Anne's House of Dreams - Lucy Maud Montgomery (ebook reader macos .txt) š
- Author: Lucy Maud Montgomery
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āBy the way, I had a letter from Mr. Ford yesterday,ā said Anne. āHe asked me to remember him kindly to you.ā
āI donāt want his remembrances,ā said Miss Cornelia, curtly.
āWhy?ā said Anne, in astonishment. āI thought you liked him.ā
āWell, so I did, in a kind of way. But Iāll never forgive him for what he done to Leslie. Thereās that poor child eating her heart out about himāas if she hadnāt had trouble enoughāand him ranting round Toronto, Iāve no doubt, enjoying himself same as ever. Just like a man.ā
āOh, Miss Cornelia, how did you find out?ā
āLord, Anne, dearie, Iāve got eyes, havenāt I? And Iāve known Leslie since she was a baby . Thereās been a new kind of heartbreak in her eyes all the fall, and I know that writer-man was behind it somehow. Iāll never forgive myself for being the means of bringing him here. But I never expected heād be like he was. I thought heād just be like the other men Leslie had boardedāconceited young asses, every one of them, that she never had any use for. One of them did try to flirt with her once and she froze him outāso bad, I feel sure heās never got himself thawed since. So I never thought of any danger.ā
āDonāt let Leslie suspect you know her secret,ā said Anne hurriedly. āI think it would hurt her.ā
āTrust me, Anne, dearie. I wasnāt born yesterday. Oh, a plague on all the men! One of them ruined Leslieās life to begin with, and now another of the tribe comes and makes her still more wretched. Anne, this world is an awful place, believe me.ā
āThereās something in the world amiss Will be unriddled by and by,ā
quoted Anne dreamily.
āIf it is, itāll be in a world where there arenāt any men,ā said Miss Cornelia gloomily.
āWhat have the men been doing now?ā asked Gilbert, entering.
āMischiefāmischief! What else did they ever do?ā
āIt was Eve ate the apple, Miss Cornelia.ā
ā āTwas a he-creature tempted her,ā retorted Miss Cornelia triumphantly.
Leslie, after her first anguish was over, found it possible to go on with life after all, as most of us do, no matter what our particular form of torment has been. It is even possible that she enjoyed moments of it, when she was one of the gay circle in the little house of dreams. But if Anne ever hoped that she was forgetting Owen Ford she would have been undeceived by the furtive hunger in Leslieās eyes whenever his name was mentioned. Pitiful to that hunger, Anne always contrived to tell Captain Jim or Gilbert bits of news from Owenās letters when Leslie was with them. The girlās flush and pallor at such moments spoke all too eloquently of the emotion that filled her being. But she never spoke of him to Anne, or mentioned that night on the sandbar.
One day her old dog died and she grieved bitterly over him.
āHeās been my friend so long,ā she said sorrowfully to Anne. āHe was Dickās old dog, you knowāDick had him for a year or so before we were married. He left him with me when he sailed on the Four Sisters. Carlo got very fond of meāand his dog-love helped me through that first dreadful year after mother died, when I was alone. When I heard that Dick was coming back I was afraid Carlo wouldnāt be so much mine. But he never seemed to care for Dick, though he had been so fond of him once. He would snap and growl at him as if he were a stranger. I was glad. It was nice to have one thing whose love was all mine. That old dog has been such a comfort to me, Anne. He got so feeble in the fall that I was afraid he couldnāt live longābut I hoped I could nurse him through the winter. He seemed pretty well this morning. He was lying on the rug before the fire; then, all at once, he got up and crept over to me; he put his head on my lap and gave me one loving look out of his big, soft, dog eyesāand then he just shivered and died. I shall miss him so.ā
āLet me give you another dog, Leslie,ā said Anne . āIām getting a lovely Gordon setter for a Christmas present for Gilbert. Let me give you one too.ā
Leslie shook her head.
āNot just now, thank you, Anne. I donāt feel like having another dog yet. I donāt seem to have any affection left for another. Perhapsāin timeāIāll let you give me one. I really need one as a kind of protection. But there was something almost human about Carloā it wouldnāt be DECENT to fill his place too hurriedly, dear old fellow .ā
Anne went to Avonlea a week before Christmas and stayed until after the holidays. Gilbert came up for her, and there was a glad New Year celebration at Green Gables, when Barrys and Blythes and Wrights assembled to devour a dinner which had cost Mrs. Rachel and Marilla much careful thought and preparation. When they went back to Four Winds the little house was almost drifted over, for the third storm of a winter that was to prove phenomenally stormy had whirled up the harbor and heaped huge snow mountains about everything it encountered. But Captain Jim had shovelled out doors and paths, and Miss Cornelia had come down and kindled the hearth-fire.
