less. And then that
-
drip-drop, drip-drop kept up all night until my nerves

just went to pieces. You've no idea what an eerie
noise a great drop of rain falling with a mushy thud on
a bare floor makes in the night. It sounds like ghostly
footsteps and all that sort of thing. What are you
laughing over, Anne?? ”
“ These stories. As Phil would say they are kill
ing -
in more senses than one, for everybody died in
them . What dazzlingly lovely heroines we had –
and how we dressed them ! Silks satins velvets -
- jewels — laces — they never wore anything else.

Here is one of Jane Andrews' stories depicting ner
heroine as sleeping in a beautiful white satin night
dress trimmed with seed pearls.”
“ Go on,” said Stella. “ I begin to feel that life is
worth living as long as there's a laugh in it.”
Here's one I wrote. My heroine is disporting
herself at a ball ' glittering from head to foot with
large diamonds of the first water. But what booted
beauty or rich attire ? “ The paths of glory lead but to
the grave. They must either be murdered or die of a
broken heart.. There was no escape for them . ”
“ Let me read some of your stories.”
“ Well, here's my masterpiece. Note its cheerful
title — My Graves.' I shed quarts of tears while writ-.
ing it, and the other girls shed gallons while I read
it. Jane Andrews' mother scolded her frightfully be
cause she had so many handkerchiefs in the wash that
week. It's a harrowing tale of the wanderings of a
Methodist minister's wife. I made her a Methodist
because it was necessary that she should wander.
She buried a child every place she lived in. There
were nine of them and their graves were severed far
apart, ranging from Newfoundland to Vancouver. 1
described the children, pictured their several death
beds, and detailed their tombstones and epitaphs. I
had intended to bury the whole nine but when I had
disposed of eight my invention of horrors gave out
and I permitted the tenth to live as a hopeless cripple."
While Stella read My Graves, punctuating its tragic
paragraphs with chuckles, and Rusty slept the sleep
of a just cat who has been out all night curled up on a
Jane-Andrews tale of a beautiful maiden of fifteen
who went to nurse in a leper colony — of course dy
-
ing of the loathsome disease finally — Anne glanced

over the other manuscripts and recalled the old days at
Avonlea school when the members of the Story Club,
sitting under the spruce trees or down among the
ferns by the brook, had written them .What fun they
had had ! How the sunshine and mirth of those olden
summers returned as she read. Not all the glory that
was Greece or the grandeur that was Rome could
weave such wizardry as those funny, tearful tales of
the Story Club. Among the manuscripts Anne found
pne written on sheets of wrapping paper. A wave of
laughter filled her gray eyes as she recalled the time

and place of its genesis. It was the sketch she had
written the day she fell through the roof of the Cobb
duckhouse on the Tory Road.
Anne glanced over it, then fell to reading it in
tently. It was a little dialogue between asters and
sweet- peas, wild canaries in the lilac bush, and the
guardian spirit of the garden . After she had read it,
she sat, staring into space ; and when Stella had gone
she smoothed out the crumpled manuscript.
“ I believe I will, ” she said resolutely.
CHAPTER XXXVI
THE GARDNERS' CALL
“ HERE is a letter with an Indian stamp for you,

66
Aunt Jimsie,” said Phil. " Here are three for Stella,
and two for Pris, and a glorious fat one for me from
Jo. There's nothing for you, Anne, except a cir
cular.”
Nobody noticed Anne's flush as she took the thin
letter Phil tossed her carelessly. But a few minutes
later Phil looked up to see a transfigured Anne.
>
Honey, what good thing has happened ? '
The Youth's Friend has accepted a little sketch I
sent them a fortnight ago,” said Anne, trying hard to
speak as if she were accustomed to having sketches ac
cepted every mail, but not quite succeeding.
“ Anne Shirley ! How glorious! What was it ?
When is it to be published ? Did they pay you for
it ? ”
“Yes ; they've sent a check for ten dollars, and the
editor writes that he would like to see more of my
work. Dear man, he shall. It was an old sketch I
found in my box. I re-wrote it and sent it in — but
I never really thought it could be accepted because it
had no plot,” said Anne, recalling the bitter experi
ences of Averils Atonement.
281
What are you going to do with that ten dollars,

Anne ? Let's all go up town and get drunk ,” sug
gested Phil.
“ I am going to squander it in a wild soulless revel
of some sort,” declared Anne gaily. “ At all events
it isn't tainted money like the check I got for that
-
horrible Reliable Baking Powder story. I spent it

usefully for clothes and hated them every time I put
them on .”
66
Think of having a real live author at Patty's
Place ," said Priscilla.
“ It's a great responsibility,” said Aunt Jamesina
solemnly.
“ Indeed it is,” agreed Pris with equal solemnity.
“ Authors are kittle cattle. You never know when or
how they will break out. Anne may make copy of
US. ”
“ I meant that the ability to write for the Press was
a great responsibility,” said Aunt Jamesina severely ;
“ and I hope Anne realizes it. My daughter used to
write stories before she went to the foreign field , but
now she has turned her attention to higher things.
She used to say her motto was ‘ Never write a line
you would be ashamed to read at your own funeral.'
You'd better take that for yours, Anne, if you are go
ing to embark in literature. Though, to be sure,”
added Aunt Jamesina perplexedly, “ Elizabeth always
used to laugh when she said it. She always laughed
so much that I don't know how she ever came to de
cide on being a missionary. I'm thankful she did —
THE GARDNERS' CALL 283
I prayed that she might — but — I wish she hadn't.”

Then Aunt Jamesina wondered why those giddy
girls all laughed.
Anne's eyes shone all that day ; literary ambitions
sprouted and budded in her brain ; their exhilaration
accompanied her to Jennie Cooper's walking party,
and not even the sight of Gilbert and Christine, walk
ing just ahead of her and Roy, could quite subdue the
sparkle of her starry hopes. Nevertheless, she was
not so rapt from things of earth as to be unable to
notice that Christine's walk was decidedly ungraceful.
“ But I suppose Gilbert looks only at her face. So
like a man,” thought Anne scornfully.
“ Shall you be home Saturday afternoon ? ” asked
Roy.
Yes.”
“ My mother and sisters are coming to call on you ,"
said Roy quietly.
Something went over Anne which might be de
scribed as a thrill, but it was hardly a pleasant one.
She had never met any of Roy's family ; she realized
the significance of his statement ; and it had, somehow,
an irrevocableness about it that chilled her.
“ I shall be glad to see them ,” she said flatly ; and
then wondered if she really would be glad. She ought
to be, of course. But would it not be something of an
ordeal ? Gossip had filtered to Anne regarding the
light in which the Gardners viewed the “ infatuation '
of son and brother. Roy must have brought pressure
to bear in the matter of this call. Anne knew she
would be weighed in the balance. From the fact that

they had consented to call she understood that, will
ingly or unwillingly, they regarded her as a possible
member of their clan .
“ I shall just be myself. I shall not try to make a
good impression,” thought Anne loftily. But she was
wondering what dress she would better wear Saturday
afternoon, and if the new style of high hair-dressing
would suit her better than the old ; and the walking
party was rather spoiled for her. By night she had
decided that she would wear her brown chiffon on
Saturday, but would do her hair low.
Friday afternoon none of the girls had classes at
Redmond. Stella took the opportunity to write a
paper for the Philomathic Society, and was sitting at
the table in the corner of the living-room with an un
tidy litter of notes and manuscript on the floor around
her. Stella always vowed she never could write any
thing unless she threw each sheet down as she com
pleted it. Anne, in her flannel blouse and serge skirt,
with her hair rather blown from her windy walk
home, was sitting squarely in the middle of the floor,
teasing the Sarah-cat with a wish-bone. Joseph and
Rusty were both curled up in her lap. A warm
plummy odour filled the whole house, for Priscilla was
cooking in the kitchen . Presently she came in, en
shrouded in a huge work-apron, with a smudge of
flour on her nose, to show Aunt Jamesina the chocolate
cake she had just iced.
At this auspicious moment the knocker sounded
Nobody paid any attention to it save Phil, who sprang

