Ten whole months have flown by since Davy and Dora came to Green Gables.
Right when the children had really come to feel at home,
we got notice of a most unexpected visit.
I'm awful hungry.
I'll give you a biscuit in a minute.
But I ain't biscuit hungry.
I'm plum cake hungry.
That's a kind of hunger that can be endured very comfortably.
Well, gimme a biscuit, then.
Oh, Marilla!
What do you think this letter is about?
I'm sure I don't know.
It's from Priscilla, my friend from Queen's,
and she says that Mrs. Morgan is on the Island.
The Mrs. Morgan who writes those novels you're always reading?
The very same!
The Rosebud Garden is my special favorite.
Mrs. Morgan is a distant relative of Priscilla's,
and if it is fine Thursday, they are going to drive up to Avonlea for dinner.
Oh, isn't it wonderful?
I can hardly believe I'm not dreaming.
I daresay Mrs. Morgan is a lot like other people.
Oh, Marilla, may I cook every bit of the dinner myself?
I want to feel that I can do something for the author of The Rosebud Garden.
I daresay you wouldn't take no for an answer.
You're quite welcome to the job.
Oh, thank you!
Then we ought to invite Mr. and Mrs. Allan and Miss Stacy, too.
And I'll ask Diana over to help.
You'd better not try to put on too much style.
I won't!
What shall we put on the menu?
And how shall we dress the place up?
I simply must put on a marvelous dinner for Mrs. Morgan!
Chapter 13
When I Think Something Nice Is Going to Happen, I Seem to Fly Right Up On the Wings of Anticipation
I'll have a light soup to begin with,
and then a couple of roast fowls.
If Marilla'll hold them by the legs, I'll manage the axe.
I'd appreciate it.
Then I'll have peas and beans and creamed potatoes and a lettuce salad.
Dora, would you help me shell the peas?
Of course.
I'm having very important guests tomorrow, you two.
Promise me you'll be on your best behavior.
We will!
Good. Then we'll start with a cleaning!
Say, Anne,
what do you imagine Mrs. Morgan is like?
I've imagined her a dozen different ways.
What she'll look like, and what she'll say.
And I'm so anxious about the freckles on my nose.
All Mrs. Morgan's heroines have such perfect complexions.
They're not very noticeable.
Do you think so?
Try a little lemon juice on them tonight if they really bother you.
I'll give that a try.
Anne, why's your nose all shiny? I want to know.
I put lemon juice on it.
What'd you want to do that for?
Because I want to look my best.
Huh.
Thank you for all your help today, Davy-boy.
Will you promise to behave yourself again tomorrow?
If I'm as good as good can be all day tomorrow.
will you let me be just as bad as I like all the next day?
I couldn't do that,
but I'll take you and Dora for a row in the flat.
Really? It's a bargain!
I meant to go over to Mr. Harrison's and fire peas from my new popgun at Ginger,
but another day'll do as well.
You shouldn't do that any day.
I bet tomorrow'll be no fun, since I'll have to be good all the time.
I won't let that happen.
We're having my dear Mrs. Morgan to dinner;
I'll make it a wonderful day!
It looks like a lovely day.
Good morning, Anne.
Good morning, Diana.
You look simply sweet in that apron.
This is for the preparations.
Of course I'll wear my white muslin to dinner.
I know you'll look lovely in it.
But it's a little tight.
I weigh four pounds more than I did last month.
Mrs. Morgan's heroines are all tall and slender.
And what if they are?
You're Diana Barry with the dearest dimples.
Let's forget our troubles and think of our mercies.
If I have a freckled nose, the shape of it is all right.
Yes, it is.
Do you think the lemon juice did any good?
Yes, I really think it did.
Did it really? Thank goodness!
I'll help you pick flowers.
We'll decorate the parlor first, then set the table.
Priscilla said they'd be here about twelve.
Yes!
Let's put an allusion to The Rosebud Garden at Mrs. Morgan's place.
What a lovely idea!
I'm pleased to see you being good, Davy.
I promised, didn't I?
Now if only my freckles don't make themselves too obvious.
I do hope I'll be able to say something once in a while.
I don't think there is much fear that I won't be able to talk.
It was so good of you all to come.
Thank you for inviting us today.
The thought of it has brightened our days.
