Anne of the Island by L.
M.
Montgomery Read by Stephanie Poppins Chapter 11 The Round of Life Anne was back in Avonlea with a Lustre 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.
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 to her at once,
Made her realise that time did not 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 Lynn 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' marriage netty blew it.
They appeared out that Sunday.
When Billy,
Beaming with pride and happiness,
Showed his beplumed and besilked 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 proposed for Billy.
He had certainly not broken his heart over his rejection.
Anne wondered if Jane had also proposed a netty for him,
Or if he had mustered up 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 bow in Avonlea,
That's what,
Said Mrs.
Rachel Lynn scornfully.
Says she thinks she'll have better health out west.
I never heard her health was poor before.
Jane is a nice girl,
Anne said loyally.
She'd never tried to attract attention as some did.
No,
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 a plenty and women scarce?
Don't you tell me.
But it was not at Jane Anne gazed that day in dismay 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 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 except 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 Sand School.
She'll be in her grave,
Poor girl,
When White Sand 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 schoolgirl intimacy was there and made itself felt sharply in the tug the news gave at Anne's heartstrings.
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 whispered triumphantly.
There's a concert at Carmody and a party at White Sands.
Herb Spence is going to take me.
He's my latest.
Be sure to come up tomorrow.
I'm dying for a good talk with you.
I want to hear all about your doings at Redmond.
Anne knew that Ruby meant she wanted to tell Anne all about her own recent flirtations,
But she promised to go and Diana offered to go with her.
I've been wanting to go to see Ruby for a long time,
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 pretending there's nothing the matter with her,
Even when she can hardly speak for coffee.
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 twilight road.
The Robins were singing vespers in the high treetops,
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 thrill 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 hollows and violet stars were shining bluely on the Brooklands.
What a beautiful sunset,
Said Diana.
Look,
Anne,
It's just like a land in itself,
Isn't it?
That long,
Low back 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 compositions,
You remember how nice it would be,
Said Anne,
Rousing from her reverie.
Do you think we could find all our yesterdays 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,
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 that about Paul Ruby,
Said Anne.
If it is true that she's dying,
Any other sad thing might be true too.
You don't mind calling it a lie she writes for a moment,
Do you?
Asked Diana.
Mother asked me to leave this little dish of jelly for Aunt Atossa.
Who's Aunt Atossa?
Oh,
Haven't you heard?
She's Mrs.
Sampson Coates of Spencer Vale,
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 Diane absently.
You'll probably see what she's like before we can get away,
Said Diana significantly.
Father says she's got a face like a hatchet.
It cuts the air,
But her tongue is sharp still.
Late as it was,
Aunt Atossa was cutting potato sets in the Wright kitchen.
She wore a faded old wrapper and her grey 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.
Her tone implied she'd heard nothing good.
Mrs.
Andrews was telling me you were home,
She said you'd 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 inquired sarcastically.
Of course there's nothing very entertaining here for you the rest of all the way.
Mother sent you this little pot of rhubarb jelly,
Said Diana pleasantly.
She made it today 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.
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.
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 a week,
Of course.
She added teasingly,
I dip my hands up in lemon juice and kick 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.
No wonder your mother allows you.
But she always spoiled you,
Diana.
We all thought when George married her she wouldn't be a suitable wife for him.
Aunt Atossa then 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 talking to an old woman like me.
It's such a pity the boys ain't home.
We want to run in and see Ruby Gillis a little while,
Explained Diana.
Anything for an excuse,
Of course.
Just whip in and whip out before you've time to say how do you do decently.
It's college years,
I suppose.
And you'd be wiser to stay away from Ruby Gillis.
The doctors say consumption's catching.
I always knew Ruby'd get something,
Gadding 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.
I hear you're to be married in June,
Diana.
There is no truth in that report,
Said Diana,
Blushing.
Well,
Don't put it off too long.
You'll fade soon,
Your complexion and hair.
And the rights a terrible fickle.
You ought to wear a hat,
Miss Shirley.
Your nose is freckling scandalous.
My,
But you are red-headed.
Well,
I suppose we're all as the Lord made us.
Give Marilla Cuthbert my respect.
She's never been to me since I come to Avonlea,
But I suppose I oughtn't to complain.
The Cuthberts always did think themselves cut above everybody else round here.
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 anyone?
You should have tried to imagine her name as Cordelia.
It might have helped her a great deal.
It certainly helped me in the days when I didn't like Anne.
