"Jem?" Nan's voice rang with surprise that particular moring, when she entered her brother's room and did not find him in it.

She looked around the little chamber, still expecting to see him somewhere; it was still so early! Where could he be? But his narrow bed was done carefully, making contrast to the crumpled pajamas, piling on the floor. The room had a rather queer look to it; it used to be full of ship models and sea treasures once, but recently it had begun to turn into a doctor's study, very much like Dad's downstairs. The desk was buried under Jem's notebooks; he had been cursed, as doctors are wont to be, with horrible handwriting and, to Nan, his notes were illegible for the most part. Thick coursebooks lay all over the place and, had Susan given her permission, Jem would have likely wangled for himself a skeleton to put in the spare corner.

"He left for the manse some time ago," Shirley informed her, appearing on the threshold; behind his back was his own room, spick and span, with a decided aviation theme. Shirley kept many airplane models which Susan dusted with patient devotion. "Faith invited him for breakfast. She said something about Mrs. Meredith forcing her to cook."

Nan nodded and laughed a little under her breath. It seemed that within three days, Jem had managed to convince Faith that he was as sociable as she could wish him to be.

She went down with Shirley to sit at the merry breakfast table. Ken Ford joined them; he had arranged to come and pick up Walter and the twins; they were to help him clean the House of Dreams and, of course, Susan wouldn't let him slip the meal. After they had almost done justice to Susan's perfectly poached eggs, the absent brother suddenly showed up, bursting into the dining room.

"Mother Dearwums," he breathed, propping heavily against the table, a glossy paper folded in his hand. "Is there anything you want to say?"

"Well- good morning, son?" Anne spluttered with some difficulty, at which Gilbert gave a humored laugh. The rest laughed, too- but they soon stopped to warily look at Jem, who flailed his arms quite franticaly.

"No- I meant- is there anything you have to tell us all? Any exciting news?" Jem went on asking, at which poor Mrs. Blythe blinked helplessly and shook her head.

Susan didn't want to forget her place, but she felt Little Jem had quite upset Mrs. Doctor's Dear. She took a deep breath to protest when she, even she, noticed that Jem didn't really pay attention to his mother. He was fixedly looking at Nan. The girl, in turn, was very busy trying to be overlooked. She nibbled her biscuit slowly, casting her eyes down to her plate.

"So," Jem picked up, "you didn't write anything- or had it published?"

"Not recently, no," Anne answered, beginning to smile over her son's investigation.

"A- ha!" he cried at the top of his lungs, causing her to drop the smirk at once. "I knew it seemed somewhat different."

"Alright, Jem, enough of that," the doctor felt the need to intervene. "Such amounts of suspense might be too much for your curious mother. What is it?"

"I'm afraid, Dad, that I'm not the one to ask. Maybe Nan here could explain it to us."

Nan's eyes wandered around all the faces. Then she shrugged her shoulders and nonchalantly sipped her milk. It didn't seem as if she was going to explain anything in the nearest future, so Di reached over, intercepted the paper and unfolded it impatiently.

"Boys Own?"

"It's Baby Bruce's. Check the short story section."

Di raised one eyebrow, but leafed through the paper.

" 'Children of the valley'," she read slowly. "The winning story of our recent competition. Written by- Anne Blythe!"

Now everybody turned to Nan, who was almost choking on her milk.

"We didn't even pay attention to the name at first. It was only later that Jerry pointed out that all the names began with the same letters as ours-"

Nan spluttered milk all about the tablecloth.

"Jerry's here?!"

"If he hasn't died laughing by this point, then yes, he came today with the early train."

Nan moaned a little, as everyone at the table left their seats to gather around Di's back and read. Only Susan remained where she was, fork and knife in her hands, but not in use. She seemed petrified; and there was a rather scandalized expression on her face.

"As if it wasn't enough for Mrs. Dr. Dear to write- and for Walter's contraband poetry!" was clearly written on her face.

"Nan, darling- how did this happen?" Mother lay her hand on Nan's shoulder. All her children hawked over the paper, shutting her out, so she resolved to interview Nan before reading.

