Annes House of Dreams | Page 7

Mesdames Bell and Andrews were
forgotten when Gilbert came later, and they wandered down to the
birches of the brook, which had been saplings when Anne had come to
Green Gables, but were now tall, ivory columns in a fairy palace of
twilight and stars. In their shadows Anne and Gilbert talked in
lover-fashion of their new home and their new life together.
"I've found a nest for us, Anne."
"Oh, where? Not right in the village, I hope. I wouldn't like that
altogether."
"No. There was no house to be had in the village. This is a little white
house on the harbor shore, half way between Glen St. Mary and Four
Winds Point. It's a little out of the way, but when we get a 'phone in
that won't matter so much. The situation is beautiful. It looks to the
sunset and has the great blue harbor before it. The sand-dunes aren't
very far away--the sea winds blow over them and the sea spray
drenches them."
"But the house itself, Gilbert,--OUR first home? What is it like?"
"Not very large, but large enough for us. There's a splendid living room
with a fireplace in it downstairs, and a dining room that looks out on
the harbor, and a little room that will do for my office. It is about sixty
years old--the oldest house in Four Winds. But it has been kept in
pretty good repair, and was all done over about fifteen years
ago--shingled, plastered and re-floored. It was well built to begin with.
I understand that there was some romantic story connected with its
building, but the man I rented it from didn't know it.

He said Captain Jim was the only one who could spin that old yarn
now."
"Who is Captain Jim?"
"The keeper of the lighthouse on Four Winds Point. You'll love that
Four Winds light, Anne. It's a revolving one, and it flashes like a
magnificent star through the twilights. We can see it from our living
room windows and our front door."
"Who owns the house?"
"Well, it's the property of the Glen St. Mary Presbyterian Church now,
and I rented it from the trustees. But it belonged until lately to a very
old lady, Miss Elizabeth Russell. She died last spring, and as she had
no near relatives she left her property to the Glen St. Mary Church. Her
furniture is still in the house, and I bought most of it--for a mere song
you might say, because it was all so old- fashioned that the trustees
despaired of selling it. Glen St. Mary folks prefer plush brocade and
sideboards with mirrors and ornamentations, I fancy. But Miss
Russell's furniture is very good and I feel sure you'll like it, Anne."
"So far, good," said Anne, nodding cautious approval. "But, Gilbert,
people cannot live by furniture alone. You haven't yet mentioned one
very important thing. Are there TREES about this house?"
"Heaps of them, oh, dryad! There is a big grove of fir trees behind it,
two rows of Lombardy poplars down the lane, and a ring of white
birches around a very delightful garden. Our front door opens right into
the garden, but there is another entrance--a little gate hung between two
firs. The hinges are on one trunk and the catch on the other. Their
boughs form an arch overhead."
"Oh, I'm so glad! I couldn't live where there were no trees-- something
vital in me would starve. Well, after that, there's no use asking you if
there's a brook anywhere near. THAT would be expecting too much."
"But there IS a brook--and it actually cuts across one corner of the

garden."
"Then," said Anne, with a long sigh of supreme satisfaction, "this house
you have found IS my house of dreams and none other."
CHAPTER 3
THE LAND OF DREAMS AMONG
"Have you made up your mind who you're going to have to the
wedding, Anne?" asked Mrs. Rachel Lynde, as she hemstitched table
napkins industriously. "It's time your invitations were sent, even if they
are to be only informal ones."
"I don't mean to have very many," said Anne. "We just want those we
love best to see us married. Gilbert's people, and Mr. and Mrs. Allan,
and Mr. and Mrs. Harrison."
"There was a time when you'd hardly have numbered Mr. Harrison
among your dearest friends," said Marilla drily.
"Well, I wasn't VERY strongly attracted to him at our first meeting,"
acknowledged Anne, with a laugh over the recollection. "But Mr.
Harrison has improved on acquaintance, and Mrs. Harrison is really a
dear. Then, of course, there are Miss Lavendar and Paul."
"Have they decided to come to the Island this summer? I thought they
were going to Europe."
"They changed their minds when I wrote them