Anne of the Island Page 7

  Chapter VII

  Home Again

  Those first three weeks at Redmond had seemed long; but the rest ofthe term flew by on wings of wind. Before they realized it the Redmondstudents found themselves in the grind of Christmas examinations,emerging therefrom more or less triumphantly. The honor of leading inthe Freshman classes fluctuated between Anne, Gilbert and Philippa;Priscilla did very well; Charlie Sloane scraped through respectably, andcomported himself as complacently as if he had led in everything.

  "I can't really believe that this time tomorrow I'll be in GreenGables," said Anne on the night before departure. "But I shall be. Andyou, Phil, will be in Bolingbroke with Alec and Alonzo."

  "I'm longing to see them," admitted Phil, between the chocolate she wasnibbling. "They really are such dear boys, you know. There's to be noend of dances and drives and general jamborees. I shall never forgiveyou, Queen Anne, for not coming home with me for the holidays."

  "'Never' means three days with you, Phil. It was dear of you to askme--and I'd love to go to Bolingbroke some day. But I can't go thisyear--I MUST go home. You don't know how my heart longs for it."

  "You won't have much of a time," said Phil scornfully. "There'll be oneor two quilting parties, I suppose; and all the old gossips will talkyou over to your face and behind your back. You'll die of lonesomeness,child."

  "In Avonlea?" said Anne, highly amused.

  "Now, if you'd come with me you'd have a perfectly gorgeous time.Bolingbroke would go wild over you, Queen Anne--your hair and your styleand, oh, everything! You're so DIFFERENT. You'd be such a success--andI would bask in reflected glory--'not the rose but near the rose.' Docome, after all, Anne."

  "Your picture of social triumphs is quite fascinating, Phil, but I'llpaint one to offset it. I'm going home to an old country farmhouse, oncegreen, rather faded now, set among leafless apple orchards. There is abrook below and a December fir wood beyond, where I've heard harps sweptby the fingers of rain and wind. There is a pond nearby that will begray 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, onea perfect model, the other what Mrs. Lynde calls a 'holy terror.' Therewill be a little room upstairs over the porch, where old dreams hangthick, and a big, fat, glorious feather bed which will almost seem theheight of luxury after a boardinghouse mattress. How do you like mypicture, Phil?"

  "It seems a very dull one," said Phil, with a grimace.

  "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 neverfind anywhere else in the world--love that's waiting for me. That makesmy picture a masterpiece, doesn't it, even if the colors are not verybrilliant?"

  Phil silently got up, tossed her box of chocolates away, went up toAnne, 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 drovehome together under silent, star-sown depths of sky. Green Gables had avery festal appearance as they drove up the lane. There was a light inevery window, the glow breaking out through the darkness like flame-redblossoms swung against the dark background of the Haunted Wood. And inthe yard was a brave bonfire with two gay little figures dancing aroundit, one of which gave an unearthly yell as the buggy turned in under thepoplars.

  "Davy means that for an Indian war-whoop," said Diana. "Mr. Harrison'shired boy taught it to him, and he's been practicing it up to welcomeyou with. Mrs. Lynde says it has worn her nerves to a frazzle. He creepsup behind her, you know, and then lets go. He was determined to have abonfire for you, too. He's been piling up branches for a fortnightand pestering Marilla to be let pour some kerosene oil over it beforesetting it on fire. I guess she did, by the smell, though Mrs. Lyndesaid up to the last that Davy would blow himself and everybody else upif he was let."

  Anne was out of the buggy by this time, and Davy was rapturously huggingher knees, while even Dora was clinging to her hand.

  "Isn't that a bully bonfire, Anne? Just let me show you how to pokeit--see the sparks? I did it for you, Anne, 'cause I was so glad youwere coming home."

  The kitchen door opened and Marilla's spare form darkened against theinner light. She preferred to meet Anne in the shadows, for shewas horribly afraid that she was going to cry with joy--she, stern,repressed Marilla, who thought all display of deep emotion unseemly.Mrs. Lynde was behind her, sonsy, kindly, matronly, as of yore. The lovethat Anne had told Phil was waiting for her surrounded her and enfoldedher with its blessing and its sweetness. Nothing, after all, couldcompare with old ties, old friends, and old Green Gables! How starryAnne's eyes were as they sat down to the loaded supper table, how pinkher cheeks, how silver-clear her laughter! And Diana was going to stayall night, too. How like the dear old times it was! And the rose-budtea-set graced the table! With Marilla the force of nature could nofurther go.

  "I suppose you and Diana will now proceed to talk all night," saidMarilla sarcastically, as the girls went upstairs. Marilla was alwayssarcastic after any self-betrayal.

  "Yes," agreed Anne gaily, "but I'm going to put Davy to bed first. Heinsists on that."

  "You bet," said Davy, as they went along the hall. "I want somebody tosay my prayers to again. It's no 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 Ican 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 didnot seem in a hurry to begin. He stood before Anne, shuffling one barefoot over the other, and looked undecided.

  "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 afterall. I haven't felt like it for a week now. I--I DIDN'T pray last nightnor the night before."

  "Why not, Davy?" asked Anne gently.

  "You--you won't be mad if I tell you?" implored Davy.

  Anne lifted the little gray-flannelled body on her knee and cuddled hishead 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 beawful sorry when I tell you this, Anne--and you'll be 'shamed of me, Is'pose."

  "Have you done something naughty, Davy, and is that why you can't sayyour 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 desperateeffort. "I heard Mr. Harrison'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'msaying 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 thedreadful word. The next minute his face was burrowing against her.