"I- I wrote it back in Avonlea. I was feeling low one day and tried to comfort myself by thinking of our old, golden days- and it sort of came out. Then, I confiscated little Fred Wright's paper for reading it in class- and I saw the competition ad- but I didn't expect anything- and now-"

"And now," Walter cut in, "I do not only have a mother who's a published authoress, but also a sister."

"No pressure on your poems, huh?" Ken grinned at his friend.

"Look, Walt," Di patted some excerpt with fer nail. "Your name is William, and mine's Dorothy. Is that-"

"A Wordsworth hint, yes," Nan nodded her head. She smiled back at Walter, who positively beamed, but inwardly, she was writhing with uneasiness. They were all reading voraciously- Ken grinned every once in a while- and Susan was still appalled. "It's more of a reminiscence than a story."

She had never meant for them all to find out! It was such a plain, unfanciful little tale for children! How was she supposed to know that it would be published- and that, of all the boys in Canada, it would be Baby Bruce who'd buy this paper? And now Jem knew, and Faith and all of the manse folks-

"Did Jerry laugh at it very hard?" she asked Jem quietly.

"He did laugh a good deal- said he'd always known you'd be up to sandalize the Glen with something like it- but he liked it well enough; they all did. Although Faith said she'd never forgive you for calling her Flora."

"My only other choices were either Fanny or Fiona," Nan retorted hotly. "I'd like to see her writing a story with such alternatives!"

Di broke in her fit with an extatic,

"Auburn! You had my hair auburn! Why, Nan, I've always said you were the best twin I could ask for."

A peal of laughter rang over the table; then everyone fell silent, reading intently. Nan was twisting her fingers and perking up her ears to register every little laugh or a critical sigh. She was waiting especially for Mother to finish and deliver the verdict.

But Ken was the first to pronounce his.

"Well, Nantucket, should you ever fail to find editor in the future- you may safely turn to me."

Nan dissolved into a thankful smile.

"That's very kind of Canada's next press mogul to say," she winked at him slyly, "but I don't think I'll write anything else ever again. It's too exhausting."

"It would be quite a shame," Mother said, drawing herself up. Nan felt almost as if she was at Queens again, waiting for the results of her final exainations. She did well then- but now?

But Mother smiled her beautiful, honest smile, sparkles dancing in her lovely eyes. Di folded the paper and playfully smacked her lips.

"I like it," Shirley said; it might have seemed a very scant praise, but, coming from him, it was a compliment of the highest order.

The doctor cleared his throat and everyone turned to him, as to a patriarch of the family. He had been secretly choking with laughter for quite some time now, watching Nan bite her lips with an anxious look in her eyes.

"My family name has not been disgraced," he pronounced in a dignified manner, at which everyone broke into laughter. Mr. Blythe kissed Nan's forehead. "Good job, Princess. I've always been proud of my womanfolk- and rightly so! I must be going now- Alice Harper has apparently gotten worse again."

Here, the doctor sent his wife a significant look and his wife furrowed her brow just as meaningfully. All the young folks looked away for some reason; it seemed to them rather quizzical that people of their age should keep secrets and exchange meaningful glances in company. It was true that Mother and Dad- Uncle and Aunt Blythe for Ken- remained very youthful and sometimes behaved as if they had fallen in love just the other day. But, with all the pitilessness of nineteen- year-olds, they considered it a privilege of their own age.

"But there's a benefit- I have to go to Mowbray Narrows and my Di tells me they have a new and apparently divine milliner there," another chorus of laughter. "What would you say to a little reward by way of celebration, Nan- girl?"

Nan stood on her toes to see the photograph. Even having grown as rapidly as she had, she was still knee-high next to Ken.

"Maybe I shouldn't have encouraged you to become a journalist," she mused appreciatively. "You might have missed your calling."

They were in Rainbow Valley; they had tossed off the work at the House of Dreams much sooner than they had expected to and, quite naturally, split into pairs. Di and Walter had disappeared on another long ramble, and Ken and Nan sequestered themselves in the old, lovely haunts, ripe with the warm sunlight of the evening. Ken was snapping one picture after another, in a rapt frenzy.

He squinted his eyes and murmured contentedly with every shot.

"They're excellent- maybe even the best I've ever made. Now, turn your head, so I can take your profile."

