English
Forreasonsbestknowntoherself,MarilladidnottellAnnethatshewastostayatGreenGablesuntilthenextafternoon.
Duringtheforenoonshekeptthechildbusywithvarioustasksandwatchedoverherwithakeeneyewhileshedidthem.
BynoonshehadconcludedthatAnnewassmartandobedient,willingtoworkandquicktolearn;hermostseriousshortcomingseemedtobeatendencytofallintodaydreamsinthemiddleofataskandforgetallaboutituntilsuchtimeasshewassharplyrecalledtoearthbyareprimandoracatastrophe.
WhenAnnehadfinishedwashingthedinnerdishesshesuddenlyconfrontedMarillawiththeairandexpressionofonedesperatelydeterminedtolearntheworst.
Herthinlittlebodytrembledfromheadtofoot;herfaceflushedandhereyesdilateduntiltheywerealmostblack;sheclaspedherhandstightlyandsaidinanimploringvoice:
“Oh,please,MissCuthbert,won’tyoutellmeifyouaregoingtosendmeawayornot?
I’vetriedtobepatientallthemorning,butIreallyfeelthatIcannotbearnotknowinganylonger.It’sadreadfulfeeling.Pleasetellme.”
“Youhaven’tscaldedthedishclothincleanhotwaterasItoldyoutodo,”saidMarillaimmovably.“Justgoanddoitbeforeyouaskanymorequestions,Anne.”
Annewentandattendedtothedishcloth.
ThenshereturnedtoMarillaandfastenedimploringeyesofthelatter’sface.
“Well,”saidMarilla,unabletofindanyexcusefordeferringherexplanationlonger,“IsupposeImightaswelltellyou.
MatthewandIhavedecidedtokeepyou—thatis,ifyouwilltrytobeagoodlittlegirlandshowyourselfgrateful.Why,child,whateveristhematter?”
“I’mcrying,”saidAnneinatoneofbewilderment.“Ican’tthinkwhy.I’mgladasgladcanbe.
Oh,GLADdoesn’tseemtherightwordatall.
IwasgladabouttheWhiteWayandthecherryblossoms—butthis!Oh,it’ssomethingmorethanglad.I’msohappy.I’lltrytobesogood.
Itwillbeuphillwork,Iexpect,forMrs.ThomasoftentoldmeIwasdesperatelywicked.However,I’lldomyverybest.ButcanyoutellmewhyI’mcrying?”
“Isupposeit’sbecauseyou’reallexcitedandworkedup,”saidMarilladisapprovingly.
“Sitdownonthatchairandtrytocalmyourself.
I’mafraidyoubothcryandlaughfartooeasily.
Yes,youcanstayhereandwewilltrytodorightbyyou.
Youmustgotoschool;butit’sonlyafortnighttillvacationsoitisn’tworthwhileforyoutostartbeforeitopensagaininSeptember.”
“WhatamItocallyou?”askedAnne.“ShallIalwayssayMissCuthbert?CanIcallyouAuntMarilla?”
“No;you’llcallmejustplainMarilla.I’mnotusedtobeingcalledMissCuthbertanditwouldmakemenervous.”
“ItsoundsawfullydisrespectfultojustsayMarilla,”protestedAnne.
“Iguessthere’llbenothingdisrespectfulinitifyou’recarefultospeakrespectfully.
Everybody,youngandold,inAvonleacallsmeMarillaexcepttheminister.
HesaysMissCuthbert—whenhethinksofit.”
“I’dlovetocallyouAuntMarilla,”saidAnnewistfully.
“I’veneverhadanauntoranyrelationatall—notevenagrandmother.
ItwouldmakemefeelasifIreallybelongedtoyou.Can’tIcallyouAuntMarilla?”
“No.I’mnotyourauntandIdon’tbelieveincallingpeoplenamesthatdon’tbelongtothem.”
“Butwecouldimagineyouweremyaunt.”
“Icouldn’t,”saidMarillagrimly.
“Doyouneverimaginethingsdifferentfromwhattheyreallyare?”askedAnnewide-eyed.
“No.”
“Oh!”Annedrewalongbreath.“Oh,Miss—Marilla,howmuchyoumiss!”
“Idon’tbelieveinimaginingthingsdifferentfromwhattheyreallyare,”retortedMarilla.
“WhentheLordputsusincertaincircumstancesHedoesn’tmeanforustoimaginethemaway.Andthatremindsme.