up and opened it, expecting a boy with the hat she had
bought that morning. On the doorstep stood Mrs.
Gardner and her daughters.
Anne scrambled to her feet somehow, emptying two
indignant cats out of her lap as she did so, and
mechanically shifting her wish -bone from her right
hand to her left. Priscilla, who would have had to
cross the room to reach the kitchen door, lost her
head, wildly plunged the chocolate cake under a
cushion on the ingle-nook sofa, and dashed up-stairs.
Stella began feverishly gathering up her manuscript.
Only Aunt Jamesina and Phil remained normal.
Thanks to them, everybody was soon sitting at ease,
even Anne. Priscilla came down, apronless and
smudgeless, Stella reduced her corner to decency, and
Phil saved the situation by a stream of ready small
talk.
Mrs. Gardner was tall and thin and handsome, ex
quisitely gowned, cordial with a cordiality that seemed
a trifle forced. Aline Gardner was a younger edition
of her mother, lacking the cordiality. She en
deavoured to be nice, but succeeded only in being
naughty and patronizing. Dorothy Gardner was slim
and jolly and rather tomboyish . Anne knew she was
Roy's favourite sister and warmed to her. She would
have looked very much like Roy if she had had dreamy
dark eyes instead of roguish hazel ones. Thanks to her
and Phil, the call really went off very well, except for a
slight sense of strain in the atmosphere and two rather
untoward incidents. Rusty and Joseph, left to them

selves, began a game of chase, and sprang madly into
Mrs. Gardner's silken lap and out of it in their wild
career. Mrs. Gardner lifted her lorgnette and gazed
after their flying forms as if she had never seen cats
before, and Anne, choking back slightly nervous laugh
ter, apologized as best she could.
“ You are fond of cats ? ” said Mrs. Gardner, with
a slight intonation of tolerant wonder.
Anne, despite her affection for Rusty, was not espe
cially fond of cats, but Mrs. Gardner's tone annoyed
her. Inconsequently she remembered that Mrs. John
Blythe was so fond of cats that she kept as many as
her husband would allow.
“ They are adorable animals, aren't they ? ” she said
wickedly.
“ I have never liked cats,” said Mrs. Gardner re
motely.
“ I love them ,” said Dorothy. “ They are so nice
and selfish. Dogs are too good and unselfish . They
make me feel uncomfortable. But cats are gloriously
human .”
“ You have two delightful old china dogs there.
May I look at them closely ? ” said Aline, crossing the
room towards the fireplace and thereby becoming the
unconscious cause of the other accident. Picking up
Magog, she sat down on the cushion under which was
secreted Priscilla's chocolate cake. Priscilla and
Anne exchanged agonized glances but could do noth
ing. The stately Aline continued to sit on the cushion
and discuss china dogs until the time of departure.

Dorothy lingered behind a moment to squeeze
Anne's hand and whisper impulsively.
“ I know you and I are going to be chums. Oh,
Roy has told me all about you. I'm the only one of
the family he tells things to, poor boy — nobody could
confide in mamma and Aline, you know. What glori
ous times you girls must have here ! Won't you let
me come often and have a share in them ? ”
“ Come as often as you like,” Anne responded heart
ily, thankful that one of Roy's sisters was likable.
She would never like Aline, so much was certain ; and
Aline would never like her, though Mrs. Gardner
might be won. Altogether, Anne sighed with relief
when the ordeal was over.
“ Of all sad words of tongue or pen
The saddest are it might have been ,' ”
quoted Priscilla tragically, lifting the cushion . 66 This
cake is now what you might call a flat failure. And
the cushion is likewise ruined. Never tell me that
Friday isn't unlucky. ”
“ People who send word they are coming on Satur
day shouldn't come on Friday,” said Aunt Jamesina.
66
I fancy it was Roy's mistake, ” said Phil. “ That
boy isn't really responsible for what he says when he
talks to Anne. Where is Anne? "
Anne had gone up-stairs. She felt oddly like cry
ing But she made herself laugh instead. Rusty and
Joseph had been too awful! And Dorothy was a
dear.
CHAPTER XXXVII
FULL -FLEDGED B.A.'s
“ I WISH I were dead, or that it were to-morrow

night,” groaned Phil.
“' If you live long enough both wishes will come
true,” said Anne calmly.
“ It's easy for you to be serene.
serene. You're at home in
Philosophy. I'm not — and when I think of that
-
horrible paper to-morrow II quail. If I should fail in

it what would Jo say ? "
“ You won't fail. How did you get on in Greek
to -day ? ”
“ I don't know. Perhaps it was a good paper and
perhaps it was bad enough to make Homer turn over
in his grave. I've studied and mulled over notebooks
until I'm incapable of forming an opinion of anything.
How thankful little Phil will be when all this exam
inating is over .”
Examinating ? I never heard such a word.”
“Well, haven't I as good a right to make a word
as any one else ? ” demanded Phil.
“ Words aren't made — they grow ," said Anne.
Never mind — I begin faintly to discern clear
water ahead where no examination breakers loom.
Girls, do you - can you realize that our Redmond life
is almost over ? "
288
FULL - FLEDGED B.A.'S 289
>
“ I can't,” said Anne, sorrowfully . “ It seems just
yesterday that Pris and I were alone in that crowd of
Freshmen at Redmond. And now we are Seniors in
>
our final examinations."
6
“ • Potent, wise, and reverend Seniors,' ” quoted
Phil. “ Do you suppose we really are any wiser than
when we came to Redmond ? ”
“ You don't act as if you were by times ,” said Aunt
Jamesina severely.
Oh, Aunt Jimsie, haven't we been pretty good girls,
take us by and large, these three winters you've moth
ered us ? ” pleaded Phil.
“ You've been four of the dearest, sweetest, good
est girls that ever went together through college, ”
averred Aunt Jamesina, who never spoiled a compli
ment by misplaced economy. “ But I mistrust you
haven't any too much sense yet. It's not to be ex
pected, of course. Experience teaches sense. You
can't learn it in a college course. You've been to
college four years and I never was, but I know heaps
more than you do, young ladies.”
“ • There are lots of things that never go by rule,
There's a powerful pile o' knowledge
That you never get at college,
There are heaps of things you never learn at school,' ”
quoted Stella.
“ Have you learned anything at Redmond except
dead languages and geometry and such trash ? ” queried
Aunt Jamesina
Oh, yes. II think we have,, Aunty,” protested

