CHAPTER XXXI. Where the Brook and River Meet
|ANNE had her "good" summer and enjoyed it wholeheartedly. She and Dianafairly lived outdoors, reveling in all the delights that Lover's Laneand the Dryad's Bubble and Willowmere and Victoria Island afforded.Marilla offered no objections to Anne's gypsyings. The Spencervaledoctor who had come the night Minnie May had the croup met Anne at thehouse of a patient one afternoon early in vacation, looked her oversharply, screwed up his mouth, shook his head, and sent a message toMarilla Cuthbert by another person. It was:
"Keep that redheaded girl of yours in the open air all summer and don'tlet her read books until she gets more spring into her step."
This message frightened Marilla wholesomely. She read Anne's deathwarrant by consumption in it unless it was scrupulously obeyed. As aresult, Anne had the golden summer of her life as far as freedom andfrolic went. She walked, rowed, berried, and dreamed to her heart'scontent; and when September came she was bright-eyed and alert, with astep that would have satisfied the Spencervale doctor and a heart fullof ambition and zest once more.
"I feel just like studying with might and main," she declared as shebrought her books down from the attic. "Oh, you good old friends, I'mglad to see your honest faces once more--yes, even you, geometry. I'vehad a perfectly beautiful summer, Marilla, and now I'm rejoicing as astrong man to run a race, as Mr. Allan said last Sunday. Doesn't Mr.Allan preach magnificent sermons? Mrs. Lynde says he is improving everyday and the first thing we know some city church will gobble him upand then we'll be left and have to turn to and break in another greenpreacher. But I don't see the use of meeting trouble halfway, do you,Marilla? I think it would be better just to enjoy Mr. Allan while wehave him. If I were a man I think I'd be a minister. They can havesuch an influence for good, if their theology is sound; and it must bethrilling to preach splendid sermons and stir your hearers' hearts. Whycan't women be ministers, Marilla? I asked Mrs. Lynde that and she wasshocked and said it would be a scandalous thing. She said there mightbe female ministers in the States and she believed there was, but thankgoodness we hadn't got to that stage in Canada yet and she hoped wenever would. But I don't see why. I think women would make splendidministers. When there is a social to be got up or a church tea oranything else to raise money the women have to turn to and do the work.I'm sure Mrs. Lynde can pray every bit as well as Superintendent Belland I've no doubt she could preach too with a little practice."
"Yes, I believe she could," said Marilla dryly. "She does plenty ofunofficial preaching as it is. Nobody has much of a chance to go wrongin Avonlea with Rachel to oversee them."
"Marilla," said Anne in a burst of confidence, "I want to tell yousomething and ask you what you think about it. It has worried meterribly--on Sunday afternoons, that is, when I think specially aboutsuch matters. I do really want to be good; and when I'm with you or Mrs.Allan or Miss Stacy I want it more than ever and I want to do just whatwould please you and what you would approve of. But mostly when I'm withMrs. Lynde I feel desperately wicked and as if I wanted to go and do thevery thing she tells me I oughtn't to do. I feel irresistibly temptedto do it. Now, what do you think is the reason I feel like that? Do youthink it's because I'm really bad and unregenerate?"
Marilla looked dubious for a moment. Then she laughed.
"If you are I guess I am too, Anne, for Rachel often has that veryeffect on me. I sometimes think she'd have more of an influence forgood, as you say yourself, if she didn't keep nagging people to doright. There should have been a special commandment against nagging.But there, I shouldn't talk so. Rachel is a good Christian woman and shemeans well. There isn't a kinder soul in Avonlea and she never shirksher share of work."
"I'm very glad you feel the same," said Anne decidedly. "It's soencouraging. I shan't worry so much over that after this. But I dare saythere'll be other things to worry me. They keep coming up new all thetime--things to perplex you, you know. You settle one question andthere's another right after. There are so many things to be thought overand decided when you're beginning to grow up. It keeps me busy all thetime thinking them over and deciding what is right. It's a serious thingto grow up, isn't it, Marilla? But when I have such good friends asyou and Matthew and Mrs. Allan and Miss Stacy I ought to grow upsuccessfully, and I'm sure it will be my own fault if I don't. I feelit's a great responsibility because I have only the one chance. If Idon't grow up right I can't go back and begin over again. I've grown twoinches this summer, Marilla. Mr. Gillis measured me at Ruby's party. I'mso glad you made my new dresses longer. That dark-green one is so prettyand it was sweet of you to put on the flounce. Of course I know itwasn't really necessary, but flounces are so stylish this fall and JosiePye has flounces on all her dresses. I know I'll be able to study betterbecause of mine. I shall have such a comfortable feeling deep down in mymind about that flounce."
"It's worth something to have that," admitted Marilla.
Miss Stacy came back to Avonlea school and found all her pupils eagerfor work once more. Especially did the Queen's class gird up their loinsfor the fray, for at the end of the coming year, dimly shadowing theirpathway already, loomed up that fateful thing known as "the Entrance,"at the thought of which one and all felt their hearts sink into theirvery shoes. Suppose they did not pass! That thought was doomed tohaunt Anne through the waking hours of that winter, Sunday afternoonsinclusive, to the almost entire exclusion of moral and theologicalproblems. When Anne had bad dreams she found herself staring miserablyat pass lists of the Entrance exams, where Gilbert Blythe's name wasblazoned at the top and in which hers did not appear at all.
