A Book of Revelation

           

           TheIrvingscamebacktoEchoLodgeforthesummer,andAnnespentahappythreeweeksthereinJuly.MissLavendarhadnotchanged;CharlottatheFourthwasaverygrown-upyoungladynow,butstilladoredAnnesincerely.

           “Whenall’ssaidanddone,MissShirley,ma’am,Ihaven’tseenanyoneinBostonthat’sequaltoyou,”shesaidfrankly.

           Paulwasalmostgrownup,too.Hewassixteen,hischestnutcurlshadgivenplacetoclose-croppedbrownlocks,andhewasmoreinterestedinfootballthanfairies.Butthebondbetweenhimandhisoldteacherstillheld.Kindredspiritsalonedonotchangewithchangingyears.

           Itwasawet,bleak,crueleveninginJulywhenAnnecamebacktoGreenGables.Oneofthefiercesummerstormswhichsometimessweepoverthegulfwasravagingthesea.AsAnnecameinthefirstraindropsdashedagainstthepanes.

           “WasthatPaulwhobroughtyouhome?”askedMarilla.“Whydidn’tyoumakehimstayallnight.It’sgoingtobeawildevening.”

           “He’llreachEchoLodgebeforetheraingetsveryheavy,Ithink.Anyway,hewantedtogobacktonight.Well,I’vehadasplendidvisit,butI’mgladtoseeyoudearfolksagain.‘East,west,hame’sbest.’Davy,haveyoubeengrowingagainlately?”

           “I’vegrowedawholeinchsinceyouleft,”saidDavyproudly.“I’mastallasMiltyBoulternow.Ain’tIglad.He’llhavetostopcrowingaboutbeingbigger.Say,Anne,didyouknowthatGilbertBlytheisdying?”Annestoodquitesilentandmotionless,lookingatDavy.HerfacehadgonesowhitethatMarillathoughtshewasgoingtofaint.

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