Anne drunk in the scenery. She dreaded meeting her grandmother and wanted to go back to Nova Scotia. Eleven was a terrible age to move at. At least we're living with mother's grandparents. She thought. There was time to find more kindred spirits before school started, she mused as her father drove on into the yard of a white house with a green roof. An elderly man came from the fields to greet them.
"Grandpa!" Anne heard her mother yell, swinging down from the buggy and into his waiting arms.
I love my little girl. Rachel became way too strict, and I will prevent any foolishness she throws at them. Matthew hugged her back. "it's okay. We've missed you, sweetheart." He brought her up to the old porch.
"Just as it always was. Does Grandma still make her famous current wine?"
"Yes. Just hopefully your girl has enough common sense not to accidentally get her friends drunk on it thinking it's cordial."
"I was eleven! How was I supposed to know it was the same color?" Soon, Anne and Walter joined them.
"Well give Anne the room you always slept in." Matthew continued.
"How are the Barrys?"
"They're well, and their daughter is the same age as Anne, I think."
Avonlea is buzzing with news; there's a redheaded girl coming with the Shirleys. I heard she's beautiful. Maybe when school starts, I'll try to get her attention. Gilbert mused. If she was anything like everyone said she was, the next year would be interesting.
Diana longed for a playmate. Oh how she hated being proper. It's the only way to please Aunt Josephine for those music lessons. I need to be a concert pianist! She needed someone her own age to confide in. Grownups were just so silly and didn't remember what it was like.