Anne of Green Gables

by L. M. Montgomery

  CHAPTER XXXIV. A Queen's Girl

  |THE next three weeks were busy ones at Green Gables, for Anne wasgetting ready to go to Queen's, and there was much sewing to be done,and many things to be talked over and arranged. Anne's outfit wasample and pretty, for Matthew saw to that, and Marilla for once madeno objections whatever to anything he purchased or suggested. More--oneevening she went up to the east gable with her arms full of a delicatepale green material.

  "Anne, here's something for a nice light dress for you. I don't supposeyou really need it; you've plenty of pretty waists; but I thought maybeyou'd like something real dressy to wear if you were asked out anywhereof an evening in town, to a party or anything like that. I hear thatJane and Ruby and Josie have got 'evening dresses,' as they call them,and I don't mean you shall be behind them. I got Mrs. Allan to help mepick it in town last week, and we'll get Emily Gillis to make it foryou. Emily has got taste, and her fits aren't to be equaled."

  "Oh, Marilla, it's just lovely," said Anne. "Thank you so much. I don'tbelieve you ought to be so kind to me--it's making it harder every dayfor me to go away."

  The green dress was made up with as many tucks and frills and shirringsas Emily's taste permitted. Anne put it on one evening for Matthew'sand Marilla's benefit, and recited "The Maiden's Vow" for them in thekitchen. As Marilla watched the bright, animated face and gracefulmotions her thoughts went back to the evening Anne had arrived at GreenGables, and memory recalled a vivid picture of the odd, frightened childin her preposterous yellowish-brown wincey dress, the heartbreak lookingout of her tearful eyes. Something in the memory brought tears toMarilla's own eyes.

  "I declare, my recitation has made you cry, Marilla," said Anne gailystooping over Marilla's chair to drop a butterfly kiss on that lady'scheek. "Now, I call that a positive triumph."

  "No, I wasn't crying over your piece," said Marilla, who would havescorned to be betrayed into such weakness by any poetry stuff. "I justcouldn't help thinking of the little girl you used to be, Anne. AndI was wishing you could have stayed a little girl, even with all yourqueer ways. You've grown up now and you're going away; and you look sotall and stylish and so--so--different altogether in that dress--as ifyou didn't belong in Avonlea at all--and I just got lonesome thinking itall over."

  "Marilla!" Anne sat down on Marilla's gingham lap, took Marilla's linedface between her hands, and looked gravely and tenderly into Marilla'seyes. "I'm not a bit changed--not really. I'm only just pruned down andbranched out. The real _me_--back here--is just the same. It won't make abit of difference where I go or how much I change outwardly; at heart Ishall always be your little Anne, who will love you and Matthew and dearGreen Gables more and better every day of her life."

  Anne laid her fresh young cheek against Marilla's faded one, and reachedout a hand to pat Matthew's shoulder. Marilla would have given much justthen to have possessed Anne's power of putting her feelings into words;but nature and habit had willed it otherwise, and she could only put herarms close about her girl and hold her tenderly to her heart, wishingthat she need never let her go.

  Matthew, with a suspicious moisture in his eyes, got up and wentout-of-doors. Under the stars of the blue summer night he walkedagitatedly across the yard to the gate under the poplars.

  "Well now, I guess she ain't been much spoiled," he muttered, proudly."I guess my putting in my oar occasional never did much harm after all.She's smart and pretty, and loving, too, which is better than all therest. She's been a blessing to us, and there never was a luckier mistakethan what Mrs. Spencer made--if it _was_ luck. I don't believe it was anysuch thing. It was Providence, because the Almighty saw we needed her, Ireckon."

  The day finally came when Anne must go to town. She and Matthew drovein one fine September morning, after a tearful parting with Diana and anuntearful practical one--on Marilla's side at least--with Marilla. Butwhen Anne had gone Diana dried her tears and went to a beach picnic atWhite Sands with some of her Carmody cousins, where she contrivedto enjoy herself tolerably well; while Marilla plunged fiercely intounnecessary work and kept at it all day long with the bitterest kind ofheartache--the ache that burns and gnaws and cannot wash itself awayin ready tears. But that night, when Marilla went to bed, acutely andmiserably conscious that the little gable room at the end of thehall was untenanted by any vivid young life and unstirred by any softbreathing, she buried her face in her pillow, and wept for her girl ina passion of sobs that appalled her when she grew calm enough to reflecthow very wicked it must be to take on so about a sinful fellow creature.

