The Complete Novels of Lucy Maud Montgomery - 20 Titles in One Volume: Including Anne of Green Gables Series, Emily Starr Trilogy, The Blue Castle, The Story Girl & Pat of Silver Bush Series. Lucy Maud Montgomery
sigh of the wind around the eaves as well. Elizabeth had always been “afraid of the night.” Who knew what queer thing might jump at you out of it? But now she was afraid no longer. For the first time in her life the night seemed like a friend to her.
They would go to the shore tomorrow, Miss Shirley had promised, and have a dip in those silver-tipped waves they had seen breaking beyond the green dunes of Avonlea when they drove over the last hill. Elizabeth could see them coming in, one after the other. One of them was a great dark wave of sleep … it rolled right over her … Elizabeth drowned in it with a delicious sigh of surrender.
“It’s … so … easy … to … love … God … here,” was her last conscious thought.
But she lay awake for a while every night of her stay at Green Gables, long after Miss Shirley had gone to sleep, thinking over things. Why couldn’t life at The Evergreens be like life at Green Gables?
Elizabeth had never lived where she could make a noise if she wanted to. Everybody at The Evergreens had to move softly … speak softly … even, so Elizabeth felt, think softly. There were times when Elizabeth desired perversely to yell loud and long.
“You may make all the noise you want to here,” Anne had told her. But it was strange … she no longer wanted to yell, now that there was nothing to prevent her. She liked to go quietly, stepping gently among all the lovely things around her. But Elizabeth learned to laugh during that sojourn at Green Gables. And when she went back to Summerside she carried delightful memories with her and left equally delightful ones behind her. To the Green Gables folks Green Gables seemed for months full of memories of little Elizabeth. For “little Elizabeth” she was to them in spite of the fact that Anne had solemnly introduced her as “Miss Elizabeth.” She was so tiny, so golden, so elf-like, that they couldn’t think of her as anything but little Elizabeth … little Elizabeth dancing in a twilight garden among the white June lilies … coiled up on a bough of the big Duchess apple tree reading fairy tales, unlet and unhindered … little Elizabeth half drowned in a field of buttercups where her golden head seemed just a larger buttercup … chasing silver-green moths or trying to count the fireflies in Lover’s Lane … listening to the bumblebees zooming in the canterbury-bells … being fed strawberries and cream by Dora in the pantry or eating red currants with her in the yard … “Red currants are such beautiful things, aren’t they, Dora? It’s just like eating jewels, isn’t it?” … little Elizabeth singing to herself in the haunted dusk of the firs … with fingers sweet from gathering the big, fat, pink “cabbage roses” … gazing at the great moon hanging over the brook valley … “I think the moon has worried eyes, don’t you, Mrs. Lynde?” … crying bitterly because a chapter in the serial story in Davy’s magazine left the hero in a sad predicament … “Oh, Miss Shirley, I’m sure he can never live through it!” … little Elizabeth curled up, all flushed and sweet like a wild rose, for an afternoon nap on the kitchen sofa with Dora’s kittens cuddled about her … shrieking with laughter to see the wind blowing the dignified old hens’ tails over their backs … could it be little Elizabeth laughing like that? … helping Anne frost cupcakes, Mrs. Lynde cut the patches for a new “double Irish chain” quilt, and Dora rub the old brass candlesticks till they could see their faces in them … cutting out tiny biscuits with a thimble under Marilla’s tutelage. Why, the Green Gables folks could hardly look at a place or thing without being reminded of little Elizabeth.
“I wonder if I’ll ever have such a happy fortnight again,” thought little Elizabeth, as she drove away from Green Gables. The road to the station was just as beautiful as it had been two weeks before, but half the time little Elizabeth couldn’t see it for tears.
“I couldn’t have believed I’d miss a child so much,” said Mrs. Lynde.
When little Elizabeth went, Katherine Brooke and her dog came for the rest of the summer. Katherine had resigned from the staff of the High School at the close of the year and meant to go to Redmond in the fall to take a secretarial course at Redmond University. Anne had advised this.
“I know you’d like it and you’ve never liked teaching,” said the latter, as they sat one evening in a ferny corner of a clover field and watched the glories of a sunset sky.
“Life owes me something more than it has paid me and I’m going out to collect it,” said Katherine decidedly. “I feel so much younger than I did this time last year,” she added with a laugh.
“I’m sure it’s the best thing for you to do, but I hate to think of Summerside and the High without you. What will the tower room be like next year without our evenings of confab and argument, and our hours of foolishness, when we turned everybody and everything into a joke?”
The Third Year
Chapter I
“Windy Poplars,
“Spook’s Lane,
“September 8th.
“Dearest:
“The summer is over … the summer in which I have seen you only that weekend in May. And I am back at Windy Poplars for my third and last year in Summerside High. Katherine and I had a delightful time together at Green Gables and I’m going to miss her dreadfully this year. The new Junior teacher is a jolly little personage, chubby and rosy and friendly as a puppy … but somehow, there’s nothing more to her than that. She has sparkling shallow blue eyes with no thought behind them. I like her … I’ll always like her … neither more nor less … there’s nothing to discover in her. There was so much to discover in Katherine, when you once got past her guard.
“There is no change at Windy Poplars … yes there is. The old red cow has gone to her long home, so Rebecca Dew sadly informed me when I came down to supper Monday night. The widows have decided not to bother with another one but to get milk and cream from Mr. Cherry. This means that little Elizabeth will come no more to the garden gate for her new milk. But Mrs. Campbell seems to have grown reconciled to her coming over here when she wants to, so that does not make so much difference now.
“And another change is brewing. Aunt Kate told me, much to my sorrow, that they have decided to give Dusty Miller away as soon as they can find a suitable home for him. When I protested, she said they were really driven to it for peace’ sake. Rebecca Dew has been constantly complaining about him all summer and there seems to be no other way of satisfying her. Poor Dusty Miller … and he is such a nice, prowly, purry darling!
“Tomorrow, being Saturday, I’m going to look after Mrs. Raymond’s twins while she goes to Charlottetown to the funeral of some relative. Mrs. Raymond is a widow who came to our town last winter. Rebecca Dew and the Windy Poplars widows … really, Summerside is a great place for widows … think her a ‘little too grand’ for Summerside, but she was really a wonderful help to Katherine and me in our Dramatic Club activities. One good turn deserves another.
“Gerald and Geraldine are eight and are a pair of angelic-looking youngsters, but Rebecca Dew ‘pulled a mouth,’ to use one of her own expressions, when I told her what I was going to do.
“‘But I love children, Rebecca.’
“‘Children, yes, but them’s holy terrors, Miss Shirley. Mrs. Raymond doesn’t believe in punishing children no matter what they do. She says she’s determined they’ll have a “natural” life. They take people in by that saintly look of theirs, but I’ve heard what her neighbors have to say of them. The minister’s wife called one afternoon … well, Mrs. Raymond was sweet as sugar pie to her, but when she was leaving a shower of Spanish onions came flying down the stairs and one of them knocked her hat off. “Children always behave so abominably