through Lovers’ Lane would have been far too dangerous. But Roy and Christine
had made it very safe now. Anne found herself thinking a good deal about
Christine as she chatted lightly to Gilbert. She had met her several times before
leaving Kingsport, and had been charmingly sweet to her. Christine had also
been charmingly sweet. Indeed, they were a most cordial pair. But for all that,
their acquaintance had not ripened into friendship. Evidently Christine was not a
kindred spirit.
“Are you going to be in Avonlea all summer?” asked Gilbert.
“No. I’m going down east to Valley Road next week. Esther Haythorne wants
me to teach for her through July and August. They have a summer term in that
school, and Esther isn’t feeling well. So I’m going to substitute for her. In one
way I don’t mind. Do you know, I’m beginning to feel a little bit like a stranger
in Avonlea now? It makes me sorry—but it’s true. It’s quite appalling to see the
number of children who have shot up into big boys and girls—really young men
and women—these past two years. Half of my pupils are grown up. It makes me
feel awfully old to see them in the places you and I and our mates used to fill.”
Anne laughed and sighed. She felt very old and mature and wise—which
showed how young she was. She told herself that she longed greatly to go back
to those dear merry days when life was seen through a rosy mist of hope and
illusion, and possessed an indefinable something that had passed away forever.
Where was it now—the glory and the dream?
“‘So wags the world away,’” quoted Gilbert practically, and a trifle absently.
Anne wondered if he were thinking of Christine. Oh, Avonlea was going to be so
lonely now—with Diana gone!