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"Oh,
and dream in too, Marilla. And
you know one can dream so much better in a room where there are pretty
things. I'm going to put these
boughs in the old blue jug and set them on my table."
"Mind
you don't drop leaves all over the stairs then.
I'm going on a meeting of the Aid Society at Carmody this afternoon,
Anne, and I won't likely be home before dark.
You'll have to get Matthew and Jerry their supper, so mind you don't
forget to put the tea to draw until you sit down at the table as you did
last time."
"It
was dreadful of me to forget," said Anne apologetically, "but that
was the afternoon I was trying to think of a name for Violet Vale and it
crowded other things out. Matthew
was so good. He never scolded a
bit. He put the tea down
himself and said we could wait awhile as well as not.
And I told him a lovely fairy story while we were waiting, so he
didn't find the time long at all. It
was a beautiful fairy story, Marilla. I
forgot the end of it, so I made up an end for it myself and Matthew said he
couldn't tell where the join came in."
"Matthew
would think it all right, Anne, if you took a notion to get up and have
dinner in the middle of the night. But
you keep your wits about you this time.
And--I don't really know if I'm doing right--it may make you more
addlepated than ever--but you can ask Diana to come over and spend the
afternoon with you and have tea here."
"Oh,
Marilla!" Anne clasped her hands.
"How perfectly lovely! You ARE able to imagine things after all
or else you'd never have understood how I've longed for that very thing.
It will seem so nice and grown-uppish.
No fear of my forgetting to put the tea to draw when I have company.
Oh, Marilla, can I use the rosebud spray tea set?"
"No,
indeed! The rosebud tea set! Well, what next?
You know I never use that except for the minister or the Aids.
You'll put down the old brown tea set.
But you can open the little yellow crock of cherry preserves. It's time it was being used anyhow--I believe it's beginning
to work. And you can cut some
fruit cake and have some of the cookies and snaps."
"I
can just imagine myself sitting down at the head of the table and pouring
out the tea," said Anne, shutting her eyes ecstatically.
"And asking Diana if she takes sugar! I know she doesn't but of
course I'll ask her just as if I didn't know.
And then pressing her to take another piece of fruit cake and another
helping of preserves. Oh,
Marilla, it's a wonderful sensation just to think of it.
Can I take her into the spare room to lay off her hat when she comes?
And then into the parlor to sit?"
"No.
The sitting room will do for you and your company.
But there's a bottle half full of raspberry cordial that was left
over from the church social the other night.
It's on the second shelf of the sitting-room closet and you and Diana
can have it if you like, and a cooky to eat with it along in the afternoon,
for I daresay Matthew'll be late coming in to tea since he's hauling
potatoes to the vessel."
Anne
flew down to the hollow, past the Dryad's Bubble and up the spruce path to
Orchard Slope, to ask Diana to tea. As
a result just after Marilla had driven off to Carmody, Diana came over,
dressed in HER second-best dress and looking exactly as it is proper to look
when asked out to tea. At other
times she was wont to run into the kitchen without knocking; but now she
knocked primly at the front door. And
when Anne, dressed in her second best, as primly opened it, both little
girls shook hands as gravely as if they had never met before.
This unnatural solemnity lasted until after Diana had been taken to
the east gable to lay off her hat and then had sat for ten minutes in the
sitting room, toes in position.
"How
is your mother?" inquired Anne politely, just as if she had not seen
Mrs. Barry picking apples that morning in excellent health and spirits.
"She
is very well, thank you. I
suppose Mr. Cuthbert is hauling potatoes to the LILY SANDS this afternoon,
is he?" said Diana, who had ridden down to Mr. Harmon Andrews's that
morning in Matthew's cart.
"Yes.
Our potato crop is very good this year.
I hope your father's crop is good too."
"It
is fairly good, thank you. Have
you picked many of your apples yet?"
"Oh,
ever so many," said Anne forgetting to be dignified and jumping up
quickly. "Let's go out to
the orchard and get some of the Red Sweetings, Diana.
Marilla says we can have all that are left on the tree.
Marilla is a very generous woman.
She said we could have fruit cake and cherry preserves for tea.
But it isn't good manners to tell your company what you are going to
give them to eat, so I won't tell you what she said we could have to drink.
Only it begins with an R and a C and it's bright red color.
I love bright red drinks, don't you?
They taste twice as good as any other color."
The
orchard, with its great sweeping boughs that bent to the ground with fruit,
proved so delightful that the little girls spent most of the afternoon in
it, sitting in a grassy corner where the frost had spared the green and the
mellow autumn sunshine lingered warmly, eating apples and talking as hard as
they could. Diana had much to
tell Anne of what went on in school. She
had to sit with Gertie Pye and she hated it; Gertie squeaked her pencil all
the time and it just made her--Diana's--blood run cold; Ruby Gillis had
charmed all her warts away, true's you live, with a magic pebble that old
Mary Joe from the Creek gave her. You
had to rub the warts with the pebble and then throw it away over your left
shoulder at the time of the new moon and the warts would all go.
