Anne's House of Dreams

by L. M. Montgomery

  CHAPTER 3

  THE LAND OF DREAMS AMONG

  "Have you made up your mind who you're going to have to the wedding,Anne?" asked Mrs. Rachel Lynde, as she hemstitched table napkinsindustriously. "It's time your invitations were sent, even if they areto be only informal ones."

  "I don't mean to have very many," said Anne. "We just want those welove best to see us married. Gilbert's people, and Mr. and Mrs. Allan,and Mr. and Mrs. Harrison."

  "There was a time when you'd hardly have numbered Mr. Harrison amongyour dearest friends," said Marilla drily.

  "Well, I wasn't VERY strongly attracted to him at our first meeting,"acknowledged Anne, with a laugh over the recollection. "But Mr.Harrison has improved on acquaintance, and Mrs. Harrison is really adear. Then, of course, there are Miss Lavendar and Paul."

  "Have they decided to come to the Island this summer? I thought theywere going to Europe."

  "They 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, nomatter what happens to Europe."

  "That child always idolised you," remarked Mrs. Rachel.

  "That 'child' is a young man of nineteen now, Mrs. Lynde."

  "How time does fly!" was Mrs. Lynde's brilliant and original response.

  "Charlotta the Fourth may come with them. She sent word by Paul thatshe would come if her husband would let her. I wonder if she stillwears those enormous blue bows, and whether her husband calls herCharlotta 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 EchoLodge next week. Then there are Phil and the Reverend Jo----"

  "It sounds awful to hear you speaking of a minister like that, Anne,"said Mrs. Rachel severely.

  "His wife calls him that."

  "She should have more respect for his holy office, then," retorted Mrs.Rachel.

  "I've heard you criticise ministers pretty sharply yourself," teasedAnne.

  "Yes, but I do it reverently," protested Mrs. Lynde. "You never heardme NICKNAME a minister."

  Anne smothered a smile.

  "Well, there are Diana and Fred and little Fred and Small AnneCordelia--and Jane Andrews. I wish I could have Miss Stacey and AuntJamesina and Priscilla and Stella. But Stella is in Vancouver, andPris is in Japan, and Miss Stacey is married in California, and AuntJamesina has gone to India to explore her daughter's mission field, inspite of her horror of snakes. It's really dreadful--the way peopleget scattered over the globe."

  "The Lord never intended it, that's what," said Mrs. Rachelauthoritatively. "In my young days people grew up and married andsettled down where they were born, or pretty near it. Thank goodnessyou've stuck to the Island, Anne. I was afraid Gilbert would insist onrushing off to the ends of the earth when he got through college, anddragging you with him."

  "If everybody stayed where he was born places would soon be filled up,Mrs. Lynde."

  "Oh, I'm not going to argue with you, Anne. _I_ am not a B.A. Whattime of the day is the ceremony to be?"

  "We have decided on noon--high noon, as the society reporters say.That will give us time to catch the evening train to Glen St. Mary."

  "And you'll be married in the parlor?"

  "No--not unless it rains. We mean to be married in the orchard--withthe blue sky over us and the sunshine around us. Do you know when andwhere I'd like to be married, if I could? It would be at dawn--a Junedawn, with a glorious sunrise, and roses blooming in the gardens; and Iwould slip down and meet Gilbert and we would go together to the heartof the beech woods,--and there, under the green arches that would belike a splendid cathedral, we would be married."

  Marilla sniffed scornfully and Mrs. Lynde looked shocked.

  "But that would be terrible queer, Anne. Why, it wouldn't really seemlegal. And what would Mrs. Harmon Andrews say?"

  "Ah, there's the rub," sighed Anne. "There are so many things in lifewe cannot do because of the fear of what Mrs. Harmon Andrews would say.''Tis true, 'tis pity, and pity 'tis, 'tis true.' What delightfulthings we might do were it not for Mrs. Harmon Andrews!"

  "By times, Anne, I don't feel quite sure that I understand youaltogether," complained Mrs. Lynde.

  "Anne was always romantic, you know," said Marilla apologetically.

