Chapter Text
Mr. Philips pursed his thin lips as his pupils began trooping in, mumbling and giggling with their friends. When Prissy Andrews entered, his expression smoothed a little before he caught himself. He had two new students entering that day- the Cuthberts' orphan, and one Gilbert Blythe, who was finally well enough to return to school with his parents’ blessings. A young girl with shockingly red hair fairly skipped through his door and he nearly grimaced, his class quieting as they absorbed the unfamiliar face.
The girl in question was quite oblivious, excited as she was about actually going to school. She was determined not to get into any scrapes and she thrilled when she saw that the seat next to Diana Barry was empty, her new friend giving her a pretty little smile. With explicit instructions to introduce herself to the school teacher and ‘make sure to behave’, Anne was quite certain she was going to love school.
When the last of the students wandered in, fourteen-year-old Gilbert Blythe hung back and warily surveyed the class. His old seat mate and one of his closest friends, Moody Spurgeon, was now sitting with Charlie Sloan and offered him a sympathetic, if awkward glance.
Mr. Philips figured he ought to get the interest in the presence of the orphan and young Mr. Blythe out of the way. “Class, we welcome Gilbert Blythe back from his absence, and we have a new student,” he gestured a little apathetically towards the red headed little girl, who stepped towards his desk energetically.
“Good morning, Mr. Philips, I’m Anne Shirley. Anne, spelled with an E,” she emphasized. “I am entirely optimistic that I will become an asset to your class, and I have been left with strict instructions not to-”
“Yes,” Mr. Philips drawled, giving a little smirk when Anne flushed and bit her tongue. “Well, you may sit at the empty table, just there, with Gilbert Blythe for now,” he gestured. “The both of you will have some catching up to do and I don’t want your slow progress disrupting the others.”
Anne looked forlornly towards the empty seat beside a disappointed Diana, moving to occupy the empty table in the back corner of the class. Ah, well. It was nearer a window than the seat with Diana.
Gilbert Blythe took the seat next to Anne Shirley quietly, embarrassed by Mr. Philips snide comment about slow progress.
The class was instructed to take out their readers, each sections of students directed to different passages depending on their age (or, in Anne and Gilbert’s sakes, the passages were given according to where Mr. Philip’s assumed they were in progress).
Anne sighed at the assignment given to them and Gilbert looked to her curiously. “Fourth reader,” she muttered, gesturing to their assignment. “Diana said the others were all in the fifth already. I know how to read quite well and I’m a fast and willing learner, I never make the same mistake twice.”
Gilbert Blythe offered her a wry little smile. “Well, we’ll just have to prove ourselves capable, is all,” he told her, picking up his slate and pencil. “I’m Gilbert,” he said, setting the utensils to the side of the assignment before holding out his hand.
She looked at him, surprised, before tentatively shaking it. “I suppose you have the right idea,” she mused, “I’m Anne Shirley. Anne, spelled with an E.”
“So I heard,” Gilbert grinned, a dimple in his cheek appearing before he turned to get to work.
Anne gave a forlorn look to the window before she set about doing her own work as well. The two were done awfully quickly, to Mr. Philips skepticism.
“You were to do these alone,” he said, pursing his lips as he looked their slates over. “Miss Shirley, your spelling is absolutely disgraceful. And, Mr. Blythe, you’ve not attended school in some time?” Anne flushed beet-red, Gilbert tactfully not glancing at her slate when Mr. Philips pointed at it emphatically.
“My parents made sure I kept up.” Gilbert said.
“And you,” he directed his watery blue eyes to Anne, “have never been to school?”
“Not with any regularity, Mr. Philips,” Anne replied, “but I do know how to read ever so many books. My mathematics may not be to your high standards, I’m sure, but I did have to tutor other children and aid with their learning, so I’m not as far behind as I ought to be.”
“Well.” He looked between the two of them shrewdly. “You have your mathematics texts, yes?”
Anne ducked to find it in her satchel and Gilbert found his at the top of his pile of books. “You may complete the assignment on page 37. Perhaps I will have to discover where your learning levels lie.” He turned to go back to Prissy Andrews, his Queens student, and left the two to their devices without a word of advice to potentially aid them in their assignments.
Anne found herself quickly lost, trying to follow the instructions and the diagrams.
Gilbert, sitting close enough for the end of a red braid to graze his arm occasionally, quickly grasped her frustration when she flipped back to the page with the preliminary notes.
“Can I help?” he offered quietly, not wanting to embarrass her and noticing with a bit of awkwardness the way his classmates kept looking at them and then talking to their desk mates. He wished Avonlea didn’t run so well on gossip.
“I-” Anne wanted to be able to insist she had it well in hand, but when she met Gilbert Blythe’s warmly kind brown eyes, her resolve crumbled. “Do you understand this at all?”
“Math comes easier to me than English,” Gilbert admitted, sliding her slate over to him. “But this is how I simplify the steps,” he told her, making sure not to draw the attention of the teacher as he wrote down abbreviated steps. “That should work for all of the problems.”
“How did you get that from these pages?” Anne demanded, her brow furrowing. “That is certainly not how I would have begun based on these instructions.”
“The first paragraphs aren’t instructions,” he told her, pointing to the problems and explaining things in a way that Anne felt, tentatively, she may actually be able to handle. “It’s easier for me to start with these steps because everything after this, geometry or algebra, works from this, even if fractions are supposed to be solved differently.”
He turned back to his work when he felt Anne had a handle on them, offering help when she asked, but wanting her to feel capable without it. Odds were, the comments Mr. Philips had made about them had not stung only him. Gilbert had already been nervous enough returning to school behind the others (and very much determined to catch up and, indeed, to pull ahead) without their unpleasant teacher deliberately embarrassing him. Truly, he was horrified that Mr. Philips would speak so to a student- far more to a girl who was new to Avonlea.
When he finished, he couldn’t help but glance over at Anne’s half completed problem, furrowing his brow when he saw her twirling her pencil and gazing outside.
“Everything alright?” he asked, nudging her because she barely seemed present.
She blinked and her twinkling green eyes turned to him. “Oh, I suppose. I just felt that tree was calling me over and I cannot go, I was trying to convey my apologies without words,” she said, pointing to one of the cherry trees across from the stream that cut near the schoolhouse. Gilbert smiled a little, feeling her could understand the desire to go sit among the branches. Now that he looked at it, he could absolutely understand the concept that the tree was fluttering its branches at Anne, trying to entice her to it. “I so wanted to go to school, but it’s ever so hard to concentrate when you might miss the dryad calling for you.” She shook herself, looking to her slate. “But Marilla would say that that is nonsense and I shouldn’t speak of such things in school.”
“I don’t think it’s nonsense,” Gilbert surprised her. “But I do think you ought to shock Mr. Philips by proving yourself capable of his schoolwork,” he told her, tapping next to her slate. “I rather think it would be an excellent challenge to show him we can handle what he thinks we cannot.”
Anne smiled a little as she got back to work, catching the way Gilbert slumped a little in his seat, muffling a yawn and covering his eyes. “Why have you not been in school, then?” she asked, trying to focus on her work as well as satiate her curiosity, which would absolutely drive her imagination wild.
“I’ve been sick,” he admitted, “for a while. My parents took me out of Avonlea to recover and my mother didn’t think too much school conducive to such.”
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have-”
“You would have found out anyway,” he pointed out, his smile quirking a little. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but the people in this town will talk.”
“I suppose I have,” Anne said, flushing. “And most would think me rather shocking,” she told him.
“Ah, yes,” Gilbert stifled a laugh. “Your run in with Mrs. Rachel Lynde. That one didn’t take long, did it?”
