The next few days were not pleasant for Gwen. Due to either Aunt Persis' threats, or people's respect for Grandmother and Grandfather, she didn't hear any more open slurs or condemnation. That didn't stop mothers from hustling their children out of her way if she walked downtown (as though she had the plague!), or her former friends from turning on her. Even Fanny stopped dropping by Ingleside or inviting Gwen to her house!
Gwen had never suffered from an over-abundance of pride, but her friends' abandonment still stung. Couldn't just one person believe in her?
She couldn't even write about it all to Mother. The very thought of putting it down on paper, seeing those ugly words in black and white, made her shiver. Nor did she want to talk about it with Phil. He was her brother, and he would want to protect her, but there wasn't anything he could do, and he would just end up more distressed in the end.
So Gwen suffered in silence, and if there were times that her sore heart filled to overflowing and she had to run down to the shore to cry a little, well, the rest of the time she carried a smile and a laugh on her lips. Day after day, she told herself it didn't matter. Even if everyone in the Glen believed horrible things about her, she knew the truth, and those she loved knew it as well.
Besides, she would be going back to Kingsport in the winter, and then she needn't ever worry about these people again.
That didn't stop her heart from twisting every time she saw Fanny scurry around to try to hide from her in the village, or when Mrs. Douglas refused to let her enter the store one day when Van was working, or when she saw Chloe and Oliver walking and talking together.
It was almost painful to be at Ingleside after a while, where nobody knew about her troubles, and where Chloe and the twins were wont to drop by and smirk at her. Aunt Persis was so busy with her veterinary duties that she was rarely around, and so Gwen started spending more and more time with Aunt Ruth.
The sewing and cooking lessons with Lynde had dwindled away after the cousins had arrived; it just wasn't any fun anymore with Chloe always hanging about, waiting to make fun of them. Chloe never visited Aunt Ruth, though, and so before long Gwen found herself working side-by-side with her youthful aunt, learning how to make chocolate cake that even Lynde couldn't find fault with, and sewing herself a very pretty skirt out of some purple gingham Aunt Ruth had laying around.
Under Aunt Ruth's gentle tutorship, Gwen found herself actually enjoying the domestic work. Lynde had been quick and slightly impatient, given to taking over and finishing a task herself if she didn't think Gwen was doing it correctly. Aunt Ruth was merry and kind, and sympathized and laughed with Gwen over her mistakes, usually following it with a tale of something dreadful she had done once.
Emphatic Uncle Bruce was rarely there, but when he was he proved to be surprisingly kind under his fierce eyebrows. He also never made fun of Gwen's mistakes, but encouraged her to keep trying.
Gwen especially loved watching Uncle Bruce with the twins. He was so large and loud, but he let his two little girls crawl all over him, treating them with the utmost gentleness. It was the same gentleness he showed his patients—those who were truly ill. The ones who only thought they were were given a quick scowl and a gruff "You're fine, be off with you!" Uncle Jem had tried to train him to give everyone the same consideration, but eventually gave up. Uncle Bruce refused to coddle people with imaginary ailments.
It was, perhaps, one reason why Uncle Jem was the more popular doctor of the two.
One afternoon at the Meredith house, Rosemary Meredith even came over to spend the day "with the girls," as she said with relish.
"John is studying, as usual," she explained as Winnie fetched her a tall glass of iced tea and Ruthie curled up at her feet like a little dog. "And I did all the housework this morning, and was just sitting in that old kitchen bored stiff, so I thought I would come see what you all were up to!" She looked around with bright eyes.
"My, it is good to be back in the old place again. Ruth, you and Bruce have done wonders here. This used to be my home, you know," she explained to Gwen. "I lived here with my sister Ellen until I married Rev. Meredith. She and her husband Norman Douglas lived here after that, and when they passed on they left the house to Bruce. Norman always insisted Bruce was meant to be their child, anyway. He looked just like his Aunt Ellen, always!"
Grandmother Meredith had sleek grey hair that used to be golden, and large blue eyes. She was tall and willowy, and her voice was warm and soft. In short, nothing like Uncle Bruce.
"We're always glad to have you here, Mother Meredith," Aunt Ruth said. "Gwen and I were going to do some baking, but mercy! It's so hot, even up here with all the wind. I hate the thought of using that old black stove at all today."
Grandmother Meredith nodded. "This summer has been a terrible one for heat. Cold meats and garden vegetables for supper, Ruth—that's what I would recommend! Save the cooking and baking for another day."
"I think you're right," Aunt Ruth said, fanning herself. "On days like this, I envy you, Gwen, and Mother Meredith. You're so tall and slim—and here I am, round and short and dripping with perspiration!"