How nice to see you again, Anne, Diana.
You both look charming.
Thank you very much.
They're awfully late.
Suppose they don't come at all?
Don't suppose it.
But they really ought to be here by now.
Anne, Miss Stacy wants to see the willowware platter.
I thought she would. I'm just wiping it.
Davy?!
I finished raveling out my herring net and went to put it on the shelf, only...
Davy Keith, didn't I forbid you to climb up on that table again? Didn't I?
I forgot.
You've told me not to do such an awful lot of things that I can't remember them all.
Well, you march upstairs and stay there till after dinner!
I didn't mean to fall on the pie.
Since it's spoiled, can't I take some of the pieces upstairs with me?
No, you may not!
What shall we do for dessert?
I think we have a crock of strawberry preserves.
There's plenty of whipped cream left in the bowl for it.
Something must have delayed them.
We cannot keep the Allans or Miss Stacy waiting any longer.
Shall we go ahead and have dinner now?
No, I know that they'll be here.
Mrs. Morgan's heroines always rise to the occasion.
Anne, did you put sugar in these peas?
Yes, I put a spoonful of sugar in. We always do.
But I put a spoonful in too, when I set them on the stove.
They're sweet! How awful!
It's a case of too many cooks, I guess.
I didn't think you'd remember about the sugar, Anne, so I put in a spoonful.
Well, there will be no green peas today.
No!
Davy!
Did you throw that conch down on purpose?!
No, I never did. I got hungry and tried to go downstairs and my hand slipped.
Well, look what you've done!
Don't blame Davy.
It was my fault. I set that platter there and forgot all about it.
Mrs. Morgan?! Now, of all times?!
Good afternoon.
Rachel?
O-Oh, it's only you.
Only me, is it?
I just came from the post office. A letter's come for you,
and I'm here to deliver it.
It's from Priscilla. She posted it yesterday.
"Oh, Anne dear, I know this is sudden, but Aunty has sprained her ankle."
"I'm so sorry, but I'm afraid we won't get up to Green Gables at all now,"
"for by the time Aunty's ankle is well, she will have to go back to Toronto."
I hope I'm not imposing.
It was too good to be true.
Perhaps when Diana and I are old and gray, we shall be able to laugh over today.
But not before then, for it has truly been a bitter disappointment.
Have you heard about the hall?
Yes, they painted it a brilliant blue.
They were meant to paint it a beautiful green.
It was to be the symbol of our society.
You are never going to outgrow your fashion of setting your heart so on things
and then crashing down into despair because you don't get them.
I know I'm too much inclined that way.
When I think something nice is going to happen,
I seem to fly right up on the wings of anticipation.
But the flying part is glorious as long as it lasts.
It's like soaring through a sunset.
I think it almost pays for the thud.
I'd rather walk calmly along and do without both flying and thud.
Where's Davy?
In bed. I've promised to take him and Dora to the shore for a picnic tomorrow.
He tried to be good, and I hadn't the heart to disappoint him.
You'll drown yourself or the twins, rowing about the pond in that flat.
Suppose you come with us tomorrow.
No, thank you.
There's Gilbert coming up the lane.
Why don't you invite him for a row on the pond?
Yes, perhaps I will.
Nothing beats a boat!
Be careful!
I wouldn't have minded if I fell in!
I know the feeling, Davy, but do you know how to swim?
Not a bit!
Then don't say you wouldn't mind falling in.
You'll get a great bloated belly full of water if you drown.
Would I?!
I'd like a big, full belly!
Do you know how to swim, Dora?
No, I don't.
Then I'll teach you sometime.
Would you really?!
I love you, Gilbert!
But I bet I could swim, even if I'd never learned how.
The boat's so much fun, it makes me want to give it a try.
No. We didn't bring swimming things today.
Oh, you're no fun.
I wanted a soak and a splash.
Say, do you think I could swim to that bank?
Teacher!
Paul.
Are you visiting a grave, too?
Yes.
I'm taking this bouquet of geraniums to put on Grandpa Irving's grave for Grandma.
And I'm leaving this bunch of white roses in memory of my little mother.
Your mother passed away in the States, didn't she?
Yes. It's just three years today since she died.
I'm sure Father will be visiting her grave in Boston soon, if he hasn't already.
