Anne of Windy Poplars - L. M. Montgomery [47]
An old neighbour up the street dropped in at this juncture, and Pauline snatched at the chance to go a little way with Anne.
‘Good night, Miss Shirley,’ said Mrs Gibson quite graciously. ‘I’m much obliged to you. If there was more people like you in this town it would be the better for it.’ She grinned toothlessly, and pulled Anne down to her. ‘I don’t care what people say. I think you’re real nice-looking,’ she whispered.
Pauline and Anne walked along the street through the cool, green night, and Pauline let herself go, as she had not dared do before her mother.
‘Oh, Miss Shirley, it was heavenly! How can I ever repay you? I’ve never spent such a wonderful day. I’ll live on it for years. It was such fun being a bridesmaid again. And Captain Isaac Kent was groomsman. He – he used to be an old beau of mine. Well – no, hardly a beau. I don’t think he ever had any real intentions, but we drove round together. And he paid me two compliments. He said, “I remember how pretty you looked at Louisa’s wedding in that wine-coloured dress.” Wasn’t it wonderful his remembering the dress? And he said, “Your hair looks just as much like molasses taffy as it ever did.” There wasn’t anything improper in his saying that, was there, Miss Shirley?’
‘Nothing whatever.’
‘Lou and Molly and I had such a nice supper together after everybody had gone. I was so hungry. I don’t think I’ve been so hungry for years. It was so nice to eat just what I wanted, and nobody to warn me about things that wouldn’t agree with my stomach. After supper Mary and I went over to her old home, and wandered round the garden, talking over old times. We saw the lilac bushes we planted years ago. We had some beautiful summers together when we were girls. Then when it came sunset we went down to the dear old shore and sat there on a rock in silence. There was a bell ringing down at the harbour, and it was lovely to feel the wind from the sea again and see the stars trembling in the water. I had forgotten night on the Gulf could be so beautiful. When it got quite dark we went back, and Mr Gregor was ready to start; and so,’ concluded Pauline, with a laugh, ‘the Old Woman got Home that Night.’
‘I wish – I wish you didn’t have such a hard time at home, Pauline.’
‘Oh, dear Miss Shirley, I won’t mind it now,’ said Pauline quickly. ‘After all, poor Ma needs me. And it’s nice to be needed, my dear.’
Yes, it was nice to be needed. Anne thought of this in her tower room, where Dusty Miller, having evaded both Rebecca Dew and the widows, was curled up on her bed. She thought of Pauline trotting back to her bondage, but accompanied by ‘the immortal spirit of one happy day’.
‘I hope someone will always need me,’ said Anne to Dusty Miller. ‘And it’s wonderful, Dusty Miller, to be able to give happiness to somebody. It has made me feel so rich, giving Pauline this day. But, oh, Dusty Miller, you don’t think I’ll ever be like Mrs Adoniram Gibson, even if I live to be eighty? Do you, Dusty Miller?’
Dusty Miller, with rich, throaty purrs, assured her he didn’t.
16
Anne went down to Bonnyview on the Friday night before the wedding. The Nelsons were giving a dinner for some family friends and wedding guests arriving by the boat train. The big, rambling house which was Dr Nelson’s summer home was built among spruces on a long point, with the bay on both sides and a stretch of golden-breasted dunes beyond that knew all there was to be known about winds.
Anne liked it the moment she saw it. An old stone house always looks reposeful and dignified. It fears not what rain or wind or changing fashion can do. And on this June evening it was bubbling over with young life and excitement – the laughter of girls, the greetings of old friends, buggies coming and going, children running everywhere, gifts arriving, everyone in the delightful turmoil of a wedding – while Dr Nelson’s two black cats, who rejoiced in the names of Barnabas and