Well I certainly got a reaction with my last chapter. I had warned a few people they'd feel sorry for Mrs Harmon by the end.

Thank you for reading and reviewing.

Avonlea

Dear Gilbert,

I am writing to you as a medical professional, rather than as my brother in law.

As you know I've been having some problems with Mother Andrews this year, you kindly gave me some advice when she was overly concerned with Sara and putting doubts into my mind.

Well it seems she had been having some problems herself and Father Andrews decided, along with Dr. Mustard that Mother Andrews could do with a spell away to settle her anxiety.

Gilbert, I never thought I'd say this about her, but I'm now worried about Mother Andrews. She was away for about six weeks, and has returned home, but when I saw her the other week, she was a shell of her former self.

I don't know where she had been sent away to. Neither she nor Father Andrews will say, but something is not right. Gilbert, if you have an overwrought patient, where do they get sent?

She is home now, but I'm still concerned for her. I think Father Andrews is keeping her a prisoner in her own home. I did see her briefly and it seemed, I don't know quite how to put it, as though she wasn't really there. Father Andrews took her away shortly after and she followed him up the stairs and I fancy I heard a door lock before he returned. Maybe it is my imagination, but it sounded like she was being kept a prisoner.

I don't know what to do, it just doesn't seem right.

With fondest love

Dora Andrews

/ . / . / . / . / .

Glen St Mary

Dearest Dora

I cannot comment upon the specifics of Mrs Andrews case, not only am I ignorant, but it would be unethical even if I did know anything.

I am sure that wherever Mrs Andrews was sent, she received the very best of care.

I remain your favourite brother in law,

Gilbert Blythe

Professional solidarity prevented him from saying anything to Dora, but Gilbert was uneasy. He had heard disturbing complaints about the Charlottetown Asylum which is where he sometimes sent his patients and endeavoured never to send any but his most intractable patients. He hardly thought Mrs Harmon was in that category, based on what Dora had reported to him about her behaviour previously. She might have been rather overwrought, but hardly insane.

If, as Dora intimated, Mrs Andrews was getting the 'quiet treatment', her sanity must be in question.

Rachel and the minister's wife Mrs Wilcox had come to tea at Green Gables, they were due a good chat. Since the weather was so lovely, Marilla decided to make the most of the warmth and serve it outside in the shade of the cherry tree. John left the ladies to it and rode to town to pick up the mail and pop into the mercantile.

Marilla was balancing the teapot, the side plates, the teacups and the biscuits on a heavily-laden tray, something about the arrangement was slightly off kilter today, which she picked up on as soon as she lifted it, she hesitated, getting her balance back.

Rachel called out, "everything all right there Marilla?"

"Yes, it's fine. I'll just be a moment."

Marilla backed away from the table and pivoted around to walk towards the back door. Then setting one foot in front of the other she made her way out to Rachel and Mrs Wilcox who were waiting patiently at the table set up in the shade. The door was open, so that was easy enough, but the ground was a bit uneven and of course, since she was carrying the tray, Marilla couldn't see exactly where she was going.

There was a slight dip in the path and without warning her ankle gave way and from there time went in slow motion; it was as if she were looking down from above watching herself fall. She tried to save the precious tea set, the one with the rosebuds that her mother had bequeathed to her all those years ago; paid for by the money from their very first harvest.

She had been upright and now suddenly she became closely acquainted with the lawn. It was longer than it should have been and the most incredible shade of green. She stared at it intently as though there were nothing else in the world as important. There was the green and then there was the pain; as her senses adjusted to their new situation. She came to lying on top of broken crockery with a very sore arm and hot water scalding her leg.

Rachel and Mrs Wilcox rushed over to see Marilla lying in the middle of the mess. "Mama's tea set," was all Marilla said, as tears pooled in her eyes.

"Never mind that, let's get you sorted out, dear," Rachel offered, she bent down to help Marilla to her feet, but Marilla cried out in pain. "What is it, where do you hurt?" Rachel asked quickly.

"Ow, my arm, my arm. Ow it hurts so!"

