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Lover
's
Lane
was
a
dear
place
that
night
,
still
and
mysteriously
dim
in
the
pale
radiance
of
the
moonlight
.
They
loitered
through
it
in
a
pleasant
chummy
silence
,
neither
caring
to
talk
.
"
If
Gilbert
were
always
as
he
has
been
this
evening
how
nice
and
simple
everything
would
be
,
"
reflected
Anne
.
Gilbert
was
looking
at
Anne
,
as
she
walked
along
.
In
her
light
dress
,
with
her
slender
delicacy
,
she
made
him
think
of
a
white
iris
.
"
I
wonder
if
I
can
ever
make
her
care
for
me
,
"
he
thought
,
with
a
pang
of
self-distrust
.
Charlie
Sloane
,
Gilbert
Blythe
and
Anne
Shirley
left
Avonlea
the
following
Monday
morning
.
Anne
had
hoped
for
a
fine
day
.
Diana
was
to
drive
her
to
the
station
and
they
wanted
this
,
their
last
drive
together
for
some
time
,
to
be
a
pleasant
one
.
But
when
Anne
went
to
bed
Sunday
night
the
east
wind
was
moaning
around
Green
Gables
with
an
ominous
prophecy
which
was
fulfilled
in
the
morning
.
Anne
awoke
to
find
raindrops
pattering
against
her
window
and
shadowing
the
pond
's
gray
surface
with
widening
rings
;
hills
and
sea
were
hidden
in
mist
,
and
the
whole
world
seemed
dim
and
dreary
.
Anne
dressed
in
the
cheerless
gray
dawn
,
for
an
early
start
was
necessary
to
catch
the
boat
train
;
she
struggled
against
the
tears
that
WOULD
well
up
in
her
eyes
in
spite
of
herself
.
She
was
leaving
the
home
that
was
so
dear
to
her
,
and
something
told
her
that
she
was
leaving
it
forever
,
save
as
a
holiday
refuge
.
Things
would
never
be
the
same
again
;
coming
back
for
vacations
would
not
be
living
there
.
And
oh
,
how
dear
and
beloved
everything
was
--
that
little
white
porch
room
,
sacred
to
the
dreams
of
girlhood
,
the
old
Snow
Queen
at
the
window
,
the
brook
in
the
hollow
,
the
Dryad
's
Bubble
,
the
Haunted
Woods
,
and
Lover
's
Lane
--
all
the
thousand
and
one
dear
spots
where
memories
of
the
old
years
bided
.
Could
she
ever
be
really
happy
anywhere
else
?
Breakfast
at
Green
Gables
that
morning
was
a
rather
doleful
meal
.
Davy
,
for
the
first
time
in
his
life
probably
,
could
not
eat
,
but
blubbered
shamelessly
over
his
porridge
.
Nobody
else
seemed
to
have
much
appetite
,
save
Dora
,
who
tucked
away
her
rations
comfortably
.
Dora
,
like
the
immortal
and
most
prudent
Charlotte
,
who
"
went
on
cutting
bread
and
butter
"
when
her
frenzied
lover
's
body
had
been
carried
past
on
a
shutter
,
was
one
of
those
fortunate
creatures
who
are
seldom
disturbed
by
anything
.
Even
at
eight
it
took
a
great
deal
to
ruffle
Dora
's
placidity
.
She
was
sorry
Anne
was
going
away
,
of
course
,
but
was
that
any
reason
why
she
should
fail
to
appreciate
a
poached
egg
on
toast
?
Not
at
all
.
And
,
seeing
that
Davy
could
not
eat
his
,
Dora
ate
it
for
him
.
Promptly
on
time
Diana
appeared
with
horse
and
buggy
,
her
rosy
face
glowing
above
her
raincoat
.
The
good-byes
had
to
be
said
then
somehow
.
Mrs.
Lynde
came
in
from
her
quarters
to
give
Anne
a
hearty
embrace
and
warn
her
to
be
careful
of
her
health
,
whatever
she
did
.
Marilla
,
brusque
and
tearless
,
pecked
Anne
's
cheek
and
said
she
supposed
they
'd
hear
from
her
when
she
got
settled
.
A
casual
observer
might
have
concluded
that
Anne
's
going
mattered
very
little
to
her
--
unless
said
observer
had
happened
to
get
a
good
look
in
her
eyes
.
Dora
kissed
Anne
primly
and
squeezed
out
two
decorous
little
tears
;
but
Davy
,
who
had
been
crying
on
the
back
porch
step
ever
since
they
rose
from
the
table
,
refused
to
say
good-bye
at
all
.
When
he
saw
Anne
coming
towards
him
he
sprang
to
his
feet
,
bolted
up
the
back
stairs
,
and
hid
in
a
clothes
closet
,
out
of
which
he
would
not
come
.
His
muffled
howls
were
the
last
sounds
Anne
heard
as
she
left
Green
Gables
.
It
rained
heavily
all
the
way
to
Bright
River
,
to
which
station
they
had
to
go
,
since
the
branch
line
train
from
Carmody
did
not
connect
with
the
boat
train
.
Charlie
and
Gilbert
were
on
the
station
platform
when
they
reached
it
,
and
the
train
was
whistling
.
Anne
had
just
time
to
get
her
ticket
and
trunk
check
,
say
a
hurried
farewell
to
Diana
,
and
hasten
on
board
.
She
wished
she
were
going
back
with
Diana
to
Avonlea
;
she
knew
she
was
going
to
die
of
homesickness
.
And
oh
,
if
only
that
dismal
rain
would
stop
pouring
down
as
if
the
whole
world
were
weeping
over
summer
vanished
and
joys
departed
!
Even
Gilbert
's
presence
brought
her
no
comfort
,
for
Charlie
Sloane
was
there
,
too
,
and
Sloanishness
could
be
tolerated
only
in
fine
weather
.
It
was
absolutely
insufferable
in
rain
.
