The Complete Anne of Green (109 page)

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Authors: L. M. Montgomery

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BOOK: The Complete Anne of Green
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‘She’s so unhappy. If there was anything I could do!’

An idea popped into Anne’s head. She had always been a prey to impulse. Darting into the kitchen, she snatched up a little hand-lamp alight there, sped up the back stairs and up another flight to the attic. She set the light in the dormer window that looked out across the harbour. The trees hid it from the dancers.

‘He may see it and come. I suppose Nora will be furious with me, but that won’t matter if he only comes. And now to wrap up a bit of wedding-cake for Rebecca Dew.’

Jim Wilcox did not come. Anne gave up looking for him after a while, and forgot him in the merriment of the evening. Nora had disappeared, and Aunt Mouser for a wonder had gone to bed. It was eleven o’clock when the revelry ceased and the tired moonlighters yawned their way upstairs. Anne was so sleepy that she never thought of the light in the attic. But at two o’clock Aunt Mouser crept into the room and flashed a candle in the girls’ faces.

‘Goodness, what’s the matter?’ gasped Dot Fraser, sitting up in bed.

‘S-s-s-sh!’ warned Aunt Mouser, her eyes nearly popping out of her head. ‘I think there’s someone in the house. I
know
there is. What is that noise?’

‘Sounds like a cat mewing or a dog barking,’ giggled Dot.

‘Nothing of the sort,’ said Aunt Mouser severely. ‘I know there’s a dog barking in the barn, but that is not what wakened me. It was a bump – a loud, distinct bump.’

‘ “From ghosties and ghoulies and lang-legged beasties and things that go bump in the night, good Lord, deliver us,” ’ murmured Anne.

‘Miss Shirley, this ain’t any laughing matter. There’s burglars in this house. I’m going to call Samuel.’

Aunt Mouser disappeared, and the girls looked at each other.

‘Do you suppose…? All the wedding presents are down in the library,’ said Anne.

‘I’m going to get up, anyhow,’ said Mamie. ‘Anne, did you ever see anything like Aunt Mouser’s face when she held the candle low and the shadows fell upward, and all those wisps of hair hanging about it? Talk of the Witch of Endor!’

Four girls in kimonos slipped out into the hall. Aunt Mouser was coming along it, followed by Dr Nelson in dressing-gown and slippers. Mrs Nelson, who couldn’t find her kimono, was sticking a terrified face out of her door.

‘Oh, Samuel, don’t take any risks! If it’s burglars they may shoot!’

‘Nonsense! I don’t believe there’s anything,’ said the doctor.

‘I tell you I heard a bump,’ quavered Aunt Mouser.

A couple of boys joined the party, which crept cautiously down the stairs, with the doctor at the head and Aunt Mouser, candle in one hand and poker in the other, bringing up the rear.

There were undoubtedly noises in the library. The doctor opened the door and walked in.

Barnabas, who had contrived to be overlooked in the library when Saul had been taken to the barn, was sitting on the back of the chesterfield, blinking amused eyes. Nora and a young man were standing in the middle of the room, which was dimly lit by another flickering candle. The young man had his arms round Nora, and was holding a large white handkerchief to her face.

‘He’s chloroforming her!’ shrieked Aunt Mouser, letting the poker fall with a tremendous crash.

The young man turned, dropped the handkerchief, and looked foolish. Yet he was a rather nice-looking young man, with crinkly russet eyes and crinkly red-brown hair, not to mention a chin that gave the world assurance of a chine.

Nora snatched the handkerchief up and applied it to her face.

‘Jim Wilcox, what does this mean?’ said the doctor, with exceeding sternness.


I
don’t know what it means,’ said Jim Wilcox rather sulkily. ‘All I know is Nora signalled for me. I didn’t see the light till I got home at one from a Masonic banquet in Summerside, and I sailed right over.’

‘I didn’t signal for you,’ stormed Nora. ‘For pity’s sake, don’t look like that, Father! I wasn’t asleep. I was sitting at my window – I hadn’t undressed – and I saw a man coming up from the shore. When he got near the house I knew it was Jim, so I ran down. And I – I ran into the library door, and made my nose bleed. He’s just been trying to stop it.’

‘I jumped in at the window and knocked over that bench.’

‘I told you I heard a bump,’ said Aunt Mouser.

‘And now Nora says she didn’t signal for me, so I’ll just relieve you of my unwelcome presence, with apologies to all concerned.’

‘It’s really too bad to have disturbed your night’s rest and brought you all the way over the bay on a wild-goose chase,’ said Nora as icily as possible, while hunting for a bloodless spot on Jim’s handkerchief.

‘Wild-
goose
chase is right,’ said the doctor.

‘You’d better try a door-key down your back,’ said Aunt Mouser.

