"I'm sure they didn't."
"That's what Fred said when I asked him. He said all he was scared of was that I'd change my mind at the last moment like Rose Spencer. But you can never really tell what a man may be thinking. Well, there's no use worrying over it now. What a lovely time we've had this afternoon! We seem to have lived so many old happinesses over. I wish you didn't have to go tomorrow, Anne."
"Can't you come down for a visit to Ingleside sometime this summer, Diana? Before … well, before I'll not be wanting visitors for a while."
"I'd love to. But it seems impossible to get away from home in the summer. There's always so much to do."
"Rebecca Dew is coming at long last, of which I'm glad … and I'm afraid Aunt Mary Maria is, too. She hinted as much to Gilbert. He doesn't want her any more than I do … but she is 'a relation' and so his latchstring must be always out for her."
"Perhaps I'll get down in the winter. I'd love to see Ingleside again. You have a lovely home, Anne … and a lovely family."
"Ingleside is nice … and I do love it now. I once thought I would never love it. I hated it when we went there first … hated it for its very virtues. They were an insult to my dear House of Dreams. I remember saying piteously to Gilbert when we left it, 'We've been so happy here. We'll never be so happy anywhere else.' I revelled in a luxury of homesickness for a while. Then … I found little rootlets of affection for Ingleside beginning to sprout out. I fought against it … I really did … but at last I had to give in and admit I loved it. And I've loved it better every year since. It isn't too old a house … too old houses are sad. And it isn't too young … too young houses are crude. It's just mellow. I love every room in it. Every one has some fault but also some virtue … something that distinguishes it from all the others … gives it a personality. I love all those magnificent trees on the lawn. I don't know who planted them but every time I go upstairs I stop on the landing … you know that quaint window on the landing with the broad deep seat … and sit there looking out for a moment and say, 'God bless the man who planted those trees whoever he was.' We've really too many trees about the house but we wouldn't give up one."
"That's just like Fred. He worships that big willow south of the house. It spoils the view from the parlour windows, as I've told him again and again, but he only says, 'Would you cut a lovely thing like that down even if it does shut out the view?' So the willow stays … and it is lovely. That's why we've called our place Lone Willow Farm. I love the name Ingleside. It's such a nice, homey name."
"That's what Gilbert said. We had quite a time deciding on a name. We tried out several but they didn't seem to belong. But when we thought of Ingleside we knew it was the right one. I'm glad we have a nice big roomy house … we need it with our family. The children love it, too, small as they are."
"They're such darlings." Diana slyly cut herself another "sliver" of the chocolate cake. "I think my own are pretty nice … but there's really something about yours … and your twins! That I do envy you. I've always wanted twins."
"Oh, I couldn't get away from twins … they're my destiny. But I'm disappointed mine don't look alike … not one bit alike. Nan's pretty, though, with her brown hair and eyes and her lovely complexion. Di is her father's favourite, because she has green eyes and red hair … red hair with a swirl to it. Shirley is the apple of Susan's eye … I was ill so long after he was born and she looked after him till I really believe she thinks he is her own. She calls him her 'little brown boy' and spoils him shamefully."
"And he's still so small you can creep in to find if he has kicked off the clothes and tuck him in again," said Diana enviously. "Jack's nine, you know, and he doesn't want me to do that now. He says he's too big. And I loved so to do it! Oh, I wish children didn't grow up so soon."
"None of mine have got to that stage yet … though I've noticed that since Jem began to go to school he doesn't want to hold my hand anymore when we walk through the village," said Anne with a sigh. "But he and Walter and Shirley all want me to tuck them in yet. Walter sometimes makes quite a ritual of it."
"And you don't have to worry yet over what they're going to be. Now, Jack is crazy to be a soldier when he grows up … a soldier! Just fancy!"
"I wouldn't worry over that. He'll forget about it when another fancy seizes him. War is a thing of the past. Jem imagines he is going to be a sailor … like Captain Jim … and Walter is by way of being a poet. He isn't like any of the others. But they all love trees and they all love playing in 'the Hollow,' as it's called—a little valley just below Ingleside with fairy paths and a brook. A very ordinary place … just 'the Hollow' to others but to them fairyland. They've all got their faults … but they're not such a bad little gang … and luckily there's always enough love to go round. Oh, I'm glad to think that this time tomorrow night I'll be back at Ingleside, telling my babies stories at bedtime and giving Susan's calceolarias and ferns their meed of praise. Susan has 'luck' with ferns. No one can grow them like her. I can praise her ferns honestly … but the calceolarias, Diana! They don't look like flowers to me at all. But I never hurt Susan's feeling by telling her so. I always get around it somehow. Providence has never failed yet. Susan is such a duck … I can't imagine what I'd do without her. And I remember once calling her 'an outsider.' Yes, it's lovely to think of going home and yet I'm sad to leave Green Gables, too. It's so beautiful here … with Marilla … and you. Our friendship has always been a very lovely thing, Diana."
"Yes … and we've always … I mean … I never could say things like you, Anne … but we have kept our old 'solemn vow and promise,' haven't we?"
"Always … and always will."
Anne's hand found its way into Diana's. They sat for a long time in a silence too sweet for words. Long, still evening shadows fell over the grasses and the flowers and the green reaches of the meadows beyond. The sun went down … grey-pink shades of sky deepened and paled behind the pensive trees … the spring twilight took possession of Hester Gray's garden where nobody ever walked now. Robins were sprinkling the evening air with flute-like whistles. A great star came out over the white cherry trees.
"The first star is always a miracle," said Anne dreamily.
"I could sit here forever," said Diana. "I hate the thought of leaving it."
"So do I … but after all we've only been pretending to be fifteen. We've got to remember our family cares. How those lilacs smell! Has it ever occurred to you, Diana, that there is something not quite … chaste … in the scent of lilac blossoms? Gilbert laughs at such a notion … he loves them … but to me they always seem to be remembering some secret, too-sweet thing."
"They're too heavy for the house, I always think," said Diana. She picked up the plate which held the remainder of the chocolate cake … looked at it longingly … shook her head and packed it in the basket with an expression of great nobility and self-denial on her face.
"Wouldn't it be fun, Diana, if now, as we went home, we were to meet our old selves running along Lover's Lane?"
Diana gave a little shiver.
"No-o-o, I don't think that would be funny, Anne. I hadn't noticed it was getting so dark. It's all right to fancy things in daylight, but … "
They went quietly, silently, lovingly home together, with the sunset glory burning on the old hills behind them and their old unforgotten love burning in their hearts.
CHAPTER