Nan felt a bit stiff already; she had only asked him for a few shots, which she could send to Delia. Oh, but he was pleased and engrossed with his work!- she didn't want to interrupt him. And the photos were rather lovely; the sun made all the daffodils shine an even brighter shade of yellow and she fit in the framework with one flower tucked behind her ear, in her dress of yellow muslin.

"You look like a daffodil yourself," Ken indicated with a gesture that he wanted her to spin around. "And the light here is perfect."

Nan suddenly felt she could not take a moment more of posing. She languidly laid back on the grass and pronounced, with unshakable certainty,

"Everything is perfect here, Ken, can't you see? As if nymphs, the Leimakids themselves, bestowed the Valley upon us in a rare moment of generosity. I doubt there's any place in the world which could be more beautiful than this one here," she mounted on her elbows when Ken sat down near her, smirking leniently. "You can't but admit it, Ken."

"You won't see anything like it elsewhere," Ken did admit, looking right into her eyes, a meaningful note in his voice. Nan did not respond- but she did not look away, either. His eyes pierced hers for a long while, and finally he spoke softly- and very quietly,

"I read a poem recently, you know- it was in one of Persis's magazines- there was a very intricate simile built in it, something about a girl's nut- brown eyes which could, quote, 'bring a ravenous squirrel to satiety'. I almost laughed my head off- but now, come to think of it, the idea, however poorly expressed, might have had something to it."

He noticed, at this very moment, that in this light or maybe- in this valley- her eyes looked different; they turned lucidly transparent and golden, like two pieces of amber.

She cast them down all too soon, though. Oh, she knew that a blush had crept up her cheeks- she could feel the warm flush spilling on them. It was not an altogether unpleasant kind of warmth- but it made her uneasy. Oh, everything about Ken was so smooth and velvety- his dark, inscrutable eyes screamed 'romance' as if it was written on his high forehead!

Luckily, there was always a playful twist to his half- smile and some mockery about his eyes, which helped her dismiss his compliments with laughter. It was a very faint and coy little laugh, though.

Ken lifted his camera to catch it- but Nan sprang to her feet, turning her head in refusal.

"Oh, no, enough of that. Delia only wanted one picture of me to hang in her parlor- and now she could paper all its walls with these! Too much pudding will choke the dog," she took his camera. "Let me rather take a few pictures of you."

But it turned out that Kenneth did not look good in daffodils. He laughed long and hard when she told him that, but Nan stood with her brow knitted. This was just the thing about Ken- he might have looked for the melancholy hero of a romance, but he somehow escaped effeminacy. He had gotten to be very manly, with his father's tall stature and broad shoulders and the strength and independence, so typical for his mother. His popularity with girls suddenly wasn't as peculiar and incomprehensible to her as it had been just a few months ago. She frowned, displeased with herself.

She led him into the thinner part of the shrubberies, straight to the bubbling brook, and she chattered ceaslessly and inconsequently until they reached it. Ken managed to get some jokes in edgeways, though- and they set her off laughing gaily. He told her about Persis and Nan listened voraciously; they had not seen each other for too long a time!

He now behaved very casually and it was so pleasant- so easy to be around him! His compliments were like darts to her pride; she knew that too many girls had heard them before- and too many girls were to hear them in the future. But he probably meant them in a brotherly fashion- and she had read too much into them. He had meant them to please her only.

"Self-opinionated, vain goose," she thought of herself. "Just why should Ken think of a girl like me?"

To hide her embarassment- and a quaint little sting of resentment whose cause she could not unravel- she hurried to the murmuring springlet and plunged her hands in its icy water. She had not done this, too, for such a long time!

"Come, Ken," she beckoned him with an imperative wave of her hand. "There should be a cup of birch skin somewhere in those wild roses. Let's take a cup o' kindness."

"There isn't," Ken called to her from a distance, to which he had obediently paced.

"Well, then, make one!" Nan called back impatiently.

"Just how am I supposed to do that?"

He had surreptitiously walked up to her and the closeness of his voice started her to such an extent that she almost fell into the water. She mangled her wetted cuff and looked at him with facetious dismissal.

