Timeline - Jump forward a few months for the term break around Christmas. This chapter would occur before Chapter 8 in Anne of Windy Poplars, The First Year.

Chapter 6: Gala

Gilbert Blythe donned his lab coat over his button-down shirt and trousers at the front desk of the hospital. He was late for rounds with the third year interns, where today his only job was to observe. He completed his practical exams earlier in the week and was glad that he wouldn't be called upon to answer more questions. As it was, he could barely keep his eyes open. The last week had been a series of final exams and late night reviews with a myriad of other students, including his own roommates Eugene and Marcus. All three of them were short on rest, as they were all trying to win the Excellence Award for their class and had studied themselves sleep-sick. Punctuality was a factor in the award; although with the winter ball and awards ceremony scheduled for that night, Gilbert told himself that the winner was already decided and being late would not matter.

He darted around the corner of the maternity ward straining his ear for the voice of Professor Dr. Strickland. Gilbert saw a school of white-coated medical students through the small window at the front of the pediatric ward. He straightened his tie and collar as he joined the others around the bed of a little girl Gilbert had come to know. Red-headed, pig-tailed Suzette shared her bed with another child, who was quietly hiding under the cover.

He brushed back his brown wavy hair as his roommate Marcus Trimble lampooned his tardiness with sarcasm, "Glad you can make it today."

Visiting the pediatric ward was always the first stop, as it was the most distressing. It was also the ward where they wanted to do their best work. Nobody liked seeing sick children in terrible states of pain and trouble.

Little Suzette had been plagued with dizzy spells, bruises, and lethargy for several months. She would seem to be better, and then have an episode at home, and be brought right back into the hospital. No one could understand what was wrong with her until someone analyzed her blood under a microscope. The results were grim and tear producing. Gilbert had also witnessed the supervising physician tell her parents that their daughter's condition was terminal. She would die. It cut a hole in Gilbert's stomach as he observed the mother collapsing into her husband's arms. Grief was already upon them. The couple offered prayers in French, invoking the names of Joseph and Mary.

He felt an affinity to this Canadian-French girl from the first, because of her red hair and hazel eyes. Would this be how his own little girl would look one day? Only, she would have other traits, such as Anne's fine nose and the Blythe legacy? It was harder than Gilbert expected to stay objective to the task of medicine.

The Intern-in-Chief said something to Suzette about being brave, and with luck, she could go home for Christmas. Gilbert swallowed knowing that 'going home' meant going home to eternal rest. Her chart had been passed around and Gilbert had read her dire diagnosis, leukemia. Maybe one day in the future science would provide successful treatment. Suzette's only chance today was Gilbert's healing powers.

She focused on Gilbert because he was not scribbling notes like the others and because she remembered his kind face. Gilbert winked and she sat rigid in response. The class wandered off to the next patient but Gilbert loitered at her bed to reassure her.

"Hello, you remember me, right? I'm Mr. Blythe," Gilbert heard himself say, holding out his hand.

Suzette didn't say anything back but reached to shake his hand. Gilbert used his healing powers to sense the extent of her condition as he took her little hand. The energies built up under his skin and warmed hers with a gentle probe. She did not question the sensation. She was still too young to know perhaps she was feeling something amiss. Gilbert definitely felt a vocation to try and help, but he wasn't sure if he was powerful enough to stop the Great Destroyer. As gifted as he was supposed to be, and even with Anne's constant and consistent love, he knew his abilities were still broken.

"I like your pretty red hair," Gilbert voiced as he checked his pockets for candy. He did not want her to see his eyes just yet. "I have a girlfriend whose hair is every bit as red as yours."

Suzette blinked her hazel eyes and whispered, "I used to hate it so much."

"Here, have a peppermint," Gilbert smiled, remembering many a lecture from Anne about why red hair was so intolerable, "Why did you hate it?"

"Red is ugly."

"Oh, no," Gilbert said. "Red can be really pretty! My Anne-girl is coming to see me tonight. We're going dancing. Would you like to meet her so you can see?"

Her big eyes blinked "yes".

Hold on, Suzette.

If he was going to heal her, it would be today, with his confidence standing next to him. Gilbert saw that the class was moving on to the geriatric wards. Apologizing for leaving, he told Suzette, "All right, I'll see you again soon."

Later on that morning, Gilbert found himself at the docks to greet the ferry Anne and Mrs. Lynde had booked from Summerside. The weather had turned warm, so much so Gilbert thought he could take off his woolen coat as he stood near the dock. He watched the frigid, gray waters churn and ruffle as vessels scored the surface of the straight.

Folks were out on the pier, rejecting cramp waiting rooms where gentlemen smoked cigars and pipes. He had difficulty seeing through the constant moving throng. Eventually, a ferry named Kaleidoscope made its way to shore and he saw them. Gilbert felt the corners of his mouth move up to his ears seeing Anne on the deck, with Mrs. Lynde, waving hello at his sight. She practically ran off the little ship to be near him. Such was their exuberant embrace that several stopped and watched them, almost applauding the reunion as Gilbert swung her round in a circle.

