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.
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.