"You city- boy!" she said, shaking her head at him. The tone of her voice had nothing to do with earnest scorn, not in the least. But there was a distant air to her, as if some areas of life were inaccessible to him just because of this unpardonable quality of having grown up in a city. "Jem would never ask about that. And neither would Jerry."

Ken frowned and shrugged his shoulders.

"I'll manage," he said, bent over and cupped some water in his hands.

He was about to offer it to her- and she was about to burn with blush- when, thanks be, he tripped. He spilled the water, of course, at which she felt some relief; she couldn't have accepted it, but she also couldn't have refused. Now, she could even laugh impishly- and she did.

But- why didn't he get up for so long? Why was he still kneeling- why did his face wince like that?

"Ken- what's wrong?" she fell to the ground right beside him. "Is it your ankle?"

"Hm," he could only murmur to acquiesce, it seemed. But when she slipped her arm under his and helped him to sit, leaning on a fallen trunk, his face had softened already. "It's alright, Nantucket, just a cramp."

"I'm so thoughtless, hauling you around with a lame ankle- again! Oh, I should have known-"

"Stop making a fuss, woman," Ken snarled jokingly. "It's nothing, Nantucket, I'm telling you. Cramps come and go."

But Nan picked up her long skirt and dashed to the house; she must get someone- so they would make sure everything will be alright with Ken's ankle. She did hear him calling after her, but ignored it. A cramp! Comes and goes, indeed! Wasn't it just like a man? And what if his ankle exacerbated and he couldn't play football for another semester in Toronto, his first semester after finishing his B.A.? He would strangle her with his two bare hands!

Or, more likely, he would be very polite and magnanimous about it. At this thought, Nan flew even faster- and she reached Ingleside in a heartbeat.

However, she came across an unexpected hindrance. Jem was sitting on the porchswing, alone, with Faith only to keep him company! This was a valued rarity at Ingleside; an intimate oasis of time without half a dozen of people hanging about. She hated to break in, but she had to get someone! She resolved she would just breeze along to fetch Dad and she would lead him out through the back door. With the best of intentions, she smiled at them both in passing, and intended to quicken her step.

She was already at the doorsill when she felt a tug at her belt and a strong draw brought her to sit on Jem's knees. Faith laughed; Jem had grabbed the hem of her dress and pulled her back.

"What's the hurry, Kitten?" he asked laughingly- but his eyes were strange, as if- reproachful?

Nan didn't understand, but an amused voice spoke from behind her back this very moment- some explanation! She turned around, disbelievingly.

"Yes, Kitten, what is it?" Jerry Meredith asked, looking at her quite brashly. He was sitting on the other part of the porch, hidden behind a curtain of honeysuckle. That was why she had not noticed him, running from the Valley. He seemed comfortable in his wicker chair- and he looked more of his old jolly self; his black eyes not shooting darts at her anymore, and there was a humorous note to his voice, which she knew so well and which it'd lacked in Avonlea.

She stood transfixed, and also possibly gaped in sheer surprise. He seemed so- friendly!

But when he arched his thick brow in a playful expression, she haughtily tossed her head back. Oh- ho! Look at him now! What was he thinking? That it was up to him to decide when they were on friendly terms and when they were not? Oh, wouldn't she show him that she still had something to say on the matter! She nodded her head cooly- at which, to her rather reluctantly admitted satisfaction, he looked much meeker- and turned around to Jem again.

"It's Ken- or, to be more precise, it's his ankle. We were in the Valley and he tripped. I wanted-"

Jem didn't let her finish and leapt up from the swing with all the eagerness of a future doctor.

"Where is he?!"

"Right here," Ken said impatiently from behind his back. They all startled; appearing without a sound seemed to become Ken's new habit.

Faith laughed merrily and fled down the porch stairs to greet him. He gave her a quick hug, refused to be assisted in climbing the stairs and held his hand out to Jerry in a greeting gesture. Nan bit her lip, uncertain of what would become of it, but Jerry accepted it and smiled casually.

She heaved a little sigh of relief, but her ease was soon broken for Ken turned to her quite angrily.

"To go and make such fuss when I've told you it was a cramp," he shook his head at her. "Why don't you ever listen, Nantucket?"