Anne flushed a deep red, and Gilbert watched the color creep up the side of her face that he could see. “She cast my red hair up to me.”
“It is rather like carrots,” Gilbert pointed out, pointing the end of her braid at her. Anne’s face contorted into a scowl and he tugged very gently, “I like it. It’s different.”
Flummoxed, Anne gaped at him. “I- Oh.”
Before Anne could come up with one of her eloquent little speeches, Mr. Philips dismissed the class for lunch with very strict instructions that they be in their seats before he reappeared. Anne fairly leapt up, joining Diana excitedly as they headed for the stream where they kept their lunch pails.
“You get to sit with Gilbert,” Diana told her in a delighted little whisper. “Oh, Anne, isn’t he handsome?”
Anne tilted her head at the starry expression on Diana’s pretty face. “Your Gilbert is very handsome,” she conceded, “but he told me my hair was the color of carrots?” Her voice lifted a little at the end, still unsure how to be as censured as she wanted to be, but confused because he had then proceeded to say he liked the color.
“Oh, he used to call me a crow all the time,” she confided, “and he teased the girls terribly before he got sick. Used to be up to some mischief all the time. He even pinned Ruby Gillis’ hair to her chair when we had a different schoolmaster and she shrieked something awful and then started to cry. All the boys thought he was great fun. He seems to have quieted down, though. He’s gotten so nice, or so my mother said when she visited Mrs. Blythe last week for tea.”
“He does seem nice, I suppose,” Anne mused, “but I had rather hoped to be sitting with you, Diana, and I miss you dearly across the room.”
Diana gave Anne’s cheek an affectionate kiss in response, ignoring the way Josie Pye’s nose curled and lifted as the other girls came to join them.
“Oh, how is it to be sitting with a boy, Anne?” Ruby Gillis asked. “And one who is so dreamy?”
Anne flushed pink, opening her pail to share what Marilla had put in her lunch. “I think it seems awfully strange to sit with a boy, but I guess it makes sense to pair us?” she offered. “I think we would catch up ever so much faster if we were sitting with our chums, and it does seem unorthodox to be sitting with a boy. But Marilla says I am not to question those in the authority, surely he knows better than I would.”
“Well, I should think so,” Josie said, haughty, “After all, you have never even been to a proper school and he certainly wouldn’t want you to harm the learning of others just because you’re behind.”
Diana pursed her lips, “Let’s go pick gum at Mr. Bell’s,” she suggested, changing the subject.
“Oh, let’s!” Ruby said, excitedly. “Anne, you’ll enjoy it so much. Even the boys spend time there, and it’s so much fun to be with them when they aren’t teasing.”
Anne linked her arm with Diana’s. “Well, then, show me the way.”
Gilbert had hung back near the school house with Fred Wright and Moody Spurgeon when the other boys rushed off to the spruce field. Enjoyable though it was, they would often lose track of time and have to run back. After the warning to be in their seats when Mr. Philips reappeared, Gilbert did not especially fancy the prospect of trying to run back to beat their teacher. He had gotten legions better, but he didn’t trust his lungs not to humiliate him just yet.
He sat at the base of the cherry tree that had captured Anne’s attention earlier, listening to Fred and Moody banter. He was grateful that they had chosen to sit with him, both with flimsy excuses about how picking gum was no longer entertainment.
When they heard the frantic, breathless laughter of the others running for the school house, the boys made their ways in and to their seats. Gilbert grinned, amused by the pile of students who spilled through the door and to their seats. Mr. Philips entered only seconds before Anne, who, barely after the rest of the late students, tumbled into her seat beside him breathlessly, her color hectic and her eyes bright and large and without regret. For the moment.
Mr. Philips had lost his energy for punishment, but he needed to save face. Miss Shirley proved to be an excellent outlet and he puffed up his chest and commanded her to the front of the room. “You deliberately disregarded my instructions, Miss Shirley, and so you will stand at the front the rest of the afternoon.” Anne turned a spotty shade of red, clenching her little hands into fists to keep from covering her face in shame. “Pick up the chalk and write on the board ‘Anne Shirley has no regard for time and no respect for her class. Anne Shirley must learn obedience.’”
With trembling fingers, Anne attempted to write the phrases. Mr. Philips smirked condescendingly before snatching the chalk from her and writing the words, very clearly and specifically omitting the extremely important ‘e’, beneath hers so that the class would see just how abominable her spelling was.
Mortified, Anne very deliberately stared at the back wall; if she were to meet Diana’s sympathetic glances, Gilbert’s scowl at the injustice, or Josie Pye’s satisfied smile, she would definitely cry, and she refused to give Mr. Philips the satisfaction.
At the end of the school day, Anne trooped over and gathered all of her things. “You can leave some of it here-” Gilbert started quietly, grabbing his own books so that he could start studying.
“I will not be coming back, so that won’t be necessary,” Anne said, turning up her nose pridefully even though her eyes still stung with unshed tears.
“Oh,” Gilbert said, blinking in his surprise. Before he could offer more, Diana had swept Anne from the schoolhouse, linking their arms and walking close so she could speak quietly with Anne as they walked.
Moments later, Gilbert called out for them to wait as he caught up to them along the path. “Anne, if you’d like, we could study together sometimes?” he offered. “I know you don’t want to go back, but I also need to pull ahead and it might be easier to work together? I understand it can’t be every day, Miss Cuthbert probably needs you and I help my father on the farm but I just figured-”
“That would be very helpful, thank you, Gilbert Blythe,” Anne said, sweeping her hand across one cheek to remove the tear that had fallen. Gilbert graced the pair with a wide smile.
“Great, I’ll come by Green Gables sometime, then,” he said, tipping his head to the both of them in farewell before he jogged off to catch up to Fred Wright, a little out of breath by then.
“Anne,” Diana breathed, gaping. “Oh, you get to spend time with Gilbert Blythe,” she clutched Anne’s arm a little tighter.
“We need to catch up in our lessons,” Anne replied simply. “It will be especially helpful because I can learn without having to go back to school. Oh, I wish I had been able to go more than just a day, though, Diana. We’ll be parted for hours,” she sighed.
“Marilla will allow it?” she asked, skeptical.
“Oh, she must,” Anne said. “I cannot return. Mr. Philips has cast an unforgivable shadow over Avonlea school and I cannot venture back into it.”
It was a couple of weeks before the novelty of Anne’s refusal to set foot in the schoolhouse wore down, and Gilbert hadn’t yet been able to make his way to Green Gables. He’d been embarrassed at his lack of progress with studying, except for a half hour after supper, because his father had needed (he’d offered it; his parents were still wary of him overtaxing) help in the fields. What reminded him of his idea to study with her was finding a dictionary in his desk and, then, the same afternoon, his mother discussed the ‘Cuthbert’s new girl’ during supper with his father.
Gilbert perked up at the mention of Green Gables.
“I had to drop a pattern off with Marilla this morning,” his mother mentioned, tactfully ignoring the way his father started a bit before continuing, “she let me in for some tea and I could not believe the difference in that home. My word, it used to be so…” she searched for the word, “sterile! And that little girl must somehow have wheedled her way in, because there seems to be a warmth there that was impossible before and there were flowers everywhere! I hadn’t met her, except for seeing her at church now and again, but goodness is she a charming little thing. A bit odd, and her hair really is frightfully red, but she’s got the sweetest expression, John, and I rather understand how she stole the hearts of the Cuthberts. Even Mrs. Lynde finds her a sweet little thing, and you know how she felt when Marilla first mentioned adoption, though I daresay everyone was rather shocked.”