But it was a jolly, busy, happy swift-flying winter. Schoolwork wasas interesting, class rivalry as absorbing, as of yore. New worlds ofthought, feeling, and ambition, fresh, fascinating fields of unexploredknowledge seemed to be opening out before Anne's eager eyes.
"Hills peeped o'er hill and Alps on Alps arose."
Much of all this was due to Miss Stacy's tactful, careful, broadmindedguidance. She led her class to think and explore and discover forthemselves and encouraged straying from the old beaten paths to a degreethat quite shocked Mrs. Lynde and the school trustees, who viewed allinnovations on established methods rather dubiously.
Apart from her studies Anne expanded socially, for Marilla, mindful ofthe Spencervale doctor's dictum, no longer vetoed occasional outings.The Debating Club flourished and gave several concerts; there were oneor two parties almost verging on grown-up affairs; there were sleighdrives and skating frolics galore.
Between times Anne grew, shooting up so rapidly that Marilla wasastonished one day, when they were standing side by side, to find thegirl was taller than herself.
"Why, Anne, how you've grown!" she said, almost unbelievingly. A sighfollowed on the words. Marilla felt a queer regret over Anne's inches.The child she had learned to love had vanished somehow and here was thistall, serious-eyed girl of fifteen, with the thoughtful brows and theproudly poised little head, in her place. Marilla loved the girl as muchas she had loved the child, but she was conscious of a queer sorrowfulsense of loss. And that night, when Anne had gone to prayer meetingwith Diana, Marilla sat alone in the wintry twilight and indulged in theweakness of a cry. Matthew, coming in with a lantern, caught her at itand gazed at her in such consternation that Marilla had to laugh throughher tears.
"I was thinking about Anne," she explained. "She's got to be such a biggirl--and she'll probably be away from us next winter. I'll miss herterrible."
"She'll be able to come home often," comforted Matthew, to whom Anne wasas yet and always would be the little, eager girl he had brought homefrom Bright River on that June evening four years before. "The branchrailroad will be built to Carmody by that time."
"It won't be the same thing as having her here all the time," sighedMarilla gloomily, determined to enjoy her luxury of grief uncomforted."But there--men can't understand these things!"
There were other changes in Anne no less real than the physical change.For
one thing, she became much quieter. Perhaps she thought all themore and dreamed as much as ever, but she certainly talked less. Marillanoticed and commented on this also.
"You don't chatter half as much as you used to, Anne, nor use half asmany big words. What has come over you?"
Anne colored and laughed a little, as she dropped her book and lookeddreamily out of the window, where big fat red buds were bursting out onthe creeper in response to the lure of the spring sunshine.
"I don't know--I don't want to talk as much," she said, denting herchin thoughtfully with her forefinger. "It's nicer to think dear, prettythoughts and keep them in one's heart, like treasures. I don't like tohave them laughed at or wondered over. And somehow I don't want to usebig words any more. It's almost a pity, isn't it, now that I'm reallygrowing big enough to say them if I did want to. It's fun to be almostgrown up in some ways, but it's not the kind of fun I expected, Marilla.There's so much to learn and do and think that there isn't time for bigwords. Besides, Miss Stacy says the short ones are much stronger andbetter. She makes us write all our essays as simply as possible. It washard at first. I was so used to crowding in all the fine big words Icould think of--and I thought of any number of them. But I've got usedto it now and I see it's so much better."
"What has become of your story club? I haven't heard you speak of it fora long time."
"The story club isn't in existence any longer. We hadn't time forit--and anyhow I think we had got tired of it. It was silly to bewriting about love and murder and elopements and mysteries. Miss Stacysometimes has us write a story for training in composition, but shewon't let us write anything but what might happen in Avonlea in our ownlives, and she criticizes it very sharply and makes us criticize our owntoo. I never thought my compositions had so many faults until I began tolook for them myself. I felt so ashamed I wanted to give up altogether,but Miss Stacy said I could learn to write well if I only trained myselfto be my own severest critic. And so I am trying to."
"You've only two more months before the Entrance," said Marilla. "Do youthink you'll be able to get through?"
Anne shivered.
"I don't know. Sometimes I think I'll be all right--and then I gethorribly afraid. We've studied hard and Miss Stacy has drilled usthoroughly, but we mayn't get through for all that. We've each got astumbling block. Mine is geometry of course, and Jane's is Latin, andRuby and Charlie's is algebra, and Josie's is arithmetic. Moody Spurgeonsays he feels it in his bones that he is going to fail in Englishhistory. Miss Stacy is going to give us examinations in June just ashard as we'll have at the Entrance and mark us just as strictly, sowe'll have some idea. I wish it was all over, Marilla. It haunts me.Sometimes I wake up in the night and wonder what I'll do if I don'tpass."
"Why, go to school next year and try again," said Marilla unconcernedly.
"Oh, I don't believe I'd have the heart for it. It would be such adisgrace to fail, especially if Gil--if the others passed. And I get sonervous in an examination that I'm likely to make a mess of it. I wish Ihad nerves like Jane Andrews. Nothing rattles her."
Anne sighed and, dragging her eyes from the witcheries of the springworld, the beckoning day of breeze and blue, and the green thingsupspringing in the garden, buried herself resolutely in her book.There would be other springs, but if she did not succeed in passing theEntrance, Anne felt convinced that she would never recover sufficientlyto enjoy them.
Anne of Green Gables Page 31