Gointothesittingroom,Anne—besureyourfeetarecleananddon’tletanyfliesin—andbringmeouttheillustratedcardthat’sonthemantelpiece.
TheLord’sPrayerisonitandyou’lldevoteyoursparetimethisafternoontolearningitoffbyheart.
There’stobenomoreofsuchprayingasIheardlastnight.”
“IsupposeIwasveryawkward,”saidAnneapologetically,“butthen,yousee,I’dneverhadanypractice.
Youcouldn’treallyexpectapersontoprayverywellthefirsttimeshetried,couldyou?
IthoughtoutasplendidprayerafterIwenttobed,justasIpromisedyouIwould.
Itwasnearlyaslongasaminister’sandsopoetical.Butwouldyoubelieveit?
Icouldn’trememberonewordwhenIwokeupthismorning.
AndI’mafraidI’llneverbeabletothinkoutanotheroneasgood.
Somehow,thingsneveraresogoodwhenthey’rethoughtoutasecondtime.Haveyouevernoticedthat?”
“Hereissomethingforyoutonotice,Anne.WhenItellyoutodoathingIwantyoutoobeymeatonceandnotstandstock-stillanddiscourseaboutit.JustyougoanddoasIbidyou.”
Annepromptlydepartedforthesitting-roomacrossthehall;shefailedtoreturn;afterwaitingtenminutesMarillalaiddownherknittingandmarchedafterherwithagrimexpression.
ShefoundAnnestandingmotionlessbeforeapicturehangingonthewallbetweenthetwowindows,withhereyesastarwithdreams.
Thewhiteandgreenlightstrainedthroughappletreesandclusteringvinesoutsidefellovertheraptlittlefigurewithahalf-unearthlyradiance.
“Anne,whateverareyouthinkingof?”demandedMarillasharply.
Annecamebacktoearthwithastart.
“That,”shesaid,pointingtothepicture—arathervividchromoentitled,“ChristBlessingLittleChildren”—”andIwasjustimaginingIwasoneofthem—thatIwasthelittlegirlinthebluedress,standingoffbyherselfinthecornerasifshedidn’tbelongtoanybody,likeme.
Shelookslonelyandsad,don’tyouthink?
Iguessshehadn’tanyfatherormotherofherown.
Butshewantedtobeblessed,too,soshejustcreptshylyupontheoutsideofthecrowd,hopingnobodywouldnoticeher—exceptHim.I’msureIknowjusthowshefelt.
Herheartmusthavebeatandherhandsmusthavegotcold,likeminedidwhenIaskedyouifIcouldstay.ShewasafraidHemightn’tnoticeher.
Butit’slikelyHedid,don’tyouthink?
I’vebeentryingtoimagineitallout—heredgingalittlenearerallthetimeuntilshewasquiteclosetoHim;andthenHewouldlookatherandputHishandonherhairandoh,suchathrillofjoyaswouldrunoverher!
ButIwishtheartisthadn’tpaintedHimsosorrowfullooking.
AllHispicturesarelikethat,ifyou’venoticed.
ButIdon’tbelieveHecouldreallyhavelookedsosadorthechildrenwouldhavebeenafraidofHim.”
“Anne,”saidMarilla,wonderingwhyshehadnotbrokenintothisspeechlongbefore,“youshouldn’ttalkthatway.It’sirreverent—positivelyirreverent.”
Anne’seyesmarveled.
“Why,Ifeltjustasreverentascouldbe.I’msureIdidn’tmeantobeirreverent.”
“WellIdon’tsupposeyoudid—butitdoesn’tsoundrighttotalksofamiliarlyaboutsuchthings.
Andanotherthing,Anne,whenIsendyouaftersomethingyou’retobringitatonceandnotfallintomooningandimaginingbeforepictures.Rememberthat.
Takethatcardandcomerighttothekitchen.
Now,sitdowninthecornerandlearnthatprayeroffbyheart.”
Annesetthecardupagainstthejugfulofappleblossomsshehadbroughtintodecoratethedinner-table—Marillahadeyedthatdecorationaskance,buthadsaidnothing—proppedherchinonherhands,andfelltostudyingitintentlyforseveralsilentminutes.
“Ilikethis,”sheannouncedatlength.“It’sbeautiful.
I’vehearditbefore—IheardthesuperintendentoftheasylumSundayschoolsayitoveronce.ButIdidn’tlikeitthen.
Hehadsuchacrackedvoiceandheprayeditsomournfully.
Ireallyfeltsurehethoughtprayingwasadisagreeableduty.
