Anne of the Island
Page 25
Chapter XXV
Enter Prince Charming
"I'm contrasting the claims of indoors and out," said Anne, looking fromthe window of Patty's Place to the distant pines of the park.
"I've an afternoon to spend in sweet doing nothing, Aunt Jimsie. ShallI spend it here where there is a cosy fire, a plateful of deliciousrussets, three purring and harmonious cats, and two impeccable chinadogs with green noses? Or shall I go to the park, where there is thelure of gray woods and of gray water lapping on the harbor rocks?"
"If I was as young as you, I'd decide in favor of the park," said AuntJamesina, tickling Joseph's yellow ear with a knitting needle.
"I thought that you claimed to be as young as any of us, Aunty," teasedAnne.
"Yes, in my soul. But I'll admit my legs aren't as young as yours. Yougo and get some fresh air, Anne. You look pale lately."
"I think I'll go to the park," said Anne restlessly. "I don't feel liketame domestic joys today. I want to feel alone and free and wild. Thepark will be empty, for every one will be at the football match."
"Why didn't you go to it?"
"'Nobody axed me, sir, she said'--at least, nobody but that horridlittle Dan Ranger. I wouldn't go anywhere with him; but rather than hurthis poor little tender feelings I said I wasn't going to the game atall. I don't mind. I'm not in the mood for football today somehow."
"You go and get some fresh air," repeated Aunt Jamesina, "but take yourumbrella, for I believe it's going to rain. I've rheumatism in my leg."
"Only old people should have rheumatism, Aunty."
"Anybody is liable to rheumatism in her legs, Anne. It's only old peoplewho should have rheumatism in their souls, though. Thank goodness, Inever have. When you get rheumatism in your soul you might as well goand pick out your coffin."
It was November--the month of crimson sunsets, parting birds, deep,sad hymns of the sea, passionate wind-songs in the pines. Anne roamedthrough the pineland alleys in the park and, as she said, let that greatsweeping wind blow the fogs out of her soul. Anne was not wont to betroubled with soul fog. But, somehow, since her return to Redmond forthis third year, life had not mirrored her spirit back to her with itsold, perfect, sparkling clearness.
Outwardly, existence at Patty's Place was the same pleasant roundof work and study and recreation that it had always been. On Fridayevenings the big, fire-lighted livingroom was crowded by callersand echoed to endless jest and laughter, while Aunt Jamesina smiledbeamingly on them all. The "Jonas" of Phil's letter came often, runningup from St. Columbia on the early train and departing on the late. Hewas a general favorite at Patty's Place, though Aunt Jamesina shook herhead and opined that divinity students were not what they used to be.
"He's VERY nice, my dear," she told Phil, "but ministers ought to begraver and more dignified."
"Can't a man laugh and laugh and be a Christian still?" demanded Phil.
"Oh, MEN--yes. But I was speaking of MINISTERS, my dear," said AuntJamesina rebukingly. "And you shouldn't flirt so with Mr. Blake--youreally shouldn't."
"I'm not flirting with him," protested Phil.
Nobody believed her, except Anne. The others thought she was amusingherself as usual, and told her roundly that she was behaving very badly.
"Mr. Blake isn't of the Alec-and-Alonzo type, Phil," said Stellaseverely. "He takes things seriously. You may break his heart."
"Do you really think I could?" asked Phil. "I'd love to think so."
"Philippa Gordon! I never thought you were utterly unfeeling. The ideaof you saying you'd love to break a man's heart!"
"I didn't say so, honey. Quote me correctly. I said I'd like to think ICOULD break it. I would like to know I had the POWER to do it."
"I don't understand you, Phil. You are leading that man ondeliberately--and you know you don't mean anything by it."
"I mean to make him ask me to marry him if I can," said Phil calmly.
"I give you up," said Stella hopelessly.
Gilbert came occasionally on Friday evenings. He seemed always in goodspirits, and held his own in the jests and repartee that flew about.He neither sought nor avoided Anne. When circumstances brought themin contact he talked to her pleasantly and courteously, as to anynewly-made acquaintance. The old camaraderie was gone entirely. Annefelt it keenly; but she told herself she was very glad and thankful thatGilbert had got so completely over his disappointment in regard to her.She had really been afraid, that April evening in the orchard, that shehad hurt him terribly and that the wound would be long in healing. Nowshe saw that she need not have worried. Men have died and the wormshave eaten them but not for love. Gilbert evidently was in no danger ofimmediate dissolution. He was enjoying life, and he was full of ambitionand zest. For him there was to be no wasting in despair because a womanwas fair and cold. Anne, as she listened to the ceaseless badinage thatwent on between him and Phil, wondered if she had only imagined thatlook in his eyes when she had told him she could never care for him.
