Anne of Ingleside - L. M. Montgomery [38]
‘And now perhaps I may be excused, Annie. Such an old woman as I am needs rest after so much excitement.’
Swish, went Aunt Mary Maria’s taffeta skirt. Crash, went the basket of roses as she swept past it. Click, went Aunt Mary Maria’s high heels up the stairs. Bang, went Aunt Mary Maria’s door in the distance.
The dumbfounded guests ate their slices of birthday cake with such appetite as they could muster, in a strained silence, broken only by a story Mrs Amos Martin told desperately of a doctor in Nova Scotia who had poisoned several patients by injecting diphtheria germs into them. The others, feeling that this might not be in the best of taste, did not back up her laudable effort to ‘liven things up’, and all went away as soon as they decently could.
A distracted Anne rushed to Aunt Mary Maria’s room.
‘Auntie, what is the matter?’
‘Was it necessary to advertise my age in public, Annie? And to ask Adella Carey here… to have her find out how old I am… she’s been dying to know for years!’
‘Auntie, we meant… we meant…’
‘I don’t know what your purpose was, Annie. That there is something back of all this I know very well… oh, I can read your mind, dear Annie, but I shall not try to ferret it out, I shall leave it between you and your conscience.’
‘Aunt Mary Maria, my only intention was to give you a happy birthday… I’m dreadfully sorry.’
Aunt Mary Maria put her handkerchief to her eyes and smiled bravely.
‘Of course I forgive you, Annie. But you must realize that after such a deliberate attempt to injure my feelings I cannot stay here any longer.’
‘Auntie, won’t you believe…’
Aunt Mary Maria lifted a long, thin, knobbly hand.
‘Don’t let us discuss it, Annie. I want peace… just peace. “A wounded spirit who can bear?” ’
Anne went to the concert with Gilbert that night, but it could not be said she enjoyed it. Gilbert took the whole matter ‘just like a man’, as Miss Cornelia might have said.
‘I remember she was always a little touchy about her age. Dad used to rag her. I should have warned you… but it had slipped my memory. If she goes, don’t try to stop her’… and refrained through clannishness from adding, ‘Good riddance!’
‘She will not go. No such good luck, Mrs Doctor dear,’ said Susan incredulously.
But for once Susan was wrong. Aunt Mary Maria went away the very next day, forgiving everybody with her parting breath.
‘Don’t blame Annie, Gilbert,’ she said magnanimously. ‘I acquit her of all intentional insult. I never minded her having secrets from me, though to a sensitive mind like mine… but in spite of everything I’ve always liked poor Annie…’ this with the air of one confessing a weakness. ‘But Susan Baker is a cat of another colour. My last word to you, Gilbert, is… put Susan Baker in her place and keep her there.’
Nobody could believe in their good luck at first. Then they woke up to the fact that Aunt Mary Maria had really gone… that it was possible to laugh again without hurting anyone’s feelings… open all the windows without anyone complaining of draughts… eat a meal without anyone telling you that something you specially liked was liable to produce cancer of the stomach.
‘I’ve never sped a parting guest so willingly,’ thought Anne, half guiltily. ‘It is nice to call your soul your own again.’
The Shrimp groomed himself meticulously… the first peony burst into bloom in the garden.
‘The world is just full of poetry, isn’t it, Mummy?’ said Walter.
‘It is going to be a real nice June,’ foretold Susan. ‘The almanac says so. There are going to be a few brides, and most likely at least two funerals. Does it not seem strange to be able to draw a free breath again? When I think that I did all that lay in me to prevent you giving that party, Mrs Doctor dear, I realize afresh that there is an overruling Providence. And don’t you think, Mrs Doctor dear, that the doctor would relish some onions with his fried steak today?’
16
‘I felt I had to come up, dearie,’ said Miss Cornelia, ‘and explain about that telephone. It was all a mistake… I’m so sorry