“She’s certainly a funny thing,” John mentioned, sipping his tea. “I met her a couple of days after she moved in to Green Gables,” he added when his wife and son looked at him, startled. “She wandered into the apple orchard with the queerest expression- said something about fairies leading her to see the apple trees, and ‘oh, how she would be eternally in their debt for showing her such beauty’ and ‘did I have a name for it?,” he laughed. “She seemed disappointed when I told her it was just called the Blythe Orchard round here, told me it lacked imagination, but that she could come up with something just for her. And then she said something about the “Lake of Shining Waters”,” he said, furrowing his brow, “before she took her leave.”
Mrs. Amelia Blythe smiled and then looked at her son proudly, “Gilbert, she said she’d met you at school and that you were quite kind to her. I was so proud to hear that; that little girl deserves some kindness, I suspect.” Her lips pursed a little, “I don’t think she had a very easy life before coming here, or at least, reading betwixt the lines, that’s what I assume.”
“I actually offered to help her study,” Gilbert admitted. “We’re both behind and because she’s not going back to school…” he trailed off.
“I have half a mind to give Mr. Philips a piece of my mind,” Amelia said, emphatic. “Humiliating the poor girl even though a dozen other students were late,” she shook her head. “Mrs. Pye was discussing the debacle with Mrs. Harmon Andrews as though Anne had deserved it, but, oh, if it had been Josie…” she harrumphed.
Gilbert grinned at his mother’s dark expression. “She’s a Pye, after all,” he laughed, standing and kissing her cheek. “I’m going to make good on my offer to study with Anne, I think,” he told them. “I’ll be back in time for dinner. Let Fred or Moody know where I am if they come ‘round?” he asked. His mother nodded and waved him off with a plea to make sure he doesn’t overdo anything.
With a promise not to, he ran to grab his books and was off.
When he got to the gate at the front of Green Gables, he about startled poor Matthew out of his wits. Mr. Cuthbert had been trying to rehang the gate at the front fence because it had got just loose enough that the latch wouldn’t work any longer and the gate hung crooked. Goodness knew Marilla felt the whole place was falling apart of something like that happened in view of the road.
He’d been trying to hold the gate up and in place while driving the latches in, but he hadn’t yet been successful.
Gilbert, after apologizing for surprising him, set his books down and walked over, without asking (because Matthew would never ask), and held the gate upright and in line with the lock so Matthew could tighten the fastening.
“Well, now,” Matthew flushed a bit. Fortunately, Gilbert was a boy, or Matthew would have been too flustered to do anything properly. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome, Mr. Cuthbert. I’m Gilbert Blythe,” he explained, holding out his hand for the strange old man to shake. “I’m here to see Anne?”
Matthew shook it a little tentatively before gathering his tools. “Go on, then,” he said, “Marilla’s definitely inside, if Anne isn’t. She’ll know where she got off to if she’s not in.”
“Thank you, Mr. Cuthbert,” Gilbert smiled before gathering his books and stepping through the fixed gate. He waved when he saw Anne stepping on the porch just outside the front door, smiling a little bit as she looked between him and Matthew. She blew Matthew a cheery kiss before waving Gilbert inside.
“How are you, Gilbert?” she asked, closing the door securely behind them.
“I’m well, Anne, and you?” he asked, removing his hat.
“As well as could be,” she told him sunnily. “Thank you for helping Matthew, I do feel so terrible that I can’t help him the way a boy could have.”
“I suspect he doesn’t mind,” Gilbert told her. “Would you like to do some work?”
“Oh! I’d quite forgotten about that,” she told him. “Let me just tell Marilla and we can go outside?” she asked. “If that’s okay? She thinks I spend far too much time outside for a civilized person and Josie Pye said my freckles are positively atrocious because of it, but it’s ever so much more pleasant studying when the grass wants to help you and the flowers whisper answers in your ears, don’t you think?”
The question, fortunately, was rhetorical, because Gilbert didn’t know how to answer and Marilla had just stepped out of the kitchen with an exasperated shake of her head. “Child, you say such shocking things and I don’t know what to make of them.”
“Marilla,” Anne’s cheerful response came, “you are very patient with me,” she told her with an affectionate kiss of her cheek. “Gilbert Blythe came to help me with my schoolwork. We’re going to go outside,” she told her. “Perhaps near the babbling brook or down Lover’s Lane.”
“Well, mind you're back in time that he can make it home at an appropriate hour and don’t wander too far or you’ll find too many things aside from your school work to occupy yourself with.” Marilla gave an amiable nod to Gilbert before turning back to her kitchen muttering about ‘babbling, indeed’.
Anne grabbed her things so that they could go, and Gilbert dutifully followed her while she explained that Lover’s Lane was what she and Diana called the pretty way behind Green Gables.
They had been studying together for a few weeks, both far more confident and had the material well in hand as they moved into the fifth reader without Mr. Philip’s help, when Gilbert found himself surprised by the appearance of Anne Shirley in the schoolhouse. She gave him a miserable little greeting, her bottom lip trembling as she sat and dropped her head into her arms and tried to ignore the whispers of those around them.
“Anne?” he asked quietly, grateful that Mr. Philips was too focused on ‘Priscilla’ Andrews to note Anne’s return. “What’s wrong?”
“Oh, Gilbert,” she whispered, tilting to peek at him with watery eyes. “Diana’s been forbidden to ever speak with me.”
He gaped and looked over to where Diana Barry sat with an equally shaky expression, resolutely looking forward. “Why?”
“Mrs. Barry thinks I set her drunk Saturday last and says she knew better than to let her associate with an orphan unfit for her girl.”
Gilbert was outraged on Anne’s behalf. “Drunk?” he asked, shaking his head. “Well, of course you wouldn’t have done it. You were so excited to have Diana to tea.” And she had been, Gilbert remembered her telling him about it on Friday, barely able to contain herself with the thrill of it.
“I accidentally gave her currant wine,” she said shamefully, “instead of the raspberry cordial.”
“You do seem to have the knack for getting yourself into trouble,” Gilbert shook his head. “But just be patient, surely it’ll blow over soon.”
The debacle with Diana Barry did not blow over as soon as he thought, but the sting of rejection by Mrs. Barry was softened that first day back by the delight and gifts of trinkets from the girls who had missed Anne dearly and, to Gilbert’s consternation, a pencil gifted to her by Charlie Sloan. Gilbert found himself wandering further from the school that day, plucking strawberry apples from his orchard before wandering back, just in time to beat Mr. Philips and to leave the apple with the prettiest shape and color resting on Anne’s side of their desk. He couldn’t help the rush of gladness from Anne’s excitement at the sweet apple.
A bit of the competitive edge they had discovered during their studying had traipsed behind them into the classroom and led to them being quite the pair during class. When Gilbert’s name was written for correct math work, Anne determinedly out spelled him and then the roles were reversed the next afternoon after he helped her with her math the previous afternoon and she gave him tips for remembering how to spell words more accurately. Josie Pye was bitterly envious when both of their names were written one day, far more public and obvious than any ‘Take-Notice’ that she could have contrived.
They were triumphant and supportive when one of them came out tops in the examinations, bursting with pride in the other for all of the hard work they had done; even Mr. Philips had to admit they could officially begin the fifth-class work (within his class, that is). Neither the Cuthberts nor the Blythes could find a thing to complain about- Gilbert was sensible enough to keep Anne from wandering too far into her imaginings and Anne’s wonder was contagious enough to keep Gilbert from becoming too anxious about his studies. As the weather turned, the children found themselves inside more and more and Marilla enjoyed having Gilbert over, Matthew found himself rather liking the Blythe boy, and Amelia and John were finding themselves very quickly enchanted by Anne, who couldn’t help but make the dreariest of places sunny with her nature.