  Anne and the rest of the Avonlea scholars reached town just in time tohurry off to the Academy. That first day passed pleasantly enough in awhirl of excitement, meeting all the new students, learning to know theprofessors by sight and being assorted and organized into classes. Anneintended taking up the Second Year work being advised to do so by MissStacy; Gilbert Blythe elected to do the same. This meant getting aFirst Class teacher's license in one year instead of two, if they weresuccessful; but it also meant much more and harder work. Jane, Ruby,Josie, Charlie, and Moody Spurgeon, not being troubled with thestirrings of ambition, were content to take up the Second Class work.Anne was conscious of a pang of loneliness when she found herself ina room with fifty other students, not one of whom she knew, except thetall, brown-haired boy across the room; and knowing him in the fashionshe did, did not help her much, as she reflected pessimistically.Yet she was undeniably glad that they were in the same class; the oldrivalry could still be carried on, and Anne would hardly have known whatto do if it had been lacking.

  "I wouldn't feel comfortable without it," she thought. "Gilbert looksawfully determined. I suppose he's making up his mind, here and now, towin the medal. What a splendid chin he has! I never noticed it before.I do wish Jane and Ruby had gone in for First Class, too. I suppose Iwon't feel so much like a cat in a strange garret when I get acquainted,though. I wonder which of the girls here are going to be my friends.It's really an interesting speculation. Of course I promised Diana thatno Queen's girl, no matter how much I liked her, should ever be as dearto me as she is; but I've lots of second-best affections to bestow. Ilike the look of that girl with the brown eyes and the crimson waist.She looks vivid and red-rosy; there's that pale, fair one gazing out ofthe window. She has lovely hair, and looks as if she knew a thing or twoabout dreams. I'd like to know them both--know them well--well enough towalk with my arm about their waists, and call them nicknames. But justnow I don't know them and they don't know me, and probably don't want toknow me particularly. Oh, it's lonesome!"

  It was lonesomer still when Anne found herself alone in her hall bedroomthat night at twilight. She was not to board with the other girls, whoall had relatives in town to take pity on them. Miss Josephine Barrywould have liked to board her, but Beechwood was so far from theAcademy that it was out of the question; so Miss Barry hunted up aboarding-house, assuring Matthew and Marilla that it was the very placefor Anne.

  "The lady who keeps it is a reduced gentlewoman," explained Miss Barry."Her husband was a British officer, and she is very careful what sortof boarders she takes. Anne will not meet with any objectionable personsunder her roof. The table is good, and the house is near the Academy, ina quiet neighborhood."

  All this might be quite true, and indeed, proved to be so, but it didnot materially help Anne in the first agony of homesickness that seizedupon her. She looked dismally about her narrow little room, with itsdull-papered, pictureless walls, its small iron bedstead and emptybook-case; and a horrible choke came into her throat as she thought ofher own white room at Green Gables, where she would have the pleasantconsciousness of a great green still outdoors, of sweet peas growing inthe garden, and moonlight falling on the orchard, of the brook below theslope and the spruce boughs tossing in the night wind beyond it, of avast starry sky, and the light from Diana's window shining out throughthe gap in the trees. Here there was nothing of this; Anne knew thatoutside of her window was a hard street, with a network of telephone
wires shutting out the sky, the tramp of alien feet, and a thousandlights gleaming on stranger faces. She knew that she was going to cry,and fought against it.

  "I _won't_ cry. It's silly--and weak--there's the third tear splashingdown by my nose. There are more coming! I must think of something funnyto stop them. But there's nothing funny except what is connected withAvonlea, and that only makes things worse--four--five--I'm going homenext Friday, but that seems a hundred years away. Oh, Matthew is nearlyhome by now--and Marilla is at the gate, looking down the lane forhim--six--seven--eight--oh, there's no use in counting them! They'recoming in a flood presently. I can't cheer up--I don't _want_ to cheer up.It's nicer to be miserable!"

