Anne's House of Dreams
Page 14
CHAPTER 14
NOVEMBER DAYS
The splendor of color which had glowed for weeks along the shores ofFour Winds Harbor had faded out into the soft gray-blue of lateautumnal hills. There came many days when fields and shores were dimwith misty rain, or shivering before the breath of a melancholysea-wind--nights, too, of storm and tempest, when Anne sometimeswakened to pray that no ship might be beating up the grim north shore,for if it were so not even the great, faithful light whirling throughthe darkness unafraid, could avail to guide it into safe haven.
"In November I sometimes feel as if spring could never come again," shesighed, grieving over the hopeless unsightliness of her frosted andbedraggled flower-plots. The gay little garden of the schoolmaster'sbride was rather a forlorn place now, and the Lombardies and bircheswere under bare poles, as Captain Jim said. But the fir-wood behindthe little house was forever green and staunch; and even in Novemberand December there came gracious days of sunshine and purple hazes,when the harbor danced and sparkled as blithely as in midsummer, andthe gulf was so softly blue and tender that the storm and the wild windseemed only things of a long-past dream.
Anne and Gilbert spent many an autumn evening at the lighthouse. Itwas always a cheery place. Even when the east wind sang in minor andthe sea was dead and gray, hints of sunshine seemed to be lurking allabout it. Perhaps this was because the First Mate always paraded it inpanoply of gold. He was so large and effulgent that one hardly missedthe sun, and his resounding purrs formed a pleasant accompaniment tothe laughter and conversation which went on around Captain Jim'sfireplace. Captain Jim and Gilbert had many long discussions and highconverse on matters beyond the ken of cat or king.
"I like to ponder on all kinds of problems, though I can't solve 'em,"said Captain Jim. "My father held that we should never talk of thingswe couldn't understand, but if we didn't, doctor, the subjects forconversation would be mighty few. I reckon the gods laugh many a timeto hear us, but what matters so long as we remember that we're only menand don't take to fancying that we're gods ourselves, really, knowinggood and evil. I reckon our pow-wows won't do us or anyone much harm,so let's have another whack at the whence, why and whither thisevening, doctor."
While they "whacked," Anne listened or dreamed. Sometimes Leslie wentto the lighthouse with them, and she and Anne wandered along the shorein the eerie twilight, or sat on the rocks below the lighthouse untilthe darkness drove them back to the cheer of the driftwood fire. ThenCaptain Jim would brew them tea and tell them
"tales of land and sea And whatsoever might betide The great forgotten world outside."
Leslie seemed always to enjoy those lighthouse carousals very much, andbloomed out for the time being into ready wit and beautiful laughter,or glowing-eyed silence. There was a certain tang and savor in theconversation when Leslie was present which they missed when she wasabsent. Even when she did not talk she seemed to inspire others tobrilliancy. Captain Jim told his stories better, Gilbert was quickerin argument and repartee, Anne felt little gushes and trickles of fancyand imagination bubbling to her lips under the influence of Leslie'spersonality.
"That girl was born to be a leader in social and intellectual circles,far away from Four Winds," she said to Gilbert as they walked home onenight. "She's just wasted here--wasted."
"Weren't you listening to Captain Jim and yours truly the other nightwhen we discussed that subject generally? We came to the comfortingconclusion that the Creator probably knew how to run His universe quiteas well as we do, and that, after all, there are no such things as'wasted' lives, saving and except when an individual wilfully squandersand wastes his own life--which Leslie Moore certainly hasn't done. Andsome people might think that a Redmond B.A., whom editors werebeginning to honor, was 'wasted' as the wife of a struggling countrydoctor in the rural community of Four Winds."
"Gilbert!"
"If you had married Roy Gardner, now," continued Gilbert mercilessly,"YOU could have been 'a leader in social and intellectual circles faraway from Four Winds.'"
"Gilbert BLYTHE!"
"You KNOW you were in love with him at one time, Anne."
"Gilbert, that's mean--'pisen mean, just like all the men,' as MissCornelia says. I NEVER was in love with him. I only imagined I was.YOU know that. You KNOW I'd rather be your wife in our house of dreamsand fulfillment than a queen in a palace."
Gilbert's answer was not in words; but I am afraid that both of themforgot poor Leslie speeding her lonely way across the fields to a housethat was neither a palace nor the fulfillment of a dream.
The moon was rising over the sad, dark sea behind them andtransfiguring it. Her light had not yet reached the harbor, thefurther side of which was shadowy and suggestive, with dim coves andrich glooms and jewelling lights.
"How the home lights shine out tonight through the dark!" said Anne."That string of them over the harbor looks like a necklace. And what acoruscation there is up at the Glen! Oh, look, Gilbert; there is ours.I'm so glad we left it burning. I hate to come home to a dark house.OUR homelight, Gilbert! Isn't it lovely to see?"
"Just one of earth's many millions of homes, Anne--girl--butours--OURS--our beacon in 'a naughty world.' When a fellow has a homeand a dear, little, red-haired wife in it what more need he ask oflife?"
"Well, he might ask ONE thing more," whispered Anne happily. "Oh,Gilbert, it seems as if I just COULDN'T wait for the spring."