For Gilbert’s fifteenth birthday, Anne was allowed to pack some of Marilla’s plum puffs, which she tucked carefully into Gilbert’s desk early before school that morning. The girls had taken to bringing extra sweets for their friends’ birthdays and she was so excited when Marilla permitted it- indeed, she baked them fresh the previous afternoon, quietly happy to do something for John Blythe’s son and for Anne’s good friend.
Of course, Anne did still find herself capable of melancholy, when she bitterly missed Diana and found herself determined to feel as blue as possible about it.
In spite of her sorrows, Anne was delighted amongst the stars for Gilbert when he was requested to perform a recitation at the Debating Club’s concert and helped him select his piece and proved to be a rapt audience when he needed to ensure he had “Bingen on the Rhine” memorized.
Amelia would work quietly in her kitchen when Gilbert was learning the piece, bursting with pride at his strong voice and bewitched by the young slip of a girl who helped him so well. Anne’s lack of envy for Gilbert’s success would have softened any heart towards her.
However, the sorrows, too, came to pass, when, in January, Minnie May Barry came down with the croup. Mr. and Mrs. Blythe heard of it the next day, and Gilbert discovered it when he attended school and sat for an examination without Anne at their desk. He grimaced to hear Charlie Sloan complain about her absence and Fred and Moody graciously changed the subject.
Gilbert was not permitted to walk to Green Gables then, as his mother pointed out Anne would likely need her rest and it was cold enough that it could hardly be considered necessary to walk all the way to Green Gables in hopes that Anne was around. They could absolutely take a break from their studies, and Anne would probably be itching to dance over to the Barry’s in light of her saving Minnie May.
To Gilbert’s consternation, the weather took a turn that night and his parents wouldn’t hear of his trying to make his way out. Even his father was staying in, having taken care of the animals the previous night. Indeed, Avonlea school was vacant that day, but he wanted to know how Anne felt after taking care of Minnie May and whether she would be able to see her friend again. And he really wanted to go through his piece just once more- as the weekend concert grew closer, he found himself growing nervous.
The weather finally lightened just a day before the Friday concert, and Gilbert was relieved to be allowed to traipse to the school, which was cushioned in a blanket of snow that had hardly been touched, except to clear a path to the door.
He was absolutely horrified when Mr. Philips separated the pair- now that they were caught up, it wasn’t appropriate to have them sit together any longer. Anne was moved next to Diana Barry and, in spite of her cheer for getting to sit with her bosom friend, she found herself remarkably regretful that she couldn’t sit with Gilbert. Gilbert was seated with Fred Wright, so he could hardly complain.
His new position in the classroom, unfortunately, left him little room to avoid the snarky remarks from Josie Pye to Ruby Gillis, who was tuned out most of the time to Josie’s rude comments which, likely, was a positive thing. Ruby was far more interested in studying the boys than in listening to Josie.
“Well, I think the whole thing was horribly exaggerated,” Josie sniffed, her nose in the air. “Diana Barry certainly wouldn’t have known better, and Anne Shirley probably exaggerated the illness to the doctor, who then was forced to take her word for it and say that she had saved Minnie May. Honestly, the idea! It’s completely ridiculous and Anne Shirley has pulled a wool over everyone’s eyes, but certainly not mine. I know her true character. And now she’s going to the Debating Club’s concert, so we’ll have to deal with her airs there! The idea! Mother thinks the Cuthberts have lost all their good sense, an orphan at the concert!”
Gilbert scowled- Josie Pye’s vitriol was exhausting. But he was glad to hear Anne would be attending; she hadn’t expected to be permitted, and so it was with that understanding that she had been helping him with his piece regardless.
Anne’s presence, no doubt, would prove a comfort when he was in front of everyone.
Miraculously, Anne was completely immune to the whispers around her. She was wrapped up in her imagination of how the night would go and she was eager to leave when school was dismissed that day. She waved a cheery farewell to Gilbert and linked arms with Diana, forcing herself to maintain relative calm so she didn’t go leaping to get to the Barry’s faster- she would be getting dressed there with Diana!
The Blythes sat near the Barrys at the concert, Anne between Diana and Mrs. Blythe, quite content in spite of her outfit’s lack of beauty. She was so thrilled to be there, she ignored her tight black sleeves and plain shape. Besides, she would be homely next to Diana even if she wore the puffiest sleeves in the world. Anne was quite determinedly enjoying herself and didn’t notice the smug satisfaction on the Pye women’s faces or the little frowns on those of Mrs. Blythe and Mrs. Lynde. The gentlemen didn’t notice such things, but the women who cared for the girl wished they could communicate to Marilla that pretty things would not spoil the girl who could happily appreciate the slightest things- spoiling Anne would be quite impossible.
None were filled with more pride than Anne, who was practically bursting, when Gilbert gave his recitation.
His eyes met hers and she gave him the brightest smile she could, clasping her hands together as he nailed every word, every intonation that he had rehearsed. His dimple appeared as he recited ‘you’d have known her by the merriment that sparkled in her eye’ and he remembered himself, forcing his gaze to address the audience as a whole. His mother, though, pressed her husband’s hand in hers when Gilbert recited the first line to that stanza and she knew his eyes were on the girl beside her. Oh, suddenly she could see a future that stretched happily for her son and she could only hope… They were children, still, though. But in her heart of hearts…
Mrs. Blythe was not the only one who could follow Gilbert’s gaze, and Diana Barry gave her bosom friend a sly bit of a smile when she mentioned it at the Barry’s as they prepared for bed- they’d sleep in the spare room!
“I think he was brilliant, too, Anne, and when he came to the line ‘There is another- not a sister’ he looked right at you!” Diana, who might have envied any other girl for Gilbert’s attentions, could not find a speck of jealousy within her. She knew Anne and Gilbert had developed a friendship that, though odd for boys and girls their ages, was unbelievably close and trusting. The two made quite a pair. They made sense, which people had to deliberately try not to see when they were disproving or (in Josie Pye’s case) envious.
“Oh, I just made it easier for him to pretend he wasn’t in front of a crowd,” Anne waved her off, tying the knot of her nightgown in a pretty little bow. “Race you to the spare room?” she asked, perking up.
Gilbert, to Anne’s embarrassment, got quite a lot of amusement out of that tale. He rather believed that Anne was quite possibly the only person he’d ever known who could accidentally get into as many scrapes without deliberation. She was also, he thought fondly, the only one who could get out of them and secure the affection of as many people at the same time as she could, though. Josephine Barry was as prickly as they came and she felt quite comfortable mentioning to as many in Avonlea as she came across that Anne was unlike any other little girl she’d ever known, and that she had wrapped this ‘old ogre’ right around her finger.
Marilla and Matthew were rightfully proud of their little girl at the proclamation that Anne was welcome to visit her, with Diana, whenever she could. Though they could scarcely bare to part with her, it was a pleasant compliment just the same.
“You really think she’s one of your kindred spirits?” Gilbert asked, fastening Anne’s scarf tighter as they walked through Birch Path. Though there was still snow on the ground, none fell that day and the wind was pleasantly calm, so it wasn’t bitterly cold.
“Oh, I do,” Anne replied earnestly. “There are ever so many more kindred spirits than I thought there were. Matthew, Marilla, Diana, Miss. Barry, and you…” she trailed off, a secret little smile gracing her features. “Thank you for walking with me, Marilla says I was going to go mad being cooped up much longer and since Minnie May got sick, Mrs. Barry prefers Diana doesn’t leave the house too often for all the snow.”
