Anne's House of Dreams by Lucy Maud Montgomery (free ebooks for android .txt) đ
- Author: Lucy Maud Montgomery
- Performer: 0553213180
Book online «Anne's House of Dreams by Lucy Maud Montgomery (free ebooks for android .txt) đ». Author Lucy Maud Montgomery
Only a month! Marilla sighed and then said proudly:
âIâm giving Anne that half dozen braided rugs I have in the garret. I never supposed sheâd want themâtheyâre so old-fashioned, and nobody seems to want anything but hooked mats now. But she asked me for themâsaid sheâd rather have them than anything else for her floors. They ARE pretty. I made them of the nicest rags, and braided them in stripes. It was such company these last few winters. And Iâll make her enough blue plum preserve to stock her jam closet for a year. It seems real strange. Those blue plum trees hadnât even a blossom for three years, and I thought they might as well be cut down. And this last spring they were white, and such a crop of plums I never remember at Green Gables.â
âWell, thank goodness that Anne and Gilbert really are going to be married after all. Itâs what Iâve always prayed for,â said Mrs. Rachel, in the tone of one who is comfortably sure that her prayers have availed much. âIt was a great relief to find out that she really didnât mean to take the Kingsport man. He was rich, to be sure, and Gilbert is poorâat least, to begin with; but then heâs an Island boy.â
âHeâs Gilbert Blythe,â said Marilla contentedly. Marilla would have died the death before she would have put into words the thought that was always in the background of her mind whenever she had looked at Gilbert from his childhood upâthe thought that, had it not been for her own wilful pride long, long ago, he might have been HER son. Marilla felt that, in some strange way, his marriage with Anne would put right that old mistake. Good had come out of the evil of the ancient bitterness.
As for Anne herself, she was so happy that she almost felt frightened. The gods, so says the old superstition, do not like to behold too happy mortals. It is certain, at least, that some human beings do not. Two of that ilk descended upon Anne one violet dusk and proceeded to do what in them lay to prick the rainbow bubble of her satisfaction. If she thought she was getting any particular prize in young Dr. Blythe, or if she imagined that he was still as infatuated with her as he might have been in his salad days, it was surely their duty to put the matter before her in another light. Yet these two worthy ladies were not enemies of Anne; on the contrary, they were really quite fond of her, and would have defended her as their own young had anyone else attacked her. Human nature is not obliged to be consistent.
Mrs. Inglisânee Jane Andrews, to quote from the Daily Enterpriseâcame with her mother and Mrs. Jasper Bell. But in Jane the milk of human kindness had not been curdled by years of matrimonial bickerings. Her lines had fallen in pleasant places. In spite of the factâas Mrs. Rachel Lynde would sayâthat she had married a millionaire, her marriage had been happy. Wealth had not spoiled her. She was still the placid, amiable, pink-cheeked Jane of the old quartette, sympathising with her old chumâs happiness and as keenly interested in all the dainty details of Anneâs trousseau as if it could rival her own silken and bejewelled splendors. Jane was not brilliant, and had probably never made a remark worth listening to in her life; but she never said anything that would hurt anyoneâs feelingsâ which may be a negative talent but is likewise a rare and enviable one.
âSo Gilbert didnât go back on you after all,â said Mrs. Harmon Andrews, contriving to convey an expression of surprise in her tone. âWell, the Blythes generally keep their word when theyâve once passed it, no matter what happens. Let me seeâyouâre twenty-five, arenât you, Anne? When I was a girl twenty-five was the first corner. But you look quite young. Red-headed people always do.â
âRed hair is very fashionable now,â said Anne, trying to smile, but speaking rather coldly. Life had developed in her a sense of humor which helped her over many difficulties; but as yet nothing had availed to steel her against a reference to her hair.
âSo it isâso it is,â conceded Mrs. Harmon. âThereâs no telling what queer freaks fashion will take. Well, Anne, your things are very pretty, and very suitable to your position in life, arenât they, Jane? I hope youâll be very happy. You have my best wishes, Iâm sure. A long engagement doesnât often turn out well. But, of course, in your case it couldnât be helped.â
âGilbert looks very young for a doctor. Iâm afraid people wonât have much confidence in him,â said Mrs. Jasper Bell gloomily. Then she shut her mouth tightly, as if she had said what she considered it her duty to say and held her conscience clear. She belonged to the type which always has a stringy black feather in its hat and straggling locks of hair on its neck.
Anneâs surface pleasure in her pretty bridal things was temporarily shadowed; but the deeps of happiness below could not thus be disturbed; and the little stings of Mesdames Bell and Andrews were forgotten when Gilbert came later, and they wandered down to the birches of the brook, which had been saplings when Anne had come to Green Gables, but were now tall, ivory columns in a fairy palace of twilight and stars. In their shadows Anne and Gilbert talked in lover-fashion of their new home and their new life together.