Before Nan could repent of her sins, Di and Walter showed up, lured by the voices. They both greeted Jerry; but if Walter was genuinely glad, Diana was polite at best. She noticed the sulky air of one who had not yet called a truce about her sister. She and Nan were not the similar, twinnish sort of twins, but each would go through fire and water for the other.

"And I'm so sick even of everyone asking about it! I'll have to think more seriously about the placard with information I've told you about," Ken turned to the other twin. "Really, Di, besides Walt here, you were the only person who didn't ram it down my throat."

"Only because I think it serves you right," Di said matter-of-factly, dropping on the swing next to Nan. "I bet you weren't careful enough in that football game."

"Always the caring, mindful friend," Kenneth laughed freely; he liked Di very much for her sharp tongue. She wasn't as brusque as that Mary Vance, but boy, she knew how to give it to anybody!

"Yes, Carrots, none of your lip! Is that how you treat a guest, young lady?" Jem chided her.

Nan smothered a chuckle because she knew the fury which Jem's nickname engendered in her sister, and Faith laughed outright.

"Somebody hand me a school slate," Di snapped madly. "And to think I came to warn you! Dad's invited the Fields from Mowbray Narrows- and she's rather nagging."

As if by a spell, the door creaked and the young people cautiously turned their heads. But it was only Dr. Blythe, looking rather funny and out-of-place, bearing a trace with almond crinkles.

"Susan sends me," he smiled at the hodge-podge of young boys and girls occupying his verandah. He, too, greeted Jerry with a firm handshake, after he had put the trace down and the rest of the assembly launched themselves to its contents. "My congratulations, Jerry. I'm hearing you took the Cooper Price this year."

"I did, sir."

"I'm very glad for you- that will certainly unburden your father a lot. Although he cannot complain in this respect, since some of his children have been known to gain him generous convert parishioners," Mr. Blythe turned to Faith who shook back her thick, golden curls and grinned at him. Some people would have said that it was improper for minister's daughter to grin like that, but Dr. Blythe only smiled back.

"Word has it that you're going to study law. This is a good choice- it's a profitable as well as rewarding occupation. But, poor chap, I'm afraid Mrs. Marshall Elliot will never quite forgive for not becoming a minister as she had predicted!"

Nan didn't know what came over her to say what she said; it just came out by itself, and in a sneering tone.

"A minister, him! That would certainly be the day. He would argue with his congregation from the pulpit, giving people loads of irrefutable arguments, which would make them join Methodists."

As soon as the words were out, Nan's eyes grew big with terror. She crossed her hands over her mouth, but it was too late; she couldn't hold them back. Oh, what had gotten into her?

But- everyone laughed, even Dad who pretended to be cross, but soon had to give it up for a good hoot. And Jerry's laughter rose over all the others!

She didn't want to risk saying anything else that evening, though. She tucked her knees under her and settled herself on the porch steps. Shirley stepped out of the house with his quaint, quiet air and Carl jumped out of the Rainbow Valley to join them. Only Una was missing in their cheerful circle, but she wouldn't come; Baby Bruce wasn't feeling well. Jem was supposed to go with Faith to the manse to see him later.

"Well, Nan," Carl Meredith, who still had not deciphered Nan's glare from a few days ago, tried to mend his faces. "I haven't told you, but everyone in the Glen is curious about the number of proposals you got in Avonlea. I overheard Irene Howard with that Kirk girl- I can never remember what her name is- and they said you must have gotten at least one, for all your tricks and poses."

Everyone laughed light-heartedly, but with Nan not sparking with a retort and Faith sending her peculiar glances, they suddenly gazed at her in silence.

"Well, Kitten," Jem said pressingly- but still in a wary, joking way. "How many? Was it one only?"

Nan's silence spoke volumes.

"Why, Kitten, you don't mean to tell me that it's true! Somebody proposed to you?"

"What is so surprising about it?" Nan flashed angrily; but it was merely self- defence. She had hoped they would never have to find out about this- oh, didn't Carl Meredith have a streak! She was only glad Father had retired to the house; he would keep her locked up for a year or so.

"Why didn't you tell me?!" Jem positively roared. "I would have come and-"

"And beat him black and blue," Nan finished his sentence with a bored way. "That's why I didn't."