Thisisn’tpoetry,butitmakesmefeeljustthesamewaypoetrydoes.
‘OurFatherwhoartinheavenhallowedbeThyname.’Thatisjustlikealineofmusic.
Oh,I’msogladyouthoughtofmakingmelearnthis,Miss—Marilla.”
“Well,learnitandholdyourtongue,”saidMarillashortly.
Annetippedthevaseofappleblossomsnearenoughtobestowasoftkissonapink-cuppedbud,andthenstudieddiligentlyforsomemomentslonger.
“Marilla,”shedemandedpresently,“doyouthinkthatIshalleverhaveabosomfriendinAvonlea?”
“A—awhatkindoffriend?”
“Abosomfriend—anintimatefriend,youknow—areallykindredspirittowhomIcanconfidemyinmostsoul.
I’vedreamedofmeetingherallmylife.
IneverreallysupposedIwould,butsomanyofmyloveliestdreamshavecometrueallatoncethatperhapsthisonewill,too.Doyouthinkit’spossible?”
“DianaBarrylivesoveratOrchardSlopeandshe’saboutyourage.
She’saverynicelittlegirl,andperhapsshewillbeaplaymateforyouwhenshecomeshome.
She’svisitingherauntoveratCarmodyjustnow.
You’llhavetobecarefulhowyoubehaveyourself,though.Mrs.Barryisaveryparticularwoman.
Shewon’tletDianaplaywithanylittlegirlwhoisn’tniceandgood.”
AnnelookedatMarillathroughtheappleblossoms,hereyesaglowwithinterest.
“WhatisDianalike?Herhairisn’tred,isit?Oh,Ihopenot.It’sbadenoughtohaveredhairmyself,butIpositivelycouldn’tendureitinabosomfriend.”
“Dianaisaveryprettylittlegirl.Shehasblackeyesandhairandrosycheeks.Andsheisgoodandsmart,whichisbetterthanbeingpretty.”
MarillawasasfondofmoralsastheDuchessinWonderland,andwasfirmlyconvincedthatoneshouldbetackedontoeveryremarkmadetoachildwhowasbeingbroughtup.
ButAnnewavedthemoralinconsequentlyasideandseizedonlyonthedelightfulpossibilitiesbeforeit.
“Oh,I’msogladshe’spretty.Nexttobeingbeautifuloneself—andthat’simpossibleinmycase—itwouldbebesttohaveabeautifulbosomfriend.
WhenIlivedwithMrs.Thomasshehadabookcaseinhersittingroomwithglassdoors.
Thereweren’tanybooksinit;Mrs.Thomaskeptherbestchinaandherpreservesthere—whenshehadanypreservestokeep.Oneofthedoorswasbroken.
Mr.Thomassmasheditonenightwhenhewasslightlyintoxicated.
ButtheotherwaswholeandIusedtopretendthatmyreflectioninitwasanotherlittlegirlwholivedinit.
IcalledherKatieMaurice,andwewereveryintimate.
Iusedtotalktoherbythehour,especiallyonSunday,andtellhereverything.
Katiewasthecomfortandconsolationofmylife.
WeusedtopretendthatthebookcasewasenchantedandthatifIonlyknewthespellIcouldopenthedoorandsteprightintotheroomwhereKatieMauricelived,insteadofintoMrs.Thomas’shelvesofpreservesandchina.
AndthenKatieMauricewouldhavetakenmebythehandandledmeoutintoawonderfulplace,allflowersandsunshineandfairies,andwewouldhavelivedtherehappyforeverafter.
WhenIwenttolivewithMrs.HammonditjustbrokemyhearttoleaveKatieMaurice.
Shefeltitdreadfully,too,Iknowshedid,forshewascryingwhenshekissedmegood-byethroughthebookcasedoor.
TherewasnobookcaseatMrs.Hammond’s.
Butjustuptheriveralittlewayfromthehousetherewasalonggreenlittlevalley,andtheloveliestecholivedthere.
Itechoedbackeverywordyousaid,evenifyoudidn’ttalkabitloud.
SoIimaginedthatitwasalittlegirlcalledViolettaandweweregreatfriendsandIlovedheralmostaswellasIlovedKatieMaurice—notquite,butalmost,youknow.
ThenightbeforeIwenttotheasylumIsaidgood-byetoVioletta,andoh,hergood-byecamebacktomeinsuchsad,sadtones.
IhadbecomesoattachedtoherthatIhadn’tthehearttoimagineabosomfriendattheasylum,eveniftherehadbeenanyscopeforimaginationthere.”