“Ah, well, I enjoy the walks too. And my father says we’re likely coming to last of the really cold days; thinks we’ve got another week or two and then the weather should take a turn and Spring will come. He’s already told me if I’m healthy enough to be out of the house all the time, he fully expects my help with the spring planting,” Gilbert told her, grinning when she laughed.
“It’s true, all these walks should have you fit as a fiddle,” she elbowed him lightly. “But it must be nice that your parents finally have faith that you are well.”
“It is,” he acknowledged. “I hated worrying them, and at the rate everything is improving, I’ll be able to go away for school in the next few years.”
“Oh?” she asked. “You don’t want to be a farmer?”
“It’s an admirable profession,” Gilbert hedged. “But I think I should like to attend medical school. Maybe be a teacher for a few years to help pay for it. All of our studying should have me more than prepared. There’s a school in Charlottetown, actually- Queens Academy. It’s where… I won’t say a lot, because it doesn’t happen often, but if Avonlea students go away to study or to get their teaching licenses, generally they go to Queens, though a few go to the school in Shrewsbury, I suppose. I think I’d like to try it.”
“Oh, that would be lovely,” Anne mused, thinking of all the young hearts and minds she could touch as a teacher- as a beloved teacher. She could never be like Mr. Philips, but she couldn’t see Gilbert as such either.
“It’s just something I’m considering,” Gilbert raked a hand through his curls. “I don’t know if it’s even a possibility yet, but… One can hope.”
“It’s okay to have dreams, Gil,” Anne prodded carefully. “Realistic or no.”
Gilbert nodded, shoving his gloved hands deep into his coat pockets to keep himself from taking her hand in his. “Let’s focus on Spring for now, shall we?”
And Spring came, indeed in the next week and a half, when the snow melted and the heads of flowers peaked bashfully from the ground, asking in a whisper if it was clear for them to come then. The trees budded and gestured for the pokes of green to come and play, encouraging them to grow and at last, Mayflowers burst into bloom to greet and laugh with Anne Shirley and all who appreciated them.
Mr. Philips, in a fit of uncommon congeniality, allowed the Avonlea school to take a lunch that would bleed well into the afternoon, cutting the school day short so that they could gather the Mayflowers. The girls wove buds and blooms into each other’s hair and onto their hats and giggled about Mr. Philips offering Prissy Andrews a bunch of flowers with a rather bashful expression touching his normally stern features.
The boys plucked some blooms, but most spent time daring and playing. Gilbert, however, spent rather a lot of time selecting his blooms, gathering them into two bouquets carefully. One, he tied with a length of ribbon his mother had used to bind a sack of sweets in his lunch pail. The other he arranged within the mostly empty pail. As the children gathered their things, Gilbert joined Anne while she was getting her things together, blushing lightly as he offered the bouquet he had bound with a ribbon. His dimple appeared when she gave a delighted clasp of her hands, her eyes meeting his with a sparkle before she contained herself enough to accept the bunch. “Thank you, Gilbert.”
“If your birthday had been this month, I would have wanted to give you flowers,” he said regretfully. March had still been pretty barren.
“I like to think my soul was born in Spring,” she responded dreamily, breathing in the perfect blooms as Diana joined them. Diana, hiding a secret grin at the pair and forcing herself not to laugh aloud at the fact that they had been entirely oblivious to Josie Pye’s reaction to Anne receiving flowers, joined the two, linking her arm with Anne’s. When Anne was safely home at Green Gables, she untied the flowers and placed them in the cracked jug in her room, carefully selecting a few blooms and retying them, and setting them aside to dry.
When the time came for school to end and Mr. Philips to leave, the boys of the class had rather a time of it trying not to laugh at the girls, who were making ninnies of themselves by crying as though in despair over the departure of the not much loved schoolmaster.
He felt not qualms with calling her on it, either, when he decided to escort her and Diana towards their homes.
“Oh, partings are always a bit sorrowful, Gilbert,” Anne responded to his teasing, shaking her head at him. “Can’t you imagine even being a little sad to see him go?”
“No,” he replied frankly. “I cannot. I don’t feel he was a very good teacher and goodness knows he wasn’t a kind one. You’re getting yourself all worked up because you enjoy the excuse,” he accused, her theatrics amusing him.
She harrumphed, turning her nose up. “You don’t have a romantic bone in your body, Gilbert Blythe,” she proclaimed, taking Diana’s arm securely in hers when Diana laughed and shook her head at them.
If she didn’t find his amusement so charming, she might have resented him for not commiserating with her about her dreadful mistake with the cake she made Mrs. Allen. A few afternoons later, Gilbert found himself laughing heartily as they walked through Blythe Orchard so that Gilbert could surprise her with a new ‘spot’ to adore.
“To be fair, you said you had a cold,” Gilbert mused, holding a branch out of the way for her. “And really, who puts liniment in a vanilla bottle?”
“After the raspberry cordial, I really should be more careful,” Anne grimaced, “Marilla says she’s never known the like of anyone who got into as much trouble as I tend to. But it’s just so hard to be good when you make up your mind to do it and then make a mistake anyways.”
Anne was absolutely beside herself with delight when Gilbert showed her to Hester Gray’s garden. “I figured you probably hadn’t ventured this far yet, but it’s best in Summer.”
“Oh, oh!” Anne exclaimed, holding her arms securely over her chest as if that would surely keep her heart from bursting at the magic of it. “What is this place?”
Gilbert told her the story of sweet Hester Gray, a little watered down because the tale had faded with time.
Anne sat near a rose bush that was bursting with blooms, drawing her fingers over the petals of a particularly plump one with wonder. “Oh, how romantic,” she sighed. “And the flowers still bloom for her. I wonder if she speaks to the flowers from heaven, encouraging them to continue more and more beautifully every year.”
“Or they bloom with the hope that someone will come across and keep them company,” Gilbert mused, moving to gather some sweet smelling flowers.
“Oh, don’t let’s pick them,” Anne pleaded. “I’m afraid it might break the spell and the magic in the flowers may not leave the garden.”
Gilbert couldn’t recall being as startled by fear than when his family found, in passing at Carmody, that the doctor had been to see Anne and she would be laid up in Green Gables weeks after the school term started, it was likely. It took a moment for it to register that she had broken her ankle- she wasn’t ill. It was the cause of the accident, though, that had Gilbert frowning and excusing himself. He hadn’t been to see Anne in nearly a week, which was quite a long time, but Summer was heavy laden with work. As he walked the miles towards Green Gables, he gathered some flowers to bring Anne. She had gotten hurt because of a ridiculous dare, but he figured she’d been punished well enough: she wouldn’t get to meet the new teacher.
Marilla shook her head, exasperated as she opened the door and waved him to the stairs. “She’s in the east gable,” she told him and he paused a moment before moving. He’d never, understandably, been upstairs. It simply wasn’t done. “Superintendent Bell left just a little while ago, leave the door open,” she tacked on disjointedly, walking to the kitchen before she could see Gilbert’s blush.
Heaven’s sake, he thought, she’s only twelve!
He rapped on the doorway to Anne’s room, leaning casually against it as she pulled her attention away from the Snow queen and to her visitor.
“Gilbert!” she lit at the sight of him in her doorway.
“A roof, Anne. Really?” he asked, wry, as his brow curved upwards.
“Josie Pye dared me. What would you do if you had been dared?” she demanded, her bottom lip jutting out in a pout.
Gilbert’s expression didn’t change and she huffed.
“It was a matter of honor,” she insisted.
“It wasn’t a fair dare,” Gilbert told her. “You shouldn’t have responded to it and Josie shouldn’t have suggested it in the first place. You’re above that, though.”