Anne.
“ We've learned the truth of what Professor Wood
leigh told us last Philomathic," said Phil. “ He said,
‘ Humour is the spiciest condiment in the feast of ex
istence. Laugh at your mistakes but learn from them,
joke over your troubles but gather strength from them ,
make a jest of your difficulties but overcome them.'
Isn't that worth learning, Aunt. Jimsie ? ”
' Yes, it is, dearie. When you've learned to laugh
at the things that should be laughed at, and not to
laugh at those that shouldn't, you've got wisdom and
understanding.”
“ What have you got out of your Redmond course,
Anne ? ” murmured Priscilla aside .
“ I think,”, said Anne slowly, “ that I really have
learned to look upon each little hindrance as a jest and
each great one as the foreshadowing of victory. Sum
ming up, I think that is what Redmond has given me.”
“ I shall have to fall back on another Professor
Woodleigh quotation to express what it has done for
me,” said Priscilla. “ You remember that he said in
his address, “ There is so much in the world for us all
if we only have the eyes to see it, and the heart to love
it, and the hand to gather it to ourselves — so much
in men and women, so much in art and literature, so
much everywhere in which to delight, and for which to
be thankful.' I think Redmond has taught me that in
some measure, Anne."
“ Judging from what you all say,” remarked Aunt
FULL -FLEDGED B.A.'S 291
Jamesina, “ the sum and substance is that you can

learn — if you've got natural gumption enough — in-
four years at college what it would take about twenty

years of living to teach you. Well, that justifies
higher education in my opinion. It's a matter I was
always dubious about before."
But what about people who haven't natural gump
tion, Aunt Jimsie ? ”
* People who haven't natural gumption never
learn ,” retorted Aunt Jamesina, “ neither in college
or life. If they live to be a hundred they really don't
know anything more than when they were born. It's
their misfortune not their fault, poor souls. But those
of us who have some gumption should duly thank the
Lord for it. '
Will you please define what gumption is, Aunt
Jimsie ? " asked Phil.
“ No, I won't, young woman. Any one who has
gumption knows what it is, and any one who hasn't
can never know what it is . So there is no need of de
fining it.”
The busy days flew by and examinations were over .
Anne took High Honours in English. Priscilla took
Honours in Classics, and Phil in Mathematics. Stella
obtained a good all-round showing. Then came Con
vocation .
“ This is what I would once have called an epoch in
my life,” said Anne, as she took Roy's violets out of
their box and gazed at them thoughtfully. She meant
to carry them, of course . but her eyes wandered to an
other box on her table. It was filled with lilies-of-the

valley, as fresh and fragrant as those which bloomed in
the Green Gables yard when June came to Avonlea.
Gilbert Blythe's card lay beside it.
Anne wondered why Gilbert should have sent her
flowers for Convocation. She had seen very little of
him during the past winter. He had come to Patty's
Place only one Friday evening since the Christmas
holidays, and they rarely met elsewhere. She knew
he was studying very hard, aiming at High Honours
and the Cooper Prize, and he took little part in the
social doings of Redmond. Anne's own winter had
been quite gay socially. She had seen a good deal of
the Gardners ; she and Dorothy were very intimate ;
college circles expected the announcement of her en
gagement to Roy any day. Anne expected it herself.
Yet just before she left Patty's Place for Convocation
she flung Roy's violets aside and put Gilbert's lilies-of
the- valley in their place. She could not have told
why she did it. Somehow, old Avonlea days and
dreams and friendships seemed very close to her in
this attainment of her long - cherished ambitions. She
and Gilbert had once pictured out rerrily the day on
which they should be capped and gowned graduates in
Arts. The wonderful day had come and Roy's violets
had no place in it. Only her old friend's flowers
seemed to belong to this fruition of old -blossoming
hopes which he had once shared.
For years this day had beckoned and allured to her ;
but when it came the one single, keen, abiding memory
FULL - FLEDGED B.A.PS 298
it left with her was not that of the breathless moment

when the stately president of Redmond gave her cap
and diploma and hailed her B.A.; it was not of the
flash in Gilbert's eyes when he saw her lilies, nor the
puzzled pained glance Roy gave her as he passed her
on the platform . It was not of Aline Gardner's con
descending congratulations, or Dorothy's ardent, im
pulsive good wishes. It was of one strange, unac
countable pang that spoiled this long -expected day for
her and left in it a certain faint but enduring flavour
of bitterness.
The Arts graduates gave a graduation dance that
night. When Anne dressed for it she tossed aside
the pearl beads she usually wore and took from her
trunk the small box that had come to Green Gables on
Christmas day. In it was a thread -like gold chain with
a tiny pink enamel heart as a pendant. On the ac
companying card was written, “ With all good wishes
from your old chum ,Gilbert.” Anne, laughing over the
memory the enamel heart conjured up of the fatal day
when Gilbert had called her “ Carrots ” and vainly tried
to make his peace with a pink candy heart, had writ
ten him aa nice little note of thanks. But she had never
worn the trinket. To-night she fastened it about her
white throat with a dreamy smile.
She and Phil walked to Redmond together. Anne
walked in silence ; Phil chattered of many things.
Suddenly she said,
“ I heard to-day that Gilbert Blythe's engagement
to Christine Stuart was to be announced as soon as
Convocation was over. Did you hear anything of

it ? "
“ No,” said Anne.
“ I think it's true," said Phil lightly.
Anne did not speak. In the darkness she felt her
face burning. She slipped her hand inside her collar
and caught at the gold chain. One energetic twist and
it gave way. Anne thrust the broken trinket into her
pocket. Her hands were trembling and her eyes were
smarting
But she was the gayest of all the gay revellers that
night, and told Gilbert unregretfully that her card was
full when he came to ask her for a dance. Afterwards,
when she sat with the girls before the dying embers
at Patty's Place, removing the spring chilliness from
their satin skins, none chatted more blithely than she
of the day's events.
“ Moody Spurgeon MacPherson called here to -night
after you left,” said Aunt Jamesina, who had sat up
to keep the fire on. “ He didn't know about the
graduation dance. That boy ought to sleep with a
rubber band around his head to train his ears not to
stick out. I had a beau once who did that and it im
proved him immensely. It was I who suggested it to
him and he took my advice, but he never forgave me
for it."
“ Moody Spurgeon is a very serious young man,”
yawned Priscilla. “ He is concerned with graver
matters than his ears. He is going to be a minister,
you know .”
FULL - FLEDGED B.A.PS 295
“ Well, I suppose the Lord doesn't regard the ears

of aa man ,” said Aunt Jamesina gravely, dropping ali
further criticism of Moody Spurgeon. Aunt Jame
sina had a proper respect for the cloth even in the
case of an unfledged parson.
CHAPTER XXXVIII
FALSE DAWN
“ Just imagine -- this night week I'll be in Avonlea

- delightful thought!” said Anne, bending over the
box in which she was packing Mrs. Rachel Lynde's
quilts. But just imagine — this night week I'll be
gone forever from Patty's Place horrible thought !
“ I wonder if the ghost of all our laughter will echo
through the maiden dreams of Miss Patty and Miss
Maria , " speculated Phil.
Miss Patty and Miss Maria were coming home, after
having trotted over most of the habitable globe.
“ We'll be back the second week in May," wrote
Miss Patty. “ I expect Patty's Place will seem rather
small after the Hall of the Kings at Karnak, but I
never did like big places to live in. And I'll be glad
enough to be home again. When you start travelling
late in life you're apt to do too much of it because you/
know you haven't much time left, and it's a thing that
grows on you. I'm afraid Maria will never be con
tented again.”
“ I shall leave here my fancies and dreams to bless
the next comer," said Anne, looking around the blue
room wistfully - her pretty blue room where she had
-
296
FALSE DAWN 297
spent three such happy years. She had knelt at its

window to pray and had bent from it to watch the sun
set behind the pines. She had heard the autumn rain
drops beating against it and had welcomed the spring
robins at its sill. She wondered if old dreams could
haunt rooms — if, when one left forever the room
where she had joyed and suffered and laughed and
wept, something of her, intangible and invisible, yet
none the less real, did not remain behind like a voice
ful memory .
“ I think,” said Phil, “ that a room where one dreams
and grieves and rejoices and lives becomes inseparably
connected with those processes and acquires a person
ality of its own. I am sure if I came into this room
fifty years from now it would say “ Anne, Anne ' to
me . What nice times we've had here, honey ! What
chats and jokes and good chummy jamborees ! Oh,
dear me ! I'm to marry Jo in June and I know I will
be rapturously happy. But just now I feel as if I
wanted this lovely Redmond life to go on forever.”
“ I'm unreasonable enough just now to wish that,
too,” admitted Anne. “ No matter what deeper joys
may come to us later on we'll never again have just
the same delightful, irresponsible existence we've had
here. It's over forever, Phil.”
What are you going to do with Rusty ? ” asked
Phil, as that privileged pussy padded into the room.
“ I am going to take him home with me and Joseph
and the Sarah -cat, ” announced Aunt Jamesina, follow
ing Rusty. “ It would be a shame to separate those
cats now that they have learned to live together. It's