"Oh, God," Gilbert said in her ear so that only she could hear, "How I love you, Anne!" He brushed her face and kissed her hands. He would have kissed her outright on the lips if it were not for a complete lack of privacy. How had he existed without her these last four months? He didn't know he was a creature starving for her affections, but he was. He was famished. His Anne-girl was in his arms again, more becoming than ever.

He looked at her closer, "You've cut your hair?"

"Yes, I have," Anne said. "I cut a bang, do you like it?"

Gilbert rubbed her face again and smiled, "It suits you. I can see your eyes so much better."

"I'll take that as a 'yes' then, Mr. Blythe."

By this time Mrs. Lynde had strolled over to Anne and Gilbert, and Gilbert could see that the wise, old lady had shed some weight, so much so that he was slightly alarmed. Anne had not mentioned this in her letters. Mrs. Lynde was outspoken as ever. "Well, Gilbert! I suppose you have a cab ready for us. I don't fancy standing around with pick-pockets every-which-way."

"Mrs. Lynde," Gilbert responded whilst bestowing a kiss on her hand. He sensed nothing through her glove. "Thank you for chaperoning Anne, I can't tell you how appreciative I am. Give me your luggage tickets and I'll get it all squared away."

He had booked a suite for Anne and Mrs. Lynde at the hotel where the gala was to be held. It was a very expensive room, but after some correspondence with Anne, they decided to take on the expense. Anne said she would pay the fare for the ferry for both herself and Mrs. Lynde's travels and half the hotel bill. The next day Gilbert would join them and board the ferry back to Prince Edward Island together for the Christmas holiday. They would forgo expensive presents and improvise gifts from the heart to save money.

Gilbert was taken back at the opulence of the venue as he escorted Anne and Mrs. Lynde through the hotel's grand lobby. The halls were made of marble and the chandeliers hung like glittering diamonds from alabaster ceilings. Everywhere they turned there was a luxury to be enjoyed. The hotel had fancy hot and cold plumbing; and fountains that sprayed colored water in a dance. There were reproduction paintings of famous nudes on the wall of the lounge, which made him wonder what Mrs. Lynde would think. He did try to steer them away from the fine replica of Michelangelo's famed statue 'David' near the elevators. The last thing he needed was noticing Anne looking at David's naked physique.

He found relief from the risque artwork as the bellboy led them to their suite on the third floor. Their trunks followed them and Anne generously tipped the boy for his efforts. Mrs. Lynde politely thanked Gilbert for arranging such a fine room, for they each had their own feather bed nestled away from the suite's parlor. Mrs. Lynde asked him to stay for a cup of tea.

"I actually wanted to see if I could borrow Anne for a little bit," Gilbert said. "I want to show her the hospital. I promise to feed and water her and bring her back in time for you to dress."

Mrs. Lynde still seemed determined to say "No." Anne started to work on her instead and Mrs. Lynde's bright brown eyes softened under Anne's argument.

"If you let me go with Gilbert now, you'll hear me talk a lot less about how much I miss him, and that will be good for your afternoon nap. Besides, we'll be in public, it's really at the ball and afterward that you need to be on your guard."

Gilbert again got the inkling that Mrs. Lynde wasn't feeling well as she thought it over, but he didn't know if it was because of his healing powers sensing things, as they sometimes did, or if it was her uncharacteristic lack of resolve to stick to her guns. She had agreed to release Anne to Gilbert the rest of the afternoon.

"Oh, the poor thing," Anne said after Gilbert shared Suzette's condition. "And you don't think there's anything medically that can be done?" They were walking the six blocks through the Kingsport business district to the hospital. Gilbert was holding her hand, protecting Anne from passing strangers that may intercept them. Anne still had that habit of being oblivious to others when next to him.

"Medically no," Gilbert shrugged as he looked around to see if they were alone before speaking, "I don't know if I can heal her by myself, I think I need you."

"What do you mean?" Anne questioned.

"I mean I need you," Gilbert said. "It doesn't quite make sense to me either, but you do something to me to make it all work. Anne, I have to try."

"Of course you have to try. Have you been doing other tricks here at school?"

"Small things, nothing big or noticeable, except..." Gilbert hedged. "The other students call me Dr. Diagnosis. I know which questions to ask the patient in the exam and the conclusions to make from the answers. But I get all the information I need when I shake their hands. That seems to be how my power is manifesting anymore, although sometimes I have to force it. Oh….and I did heal Eugene from a cold he had for several days. I just couldn't take the coughing anymore, so late one night when I thought he was asleep, I went and zapped him. He woke up and wanted to know what I was doing."

"And what did you say?"

"I said that there was a big spider on him and I got it."

"Did it work?"

"Yes," Gilbert said. "He said, 'Oh good!' and fell right back to sleep. I've been kicking myself for not doing it sooner."

"You're not relying on your powers too much are you?"

It was a fair question. Gilbert shook his head. "No, I don't believe so. I mean, I have wondered about it, if my lot was too easy. Everyone has their own forte. My roommate Marcus is exceptionally good at setting bones and Eugene's knowledge about reproductive issues exceeds the professor's. He's actually published papers. We all have our own talents it turns out."

Gilbert held the door for Anne as they entered the hospital. Anne, who had never been in a hospital before, was strongly reminded of the children's asylum she had lived in a few months before coming to Green Gables. She froze, trying to tell herself that she wasn't in an orphanage, and she wasn't being abandoned to an unfeeling, uncaring building. Gilbert saw Anne's dread.

