Right. I'm going to be insanely busy this weekend—especially making up homework, since I had to miss school to-day—so I'm posting while I still have a chance.

And speaking of examinations (see chapter title): If you happen to live in the California Bay Area, I advise you to stay off of the road for the next six months. "Why?" you ask? Because I've just recieved my driver's learning permit!

Even better, just STAY INSIDE. Please. I don't want to lose reviewers - er, I mean, readers. :D

-M.R.

Chapter Twelve: Examinations

ROMEO: A thousand times the worse, to want thy light.—

Love goes toward love as school-boys from their books;

But love from love, toward school with heavy looks.

-Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet

The Avonlea Queen's scholars studied long and hard through the next year, even unto the edge of death—that being, the beginning of spring, when new nature must needs be distracting one from one's Odyssey and one's geometry—and before they knew it, it was high time to journey to Charlottetown for the Entrance Examinations. Gilbert stayed with Moody and the Macphersons in their town house during this time. Moody was so nervous that one often found himself repeating the multiplication table to himself over and over and over again, to retain his sanity, or so he claimed.

"What sanity?" laughed Charlie.

Despite his own composure, as soon as the English examination papers were being placed in front of them Gilbert began to tremble. Supposing he didn't pass? Supposing his family had used their money for nothing? Supposing he came out after Anne and she used his stupidity as another excuse to avoid him?

"Please do not touch your papers till all the exams have been distributed, or they will be discounted completely," boomed a teacher endowed with a sonorous voice; Gilbert heard a pencil hastily being replaced upon some one's desk and glanced up.

The culprit, Anne Shirley—of course—was looking round to see if any one had noticed; when she caught Gilbert's eye he tried to give her a reassuring smile—then turned away guiltily.

Ever since the Christmas ball a year ago, Anne had been even more frigid towards Gilbert. He felt bad about rejecting her, even if his pride had been clamoring for retribution.

"You may now begin."

Gilbert filled out his name, place of birth, date of birth, place of residence, career goal, and the day's date before beginning.

Question ONE. Name the Tennyson poem in which Elaine, in love with Sir Lancelot du Lac, floats down to Camelot, dead, in a barge. Then summarise Lancelot's role in the poem.

Gilbert smiled ruefully to himself as memories of a spring afternoon and a handful of Mayflowers crowded his mind. Picking up his pencil, he began writing...

XXX

"I don't think I did so well on question One," groaned Charlie dismally as they descended the stone steps. "I can never remember poems. And then question Forty-Seven—the last of the Mohicans—I don't think I—"

"Charlie," laughed Gilbert, "it's bad enough having the test without you going over it afterwards.

"It was Uncas, by the way," he added as an afterthought.

"Oh no!" groaned Charlie. "I put Hawkeye down!"

"I'm glad they put in all the questions about The Scarlet Letter," said Gilbert. "I did rather enjoy that book."

"I got Hester Prynne and Percy Blakeney confused," said Moody miserably, as he came up behind them. "After all, they are both scarlet. How on earth is one expected to tell the letter A and a flower spy apart under pressure?!"

"I did," said Gilbert, and they all burst out laughing.

Charlie mentioned, at great length, the math exam which would be given the next day; which fact immediately started Moody in again upon the eleven-times table. Leaving Charlie to calm Moody down, Gilbert strolled leisurely, a little apart from them, across the lawn.

"Gilbert!"

Gilbert turned to see Miss Stacey actually running across the grass, waving her hat like a school-boy. "Gilbert," she puffed upon reaching him, "I'm so proud of you—every one, but you and Anne especially. The others are more into their math and science, or so they tell me—but I know I have two language-lovers, at least, which pleases me to no end. I hope you did well? I was afraid you were going to be sick—you turned a delicate green about half-way through the exam."

"I did all right," laughed Gilbert. "The delicate green occurred when I got to sonnet structure—iambic pentameter, spondees, dactyls, you know…?"

"Yes, I do know!" laughed Miss Stacey, who had warned them of her own struggles with sonnet structure before attempting to teach it to her pupils. "Well, I'm sure they won't count it much against you, as I doubt you'll need it much,—but it was in the curriculum they gave me, so I suppose they know what they are doing."

On the last day of the horrible week—the last day of exams—Moody and Charlie having gone ahead to set up a small party at the Macpherson's house, Gilbert walked in thought all the way.

He thought, he hoped, he knew he had done rather well, and could not wait to see the pass list. Gilbert wanted to be in at least the top fifty. He thought Anne would probably come out first of all the Island.

Just then, the object of his reverie came up before him in Mr. Barry's carriage with Diana and Mr. Barry himself.

"Hello there, Gil," said Mr. Barry. "You on your way home, too?"

"Oh, yes sir," replied Gilbert.

"Well, I wish we could offer you a ride," lamented the older man, gesturing to the carriage behind him which only fit two comfortably.

"Oh no, that's all right," said Gilbert graciously, "I'm meeting Moody at the station." He looked straight at Anne, and was absurdly gratified to see that she did not look away. "Anne—I wish you luck on the exam. I hope you come in first, you've…" he swallowed. "You've worked hard."

Anne blinked, then said, in a humble tone that truly surprised him, "Thank you—but I'm sure the first will go to you."

"Well," said Gilbert, at a loss for how best to reply, "…I guess we'll see, won't we?"

Anne actually smiled in concession. Mr. Barry cracked his whip, and the horses moved again.

Gilbert stood watching Anne's back and hair for a while, until she turned and looked at him, long and steadily, until the carriage was out of sight…