‘It was I who put the light in the window,’ said Anne shamefacedly, ‘and then I forgot –’

‘You dared!’ cried Nora. ‘I’ll never forgive you!’

‘Have you all gone crazy?’ said the doctor irritably. ‘What’s all the fuss about, anyhow? For heaven’s sake, put that window down, Jim! There’s a wind blowing in fit to chill you to the bone. Nora, hang your head back, and your nose will be all right.’

Nora was shedding tears of rage and shame. Mingled with the blood on her face, they made her a fearsome sight. Jim Wilcox looked as if he wished the floor would open and gently drop him in the cellar.

‘Well,’ said Aunt Mouser belligerently, ‘all you can do now is marry her, Jim Wilcox. She’ll never get a husband if it gets round that she was found here with you at two o’clock at night.’

‘Marry her!’ cried Jim in exasperation. ‘What have I wanted all my life but to marry her? Never wanted anything else!’

‘Then why didn’t you say so long ago?’ demanded Nora, whirling about to face him.

‘Say so? You’ve snubbed and frozen and jeered at me for years. You’ve gone out of your way times without number to show me how you despised me. I didn’t think it was the least use to ask you. And last January you said –’

‘You goaded me into saying it!’


I
goaded you! I like that! You picked a quarrel with me just to get rid of me –’

‘I didn’t. I –’

‘And yet I was fool enough to tear over here in the dead of night because I thought you’d put our old signal in the window and wanted me! Ask you to marry me! Well, I’ll ask you now and have done with it, and you can have the fun of turning me down before all this gang. Nora Edith Nelson, will you marry me?’

‘Oh, won’t I – won’t I!’ cried Nora so shamelessly that even Barnabas blushed for here.

Jim gave her one incredulous look, then sprang at her. Perhaps her nose had stopped bleeding, perhaps it hadn’t. It didn’t matter.

‘I think you’ve all forgotten that this is the Sabbath morn,’ said Aunt Mouser, who had just remembered it herself. ‘I could do with a cup of tea, if anyone would make it. I ain’t used to demonstrations like this. All I hope is poor Nora has really landed him at last. At least, she has witnesses.’

They went to the kitchen, and Mrs Nelson came down and made tea for them; all except Jim and Nora, who remained closeted in the library, with Barnabas for chaperon. Anne did not see Nora until the morning – such a different Nora, ten years younger, flushed with happiness.

‘I owe this to you, Anne. If you hadn’t set the light… Though just for two and a half minutes last night I could have chewed your ears off!’

‘And to think I slept through it all!’ moaned Tommy Nelson heart-brokenly.

But the last word was with Aunt Mouser.

‘Well, all I hope is it won’t be a case of marrying in haste and repenting at leisure.’

18

Extract from a letter to Gilbert

School closed today. Two months of Green Gables, and dew-wet, spicy ferns ankle-deep along the brook, and lazy, dappling shadows in Lovers’ Lane, and wild strawberries in Mr Bell’s pasture, and the dark loveliness of firs in the Haunted Wood! My very soul has wings.

Jen Pringle brought me a bouquet of lilies-of-the-valley, and wished me a happy vacation. She’s coming down to spend a week-end with me some time. Talk of miracles! .

But little Elizabeth is heart-broken. I wanted her for a visit too, but Mrs Campbell did not ‘deem it advisable’. Luckily I hadn’t said anything to Elizabeth about it, so she was spared that disappointment.

‘I believe I’ll be Lizzie all the time you’re away, Miss Shirley,’ she told me. ‘I’ll
feel
like Lizzie, anyway.’

‘But think of the fun we’ll have when I come back,’ I said. ‘Of course you won’t be Lizzie. There’s no such person as Lizzie in you. And I’ll write you every week, little Elizabeth.’

‘Oh, Miss Shirley, will you? I’ve never had a letter in my life. Won’t it be fun! And I’ll write you if they’ll let me have a stamp. If they don’t you’ll know I’m thinking of you just the same. I’ve called the chipmunk in the backyard after you – Shirley. You don’t mind, do you? I thought at first of calling it Anne Shirley, but then I thought that mightn’t be respectful. And, anyway, “Anne” doesn’t sound chipmunky. Besides, it might be a gentleman chipmunk. Chipmunks are such darling things, aren’t they? But the Woman says they eat the rose-bush roots.’

‘She would!’ I said.

I asked Katherine Brooke where she was going to spend the summer, and she briefly answered, ‘Here. Where do you suppose?’

I felt as if I ought to ask her to Green Gables, but I just couldn’t. Of course, I don’t suppose she’d have come, anyway. And she’s such a kill-joy. She’d spoil everything. But when I think of her alone in that cheap boarding-house all summer my conscience gives me unpleasant jabs.