a hard lesson for cats and humans to learn ."
“ I'm sorry to part with Rusty ,” said Anne regret
fully, “ but it would be no use to take him to Green
Gables.. Marilla detests cats, and Davy would tease
his life out. Besides, I don't suppose I'll be home very
long. I've been offered the principalship of the Sum
merside High School.”
“ Are you going to accept it ? ” asked Phil.
“ I— I haven't decided yet,” answered Anne, with
a confused flush .
Phil nodded understandingly. Naturally Anne's
plans could not be settled until Roy had spoken . He
would soon there was no doubt of that. And there
was no doubt that Anne would say “ yes ” when he
said “" Will you, please ? ” Anne herself regarded the
state of affairs with a seldom -ruffled complacency.
She was deeply in love with Roy. True, it was not
just what she had imagined love to be. But was any
thing in life, Anne asked herself wearily, like one's
imagination of it ? It was the old diamond disillusion
of childhood repeated — the same disappointment she
had felt when she had first seen the chill sparkle in
stead of the purple splendour she had anticipated.
“ That's not my idea of a diamond , ” she had said.
But Roy was a dear fellow and they would be very
happy together, even if some indefinable zest was miss
ing out of life. When Roy came down that evening
and asked Anne to walk in the park every one at
Patty's Place knew what he had come to say ; and
FALSE DAWN 299
every one knew, or thought they knew , what Anne's

answer would be.
“ Anne is a very fortunate girl,” said Aunt Jame
sina.
“ I suppose so , " said Stella, shrugging her shoulders.
Roy is aa nice fellow and all that. But there's really
nothing in him .”
" That sounds very like a jealous remark, Stella
Maynard,” said Aunt Jamesina rebukingly.
“ It does — but I am not jealous,” said Stella
-
calmly. “ I love Anne and I like Roy. Everybody

says she is making a brilliant match, and even Mrs.
Gardner thinks her charming now. It all sounds as if
it were made in heaven, but I have my doubts. Make
the most of that, Aunt Jamesina."
Roy asked Anne to marry him in the little pavilion
on the harbour shore where they had talked on the
rainy day of their first meeting. Anne thought it
very romantic that he should have chosen that spot.
And his proposal was as beautifully worded as if he
had copied it, as one of Ruby Gillis' lovers had done,
out of a Deportment of Courtship and Marriage.
The whole effect was quite flawless. And it was also
sincere. There was no doubt that Roy meant what he
said. There was no false note to jar the symphony.
Anne felt that she ought to be thrilling from head to
foot. But she wasn't ; she was horribly cool. When
Roy paused for his answer she opened her lips to say
her fateful yes.
And then she found herself trembling as if she,
were reeling back from a precipice. To her came one

of those moments when we realize, as by a blinding
flash of illumination , more than all our previous years
have taught us. She pulled her hand from Roy's.
Oh, I can't marry you — I can't — I can't,” she
-
cried, wildly.
Roy turned pale — and also looked rather foolish.
He had - small blame to him
.
felt very sure.
“What do you mean ? ” he stammered.
“ I mean that I can't marry you,” repeated Anne
desperately. “ I thought I could — but I can't.”
-
Why can't you ? ” Roy asked more calmly.

“ Because — I don't care enough for you .”
-
A crimson streak came into Roy's face.

“ So you've just been amusing yourself these two
years? ” he said slowly.
“ No, no, I haven't,” gasped poor Anne. Oh, how
could she explain ? She couldn't explain. There are
some things that cannot be explained. “ I did think
I cared — truly I did — but I know now I don't.”
“You have ruined my life, ” said Roy bitterly.
Forgive me, " pleaded Anne miserably, with hot
cheeks and stinging eyes.
Roy turned away and stood for aa few minutes look
ing out seaward. When he came back to Anne, he
was very pale again.
“ You can give me no hope ? ” he said .
Anne shook her head mutely.
“ Then — good-bye,” said Roy. “ I can't under
stand it - I can't believe you are not the woman I've
FALSE DAWN 301
believed you to be.. But reproaches are idle between

us .
You are the only woman I can ever love. I
thank you for your friendship , at least . Good -bye,
Anne."
Good-bye,” faltered Anne. When Roy had gone
she sat for a long time in the pavilion, watching a white
mist creeping subtly and remorselessly landward up
the harbour. It was her hour of humiliation and self
contempt and shame. Their waves went over her.
And yet, underneath it all, was a queer sense of re
covered freedom .
She slipped into Patty's Place in the dusk and es
caped to her room. But Phil was there on the win
dow seat.
Wait,” said Anne, flushing to anticipate the scene.
“Wait till you hear what I have to say.. Phil, Roy
asked me to marry him and I refused .”
“ Yo u you refused him ? ” said Phil blankly.
.
“ Yes.”
“ Anne Shirley, are you in your senses ? ”
“ I think so ,” said Anne wearily. “ Oh, Phil, don't
scold me. You don't understand.”
“ I certainly don't understand. You've encouraged
Roy Gardner in every way for two years — and now
.
you tell me you've refused him. Then you've just

been flirting scandalously with him. Anne, I couldn't
‫ور‬
have believed it of you."
" I wasn't flirting with him— I honestly thought I
cared up to the last minute - and then — well, I just
knew I never could marry him ."
“ I suppose,” said Phil cruelly, " that you intended

to marry him for his money, and then your better self
rose up and prevented you."
“ I didn't. I never thought about his money. Oh,
I can't explain it to you any more than I could to
>
him ."
“Well, I certainly think you have treated Roy
shamefully,” said Phil in exasperation. “ He's hand
some and clever and rich and good. What more do
you want ? ”
“ I want some one who belongs in my life. He
doesn't. I was swept off my feet at first by his good
looks and knack of paying romantic compliments ; and
later on I thought I must be in love because he was my
dark - eyed ideal.”
“ I am bad enough for not knowing my own mind,
but you are worse, " said Phil.
I do know my own mind,” protested Anne. • The
trouble is, my mind changes and then I have to get ac
quainted with it all over again.”
“ Well, I suppose there is no use in saying anything
to you. "
There is no need, Phil. I'm in the dust. This
has spoiled everything backwards. I can never think
of Redmond days without recalling the humiliation of
this evening. Roy despises me —- and you despise me
- and I despise myself.”
“ You poor darling,” said Phil, melting. “ Just
come here and let me comfort you. I've no right to
scold you. I'd have married Alec or Alonzo if I
FALSE DAWN 303
hadn't met Jo.