"This place reminds me of the orphanage. It even smells like it," Anne told him.

Gilbert's brow furrowed with concern, "The pediatric ward may shock you then. Just so you know before we see it."

He checked in at the desk and got his white lab coat. Anne momentarily smiled for him; he looked all professional and doctor-like.

She grimaced at the sight of so many sick and crying children as they entered the room. The nurses were clearly overrun with work. Gilbert realized that the school visits were especially scheduled during periods of high hospital staffing for he had never seen it this disorderly before now.

He cast his eyes to the bed that had been Suzette's. The child wasn't there, but her bed mate still was, now emerged from the covers, sitting quietly reading a book. A nurse spotted Gilbert and approached him.

"Mr. Blythe," she said after reading his name tag. "Students are not scheduled to be here at this hour."

"Well, I made a promise to Suzette. I wanted her to meet someone who has pretty red hair." Gilbert looked to Anne and Anne smiled feeling slightly flattered.

"I see," the nurse said whilst ignoring the cries of children. "Unfortunately, Suzette has passed away. It happened about an hour ago."

What?

Gilbert felt his face wash of all color and a sick, queer feeling overrode all other sensations he could be feeling instead. Anne too felt his emotions shift like a temperature change.

"She died? Suzette..? The little red-headed girl? Are you sure?"

"I am sure," the nurse nodded as she excused herself.

Gilbert took two steps away from Anne to breathe. Anne approached him closing their gap and placing her hand on his torso.

"Gil?" She said, "You did nothing wrong."

"Except that I did nothing at all," His jaw jutted in his discomfort. "Why was I so afraid to heal her?"

"Gilbert, not everything is going to be cut and dried," Anne answered and in a lower register, whispered. "What you're feeling right now is what will make you a great doctor."

Gilbert dropped his hand over hers and frowned. He looked to her, almost ashamed to admit it, but it had to be said, "But I'm not like any other doctor, am I?"

"Perhaps not," Anne agreed, "But you're not God either. Do you really want to take on that mantle?"

Gilbert found himself shaking his head again. By now they had exited the ward for the hallway. Gilbert showed her a door to a private stairwell.

"What's the point of being a Blythe if I don't use my powers?" Gilbert dumbly asked as he resigned himself to a step.

Anne could see how tired he was. His normal cheerfulness took effort and energy he did not have. Anne made him scoot over so she could sit next to him.

"Gilbert," she reached around to hug him and rest her head on his shoulder. Her other hand she placed on his heart. "You intended to heal her and that means everything. Any hesitation you had was very well placed. I truly believe that. You're going to be a great doctor because you have such tremendous heart."

To Anne's relief, Gilbert relaxed, trusting himself to her care. Anne gave him her full attention as he started to unwind.

"I knew one day, something like this would happen, but I hate knowing that a little girl's life was lost. Why couldn't it have been someone older and less innocent? Why did it have to be a girl whose sole complaint in life was having red hair?"

"If you're drawing parallels to me you should stop," Anne ordered. "It's only making it harder. Gilbert, maybe it takes all sorts to make a world of people, even a world we cannot see or be apart of yet. These are questions for philosophers and ministers, not doctors."

Gilbert checked his watch and saw the time, tea time. He stood and looked to Anne who remained on the stair step, her arms wrapped around her purple skirted knees. Anne was right. He was going to be a doctor, and this experience, as unpleasant as it was, it was part of his training. He had to let things go, move forward and learn.

"I promised you tea, didn't I?" He offered his hand so she could stand up. Anne still heard a tinge of anguish in his voice.

"Yes, I believe you did, but first, kiss me, please," Anne implored as she placed his arms around her waist. She put her own hands on his arms. "I know maybe it seems misplaced right now to ask. But I want you to, and I sense you need something, and I doubt we'll be alone again today."

Gilbert was slow to respond, but Anne thought she saw his mouth part as he considered her proposal.

"Since when is kissing me a challenge," Anne teased, rubbing his arms.

"Well, since you put it that way," Gilbert whispered. "There were about eleven years before our engagement that come to mind."

Gilbert slowly moved Anne against the wall and when she could take no more steps backward, he gently brushed his lips over hers and held himself there repeating the action. The deliberate slowness of his lips on hers made Anne's insides swell and pound with excitement. He was trying so hard to stay in control of himself and she wanted him to break. Eventually, their kissing darkened and Anne wrapped a leg around him to brace her standing position. She sensed where he wanted to put his hands as he moved them uncertainly along her sides. She gave consent by taking his hand and placing it over her left breast.

The kissing abruptly stopped as he felt the soft curve of Anne's flesh under his palm. Realizing what he was feeling, and being a gentleman of the highest order, he tried to pull his hand away, but Anne's held it there.

"Anne, I don't want to use you," Gilbert locked his amazed eyes on her quiet, encouraging ones. There was not a hint of embarrassment between them.

"Gil, don't you understand yet?" Anne heaved. "I love you. Your hand is on my heart, and my heart is yours." Anne put her hand over his heart once again. "Is this not mine?"

