Anne of the Island Page 11

  Chapter XI

  The Round of Life

  Anne was back in Avonlea with the luster of the Thorburn Scholarshipon her brow. People told her she hadn't changed much, in a tone whichhinted they were surprised and a little disappointed she hadn't. Avonleahad not changed, either. At least, so it seemed at first. But as Annesat in the Green Gables pew, on the first Sunday after her return, andlooked over the congregation, she saw several little changes which, allcoming home to her at once, made her realize that time did not quitestand still, even in Avonlea. A new minister was in the pulpit. In thepews 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 practicingat it for twenty years," and old Josiah Sloane, whom nobody knew in hiscoffin because he had his whiskers neatly trimmed, were all sleeping inthe little graveyard behind the church. And Billy Andrews was marriedto Nettie Blewett! They "appeared out" that Sunday. When Billy, beamingwith pride and happiness, showed his be-plumed and be-silked bride intothe Harmon Andrews' pew, Anne dropped her lids to hide her dancing eyes.She recalled the stormy winter night of the Christmas holidays when Janehad proposed for Billy. He certainly had not broken his heart over hisrejection. Anne wondered if Jane had also proposed to Nettie for him, orif he had mustered enough spunk to ask the fateful question himself. Allthe Andrews family seemed to share in his pride and pleasure, fromMrs. Harmon in the pew to Jane in the choir. Jane had resigned from theAvonlea school and intended to go West in the fall.

  "Can't get a beau in Avonlea, that's what," said Mrs. Rachel Lyndescornfully. "SAYS she thinks she'll have better health out West. I neverheard her health was poor before."

  "Jane is a nice girl," Anne had said loyally. "She never tried toattract 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'swhat. What else would take her out West to some forsaken place whoseonly recommendation is that men are plenty and women scarce? Don't youtell me!"

  But it was not at Jane, Anne gazed that day in dismay and surprise. Itwas at Ruby Gillis, who sat beside her in the choir. What had happenedto Ruby? She was even handsomer than ever; but her blue eyes weretoo bright and lustrous, and the color of her cheeks was hecticallybrilliant; besides, she was very thin; the hands that held her hymn-bookwere almost transparent in their delicacy.

  "Is Ruby Gillis ill?" Anne asked of Mrs. Lynde, as they went home fromchurch.

  "Ruby Gillis is dying of galloping consumption," said Mrs. Lyndebluntly. "Everybody knows it except herself and her FAMILY. They won'tgive in. If you ask THEM, she's perfectly well. She hasn't been ableto teach since she had that attack of congestion in the winter, but shesays she's going to teach again in the fall, and she's after the WhiteSands school. She'll be in her grave, poor girl, when White Sands schoolopens, 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 theold tie of school-girl intimacy was there, and made itself felt sharplyin the tug the news gave at Anne's heartstrings. Ruby, the brilliant,the merry, the coquettish! It was impossible to associate the thought ofher with anything like death. She had greeted Anne with gay cordialityafter church, and urged her to come up the next evening.

  "I'll be away Tuesday and Wednesday evenings," she had whisperedtriumphantly. "There's a concert at Carmody and a party at White Sands.Herb Spencer's going to take me. He's my LATEST. Be sure to come uptomorrow. I'm dying for a good talk with you. I want to hear all aboutyour doings at Redmond."

  Anne knew that Ruby meant that she wanted to tell Anne all about her ownrecent flirtations, but she promised to go, and Diana offered to go withher.

  "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'tgo alone. It's so awful to hear Ruby rattling on as she does, andpretending there is nothing the matter with her, even when she canhardly speak for coughing. She's fighting so hard for her life, and yetshe hasn't any chance at all, they say."

  The girls walked silently down the red, twilit road. The robins weresinging vespers in the high treetops, filling the golden air with theirjubilant voices. The silver fluting of the frogs came from marshes andponds, over fields where seeds were beginning to stir with life andthrill to the sunshine and rain that had drifted over them. The airwas fragrant with the wild, sweet, wholesome smell of young raspberrycopses. White mists were hovering in the silent hollows and violet starswere shining bluely on the brooklands.

  "What a beautiful sunset," said Diana. "Look, Anne, it's just like aland in itself, isn't it? That long, low back of purple cloud is theshore, 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 oldcomposition--you remember?--how nice it would be," said Anne, rousingfrom her reverie. "Do you think we could find all our yesterdays there,Diana--all our old springs and blossoms? The beds of flowers that Paulsaw 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 witheverything 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 betrue, 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 forAunt Atossa."

  "Who is Aunt Atossa?"

  "Oh, haven't you heard? She's Mrs. Samson Coates of Spencervale--Mrs.Elisha Wright's aunt. She's father's aunt, too. Her husband died lastwinter and she was left very poor and lonely, so the Wrights took her tolive with them. Mother thought we ought to take her, but father put hisfoot 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 Dianasignificantly. "Father says she has a face like a hatchet--it cuts theair. But her tongue is sharper still."

  Late as it was Aunt Atossa was cutting potato sets in the Wrightkitchen. She wore a faded old wrapper, and her gray hair was decidedlyuntidy. Aunt Atossa did not like being "caught in a kilter," so she wentout 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 agood deal."

  There was no doubt Aunt Atossa thought there was plenty of room forfurther improvement. She ceased not from cutting sets with much energy.

  "Is it any use to ask you to sit down?" she inquired sarcastically. "Ofcourse, there's nothing very entertaining here for you. The rest are allaway."

  "Mother sent you this little pot of rhubarb jelly," said Dianapleasantly. "She made it today and thought you might like some."

