38 Anne Of Green Gables - Bedtime Tales By Stephanie Poppins

This is S.

D.

Hudson Magic.

I'm delighted to be able to read for you,

Anne of Green Gables.

This I consider to be my favorite story of all time.

And even though I am English,

And not Canadian,

I hope I will do this story justice.

Chapter 38 The Bend in the Road Marilla went to town the next day and returned in the evening.

Anne had gone over to Orchard Slope with Diana and came back to find Marilla in the kitchen,

Sitting by the table with her head leaning on her hand.

Something in her dejected attitude struck a chill to Anne's heart.

She had never seen Marilla sit limply inert like that.

Are you very tired,

Marilla?

Yes.

No.

I don't know,

Said Marilla,

Wearily looking up.

I suppose I am tired,

But I haven't thought about it.

It's not that.

Did you see the oculist?

What did he say?

Asked Anne anxiously.

Yes,

I saw him.

He examined my eyes and says that if I could give up all reading and sewing entirely,

And any kind of work that strains the eyes,

And if I'm careful not to cry,

And if I wear the glasses he's given me,

He thinks my eyes may not get any worse and my headaches will be cured.

But if I don't,

He says I'll certainly be stone blind in six months.

Blind,

Anne!

Just think of it!

For a minute,

Anne,

After her quick exclamation of dismay,

Was silent.

It seemed to her that she could not speak.

Then she said bravely,

But with a catch in her voice,

Marilla,

Don't think of it.

You know he's given you hope.

If you're careful,

You won't lose your sight altogether,

And if his glasses cure your headaches,

It will be a great thing.

I don't call it much hope,

Said Marilla bitterly.

What am I to live for if I can't read or sew or do anything like that?

I might as well be blind or dead.

And as for crying,

I can't help that when I get lonesome.

But there,

It's no good talking about it.

If you get me a cup of tea,

I'll be thankful.

I'm about done out.

Don't say anything about this to anyone else for a spell yet.

I can't bear that folks should come here to question and sympathise and talk about it.

When Marilla had eaten her lunch,

Anne persuaded her to go to bed.

Then Anne herself went to the East Gable and sat down by her window in the darkness,

With her tears and her heaviness of heart.

How sadly things had changed since she'd sat there the night after coming home.

Then she had been full of hope and joy,

And the future had looked rosy with promise.

Anne felt as if she'd lived years since then.

But before she went to bed,

There was a smile on her lips and a peace in her heart.

She had looked her duty courageously in the face and found it a friend,

As duty ever is when we meet it frankly.

One afternoon,

A few days later,

Marilla came slowly in from the front yard,

Where she'd been talking to a caller.

A man who Anne knew by sight as Sadler from Carmody.

Anne wondered what he could have been saying to bring that clock to Marilla's face.

What did Mr Sadler want,

Marilla?

Marilla sat down by the window and looked at Anne.

There were tears in her eyes in defiance of the oculus prohibition,

And her voice broke as she said,

He heard that I was going to sell Green Gables,

And he wants to buy it.

Buy it?

Buy Green Gables?

Anne wondered if she'd heard right.

Oh,

Marilla,

You don't need to sell Green Gables.

Anne,

I don't know what else is to be done.

I've thought it all over.

If my eyes were strong,

I could stay here and make out to look after things and manage,

With a good hired man.

As it is,

I can't.

I may lose my sight altogether,

And anyway,

I'll not be fit to run things.

Oh,

I never thought I'd live to see the day when I'd have to sell my home.

But things would only go behind worse and worse all the time,

Till nobody would want to buy it.

Every cent of our money went in that bank,

And there's some notes Matthew gave last fall to pay.

Mrs Linde advises me to sell the farm and board somewhere.

With her,

I suppose.

It won't bring much,

It's small,

And the buildings are old,

But it'll be enough for me to live on,

I reckon.

I'm thankful you're provided for without scholarship,

Anne.

I'm sorry you won't have a home to come to in your vacations,

That's all,

But I suppose you'll manage somehow.

Then Marilla broke down and wept bitterly.

You mustn't sell Green Gables,

Said Anne resolutely.

Oh,

Anne,

I wish I didn't have to,

But you can see for yourself I can't stay here alone,

And I'd go crazy with trouble and loneliness,

And my sight would go,

I know it would.

You won't have to stay here alone,

Marilla,

I'll be with you.

I'm not going to Redmond.

Not going to Redmond?

Marilla lifted her worn face from her hands and looked at Anne.

What do you mean?

Just what I say,

I'm not going to take this scholarship.

I decided so the night after you came home from town.

You surely don't think I could leave you alone in your trouble,

Marilla,

After all you've done for me?

I've been thinking and planning.

Let me tell you my plans.

