Anne of Windy Poplars - L. M. Montgomery [99]
‘Aunt Maggie, is Dovie home?’
‘Dovie’s in bed,’ said Aunt Maggie stolidly.
‘In bed? Is she sick?’
‘Not as I knows on. She seemed to be in a dither all day. After supper she says she was tired, and ups and goes to bed.’
‘I must see her for a moment, Aunt Maggie. I – I just want a little important information.’
‘Better go up to her room, then. It’s the one on the right side as you go up.’ Aunt Maggie gestured to the stairs and waddled out to the kitchen.
Dovie sat up as Anne walked in, rather unceremoniously, after a hurried rap. As could be seen by the light of a tiny candle, Dovie was in tears, but her tears only exasperated Anne.
‘Dovie Westcott, did you forget that you promised to marry Jarvis Morrow tonight – tonight?’
‘No… no,’ whimpered Dovie. ‘Oh, Anne, I’m so unhappy! I’ve put in such a dreadful day. You can never, never know what I’ve gone through.’
‘I know what poor Jarvis has gone through, waiting for two hours at that lane in the cold and drizzle,’ said Anne mercilessly.
‘Is he – is he very angry, Anne?’
‘Just what you could notice’ – bitingly.
‘Oh, Anne, I just got frightened. I never slept one wink last night. I couldn’t go through with it – I couldn’t! I… There’s really something disgraceful about eloping, Anne. And I wouldn’t get any nice presents… Well, not many, anyhow. I’ve always wanted to be m-m-arried in church… with lovely decorations… and a white veil and dress… and s-s-silver slippers!’
‘Dovie Westcott, get right out of that bed – at once and get dressed, and come with me.’
‘Anne, it’s too late now.’
‘It isn’t too late. And it’s now or never. You must know that, Dovie, if you’ve a grain of sense. You must know Jarvis Morrow will never speak to you again if you make a fool of him like this.’
‘Oh, Anne, he’ll forgive me when he knows.’
‘He won’t. I know Jarvis Morrow. He isn’t going to let you play indefinitely with his life. Dovie, do you want me to drag you bodily out of bed?’
Dovie shuddered and sighed. ‘I haven’t any suitable dress.’
‘You’ve half a dozen pretty dresses. Put on your rose taffeta.’
‘And I haven’t any trousseau. The Morrows will always cast that up to me.’
‘You can get one afterwards. Dovie, didn’t you weigh all these things in the balance before?’
‘No… no… That’s just the trouble. I only began to think of them last night. And Father… You don’t know Father, Anne.’
‘Dovie, I’ll give you just ten minutes to get dressed!’
Dovie was dressed in the specified time.
‘This dress is g-g-getting too tight for me,’ she sobbed as Anne hooked her up. ‘If I get much fatter I don’t suppose Jarvis will 1-1-love me. I wish I was tall and slim and pale like you, Anne. Oh, Anne, what if Aunt Maggie hears us?’
‘She won’t. She’s shut in the kitchen, and you know she’s a little deaf. Here’s your hat and coat, and I’ve tumbled a few things into this bag.’
‘Oh, my heart is fluttering so. Do I look terrible, Anne?’
‘You look lovely,’ said Anne sincerely.
Dovie’s satin skin was rose and cream, and all her tears hadn’t spoiled her eyes. But Jarvis couldn’t see her eyes in the dark, and he was just a little annoyed with his adored fair one, and rather cool during the drive to town.
‘For heaven’s sake, Dovie, don’t look so scared over having to marry me,’ he said impatiently, as she came down the stairs of the Stevens’s house. ‘And don’t cry. It will make your nose swell. It’s nearly ten o’clock, and we’ve got to catch the eleven o’clock train.’
Dovie was quite all right as soon as she found herself irrevocably married to Jarvis. What Anne rather cattishly described in a letter to Gilbert as the ‘honeymoon look’ was already on her face.
‘Anne, darling, we owe it all to you. We’ll never forget it, will we, Jarvis? And oh, Anne darling, will you do just one more thing for me?