When Mrs. Scheper was safely out of sight, Gilbert turned to Marilla. "I...I don't know what to say," he began. "I told Anne she could use my name, but I didn't know-"

"I'm going to take him home," Marilla said, interrupting Gilbert, and taking Walter by the hand. "You can sort out what's what. Tell Anne I'll speak to her when she comes back."

Marilla did not sound happy.

Gilbert couldn't blame her. He wasn't feeling too happy with Anne at the moment either. He went back to his father's room and tapped hesitantly on the door. "Anne?"

Anne was still huddled by the door, not wanting to see anyone. She was so embarrassed. She felt like crying. But finally she got up off the floor and opened the door.

"Anne," Gilbert said upon sight of her.

His tone of voice made Anne start to cry.

Gilbert's face changed and he reached out for her, enveloping her in a hug. "I'm not mad at you," he said softly, squeezing her to him. "I'm not. I just…" He trailed off, then laughed. "It would have been nice to know if someone's going to show up expecting there to be trees in the parlor…"

Anne couldn't help laughing a little bit at this.

Gilbert pulled away from her, stroking her hair, looking lovingly at her. "You really got carried away, didn't you?" He said. "I'm sorry none of it's true. But we could make it true. You can paint a mural...and we can bring in plants..."

Anne shook her head. "It doesn't matter if we do any of that...I don't think it'll make a difference. But thank you."

She wiped her eyes. "I better go home."

As she walked off, Gilbert thought about how she ought to have those things- her own house, to decorate any way she wanted, with a nursery for her child...and a ring on her finger.

He didn't think he could take another year of being apart from her. Queens had been different; he could come home on the weekends. Redmond was too far.

...Should he do something else? He could farm- he had a farm. It would be easy enough. He could stay home, and they wouldn't have to be apart.

But he wanted more: College, medical school, and a career making sick people better. And most importantly he thought he could offer his family a better life that way.

He could not drop out of college.

But this just wasn't working.

Anne slipped quietly in through the door and tried to make it upstairs without anyone noticing she was home. She just wanted a few minutes to herself, to think, before she had to face Marilla.

But Walter wouldn't allow her that.

"Mama's home!" he cried out gleefully.

Anne stopped on the stairs, a feeling of dread resting on her shoulders the moment Marilla came into the room.

"Come down here, please," Marilla said.

Anne did.

"Do you have anything to say for yourself?"

"Please don't make me stop writing, Marilla," Anne begged in a rush, tears coming to her eyes again. "I know it's wrong to tell a lie, but-"

"A lie? As if there was just one?"

Seeing Anne cry, she softened a bit. "Come and sit down."

Anne, seventeen, felt like she was a little child again, about to be scolded. She tearfully repeated herself: "Please don't make me stop writing…"

"I'm not going to make you stop writing," Marilla said, put out. "But I don't understand why you kept this a secret from us. We'd be proud of you being chosen to write for a magazine! It's certainly nothing to hide!"

Anne wiped her eyes. "I was embarrassed because it's about being a mother...I didn't think you'd approve- because I have to lie. ...I have to, Marilla! I can't even use my own last name. I had to use Mrs.!"

"Yes, I know," Marilla said calmly. "I understand. I don't like you lying, but I do understand."

What Marilla did not understand was why Anne was crying. "There's nothing to cry over," she told her, as if Anne was being ridiculous.

"You have no idea what it's like to be unmarried!"

"I don't?" Marilla asked, a touch amused.

Anne explained, "Marilla, I hate not being married! I mean, it isn't even that, exactly. It's being a mother without being married. It's awful. And maybe it wouldn't have to be so awful if everyone didn't make it awful!"

Marilla patted her hand. "I understand, Anne, but the facts are the facts. Did Gilbert know about all of this?"

Anne shook her head. "He's the one who came up with the idea of me being Mrs. Anne Blythe. But no, the rest of it...I didn't tell him...I didn't tell him about any of my lies." She took a deep breath. "He kept asking if he could see my column, and he wanted to subscribe to the magazine just to see me in it, but I...I kept putting him off. Now he knows why."

"Was he upset, after I left?"

Anne bit her lip. "I could tell he was unhappy with me. But he didn't show it very much. He told me we could make the lies true and they wouldn't be lies anymore- I could paint on the walls, and bring plants in to make it look the way I wanted."

"He cares a lot for you, doesn't he."

It wasn't a question.

Anne felt like crying all over again. Gilbert did love her. She'd put him in an awkward situation, but he got over it quickly and had tried to comfort her.

Marilla cared for her, too. Anne realized that Marilla could have outed her to Mrs. Scheper. She could have made Anne come out of the room and confess to Mrs. Scheper that it had all been a lie and made Anne apologize to face to face. But she hadn't. Marilla and Gilbert had both covered for her.

Looking at Anne, sniffling and rubbing her eyes, Marilla said, "But I think seventeen is awfully young to get married."

"I was awfully young to have a baby, too, but that still happened."

There was a silence.

Marilla tried to sound comforting. "I understand perfectly that being an unwed mother is an difficult position to be in. But you ought to get married for love, not just to avoid discomfort!"

"We do love each other," Anne whispered.

"I know," Marilla said softly.

After a moment of quiet, there being no way to fix the situation, she said- smiling a little bit- "I noticed Walter pretending to read."

"That's because he can't do it," Anne said, a shuddery breath escaping her.

"But you may have found the way he learns best, Anne!" Marilla said encouragingly. "Now, maybe he hasn't done very well with things on paper, so far- but he can remember things he hears."

"I guess so," Anne shrugged.

"Mrs. Scheper wanted to know if you and Gilbert were going to have any more children."

"We can't," Anne told her. "We aren't married."

"Well, I don't see that there's much else to discuss here," she said. "Dry your tears."

Anne impulsively leaned in and hugged her. Marilla, always taken by surprise when she was hugged, pressed Anne to her in an embrace.

Anne got up and started for the stairs, intending to wash her face.

"Anne?" Marilla called back to her. "There's just one more thing."

Oh, no, Anne thought. "What is it?"

Marilla smiled. "Could I read it?"