  "Oh, thanks," said Aunt Atossa sourly. "I never fancy your mother'sjelly--she always makes it too sweet. However, I'll try to worry somedown. My appetite's been dreadful poor this spring. I'm far from well,"continued Aunt Atossa solemnly, "but still I keep a-doing. People whocan't work aren't wanted here. If it isn't too much trouble will you becondescending enough to set the jelly in the pantry? I'm in a hurry toget these spuds done tonight. I suppose you two LADIES never do anythinglike 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. Ofcourse," she added teasingly, "I did my hands up in lemon juice and kidgloves every night after it."

  Aunt Atossa sniffed.

  "I suppose you got that notion out of some of those silly magazines youread so many of. I wonder your mother allows you. But she alwa
ys spoiledyou. We all thought when George married her she wouldn't be a suitablewife for him."

  Aunt Atossa sighed heavily, as if all forebodings upon the occasion ofGeorge Barry's marriage had been amply and darkly fulfilled.

  "Going, are you?" she inquired, as the girls rose. "Well, I suppose youcan't find much amusement talking to an old woman like me. It's such apity 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 RubyGillis. The doctors say consumption's catching. I always knew Ruby'd getsomething, gadding off to Boston last fall for a visit. People who ain'tcontent to stay home always catch something."

  "People who don't go visiting catch things, too. Sometimes they evendie," said Diana solemnly.

  "Then they don't have themselves to blame for it," retorted Aunt Atossatriumphantly. "I 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 complexion and hair. And the Wrights areterrible fickle. You ought to wear a hat, MISS SHIRLEY. Your nose isfreckling scandalous. My, but you ARE redheaded! Well, I s'pose we'reall as the Lord made us! Give Marilla Cuthbert my respects. She's neverbeen to see me since I come to Avonlea, but I s'pose I oughtn't tocomplain. The Cuthberts always did think themselves a cut higher thanany 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 ofliving all your life with a name like Atossa! Wouldn't it sour almostany one? She should have tried to imagine her name was Cordelia. Itmight have helped her a great deal. It certainly helped me in the dayswhen 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'mglad that's over. She's so malicious--she seems to put a bad flavor ineverything. Father tells such a funny story about her. One time they hada minister in Spencervale who was a very good, spiritual man but verydeaf. He couldn't hear any ordinary conversation at all. Well, they usedto have a prayer meeting on Sunday evenings, and all the church memberspresent would get up and pray in turn, or say a few words on some Bibleverse. But one evening Aunt Atossa bounced up. She didn't either pray orpreach. Instead, she lit into everybody else in the church and gave thema fearful raking down, calling them right out by name and telling themhow they all had behaved, and casting up all the quarrels and scandalsof the past ten years. Finally she wound up by saying that she wasdisgusted with Spencervale church and she never meant to darken its dooragain, and she hoped a fearful judgment would come upon it. Then she satdown 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 ourdear 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 ifI could write a short story--a story that would be good enough to bepublished?"

  "Why, of course you could," said Diana, after she had grasped theamazing suggestion. "You used to write perfectly thrilling stories yearsago in our old Story Club."

  "Well, I hardly meant one of that kind of stories," smiled Anne. "I'vebeen 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 wererejected. But I'm sure yours wouldn't be, Anne, for it's likely editorshave more sense nowadays."

  "Margaret Burton, one of the Junior girls at Redmond, wrote a story lastwinter and it was published in the Canadian Woman. I really do think Icould 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 whatkind 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 thisis very necessary from an editor's point of view. The only thing I'vesettled on is the heroine's name. It is to be AVERIL LESTER. Ratherpretty, don't you think? Don't mention this to any one, Diana. I haven'ttold anybody but you and Mr. Harrison. HE wasn't very encouraging--hesaid there was far too much trash written nowadays as it was, and he'dexpected something better of me, after a year at college."

  "What does Mr. Harrison know about it?" demanded Diana scornfully.

  They found the Gillis home gay with lights and callers. Leonard Kimball,of Spencervale, and Morgan Bell, of Carmody, were glaring at each otheracross the parlor. Several merry girls had dropped in. Ruby was dressedin white and her eyes and cheeks were very brilliant. She laughed andchattered incessantly, and after the other girls had gone she took Anneupstairs to display her new summer dresses.

  "I've a blue silk to make up yet, but it's a little heavy for summerwear. I think I'll leave it until the fall. I'm going to teach in WhiteSands, you know. How do you like my hat? That one you had on in churchyesterday was real dinky. But I like something brighter for myself.Did you notice those two ridiculous boys downstairs? They've both comedetermined to sit each other out. I don't care a single bit about eitherof them, you know. Herb Spencer is the one I like. Sometimes I reallydo think he's MR. RIGHT. At Christmas I thought the Spencervaleschoolmaster was that. But I found out something about him that turnedme against him. He nearly went insane when I turned him down. I wishthose two boys hadn't come tonight. I wanted to have a nice good talkwith you, Anne, and tell you such heaps of things. You and I were alwaysgood chums, weren't we?"

  Ruby slipped her arm about Anne's waist with a shallow little laugh. Butjust 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 wantyou."

  "Are you feeling quite well, Ruby?"

  "Me! Why, I'm perfectly well. I never felt better in my life. Of course,that congestion last winter pulled me down a little. But just see mycolor. I don't look much like an invalid, I'm sure."

  Ruby's voice was almost sharp. She pulled her arm away from Anne, asif in resentment, and ran downstairs, where she was gayer than ever,apparently so much absorbed in bantering her two swains that Diana andAnne felt rather out of it and soon went away.