anne of the island-第35章

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its　light　on　your　face　was　the　first　thing　your　ma　saw。〃



Anne　went　up　the　narrow　stairs　and　into　that　little　east　room

with　a　full　heart。　　It　was　as　a　shrine　to　her。　　Here　her　mother

had　dreamed　the　exquisite；　happy　dreams　of　anticipated　motherhood；

here　that　red　sunrise　light　had　fallen　over　them　both　in　the　sacred

hour　of　birth；　here　her　mother　had　died。　　Anne　looked　about　her

reverently；　her　eyes　with　tears。　　It　was　for　her　one　of　the　jeweled

hours　of　life　that　gleam　out　radiantly　forever　in　memory。



〃Just　to　think　of　it　　mother　was　younger　than　I　am　now　when　I　was　born；〃

she　whispered。



When　Anne　went　downstairs　the　lady　of　the　house　met　her　in　the　hall。

She　held　out　a　dusty　little　packet　tied　with　faded　blue　ribbon。



〃Here's　a　bundle　of　old　letters　I　found　in　that　closet　upstairs

when　I　came　here；〃　she　said。　　〃I　dunno　what　they　are　　I　never

bothered　to　look　in　'em；　but　the　address　on　the　top　one　is

‘Miss　Bertha　Willis；'　and　that　was　your　ma's　maiden　name。

You　can　take　'em　if　you'd　keer　to　have　'em。〃



〃Oh；　thank　you　　thank　you；〃　cried　Anne；　clasping　the　packet　rapturously。



〃That　was　all　that　was　in　the　house；〃　said　her　hostess。　　〃The　furniture

was　all　sold　to　pay　the　doctor　bills；　and　Mrs。　Thomas　got　your　ma's

clothes　and　little　things。　　I　reckon　they　didn't　last　long　among　that

drove　of　Thomas　youngsters。　　They　was　destructive　young　animals；

as　I　mind　'em。〃



〃I　haven't　one　thing　that　belonged　to　my　mother；〃　said　Anne；

chokily。　　〃I　　I　can　never　thank　you　enough　for　these　letters。〃



〃You're　quite　welcome。　　Laws；　but　your　eyes　is　like　your　ma's。

She　could　just　about　talk　with　hers。　　Your　father　was　sorter

homely　but　awful　nice。　　I　mind　hearing　folks　say　when　they　was

married　that　there　never　was　two　people　more　in　love　with　each

other　　Pore　creatures；　they　didn't　live　much　longer；　but　they

was　awful　happy　while　they　was　alive；　and　I　s'pose　that　counts

for　a　good　deal。〃



Anne　longed　to　get　home　to　read　her　precious　letters；　but　she

made　one　little　pilgrimage　first。　　She　went　alone　to　the　green

corner　of　the　〃old〃　Bolingbroke　cemetery　where　her　father　and

mother　were　buried；　and　left　on　their　grave　the　white　flowers

she　carried。　　Then　she　hastened　back　to　Mount　Holly；　shut　herself

up　in　her　room；　and　read　the　letters。　　Some　were　written　by　her

father；　some　by　her　mother。　　There　were　not　many　　only　a　dozen

in　all　　for　Walter　and　Bertha　Shirley　had　not　been　often

separated　during　their　courtship。　　The　letters　were　yellow

and　faded　and　dim；　blurred　with　the　touch　of　passing　years。

No　profound　words　of　wisdom　were　traced　on　the　stained　and

wrinkled　pages；　but　only　lines　of　love　and　trust。　　The　sweetness

of　forgotten　things　clung　to　them　　the　far…off；　fond　imaginings

of　those　long…dead　lovers。　　Bertha　Shirley　had　possessed　the　gift

of　writing　letters　which　embodied　the　charming　personality　of

the　writer　in　words　and　thoughts　that　retained　their　beauty　and

fragrance　after　the　lapse　of　time。　　The　letters　were　tender；

intimate；　sacred。　　To　Anne；　the　sweetest　of　all　was　the　one

written　after　her　birth　to　the　father　on　a　brief　absence。

It　was　full　of　a　proud　young　mother's　accounts　of　〃baby〃　

her　cleverness；　her　brightness；　her　thousand　sweetnesses。



〃I　love　her　best　when　she　is　asleep　and　better　still　when　she　is　awake；〃

Bertha　Shirley　had　written　in　the　postscript。　　Probably　it　was　the　last

sentence　she　had　ever　penned。　　The　end　was　very　near　for　her。



〃This　has　been　the　most　beautiful　day　of　my　life；〃　Anne　said　to　Phil

that　night。　　〃I've　FOUND　my　father　and　mother。　　Those　letters　have

made　them　REAL　to　me。　　I'm　not　an　orphan　any　longer。　　I　feel　as　if

I　had　opened　a　book　and　found　roses　of　yesterday；　sweet　and　beloved；

between　its　leaves。〃









Chapter　XXII



Spring　and　Anne　Return　to　Green　Gables





The　firelight　shadows　were　dancing　over　the　kitchen　walls　at

Green　Gables；　for　the　spring　evening　was　chilly；　through　the　open