. Oh, Anne, things are so mixed-up in
real life. They aren't clear-cut and trimmed off, as
they are in novels.”
I hope that no one will ever again ask me to marry
him as long as I live,” sobbed poor Anne, devoutly be
lieving that she meant it.
CHAPTER XXXIX
DEALS WITH WEDDINGS
ANNE felt that life partook of the nature of an anti

climax during the first few weeks after her return to
Green Gables. She missed the merry comradeship of
Patty's Place. She had dreamed some brilliant dreams
during the past winter and now they lay in the dust
around her. In her present mood of self-disgust, she
could not immediately begin dreaming again. And
she discovered that, while solitude with dreams is glori
ous, solitude without them has few charms.
She had not seen Roy again after their painful part
ing in the park pavilion ; but Dorothy came to see her
before she left Kingsport.
" I'm awfully sorry you won't marry Roy,” she said.
" I did want you for a sister. But you are quite right.
He would bore you to death. I love him, and he is
a dear sweet boy, but really he isn't a bit interesting.
He looks as if he ought to be, but he isn't.”
This won't spoil our friendship, will it, Doro
thy ” Anne had asked wistfully.
?
“ No, indeed. You're too good to lose. If I can't
have you for a sister I mean to keep you as a chum
anyway . And don't fret over Roy. He is feeling ter
304
DEALS WITH WEDDINGS 305
ribly just now — I have to listen to his out-pourings

every day — but he'll get over it. He always does.”
Oh – always ? ” said Anne with a slight change
of voice. “ So he has got over it ' before ? ”
‫و‬
“ Dear me, yes,” said Dorothy frankly. “ Twice
before. And he raved to me just the same both times.
Not that the others actually refused him they simply
announced their engagements to some one else. Of
course, when he met you he vowed to me that he had
never really loved before that the previous affairs
had been merely boyish fancies. But I don't think you
need worry .”
Anne decided not to worry. Her feelings were a
mixture of relief and resentment. Roy had certainly
told her she was the only one he had ever loved. No
doubt he believed it. But it was a comfort to feel
that she had not, in all likelihood, ruined his life.
There were other goddesses, and Roy, according to
Dorothy, must needs be worshipping at some shrine.
Nevertheless, life was stripped of several more illu
sions, and Anne began to think drearily that it seemed
rather bare.
She came down from the porch gable on the evening
of her return with a sorrowful face.
What has happened to the old Snow Queen, Ma
rilla ? ”
Oh, I knew you'd feel bad over that, ” said Marilla.
“ I felt bad myself. That tree was there ever since I
was a young girl. It blew down in the big gale we
had in March. It was rotten at the core."
I'll miss it so , ” grieved Anne. The porch gable

doesn't seem the same room without it. I'll never look
from its window again without a sense of loss. And
oh, I never came home to Green Gables before that
Diana wasn't here to welcome me.”
“ Diana has something else to think of just now ,”
said Mrs. Lynde significantly.
“ Well, tell me all the Avonlea news,” said Anne,
sitting down on the porch steps, where the evening
sunshine fell over her hair in aa fine golden rain.
There isn't much news except what we've wrote
you ," said Mrs. Lynde. “ I suppose you haven't heard
that Simon Fletcher broke his leg last week . It's a
great thing for his family. They're getting a hundred
things done that they've always wanted to do but
couldn't as long as he was about, the old crank . ”
He came of an aggravating family,” remarked
Marilla.
Aggravating ? Well, rather ! His mother used
to get up in prayer -meeting and tell all her children's
shortcomings and ask prayers for them. 'Course it
made them mad, and worse than ever.'
>
“ You haven't told Anne the news about Jane," sug
gested Marilla.
Oh, Jane,” sniffed Mrs. Lynde. “ Well,” she con
ceded grudgingly, “ Jane Andrews is home from the
West — came last week — and she's going to be mar
- -
ried to a Winnipeg millionaire. You may be sure

Mrs. Harmon lost no time in telling it far and
wide.”
“ Dear old Jane — I'm so glad,” said Anne heartily.

She deserves the good things of life. ”
“ Oh , I ain't saying anything against Jane. She's a
nice enough girl. But she isn't in the millionaire class,
and you'll find there's not much to recommend that man
but his money, that's what. Mrs. Harmon says he's
an Englishman who has made money in mines but I
believe he'll turn out to be a Yankee. He certainly
must have money, for he has just showered Jane with
jewelry. Her engagement ring is a diamond cluster
so big that it looks like a plaster on Jane's fat
paw .”
Mrs. Lynde could not keep some bitterness out of
her tone. Here was Jane Andrews, that plain little
plodder, engaged to a millionaire, while Anne, it
seemed, was not yet bespoken by any one, rich or poor.
And Mrs. Harmon Andrews did brag insufferably.
What has Gilbert Blythe been doing to himself at
college ? ” asked Marilla. “ I saw him when he came
home last week, and he is so pale and thin I hardly
knew him .”
“ He studied very hard last winter,” said Anne.
“ You know he took High Honours in Classics and
the Cooper Prize. It hasn't been taken for five years !
So I think he's rather run down. We're all a little
tired .”
Anyhow, you're a B.A. and Jane Andrews isn't
and never will be,” said Mrs. Lynde, with gloomy sat
isfaction .
A few evenings later Anne went down to see Jane,
but the latter was away in Charlottetown — " getting
-
sewing done, ” Mrs. Harmon informed Anne proudly.

“ Of course an Avonlea dressmaker wouldn't do for
Jane under the circumstances.”
' I've heard something very nice about Jane,” said
Anne.
“Yes, Jane has done pretty well, even if she isn't
>
a B.A., ” said Mrs. Harmon , with a slight toss of her

head. “ Mr. Inglis is worth millions, and they're go
ing to Europe on their wedding tower. When they
come back they'll live in a perfect mansion of marble
in Winnipeg. Jane has only one trouble she can
cook so well and her husband won't let her cook . He
is so rich he hires his cooking done . They're going
to keep a cook and two other maids and a coachman and
a man -of-all-work. But what about you , Anne ? I
don't hear anything of your being married , after all
your college - going.”
“ Oh , ” laughed Anne, “ I am going to be an old
maid. I really can't find any one to suit me.”
It was rather wicked of her. She deliberately meant
to remind Mrs. Andrews that if she became an old
maid it was not because she had not had at least one
chance of marriage. But Mrs. Harmon took swift
revenge.
“ Well, the over-particular girls generally get left,
I notice. And what's this I hear about Gilbert Blythe
being engaged to a Miss Stuart ? Charlie Sloane tells
me she is perfectly beautiful. Is it true ? ”
“ I don't know if it is true that he is engaged to.
Miss Stuart,” replied Anne, with Spartan composure,

“ but it is certainly true that she is very lovely. ”
“ I once thought you and Gilbert would have made
a match of it,” said Mrs. Harmon. “ If you don't
take care, Anne, all your beaux will slip through your
>
fingers. ”
Anne decided not to continue her duel with Mrs.
Harmon . You could not fence with an antagonist
who met rapier thrust with blow of battle axe.
Since Jane is away,” she said, rising haughtily,
" I don't think I can stay longer this morning. I'll
come down when she comes home."
“ Do ,” said Mrs. Harmon effusively. “ Jane isn't a
bit proud. She just means to associate with her old
friends the same as ever. She'll be real glad to see
you ."
Jane's millionaire arrived the last of May and car
ried her off in a blaze of splendour. Mrs. Lynde was
spitefully gratified to find that Mr. Inglis was every
day of forty, and short and thin and grayish. Mrs.
Lynde did not spare him in her enumeration of his
shortcomings, you may be sure.
“ It will take all his gold to gild a pill like him,
that's what,” said Mrs. Rachel solemnly.
“ He looks kind and good -hearted , ” said Anne loy
ally , " and I'm sure he thinks the world of Jane."
Humph !” said Mrs. Rachel .
Phil Gordon was married the next week and Anne
went over to Bolingbroke to be her bridesmaid. Phil
made a dainty fairy of a bride, and the Rev. Jo was so
radiant in his happiness that nobody thought him

plain.
“ We're going for a lovers' saunter through the land
of Evangeline," said Phil, " and then we'll settle down
on Patterson Street. Mother thinks it is terrible —
she thinks Jo might at least take a church in a decent
place. But the wilderness of the Patterson slums will
blossom like the rose for me if Jo is there. Oh, Anne,
I'm so happy my heart aches with it.”
Anne was always glad in the happiness of her
friends ; but it is sometimes a little lonely to be sur
rourided everywhere by a happiness that is not your
own. And it was just the same when she went back
to Avonlea. This time it was Diana who was bathed
in the wonderful glory that comes to a woman when
her first-born is laid beside her. Anne looked at the
white young mother with a certain awe that had never
entered into her feelings for Diana before. Could this
pale woman with the rapture in her eyes be the little
black-curled, rosy -cheeked Diana she had played with
in vanished schooldays ? It gave her a queer desolate
feeling that she herself somehow belonged only in those 1
past years and had no business in the present at all.