Charlie Sloane's name was written up with Em White's on the porch
wall and Em White was AWFUL MAD about it; Sam Boulter had "sassed"
Mr. Phillips in class and Mr. Phillips whipped him and Sam's father came
down to the school and dared Mr. Phillips to lay a hand on one of his
children again; and Mattie Andrews had a new red hood and a blue crossover
with tassels on it and the airs she put on about it were perfectly
sickening; and Lizzie Wright didn't speak to Mamie Wilson because Mamie
Wilson's grown-up sister had cut out Lizzie Wright's grown-up sister with
her beau; and everybody missed Anne so and wished she's come to school
again; and Gilbert Blythe--
But
Anne didn't want to hear about Gilbert Blythe.
She jumped up hurriedly and said suppose they go in and have some
raspberry cordial.
Anne
looked on the second shelf of the room pantry but there was no bottle of
raspberry cordial there . Search revealed it away back on the top shelf.
Anne put it on a tray and set it on the table with a tumbler.
"Now,
please help yourself, Diana," she said politely.
"I don't believe I'll have any just now.
I don't feel as if I wanted any after all those apples."
Diana
poured herself out a tumblerful, looked at its bright-red hue admiringly,
and then sipped it daintily.
"That's
awfully nice raspberry cordial, Anne," she said.
"I didn't know raspberry cordial was so nice."
"I'm
real glad you like it. Take as
much as you want. I'm going to
run out and stir the fire up. There
are so many responsibilities on a person's mind when they're keeping house,
isn't there?"
When
Anne came back from the kitchen Diana was drinking her second glassful of
cordial; and, being entreated thereto by Anne, she offered no particular
objection to the drinking of a third. The tumblerfuls were generous ones and
the raspberry cordial was certainly very nice.
"The
nicest I ever drank," said Diana.
"It's ever so much nicer than Mrs. Lynde's, although she brags
of hers so much. It doesn't
taste a bit like hers."
"I
should think Marilla's raspberry cordial would prob'ly be much nicer than
Mrs. Lynde's," said Anne loyally.
"Marilla is a famous cook.
She is trying to teach me to cook but I assure you, Diana, it is
uphill work. There's so little
scope for imagination in cookery. You
just have to go by rules. The
last time I made a cake I forgot to put the flour in.
I was thinking the loveliest story about you and me, Diana.
I thought you were desperately ill with smallpox and everybody
deserted you, but I went boldly to your bedside and nursed you back to life;
and then I took the smallpox and died and I was buried under those poplar
trees in the graveyard and you planted a rosebush by my grave and watered it
with your tears; and you never, never forgot the friend of your youth who
sacrificed her life for you. Oh,
it was such a pathetic tale, Diana. The
tears just rained down over my cheeks while I mixed the cake. But I forgot the flour and the cake was a dismal failure.
Flour is so essential to cakes, you know.
Marilla was very cross and I don't wonder.
I'm a great trial to her. She
was terribly mortified about the pudding sauce last week.
We had a plum pudding for dinner on Tuesday and there was half the
pudding and a pitcherful of sauce left over. Marilla said there was enough
for another dinner and told me to set it on the pantry shelf and cover it.
I meant to cover it just as much as could be, Diana, but when I
carried it in I was imagining I was a nun--of course I'm a Protestant but I
imagined I was a Catholic--taking the veil to bury a broken heart in
cloistered seclusion; and I forgot all about covering the pudding sauce.
I thought of it next morning and ran to the pantry. Diana, fancy if
you can my extreme horror at finding a mouse drowned in that pudding sauce!
I lifted the mouse out with a spoon and threw it out in the yard and then I
washed the spoon in three waters. Marilla
was out milking and I fully intended to ask her when she came in if I'd give
the sauce to the pigs; but when she did come in I was imagining that I was a
frost fairy going through the woods turning the trees red and yellow,
whichever they wanted to be, so I never thought about the pudding sauce
again and Marilla sent me out to pick apples. Well, Mr. and Mrs. Chester
Ross from Spencervale came here that morning.
You know they are very stylish people, especially Mrs. Chester Ross.
When Marilla called me in dinner was all ready and everybody was at
the table. I tried to be as
polite and dignified as I could be, for I wanted Mrs. Chester Ross to think
I was a ladylike little girl even if I wasn't pretty.
Everything went right until I saw Marilla coming with the plum
pudding in one hand and the pitcher of pudding sauce WARMED UP, in the
other. Diana, that was a terrible moment.