east　window　drifted　in　the　subtly　sweet　voices　of　the　night。

Marilla　was　sitting　by　the　fire　　at　least；　in　body。　　In　spirit

she　was　roaming　olden　ways；　with　feet　grown　young。　　Of　late

Marilla　had　thus　spent　many　an　hour；　when　she　thought　she　should

have　been　knitting　for　the　twins。



〃I　suppose　I'm　growing　old；〃　she　said。



Yet　Marilla　had　changed　but　little　in　the　past　nine　years；　save

to　grow　something　thinner；　and　even　more　angular；　there　was　a

little　more　gray　in　the　hair　that　was　still　twisted　up　in　the

same　hard　knot；　with　two　hairpins　　WERE　they　the　same　hairpins？

　still　stuck　through　it。　　But　her　expression　was　very　different；

the　something　about　the　mouth　which　had　hinted　at　a　sense　of　humor

had　developed　wonderfully；　her　eyes　were　gentler　and　milder；　her

smile　more　frequent　and　tender。



Marilla　was　thinking　of　her　whole　past　life；　her　cramped　but　not

unhappy　childhood；　the　jealously　hidden　dreams　and　the　blighted

hopes　of　her　girlhood；　the　long；　gray；　narrow；　monotonous　years

of　dull　middle　life　that　followed。　　And　the　coming　of　Anne　

the　vivid；　imaginative；　impetuous　child　with　her　heart　of　love；

and　her　world　of　fancy；　bringing　with　her　color　and　warmth　and

radiance；　until　the　wilderness　of　existence　had　blossomed　like

the　rose。　　Marilla　felt　that　out　of　her　sixty　years　she　had

lived　only　the　nine　that　had　followed　the　advent　of　Anne。

And　Anne　would　be　home　tomorrow　night。



The　kitchen　door　opened。　　Marilla　looked　up　expecting　to　see　Mrs。

Lynde。　　Anne　stood　before　her；　tall　and　starry…eyed；　with　her

hands　full　of　Mayflowers　and　violets。



〃Anne　Shirley！〃　exclaimed　Marilla。　　For　once　in　her　life　she　was

surprised　out　of　her　reserve；　she　caught　her　girl　in　her　arms　and

crushed　her　and　her　flowers　against　her　heart；　kissing　the　bright

hair　and　sweet　face　warmly。　　〃I　never　looked　for　you　till

tomorrow　night。　　How　did　you　get　from　Carmody？〃



〃Walked；　dearest　of　Marillas。　　Haven't　I　done　it　a　score　of　times

in　the　Queen's　days？　　The　mailman　is　to　bring　my　trunk　tomorrow；

I　just　got　homesick　all　at　once；　and　came　a　day　earlier。　　And　oh！

I've　had　such　a　lovely　walk　in　the　May　twilight；　I　stopped　by　the

barrens　and　picked　these　Mayflowers；　I　came　through　Violet…Vale；

it's　just　a　big　bowlful　of　violets　now　　the　dear；　sky…tinted

things。　　Smell　them；　Marilla　　drink　them　in。〃



Marilla　sniffed　obligingly；　but　she　was　more　interested　in　Anne

than　in　drinking　violets。



〃Sit　down；　child。　　You　must　be　real　tired。　　I'm　going　to　get　you

some　supper。〃



〃There's　a　darling　moonrise　behind　the　hills　tonight；　Marilla；

and　oh；　how　the　frogs　sang　me　home　from　Carmody！　　I　do　love　the

music　of　　the　frogs。　　It　seems　bound　up　with　all　my　happiest

recollections　of　old　spring　evenings。　　And　it　always　reminds　me

of　the　night　I　came　here　first。　　Do　you　remember　it；　Marilla？〃



〃Well；　yes；〃　said　Marilla　with　emphasis。　　〃I'm　not　likely　to

forget　it　ever。〃



〃They　used　to　sing　so　madly　in　the　marsh　and　brook　that　year。

I　would　listen　to　them　at　my　window　in　the　dusk；　and　wonder　how

they　could　seem　so　glad　and　so　sad　at　the　same　time。　　Oh；　but

it's　good　to　be　home　again！　　Redmond　was　splendid　and　Bolingbroke

delightful　　but　Green　Gables　is　HOME。〃



〃Gilbert　isn't　coming　home　this　summer；　I　hear；〃　said　Marilla。



〃No。〃　　Something　in　Anne's　tone　made　Marilla　glance　at　her

sharply；　but　Anne　was　apparently　absorbed　in　arranging　her

violets　in　a　bowl。　　〃See；　aren't　they　sweet？〃　she　went　on

hurriedly。　　〃The　year　is　a　book；　isn't　it；　Marilla？　　Spring's

pages　are　written　in　Mayflowers　and　violets；　summer's　in　roses；

autumn's　in　red　maple　leaves；　and　winter　in　holly　and　evergreen。〃



〃Did　Gilbert　do　well　in　his　examinations？〃　persisted　Marilla。



〃Excellently　well。　　He　led　his　class。　　But　where　are　the　twins

and　Mrs。　Lynde？〃



〃Rachel　and　Dora　are　over　at　Mr。　Harrison's。　　Davy　is　down　at

Boulters'。　　I　think　I　hear　him　coming　now。〃



Davy　burst　in；　saw　Anne；　stopped；　and　then