“Ithinkit’sjustaswelltherewasn’t,”saidMarilladrily.“Idon’tapproveofsuchgoings-on.
Youseemtohalfbelieveyourownimaginations.
Itwillbewellforyoutohaveareallivefriendtoputsuchnonsenseoutofyourhead.
Butdon’tletMrs.BarryhearyoutalkingaboutyourKatieMauricesandyourViolettasorshe’llthinkyoutellstories.”
“Oh,Iwon’t.Icouldn’ttalkofthemtoeverybody—theirmemoriesaretoosacredforthat.
ButIthoughtI’dliketohaveyouknowaboutthem.
Oh,look,here’sabigbeejusttumbledoutofanappleblossom.
Justthinkwhatalovelyplacetolive—inanappleblossom!
Fancygoingtosleepinitwhenthewindwasrockingit.
IfIwasn’tahumangirlIthinkI’dliketobeabeeandliveamongtheflowers.”
“Yesterdayyouwantedtobeaseagull,”sniffedMarilla.“Ithinkyouareveryfickleminded.
Itoldyoutolearnthatprayerandnottalk.
Butitseemsimpossibleforyoutostoptalkingifyou’vegotanybodythatwilllistentoyou.Sogouptoyourroomandlearnit.”
“Oh,Iknowitprettynearlyallnow—allbutjustthelastline.”
“Well,nevermind,doasItellyou.Gotoyourroomandfinishlearningitwell,andstaythereuntilIcallyoudowntohelpmegettea.”
“CanItaketheappleblossomswithmeforcompany?”pleadedAnne.
“No;youdon’twantyourroomclutteredupwithflowers.Youshouldhaveleftthemonthetreeinthefirstplace.”
“Ididfeelalittlethatway,too,”saidAnne.
“IkindoffeltIshouldn’tshortentheirlovelylivesbypickingthem—Iwouldn’twanttobepickedifIwereanappleblossom.ButthetemptationwasIRRESISTIBLE.
Whatdoyoudowhenyoumeetwithanirresistibletemptation?”
“Anne,didyouhearmetellyoutogotoyourroom?”
Annesighed,retreatedtotheeastgable,andsatdowninachairbythewindow.
“There—Iknowthisprayer.Ilearnedthatlastsentencecomingupstairs.
NowI’mgoingtoimaginethingsintothisroomsothatthey’llalwaysstayimagined.
Theflooriscoveredwithawhitevelvetcarpetwithpinkrosesalloveritandtherearepinksilkcurtainsatthewindows.
Thewallsarehungwithgoldandsilverbrocadetapestry.Thefurnitureismahogany.
Ineversawanymahogany,butitdoessoundSOluxurious.
Thisisacouchallheapedwithgorgeoussilkencushions,pinkandblueandcrimsonandgold,andIamreclininggracefullyonit.
Icanseemyreflectioninthatsplendidbigmirrorhangingonthewall.
Iamtallandregal,cladinagownoftrailingwhitelace,withapearlcrossonmybreastandpearlsinmyhair.
Myhairisofmidnightdarknessandmyskinisaclearivorypallor.
MynameistheLadyCordeliaFitzgerald.
No,itisn’t—Ican’tmakeTHATseemreal.”
Shedanceduptothelittlelooking-glassandpeeredintoit.Herpointedfreckledfaceandsolemngrayeyespeeredbackather.
“You’reonlyAnneofGreenGables,”shesaidearnestly,“andIseeyou,justasyouarelookingnow,wheneverItrytoimagineI’mtheLadyCordelia.
Butit’samilliontimesnicertobeAnneofGreenGablesthanAnneofnowhereinparticular,isn’tit?”
Shebentforward,kissedherreflectionaffectionately,andbetookherselftotheopenwindow.
“DearSnowQueen,goodafternoon.Andgoodafternoondearbirchesdowninthehollow.
Andgoodafternoon,deargrayhouseuponthehill.
IwonderifDianaistobemybosomfriend.
Ihopeshewill,andIshallloveherverymuch.
ButImustneverquiteforgetKatieMauriceandVioletta.
TheywouldfeelsohurtifIdidandI’dhatetohurtanybody’sfeelings,evenalittlebookcasegirl’soralittleechogirl’s.
Imustbecarefultorememberthemandsendthemakisseveryday.”
Anneblewacoupleofairykissesfromherfingertipspastthecherryblossomsandthen,withherchininherhands,driftedluxuriouslyoutonaseaofdaydreams.
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