"Oh, you have a lovely figure, Auntie," Gwen protested. "Look at me—I'm just a twig. No shape at all."
"You both look lovely to me," Grandmother Meredith said serenely. From many women, that would have sounded patently false, but coming from her, it sounded sweet and utterly sincere. She was that sort of woman.
"What about us, Grandmother?" Winnie asked. "How do Ruthie and I look?"
Grandmother Meredith leaned down and kissed both their cheeks. "You two are darling, and always will be to me."
Winnie beamed. "Good. I like to look pretty, even though Miss Flagg told me yesterday during Sunday School that I shouldn't think so much about my looks, or else I'll grow up bad like my cousin Gwen." She didn't seem to hear the sudden, deathly silence that descended on the room. "I told her that if she said anything bad about my cousin Gwen I would slap her, and then she told me I was a very naughty girl. So I'm very glad you think I'm darling, Grandmother."
"Winifred," Aunt Ruth said in a warning tone.
Winnie looked around innocently. "What? Don't you think I'm darling, Mamma?"
"Don't scold her, Auntie," Gwen said in a low voice. "She doesn't know any better."
Ruthie didn't understand what was happening, but she sensed that Gwen was upset, so she got up from her position at Grandmother Meredith's feet and trotted over to curl up in Gwen's lap. And despite the heat, Gwen cuddled her close, grateful for the comfort of a warm, trusting little body.
"What on earth is the child talking about?" Grandmother Meredith said in amazement. "Why would your Sunday School teacher think Gwen is bad, Winnie?"
"Oh, because everybody says the real reason they came here this year was because Gwen was being bad, so Aunt Di and Uncle Jon had to invent a trip to China just for an excuse to send Gwen away," Winnie chirped blithely. "But I told Miss Flagg that she was an evil-minded gossip, just like I heard you telling Mrs. Douglas at the store the other day, Mamma."
Gwen was suddenly torn between laughter and tears. What a preposterous tale! And she could just imagine brave little Winnie standing up to her Sunday School teacher and mimicking her mother!
Aunt Ruth buried her face in her hands. "Oh Winifred, Winifred, what am I going to do with you?"
"Could someone please explain all this to me?" Grandmother Meredith said to the air.
Gwen didn't feel up to repeating the tale, but with a glance at her, Aunt Ruth filled Grandmother Meredith in on the bare details. Grandmother's face grew more and more stern as Aunt Ruth spoke.
"And people are not only believing this, but repeating it, in greater detail, without having any proof of the veracity of such a thing?" she said. "Well, I knew we had our share of gossips here in the Glen, but I didn't think any of them would stoop this low. To blacken a young girl's reputation like this, based on nothing more than a few false tales! Oh, I wish my sister Ellen was still alive. She would make their ears ring with some plain truths!"
"Oh Grandmother," Gwen said piteously. "Please don't go talking to anybody about this. I just want to act like nothing happened. Surely people will forget about it all in a week or so."
Grandmother Meredith shook her head. "Gwen, I wish I could accommodate you, but this is about more than just you. If people are allowed to gossip and lie and spread rumours without impunity, before long they will be saying anything, doing anything. Wickedness must be stopped, my dear. Truth must triumph over falsehoods. I'm sorry, Gwen, but I must do what I can to combat this terrible atrocity."
"What are you going to do?" Gwen asked fearfully. Grandmother Meredith was nowhere near as volatile as Aunt Persis, but Gwen thought she would be more afraid of that quiet authority than all of Aunt Persis' dramatics, were she an offender.
"I am simply going to talk to Rebecca Flagg first, and then Mary Douglas, and any others I hear of who are participating in this wicked behaviour, and remind them of what it means to love one's neighbour, and live in Christian charity. I shall, perhaps, ask Mary how she would feel if someone were to spread such lies about her daughter without any proof, and ask Rebecca the same, only about herself. Perhaps being reminded that you, my dear Gwen, are a living human being with feelings just like anyone else, will help them remember to curb their tongues."
She stood up decisively. "And if that fails, I shall ask them if they want me to bring my husband into the matter, to address this issue from the pulpit!"
"Oh, Grandmother!"
"Not to worry, child, it won't come to that. Most people in this village either adore or are afraid of my husband. Or both. The simple threat of bringing him in should silence them, if need be. Though I hope that it won't come to that, and that I may simply be able to awaken their consciences."
She bent down to kiss the twins again. "Goodbye, my dears. Thank you for a most enlightening visit."
With that, she swept out of the house, leaving Gwen and Aunt Ruth looking helplessly at each other.
"My," Gwen said at last in a small, awed voice. "I had no idea she could be so …"
"Forceful?" Aunt Ruth supplied.
Gwen nodded. "She always seems so meek and quiet."