"Oh, Marilla." Rachel stood back up and assessed the situation. Marilla was lying face down, the broken crockery had cut her face, and it was obvious she had hurt her arm. Still she couldn't stay down there all day.

"All right, gently now, this will hurt, I'm afraid." Rachel and Mrs Wilcox gently turned Marilla over onto her back. Marilla cried out with the pain. At least at the end of it, she was facing the right way up and they could assess the damage.

"Is the teapot … all right?" Marilla asked, with a catch in her voice.

"The teapot?" Rachel was perplexed.

"Yes, Mama's teapot. Is it unbroken."

Of all things to worry about, "no dear, it's broken," Rachel replied sadly.

"Oh."

"I'll buy you a new one, I know that's not good enough. I do understand."

"No. Mama bought it when they first arrived here in Canada." Marilla tried to get herself into a sitting position, but she was too shaky, raising her head made her feel dizzy.

"Just stay down there for a bit longer. You've had a jolt. I'll help you up in a little bit," Mrs Wilcox advised.

The ladies conferred amongst themselves as to the best course of action. Rachel was unwilling to move Marilla, so she stayed sitting with her on the ground, surrounded as they were with broken tea things. Mrs Wilcox left them there and went to ring the doctor.

It had been a long while since Marilla had lain on her back for such a long time. It wasn't particularly comfortable. The ground was damp and she thought there were probably a few pieces of broken crockery under her. In addition the damp grass and spilt tea were making her cold even in the sunshine. "Rachel," Marilla softly called.

"Yes, what is it, dear?"

"Could you fetch me a blanket, please? I'm getting a bit cold down here."

"Of course, I'll just be a moment."

The blanket made her feel much more comfortable, or warmer at least. She could just make out Rachel and Mrs Wilcox conferring amongst themselves. They were worried about making things worse if they moved her. Marilla was helpless, so she just lay back and watched the clouds pass overhead. Somewhere far off a bird was calling, funny she didn't usually notice the birdlife. There was a stillness about laying there.

John returned home and was shocked to find them on the lawn together. Rachel hurried over and explained the situation adding that she had been unable to move Marilla and how worried she was.

Kneeling down, John examined Marilla. "Are you all right my love?"

"I tripped over, I've broken the teapot and I think, perhaps my arm too."

"Well, I'll get you back up on your feet. Rachel was finding that a bit difficult, weren't you?" John glanced up at Rachel and Mrs Wilcox for affirmation.

"Yes, dear. We couldn't manage it by ourselves."

John lifted her to her feet and gently held her by the waist, as they walked her back inside and they sat her down on the sofa. John knelt down to remove her shoes and she swung her legs over across the cushions. While they were waiting for the doctor to arrive, Rachel fetched some water and they bathed Marilla's face, wiping the blood away.

The doctor arrived after a while and Mrs Wilcox took her leave saying that she would return in a couple of days. Marilla described what had happened and Rachel filled in the rest. Doctor Mustard examined her all over, checking her arm, her head and the rest of her body. She was badly bruised under her clothes having landed heavily. "Mrs Blythe, I'm afraid we're going to have to cut your dress off.

"Oh dear, I do like this dress. Can't you manage it any other way?"

"No, I don't think so. I can't think of a way to get the dress off this arm without causing you terrible agony ."

Sadly, Marilla watched as they cut the dress, at least they cut it along the seams, so she could sew it back up afterwards.

"Now, I just want to examine your arm, tell me if …?"

"Ouch! Oh, that hurts." Marilla sucked in her breath and went pale.

"Mrs Blythe I'm going to have to reset your arm first and then I'll put it in some plaster of paris. Mr Blythe I'll need some hot water and also some cold."

While they were waiting, the doctor sat on the bed and had a chat with Marilla, "It must have been a nasty fall?"

"Yes, I was carrying the tray and I tripped over on the way to the table and I broke my mother's teapot. I think I'm sorrier about that than I am about this," Marilla nodded at her arm.

"I can understand, your arm will mend in time, but the teapot is irreplaceable."

"That's right. I can't buy a new one with the same history."