Gilbert's face flashed appreciation for her words. His heart has always been hers since the day she cracked her slate over his head. He looked at his hand so possessively placed. "It's really all right?"

"Do you think I'd let you if it wasn't," Anne asked.

Gilbert laughed heartily, "No, you would not, Miss Shirley, but we've got to stop this now. I've got to stop, I mean." He let his hand fall away. It required effort on his part to will it down.

"Thank you, Anne, for helping me feel better," Gilbert said, as he kissed her on the cheek.

On the way back to the hotel, Gilbert casually inquired about Mrs. Lynde's well-being. "How is it that she's lost weight?"

Anne reached for his hand as they attempted to cross the street safely. "I don't know Gil, she says nothing is wrong but she struggles to finish a meal. Marilla is starting to worry."

Gilbert tried to ignore his perhaps unwarranted concern. Mrs. Lynde needed to lose weight after all. "I could try and read her tonight at some point. It would be easy during a dance when I have to hold her hand."

"I don't think Mrs. Lynde plans on dancing," Anne said as they stopped and waited for a chance to cross the street. The December air had grown frosty again. Anne's cheeks were turning white and she re-adjusted her gray scarf around her neck before adding, "Don't you think she's more of the mindset that dancing is the devil's handiwork?"

"Well, something else then," Gilbert and Anne joined hands again as they jogged across the thoroughfare. The exercise warmed them up and brought color back to their faces. "Just as long as I can touch her skin, but if she is sick, how should I go about healing her?"

Anne saw the complication. Mrs. Lynde was a gossip and spoke so bluntly that arming her with knowledge of Gilbert's magical powers was a tremendous risk. "I guess we either need to tell her or you need to … zap her?" Anne asked, "Is that the technical term?"

"Either way she'll know something. I haven't figured out how to keep the voltage down."

Anne chuckled. "You should find out what's wrong with her before we trouble ourselves with the question. Let's not waste our worry."

Gilbert and Anne were now at the side entrance of the hotel and Anne motioned that they should go in that way. Gilbert grabbed her elbow from behind to stop her. "Oh no," Gilbert said as Anne pursued the short cut. "Only the hotel employees and the..." Gilbert stopped talking but then realized he was already committed to finishing his thought, "...the prostitutes use that door."

Anne stared back at him furiously and pulled her arm out of his hand. Gilbert was sure that her eyes turned purple as Anne jumped to an erroneous conclusion. "How would you know, Gilbert Blythe!"

"It's not from experience if that's what you're thinking," He said, utterly amazed at her reaction. He replied so hurtfully and sternly that Anne felt ashamed of herself. She couldn't even look at him as he continued his speech. "The truth is that although medicine is a noble profession a lot of the men here are not. They think they know everything about the human body and that gives them permission to be cads. There are days I wonder if I belong here at all." Gilbert didn't go on to explain he was asked if he would like to have a 'lady friend' that evening to celebrate the end of the term. It still amazed him that they thought he'd be interested when everyone knew how much in love he was with Anne. "They make a big talk, all the time. That's how I know."

"Gil, I'm so ashamed and sorry!" Anne said as she brought a hand up to her brow from embarrassment. "There are sometimes I don't know what comes over me. Of course, I know better of you! Forgive me please!"

"I forgive you. I've never seen you so jealous before," Gilbert said. "That was quite eye-opening."

"Thank you for stopping me from disgracing myself. I am sure I would have used that door if you were not here."

Gilbert continued to walk Anne through the lobby, past the nude paintings in the lounge and to the elevator. He did see Anne's cheeks flush slightly as her eyes passed over the statue of the male nude. Strangely, he wasn't as bothered with Anne looking at it as he thought he would be.

Gilbert lingered in the grand lobby for Anne and Mrs. Lynde to come down from their suite. He felt uncomfortable in his attire. Helen had given him such specific instructions on the type of suit he needed, that it took a visit to not one, but three different haberdasheries to put it all together. He did feel exceedingly well groomed and was proud of his appearance. The wandering eyes of a few ladies, young and old, told him his vanity was not misplaced. He was handsome to the fairer sex.

Mrs. Lynde found him first. She was wearing a black, long-sleeved dress with black ribbons pinned tucked vertically next to the many buttons that held her gown together. She looked the part she was to play, matronly chaperone, and had a fan in her right hand, ready to slap Gilbert if he started any of his famous teasings on Anne. Gilbert took Mrs. Lynde's gloveless hand and bowed to her.

"My thanks to you again for chaperoning Anne," Gilbert spoke very slowly and took his time to stand. He was able to find out the cause of her weight loss. His eyes widened as he got his answer. He politely dropped her hand and tried to hide his concern.

"Are you nervous Gilbert? Your hand is super hot," Mrs. Lynde said taking it back and shaking it to cool.

"No, I'm not especially nervous. But, where's Anne?" He looked in the direction from where Mrs. Lynde came and thought he saw movement.

"She looks really beautiful and she wants to surprise you. She's waiting for you by the statue of that naked man."

Gilbert straightened his bow tie and flounced his coattails. He was a bit nervous to see her because the more beautiful she looked, the more foolish he felt. His footsteps echoed as he walked with feigned confidence to the alcove by the elevator, where he found Anne staring directly at David.

