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"You'll
have to learn to resist the fascination of Idlewhatever- you-call-it.
When I tell you to come in at a certain time I mean that time and not
half an hour later. And you
needn't stop to discourse with sympathetic listeners on your way, either. As
for the picnic, of course you can go. You're
a Sunday-school scholar, and it's not likely I'd refuse to let you go when
all the other little girls are going."
"But--but,"
faltered Anne, "Diana says that everybody must take a basket of things
to eat. I can't cook, as you
know, Marilla, and--and--I don't mind going to a picnic without puffed
sleeves so much, but I'd feel terribly humiliated if I had to go without a
basket. It's been preying on my
mind ever since Diana told me."
"Well,
it needn't prey any longer. I'll
bake you a basket."
"Oh,
you dear good Marilla. Oh, you
are so kind to me. Oh, I'm so
much obliged to you."
Getting
through with her "ohs" Anne cast herself into Marilla's arms and
rapturously kissed her sallow cheek. It
was the first time in her whole life that childish lips had voluntarily
touched Marilla's face. Again that sudden sensation of startling sweetness thrilled
her. She was secretly vastly
pleased at Anne's impulsive caress, which was probably the reason why she
said brusquely:
"There,
there, never mind your kissing nonsense.
I'd sooner see you doing strictly as you're told.
As for cooking, I mean to begin giving you lessons in that some of
these days. But you're so
featherbrained, Anne, I've been waiting to see if you'd sober down a little
and learn to be steady before I begin.
You've got to keep your wits about you in cooking and not stop in the
middle of things to let your thoughts rove all over creation.
Now, get out your patchwork and have your square done before
teatime."
"I
do NOT like patchwork," said Anne dolefully, hunting out her workbasket
and sitting down before a little heap of red and white diamonds with a sigh.
"I think some kinds of sewing would be nice; but there's no
scope for imagination in patchwork. It's
just one little seam after another and you never seem to be getting
anywhere. But of course I'd
rather be Anne of Green Gables sewing patchwork than Anne of any other place
with nothing to do but play. I
wish time went as quick sewing patches as it does when I'm playing with
Diana, though. Oh, we do have
such elegant times, Marilla. I
have to furnish most of the imagination, but I'm well able to do that.
Diana is simply perfect in every other way. You know that little piece of land across the brook that runs
up between our farm and Mr. Barry's. It belongs to Mr. William Bell, and
right in the corner there is a little ring of white birch trees--the most
romantic spot, Marilla. Diana
and I have our playhouse there. We
call it Idlewild. Isn't that a
poetical name? I assure you it
took me some time to think it out. I
stayed awake nearly a whole night before I invented it.
Then, just as I was dropping off to sleep, it came like an
inspiration. Diana was
ENRAPTURED when she heard it. We
have got our house fixed up elegantly.
You must come and see it, Marilla--won't you?
We have great big stones, all covered with moss, for seats, and
boards from tree to tree for shelves. And
we have all our dishes on them. Of
course, they're all broken but it's the easiest thing in the world to
imagine that they are whole. There's
a piece of a plate with a spray of red and yellow ivy on it that is
especially beautiful. We keep
it in the parlor and we have the fairy glass there, too.
The fairy glass is as lovely as a dream.
Diana found it out in the woods behind their chicken house.
It's all full of rainbows--just little young rainbows that haven't
grown big yet--and Diana's mother told her it was broken off a hanging lamp
they once had. But it's nice to
imagine the fairies lost it one night when they had a ball, so we call it
the fairy glass. Matthew is going to make us a table.
Oh, we have named that little round pool over in Mr. Barry's field
Willowmere. I got that name out
of the book Diana lent me. That
was a thrilling book, Marilla. The
heroine had five lovers. I'd be
satisfied with one, wouldn't you? She
was very handsome and she went through great tribulations.
She could faint as easy as anything. I'd love to be able to faint,
wouldn't you, Marilla? It's so
romantic. But I'm really very
healthy for all I'm so thin. I believe I'm getting fatter, though.
Don't you think I am? I look at my elbows every morning when I get up
to see if any dimples are coming. Diana
is having a new dress made with elbow sleeves.
She is going to wear it to the picnic.
Oh, I do hope it will be fine next Wednesday.
I don't feel that I could endure the disappointment if anything
happened to prevent me from getting to the picnic.
I suppose I'd live through it, but I'm certain it would be a lifelong
sorrow. It wouldn't matter if I
got to a hundred picnics in after years; they wouldn't make up for missing
this one. They're going to have
boats on the Lake of Shining Waters--and ice cream, as I told you.
I have never tasted ice cream. Diana
tried to explain what it was like, but I guess ice cream is one of those
things that are beyond imagination."
"Anne,
you have talked even on for ten minutes by the clock," said Marilla.
"Now, just for curiosity's sake, see if you can hold your tongue
for the same length of time."
Anne
held her tongue as desired. But
for the rest of the week she talked picnic and thought picnic and dreamed
picnic. On Saturday it rained
and she worked herself up into such a frantic state lest it should keep on
raining until and over Wednesday that Marilla made her sew an extra
patchwork square by way of steadying her nerves.
On
Sunday Anne confided to Marilla on the way home from church that she grew
actually cold all over with excitement when the minister announced the
picnic from the pulpit.
"Such
a thrill as went up and down my back, Marilla!
I don't think I'd ever really believed until then that there was
honestly going to be a picnic. I
couldn't help fearing I'd only imagined it. But when a minister says a thing
in the pulpit you just have to believe it."
"You
set your heart too much on things, Anne," said Marilla, with a sigh.
"I'm afraid there'll be a great many disappointments in store
for you through life."
"Oh,
Marilla, looking forward to things is half the pleasure of them,"
exclaimed Anne. "You
mayn't get the things themselves; but nothing can prevent you from having
the fun of looking forward to them. Mrs. Lynde says, `Blessed are they who expect nothing for
they shall not be disappointed.' But I think it would be worse to expect
nothing than to be disappointed."
Marilla
wore her amethyst brooch to church that day as usual. Marilla always wore
her amethyst brooch to church. She
would have thought it rather sacrilegious to leave it off--as bad as
forgetting her Bible or her collection dime.
That amethyst brooch was Marilla's most treasured possession.
A seafaring uncle had given it to her mother who in turn had
bequeathed it to Marilla. It
was an old-fashioned oval, containing a braid of her mother's hair,
surrounded by a border of very fine amethysts. Marilla knew too little about
precious stones to realize how fine the amethysts actually were; but she
thought them very beautiful and was always pleasantly conscious of their
violet shimmer at her throat, above her good brown satin dress, even
although she could not see it.
Anne
had been smitten with delighted admiration when she first saw that brooch.
"Oh,
Marilla, it's a perfectly elegant brooch.
I don't know how you can pay attention to the sermon or the prayers
when you have it on. I
couldn't, I know. I think
amethysts are just sweet. They are what I used to think diamonds were like.
Long ago, before I had ever seen a diamond, I read about them and I
tried to imagine what they would be like.
I thought they would be lovely glimmering purple stones.
When I saw a real diamond in a lady's ring one day I was so
disappointed I cried. Of
course, it was very lovely but it wasn't my idea of a diamond.
Will you let me hold the brooch for one minute, Marilla?
Do you think amethysts can be the souls of good violets?"
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