  The flood of tears would have come, no doubt, had not Josie Pye appearedat that moment. In the joy of seeing a familiar face Anne forgot thatthere had never been much love lost between her and Josie. As a part ofAvonlea life even a Pye was welcome.

  "I'm so glad you came up," Anne said sincerely.

  "You've been crying," remarked Josie, with aggravating pity. "I supposeyou're homesick--some people have so little self-control in thatrespect. I've no intention of being homesick, I can tell you. Town's toojolly after that poky old Avonlea. I wonder how I ever existed there solong. You shouldn't cry, Anne; it isn't becoming, for your nose and eyesget red, and then you seem _all_ red. I'd a perfectly scrumptious time inthe Academy today. Our French professor is simply a duck. His moustachewould give you kerwollowps of the heart. Have you anything eatablearound, Anne? I'm literally starving. Ah, I guessed likely Marilla 'dload you up with cake. That's why I called round. Otherwise I'd havegone to the park to hear the band play with Frank Stockley. He boardssame place as I do, and he's a sport. He noticed you in class today, andasked me who the red-headed girl was. I told him you were an orphan thatthe Cuthberts had adopted, and nobody knew very much about what you'dbeen before that."

  Anne was wondering if, after all, solitude and tears were not moresatisfactory than Josie Pye's companionship when Jane and Ruby appeared,each with an inch of Queen's color ribbon--purple and scarlet--pinnedproudly to her coat. As Josie was not "speaking" to Jane just then shehad to subside into comparative harmlessness.

  "Well," said Jane with a sigh, "I feel as if I'd lived many moons sincethe morning. I ought to be home studying my Virgil--that horrid oldprofessor gave us twenty lines to start in on tomorrow. But I simplycouldn't settle down to study tonight. Anne, methinks I see thetraces of tears. If you've been crying _do_ own up. It will restore myself-respect, for I was shedding tears freely before Ruby came along. Idon't mind being a goose so much if somebody else is goosey, too. Cake?You'll give me a teeny piece, won't you? Thank you. It has the realAvonlea flavor."

  Ruby, perceiving the Queen's calendar lying on the table, wanted to knowif Anne meant to try for the gold medal.

  Anne blushed and admitted she was thinking of it.

  "Oh, that reminds me," said Josie, "Queen's is to get one of the Averyscholarships after all. The word came today. Frank Stockley told me--hisuncle is one of the board of governors, you know. It will be announcedin the Academy tomorrow."

  An Avery scholarship! Anne felt her heart beat more quickly, and thehorizons of her ambition shifted and broadened as if by magic. BeforeJosie had told the news Anne's highest pinnacle of aspiration had beena teacher's provincial license, First Class, at the end of the year, andperhaps the medal! But now in one moment Anne saw herself winningthe Avery scholarship, taking an Arts course at Redmond College, andgraduating in a gown and mortar board, before the echo of Josie's wordshad died away. For the Avery scholarship was in English, and Anne feltthat here her foot was on native heath.

  A wealthy manufacturer of New Brunswick had died and left part of hisfortune to endow a large number of scholarships to be distributedamong the various high schools and academies of the Maritime Provinces,according to their respective standings. There had been much doubtwhether one would be allotted to Queen's, but the matter was settled atlast, and at the end of the year the graduate who made the highest markin English and English Literature would win the scholarship--two hundredand fifty dollars a year for four years at Redmond College. No wonderthat Anne went to bed that night with tingling cheeks!

  "I'll win that scholarship if hard work can do it," she resolved."Wouldn't Matthew be proud if I got to be a B.A.? Oh, it's delightful tohave ambitions. I'm so glad I have such a lot. And there never seems tobe any end to them--that's the best of it. Just as soon as you attainto one ambition you see another one glittering higher up still. It doesmake life so interesting."