His heart stopped at the beauty that was before him.

Her hair was a cascade of auburn waves, with a golden ribbon weaved in and out of her tresses. Her hair was so bright and rich in color, it made the ribbon's golden highlight almost flat. The top of her dress was simple enough. It was almost sleeveless, the fabric extended just beyond her shoulder joint, like petals for her emerging upper arm. A small length of milky white skin was exposed. The rest of her arm was gloved in variegated greens and that made Gilbert think of a lily's foliage. Her neck bore the familiar string of pearls Matthew Cuthbert had given her so long ago. Although her gown wasn't a hoop skirt, Anne had a small bustle in the back and a modest train behind her. The embroidery at the hip line stretched up into the bodice such to make her athletic figure look more gloriously curved. At the base of the skirt, slits were made such that her creamed colored underskirt's lace made a peek-a-boo appearance. Around her back, a matching shawl draped.

Gilbert thought her bare, upper arms begged to be kissed, but what he loved the most about Anne's appearance was the smile she gave when she saw him. He was going to be a complete fool tonight with her looking like that.

"Anne," Gilbert could barely hear himself. His breath was so bated. He ran a finger along the length of her arm. "You look…. Absolutely amazing."

"You look dashing yourself," Anne returned, hardly able to endure the drag he put on her skin. "This dress, it's not too much, is it?" She said, stepping forward and in a circle.

"You're perfection tonight. Every man in that room with a heartbeat will notice you."

Mrs. Lynde joined Anne and Gilbert as Gilbert brought Anne into the grand lobby on his arm. He suffered from a terrible case of pride as the other medical students saw them. Anne seemed to be more in her element as she and Mrs. Lynde conversed and Gilbert recovered his senses.

Mrs. Lynde had checked out their dance cards from the registration table and handed Anne's over.

"Of course, I'm not supposed to dance, I'm surprised they gave me a card," Mrs. Lynde said. "I'm to be watching the two of you."

"Is there a way I can persuade you to dance with me?" Gilbert asked, at last, finding his voice. "Maybe a quadrille?"

"Well, I do a much better wallflower actually. One misstep and you'll wish you had on your steel toe boots."

"A quadrille is super easy, it's a square dance in good clothes and no barn," Gilbert was not going to let Mrs. Lynde off the hook. Anne laughed as Gil raised his hazel eyes to Mrs. Lynde saying "please" in his adorable way.

"Well, if you insist Gilbert Blythe. I can go back and tell Marilla and Mrs. Harmon Andrews all about it. Marilla won't be too impressed, but Mrs. Harmon, she'll be a mite jealous. She loves dancing, although, I do I want Anne in our quad so I can follow her. I haven't done the quadrille in years."

Anne flipped her dance card open and was not too shocked that she already had a few requests penciled in.

"I think your roommates found my dance card, it's strange that they have your handwriting though. Is this what you were up to waiting for us?"

"Well, I want you to get to know them," Gilbert responded. "Marcus has me waltzing with his girl, Ella, I think her name is. Let's find a table so Mrs. Lynde can sit down."

In the banquet hall, Gilbert heard Eugene's voice call out, "Blythe!" and Gilbert and Anne strained their necks around until Anne spotted a slightly older, bespectacled, balding man waving in their direction. Gilbert lifted his chin in acknowledgment and brought both Anne and Mrs. Lynde to the round table he had staked out for their party.

"You'll notice I grabbed the table nearest the podium, so you don't have to wait any longer than necessary for me to accept the Excellence Award for our class," Eugene said. "You know I'm going to win it. Didn't I just publish again?"

"Here, I thought you chose it because you were hard of hearing, Old Man," Gilbert answered. "Please meet my fiancee, Anne Shirley. Anne, this is Eugene Felder, one of my roommates and a fine scholar as well."

Eugene stood for Anne and in doing so, knocked his water goblet over in one swooping motion, "Oh, geesh!" He grabbed his napkin, but by this point, Anne was also trying to help him out. "Oh, don't trouble yourself, Miss Shirley. I'm sure that I will not be worse for wear in this old plaid suit of mine. It's lovely to meet you. Gilbert spends all his free time reading your letters and talking about you and he's right: You're very pretty. Please sit down. Gilbert also says you're very smart."

"Trust me on this one, she's smarter than all of us together," Gilbert then motioned to Mrs. Lynde, pulling out a chair so she could sit down, "Eugene, Mrs. Rachel Lynde is Anne's chaperone tonight."

"It's lovely to meet you too. There's not a lot of folks that bother with chaperones these days, but I'm glad to see that the custom is not lost everywhere."

"Well! I don't think Anne's guardian Marilla Cuthbert is aware she's behind the times, but I agree with her that Anne and Gilbert need to be watched," Mrs. Lynde boldly exposed. "It's no secret in Avonlea how mad they are for each other."

"You're not her guardian then?" Eugene said in friendly conversation.

"No, I'm a long time family friend, or so I hope. I know just about everything about her, including how to control her if needed." Mrs. Lynde said, flaring her fan for effect.

"Oh, you're rather harsh, aren't you?" Eugene said back in a mischievous echo. Looking to Anne, "I feel sorry for you now, and Gilbert too."