"Were there more?!" he was still at the top of his lungs.

"No," Nan pacified him, wearily still. "I've only had one proposal so far and that's just about enough for me. It was plain ridiculous, really- Faith can testify to it."

They were all stock- still. They had all had their innocuous little flirts- some of them harbored secret feelings. But- nothing like this!

"Aren't you forgetting about one proposal, Nantucket?" Ken asked suddenly and Nan turned to him with a shining face, thankful to the core of her being.

"It was more of a business transaction than a proposal, Kenneth," she laughed fondly at the memory. For Jem's sake, she hastily explained, "Ken and I have made a vow when we were- how old? ten or so- that if we didn't marry off by our thirties and if I learned to cook we would marry each other."

"We were very anxious not to bring our families shame with bachelorhood. And she was especially nervous with all the 'competition'," Ken ran his eyes on all the siblings, grinning.

"And if you could see the conditions he laid down! For we put down a whole agreement. All the things I would have had to learn- pudding- and meat pies- and monkey-faces!"

"But I promised you a new hat every month, remember?"

"Ever other month, and I had to bargain for it," Nan threw his erswhile stinginess back at him. "My, but I do hope you'll tie the knot before you're thirty, Ken- I would lead a life of woe with a husband like you!"

Her bright, playful laughter was interrupted as soon as it started to ring.

"You oughtn't to be over-particular, young lady," counseled a dire voice from inside the house. "If you pick and choose for too long, you'll find yourself pining for any port in a storm in the end."

All the young people raised their eyebrows at a distressing spectre of a lady, who stepped out to the porch, escorted by Mrs. Blythe. The elderly woman turned to her presently.

"She's one of the older girls, I presume," she said, her eyes slowly moving from Nan's toes to the crest of her head. She was tall and decidedly bony, with accusatory look in her black eyes and rigorously pursed lips. The nagging Mrs. Field, obviously.

Nan suddenly felt very inappropriate; even if it was funny that the stately lady should think she had spoken in earnest. She removed the now- dry daffodil from her hair and cast it aside.

"How old are you, girl?"

"Eighteen. Just a few months from being nineteen, more accurately."

"I was married at your age," Mrs. Field snapped, as if this wedless state was a deep, dark failing. "If you don't take care all your beaux will slip through your fingers. You'll mark my words one day, miss."

Mother looked at Nan significantly, begging her without words not to fly back at the guest. Nan forced herself to comply and the Fields soon left. Then all the young people could laugh all they wanted and Nan could stick out her tongue at the departing chaise.

As if nineteen was an age to think of marriage in earnest! Well, maybe, if one had what Jem and Faith seemed to have- they slipped away quite soon, to feast at Jem's secret spot for strawberries- it was as good an age as any other. But then- to think of marriage as a bargain and not a wonderful companionship which their parents- the Blythes, the Fords and the Merediths- shared! Such a decision should be honored- consecrated. But who could be that serious in the month of June, when the whole world was basking in the sun, when one could just stretch in her old hammock, make little garlands of honeysuckle and adorn Crumble's head with them and when Susan opened the window to call them all in, promising smells wafting from behind her.

They all piled in; all apart from Nan who bounced off the porch quite unlike the grown-up, marriagable girl. She wended her way to the Valley, thinking gladly of the daffodils gallore of which she could freely draw to garnish her room. Their smell was so sweet and intense, that it would feel like sleeping in a flower bud.

Jerry Meredith, overlooked because of the lush honeysuckle once again, sent a languishing look behind her. He marveled at her slender form, moving away with certain intangible, refined quality. He knew that people thought her proud and aloof for her way of carrying herself; but, for crying out loud, didn't they see how exquisite it made her look? Those never-slumping shoulders- her long, willowy neck and the dainty head which seemed to crown it- her slightly uplifted chin. Every gesture of hers was marked by grace and an uncommon kind of poise, which could not be calculated. There was, Jerry thought, something in her movements that made you think she never walked but always danced. Was he really the only one who saw it?

He remembered the admiring look he had seen in Kenneth Ford's eyes just moments ago. Apparently, he wasn't the only keen- eyed fellow in their bunch.