  "Oh, Anne, I'll never say it again--never. I'll never WANT to say itagain. I knew it was bad, but I didn't s'pose it was so--so--I didn'ts'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 Iwere 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--wordsthat 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 ifyou could say your prayers, Davy?"

  "Oh, yes," said Davy, eagerly wriggling down on his knees, "I can saythem now all right. I ain't scared now to say 'if I should die before Iwake,' like I
was when I was wanting to say that word."

  Probably Anne and Diana did empty out their souls to each other thatnight, but no record of their confidences has been preserved. They bothlooked as fresh and bright-eyed at breakfast as only youth can lookafter unlawful hours of revelry and confession. There had been no snowup to this time, but as Diana crossed the old log bridge on her homewardway the white flakes were beginning to flutter down over the fieldsand woods, russet and gray in their dreamless sleep. Soon the far-awayslopes 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 waswaiting for her wintry bridegroom. So they had a white Christmas afterall, and a very pleasant day it was. In the forenoon letters and giftscame from Miss Lavendar and Paul; Anne opened them in the cheerful GreenGables 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 Lavendar is perfectly happy--I know itby the general tone of her letter--but there's a note from Charlotta theFourth. She doesn't like Boston at all, and she is fearfully homesick.Miss Lavendar wants me to go through to Echo Lodge some day whileI'm home and light a fire to air it, and see that the cushions aren'tgetting moldy. I think I'll get Diana to go over with me next week, andwe can spend the evening with Theodora Dix. I want to see Theodora. Bythe way, is Ludovic Speed still going to see her?"

  "They say so," said Marilla, "and he's likely to continue it. Folks havegiven 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 slightest doubt but that she would.

  There was also a characteristic scrawl from Philippa, full of Alec andAlonzo, what they said and what they did, and how they looked when theysaw her.

  "But I can't make up my mind yet which to marry," wrote Phil. "I do wishyou had come with me to decide for me. Some one will have to. When I sawAlec my heart gave a great thump and I thought, 'He might be the rightone.' And then, when Alonzo came, thump went my heart again. So that'sno guide, though it should be, according to all the novels I've everread. Now, Anne, YOUR heart wouldn't thump for anybody but the genuinePrince Charming, would it? There must be something radically wrong withmine. But I'm having a perfectly gorgeous time. How I wish you werehere! It's snowing today, and I'm rapturous. I was so afraid we'd havea green Christmas and I loathe them. You know, when Christmas is a dirtygrayey-browney affair, looking as if it had been left over a hundredyears ago and had been in soak ever since, it is called a GREENChristmas! Don't ask me why. As Lord Dundreary says, 'there are thomethingth no fellow can underthtand.'

  "Anne, did you ever get on a street car and then discover that youhadn't any money with you to pay your fare? I did, the other day. It'squite awful. I had a nickel with me when I got on the car. I thought itwas in the left pocket of my coat. When I got settled down comfortablyI felt for it. It wasn't there. I had a cold chill. I felt in the otherpocket. Not there. I had another chill. Then I felt in a little insidepocket. All in vain. I had two chills at once.

  "I took off my gloves, laid them on the seat, and went over all mypockets again. It was not there. I stood up and shook myself, and thenlooked on the floor. The car was full of people, who were going homefrom the opera, and they all stared at me, but I was past caring for alittle thing like that.

  "But I could not find my fare. I concluded I must have put it in mymouth and swallowed it inadvertently.

  "I didn't know what to do. Would the conductor, I wondered, stop thecar and put me off in ignominy and shame? Was it possible that I couldconvince him that I was merely the victim of my own absentmindedness,and not an unprincipled creature trying to obtain a ride upon falsepretenses? How I wished that Alec or Alonzo were there. But they weren'tbecause I wanted them. If I HADN'T wanted them they would have beenthere by the dozen. And I couldn't decide what to say to the conductorwhen he came around. As soon as I got one sentence of explanationmapped out in my mind I felt nobody could believe it and I must composeanother. It seemed there was nothing to do but trust in Providence, andfor all the comfort that gave me I might as well have been the old ladywho, when told by the captain during a storm that she must put her trustin the Almighty exclaimed, 'Oh, Captain, is it as bad as that?'

  "Just at the conventional moment, when all hope had fled, and theconductor was holding out his box to the passenger next to me, Isuddenly 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 indexfinger of my glove and poked it in the box. I smiled at everybody andfelt that it was a beautiful world."

  The visit to Echo Lodge was not the least pleasant of many pleasantholiday outings. Anne and Diana went back to it by the old way of thebeech woods, carrying a lunch basket with them. Echo Lodge, which hadbeen closed ever since Miss Lavendar's wedding, was briefly thrown opento wind and sunshine once more, and firelight glimmered again in thelittle rooms. The perfume of Miss Lavendar's rose bowl still filled theair. It was hardly possible to believe that Miss Lavendar would not cometripping in presently, with her brown eyes a-star with welcome, andthat Charlotta the Fourth, blue of bow and wide of smile, would notpop through the door. Paul, too, seemed hovering around, with his fairyfancies.

  "It really makes me feel a little bit like a ghost revisiting the oldtime glimpses of the moon," laughed Anne. "Let's go out and see if theechoes are at home. Bring the old horn. It is still behind the kitchendoor."

  The echoes were at home, over the white river, as silver-clear andmultitudinous as ever; and when they had ceased to answer the girlslocked up Echo Lodge again and went away in the perfect half hour thatfollows the rose and saffron of a winter sunset.