  "Well, married life will most likely cure her of that," Mrs. Rachelresponded comfortingly.

  Anne laughed and slipped away to Lover's Lane, where Gilbert found her;and neither of them seemed to entertain much fear, or hope, that theirmarried life would cure them of romance.

  The Echo Lodge people came over the next week, and Green Gables buzzedwith the delight of them. Miss Lavendar had changed so little that thethree years since her last Island visit might have been a watch in thenight; but Anne gasped with amazement over Paul. Could this splendidsix feet of manhood be the little Paul of Avonlea schooldays?

  "You really make me feel old, Paul," said Anne. "Why, I have to lookup to you!"

  "You'll never grow old, Teacher," said Paul. "You are one of thefortunate mortals who have found and drunk from the Fountain ofYouth,--you and Mother Lavendar. See here! When you're married IWON'T call you Mrs. Blythe. To me you'll always be 'Teacher'--theteacher of the best lessons I ever learned. I want to show yousomething."

  The "something" was a pocketbook full of poems. Paul had put some ofhis beautiful fancies into verse, and magazine editors had not been asunappreciative as they are sometimes supposed to be. Anne read Paul'spoems with real delight. They were full of charm and promise.

  "You'll be famous yet, Paul. I always dreamed of having one famouspupil. He was to be a college president--but a great poet would beeven better. Some day I'll be able to boast that I whipped thedistinguished Paul Irving. But then I never did whip you, did I, Paul?What an opportunity lost! I think I kept you in at recess, however."

  "You may be famous yourself, Teacher. I've seen a good deal of yourwork these last three years."

  "No. I know what I can do. I can write pretty, fanciful littlesketches that children love and editors send welcome cheques for. ButI can do nothing big. My only chance for earthly immortality is acorner in your Memoirs."

  Charlotta the Fourth had discarded the blue bows but her freckles werenot noticeably less.

  "I never did think I'd come down to marrying a Yankee, Miss Shirley,ma'am," she said. "But you never know what's before you, and it isn'this fault. He was born that way."

  "You're a Yankee yourself, Charlotta, since you've married one."

  "Miss Shirley, ma'am, I'm NOT! And I wouldn't be if I was to marry adozen Yankees! Tom's kind of nice. And besides, I thought I'd betternot be too hard to please, for I mightn't get another chance. Tomdon't drink and he don't growl because he has to work between meals,and when all's said and done I'm satisfied, Miss Shirley, ma'am."

  "Does he call you Leonora?" asked Anne.

  "Goodness, no, Miss Shirley, ma'am. I wouldn't know who he meant if hedid. Of course, when we got married he had to say, 'I take thee,Leonora,' and I declare to you, Miss Shirley, ma'am, I've had the mostdreadful feeling ever since that it wasn't me he was talking to and Ihaven't been rightly married at all. And so you're going to be marriedyourself, Miss Shirley, ma'am? I always thought I'd like to marry adoctor. It would be so handy when the children had measles and croup.Tom is only a bricklayer, but he's real good-tempered. When I said tohim, says I, 'Tom, can I go to Miss Shirley's wedding? I mean to goanyhow, but I'd like to have your consent,' he just says, 'Suityourself, Charlotta, and you'll suit me.' That's a real pleasant kindof husband to have, Miss Shirley, ma'am."

  Philippa and her Reverend Jo arrived at Green Gables the day before thewedding. Anne and Phil had a rapturous meeting which presentlysimmered down to a cosy, confidential chat over all that had been andwas about to be.

  "Queen Anne, you're as queenly as ever. I've got fearfully thin sincethe babies came. I'm not half so good-looking; but I think Jo
likesit. There's not such a contrast between us, you see. And oh, it'sperfectly magnificent that you're going to marry Gilbert. Roy Gardnerwouldn't have done at all, at all. I can see that now, though I washorribly disappointed at the time. You know, Anne, you did treat Royvery badly."

  "He has recovered, I understand," smiled Anne.

  "Oh, yes. He is married and his wife is a sweet little thing andthey're perfectly happy. Everything works together for good. Jo andthe Bible say that, and they are pretty good authorities."