Isn't he perfectly beautiful ? ” said Diana proudly.
The little fat fellow was absurdly like Fred — just
as round, just as red. Anne really could not say con
scientiously that she thought him beautiful, but she
vowed sincerely that he was sweet and kissable and
altogether delightful.
“ Before he came I wanted a girl, so that I could
call her Anne," said Diana. “ But now that little Fred
is here I wouldn't exchange him for a million girls.
He just couldn't have been anything but his own pre
cious self.”
Every little baby is the sweetest and the best,'
quoted Mrs. Allan gaily. “ If little Anne had come
you'd have felt just the same about her.”
Mrs. Allan was visiting in Avonlea, for the first
time since leaving it. She was as gay and sweet and
sympathetic as ever. Her old girl friends had wel
comed her back rapturously. The reigning minister's
wife was an estimable lady, but she was not exactly a
kindred spirit.
“ I can hardly wait till he gets old enough to talk , "
sighed Diana. “ I just long to hear him say ' mother.'
And oh, I'm determined that his first memory of me
shall be a nice one. The first memory I have of my
mother is of her slapping me for something I had done.
I am sure I deserved it, and mother was always a good
mother and I love her dearly. But I do wish my first
memory of her was nicer.”'
“ I have just one memory of my mother and it is the
sweetest of all my memories, ” said Mrs. Allan. “ I
was five years old, and I had been allowed to go to
school one day with my two older sisters. When
school came out my sisters went home in different
groups, each supposing I was with the other. Instead
I had run off with a little girl I had played with at re
cess. We went to her home, which was near the
school, and began making mud pies. We were having
a glorious time when my older sister arrived, breath

less and angry.
“ ' You naughty girl,' she cried, snatching my reluc
tant hand and dragging me along with her. Come
home this minute. Oh, you're going to catch it !
Mother is awful cross. She is going to give you a
good whipping.'
“ I had never been whipped. Dread and terror
filled my poor little heart. I have never been so mis
erable in my life as I was on that walk home. I had
not meant to be naughty. Phemy Cameron had asked
me to go home with her and I had not known it was
wrong to go. And now I was to be whipped for it.
When we got home my sister dragged me into the
kitchen where mother was sitting by the fire in the twi
light. My poor wee legs were trembling so that I
could hardly stand. And mother — mother just took
-
me up in her arms, without one word of rebuke or

harshness, kissed me and held me close to her heart.
' I was so frightened you were lost, darling,' she said
tenderly. I could see the love shining in her eyes as
she looked down on me. She never scolded or re
proached me for what I had done — only told me I
must never go away again without asking permission.
She died very soon afterwards. That is the only mem
ory I have of her. Isn't it a beautiful one ? ”
Anne felt lonelier than ever as she walked home,
going by way of the Birch Path and Willowmere. She
had not walked that way for many moons. It was a
darkly -purple bloomy night. The air was heavy with
blossom fragrance — almost too heavy. The cloyed

senses recoiled from it as from an overfull cup.. The
birches of the path had grown from the fairy saplings
of old to big trees. Everything had changed. Anne
felt that she would be glad when the summer was over
and she was away at work again. Perhaps life would
not seem so empty then.
“ ' I've tried the world - it wears no more
The colouring of romance it wore,'
sighed Anne — and was straightway much comforted

by the romance in the idea of the world being denuded
of romance !
CHAPTER XL
A BOOK OF REVELATION
THE Irvings came back to Echo Lodge for the sum

mer, and Anne spent a happy three weeks there in July.
Miss Lavendar had not changed ; Charlotta the Fourth
was a very grown-up young lady now, but still adored
Anne sincerely.
“ When all's said and done, Miss Shirley, ma'am,
I haven't seen any one in Boston that's equal to you , ”
she said frankly.
Paul was almost grown -up, too. He was sixteen,
his chestnut curls had given place to close-cropped
brown locks, and he was more interested in foot-ball
than fairies. But the bond between him and his old
teacher still held. Kindred spirits alone do not change
with changing years.
It was a wet, bleak, cruel evening in July when Anne
came back to Green Gabies. One of the fierce summer
storms which sometimes sweep over the gulf was rav
aging the sea. As Anne came in the first rain -drops
dashed against the panes.
Was that Paul who brought you home ? ” asked
Marilla. “ Why didn't you make him stay all night.
It's going to be a wild evening.”
914
A BOOK OF REVELATION 315
* He'll reach Echo Lodge before the rain gets very

heavy, I think. Anyway, he wanted to go back to
night. Well, I've had a splendid visit, but I'm glad to
see you dear folks again. ' East, west, hame's best.'
Davy, have you been growing again lately ? ”
" I've growed a whole inch since you left, " said
Davy proudly. “ I'm as tall as Milty Boulter now.
Ain't I glad. He'll have to stop crowing about being
bigger. Say, Anne, did you know that Gilbert Blythe
is dying? ”
Anne stood quite silent and motionless, looking at
Davy. Her face had gone so white that Marilla
thought she was going to faint .
Davy, hold your tongue,” said Mrs. Rachel
angrily. “ Anne, don't look like that don't look like
-
that ! We didn't mean to tell you so suddenly.”

Is — it — true? ” asked Anne in a voice that was
not hers.
“ Gilbert is very ill, ” said Mrs. Lynde gravely. “ He
took down with typhoid fever just after you left for
Echo Lodge. Did you never hear of it ? "
No,” said that unknown voice.
“ It was a very bad case from the start. The doctor
said he'd been terribly run down. They've a trained
nurse and everything's been done . Don't look like
that, Anne. While there's life there's hope.”
“ Mr. Harrison was here this evening and he said
they had no hope of him , ” reiterated Davy.
Marilla, looking old and worn and tired, got up and
marched Davy grimly out of the kitchen.
Oh, don't look so , dear,” said Mrs. Rachel, putting

her kind old arms about the pallid girl. “ I haven't
given up hope, indeed I haven't. He's got the Blythe
constitution in his favour, that's what."
Anne gently put Mrs. Lynde's arms away from her,
walked blindly across the kitchen, through the hall, up
the stairs to her old room. At its window she knelt
down, staring out unseeingly. It was very dark . The
rain was beating down over the shivering fields. The
Haunted Wood was full of the groans of mighty trees
wrung in the tempest, and the air throbbed with the
thunderous crash of billows on the distant shore. And
Gilbert was dying !
There is aa book of Revelation in every one's life, as
there is in the Bible. Anne read hers that bitter night,
as she kept her agonized vigil through the hours of
storm and darkness. She loved Gilbert had always
-
loved him ! She knew that now. She knew that she
could no more cast him out of her life without agony
than she could have cut off her right hand and cast it
from her. And the knowledge had come too late
too late even for the bitter solace of being with him at
the last. If she had not been so blind so foolish
she would have had the right to go to him now . But