Then he rose from his seat and went inside, for Walter had been beckoning him; and Susan's roast smelled just too good.

He found her where he thought he would, in the little maple grove at back of the Valley. She had showed him that place a long time ago, back when it was still her moss- carpeted play house. These days, it was her hiding place to which she escaped whenever she needed solitude.

She sat in the grass, her tucked knees encircled by her arms. He pulled up the legs of his trousers and dropped into the lush grass next to her, propping his elbows on his knees and putting his hands together. She didn't move an inch, as if she couldn't even see him; she kept looking fixedly somewhere in the distance. Well, if she wasn't stubborn!

But then, he had not expected anything else. And, if he couldn't say he liked her behavior- for they were still not on speaking terms because of it- he had to admit he was impressed. Nan was never meek and mild in times like these- she would not yield to friendly accosts if she felt any resentment still. She would hold her ground and, in his eyes, it was quite admirable. She had a mind of her own and she was not afraid to fight for it; she was also too candid to hide a grudge if she bore one, even if it was petty. Apart from cussedness, of which she undeniably had a generous share, it took a good deal of independence or 'spunk', as Uncle Douglas would call it- and Uncle Douglas had a way of hitting nails on the head.

Moreover, he conceded, she was right in her grievance; he was clearly at fault here. And he suddenly felt a keen need to apologize- to make peace with her whole- heartedly, leaving no undertones. After all, for all her pride and obstinacy, Nan had a redeeming quality- she had never been known to hold a grudge against someone who apologized to her. They could reconcile, it was even quite likely!

He cleared his throat.

"I hope you won't hold against me that I do not come with a white flag," he ventured. "But they were nowhere to be found at the manse. I come in peace, though."

She still didn't change her position- or her intent gaze- but her mouth quirked amusedly at the corners. What a dainty little rosy mouth it was, too! But, there- he shouldn't be thinking about it; rather, he should go on with the apology since it seemed to be falling on good soil.

"I feel that I ought to apologize for my behavior in Avonlea," he took a deep breath. "It was unreasonable- I was being unreasonable, and I'm sorry for it, Nan. I didn't mean to-"

"Oh, Jerry, duck! Quick!" she tore her gaze off whatever it was that had kept her so preoccupied. "And, for pity's sake, be quiet!"

He was so surprised that he abided by both of her commands. But he had to ask,

"What's it all about?"

"Shh, you!" she put her finger to her mouth. "Be quiet or else you'll ruin everything. You could scare them off. I know," she admitted shamelessly, "that I shouldn't poke and pry like that, but I really only stumbled upon them by accident, and I couldn't resist a few more peeps. They look so right together."

"Who looks right together?" Jerry asked, falling into confidential whisper.

"Why, Faith and Jem, of course. Who else would tryst in our old Valley?" Nan said the words with a smile, but Jerry rapidly perked up his head. She grabbed his sleeve and forced him to bend again, her index finger aimed at him warningly. In the distance, half hidden by the shrubberies, Faith was giving Jem a wild strawberry- right into the mouth! Then he pushed some branches away, so that she could go through the thorny coppice unscathed.

When they heaved out of sight, Nan finally let go of Jerry and only then felt a bit of embarassment. But she was determined not to let it show.

"There, I've saved their tryst!" she was so self- satisified because of that achievement that he had to laugh. "Older brothers can be such nuisance! Why they always want to spoil such moments, I will never understand. What could you possibly do, Jerry, even if I had let you go up to them?" she asked with a caustic note to her voice.

He grinned at her, quite cunningly.

"Who said I would have gone up to them? I only wanted a few peeps, that's all," he said, teasingly. He was used to this tone with her and he had mastered it, but his confidence only could only make Nan smirk. Two can play at that game.

"I highly doubt that, since it doesn't sound like the overbearing, overprotective brother I've known you to be," she shot back and shook her head decidedly. "Not at all."

"Oh, I've learned a lot since then," Jerry protested. "Let me present my train of thought. First of all, I consider Jem an honest man of honorable intentions."

Nan sat back, propping on her arm and laying her legs together on one side. A flurry of excitement manifested itself by a well-known tingling in her fingertips. She tilted her head expectantly; this promised to be an interesting conversation. Her lips seemed to smile as of themselves; she had to put a lot of effort into forming a focused expression.

