Chapter XV
A Dream Turned Upside Down
"Just one more week and we go back to Redmond," said Anne. She washappy at the thought of returning to work, classes and Redmond friends.Pleasing visions were also being woven around Patty's Place. There wasa warm pleasant sense of home in the thought of it, even though she hadnever lived there.
But the summer had been a very happy one, too--a time of glad livingwith summer suns and skies, a time of keen delight in wholesome things;a time of renewing and deepening of old friendships; a time in whichshe had learned to live more nobly, to work more patiently, to play moreheartily.
"All life lessons are not learned at college," she thought. "Lifeteaches them everywhere."
But alas, the final week of that pleasant vacation was spoiled for Anne,by one of those impish happenings which are like a dream turned upsidedown.
"Been writing any more stories lately?" inquired Mr. Harrison geniallyone evening when Anne was taking tea with him and Mrs. Harrison.
"No," answered Anne, rather crisply.
"Well, no offense meant. Mrs. Hiram Sloane told me the other day that abig envelope addressed to the Rollings Reliable Baking Powder Company ofMontreal had been dropped into the post office box a month ago, and shesuspicioned that somebody was trying for the prize they'd offered forthe best story that introduced the name of their baking powder. She saidit wasn't addressed in your writing, but I thought maybe it was you."
"Indeed, no! I saw the prize offer, but I'd never dream of competingfor it. I think it would be perfectly disgraceful to write a story toadvertise a baking powder. It would be almost as bad as Judson Parker'spatent medicine fence."
So spake Anne loftily, little dreaming of the valley of humiliationawaiting her. That very evening Diana popped into the porch gable,bright-eyed and rosy cheeked, carrying a letter.
"Oh, Anne, here's a letter for you. I was at the office, so I thoughtI'd bring it along. Do open it quick. If it is what I believe it is Ishall just be wild with delight." Anne, puzzled, opened the letter andglanced over the typewritten contents.
Miss Anne Shirley,
Green Gables,
Avonlea, P.E. Island.
"DEAR MADAM: We have much pleasure in informing you that your charmingstory 'Averil's Atonement' has won the prize of twenty-five dollarsoffered in our recent competition. We enclose the check herewith. We arearranging for the publication of the story in several prominent Canadiannewspapers, and we also intend to have it printed in pamphlet form fordistribution among our patrons. Thanking you for the interest you haveshown in our enterprise, we remain,
"Yours very truly,
"THE ROLLINGS RELIABLE
"BAKING POWDER Co."
"I don't understand," said Anne, blankly.
Diana clapped her hands.
"Oh, I KNEW it would win the prize--I was sure of it. _I_ sent yourstory into the competition, Anne."
"Diana--Barry!"
"Yes, I did," said Diana gleefully, perching herself on the bed. "WhenI saw the offer I thought of your story in a minute, and at firstI thought I'd ask you to send it in. But then I was afraid youwouldn't--you had so little faith left in it. So I just decided I'd sendthe copy you gave me, and say nothing about it. Then, if it didn't winthe prize, you'd never know and you wouldn't feel badly over it, becausethe stories that failed were not to be returned, and if it did you'dhave such a delightful surprise."
Diana was not the most discerning of mortals, but just at this moment itstruck her that Anne was not looking exactly overjoyed. The surprise wasthere, beyond doubt--but where was the delight?
"Why, Anne, you don't seem a bit pleased!" she exclaimed.
Anne instantly manufactured a smile and put it on.
"Of course I couldn't be anything but pleased over your unselfish wishto give me pleasure," she said slowly. "But you know--I'm so amazed--Ican't realize it--and I don't understand. There wasn't a word in mystory about--about--" Anne choked a little over the word--"bakingpowder."
"Oh, _I_ put that in," said Diana, reassured. "It was as easy aswink--and of course my experience in our old Story Club helped me. Youknow the scene where Averil makes the cake? Well, I just stated thatshe used the Rollings Reliable in it, and that was why it turned out sowell; and then, in the last paragraph, where PERCEVAL clasps AVERIL inhis arms and says, 'Sweetheart, the beautiful coming years will bring usthe fulfilment of our home of dreams,' I added, 'in which we will neveruse any baking powder except Rollings Reliable.'"
"Oh," gasped poor Anne, as if some one had dashed cold water on her.
"And you've won the twenty-five dollars," continued Diana jubilantly."Why, I heard Priscilla say once that the Canadian Woman only pays fivedollars for a story!"
Anne held out the hateful pink slip in shaking fingers.
"I can't take it--it's yours by right, Diana. You sent the story in andmade the alterations. I--I would certainly never have sent it. So youmust take the check."
"I'd like to see myself," said Diana scornfully. "Why, what I did wasn'tany trouble. The honor of being a friend of the prizewinner is enoughfor me. Well, I must go. I should have gone straight home from the postoffice for we have company. But I simply had to come and hear the news.I'm so glad for your sake, Anne."
Anne suddenly bent forward, put her arms about Diana, and kissed hercheek.
"I think you are the sweetest and truest friend in the world, Diana,"she said, with a little tremble in her voice, "and I assure you Iappreciate the motive of what you've done."
Diana, pleased and embarrassed, got herself away, and poor Anne,after flinging the innocent check into her bureau drawer as if itwere blood-money, cast herself on her bed and wept tears of shame andoutraged sensibility. Oh, she could never live this down--never!
Gilbert arrived at dusk, brimming over with congratulations, for he hadcalled at Orchard Slope and heard the news. But his congratulations diedon his lips at sight of Anne's face.
"Why, Anne, what is the matter? I expected to find you radiant overwinning Rollings Reliable prize. Good for you!"
"Oh, Gilbert, not you," implored Anne, in an ET-TU BRUTE tone. "Ithought YOU would understand. Can't you see how awful it is?"
"I must confess I can't. WHAT is wrong?"
"Everything," moaned Anne. "I feel as if I were disgraced forever. Whatdo you think a mother would feel like if she found her child tattooedover with a baking powder advertisement? I feel just the same. I lovedmy poor little story, and I wrote it out of the best that was in me.And it is SACRILEGE to have it degraded to the level of a baking powderadvertisement. Don't you remember what Professor Hamilton used to tellus in the literature class at Queen's? He said we were never to writea word for a low or unworthy motive, but always to cling to the veryhighest ideals. What will he think when he hears I've written a story toadvertise Rollings Reliable? And, oh, when it gets out at Redmond! Thinkhow I'll be teased and laughed at!"
"That you won't," said Gilbert, wondering uneasily if it were thatconfounded Junior's opinion in particular over which Anne was worried."The Reds will think just as I thought--that you, being like nine out often of us, not overburdened with worldly wealth, had taken this way ofearning an honest penny to help yourself through the year. I don't seethat there's anything low or unworthy about that, or anything ridiculouseither. One would rather write masterpieces of literature no doubt--butmeanwhile board and tuition fees have to be paid."
This commonsense, matter-of-fact view of the case cheered Anne a little.At least it removed her dread of being laughed at, though the deeperhurt of an outraged ideal remained.
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