Anne guffawed at the remark, "She enjoys poking fun at me whenever she can. Trust me, I earned it a long time ago with my bad temper."

Several medical students from all classes made their way over to Gilbert to say hello and to be introduced to the lovely redheaded woman in green. Anne's dance card filled up quickly, but at as it was her custom, she always saved one waltz, one two-step and one slow dance for her escort. Anne was busy writing down names of young men and a couple of important professors when she heard a voice say, "I hope there's one more for me, Anne Shirley."

Anne's heart stopped in trepidation. She knew that voice! That horrible voice that used to scold and humiliate her to tears. But wait, he was dead now. It couldn't really be him, that was impossible, although, it sounded like him to the last detail.

Preparing herself for a surprise, she apprehensively looked up and returned the glazed stare of Hugo Hammond, Mrs. Hammond's oldest son. Next to him was clearly his twin sister, Ella. The two of them were not much younger than her, what was it? Three years? She never expected to see them again, not that she wanted to anyway. Anne replied in her overly intellectual and defensive way, "To dance with you Hugo would be like dancing with a ghost. You are like your father, in appearance, and in voice. I hope though that your manners are better."

Gilbert was in conversation with Marcus Trimble but he interrupted it when he heard Anne speak with such sharpness. Perhaps the others did not know it, but he could tell that Anne was not enjoying the reunion taking place around her.

"I told Hugo that he was wrong," Ella Hammond said, as she came forward. She had on a peach hoop skirt that had seen better days. "How could Mother's orphaned servant girl be here and in such finery? But it is surely you and only you! I remember exactly how you'd bark out orders. How is it that you're here?"

Gilbert felt Anne's discomfort radiate from her and so he sat next to her to help her cool down. Anne had only given him the barest details of her life before Green Gables. The small picture she had painted for him was a watercolor of pain and hurt.

Anne willed her voice to be calm. "I was very fortunate after Mrs. Hammond returned me to the orphanage. I was placed in a home on Prince Edward Island and finished my schooling there. I did well enough to go on to Queen's and I have a Bachelor's in Arts from Redmond. I am a teacher now."

"You taught us how to read," Hugo said. "I can certainly believe you're a teacher."

"Anne Shirley is one of the brightest students Avonlea ever produced!" Mrs. Lynde said beaming like a lighthouse, "She could be a doctor herself if this school allowed women to enroll. How many scholarships and awards were you given? How many stories have you published?"

Gilbert chimed in, "And somewhere along that journey she agreed to marry me."

Anne blushed at her loved ones coming to her cause so strongly. She took much comfort in their boasts. Nothing the Hammonds might say now could bother her.

Marcus held a chair out for his fiancee, Ella. She sat down across from Anne. Now that Anne felt a little calmer, she was able to look at her closer. She had Mrs. Hammond's bushy eyebrows and full figure. Her mouth though was her father's, a sharp cut of lips over a pointy chin.

Her conversation with the Hammonds was continuous and careful. Over the course of the dinner, before the awards were presented and before the band was warmed up, Anne learned how it was that these Hammond children were in Canada. Anne's last recollection of Mrs. Hammond was her complaint to the children's asylum that she couldn't be expected to keep Anne when she had to send her own children away to relatives. Mrs. Hammond was an American, so that is where her children ended up, in the States.

Ella explained for the table that she was very good friends with Marcus' sister Lorraine and she had kept up a correspondence with the Trimble family. When tragedy struck them again, the Trimble family offered them a home, and so they returned to Marysville, Nova Scotia a few years later. Anne also found out that Mrs. Hammond had passed away about the same time Matthew had died. They had lost contact with their other siblings as a result.

"Anne," Hugo said. "I know that this sounds very bad, but I'm not sure of the names of all my brothers and sisters anymore. Do you remember?"

Anne nodded, "I don't think I could ever forget them."

On the back of Ella's dance card, Anne wrote down the names of all the Hammond children. She even added the approximate birth dates and the order of birth on the twins. The exercise for Anne was rather healing. When she handed the card back to Ella, she was also handing over all the bad memories that sometimes haunted her dreams. Gilbert seemed proud she thought. It wasn't in the way he looked at her or the tone of his voice. That would be too obvious. She knew he was thinking of her because he kept tapping his foot over the top of her toes, in a reassuring tease. He knew her best and he knew that she had done something rather difficult.

Hugo smiled and thanked her. "This means more to me than you know. Thank you, Anne Shirley."

Gilbert came down from the podium with a small statue and certificate naming him the winner of the Excellence Award for his class. He briefly thanked everyone for the honor. He mentioned his other classmates in contention and paused before thanking his family and loved ones. He especially thanked Anne and quite thoroughly embarrassed her, saying she was the smartest person he knew, yet she had stupidly agreed to marry him. He exited in a crash of applause.

Another cacophony of noise followed as attendees stood and chairs moved. The waiters and bus boys started to clear the tables. From the bandstand, a clarinetist stood and played concert C as the other instruments tuned. Soon, the music started and Gilbert brought Anne out to the dance floor. He was anxious to hold her, this was the moment he longed for since the day he read she was coming to the dance!