There were not lacking those who would gladly have stepped intoGilbert's vacant place. But Anne snubbed them without fear and withoutreproach. If the real Prince Charming was never to come she would havenone of a substitute. So she sternly told herself that gray day in thewindy park.
Suddenly the rain of Aunt Jamesina's prophecy came with a swish andrush. Anne put up her umbrella and hurried down the slope. As she turnedout on the harbor road a savage gust of wind tore along it. Instantlyher umbrella turned wrong side out. Anne clutched at it in despair. Andthen--there came a voice close to her.
"Pardon me--may I offer you the shelter of my umbrella?"
Anne looked up. Tall and handsome and distinguished-looking--dark,melancholy, inscrutable eyes--melting, musical, sympathetic voice--yes,the very hero of her dreams stood before her in the flesh. He could nothave more closely resembled her ideal if he had been made to order.
"Thank you," she said confusedly.
"We'd better hurry over to that little pavillion on the point,"suggested the unknown. "We can wait there until this shower is over. Itis not likely to rain so heavily very long."
The words were very commonplace, but oh, the tone! And the smile whichaccompanied them! Anne felt her heart beating strangely.
Together they scurried to the pavilion and sat breathlessly down underits friendly roof. Anne laughingly held up her false umbrella.
"It is when my umbrella turns inside out that I am convinced of thetotal depravity of inanimate things," she said gaily.
The raindrops sparkled on her shining hair; its loosened rings curledaround her neck and forehead. Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes big andstarry. Her companion looked down at her admiringly. She felt herselfblushing under his gaze. Who could he be? Why, there was a bit of theRedmond white and scarlet pinned to his coat lapel. Yet she had thoughtshe knew, by sight at least, all the Redmond students except theFreshmen. And this courtly youth surely was no Freshman.
"We are schoolmates, I see," he said, smiling at Anne's colors. "Thatought to be sufficient introduction. My name is Royal Gardner. And youare the Miss Shirley who read the Tennyson paper at the Philomathic theother evening, aren't you?"
"Yes; but I cannot place you at all," said Anne, frankly. "Please, whereDO you belong?"
"I feel as if I didn't belong anywhere yet. I put in my Freshman andSophomore years at Redmond two years ago. I've been in Europe eversince. Now I've come back to finish my Arts course."
"This is my Junior year, too," said Anne.
"So we are classmates as well as collegemates. I am reconciled to theloss of the years that the locust has eaten," said her companion, with aworld of meaning in those wonderful eyes of his.
The rain came steadily down for the best part of an hour. But the timeseemed really very short. When the clouds parted and a burst of paleNovember sunshine fell athwart the harbor and the pines Anne and hercompanion walked home together. By the time they had reached the gate ofPatty's Place he had asked permission to call, and had received it. Anne
went in with cheeks of flame and her heart beating to her fingertips.Rusty, who climbed into her lap and tried to kiss her, found a veryabsent welcome. Anne, with her soul full of romantic thrills, had noattention to spare just then for a crop-eared pussy cat.
That evening a parcel was left at Patty's Place for Miss Shirley. It wasa box containing a dozen magnificent roses. Phil pounced impertinentlyon the card that fell from it, read the name and the poetical quotationwritten on the back.
"Royal Gardner!" she exclaimed. "Why, Anne, I didn't know you wereacquainted with Roy Gardner!"
"I met him in the park this afternoon in the rain," explained Annehurriedly. "My umbrella turned inside out and he came to my rescue withhis."
"Oh!" Phil peered curiously at Anne. "And is that exceedinglycommonplace incident any reason why he should send us longstemmed rosesby the dozen, with a very sentimental rhyme? Or why we should blushdivinest rosy-red when we look at his card? Anne, thy face betrayeththee."
"Don't talk nonsense, Phil. Do you know Mr. Gardner?"
"I've met his two sisters, and I know of him. So does everybodyworthwhile in Kingsport. The Gardners are among the richest, bluest,of Bluenoses. Roy is adorably handsome and clever. Two years ago hismother's health failed and he had to leave college and go abroad withher--his father is dead. He must have been greatly disappointed to haveto give up his class, but they say he was perfectly sweet about it.Fee--fi--fo--fum, Anne. I smell romance. Almost do I envy you, but notquite. After all, Roy Gardner isn't Jonas."
"You goose!" said Anne loftily. But she lay long awake that night, nordid she wish for sleep. Her waking fancies were more alluring than anyvision of dreamland. Had the real Prince come at last? Recalling thoseglorious dark eyes which had gazed so deeply into her own, Anne was verystrongly inclined to think he had.