Mr Barry wants to rent the farm for next year,

So you won't have any bother over that,

And I'm going to teach.

I've applied for the school here.

I don't expect to get it,

For I understand the trustees have promised it to Gilbert.

But I can have the Carmody school.

Mr Blair told me so last night at the store.

Of course that won't be quite nice or convenient,

As if I had the Avonlea school,

But I can board home and drive myself over to Carmody and back in the warm weather.

And in the winter I can come home Fridays.

We'll keep a horse for that.

I've planned it all out,

Marilla,

And I'll read to you and keep you cheered up.

You shan't be dull or lonesome.

We'll be real cosy and happy here together,

You and I.

Marilla listened like a woman in a dream.

Oh,

Anne,

I could get on real well if you were here,

I know,

But I can't let you sacrifice yourself for me.

It would be terrible.

Nonsense,

Anne laughed merrily.

There's no sacrifice.

Nothing could be worse than giving up Green Gables.

Nothing could hurt me more.

We must keep the dear old place.

My mind is quite made up,

Marilla.

I'm not going to Redmond and I am going to stay here and teach.

Don't you worry about me a bit.

But your ambitions and.

.

.

I'm just as ambitious as ever.

Only I've changed the object of my ambitions.

I'm going to be a good teacher and I'm going to save your eyesight.

Besides,

I mean to study at home here and take a little college course all by myself.

I've dozens of plans,

Marilla.

I've been thinking them out for a week.

I shall live life here my best and believe it will give the best to me in return.

When I left Queens,

My future seemed to stretch out before me like a straight road.

I thought I could see it along for many a milestone.

Now there is a bend in it.

I don't know what lies around the bend,

But I'm going to believe the best does.

It has a fascination of its own,

That bend,

Marilla.

I wonder how the road beyond it goes.

What there is of green glory and soft chequered light and shadows.

What new landscapes,

What new beauties,

What curves and hills and valleys further on.

I don't feel as if I ought to let you give it up,

Said Marilla,

Referring to the scholarship.

But you can't prevent me.

I'm sixteen and a half.

Obstinate as a mule,

As Mrs.

Ling once told me.

Oh,

Marilla,

Don't you go pitying me.

I don't like to be pitied and there's no need for it.

My heart is glad at the very thought of staying at Green Gables.

Nobody and nothing could love it as you and I do.

So we must keep it.

You blessed girl,

Said Marilla,

Yielding.

I feel as if you've given me a new life.

I guess I ought to stick out and make you go to college.

But I know I can't,

So I ain't going to try.

I'll make it up to you,

Though,

Anne.

When it became noised abroad in Avonlea that Anne Shirley had given up the idea of going to college and had intended to stay home and teach,

There was a good deal of discussion over it.

Most of the good folks,

Not knowing about Marilla's eyes,

Thought she was foolish.

Mrs.

Allan did not.

She told Anne so in approving words that brought tears of pleasure to the little girl's eyes.

Neither did good Mrs.

Lind.

She came up one evening and found Anne and Marilla sitting at the front door in the warm scented summer dusk.

They liked to sit there when the twilight came down and the white moths flew about in the garden.

Mrs.

Rachel deposited her substantial person upon the stone bench by the door,

Behind which grew a row of tall pink and yellow hollyhocks,

With a long breath of mingled weariness and relief.

I declare I'm getting glad to sit down.

I've been on my feet all day and two hundred pounds is a good bit for two feet to carry round.

It's a great blessing not to be fat,

Marilla.

I hope you appreciate it.

Well,

Anne,

I hear you've been giving up your notion of going to college.

I was real glad to hear it.

You've got as much education now as a woman can be comfortable with.

I don't believe in girls going to college with the men and cramming their heads full of Latin and Greek and all that nonsense.

But I'm going to study Latin and Greek just the same,

Mrs.

Lind,

Said Anne,

Laughing.

I'm going to take my arts course right here at Green Gables and study everything I would at college.

Mrs.

Lind lifted her hands in holy horror.

Anne,

Surely you'll kill yourself.

Not a bit of it.

I shall thrive on it.

I'm not going to overdo things.

As Josiah Allen's wife says,

I shall be majum.

But I'll have lots of spare time in the long winter evenings and I've no vocation for fancy work.

I'm going to teach over at Carpentry,

You know.

I don't know it.

I guess you're going to teach right here at Avonlea.

The trustees have decided to give you the school.

Mrs.

Lind,

Cried Anne,

Springing to her feet in her surprise.

Why,

I thought they'd promised it to Gilbert Blythe.

So they did.

But as soon as Gilbert heard you'd apply for it,

He went to them and they had a business meeting at the school last night and told them that he withdrew his application and suggested they accept yours.

He said he was going to teach at the White Sands.

Of course,

He knew how much.

You wanted to stay with Marilla.