“Apparently, I am not,” she replied, her nose turning up.
Gilbert sighed and stepped in with the flowers. “Sorry, Anne. I didn’t come to fight.”
Anne’s gaze lit on the flowers, grinning and holding out her hands for them in spite of herself. “You’re forgiven, but only because these are absolutely lovely.”
He laughed and sat in the chair that had been pulled beside her bed for all of her visitors. “Oh, I see,” he leaned back, “I play second fiddle to stems.”
“Stems with beautiful petals and magic to them,” she nodded, setting them to her side. “I have missed you, though, Gil,” she told him. “It feels like I’ve hardly seen you this season.”
“Well, I would say that you would see more of me with school starting…” he trailed off, raising his brow at her.
“You’ll tell me about the new teacher, won’t you?” she pleaded. “Diana has already promised to, but she doesn’t focus on details.”
“I’ll consider it. It might just encourage you to heal faster, though, if you are spared the details,” he grinned wickedly.
“Oh, Gilbert Blythe! If you aren’t going to be helpful, you may as well not visit me at all.”
“And have you miss out on school work?” he demanded. “Never.”
And he faithfully visited Anne, carting with him assignments given from Miss Stacy, until she was healed enough to attend school.
As he would have predicted, Anne was absolutely enamored with the teacher. Indeed, the two were kindred spirits; Miss Stacy had a way of teaching that perfectly suited Anne’s dreamy, adventurous way of learning.
When they put on a concert, though, Anne truly shined- radiant within and out. It was during one of her recitations that Gilbert realized more fully that he was rather taken with her. It was one thing to acknowledge an inkling in the back of your head, and entirely another to be bludgeoned with it when she appeared at the hall in a pretty dress that complimented her skin and made her hair absolutely shine with a smile and sparkle in her large eyes that far outshone any he had ever seen before. Curses on him, she was still so young! And, as yet, she had shown absolutely no interest in the flirtations of burgeoning teens. Fortunately, he thought uncharitably, she scorned Charlie Sloane’s attentions with a vengeance. Something about him telling his mother she was the smartest in school and some comment about that being better than being pretty.
Of course, Gilbert found her absolutely brilliant and lovelier still as she grew. Avonlea and Green Gables had worked miracles for the girl.
Gilbert’s heart leapt into his throat though when he saw Anne- and it was, indeed, Anne- walk into the schoolhouse with closely sheered hair and dash into her seat, hiding her face in her arms. Gilbert’s eyes felt wide and his face a little white in shock. Her hair! The scornful triumph on Josie’s face further worried Gilbert as Josie muttered mean things to Ruby and to the others around her.
Oh, Anne.
“There is nothing honorable or romantic about cutting your hair off because you’ve dyed it,” Anne lamented later as they strolled down Lover’s Lane. Gilbert, truly, was still trying to adjust to the lack of the long braids, which he had become rather fond of.
“I just don’t understand why you dyed it,” he admitted, ruffling his hair.
“My red hair is my cross, I suppose. But I was overcome with irresistible temptation when that peddler told me it would become a beautiful shade of black, and I would so adore to have dark hair,” she sighed, reaching to tug her hair before remembering its absence.
“I like your hair,” Gilbert mumbled, digging his hands into his pockets and kicking at a pebble in their path. He missed Anne’s blush as she looked at him with her wide eyes. As it was, she didn’t (or perhaps couldn’t) respond.
That Summer, Gilbert felt his heart nearly give out once more when he saw Anne clinging to the wood of the bridge, soaked clothes weighing her down terribly and her eyes shut tight, her face as white as he’d ever seen it.
“Anne!” he exclaimed, rowing over as quickly as he could and drawing up alongside the piling. Anne’s eyes flew open with a relieved gasp and she slipped her hand into his and tightened her fingers around his as soon as he held his out. “Are you alright?”
“Oh, Gil, you have no idea what a relief it is to see you,” she breathed as he helped her into the dory.
“I think I can guess,” he replied, helping her sit before lifting the paddles. “Are you alright?” he repeated, looking her over with concern. “What happened?”
“Oh,” she sighed, dropping her chin into her palm with a pout. “Oh, you’ll think I am horribly silly. We were playing Elaine.”
“Like from the play?” he asked, furrowing his brow. “And you were the Lily Maid?”
“I was. It wasn’t practical, but Ruby was terrified and so the role fell to me. But the boat sprung a leak and I just had to hope and pray it would bring me over until the girls found help, but you found me first.”
“Thank Heaven for that,” Gilbert huffed. “You get into the strangest scrapes, Anne Shirley.”
“Yes, well, I’ll never make the same mistake again. And, oh, Mr. Barry’s flat is resting at the bottom of the pond now,” Anne pursed her lips.
“Something tells me Mr. Barry won’t be so concerned for the flat when he realizes you nearly drowned,” Gilbert pointed out, rowing them to the edge of the pond and standing to help her out carefully before pulling Mr. Andrews’ boat out with him.
“Oh, what a romantic thing, nearly to drown,” Anne mused, finally viewing the romance of the situation. “I always used to think it would be a nice thing to almost drown. Not a very pleasant experience, but it’s a story now.”
Gilbert laughed, giving into his impulse to pull her in for a hug. “I’m just relieved I found you, what if you hadn’t gotten to the bridge?” he asked, holding her close for a moment before reluctantly releasing her.
“The girls went for help,” Anne said, her white face turning pink. “But I am grateful you were there.”
He smoothed a wet curl of her short hair away from her cheek. “Well, come, then, I guess we’d better find them and let them know you haven’t drowned.”
When the Queen’s class was organized, Anne was more grateful than ever for her friendship with Gilbert, though she thought as much with a pang of remorse toward Diana.
They pushed each other to their very best and they were both very much relieved when the class finally ended for the summer.
“I’m not going to look at a single book the rest of the Summer,” Anne vowed as Gilbert walked her home through Violet Vale.
“Oh?” he asked, raising his brow.
“Textbooks, Gil,” Anne shook her head at him. “What’s wrong? You’ve been quiet this afternoon; although, I guess I do tend to prattle on without letting others get words in edgewise, but you usually manage to hold your own.” She stopped her monologuing and looked up at him expectantly.
“My Uncle’s been visiting,” he hedged before sighing finally. “Anne, I’m going away for the Summer. I’ll be back just before school is set to start again. My Uncle wants me to go to Glen St. Mary with him- thinks I could be a help, I am 17 now, and he wants me to get a taste of what medicine is like, even in a smaller town. Figures it could give me a goal to work towards.”
“But… But your father,” Anne started, pulling at strings that might get him to stay.
“It was my father’s idea,” Gilbert admitted. “He said he’d hire some of my friends to help him out, but he was the one who contacted my uncle about it. Thinks it could be good for me to gain some experience.” More likely, his father wanted him to be absolutely certain before eventually trying for medical school that it was what he truly wanted.
Anne’s expression fell as she dropped her gaze to her feet. “So three months, then?”
“Just about.”
“When do you leave?”
“Monday,” he admitted, rubbing at his neck.
“So this is the last I’ll see of you?” she asked quietly; she already had plans with Diana and Mrs. Allen and Marilla needed her help with some of the mending.
“It’s not so long, really,” he pointed out, regretful in spite of the reassurance he had been trying to convey.
“I suppose you’re right,” Anne tried to offer a small smile.
“And we can write,” Gilbert told her.
Anne positively lit up at that, like a firefly just waking, “We can!” she exclaimed, clasping her books to her chest. “Oh, I’ve never been able to properly write anyone before.”
Indeed, Anne was positively overflowing with words to write to him only days after he had gone.