Dusty Miller brought in a live snake the other day and dropped it on the floor of the kitchen. If Rebecca Dew could have turned pale she would have. ‘This
is
really the last straw,’ she said. But Rebecca Dew is just a little peevish these days, because she has to spend all her spare time picking big grey-green beetles off the rose-trees and dropping them in a can of kerosene. She thinks there are entirely too many insects in the world.

‘It’s just going to be eaten up by them some day,’ she predicts mournfully.

Nora Nelson is to be married to Jim Wilcox in September. Very quietly: no fuss, no guests, no bridesmaids. Nora told me that was the only way to escape Aunt Mouser, and she will
not
have Aunt Mouser to see her married. I’m to be present, however, sort of unofficially. Nora says Jim would never have come back if I hadn’t set that light in the window. He was going to sell his store and go West. Well, when I think of all the matches I’m supposed to have made…!!!

Sally says they’ll fight most of their time, but that they’ll be happier fighting with each other than agreeing with anybody else. But I don’t think they’ll fight – much. I think it is just misunderstanding that makes most of the trouble in the world. You and I for so long now…

Goodnight, belovedest. Your sleep will be sweet if there is any influence in the wishes of

Y
OUR
O
WN

P.S. The above sentence is quoted verbatim from a letter of Aunt Chatty’s grandmother’s.

T
HE
S
ECOND
Y
EAR

1

Windy Willows

Spook’s Lane

Sept. 14

I can hardly reconcile myself to the fact that our beautiful two months are over. They
were
beautiful, weren’t they, dearest? And now it will be only two years before…

(Several paragraphs omitted)

But there has been a good deal of pleasure in coming back to Windy Willows – to my own private tower and my own special chair and my own lofty bed, and even Dusty Miller basking on the kitchen window-sill.

The widows were glad to see me, and Rebecca Dew said frankly, ‘It’s good to have you back.’ Little Elizabeth felt the same way. We had a rapturous meeting at the green gate.

‘I was a little afraid you might have got into Tomorrow before me,’ said little Elizabeth.

‘Isn’t this a lovely evening?’ I said.

‘Where you are it’s always a lovely evening, Miss Shirley,’ said little Elizabeth.

Talk of compliments!

‘How have you put in the summer, darling?’ I asked.

‘Thinking,’ said little Elizabeth softly, ‘of all the lovely things that will happen in Tomorrow.’

Then we went up to the tower room and read a story about elephants. Little Elizabeth is very much interested in elephants at present.

‘There is something bewitching about the very name of elephant, isn’t there?’ she said gravely, holding her chin in her small hands after a fashion she has. ‘I expect to meet lots of elephants in Tomorrow.’

We put an elephant park in our map of fairyland. It is no use looking superior and disdainful, my Gilbert, as I know you will be looking when you read this. Not a bit of use. The world always
will
have fairies. It can’t get along without them. And somebody has to supply them.

It’s rather nice to be back in school, too. Katherine Brooke isn’t any more companionable, but my pupils seemed glad to see me, and Jen Pringle wants me to help her make the tin haloes for the angels’ heads in a Sunday-school concert.

I think the course of study this year will be much more interesting than last year’s. Canadian history has been added to the curriculum. I have to give a little ‘lecturette’ tomorrow on the war of 1812. It seems so strange to read over the stories of those old wars – things that can never happen again. I don’t suppose any of us will ever have more than an academic interest in ‘battles long ago’. It’s impossible to think of Canada ever being at war again. I am so thankful that phase of history is over.

We are going to reorganize the Dramatic Club at once and canvass every family connected with the school for a subscription. Lewis Allen and I are going to take the Dawlish road as our territory and canvass it next Saturday afternoon. Lewis will try to kill two birds with one stone, as he is competing for a prize offered by
Country Homes
for the best photograph of an attractive farmhouse. The prize is twenty-five dollars, and that will mean a badly needed new suit and overcoat for Lewis. He worked on a farm all summer, and is doing housework and waiting on the table at his boarding-house again this year. He must hate it, but he never says a word about it. I do like Lewis; he is so plucky and ambitious, with a charming grin in place of a smile. And he really isn’t over-strong. I was afraid last year he would break down. But his summer on the farm seems to have built him up a bit. This is his last year in High, and then he hopes to achieve a year at Queen’s. The widows are going to ask him to Sunday-night supper as often as possible this winter. Aunt Kate and I have had a conference on ways and means, and I persuaded her to let me put up the extras. Of course, we didn’t try to persuade Rebecca Dew. I merely asked Aunt Kate in Rebecca’s hearing if I could have Lewis Allen in on Sunday nights at least twice a month. Aunt Kate said coldly she was afraid they couldn’t afford it in addition to their usual lonely girl.

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