he would never know that she loved him — he would
go away from this life thinking that she did not care .
Oh, the black years of emptiness stretching before her !
She could not live through them — she could not!
She cowered down by her window and wished, for the
first time in her gay young life, that she could die, too.
If Gilbert went away from her, without one word or

sign or message, she could not live. Nothing was of
any value without him. She belonged to him and he
to her. In her hour of supreme agony she had no
doubt of that. He did not love Christine Stuart - -
never had loved Christine Stuart. Oh, what aa fool she

had been not to realize what the bond was that had
held her to Gilbert to think that the flattered fancy
she had felt for Roy Gardner had been love. And
now she must pay for her folly as for aа crime.
Mrs. Lynde and Marilla crept to her door before
they went to bed, shook their heads doubtfully at each
other over the silence, and went away. The storm
raged all night, but when the dawn came it was spent.
Anne saw a fairy fringe of light on the skirts of dark
ness . Soon the eastern hill-tops had a fire-shot ruby
rim. The clouds rolled themselves away into great,
soft, white masses on the horizon ; the sky gleamed
blue and silvery. A hush fell over the world.
Anne rose from her knees and crept down-stairs.
The freshness of the rain -wind blew against her white
face as she went out into the yard, and cooled her dry,
burning eyes. A merry rollicking whistle was lilting
up the lane. A moment later Pacifique Buote came in
sight.
Anne's physical strength suddenly failed her. If
she had not clutched at a low willow bough she would
have fallen. Pacifique was George Fletcher's hired
man, and George Fletcher lived next door to the
Blythes. Mrs. Fletcher was Gilbert's aunt. Paci
fique would know if — if — Pacifique would know

what there was to be known.
Pacifique strode sturdily on along the red lane,
whistling. He did not see Anne. She made three
futile attempts to call him. He was almost past before
she succeeded in making her quivering lips call,
Pacifique ! ”
Pacifique turned with a grin and a cheerful good
morning
“ Pacifique,” said Anne faintly, “ did you come from
George Fletcher's this morning ? ”
Sure, ” said Pacifique amiably. “ I got de word
las' night dat my fader, he was seeck. It was so
stormy dat I couldn't go den, so I start vair early dis
mornin '. I'm goin' troo de woods for short cut.”
“ Did you hear how Gilbert Blythe was this morn
ing ? "
Anne's desperation drove her to the question. Even
the worst would be more endurable than this hideous
suspense.
“ He's better,” said Pacifique. “ He got de turn
las' night. De doctor say he'll be all right now dis
soon while. Had close shave, dough ! Dat boy, he
jus' keel himself at colloge. Well, I mus' hurry. De
old man , he'll be in hurry to see me.”
Pacifique resumed his walk and his whistle. Anne
gazed after him with eyes where joy was driving out
the strained anguish of the night. He was a very lank,
very ragged, very homely youth . But in her sight he
was as beautiful as those who bring good tidings on ,
the mountains . Never, as long as she lived, would

Anne see Pacifique's brown, round, black-eyed face
without a warm remembrance of the moment when he
had given to her the oil of joy for mourning.
Long after Pacifique's gay whistle had faded into
the phantom of music and then into silence far up un
der the maples of Lover's Lane Anne stood under the
willows, tasting the poignant sweetness of life when
some great dread has been removed from it. The
morning was a cup filled with mist and glamour. In
the corner near her was a rich surprise of new -blown,
crystal-dewed roses. The trills and trickles of song
from the birds in the big tree above her seemed in per
fect accord with her mood. A sentence from a very
old, very true, very wonderful Book came to her lips,
“ Weeping may endure for a night but joy cometh in
the morning.”
CHAPTER XLI
LOVE TAKES UP THE GLASS OF TIME
“ I've come up to ask you to go for one of our old

time rambles through September woods and over hills
where spices grow,' this afternoon,” said Gilbert, com
ing suddenly around the porch corner. Suppose we
visit Hester Gray's garden.”
Anne, sitting on the stone step with her lap full of a
pale, filmy, green stuff, looked up rather blankly.
“ Oh, I wish I could ,” she said slowly, “ but I really
can't, Gilbert. I'm going to Alice Penhallow's wed
ding this evening, you know. I've got to do something
to this dress, and by the time it's finished I'll have to
9
get ready. I'm so sorry. I'd love to go."
“ Well, can you go to -morrow afternoon, then ? ”
asked Gilbert, apparently not much disappointed.
“ Yes, I think so."
“ In that case I shall hie me home at once to do
something I should otherwise have to do to-morrow.
So Alice Penhallow is to be married to -night. Three
weddings for you in one summer, Anne Phil's,
Alice's, and Jane's . I'll never forgive Jane for not
inviting me to her wedding."
You really can't blame her when you think of the
tremendous Andrews connection who had to be invited.
LOVE TAKES UP - GLASS OF TIME 821
The house could hardly hold them all. I was only bid
den by grace of being Jane's old chum at least on
Jane's part. I think Mrs. Harmon's motive for invit
ing me was to let me see Jane's surpassing gorgeous
ness.”
“ Is it true that she wore so many diamonds that
you couldn't tell where the diamonds left off and Jane
began ? ”
Anne laughed.
“ She certainly wore a good many. What with all
the diamonds and white satin and tulle and lace and
roses and orange-blossoms, prim little Jane was almost
lost to sight. But she was very happy, and so was Mr.
Inglis — and so was Mrs. Harmon .”
“ Is that the dress you're going to wear to-night? ”
asked Gilbert, looking down at the fluffs and frills.
Yes. Isn't it pretty ? And I shall wear star
flowers in my hair. The Haunted Wood is full of
them this summer.”
Gilbert had a sudden vision of Anne, arrayed in a
frilly green gown , with the virginal curves of arms and
throat slipping out of it, and white stars shining
against the coils of her ruddy hair. The vision made
him catch his breath . But he turned lightly away.
“ Well, I'll be up to-morrow. Hope you'll have a
>
nice time to-night .”
Anne looked after him as he strode away, and
sighed. Gilbert was friendly — very friendly — far
-
too friendly. He had come quite often to Green

Gables after his recovery, and something of their old
comradeship had returned . But Anne no longer found

it satisfying. The rose of love made the blossom of
friendship pale and scentless by contrast. And Anne
had again begun to doubt if Gilbert now felt anything
for her but friendship. In the common light of com
mon day her radiant certainty of that rapt morning
had faded. She was haunted by a miserable fear that
her mistake could never be rectified . It was quite
likely that it was Christine whom Gilbert loved after
all.. Perhaps he was even engaged to her. Anne tried
to put all unsettling hopes out of her heart, and recon
cile herself to a future where work and ambition must
take the place of love. She could do good, if not
noble, work as a teacher ; and the success her little
sketches were beginning to meet with in certain edi
torial sanctums argured well for her budding literary
dreams. But — but — Anne picked up her green
dress and sighed again.
When Gilbert came the next afternoon he found
Anne waiting for him, fresh as the dawn and fair as
a star, after all the gaiety of the preceding night.
She wore a green dress — not the one she had worn to
.
the wedding, but an old one which Gilbert had told

her at a Redmond reception he liked especially. It
was just the shade of green that brought out the rich
tints of her hair, and the starry gray of her eyes and
the iris -like delicacy of her skin. Gilbert, glancing at
her sideways as they walked along a shadowy wood
path, thought she had never looked so lovely. Anne,
glancing sideways at Gilbert, now and then, thought
LOVE TAKES UP GLASS OF TIME 323
how much older he looked since his illness. It was