  "Are Alec and Alonzo married yet?"

  "Alec is, but Alonzo isn't. How those dear old days at Patty's Placecome back when I'm talking to you, Anne! What fun we had!"

  "Have you been to Patty's Place lately?"

  "Oh, yes, I go often. Miss Patty and Miss Maria still sit by thefireplace and knit. And that reminds me--we've brought you a weddinggift from them, Anne. Guess what it is."

  "I never could. How did they know I was going to be married?"

  "Oh, I told them. I was there last week. And they were so interested.Two days ago Miss Patty wrote me a note asking me to call; and then sheasked if I would take her gift to you. What would you wish most fromPatty's Place, Anne?"

  "You can't mean that Miss Patty has sent me her china dogs?"

  "Go up head. They're in my trunk this very moment. And I've a letterfor you. Wait a moment and I'll get it."

  "Dear Miss Shirley," Miss Patty had written, "Maria and I were verymuch interested in hearing of your approaching nuptials. We send youour best wishes. Maria and I have never married, but we have noobjection to other people doing so. We are sending you the china dogs.I intended to leave them to you in my will, because you seemed to havesincere affection for them. But Maria and I expect to live a goodwhile yet (D.V.), so I have decided to give you the dogs while you areyoung. You will not have forgotten that Gog looks to the right andMagog to the left."

  "Just fancy those lovely old dogs sitting by the fireplace in my houseof dreams," said Anne rapturously. "I never expected anything sodelightful."

  That evening Green Gables hummed with preparations for the followingday; but in the twilight Anne slipped away. She had a littlepilgrimage to make on this last day of her girlhood and she must makeit alone. She went to Matthew's grave, in the little poplar-shadedAvonlea graveyard, and there kept a silent tryst with old memories andimmortal loves.

  "How glad Matthew would be tomorrow if he were here," she whispered."But I believe he does know and is glad of it--somewhere else. I'veread somewhere that 'our dead are never dead until we have forgottenthem.' Matthew will never be dead to me, for I can never forget him."

  She left on his grave the flowers she had brought and walked slowlydown the long hill. It was a gracious evening, full of delectablelights and shadows. In the west was a sky of mackerel clouds--crimsonand amber-tinted, with long strips of apple-green sky between. Beyondwas the glimmering radiance of a sunset sea, and the ceaseless voice ofmany waters came up from the tawny shore. All around her, lying in thefine, beautiful country silence, were the hills and fields and woodsshe had known and loved so long.

  "History repeats itself," said Gilbert, joining her as she passed theBlythe gate. "Do you remember our first walk down this hill, Anne--ourfirst walk together anywhere, for that matter?"

  "I was coming home in the twilight from Matthew's grave--and you cameout of the gate; and I swallowed the pride of years and spoke to you."

  "And all heaven opened before me," supplemented Gilbert. "From thatmoment I looked forward to tomorrow. When I left you at your gate thatnight and walked home I was the happiest boy in the world. Anne hadforgiven me."

  "I think you had the most to forgive. I was an ungrateful littlewretch--and after you had really saved my life that day on the pond,too. How I loathed that load of obligation at first! I don't deservethe happiness that has come to me."

  Gilbert laughed and clasped tighter the girlish hand that wore hisring. Anne's engagement ring was a circlet of pearls. She had refusedto wear a diamond.

  "I've never really liked diamonds since I found out they weren't thelovely purple I had dreamed. They will always suggest my olddisappointment."

  "But pearls are for tears, the old legend says," Gilbert had objected.

  "I'm not afraid of that. And tears can be happy as well as sad. Myvery happiest moments have been when I had tears in my eyes--whenMarilla told me I might stay at Green Gables--when Matthew gave me thefirst pretty dress I ever had--when I heard that you were going torecover from the fever. So give me pearls for our troth ring, Gilbert,and I'll willingly accept the sorrow of life with its joy."

  But tonight our lovers thought only of joy and never of sorrow. Forthe morrow was their wedding day, and their house of dreams awaitedthem on the misty, purple shore of Four Winds Harbor.