âIâve found a nest for us, Anne.â
âOh, where? Not right in the village, I hope. I wouldnât like that altogether.â
âNo. There was no house to be had in the village. This is a little white house on the harbor shore, half way between Glen St. Mary and Four Winds Point. Itâs a little out of the way, but when we get a âphone in that wonât matter so much. The situation is beautiful. It looks to the sunset and has the great blue harbor before it. The sand-dunes arenât very far awayâthe sea winds blow over them and the sea spray drenches them.â
âBut the house itself, Gilbert,âOUR first home? What is it like?â
âNot very large, but large enough for us. Thereâs a splendid living room with a fireplace in it downstairs, and a dining room that looks out on the harbor, and a little room that will do for my office. It is about sixty years oldâthe oldest house in Four Winds. But it has been kept in pretty good repair, and was all done over about fifteen years agoâshingled, plastered and re-floored. It was well built to begin with. I understand that there was some romantic story connected with its building, but the man I rented it from didnât know it.
He said Captain Jim was the only one who could spin that old yarn now.â
âWho is Captain Jim?â
âThe keeper of the lighthouse on Four Winds Point. Youâll love that Four Winds light, Anne. Itâs a revolving one, and it flashes like a magnificent star through the twilights. We can see it from our living room windows and our front door.â
âWho owns the house?â
âWell, itâs the property of the Glen St. Mary Presbyterian Church now, and I rented it from the trustees. But it belonged until lately to a very old lady, Miss Elizabeth Russell. She died last spring, and as she had no near relatives she left her property to the Glen St. Mary Church. Her furniture is still in the house, and I bought most of itâfor a mere song you might say, because it was all so old-fashioned that the trustees despaired of selling it. Glen St. Mary folks prefer plush brocade and sideboards with mirrors and ornamentations, I fancy. But Miss Russellâs furniture is very good and I feel sure youâll like it, Anne.â
âSo far, good,â said Anne, nodding cautious approval. âBut, Gilbert, people cannot live by furniture alone. You havenât yet mentioned one very important thing. Are there TREES about this house?â
âHeaps of them, oh, dryad! There is a big grove of fir trees behind it, two rows of Lombardy poplars down the lane, and a ring of white birches around a very delightful garden. Our front door opens right into the garden, but there is another entranceâa little gate hung between two firs. The hinges are on one trunk and the catch on the other. Their boughs form an arch overhead.â
âOh, Iâm so glad! I couldnât live where there were no treesâ something vital in me would starve. Well, after that, thereâs no use asking you if thereâs a brook anywhere near. THAT would be expecting too much.â
âBut there IS a brookâand it actually cuts across one corner of the garden.â
âThen,â said Anne, with a long sigh of supreme satisfaction, âthis house you have found IS my house of dreams and none other.â
âHave you made up your mind who youâre going to have to the wedding, Anne?â asked Mrs. Rachel Lynde, as she hemstitched table napkins industriously. âItâs time your invitations were sent, even if they are to be only informal ones.â
âI donât mean to have very many,â said Anne. âWe just want those we love best to see us married. Gilbertâs people, and Mr. and Mrs. Allan, and Mr. and Mrs. Harrison.â
âThere was a time when youâd hardly have numbered Mr. Harrison among your dearest friends,â said Marilla drily.
âWell, I wasnât VERY strongly attracted to him at our first meeting,â acknowledged Anne, with a laugh over the recollection. âBut Mr. Harrison has improved on acquaintance, and Mrs. Harrison is really a dear. Then, of course, there are Miss Lavendar and Paul.â
âHave they decided to come to the Island this summer? I thought they were going to Europe.â
âThey changed their minds when I wrote them I was going to be married. I had a letter from Paul today. He says he MUST come to my wedding, no matter what happens to Europe.â
âThat child always idolised you,â remarked Mrs. Rachel.
âThat `childâ is a young man of nineteen now, Mrs. Lynde.â
âHow time does fly!â was Mrs. Lyndeâs brilliant and original response.
âCharlotta the Fourth may come with them. She sent word by Paul that she would come if her husband would let her. I wonder if she still wears those enormous blue bows, and whether her husband calls her Charlotta or Leonora. I should love to have Charlotta at my wedding. Charlotta and I were at a wedding long syne. They expect to be at Echo Lodge next week. Then there are Phil and the Reverend Joâ-â
âIt sounds awful to hear you speaking of a minister like that, Anne,â said Mrs. Rachel severely.
âHis wife calls him that.â
âShe should have more respect for his holy office, then,â retorted Mrs. Rachel.
âIâve heard you criticise ministers pretty sharply yourself,â teased Anne.
âYes, but I do it reverently,â protested Mrs. Lynde. âYou never heard me NICKNAME a minister.â
Anne smothered a smile.
âWell, there are Diana and Fred and little Fred and Small Anne Cordeliaâand Jane Andrews. I wish I could have Miss Stacey and Aunt Jamesina and Priscilla and Stella. But Stella is in Vancouver, and Pris is in Japan, and Miss Stacey is married in California, and Aunt Jamesina has gone to India to explore her daughterâs mission field, in spite of her horror of snakes. Itâs really dreadfulâthe way people get scattered over the globe.â
âThe Lord never intended it, thatâs what,â said Mrs. Rachel authoritatively. âIn my young days people grew up and married and settled down where they were born, or pretty near
Comments (0)