"We should do this in your bedroom, can you walk Mrs Blythe?" Gingerly Marilla stood up, feeling quite woozy and dizzy. The doctor caught her as she staggered. "You'll probably feel a bit unsteady since you can't use your arm to balance yourself. You will get used to that after a couple of days."

He called to John to give him a hand. "I think we might just carry her into the bedroom. Better than having her swoon. Now, I'm going to knock you out with some ether, Mrs Blythe."

"Is that necessary?"

"Well unless you want to be awake while I reset your arm? Trust me, you don't want that."

The doctor applied a few drops and they watched as Marilla's eyes rolled back in her head as she fell fast asleep. John shuddered and the doctor glanced back up at him, "I know it's disconcerting. She will be fine though."

He had John help as he pulled her arm straight and reset the bones, then they bent it at the elbow. Once they had the arm in place, the doctor applied the plaster of Paris, it was rather messy, so Rachel cleaned Marilla up afterwards.

"How much longer will she be out?"

"A little while yet. I gave her a good dose because I didn't want her waking up in the middle. I'll sit with her while she sleeps. Do you think I could have a cup of tea?"

John laughed, "if you had asked for any other thing."

"Oh, of course. Well, water then."

Marilla came to about an hour later feeling quite unwell. The doctor was well used to the reaction and had a bowl at the ready. Marilla was sick in it and he wiped her chin afterwards. "I'm sorry," Marilla apologised.

"Not at all, it's a common reaction to the ether," Doctor Mustard reassured her. "Now how do you feel?"

Marilla considered her situation for a moment, "I feel like I'm trussed up like the Christmas turkey."

"That sounds about right. Does it hurt?"

"It's achy and still pretty sore."

"I would expect so. The acute pain will settle down after a while. I'm going to give you some laudanum to help you sleep, Mrs Blythe. I'll be back in a couple of days to see how you're getting on," Doctor Mustard stood up and patted her on the shoulder before walking out.

"I can't thank you enough for your help, Doctor," John said as he fumbled for some money.

Keep an eye on her, please and I'll see you soon. She's going to need a great deal of help." He dipped his hat at John and Rachel and made his own way out.

"I'll be on my way too, John. Unless you'd like me to stay on for a while?"

"Do you mind staying? I'll get us some tea, oh."

"What?"

"The teapot," John said with a rueful grin.

"Ah yes, the teapot. How could I forget? Do you have another one hiding somewhere?"

"I'm not sure, she only uses that one. I'll have a rummage in the store room, just in case. I expect Marilla would like a tea too." John walked out to have a look.

"It's not going to be easy," Rachel called out to him.

"Easy?" John called back "Aha! I found one." He walked out carrying the spare teapot.

"Caring for her. She's going to be quite disabled," Rachel explained.

"Oh yes, I hadn't thought about it at all. She won't be able to do any housework," he poured the hot water into the pot and swirled it around to heat it first. Pouring that water away, he made the tea under Rachel's watchful eye. Once that was poured he took a cup into Marilla who was still looking a bit woozy in bed. "Here you go darling. I'll be back in a moment."

"Please don't go John."

"Of course not, I'll stay." John sat on the edge of the bed.

"Will you forgive me?"

"Forgive you? What on earth for?"

"For being so silly."

"Silly? What do you mean?"

"Falling over like that. It was so foolish of me."

"Dearest," replied John fondly, picking Marilla's unbroken hand up, "I don't recall any recriminations from you when I broke my leg the other year."

"Well it was slippery, that's different."

"No, it's not different. This was another accident. I'll be here. I'll look after you."

"It's not going to be easy. I've been thinking of all the things you need two hands for."

"You'll have to put up with my cooking," John grinned. "That'll be the worst of it."

"Oh dear," Marilla mimed choking.

"Indeed. I'll just see Rachel out, and then I'll be back for you my love."

"Please thank her for helping me."

Rachel poked her head in the doorway. "Oh, Rachel, I want to thank you. If it wasn't for you and Mrs Wilcox I'd still be investigating the grass outside. It's remarkably green, did you know?"

John saw Rachel out the door, thanking her for all her assistance. Truth be told the more he thought about it, the more terrified he was. He was in for a busy couple of months.