CHAPTER XIII. The Delights of Anticipation
|IT'S time Anne was in to do her sewing," said Marilla, glancing at theclock and then out into the yellow August afternoon where everythingdrowsed in the heat. "She stayed playing with Diana more than half anhour more 'n I gave her leave to; and now she's perched out there onthe woodpile talking to Matthew, nineteen to the dozen, when she knowsperfectly well she ought to be at her work. And of course he's listeningto her like a perfect ninny. I never saw such an infatuated man.The more she talks and the odder the things she says, the more he'sdelighted evidently. Anne Shirley, you come right in here this minute,do you hear me!"
A series of staccato taps on the west window brought Anne flying in fromthe yard, eyes shining, cheeks faintly flushed with pink, unbraided hairstreaming behind her in a torrent of brightness.
"Oh, Marilla," she exclaimed breathlessly, "there's going to be aSunday-school picnic next week--in Mr. Harmon Andrews's field, rightnear the lake of Shining Waters. And Mrs. Superintendent Bell and Mrs.Rachel Lynde are going to make ice cream--think of it, Marilla--_icecream!_ And, oh, Marilla, can I go to it?"
"Just look at the clock, if you please, Anne. What time did I tell youto come in?"
"Two o'clock--but isn't it splendid about the picnic, Marilla? Pleasecan I go? Oh, I've never been to a picnic--I've dreamed of picnics, butI've never--"
"Yes, I told you to come at two o'clock. And it's a quarter to three.I'd like to know why you didn't obey me, Anne."
"Why, I meant to, Marilla, as much as could be. But you have no ideahow fascinating Idlewild is. And then, of course, I had to tell Matthewabout the picnic. Matthew is such a sympathetic listener. Please can Igo?"
"You'll have to learn to resist the fascination ofIdle-whatever-you-call-it. When I tell you to come in at a certain timeI mean that time and not half an hour later. And you needn't stop todiscourse with sympathetic listeners on your way, either. As for thepicnic, of course you can go. You're a Sunday-school scholar, and it'snot likely I'd refuse to let you go when all the other little girls aregoing."
"But--but," faltered Anne, "Diana says that everybody must take a basketof things to eat. I can't cook, as you know, Marilla, and--and--I don'tmind going to a picnic without puffed sleeves so much, but I'd feelterribly humiliated if I had to go without a basket. It's been preyingon my mind ever since Diana told me."
"Well, it needn't prey any longer. I'll bake you a basket."
"Oh, you dear good Marilla. Oh, you are so kind to me. Oh, I'm so muchobliged to you."
Getting through with her "ohs" Anne cast herself into Marilla's arms andrapturously kissed her sallow cheek. It was the first time in her wholelife that childish lips had voluntarily touched Marilla's face. Againthat sudden sensation of startling sweetness thrilled her. She wassecretly vastly pleased at Anne's impulsive caress, which was probablythe reason why she said brusquely:
"There, there, never mind your kissing nonsense. I'd sooner see youdoing strictly as you're told. As for cooking, I mean to begin givingyou lessons in that some of these days. But you're so featherbrained,Anne, I've been waiting to see if you'd sober down a little and learnto be steady before I begin. You've got to keep your wits about you incooking and not stop in the middle of things to let your thoughts roveall over creation. Now, get out your patchwork and have your square donebefore teatime."