It's been three whole years.
Paul...
Such a long, long time but it hurts just as much as ever.
Sometimes it seems to me that I just can't bear it, it hurts so.
And yet you wouldn't want it to stop hurting.
You wouldn't want to forget your little mother even if you could.
You're so good at understanding, teacher.
I couldn't talk much to Father about Mother, because it made him feel so bad.
When he put his hand over his face, I always knew it was time to stop.
Paul...
See here, Paul, you mustn't blame yourself. Nor your father, of course.
Father's splendid when you do get to know him.
I love him the best in all the world, and Grandma Irving next,
and then you, teacher.
Goodness!
I'd love you next to father if it wasn't my duty to love Grandma Irving best,
because she's doing so much for me.
Yes, and I love you, too, Paul.
If you don't mind, would you tell me about your mother?
Of course.
Mrs. Lynde came over the other day.
She looked at a photo of Mother and said,
"She's a real pretty woman, but I daresay your father will find another wife."
She gave me such a shock, I thought I might die then and there.
Now, Davy, you try to be a good boy and don't bother Anne.
I won't be bad on purpose, but s'posen I'm bad zacksidentally?
You'll have to guard against accidents.
Anne, if Mr. Shearer comes today, get some steak.
I'll remember.
Well then, I'd best be off.
Take care.
Come along, Davy-boy. You'll help me clean the house today.
All right.
But I want a cookie first.
Not till we're done!
More rampant than ever.
What're you looking for, Anne?
My freckle lotion. I found the recipe for it in a magazine.
Here it is!
That must be Mr. Shearer.
Here I am!
Mr. Shearer, we'd like some steak and...
It's dreadful to come upon you so unexpectedly as this.
This is Mrs. Morgan and Mrs. Pendexter.
M-M-Mrs. Morgan?!
W-Welcome to Green Gables.
It's an honor to meet you.
My name is Anne Shirley.
I didn't expect Mrs. Morgan to be a stout little gray-haired woman.
The tall one is Mrs. Pendexter.
She lives in New York and her husband is a millionaire.
In any event, this is all awfully sudden. I can still feel my heart racing.
I'm so sorry. Aunty's ankle felt better sooner than we expected,
and she wanted to meet you, so I brought her over.
But really, Anne, your nose...
My freckles, you mean!
I know, but it's no use fretting.
I'll run and get things ready for tea.
Thank goodness Marilla made preserves.
Do you have company, Anne? I saw a strange carriage outside.
Diana, you couldn't have come at a better time.
Who do you suppose is in that parlor at this very moment?
Oh, Diana, don't look at me so. You, at least, must be used to my freckles.
It isn't your freckles, Anne. It's your nose.
My nose? Surely nothing has gone wrong with it!
What?
What?!
What is the matter with it?
I thought I was rubbing my freckle lotion on it,
but I must have used that red dye Marilla has for marking the pattern on her rugs.
What shall I do?
It's blazing scarlet, although I don't like to say so.
I don't care how much it hurts! Scrub as hard as you can!
I'm trying to!
First I dye my hair; then I dye my nose.
Marilla cut my hair off when I dyed it
but that remedy would hardly be practicable in this case.
It's awfully stubborn!
Wait, that hurts! It hurts!
What good will rubbing it even redder do?!
You said you didn't mind if it hurt!
These preserved plums taste delightful.
Yes. Marilla made them.
A really refined flavor.
May I ask for another helping?
Yes, of course.
And so I brushed on the dye, trying to turn my hair black, but it came out green.
Even red hair was better than that.
Yet here I am four years later,
turning my nose red with what I thought was freckle cream.
I certainly am clumsy with dyes!
Good day.
Take care!
Bye-bye!
It has indeed been a feast of reason and flow of soul, hasn't it?
I don't know which I enjoyed more,
listening to Mrs. Morgan or gazing at Mrs. Pendexter.
Mrs. Pendexter is rich, and yet she took a second helping of the plum preserves.
I daresay even an English earl
wouldn't have turned up his aristocratic nose at Marilla's plum preserves.
I shall never try any beautifying messes again.
A few freckles are preferable to a red nose.
I'm more like myself with them.
Next Time
It Is Never Too Late for the Real Prince to Come for the True Princess