"Gil, I am so proud of you!" Anne exclaimed as they stepped to the music. "The Excellence Award! The top student in your class no doubt. Did you have any idea? Your speech sounded a tiny bit rehearsed."

"I was hopeful, but I didn't know," Gilbert slowly moved Anne closer to his body as the music changed its meter. Anne's arms reached around him so that there was barely an inch between their torsos. He checked for Mrs. Lynde. Was she watching? From what he could tell she was in deep conversation with Hugo and Eugene.

"Gilbert Blythe," Anne said as her knees knocked into his. "What are you up to?" She felt her own respiration bounce off his chest and back into her face. She too checked for Mrs. Lynde's awareness of their growing lack of distance.

"I should tell you this before it gets much later, but Mrs. Lynde is sick. Very sick in fact. Do you know how long she has been feeling bad?"

Anne sighed, but her gasp didn't seem to be one of surprise. "I think since before we got engaged. She wanted to impart on me some marital advice on the off chance she wouldn't be around later on."

"You talked about me?"

"Don't worry yourself," Anne chuckled. "She was very much in your corner. But when I asked her why she wanted to tell me things so much in advance to our marriage, she said that she wasn't sure she'd be around then. My theory is that she knew then something might be wrong."

Gilbert scandalously wrapped his arms around Anne, drawing her so tight to him she could rest her head on his shoulder.

"Gilbert, what's wrong with Rachel?" Anne whispered.

"She has a stomach tumor," Gilbert said. "It's interfering with her appetite and she feels full much too quickly when she does eat."

Sniffing, "Can you heal her, Gil?"

"Yes," Gilbert said, "I think I can, but how? Do you think we should tell her? I have to touch her belly to do it."

"I don't see a way around it. I thought about it a little bit and I almost think it would be better to be upfront with her than to try and do it in secret."

The music ended and they had to stop talking. Anne needed to switch partners if she was ever going to complete all her requests. Since Marcus and Ella were also on the dance floor, the men traded with each other as the maestro cued the band's next song.

Gilbert could not see Ella's curtsy to him since her dress was a bulky hoop skirt. He only saw the bob of her head indicating he should bow. He was very surprised to learn that she was an excellent dancer and the cumbersome outfit she wore did not hamper their movement. She was a better dancer than Anne.

He had a harder time starting a conversation. "You dance well, Miss Hammond," Gilbert offered.

"Thank you, it was Anne that taught me actually. That was so long ago I scarcely believe I can still do it."

It was as if she handed him a missing puzzle piece to Anne's past. He chuckled as the picture became whole.

"Why is it funny?" Ella asked him.

"Anne always wants to lead," Gilbert said. "It took me forever to get her to let me do it. I now know why."

"What, she didn't tell you that she knows the man's part?"

Gilbert shook his head. "She did not, but truthfully, she doesn't talk much about her time with your family."

Ella thought before speaking, "We weren't an easy family, I'm sure. There were three sets of twins among us, but I'm glad there's no lasting damage."

"What do you mean?" He had heard a note of concern embedded in her word choice.

"Oh, nothing I suppose. She was always such a flighty, imaginative girl. Mother worked her hard. We had a barrister bookcase with glass doors in our house and Anne used to talk to her reflection in it. It sort of scared me, to be honest."

"How old were you?" Gilbert wanted to know more.

"I was old enough to think it queer," Ella looked at Marcus and Anne who were dancing and talking easily twenty feet away. "But, she's quite made up for it now. She's lovely, so much so I still have a hard time believing her luck! She really did start at the bottom."

"Anne has always been good at making her own luck!"

Ella and Gilbert stopped dancing as the music finished its cadence. Gilbert turned his head to find Anne and Marcus standing to applaud the musicians.

"Thank you for the dance," Ella said.

"You're welcomed."

"May I cut in Gil?" Eugene said to them later on in the program, the music was winding down for a new song. "I do believe I am on Miss Shirley's dance card. You've already stolen that precious award from my more deserving hands, the least you can do is let me dance with your lovely Miss Shirley."

"Sure," Gilbert said. "I don't suppose you know how, Old Man? You're not the lightest fellow on your feet. I've seen you fall up a flight of stairs." It was true, Eugene was generally known as a klutz.

"And by your own example, I am quite light on my feet. Most people fall down, but I defy gravity. Just call me twinkle toes." Eugene pushed his glasses back up the bridge of his nose. "I think I'll manage just fine, I was married to a Summerside debutante after all."

"Oh dear," Anne said as Gilbert excused himself. She put her hand into Eugene's and rested her other on his shoulder. The music started, another waltz. "I don't suppose your wife was a Pringle, was she?"

"How'd you know?"

"I know a lot about the Pringles," Anne said. "They are quite single-minded as a lot."

"Victoria's family can be quite vicious," Eugene said. "I remember, but I have it on good authority that the new high school principal has them in her pocket now."

Anne worried that the man she was dancing with had read her letters to Gilbert. "How do you know about my troubles?"

"Don't be suspicious," Eugene answered and the pace quickened. Anne kept up, but it cut her ability to speak. "Victoria's sister writes to me once and a while. I asked her for her opinion about you. You can't expect me to believe that you're as perfect as Gilbert lets on. He speaks of you as if you were a piece of fine art or lost work of Shakespeare."