"Secondly, I'm sorry to say that my leadership in the past had not brought much good to this sister of mine. A week of attending school in colorful stockings has left her slightly traumatized, I'm afraid. This, in turn, is linked with my third point-"

At this point, however, Nan giggled and waved her hand dismissively. He was so funny, in mock solemnity, when his eyes flashed with laughter!

"Oh, stop it, Jerry! You'll have time to practice such speeches in Kingsport; give it a rest now, over the holidays."

"No, let me finish. Thirdly, even if I wanted to be protective, I wouldn't have the clear field Jem enjoys with you. Faith wouldn't be quite as obedient- why, I think she could smack me- or, worse still, she could complain to Uncle Douglas! Then I'd consider myself in deep water. Therefore, to the mutual advantage, I let her slide."

Nan clapped her hands facetiously, all the while biting her lips not to laugh.

"And finally," Jerry put up his finger, as if to accentuate his last point, "Faith hasn't caused half the nuisance you bring about," he said insolently. "Here's an example- it was you, and not her, who had induced somebody to propose. I'd say, then, that Faith doesn't need my surveillance as much as you still require it from Jem. At which," Jerry bowed his head, "I rest my case."

Nan sprang to her feet and stamped her foot on the soft grass.

"Jerry Meredith! I don't want you speaking of that proposal ever again! It's no laughing matter, as I was quite upset by it- and none of your concern, if I'm honest."

At the haughty, distant note to her voice, Jerry shot up, alarmed.

"Nan, I was just teasing," he said emphatically, catching her by the arms and shaking her a little. "I promise not to do it any more, but you- don't get mad. Not again."

"You shouldn't make promises which you can't keep, Mister Meredith," she retorted, but the unfriendly undertone was gone. She sat back again. "It won't be a quarter and you'll be making fun of me with your all might. But I've grown used to it."

Which was Nan's way of saying that she liked being exposed to it.

"Now you're hurting my feelings, Miss Blythe," Jerry fell into her exaggerated mockery instantly. "I'd like you to spend some more time with me now- and see for yourself that I can refrain from picking on you for at least half an hour! And a good opportunity presents itself, as Una's sweet cherry tree bore fruit for the first time this year."

Nan hesitated; she had planned to walk Ken home to make sure his ankle would not bother him. But he knew the way, after all- and he said himself that it was just a cramp!

She stretched out her hands and Jerry helped her up. They exchanged bright, honest smiles and headed for the manse. When they were to emerge from the Valley, Jerry took a step forward and held some branches away for her.

Nan stopped for a moment- she observed him demurely. Then she said,

"Apology accepted," as she walked on the cleared path.

And her words were only seemingly unrelated.

here it is- another giant. I don't know what's gotten into me to write such long things; it's probably the ending vacation. can you see where I'm going? I hope that it's at least slightly visible. I'd love to hear what your assumptions are! I hope to finish the story by October, but this is a very faint hope.

once again, thank you for all the lovely reviews! they are so very appreciated.

LOTRlover, thank you so, so much for what you wrote. first of all, I was plain deliriously happy when I read you liked my portrayal of Nan, as she is always my priority. secondly, I'm glad you found Nan and Jem's talk realistic; especially with what you wrote about your own brother. and I hope you'll be seeing him often enough. :-) and thirdly, I'm glad you didn't dislike Ken. I was slightly apprehensive about it- but he is a flirt, as you rightly wrote. as for the pairings- I may try to tie in some, just a little of Faith and Jem, but I'm not sure about it; I wouldn't like it to come out unrealistic. as for Walter/Una I do like them together, but reflecting Walter's poetic ways is a bit too much for me, I think; I'm not that good with the language. I do hope you can forgive me!

IMPORTANT

Alice Harper and Mrs. Field both belong to LMM. the latter was as much as mentioned in her 'The Blythes Are Quoted', so I 'utilized' her. the situation which takes place is also taken from the book, hence the underline in her speech. the other underlined part is a quote from 'Rilla of Ingleside'; there it refers to Rilla, but I indulged myself and used it for Nan.