Anne of Green Gables
CHAPTER XIII
The Delights of Anticipation
"It's time Anne was in to do her sewing," said Marilla, glancing at the clock
and then out into the yellow August afternoon where everything drowsed in the
heat. "She stayed playing with Diana more than half an hour more'n I gave her
leave to; and now she's perched out there on the woodpile talking to Matthew,
nineteen to the dozen, when she knows perfectly well she ought to be at her
work. And of course he's listening to her like a perfect ninny. I never saw such
an infatuated man. The more she talks and the odder the things she says, the
more he's delighted evidently. Anne Shirley, you come right in here this minute,
do you hear me!"
A series of staccato taps on the west window brought Anne flying in from the
yard, eyes shining, cheeks faintly flushed with pink, unbraided hair streaming
behind her in a torrent of brightness.
"Oh, Marilla," she exclaimed breathlessly, "there's going to be a
Sunday-school picnic next week—in Mr. Harmon Andrews's field, right near the
lake of Shining Waters. And Mrs. Superintendent Bell and Mrs. Rachel Lynde are
going to make ice cream—think of it, Marilla—ICE CREAM! And, oh, Marilla, can I
go to it?"
"Just look at the clock, if you please, Anne. What time did I tell you to
come in?"
"Two o'clock—but isn't it splendid about the picnic, Marilla? Please can I
go? Oh, I've never been to a picnic—I've dreamed of picnics, but I've never—"
"Yes, I told you to come at two o'clock. And it's a quarter to three. I'd
like to know why you didn't obey me, Anne."
"Why, I meant to, Marilla, as much as could be. But you have no idea how
fascinating Idlewild is. And then, of course, I had to tell Matthew about the
picnic. Matthew is such a sympathetic listener. Please can I go?"
"You'll have to learn to resist the fascination of Idle-whatever-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?"