as if he had put boyhood behind him forever.
The day was beautiful and the way was beautiful.
Anne was almost sorry when they reached Hester
Gray's garden , and sat down on the old bench. But it
was beautiful there, too - as beautiful as it had been
on the far-away day of the Golden Picnic, when Diana
and Jane and Priscilla and she had found it. Then it
had been lovely with narcissus and violets ; now golden
rod had kindled its fairy torches in the corners and
asters dotted it bluely. The call of the brook came up
through the woods from the valley of birches with all
its old allurement ; the mellow air was full of the purr
of the sea ; beyond were fields rimmed by fences
bleached silvery gray in the suns of many summers ,
and long hills scarfed with the shadows of autumnal
clouds ; with the blowing of the west wind old dreams
returned .
“ I think ,” said Anne softly, “ that ' the land where
dreams come true ’ is in the blue haze yonder, over
that little valley ."
Have you any unfulfilled dreams, Anne ? ” asked
Gilbert.
Something in his tone — something she had not
heard since that miserable evening in the orchard at
Patty's Place —- made Anne's heart beat wildly. But
she made answer lightly.
“ Of course. Everybody has. It wouldn't do for
us to have all our dreams fulfilled . We would be as
good as dead if we had nothing left to dream about.
What a delicious aroma that low -descending sun is

extracting from the asters and ferns. I wish we could
see perfumes as well as smell them. I'm sure they
would be very beautiful .”
Gilbert was not to be thus side-tracked.
“ I have a dream ,” he said slowly. “ I persist in
dreaming it, although it has often seemed to me that
it could never come true. I dream of a home with a
hearth - fire in it, a cat and dog, the footsteps of friends,
and you ! "
Anne wanted to speak but she could find no words.
Happiness was breaking over her like a wave. It al
most frightened her.
“ I asked you a question over two years ago, Anne.
If I ask it again to-day will you give me a different
answer ? ”
Still Anne could not speak. But she lifted her
eyes, shining with all the love-rapture of countless
generations, and looked into his for a moment. He
wanted no other answer.
They lingered in the old garden until twilight, sweet
as dusk in Eden must have been, crept over it. There
1
was so much to talk over and recall — things said and
done and heard and thought and felt and misunder
stood.
“ I thought you loved Christine Stuart,” Anne told
him , as reproachfully as if she had not given him
every reason to suppose that she loved Roy Gardner.
Gilbert laughed boyishly.
Christine was engaged to somebody in her home,
LOVE TAKES UP GLASS OF TIME 325
town. I knew it and she knew I knew it. When her

brother graduated he told me his sister was coming to
Kingsport the next winter to take music, and asked
me if I would look after her a bit, as she knew no one
and would be very lonely. So I did. And then I liked
Christine for her own sake. She is one of the nicest
girls I've ever known. I knew college gossip credited
us with being in love with each other. I didn't care.
Nothing mattered much to me for a time there, after
you told me you could never love me, Anne. There
was nobody else — there never could be anybody else
for me but you. I've loved you ever since that day
you broke your slate over my head in school. ”
66
I don't see how you could keep on loving me when
I was such a little fool, ” said Anne.
Well, I tried to stop,” said Gilbert frankly, “not
because I thought you what you call yourself, but be
cause I felt sure there was no chance for me after
Gardner came on the scene. But I couldn't — and I-
can't tell you, either, what it's meant to me these two

years to believe you were going to marry him, and be
told every week by some busybody that your engage
ment was on the point of being announced. I believed
it until one blessed day when I was sitting up after the
fever. I got aa letter from Phil Gordon — Phil Blake,
rather — in which she told me there was really nothing
between you and Roy, and advised me to ' try again .'
Well, the doctor was amazed at my rapid recovery
after that.”
Anne laughed — then shivered.
“ I can never forget the night I thought you were

dying, Gilbert. Oh, I knew -- I knew then — and I
-
thought it was too late.”

“ But it wasn't, sweetheart. Oh, Anne, this makes
up for everything, doesn't it ? Let's resolve to keep
this day sacred to perfect beauty all our lives for the
gift it has given us.”
“ It's the birthday of our happiness,” said Anne
softly. “ I've always loved this old garden of Hester
Gray's, and now it will be dearer than ever. "
“But I'll have to ask you to wait a long time,, Anne, ”
said Gilbert sadly. “ It will be three years before I'll
finish my medical course. And even then there will be
no diamond sunbursts and marble halls."
Anne laughed.
“ I don't want sunbursts and marble halls. I just
want you. You see I'm quite as shameless as Phil
about it. Sunbursts and marble halls may be all very
well, but there is more ' scope for imagination ' with
out them. And as for the waiting, that doesn't mat
ter. We'll just be happy, waiting and working for
each other — and dreaming. Oh, dreams will be very
sweet now .”
Gilbert drew her close to him and kissed her. Then
they walked home together in the dusk, crowned king
and queen in the bridal realm of love, along winding
paths fringed with the sweetest flowers that ever
bloomed , and over haunted meadows where winds of
hope and memory blew.

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This is a reproduction of a library book that was digitized

by Google as part of an ongoing effort to preserve the

ANNE OF GREEN GABLES

ANNE OF THE ISLAND

ANNE OF WINDY POPLARS

ANNE'S HOUSE OF DREAMS

Grosset & Dunlap

3PED - 191 - XP8H

Entered at Stationers' Hall, London

All rights reserved

PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA

I. THE SHADOW OF CHANGE I

III. GREETING AND FAREWELL . . 22

V. LETTERS FROM HOME 47

XIV. THE SUMMONS • .

XVIII. Miss JOSEPHINE REMEMBERS THE ANNE - GIRL . 172 .

XXIX . Diana's WEDDING . .

XXXVII. FULL - FLEDGED B. A.'s . 288

blue of spring, nor the pale azure of summer, but a

the new ring on her left hand with a smile. “ And

the shutters all closed ! I went past it last night, and

seem as if we were committing sacrilege. That old

a wink from awe. I never walked through that room

agreed Anne sarcastically ; whereupon both those irre

time,” said Anne cheerfully “ There won't be so many

all, I fancy it's the unexpected things that give spice

“ Priscilla Grant is going to Redmond,, too,” she

sors of Redmond in one fell phalanx - with a chum

“ home ” must always be the loveliest spot in the world, ·

one lying on the rail of the bridge. His hazel eyes

unpleasant one —very different from that which had

attended a similar demonstration on Charlie Sloane's

do 'Course, if she'd been killed I'd have been real sorry,

“ Yes, if you are sure you won't forget to say them,

“ I don't exactly want to, Davy, but I feel I ought

“ No, Davy, I'm not. I'm going to study and grow

lessly. “ I think it's likely she knows more about the

lorn , ” where lost Atlantis and Elysium lie, with the

The following week sped swiftly, crowded with in

was not according to their wont. Josie was unusually

with dancing eyes. Her sense of humour was develop

pleased by the nice things said in the address, read in

me, ” she said, when she thankfully found herself alone

mond ; and I felt all over me that it was unpardonable

over me. Common nonsense takes possession of my

get any romantic nonsense into her head at Redmond.

“ This wood really is haunted now - by old mem

come again in the fall and see if it had been apples.

“ Oh, there's another bend in the road at their end ,”

Gilbert was looking at Anne, as she walked along.

GREETING AND FAREWELL

CHARLIE SLOANE, Gilbert Blythe and Anne Shirley

and Lover's Lane all the thousand and one dear

he had to go below, and Anne and Gilbert were left

“ Yes, I feel like Byron's ‘ Childe Harold - only

Mrs. Spencer brought me over from Hopetown. I can

until I get into my boarding -house bed to -night, wher

some horrible boarding-house, in aa still more horrible

trunk. Oh, yes, the boarding -house — it's really a