"What did your sister-in-law say," Anne asked, feeling a little bit flushed at Gilbert's compliments. "I'd like to know."

"She wrote recently to say that you're extremely clever and that they had greatly underestimated you. I don't suppose you can explain that one, can you?"

Anne tied her mouth into a neat bow and tossed it over her shoulder, "I can explain if I choose to, and I choose not to."

"I see," Eugene answered. "Well, it's lucky for you that I'm not that curious about the Pringles, my sister-in-law is though."

"Just who is your sister-in-law? Or is this bait?"

"Bait it is."

"No deal, I am not going to fish," Anne said, resolved to keep her tiny bit of knowledge on Captain Myron Pringle to herself.

"I see. I failed to find a compromise."

"On the subject of Pringles, we are better off to change it."

"What do you suggest?"

"You've recently published, what did you write on?"

Eugene gave Anne a judging look, trying to determine the level of frankness he could be with Anne. "I have a great interest in women's health, especially obstetrics. You see, my lovely wife died giving birth, our child died too. I can't rest until I do something to avenge their lives, even if it means becoming a specialist in the area."

"I'm sorry for your loss, Eugene," Anne replied. "You honor them every day by trying to change things."

"Yes, we're still in the dark ages regarding childbirth and women's health," he said. "I suppose you're not as interested as I am in the topic."

"Well, I dunno about that," Anne said. "I do a good impression of a female."

Eugene laughed, "Well, I don't. Still, I don't want mothers, sisters, and wives to die just because they loved a man. It's horribly selfish to treat women as second class citizens in modern times. There's no reason for it. If anything I have learned is that most maternal deaths can be prevented. Most of them, still not quite all. Dreaded eclampsia."

"Is that what took your wife?" Anne asked as the dance ended.

"No, she had other complications and the midwife tried to help but only made things worse," Eugene shook his head. "I'm sorry, I've become bad company now."

"Oh, I don't think so," Anne answered. "I think you're quite inspiring in your own way. I'd like to read what you have written if you don't mind."

"I'll make sure Gilbert has copies to send to you."

"Thank you, Mr. Felder!"

"You're welcomed."

Anne felt that Mr. Felder was right, there was a lot of misconception about women's health. She tried not to think too hard about Diana as she returned to the table to sit next to Mrs. Lynde. Anne received her recent letter. She reported that she had lost the baby. Diana struggled to write the few sentences she did, her handwriting, usually so precise and clean was the very opposite. Diana added that this was the second miscarriage she's had. The first barely registered for what it was, it was so early in their marriage. This last one though really cut to the core. Fred had placed blame on her.

Gilbert walked through the hotel's ground floor venturing beyond the lobby and the alcoves whilst Anne and Eugene danced. His mind was overwrought with thoughts of how to heal Mrs. Lynde. Anne's suggestion that they tell her outright scared him. Yes, he could believe she would try her best to keep the legacy secret, but he also knew her limitations. She was so outspoken, so inflexible, and so certain that her perspective was the only perspective that mattered, it felt like a risk no insurer could underwrite. The question was, how long would she stick to it? He guessed not long at all. Gilbert needed to talk with his family about healing her first. He owed them that. His decision would affect them as well and there was no urgency, yet.

So far the list of people that knew he had his powers or had a good idea about them was growing leaps and bounds: Anne and probably Marilla, Josie and Gertie, and Diana, or so Anne thought. He even wondered if Dr. Spencer knew. Adding Mrs. Lynde in that mix was crazy foolish. Yet, it wasn't worth her life. Today taught him that. Little Suzette's life was not for nothing.

Gilbert paced down the cross hallway, seeing a commotion at the end. He realized that he was near the side entrance that Anne wanted to use as a short cut. A couple of medical students and a professor were hanging around, waiting. Soon, the door opened, and a few ladies of the night entered. Prostitutes. He promptly turned himself away from the business exchange being made. He didn't want to witness it. He didn't want to seem interested in their enterprise in any fashion.

His about-face put him into proximity with Marcus who was making his way to the crowd. It had been Marcus that had probed Gilbert about his participation in the venture in the first place.

"Not too late Gilbert," he said. "I'm sure there's a lady for you if you want one."

"We've been through this," Gilbert said. "I don't understand you, doesn't Ella mean anything to you? How can you hurt her like this?"

"What she doesn't know won't hurt her."

Gilbert was disappointed. Ella wasn't lithe like Anne or as becoming or as smart, but underneath her rougher exterior, she'd exhibited a level of decency that towered over her fellow.

Responding to Gilbert's silent admonishment, Marcus added, "You're such an uptight fool. My suggestion is to take advantage of Anne soon and you'll understand more fully how a man thinks."

Gilbert was left unable to move as Marcus brushed past him, unapologetically towards the company of prostitutes. He couldn't stop his actions or make him feel ashamed. Thinking back to his father's advice when handling tough situations, he tried to figure out where he could make the most difference. Should he try and advise her to break their engagement? No, he wouldn't do that. He didn't know her well enough. He thought of her twin brother, Hugo, who was her chaperone. Gilbert decided he should say something to him, and let him decide.

to be continued