āItās good to see you back, Anne, dearie! But did you ever see such drifts? You canāt see the Moore place at all unless you go upstairs. Leslieāll be so glad youāre back. Sheās almost buried alive over there. Fortunately Dick can shovel snow, and thinks itās great fun. Susan sent me word to tell you she would be on hand tomorrow. Where are you off to now, Captain?ā
āI reckon Iāll plough up to the Glen and sit a bit with old Martin Strong. Heās not far from his end and heās lonesome. He hasnāt many friendsābeen too busy all his life to make any. Heās made heaps of money, though.ā
āWell, he thought that since he couldnāt serve God and Mammon heād better stick to Mammon,ā said Miss Cornelia crisply. āSo he shouldnāt complain if he doesnāt find Mammon very good company now.ā
Captain Jim went out, but remembered something in the yard and turned back for a moment.
āIād a letter from Mr. Ford, Mistress Blythe, and he says the life-book is accepted and is going to be published next fall. I felt fair uplifted when I got the news. To think that Iām to see it in print at last.ā
āThat man is clean crazy on the subject of his life-book,ā said Miss Cornelia compassionately. āFor my part, I think thereās far too many books in the world now.ā
Gilbert laid down the ponderous medical tome over which he had been poring until the increasing dusk of the March evening made him desist. He leaned back in his chair and gazed meditatively out of the window. It was early springāprobably the ugliest time of the year. Not even the sunset could redeem the dead, sodden landscape and rotten black harbor ice upon which he looked. No sign of life was visible, save a big black crow winging his solitary way across a leaden field. Gilbert speculated idly concerning that crow. Was he a family crow, with a black but comely crow wife awaiting him in the woods beyond the Glen? Or was he a glossy young buck of a crow on courting thoughts intent? Or was he a cynical bachelor crow, believing that he travels the fastest who travels alone? Whatever he was, he soon disappeared in congenial gloom and Gilbert turned to the cheerier view indoors.
The firelight flickered from point to point, gleaming on the white and green coats of Gog and Magog, on the sleek, brown head of the beautiful setter basking on the rug, on the picture frames on the walls, on the vaseful of daffodils from the window garden, on Anne herself, sitting by her little table, with her sewing beside her and her hands clasped over her knee while she traced out pictures in the fireāCastles in Spain whose airy turrets pierced moonlit cloud and sunset bar-ships sailing from the Haven of Good Hopes straight to Four Winds Harbor with precious burthen. For Anne was again a dreamer of dreams, albeit a grim shape of fear went with her night and day to shadow and darken her visions.
Gilbert was accustomed to refer to himself as āan old married man.ā But he still looked upon Anne with the incredulous eyes of a lover. He couldnāt wholly believe yet that she was really his. It MIGHT be only a dream after all, part and parcel of this magic house of dreams. His soul still went on tip-toe before her, lest the charm be shattered and the dream dispelled.
āAnne,ā he said slowly, ālend me your ears. I want to talk with you about something.ā
Anne looked across at him through the firelit gloom.
āWhat is it?ā she asked gaily. āYou look fearfully solemn, Gilbert. I really havenāt done anything naughty today. Ask Susan.ā
āItās not of youāor ourselvesāI want to talk. Itās about Dick Moore.ā
āDick Moore?ā echoed Anne, sitting up alertly. āWhy, what in the world have you to say about Dick Moore?ā
āIāve been thinking a great deal about him lately. Do you remember that time last summer I treated him for those carbuncles on his neck?ā
āYesāyes.ā
ā I took the opportunity to examine the scars on his head thoroughly. Iāve always thought Dick was a very interesting case from a medical point of view. Lately Iāve been studying the history of trephining and the cases where it has been employed. Anne, I have come to the conclusion that if Dick Moore were taken to a good hospital and the operation of trephining performed on several places in his skull, his memory and faculties might be restored.ā
āGilbert!ā Anneās voice was full of protest. āSurely you
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