I remembered everything and I just stood up in my place and shrieked
out `Marilla, you mustn't use that pudding sauce.
There was a mouse drowned in it.
I forgot to tell you before.' Oh, Diana, I shall never forget that
awful moment if I live to be a hundred.
Mrs. Chester Ross just LOOKED at me and I thought I would sink
through the floor with mortification. She
is such a perfect housekeeper and fancy what she must have thought of us.
Marilla turned red as fire but she never said a word--then.
She just carried that sauce and pudding out and brought in some
strawberry preserves. She even
offered me some, but I couldn't swallow a mouthful.
It was like heaping coals of fire on my head.
After Mrs. Chester Ross went away, Marilla gave me a dreadful
scolding. Why, Diana, what is
the matter?"
Diana
had stood up very unsteadily; then she sat down again, putting her hands to
her head.
"I'm--I'm
awful sick," she said, a little thickly.
"I--I--must go right home."
"Oh,
you mustn't dream of going home without your tea," cried Anne in
distress. "I'll get it
right off--I'll go and put the tea down this very minute."
"I
must go home," repeated Diana, stupidly but determinedly.
"Let
me get you a lunch anyhow," implored Anne.
"Let me give you a bit of fruit cake and some of the cherry
preserves. Lie down on the sofa
for a little while and you'll be better.
Where do you feel bad?"
"I
must go home," said Diana, and that was all she would say.
In vain Anne pleaded.
"I
never heard of company going home without tea," she mourned. "Oh,
Diana, do you suppose that it's possible you're really taking the smallpox?
If you are I'll go and nurse you, you can depend on that.
I'll never forsake you. But
I do wish you'd stay till after tea. Where
do you feel bad?"
"I'm
awful dizzy," said Diana.
And
indeed, she walked very dizzily. Anne,
with tears of disappointment in her eyes, got Diana's hat and went with her
as far as the Barry yard fence. Then
she wept all the way back to Green Gables, where she sorrowfully put the
remainder of the raspberry cordial back into the pantry and got tea ready
for Matthew and Jerry, with all the zest gone out of the performance.
The
next day was Sunday and as the rain poured down in torrents from dawn till
dusk Anne did not stir abroad from Green Gables. Monday afternoon Marilla
sent her down to Mrs. Lynde's on an errand.
In a very short space of time Anne came flying back up the lane with
tears rolling down her cheeks. Into
the kitchen she dashed and flung herself face downward on the sofa in an
agony.
"Whatever
has gone wrong now, Anne?" queried Marilla in doubt and dismay.
"I do hope you haven't gone and been saucy to Mrs. Lynde
again."
No
answer from Anne save more tears and stormier sobs!
"Anne
Shirley, when I ask you a question I want to be answered. Sit right up this
very minute and tell me what you are crying about."
Anne
sat up, tragedy personified.
"Mrs.
Lynde was up to see Mrs. Barry today and Mrs. Barry was in an awful
state," she wailed. "She says that I set Diana DRUNK Saturday and sent her
home in a disgraceful condition. And
she says I must be a thoroughly bad, wicked little girl and she's never,
never going to let Diana play with me again.
Oh, Marilla, I'm just overcome with woe."
Marilla
stared in blank amazement.
"Set
Diana drunk!" she said when she found her voice.
"Anne are you or Mrs. Barry crazy?
What on earth did you give her?"
"Not
a thing but raspberry cordial," sobbed Anne.
"I never thought raspberry cordial would set people drunk,
Marilla--not even if they drank three big tumblerfuls as Diana did.
Oh, it sounds so--so--like Mrs. Thomas's husband! But I didn't mean
to set her drunk."
"Drunk
fiddlesticks!" said Marilla, marching to the sitting room pantry.
There on the shelf was a bottle which she at once recognized as one
containing some of her three-year-old homemade currant wine for which she
was celebrated in Avonlea, although certain of the stricter sort, Mrs. Barry
among them, disapproved strongly of it.
And at the same time Marilla recollected that she had put the bottle
of raspberry cordial down in the cellar instead of in the pantry as she had
told Anne.
She
went back to the kitchen with the wine bottle in her hand. Her face was
twitching in spite of herself.
"Anne,
you certainly have a genius for getting into trouble.
You went and gave Diana currant wine instead of raspberry cordial.
Didn't you know the difference yourself?"
"I
never tasted it," said Anne. "I
thought it was the cordial. I meant to be so--so--hospitable.
Diana got awfully sick and had to go home.
Mrs. Barry told Mrs. Lynde she was simply dead drunk. She just laughed silly-like when her mother asked her what
was the matter and went to sleep and slept for hours. Her mother smelled her breath and knew she was drunk.
She had a fearful headache all day yesterday.
Mrs. Barry is so indignant. She will never believe but what I did it
on purpose."
