Anne was afraid Marilla would not like this. But Marilla commented softly, "He's very thoughtful." and then she seemed to need to clear her throat suddenly, and ushered Anne ahead.

"Wouldn't you be more comfortable carrying one bag in each hand, like I'm doing?" Marilla asked as she and Anne boarded.

Marilla had her own bag in one hand, and Anne's bag of baby clothes in the other. She had taken these because they were the fuller of their luggage. Anne was carrying her own lightweight carpet bag and the empty baby basket, because these were the lightest items- but, Marilla noticed, she was holding them both together and in front of herself, as if to try to hide her belly. Anne shook her head resolutely, and Marilla sighed, deciding not press the issue. She knew Anne was not going to carry them any differently. "Well, let's get to our seats quickly so we can wave to Matthew," was all she said.


"I'm glad we decided to leave the baby's bed at home after all. I prefer traveling with just our few bags. It makes things less complicated," Marilla commented once the train was rolling along the tracks

"I didn't decide to leave the bed home," Anne said grumpily. "You did. I thought we should have brought it with us.'

"Anne, if we bring the baby home, then there'll have been no point in hauling that bed around."

"We might not be bringing it home," Anne said.

Anne looked like she was going to launch into a speech.

Marilla cut her off before she could start, saying, "We can just as easily send the bed to the people by mail, through the post office. After all, it was delivered to us that way."

"And the books, too?" Anne asked sadly. "You made me take those out of my bag! And I wanted to bring them for the baby…What if I mail them to it, and the post man brings them, but it's raining, and he drops them in a puddle, and they get all wet and soggy, and then they get mildew, and then when the people open them they're all tragically ruined, and the baby never gets any books at all, and because it doesn't have any books, it might never be read stories, and-"

"Anne," Marilla said calmly. "Perhaps you could take them in person. We could see about making a visit, sometime later."


Later, a lady with a cart came by. Anne had drifted off into a light doze- but Marilla, glancing at her with a small smile, asked the lady what their dessert options were.

The lady returned a short while later, and Anne was pulled from her doze by the aroma of something.

"Time to wake up, Anne," Marilla said softly.

"What is it?" Anne asked, looking around.

"I think our dessert is coming down the aisle," Marilla told her, hearing a cart rolling and the delicious scent getting closer.

"Our dessert?" Anne rubbed her eyes.

"You didn't think I'd forget that today is Tuesday, did you?" Marilla asked.

"Marilla! You...I'd forgotten! How perfectly, wholesomely, thoughtfully kind you are to remember! Oh, it's positively thrilling to be served a heavenly smelling dessert on a train!"

A pleased flush filled Marilla's face. But she said only: "Well, you'll have to try not to chatter on too much, or the ice cream on top will melt."

"Ooh- what is it?" Anne wondered, turning around in her seat as the lady stopped in front of them and lifted the lid over the cart.

"It's called a Brown Betty," the lady told her with a smile, placing a bowl in front of each of them. "It's an Appalachian recipe."

"How delicious a word- Appalachian- it's a word as delicious sounding as the dessert! Thank you...Caroline," Anne said, looking at the lady's name badge. "Oh, what a pretty name. It sounds so musical."

As they ate, Marilla asked, "How do you feel? I was concerned that the train trip would make you nauseated."

Anne thought a moment. "No, I'm all right. ...You know, when we left, Gilbert told me his father would be good as new and up and about when we come home." Anne's face was troubled. "I want him to be, but he looked so bad off today...and I think Gilbert knows that...Marilla, sometimes I think he doesn't tell me the truth. I don't think he means to lie to me, exactly, it's more…he doesn't want me to feel scared so he tries to tell me everything's going to be fine…but I know he's worried about things, too."

"He wants to protect you," Marilla stated.

Anne thought about this, then slowly nodded. "I guess he does, yeah."


"What's a boarding house, anyway?" Anne asked a short while later. "Is it like a hotel?"

"A little bit," Marilla explained. "But for longer stays, like us. And often people live in boarding houses all the time, instead of renting an apartment. Young men working in cities often live in them because meals are all provided- it's included in the rent- so they've no need to try to cook for themselves. Oh, I hope ours won't be full of men..."

"Do women ever live alone in them?" Anne asked curiously.

"Yes, if a young woman is working away from home, she'll usually stay in a boarding house because it offers some protection for her reputation."

"What do you mean?" Anne wanted to know.

"I mean because boarding houses are usually run by women, and they're a bit chaperoned," Marilla explained. "If a woman lives in an apartment building, she might develop a...reputation. But living in a boarding house ensures people won't think she lives an unchaste lifestyle, because in a boarding house she wouldn't be allowed to have men in."

Then Marilla had a thought: "Oh, dear- we should have looked for one that only had women in it. What if we get one that's full of vagrants and thieves?" Her face changed with worry.

Anne smiled. "Women could be vagrants and thieves, too," she pointed out.

"Anne," Marilla said with an exasperated shake of her head. "If you haven't anything useful to say, then hold your tongue."


But Marilla would not need to worry. The boarding house was run by a widow and her grown but as yet unmarried daughter. They also had a young man they'd hired to carry luggage, take shifts at the desk, and handle various odd jobs around the place. The people who stayed in the boarding house seemed to be respectable people who worked in nearby factories, and there were even a few young families who were staying in the boarding house until they could save enough to afford their own home. Marilla would be happy to discover, over time, that no matter what kind of colorful expressions she heard out on the streets, there didn't seem to be anyone in the house who used coarse language.