I must say,

I think it was a real kind and thoughtful thing in him,

That's what.

Real self-sacrificing too.

For he'll have his board to pay for at White Sands and everybody knows he's got to earn his own way through college.

So the trustees decided to take you.

I was tickled to death when Thomas came home and told me.

I don't feel that I ought to take it,

Murmured Anne.

I mean,

I don't think I ought to let Gilbert make such a sacrifice for.

.

.

For me.

Now I guess you can't prevent him now.

He's signed papers with the White Sands trustees,

So it wouldn't do him any good now if you were to refuse.

Of course you'll take the school.

You'll get along all right now there are no pies going.

Josie was the last of them and a good thing that was too.

There's been some pie or another going to Avonlea School for the last 20 years and I guess their mission in life was to keep school teachers reminded that Earth isn't their home.

Bless my heart,

What does all that winking and blinking at the Barry Gable mean?

Diana is signalling for me to go over,

Laughed Anne.

You know we keep up the old custom.

Excuse me while I run over and see what she wants.

Anne ran down the clover slope like a deer and disappeared in the furry shadows of the haunted wood.

Mrs.

Lind looked after her indulgently.

There's a good deal of the child about her yet in some ways.

There's a good deal more of the woman about her in others,

Retorted Marilla with a momentary return of her old crispness.

But crispness was no longer Marilla's distinguishing characteristic.

As Mrs.

Lind told her Thomas that night,

Marilla Cuffbutt has got mellow,

That's what.

Anne went to the little Avonlea graveyard the next evening to put fresh flowers on Matthew's grave and water the Scotch rosebud.

She lingered there until dusk,

Liking the peace and calm of the little place,

With its poplars whose rustle was like low,

Friendly speech and its whispering grasses growing at will among the graves.

When she finally left it and walked down the long hill that sloped to the lake of shining waters,

It was past sunset and all Avonlea lay before her in a dreamlike afterlight,

A haunt of ancient peace.

There was a freshness in the air as of a wind that had blown over honey-sweet fields of clover.

Home lights twinkled out here and there among the homestead trees.

Beyond lay the sea,

Misty and purple,

With its haunting,

Unceasing murmur.

The west was a glory of soft mingled hues and the pond reflected them all in still softer shadings.

The beauty of it all thrilled Anne's heart and she gratefully opened the gates of her soul to it.

Dear old world,

She murmured,

You are very lovely and I am glad to be alive in you.

Halfway down the hill a tall lad came whistling out of a gate before the blithe homestead.

It was Gilbert and the whistle died on his lips as he recognised Anne.

He lifted his cap courteously,

But he would have passed on in silence if Anne had not stopped and held out her hand.

Gilbert,

She said with scarlet cheeks,

I want to thank you for giving up the school for me.

It was very good of you and I want you to know that I appreciate it.

Gilbert took the offered hand eagerly.

It wasn't particularly good of me at all,

Anne.

I was pleased to be able to do you some small service.

Are we going to be friends after this?

Have you really forgiven me my old fault?

Anne laughed and tried unsuccessfully to withdraw her hand.

I forgave you that day by the pond landing,

Although I didn't know it.

What a stubborn little goose I was.

I've been,

I may as well make a complete confession,

I've been sorry ever since.

We're going to be the best of friends,

Said Gilbert jubilantly.

We were born to be good friends,

Anne.

You've thwarted destiny enough.

I know we can help each other in many ways.

You're going to keep up your studies,

Aren't you?

So am I.

Come,

I'm going to walk home with you.

Marilla looked curiously at Anne when the latter entered the kitchen.

Who was that that came up the lane with you,

Anne?

Gilbert Blythe,

Answered Anne,

Vexed to find herself blushing.

I met him on Barry's Hill.

I didn't think you and Gilbert Blythe were such good friends you'd stand for half an hour at the gate talking to him,

Said Marilla with a dry smile.

We haven't been.

We've been good enemies.

But we've decided it will be much more sensible to be good friends in the future.

Were we really there half an hour?

It seemed like just a few minutes.

But you see,

We have five years lost conversations to catch up with,

Marilla.

Anne sat long at her window that night,

Companioned by a glad content.

The wind purred softly in the cherry boughs,

And the mint breaths came up to her.

The stars twinkled over the pointed firs in the hollow,

And Diana's light gleamed through the old gap.

Anne's horizons had closed in since the night she had sat there,

After coming home from Queen's.

But if the path set before her feet was to be narrow,

She knew that flowers of quiet happiness would bloom along it.

The joy of sincere work and worthy aspiration and congenial friendship were to be hers.

Nothing could rob her of her birthright of fancy or her ideal world of dreams.

And there was always the bend in the road.

God's in his heaven,

All's right with the world,

Whispered Anne softly.

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