In the Woods When First We Met

158. Heart to Heart

When Marilla went up to say goodnight to Anne that evening, she brought Gilbert's notes with her.

Anne looked up from her book as Marilla came in.

"What are you reading?" Marilla asked kindly.

Anne help up the cover. "Matthew's bird book."

"I thought you'd finished that," Marilla said.

"I did," she explained. "But I'm reading it again. I want to memorize it."

"The whole book?" Marilla asked, amused.

"Well...as much as I can. Just think of seeing any bird, any bird at all, and knowing everything about it, right off the top of your head. I'd love to do that. ...I'm going to memorize the bits about penguins last, I think, since that part is the least useful- or at least, will be useful the least often. I can't imagine penguins coming up very often in conversation."

Marilla smiled. "There's really nothing that doesn't interest you, is there?"

"No," Anne said, "There isn't. I like everything. I would read all day long if I could. Imagine having a library like the one in ancient Alexandria. I read once that it burned, Marilla, and it was such a tragical thing, I cried! I sat there weeping over the book I was reading, just thinking of all that knowledge lost, and lost forever!"

"You are so dedicated to reading and learning, Anne, that it would be easy to trust you to learn on your own at home. I'd never need to cajole you into focusing on your books, would I?"

"What do you mean, Marilla?"

Marilla said, "Anne, we think you ought to stay home with us now. We don't want you to have to be around that boy. You've been very brave, going to school with him, all this time. But we don't think it's good for you. Will it upset you if we keep you home- at least until we know what to do about all this?"

Anne pulled Mr. Phillip's note out from underneath her mattress and handed it to Marilla. "I can't go anyway, now. Mr. Phillips doesn't want me there."

Ah, so this is the note from Mr. Phillips, Marilla thought. She wondered when Anne was going to show it to her. Marilla read it. "When did he give this to you?"

"Friday," Anne said, sitting up in bed. "Mr. Phillips wrote it because he thought I was sick- and that's why I came home- but the real story is that I ran to the privy just to get away from them all. They were all accusing me of doing wicked things and they thought maybe Gilbert was in on it, just because he was helping me, and..."

Anne decided to leave out the part about the baby.

"They waited for me to come out," she said, hugging her knees.

"Oh, no," Marilla breathed, imagining Anne having to come out of the privy and be confronted with all those angry girls. "So you had to come out and face them?"

"No," Anne said. "Gilbert sat there until they went away...eventually the bell rang."

"Oh," Marilla said. "Did he leave when the bell rang too?"

"No," Anne said, wiping her eyes. "No...he stayed."

Marilla nodded.

Then Anne said, "I was afraid he was going to get in trouble for going into the privy with me, but-"

"He was in the privy with you?" Marilla asked.

Anne said, "Please don't be angry, he wasn't doing anything-"

"No, I wasn't," Marilla said. "I was just surprised, that's all. But...as long as nothing happened."

Anne shook her head. But then she said, her voice quavering, "He hugged me when I cried...was that wrong?"

Marilla's eyes softened, "No dear. I'm glad you had him there, if he made you feel better."

Anne looked down at her blanket.

Marilla said, "I'm glad Gilbert seemed to be looking out for you at school. It can't have been easy...for either of you."

Anne nodded...but then shook her head, remembering that she had decided never to speak to him again. "I hate him, though," she reminded Marilla.

Marilla nodded. "Yes, I know. But Anne, let me tell you something. I think he held on as long as he could."

"What do you mean?"

"You didn't want him to tell, and he respected that, all this time- until it became an emergency, and that's when he told."

"What do you mean, an emergency?"

"It had gotten out... I think you know that part. People were going to be talking, and...and if Gilbert hadn't told me when he did, then I would have heard about it as a rumor from one of the parents of the school children."

Anne nodded. "I know."

Marilla said, "He wanted your story told the right way, not full of lies."

She looked into Anne's eyes. "And when he told me, Anne, I could tell that he hated himself for doing it. He didn't want to betray your trust. That was his biggest concern. When he left, he told me that he didn't want to make decisions for you because he didn't want you to feel that he would ever violate you."

Anne bit her lip. "I know that. I know I can trust him! I like him."

"Oh, do you?" Marilla asked, raising her eyebrows. "I thought you hated him."

Anne sighed. Finally she said, "No, I guess I don't."

Marilla unfolded the notes in her hand and gave them to Anne. "He bought you these this afternoon, dear. I told him we weren't sending you back to school, but he doesn't want you to get behind in your learning."

Anne looked down at the composition book paper, carefully copied by Gilbert in perfect penmanship.

"Did he say anything else?" She finally asked, not looking at Marilla.

"He said 'I'd rather her get help, even if it means losing her'. Mighty sorrowful look in his eyes when he said it, too. But even if you're never going to speak to him again, he took comfort in knowing you had the help you needed."

Anne bit her lip.

Marilla went on, "It's too bad he had to make a choice, though. It would be nice if you could have help and he didn't have to lose you."

Anne lay down in her bed and reached over to turn out her lamp. "Well," she said in the darkness, "I suppose I could think about speaking to him again. He isn't all bad. He's quite nice, really."

Marilla smiled to herself and softly shut the door.