Anne of Green Gables By Lucy Maud Montgomery

　One afternoon,/Marilla came slowly in/from the front yard/where she had been talking to a caller.//
　“What did that man want,/Marilla?”//
　Marilla sat down by the window/and looked at Anne.// There were tears in her eyes/and her voice broke/as she said:/
　“He heard/that I was going to sell Green Gables,/and he wants to buy it.”//
　“Buy it!// Buy Green Gables?”// Anne wondered/if she had heard aright.// “Oh, Marilla,/you don’t mean to sell Green Gables!”//
　“Anne,/I don’t know/what else is to be done.// I’ve thought it all over.// If my eyes were strong,/I could stay here and make out/to look after things and manage,/with a good hired man.// But as it is,/I can’t.// I may lose my sight altogether;/and anyway,/I’ll not be healthy to run things.// Oh, I never thought/I’d live to see the day/when I’d have to sell my home.// But things would only go worse and worse/all the time.// If it would be sold,/it won’t bring much.// The land is small,/and the buildings are old.// But it’ll be enough for me/to live on,/I reckon.// I’m thankful/you’re provided with that scholarship,/Anne.// I’m sorry/you won’t have a home/to come back in your vacations,/that’s all I’m worried about,/but I suppose/you’ll manage somehow.”//
　Marilla broke down and wept bitterly.//
　“You mustn’t sell Green Gables,”/said Anne decisively.//
　“Oh, Anne,/I wish I didn’t have to.// But you can see for yourself.// I can’t stay here alone.// I’d go crazy/with trouble and loneliness.// And my sight would go/— I know it would.”//

　“You won’t have to stay here alone,/Marilla.// I’ll be with you.// I’m not going to Redmond University.”//
　“Not going to Redmond!”// Marilla lifted her worn face/from her hands/and looked at Anne.// “Why,/what do you mean?”//
　“Just what I say.// I’m not going to take the scholarship.// I decided so/the night after you came home/from the hospital.// You surely don’t think/I could leave you alone in your trouble,/Marilla,/after all you’ve done for me.// I’ve been thinking and planning.// Let me tell you my plans.// Mr. Barry wants to rent the farm/for next year.// So/you won’t have any bother over that.// And I’m going to teach.// I’ve applied for the Carmody School/and was accepted.// But the school was a bit far from here.// Then/I found out/that Gilbert Blythe has kindly decided/to let me teach at the Avonlea School/in our neighborhood.// So/I can live with you.// Oh, I have it all planned out,/Marilla.// And I’ll read to you/and keep you cheered up.// You shall not be dull or lonesome.// And we’ll be real cozy and happy/here together,/you and I.”//
　Marilla had listened/like a woman in a dream.//
　“Oh, Anne,/I could get on real well/if you were here,/I know.// But I can’t let you sacrifice yourself/so much for me.// It would be terrible.”//

　“Nonsense!”// Anne laughed merrily.// “There is no sacrifice.// Nothing could be worse/than giving up Green Gables/— nothing could hurt me more.// We must keep the dear old place.// My mind is quite made up,/Marilla.// I’m not  going to Redmond;/and I am  going to stay here and teach.// Don’t worry about me a bit.”//
　“But your ambitions and ....”//
　“I’m just as ambitious as ever.// Only,/I’ve changed the object of my ambitions.// I’m going to be a good teacher,/and I’m going to save your eyesight.// Besides,/I mean to study at home here/and take a little college course/all by myself.// Oh, I’ve dozens of plans,/Marilla.// I’ve been thinking them out/for a week.// I shall give life here my best,/and I believe/it will give its best to me/in return.// When I left Queen’s Academy,/my future seemed to stretch out before me/like a straight road.// I thought/I could see many milestones along it.// Now there is a bend in it.// I don’t know/what lies around the bend,/but I’m going to believe/that the best does.// It has a fascination of its own,/that bend, Marilla.// I wonder/how the road beyond it goes.”//

　“I don’t want to let you give it up,”/said Marilla,/referring to the scholarship.//
　“But you can’t prevent me.// I’m sixteen and a half,/‘obstinate as a mule,’/as Mrs. Lynde once told me,”/laughed Anne.//
　“Oh, Marilla,/don’t you go pitying me.// I don’t like to be pitied,/and there is no need for it.// I’m glad over the very thought/of staying at dear Green Gables.// Nobody could love it/as you and I do,/so we must keep it.”//
　“You blessed girl!”/said Marilla, yielding.// “I feel/as if you’d given me new life.// I guess/I ought to stick out/and make you go to college —/but I know I can’t,/so I’m not going to try.// I’ll make it up to you though,/Anne.”//
　A light flashed in the window/at Orchard Slope,/Diana’s house near Green Gables.//
　“Diana is signaling for me/to come over,”/laughed Anne.// “You know/we keep up the old custom/since we were young.// Excuse me/while I run over/and see what she wants.”//
　Anne ran down the hill like a deer/and disappeared in the firry shadows/of the Haunted Wood.//
　“Dear old world,”/she murmured,/“you are very lovely,/and I am glad to be alive in you.”//

　The following day,/on her way back from Matthew’s grave,/Anne came across a tall lad whistling.// It was Gilbert,/and the whistle died on his lips/as he recognized Anne.// He lifted his cap courteously,/but he would have passed on/in silence,/if Anne had not stopped/and held out her hand.//
　“Gilbert,”/she said,/with scarlet cheeks,/“I want to thank you/for giving up the school for me.// It was very kind of you,/and I want you to know/that I appreciate it.”//
　Gilbert took the offered hand eagerly.//
　“It wasn’t particularly kind of me at all,/Anne.// I was pleased to be able to do you/some small service.// Are we going to be friends/after this?// Have you really forgiven me/my old fault?”//
　Anne laughed/and tried unsuccessfully to withdraw her hand.//
　“I forgave you that day/by the pond landing,/although I didn’t know it.// What a stubborn little goose/I was.// I may as well make a complete confession.// I’ve been sorry ever since.”//
　“We are going to be the best of friends,”/said Gilbert,/joyfully.// “We were born to be good friends,/Anne.// I know we can help each other/in many ways.// You are going to keep up your studies,/aren’t you?// So am I.// Come,/I’m going to walk home with you.”//

　Marilla looked curiously at Anne/when she entered the kitchen.//
　“Who was that/who came up the lane with you,/Anne?”// “Gilbert Blythe,”/answered Anne,/who found herself blushing.// “I met him on Barry’s hill.”//
　“I didn’t think/you and Gilbert Blythe were such good friends/that you’d stand for half an hour/at the gate talking to him,”/said Marilla/with a dry smile.//
　“We haven’t been good friends,/rather we’ve been good enemies.// But/we have decided/that it will be much more sensible/to be good friends/in the future.// Were we really there/half an hour?// It seemed just a few minutes.// But, you see,/we have five years’ lost conversations/to catch up with, Marilla.”//

　Anne sat long at her window that night/companioned by a glad content.// The wind blew softly/in the cherry branches,/and the smell of mint came up to her.// The stars twinkled over the pointed firs.//
　Anne’s horizons had closed in/since the night she had sat there/after coming home from Queen’s Academy;/but if the path set before her feet/was to be narrow,/she knew/that flowers of quiet happiness/would bloom along it.// And there was always the bend in the road!//

　“‘God’s in his heaven,/all’s right with the world,’”/whispered Anne softly.//