39 Anne Of The Island - Read By Stephanie Poppins

Anne of the Island by L.

M.

Montgomery Read by Stephanie Poppins Chapter 39 Deals with Weddings Anne felt that life partook of the nature of an anticlimax during the first few weeks after her return to Green Gables.

She missed the merry comradeship of Patti'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 glorious,

Solitude without them has few charms.

She had not seen Roy again after their painful parting 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're quite right,

He would bore you to death.

I love him and he's 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,

Dorothy?

Anne 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 charm anyway.

And don't fret over Roy,

He's feeling terribly just now.

I have to listen to his outpourings 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.

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 as someone else.

Of course,

When he met you,

He vowed to me he'd 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'd ever loved.

No doubt he believed it,

But it was a comfort to feel 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 illusions,

And Anne began to think drearily 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,

Marilla?

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 heavenly news,

Said Anne,

Sitting down on the porch steps where the evening sunshine fell over her hair in fine golden rain.

There isn't much news except what we wrote you,

Said Mrs.

Lynde.

I suppose you haven't heard Simon Fletcher broke his leg last week.

It's a great thing for his family.

They're getting a hundred things done 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.

Of course,

It made them mad and worse than ever.

You haven't told Anne the news about Jane,

Suggested Marilla.

Oh,

Jane.

Well,

Jane Andrews' home from the West came last week and she's going to be married 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's 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's made money in mines,

But I believe he'll turn out to be a Yankee.

He certainly must have money,

For he's shower Jane with jewelry.

Her engagement ring is a diamond cluster so big it looks like a plaster on Jane's fat paw.

Mrs.

Lind 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 to be spoken by anyone,

Rich or poor,

And Mrs.

Harmon Andrews did brag insufferably.

What has Gilbert Blythe been doing at college,

Asked Marina.

I saw him when he came home last week and he's so pale and thin.

I hardly knew him.

He studied very hard,

Said Anne.

You know he took high honors 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 bit tired.

Anyhow,

You're a BA and Jane Andrews isn't and she never will be,

Said Mrs.

Lind with gloomy satisfaction.

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 avidly dressmaker wouldn't do for Jane under the circumstances.

I've heard something very nice about Jane,

Said Anne.

Yes,

Jane's done pretty well even if she isn't a BA,

Said Mrs.

Harmon with a slight toss of her head.

Mr.

Inglis is worth millions and they're going to Europe on their wedding tour.

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's so rich,

He hires his cooking done.

They're going to keep a cook and two other maids and a coachman and man of all work.

But what about you,

Anne?

I didn't hear anything of your being married after all your college going.

Laugh,

Anne.

I'm going to be an old maid.

I really can't find anyone 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 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 all this I hear about Gilbert Blythe being engaged to a Miss Stewart?

Charlie Sloane tells me she's perfectly beautiful.

Is it true?

I don't know if it's true he's engaged to Miss Stewart,

Replied Anne with spartan composure,

But it's certainly true she's very lovely.

I once thought you and Gilbert would have made a match of it,

Said Mrs.

Harmon.

If you don't take your care,

Anne,

All of your bow 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 day of May and carried her off in a blaze of splendor.

Mrs.

Lynde was spitefully gratified to find out Mr.

Inglis was every day of 40,

Short,

Thin,

And greyish.

Mrs.

Lynde did not spare him her enumeration of his shortcomings,

You may be sure.

It'll take all his gold to gild a pill like him,

That's what,

Said Mr.

Inglis.

Mrs.

Rachel solemnly.

He looks kind and good-hearted,

Said Anne loyally,

And I'm sure he thinks the world of Jane.

Hmm,

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 Reverend Joe was so radiant in his happiness that nobody thought him plain.

We're going for a lover's saunter through the land of Evangeline,

Said Phil,

And then we'll settle down on Paterson Street.

Mother thinks it's terrible,

She thinks Joe might at least take a church and a decent place,

But the wilderness of the Paterson slums will blossom like the rose for me if Joe 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 surrounded 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 firstborn 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 a rapture in her eyes be the little black-curled,

Rosy-cheeked Diana she had played with in vanished school days?

It gave her a queer,

Desolate feeling that she herself somehow belonged only in those past years and had no business in the present at all.

Isn't he perfectly beautiful?

Said Anne proudly.

The little fat fellow was absurdly like Fred,

Just as round and just as red.

Anne really could not say conscientiously 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 I could call her Anne,

Said Diana,

But now that little Fred's here,

I wouldn't exchange him for a million girls.

He just couldn't have been anything but his own precious self.

Every little baby is the sweetest and the best,

Quoted Mrs Allen gaily.

If little Anne had come,

You'd feel just the same way about her.

Mrs Allen was visiting in Avonlea for the first time since leaving it.

She was as gay and sweet and sympathetic as ever.

Her old girlfriends had welcomed 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.

I'm determined 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'd done.

I'm sure I deserved it and mother was always a good mother and I love her dearly.

But I do wish my first memory was nicer.

I have just one memory of my mother and it's the sweetest of all my memories,

Said Mrs Allen.

I was five years old and I'd 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 played with at recess.

We went to her home which was near the school and began making mud pies.

We were having such a glorious time.

Then my older sister arrived,

Breathless and angry.

You naughty girl,

She said,

Snatching my reluctant hand and dragging me along with her.

Come home this minute or you're going to catch it.

Mother's awful cross.

She's going to give you a good whipping.

I'd never been whipped.

Dread and terror filled my poor little heart.

I'd never been so miserable as then.

I'd not meant to be naughty.

When we got home,

My sister dragged me into the kitchen where mother was sitting by the fire in the twilight.

I could see the love shining in her eyes as she looked down on me.

She never scolded or reproached me for what I'd done,

Only told me I must never go away again.

That is the only memory I have of my mother.

Isn't it a beautiful one?

Anne felt lonelier than ever as she walked home,

Going by way of the birch path and willow mere.

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,

Evolved to big trees.

Everything had changed.

Anne felt 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 straight away much comforted by the romance in the idea of the world being denuded of romance.