"I do _not_ like patchwork," said Anne dolefully, hunting out herworkbasket and sitting down before a little heap of red and whitediamonds with a sigh. "I think some kinds of sewing would be nice; butthere's no scope for imagination in patchwork. It's just one little seamafter another and you never seem to be getting anywhere. But of courseI'd rather be Anne of Green Gables sewing patchwork than Anne of anyother place with nothing to do but play. I wish time went as quicksewing patches as it does when I'm playing with Diana, though. Oh, wedo have such elegant times, Marilla. I have to furnish most of theimagination, but I'm well able to do that. Diana is simply perfect inevery other way. You know that little piece of land across the brookthat runs up between our farm and Mr. Barry's. It belongs to Mr. WilliamBell, and right in the corner there is a little ring of white birchtrees--the most romantic spot, Marilla. Diana and I have our playhousethere. We call it Idlewild. Isn't that a poetical name? I assure you ittook me some time to think it out. I stayed awake nearly a whole nightbefore I invented it. Then, just as I was dropping off to sleep, it camelike an inspiration. Diana was _enraptured_ when she heard it. We have gotour house fixed up elegantly. You must come and see it, Marilla--won'tyou? We have great big stones, all covered with moss, for seats, andboards from tree to tree for shelves. And we have all our dishes onthem. Of course, they're all broken but it's the easiest thing in theworld to imagine that they are whole. There's a piece of a plate with aspray of red and yellow ivy on it that is especially beautiful. We keepit in the parlor and we have the fairy glass there, too. The fairy glassis as lovely as a dream. Diana found it out in the woods behind theirchicken house. It's all full of rainbows--just little young rainbowsthat haven't grown big yet--and Diana's mother told her it was brokenoff a hanging lamp they once had. But it's nice to imagine the fairieslost it one night when they had a ball, so we call it the fairy glass.Matthew is going to make us a table. Oh, we have named that little roundpool over in Mr. Barry's field Willowmere. I got that name out of thebook Diana lent me. That was a thrilling book, Marilla. The heroinehad five lovers. I'd be satisfied with one, wouldn't you? She was veryhandsome and she went through great tribulations. She could faint aseasy as anything. I'd love to be able to faint, wouldn't you, Marilla?It's so romantic. But I'm really very healthy for all I'm so thin. Ibelieve I'm getting fatter, though. Don't you think I am? I look at myelbows every morning when I get up to see if any dimples are coming.Diana is having a new dress made with elbow sleeves. She is going towear it to the picnic. Oh, I do hope it will be fine next Wednesday. Idon't feel that I could endure the disappointment if anything happenedto prevent me from getting to the picnic. I suppose I'd live through it,but I'm certain it would be a lifelong sorrow. It wouldn't matter ifI got to a hundred picnics in after years; they wouldn't make up formissing this one. They're going to have boats on the Lake of ShiningWaters--and ice cream, as I told you. I have never tasted ice cream.Diana tried to explain what it was like, but I guess ice cream is one ofthose things that are beyond imagination."
"Anne, you have talked even on for ten minutes by the clock," saidMarilla. "Now, just for curiosity's sake, see if you can hold yourtongue for the same length of time."
Anne held her tongue as desired. But for the rest of the week she talkedpicnic and thought picnic and dreamed picnic. On Saturday it rained andshe worked herself up into such a frantic state lest it should keepon raining until and over Wednesday that Marilla made her sew an extrapatchwork square by way of steadying her nerves.
On Sunday Anne confided to Marilla on the way home from church that shegrew actually cold all over with excitement when the minister announcedthe picnic from the pulpit.
"Such a thrill as went up and down my back, Marilla! I don't think I'dever really believed until then that there was honestly going to bea picnic. I couldn't help fearing I'd only imagined it. But when aminister says a thing in the pulpit you just have to believe it."
"You set your heart too much on things, Anne," said Marilla, with asigh. "I'm afraid there'll be a great many disappointments in store foryou through life."
"Oh, Marilla, looking forward to things is half the pleasure of them,"exclaimed Anne. "You mayn't get the things themselves; but nothing canprevent you from having the fun of looking forward to them. Mrs.Lynde says, 'Blessed are they who expect nothing for they shall not bedisappointed.' But I think it would be worse to expect nothing than tobe disappointed."
Marilla wore her amethyst brooch to church that day as usual. Marillaalways wore her amethyst brooch to church. She would have thought itrather sacrilegious to leave it off--as bad as forgetting her Bible orher collection dime. That amethyst brooc
h was Marilla's most treasuredpossession. A seafaring uncle had given it to her mother who in turnhad bequeathed it to Marilla. It was an old-fashioned oval, containinga braid of her mother's hair, surrounded by a border of very fineamethysts. Marilla knew too little about precious stones to realize howfine the amethysts actually were; but she thought them very beautifuland was always pleasantly conscious of their violet shimmer at herthroat, above her good brown satin dress, even although she could notsee it.
Anne had been smitten with delighted admiration when she first saw thatbrooch.
"Oh, Marilla, it's a perfectly elegant brooch. I don't know how youcan pay attention to the sermon or the prayers when you have it on. Icouldn't, I know. I think amethysts are just sweet. They are what I usedto think diamonds were like. Long ago, before I had ever seen a diamond,I read about them and I tried to imagine what they would be like. Ithought they would be lovely glimmering purple stones. When I saw areal diamond in a lady's ring one day I was so disappointed I cried. Ofcourse, it was very lovely but it wasn't my idea of a diamond. Will youlet me hold the brooch for one minute, Marilla? Do you think amethystscan be the souls of good violets?"
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