the garden, and moonlight falling on the orchard, of the brook below
the slope and the spruce boughs tossing in the night wind beyond it,
of a vast starry sky, and the light from Diana s window shining out
through the gap in the trees. Here there was nothing of this; Anne
knew that outside of her window was a hard street, with a network of
telephone wires shutting out the sky, the tramp of alien feet, and a
thousand lights gleaming on stranger faces. She knew that she was going
to cry, and fought against it.
I _won t_ cry. It s silly--and weak--there s the third tear splashing
down by my nose. There are more coming! I must think of something funny
to stop them. But there s nothing funny except what is connected with
Avonlea, and that only makes things worse--four--five--I m going home
next Friday, but that seems a hundred years away. Oh, Matthew is nearly
home by now--and Marilla is at the gate, looking down the lane for
him--six--seven--eight--oh, there s no use in counting them! They re
coming in a flood presently. I can t cheer up--I don t _want_ to cheer up.
It s nicer to be miserable!
The flood of tears would have come, no doubt, had not Josie Pye appeared
at that moment. In the joy of seeing a familiar face Anne forgot that
there had never been much love lost between her and Josie. As a part of
Avonlea life even a Pye was welcome.
I m so glad you came up, Anne said sincerely.
You ve been crying, remarked Josie, with aggravating pity. I suppose
you re homesick--some people have so little self-control in that
respect. I ve no intention of being homesick, I can tell you. Town s
too jolly after that poky old Avonlea. I wonder how I ever existed
there so long. You shouldn t cry, Anne; it isn t becoming, for your
nose and eyes get red, and then you seem _all_ red. I d a perfectly
scrumptious time in the Academy today. Our French professor is simply a
duck. His moustache would give you kerwollowps of the heart. Have you
anything eatable around, Anne? I m literally starving. Ah, I guessed
likely Marilla d load you up with cake. That s why I called round.
Otherwise I d have gone to the park to hear the band play with Frank
Stockley. He boards same place as I do, and he s a sport. He noticed
you in class today, and asked me who the red-headed girl was. I told
him you were an orphan that the Cuthberts had adopted, and nobody knew
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