In fact, Anne had been absolutely enchanted with the idea of writing to Gilbert. She spoke about him more often than she realized and Marilla began watching her girl more carefully, spying the way Anne’s eyes shone when she spoke and the way she’d smile, even briefly, when she would mention something she would need to remember to tell Gilbert about. Sweet Matthew chose to be okay with it- the Blythe boy was good, and he was a responsible boy, even at seventeen. And he trusted Gilbert to recognize that Anne was young still.
Marilla, however, found herself uncommonly possessive of Anne; Anne, she felt, was far too young for any such notions. Even if Anne herself did not express them, she didn’t like that Gilbert had clearly started to view her girl differently. Certainly, she would not prevent a friendship, but she felt she had to remind him of Anne’s age. Granted, Amelia Blythe had already given Gilbert a delicate reminder and John Blythe had discussed it with him at length and found his son in possession of more wisdom than he had expected.
Gilbert knew Anne did not and was not ready to view any relationship with potential for more; romantic as she may be, she liked the idea more than the reality and she was still very young. Gilbert had already long since resigned himself to waiting for her indication before he would offer any implication that he was rather fonder of her than a friend would be. As well, he was determined to ensure that he did not offer any conditional friendship. Regardless of whether Anne would ever share his affections, he certainly could not give up her friendship.
The poor boy was exceptionally embarrassed when Marilla, who was not known for her subtlety, mentioned Anne’s youth to him when he dashed up the walk to Green Gables in September- taller, broader, and more animated than he had been just months before. There was certainly no sign of his illness, years passed, in the young man that stood before her.
Finally, Marilla waved her dishtowel and told him that Anne was walking along “Lover’s Lane”- the temptation to search for fragrant blooms hiding among the trees ‘irresistible’.
He paused when he found her, bringing his hand in a fist over his chest as though that could stop his heart from leaping irrationally. She was dancing and humming to herself, hugging some blossoms to her chest.
A broad grin crept up his face as he watched her- she’d gotten taller and her hair had grown longer since he’d last seen her, but she hadn’t changed.
Her steps stumbled when she felt as though she were being watched, her wide eyes meeting his before she offered him a blinding smile, dropping her flowers and running to him before throwing her arms around him in a most unladylike display. “You’re home!” she exclaimed, offering a laugh when his arms came around her after his momentary surprise.
He savored the contact for a moment before propriety nudged at his thoughts and he forced himself to release her. “You sound surprised,” he tugged the end of her curl gently.
“It’s been ages.”
“We’ve written.”
“It still feels like it’s been a long time, and reading your letters is certainly not the same as listening to your adventures.”
“Well, we have Queen’s exams to start buckling down and studying, so we’ll have plenty more to discuss.”
“I’ve had the most amazing Summer,” Anne told him dreamily.
“No studying?” he asked.
“Not a bit,” she told him brightly. “I packed my books away and Marilla was, surprisingly, very supportive of it. She wasn’t at all as stern as she usually is.”
“Perhaps we’ll be able to get you out more this year then, between bouts of cramming,” Gilbert suggested, offering his arm as they turned back towards Green Gables and she laughed before beginning to tell him about the little adventures she’d had.
They managed a good many ‘adventures’ of their own that year; Marilla’s surprising leniency (in spite of her trepidation of losing her girl) meant that Gilbert was able to escort her to a good many of the Debating Club’s events, to his pride and Josie Pye’s sneer.
Even taking the Queen’s Examinations did little to dampen Anne’s zest for life; due to her consistent studying with Gilbert, neither one of them was worried in the least over the test. Rather, they couldn’t help but tease the other over who was likely to come out first.
When they tied for tops, Anne, who had run for the Blythe’s as quickly as she could, had thoughtlessly hugged Gilbert tight with a bright laugh. “Oh, I couldn’t have dreamed of such an outcome!” she exclaimed, clutching the paper she had stolen from Diana to her chest. “I thought for sure you had first.”
“And I was absolutely positive it was you,” was Gilbert’s response, a grin lighting his features before he squeezed her shoulder. “I need to tell my parents, and you,” he tugged her hair gently. “you need to go tell the Cuthberts the news.”
“Oh!” Anne gasped comically, dramatically. “Oh, Marilla and Matthew! But they’ll be so happy!” she said, rushing away without further dallying.
Gilbert didn’t think he could be more envious than he felt the night of Anne’s recitation. He’d been there for her as she had for him, those years before, and he was so proud of her. But she had, in her eagerness of being asked to recite, promised Diana and Jane that she would drive to the concert with them. She was bitterly regretful when he broached the subject to her and he chagrined because he had no viable excuse when Josie dropped embarrassingly obvious hints.
But, oh, how he recognized the look on Billy Andrews’ face when he came riding up with Anne at his side in the buggy. Anne’s discomfort was the only thing that allowed Gilbert to see any humor to the situation.
Still, he could not think of a lovelier picture than her standing upon that stage- the floaty, dreamy fabric of her gown contrasting starkly with the stuffed-up versions of the ladies he could see in that room. And her starry eyes met his for confidence before she launched into the greatest rendition he had heard yet. Not even Josie, to his right, could taint his pride.
After her encore, he took up the posies that he had stashed beneath his seat to Josie’s scornful gaze. Tactless, absolutely, but Gilbert found he did not care in the least. He found Anne surrounded by admirers, and he felt a rush of affection for this wonder when she excused herself from the group when she saw him, sans Josie for the moment, standing with the parcel of flowers.
“Carrots, you have no idea how amazing you are,” he said, offering the flowers to her. His smile faltered when he sparkling eyes bloomed with moisture and she shook her head quickly when she saw that she’d worried him.
“No, no,” she laughed, cracking halfway through the music, “you have no idea what it means that you are here and you liked the recitation.”
“You were, by far, the most captivating speaker.” Gilbert was insistent that she understand how well she did.
She shook her head, wiping under her eyes. “Thank you for saying so,” she deferred. “I-”
“Well, I just heard about how perfectly charming your performance was, Anne, really, especially for an orphan from the country,” Josie’s saccharine voice interrupted their bubble. “It was so brave of you to come after Mrs. Evans, after all, she was a professional and I don’t think anyone could have measured up coming after, but to come next. Well, we were just glad you didn’t forget the piece altogether.”
Gilbert could have gaped at her for the venom hiding behind the words.
Anne pulled in a deep a breath. “Well, fortunately I had so many dear friends in the audience. I was surprised you weren’t asked to speak for all your connections, Josie.”
Josie’s features pinched as a woman came to pull Anne away.
You would never had remembered Anne’s thrill for passing the exams when it came time to leave Avonlea.
The long awaited and long dreaded trip to Queens for their schooling had finally arrived, and it was all Anne could do to keep herself talking on the drive in to stave off the tears. Matthew was experiencing no small heart break himself at the inevitability of saying goodbye, even for so short a while, to his little girl.
Thank goodness for Gilbert, though. When they started their Second Year classes and found themselves surrounded by fifty unknowns, they found solace, definitely at first, in the presence of the other in the seat beside them.
She found herself grateful, still more, for Gilbert because he helped to shield the homesickness from pricking too deeply. Having a kindred spirit so close proved to be invaluable in keeping her spirits up.
She picnicked with Gilbert and the rest of the Avonlea folk, feasting on Marilla’s cake and the treats Amelia Blythe had sent along with Gilbert as well as the food bestowed upon the others by their own worried mamas.
They all found their way to Carmody together most weekends, and Anne and Gilbert most often separated from the group, often accompanied by Diana or some other, to wander at a leisurely, scenic pace towards Green Gables.
