Further Chronicles of Avonlea

erry preserving-for Mary Sloane could not be trusted with that-and I was a little tired, and thought it was hardly worth w

he always liked to see me neat and dainty. So, although I was tired

disloyal to her, so I took the puffs down again and arranged my hair in the plain, old-fashioned way she had liked. My hair, though it had a good many gray thre

of mourning; she said that if the heart did not mourn crape would not mend matters; and if it did there was no need of the external trappings of woe. She told me cal

ifference in your inward

n, whether it were wholly because Hester had left me-whether it were not partly because

sat on the sandstone steps under the arch of the Virginia cr

before me. Through an open corner on the western side I saw the sky all silvery blue in the afterlight. The garden was very beautifu

he steps, all gloried over with blossoms-white, with pale pink hearts. I gathered a cluster an

ive me sufficient companionship. I wanted the clasp of a human hand, and the lov

ster was fifteen years older than I, and she had always seemed more like a mother than a sister. She

The Merediths had always been the "big" family of Newbridge. The rest of the people looked up to us, because we were t

of friendship and companionship which other girls had. But Hester possessed it in a double measure; she never allowed me to associate on a level of equality w

superiority. In his eyes I was just a girl like others-a girl to be wooed and won by any man of clean life and honest heart. I met him at a little Sunday-School picnic over at Avonlea, whi

of course, this would

a month's visit t

in the evenings, which we spent for the most part in the garden. I did not like the stately gloom and formality of our old Meredith parlor, and

the fact that I had never had a "beau," seeming to think it reflected som

ry angry-and grieved, which hurt me far more. She told me th

t then I was always weak. I think that was why Hugh's strength had appealed so to me. I needed love and protection. H

ent away. I thought he did not care much, and the thought selfishly made my own heartache worse. I was very unhappy for

time. But things were never quite the same again. Life always seemed rat

e was no need of her to do so. Hugh made no attempt to meet me, or speak with me, and I would not have permitted it if he had. But my heart always yearned after him. I was selfishly glad he had not married, be

, but afterwards a faint, misty little pleasure cr

illness was sudden and short; but, before she died, she

me for years. I thought she

promise?" I asked, weeping. "Hugh Blair does n

ely. "I could not rest in my grave if I thought you would disgr

o make her dying pillow easier. Besides, what did it mat

she heard me, an

d and obedient, though a little sentimental and foolish in some ways. You ar

fection and gentleness which her living face had almost always shown me. This distressed me, but I could not help it. I wished to think of her as kind and loving, but I could remember only the pride and cold

e to me and asked me to be his wife. He said he had

l his strong arms about me, and the warmth of his love enfoldi

ve by her deathbed. I could not break it, and I to

me like a knife-thrust. But I could not break my promise to the dead. If Hester had been living I wou

onlit rose-garden and wept for him. But after a time my tears dried and a very strange feeling

was real. The night was very calm and still. Not a breath of wind stirred. The moonshine was the brightest I had ever seen. In the middle of the garden, where the shadow of the poplars did not fall, it was almost as bright as day. One could have read fi

ught at first that it must be Mary Sloane; but, as she crossed a moonlit path, I s

r reminded me of Hester. Even so had Hester liked to wander about

r shade. Now and then she stooped, as if to caress a flower, but she plucked none. Half way up she out in to the moonlight and walked across the

back in a sickening terror; but I, the real I, was not frightened. I knew that this was my sister, and that there could be no reason why I should be frightened o

ife Hester had looked lovingly, even tenderly, upon me; but always, as it were, through a mask of pride and sternness. This was gone now, and I felt nearer to her than ever before. I knew suddenly t

koned to m

om

y long and still in that bright, calm moonshine. I felt as if I were in a dream, moving at the bidding of a will not my own, which I

nd noticed how clearly and darkly their pointed tops came out against the sky. I heard the tread of my own feet

he White Way of Delight." It was almost dark here; and yet I could see Hester's face just as plainly as if the moon wer

seldom what we would expect them to be. I simply felt annoyed that James Trent, the most notorious gossip in Newbridge, should

merely nodded

t. Taking a moonligh

ight, ai

to a gallop. They whirled around the curve of the road in an insta

en, for the first time, I understood why she had come back, and a blinding flash of joy broke o

uaint spot, full of old-fashioned flowers growing in a sort of disorderly sweetness. I trod on a bed of mint, and the spic

to the door

, Marg

by which, in after days, I was to know that this strange thing

d, with human fear an

ost, the big, strong fellow,

ers in all God's universe, except love. There is

ther's eyes, wondering, and t