"Those are the ones you must always watch out for," Aunt Ruth said. She looked down at her two, shy Ruthie and bold Winnie, and sighed. "Some days I think I'm watching the wrong one."
Things got marginally better for Gwen after that. None of her peers returned to being her friend, but the adults of the Glen started at least acknowledging her existence again. Mrs. Douglas went further than any of them, apologizing publicly to Gwen in the middle of the store, and promised her free ice cream soda from the pharmacy any time she wanted.
"I hold Rev. and Mrs. Meredith in higher regard than anyone else in the world," she announced loudly. "When Mrs. Meredith told me I wasn't behaving like a Christian, well, it stung, but I listened. And then when she told me to think how I would feel if people were saying things about my Lucy, I saw red. From now on, Gwen, if you'll forgive me, you'll always have a friend in Mary Vance Douglas, and anyone who wants to say anything against you will have to deal with me."
What else could Gwen say to that but that of course she forgave Mrs. Douglas? And truly, she did, though the sting of what the woman had said about her, and how she'd treated Gwen, remained with the girl for the rest of her days.
People had a tendency to overlook Gwen's feelings—Lee was so very sensitive, and Gwen was so very good at turning attention away from herself, that often people forgot that she had a heart, too. Which was why Aunt Nan and Uncle Jerry could tease her about her clumsiness and never think that they might be wounding her, and why Mary Douglas honestly had never thought about how her words might affect Gwen.
Affect her they did, though, and even after everything smoothed over, even though Gwen never mentioned it to Mrs. Douglas or Rebecca Flagg or any of the other Glen women, those few weeks of shunning and sneering left their mark on her. Never again was she to be quite so open, quite so trusting. Her lifelong belief that the whole world was full of people just waiting to become friends had been shaken irrevocably.
Now, she always wondered what people were really thinking about her, and it took her a long time to get to the point where she could trust someone enough to consider that person a friend.
All of which explained why, after leaving Flagg and Douglas, when Gwen saw Oliver on the road ahead of her, she turned aside before he saw her, rather than run to catch up to him and try to explain the situation, as she once would have done.
What if he listened to her and still didn't believe her? What if he wouldn't even listen? What if he hadn't believed it to begin with, but had just decided he didn't want to be friends with a pariah?
No, Gwen decided. If Oliver wanted to be friends with her, he could take the next step. She just didn't have the heart to try anymore.
Chloe was waiting for Gwen by the Ingleside gate. She, obviously, had heard of Mrs. Douglas's about-face, for her cheeks were flushed and her eyes filled with malice.
"Don't think you've won," she hissed.
Gwen thought of all the heartache she had endured in the last few weeks, of the friendships lost and illusions destroyed. How did this constitute winning? And when had she and Chloe started competing, anyway?
"I have lots more plans for you," Chloe continued, smirking. "And my brothers have some ideas in mind, too. Oh, it's not just you. You'll see. We're going to make all you Blakes sorry you came to the Island!"
Gwen's eyes narrowed. "Leave my brothers and sister alone," she said in a low voice.
Chloe flinched.
"You don't scare me," Isaiah said unexpectedly, materializing behind his sister. He glared at Gwen. "Chloe doesn't like you. That means Isaac and I don't like you. We are going to make your life miserable, and there's nothing you can do to stop us!"
And looking at his angry young face, Gwen felt helplessly that he was right.
She didn't sleep much that night, wondering what the Fords would do next. If destroying Gwen's reputation was just the first step, how much worse would the next one be?
In the morning, she sought out Phil before breakfast, before he could take off for Uncle Carl's as he usually did. Reluctantly, she told him all about what was going on with the Fords.
"We can't tell Lee or Jo," she said, "Or they'll just get upset and start spilling things to the adults, and then we'll have a fine mess on our hands. But I wanted you to be warned, at least, Phil. If we're both keeping an eye on them, hopefully we can keep them from doing anything too bad."
Phil stuck his hands in his pockets and fixed Gwen with a steady gaze. "Why didn't you say something before, Gwen?"
Gwen blushed. "It was so … ridiculous, and humiliating, and I didn't want you to be upset."
"I'm your brother," Phil pointed out. "I'm supposed to get upset when people hurt you."
"Yes, but you couldn't have done anything about it," Gwen countered.
"I could have done this," Phil said, and reached over to give her a firm hug.
Tears stung Gwen's eyes. It was nice to have a brother standing with you.
"Don't worry about Chloe and the twins," Phil said reassuringly. "They can't do anything too bad to us, not as long as we stick together."
Gwen hoped he was right. He hadn't seen Isaiah's face the previous night, though. That was the face of a boy who would do anything—absolutely anything.