Though Anne was studying fiercely to earn the Avery Scholarship, she still found time to be social and she found more kindred spirits to be had. Fortunately, Gilbert thought, they were of the female variety. She had, of late, become more graceful and lovely and Anne-ish and he found the men of Queens had, indeed, taken notice of the beautiful, brilliant girl. Gilbert found himself rather fond of sweet Stella and Priscilla, although Stella was a good deal more observant than he would have preferred. He received more knowing looks and second glances than he was comfortable with from that one, due to her closeness to Anne.
As their time at Queens progressed, Anne found herself realizing that Gilbert had become a young man seemingly all at once. He towered over her, not threateningly, no, but just enough that she had to look up to see his expression. He had also, not all at once, because he had been a handsome boy, become a comely man. Anne, who hadn’t considered men objectively before, found herself startled by the realization that Gilbert’s chin (of all things!) was rather charming. Determinedly, Anne locked such thoughts away for a time where she could peruse them at her leisure.
Spring, which ought to have been fraught with tension due to the looming examinations, worked its magic through Anne and Gilbert, to the amusement and, frankly, irritation of their friends.
Often, they had to encourage the other to study with carrots, of the such, “one more chapter, and we can go get lost in the budding chestnuts.”
When Gilbert won the medal, Anne could scarcely contain her pleasure at his achievement, pressing a flippant kiss to his cheek without thought.
Anne’s receiving the Avery, though, had Gilbert crowing with the other students over her success (and, part, surely, to receiving a kiss from the girl in question) and Anne could have cried with happiness.
Commencement threw another obstacle Gilbert’s way, when he had to force his heart to restart after the vision Anne made in pale green- all shining, bright eyes, gloriously auburn, sparkling curls, and bright smiles.
Gilbert refused to be disappointed that he would not join her at Redmond- that would be a hurdle, definitely, but not so insurmountable as he might have thought, in his darkest hours. He had, as he’d hardly allowed himself to hope, begun to notice Anne’s odd little looks once in a while with the pucker that appeared in her brow when she examined him as though he were a completely new specimen.
The shocking devastation that accompanied Matthew’s death had Gilbert’s heart in his throat with distress for Anne. He found out soon after, Diana rushing to his parents’ home with the news. She was quaking with worry for Anne, who seemed pale, but dry eyed and shocked.
Gilbert found his way to Green Gables as quickly as he could. Marilla admitted him, sorrow painting the lines of her face. He paused in his mission to find Anne in order to take the woman’s hand in his and express his sincere condolences. The boy almost brought tears to Marilla’s eyes, though she thanked him with as much sincerity.
“Anne’s near the brook.”
His eyes thanked her as he moved to go find Anne. He stopped, observing the girl who seemed to droop since he’d last seen her just days before. “Oh, Anne,” he said aloud, his voice quiet but enough to reach her.
She was indeed, dry eyed when she looked over to him. The look of genuine empathy on his face broke her, though, and he rushed forward to catch her as she crumpled and a sob broke forth finally.
They sank to the ground and she cried against the crook of his shoulder and he smoothed her hair and held her close as though to keep the pieces from falling everywhere.
“He was so proud of you,” he found himself whispering. “He loved you so much, Anne. You saw him, Anne,” and other such things. An indeterminate amount of time passed before she cried herself out.
She stayed where she was, though, safe against him. He staved off the ache, however little he could. “Thank you,” she whispered finally. “He truly liked you, Gil.”
“I’m glad,” Gilbert chuckled a little wryly. “Would that I had known him better.”
“You knew him as well as someone out of Green Gables could,” she told him, sniffling.
“I’m so, truly sorry, Anne,” he told her.
“Thank you.” And she meant it. The sentiment didn’t sound empty crossing his lips.
Anne was entirely oblivious to the little stares that darted between she and Gilbert Blythe, who stood mere feet away- as close as custom would allow during a funeral. She had Marilla’s hand gripped within hers.
Marilla, though, was not oblivious at all. Gilbert had grown into a handsome man and Anne, her stylish, lovely Anne made a fine picture with him, she could begrudgingly admit. Unfortunately, she also had to allow there was nothing grudging about her acknowledging the two had likely been paired by Providence. She didn’t want to lose her girl, but, she now realized, Gilbert had sneaked in and claimed parts of Anne no one else could ever lay claim to. She had been able to view the way Gilbert drew her beyond her shock of Matthew’s death- Anne had truly begun to concern her.
Avonlea was largely thrilled with the prospect of the pair, with a few notably loud exceptions.
Those exceptions, fortunately, could be ignored as nuisances.
Before Marilla had opted to go to the doctor, Gilbert had quietly set up a fallback for Anne- just in case, he thought. He needed to know she was taken care of, regardless.
He couldn’t see Anne departing so soon after Matthew’s death, anyways.
He made Anne cry, to his horror, when he presented her with another option when she began prattling about writing for the Carmody school. She shook her head at the wide eyed look he gave her, clutching his hands in hers.
“You’re too good, Gilbert Blythe,” she managed between laughter laden sobs. “I feel as though I’ve been handed the world. And, oh, but I would love to talk you out of it.”
“I’m just as stubborn as you are,” he said, relieved by her joy. “And I’ve made up my mind. You’ll take Avonlea, and I’ll come home on some weekends- White Sands isn’t so far, really. ‘Sides, you’ll have to keep me on top of my game with our studies. We’ll take Redmond by storm eventually,” he promised.
And, oh, Anne was so overcome she heedlessly tossed her arms around him and planted a joyous kiss on his mouth without consideration of propriety or consequences.
Gilbert felt his heart leap, as it tended to do with this girl, regardless, and he cradled the back of her head as he returned her kiss, given without thought though it may have been.
Anne jerked back after a moment, her cheeks staining a deep red that thoroughly enchanted Gilbert.
“I’m so-” she gasped, bringing her hand to cover her lips, which were still tingling enough to muddle her thoughts.
“Don’t be sorry,” he pleaded, taking that hand and pressing a kiss to the back of it. “Don’t overthink it and please, Anne,” he continued, “don’t retreat. Talk to me. I understand if you want nothing to be said of it, but please don’t shut me out or pretend it didn’t happen.”
She considered him with wide, hectic eyes for a moment, taking in his dark eyes and the way they searched hers as though he were worried he may lose the most precious thing of his for her moment of recklessness.
All at once, pieces started fitting into place and she took in a sharp breath. She brought her free hand to her heart, trying to keep it from jumping from her chest with glee as she acknowledged that, perhaps, Gilbert was absolutely precious to her.
Gilbert experienced a more tangible hope than he ever dreamed he could so soon- he’d expected years of patience, but she wasn’t running, and the shine that was dawning in her eyes… Could it be?
“I don’t know when…” she trailed off, tilting her head as she looked at him. “Oh, but I’m so young.”
And cue the metaphorical leap with joy. “I was prepared to wait years,” he told her, clutching at her fingers. “And I have medical school to consider after we manage to get to college, as it is, so we really do have years.”
“I had an ideal,” she accused, furrowing her brow intensely. Waiting, with such an end, could be endurable.
He laughed, unable to contain his happiness at what she may be suggesting. “You’d have gotten bored of such a man in seconds flat, Anne-girl,” he informed her, matter of fact.
Her furrow melted away. “I need time to process,” she started tentatively.
He kissed her fingers again. “Take all the time you need,” he offered. “I can be patient. I will be patient. And if you decide that I’m not-”
“Don’t speak of silly things, Gil.”
And it was that off handed comment that would have given Gilbert hope for years to come, if it had been needed.
As it was, Anne found herself well in love with Gilbert before she knew she’d begun.