"I
should think she would better punish Diana for being so greedy as to drink
three glassfuls of anything," said Marilla shortly. "Why, three of
those big glasses would have made her sick even if it had only been cordial.
Well, this story will be a nice handle for those folks who are so
down on me for making currant wine, although I haven't made any for three
years ever since I found out that the minister didn't approve.
I just kept that bottle for sickness.
There, there, child, don't cry.
I can't see as you were to blame although I'm sorry it happened
so."
"I
must cry," said Anne. "My
heart is broken. The stars in
their courses fight against me, Marilla.
Diana and I are parted forever. Oh, Marilla, I little dreamed of this
when first we swore our vows of friendship."
"Don't
be foolish, Anne. Mrs. Barry
will think better of it when she finds you're not to blame.
I suppose she thinks you've done it for a silly joke or something of
that sort. You'd best go up
this evening and tell her how it was."
"My
courage fails me at the thought of facing Diana's injured mother,"
sighed Anne. "I wish you'd
go, Marilla. You're so much
more dignified than I am. Likely she'd listen to you quicker than to me."
"Well,
I will," said Marilla, reflecting that it would probably be the wiser
course. "Don't cry any
more, Anne. It will be all
right."
Marilla
had changed her mind about it being all right by the time she got back from
Orchard Slope. Anne was watching for her coming and flew to the porch door
to meet her.
"Oh,
Marilla, I know by your face that it's been no use," she said
sorrowfully. "Mrs. Barry
won't forgive me?"
"Mrs.
Barry indeed!" snapped Marilla. "Of
all the unreasonable women I ever saw she's the worst.
I told her it was all a mistake and you weren't to blame, but she
just simply didn't believe me. And
she rubbed it well in about my currant wine and how I'd always said it
couldn't have the least effect on anybody. I just told her plainly that
currant wine wasn't meant to be drunk three tumblerfuls at a time and that
if a child I had to do with was so greedy I'd sober her up with a right good
spanking."
Marilla
whisked into the kitchen, grievously disturbed, leaving a very much
distracted little soul in the porch behind her. Presently Anne stepped out
bareheaded into the chill autumn dusk; very determinedly and steadily she
took her way down through the sere clover field over the log bridge and up
through the spruce grove, lighted by a pale little moon hanging low over the
western woods. Mrs. Barry,
coming to the door in answer to a timid knock, found a white-lipped
eager-eyed suppliant on the doorstep.
Her
face hardened. Mrs. Barry was a
woman of strong prejudices and dislikes, and her anger was of the cold,
sullen sort which is always hardest to overcome.
To do her justice, she really believed Anne had made Diana drunk out
of sheer malice prepense,??? and she was honestly anxious to preserve her
little daughter from the contamination of further intimacy with such a
child.
"What
do you want?" she said stiffly.
Anne
clasped her hands.
"Oh,
Mrs. Barry, please forgive me. I
did not mean to--to--intoxicate Diana.
How could I? Just
imagine if you were a poor little orphan girl that kind people had adopted
and you had just one bosom friend in all the world.
Do you think you would intoxicate her on purpose?
I thought it was only raspberry cordial.
I was firmly convinced it was raspberry cordial.
Oh, please don't say that you won't let Diana play with me any more.
If you do you will cover my life with a dark cloud of woe."
This
speech which would have softened good Mrs. Lynde's heart in a twinkling, had
no effect on Mrs. Barry except to irritate her still more.
She was suspicious of Anne's big words and dramatic gestures and
imagined that the child was making fun of her.
So she said, coldly and cruelly:
"I
don't think you are a fit little girl for Diana to associate with.
You'd better go home and behave yourself."
Anne's
lips quivered.
"Won't
you let me see Diana just once to say farewell?" she implored.
"Diana
has gone over to Carmody with her father," said Mrs. Barry, going in
and shutting the door.
Anne
went back to Green Gables calm with despair.
"My
last hope is gone," she told Marilla.
"I went up and saw Mrs. Barry myself and she treated me very
insultingly. Marilla, I do NOT think she is a well-bred woman.
There is nothing more to do except to pray and I haven't much hope
that that'll do much good because, Marilla, I do not believe that God
Himself can do very much with such an obstinate person as Mrs. Barry."
"Anne,
you shouldn't say such things" rebuked Marilla, striving to overcome
that unholy tendency to laughter which she was dismayed to find growing upon
her. And indeed, when she told
the whole story to Matthew that night, she did laugh heartily over Anne's
tribulations.
But
when she slipped into the east gable before going to bed and found that Anne
had cried herself to sleep an unaccustomed softness crept into her face.
"Poor
little soul," she murmured, lifting a loose curl of hair from the
child's tear-stained face. Then
she bent down and kissed the flushed cheek on the pillow.
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