Timeline - Anne of Windy Poplars, The First Year. This chapter occurs before chapter 8.

Chapter 9: Christmas

Helen Blythe stared through the parlor's window at the road that passed the house and ended in Avonlea's graveyard. She thought she saw something move. The winter-bare trees flanked the path like totems, and she couldn't see who or what was passing. She leaned into the window to see better. Maybe it was nothing, maybe not. A flock of birds departed their perches as if to leave in a hurry. A cardinal, Lynn's favorite bird, came sweeping in and landed cleanly on the snowy ground. He fluffed his downy feathers before starting his song for an audience of one.

Helen listened and her blue eyes frosted over with emotions. When the final note stopped resounding, a quiet she had never known swallowed her whole.

Everyone else in the Blythe home had somewhere else to be that Christmas Eve morning. Helen had no strategy for the emptiness that gnawed. She wasn't used to feeling so singular, because of her supernatural abilities to perceive and see, she was never alone. She used her powers to respond to the needs of her world, often before a soul could ask for help. Loneliness wasn't part of her life. She thought it could never be so.

This quietness meant something terrible had happened. Horrible thoughts lacerated Helen's heart. It was worse than their forced separation, worst than being abandoned. Their families forced shame on them for being peculiar, but they were not the oddities. How much more evil it was for father and mother to banished their daughter and take her livelihood. Helen's armor was chipped and kinked. She could honestly not take one more bruising.

Where was Lynn?

Lynn found happiness in her marriage because her arranged husband did not judge her past. Paradoxically, what a blessing that was to know and what an awful feeling understanding you had been replaced. But then, how could Lynn's heart not respond to love and kindness genuinely given. How she craved those rare commodities for herself! Helen's logic concluded that Lynn had succumbed rather naturally to his affections.

Magic and love are distant cousins, descended from the same forefather. The cardinal that performed to Helen sung mournfully. She felt the ghostly kiss of her lover and knew she had been wrong. Lynn had never stopped loving her, she had just been ill, and was now free of her mortal coil. A tear rolled down her cheek as grief pushed her over the edge. Her powers fell down the cliff and shattered like glass upon the earth. Helen was now a stranger to herself.

Even though Anne had insisted it wasn't necessary, Gilbert ate the entire pie. After that, he unbuttoned the top of his trousers and rubbed his stomach in achy complaint. It was a really good pie, but he would have eaten it all had it been a plate of dirt.

"You ate the whole thing?!" Davy said with so much inflection that it almost warranted the disgusted look he threw at Gilbert. "Or did you make it disappear by magic?!" Gilbert was shocked at Davy's bold vibrato.

Anne then reminded Davy she did, in fact, make two pies. Marilla and Davy portioned reasonably sized pieces from the second pastry, while Anne and Gilbert retreated back to the parlor's sofa quietly laughing.

Gilbert shrugged, more important things had happened at that meal. "You know Anne, I had deja vu in there. Did you?"

Her eyes were more green than gray and they seemed to enlarge as she nodded.

"I felt as if the linear passage of time curled and I was looking at you in the past, and in the future; all in the here and now. I could taste our domestic felicity."

"There, it just happened again," Gilbert said. "You've said that before."

"I can't recall that I have."

"Huh, well, I know you've said it before." He was about to argue with Anne but was distracted.

Marilla entered the parlor, clearly wanting something from one of them or both. Anne turned to see what was happening behind her.

"Tonight, Anne, if you want to, and if Gilbert wants to, I can set up the bundling board for you two. You can start getting used to sleeping next to each other. Rachel is gone tonight, so there will be no hooping and hollering with accusations that I'm crazy to allow it. My grandparents bundled before they wed and they had a happy marriage. You are welcomed to do the same from time to time. But, I'll let you discuss it, of course."

Marilla exited the room as if she might have a regret or two about the offer. Her romantic sensibilities had been shaken up after witnessing Gilbert's reaction to Anne's pie. She was confident that Gilbert would not take advantage of the situation. She worried more about Anne's impulsiveness when it came down to it. But, even if they jumped the board, Marilla wouldn't be horrified. She was getting used to her girl being in love now, and she saw the pain the restraints of separation caused. She would be disappointed, yes, but it wouldn't horrify her.

"What do you think?" Anne asked. "I've seen it set up. I assure you, we're sitting closer like this than we will be on that bed."

"There's something weird about it," Gilbert answered. He wished to tell Anne that he rather wait for the day when he could hold her and touch her as they slept, but the setting of Green Gables' parlor truncated those verbalizations into chokes. The prospect of bundling seemed to be an exciting tease he didn't need. "On the other hand, I suppose that I'd be a fool to say 'no'. I should ask Mother and Father how they feel about it. If they agree to it, I'll need to bring a change of clothing and my razor. So, it looks like I'm departing soon."

"Oh, I left a Christmas present at your house for tomorrow morning. You should bring that back too."

"I saw that," Gilbert said. "I thought we agreed, no bought gifts this year."

"This is something you've asked for and is long overdue."

"Finally! Your photograph!" Gilbert deduced.

Anne flushed, "You'll see."

"And I need to get your present back from Diana. I might as well call on her now," Gilbert said as he stood and stretched. He fastened his trouser button. "Do you know why she's staying at her Mother's?"

"Yes, do you?"

"No, thus my question. Are you going to tell me?"

"She and Fred are on different sides of an opinion right now," Anne answered. "That's all I'll say."

Young Minnie May Barry greeted Gilbert at the door of Orchard Slope and informed him to wait for a second and she would get Diana. She was looking more and more like her older sister, such that he almost called her Diana. Gilbert waited several minutes.

"Oh Gilbert," Diana said as her eyes searched around the house for her little sister. She would criticize Minnie May for leaving him so long outside. "I'm sorry. I would have thought for sure Minnie May would have let you in. You're not that much of a stranger, although it does feel like a long time since I've seen you. Do you want a cup of tea to warm you up?"

"I'd love to stay and chat, but, I just came to get Anne's present, do you have it done?"

"Don't be mad Gilbert, but I never got around to it. It is very lovely as it is, but I think you should finish it. It would mean more to Anne if the script was in your handwriting."

"Well, then she wouldn't be able to read it. No proper doctor writes legibly and you have the best penmanship I've ever seen."

"Thank goodness I'm not a doctor then!" she smiled, pleased by his compliment. "No really, it just takes a little effort, you can do it. I'll go and get it."

Gilbert looked around the foyer and into the main sitting area. It looked much the same from Diana's wedding, only there was a yellow bassinet set up near a window and few soft toys scattered on the floor. From upstairs he heard baby Fred start to cry. Diana came back downstairs carrying her son.

"You haven't met him yet, have you?" Diana said. "This is Fred Jr. Fred, this is Uncle Gilbert!"

Gilbert had been served more than one description of baby Fred from Anne. Round, red and rolly-polly seemed to be her favorite adjectives. Gilbert had to agree with Anne's choicest words as somehow Diana slipped her son into his arms.

"I'll be right back Gilbert, make friends."

Gilbert stood stiff as a board as Fred Jr. squirmed and brought his hand into his gummy mouth.

"My, my, little guy, you do look like your Daddy, but you've got your Mama's forehead." But after a minute or two, Gilbert relaxed and he moved his free hand so he could touch the face of the excellent creature his childhood friends made. He was holding their whole world.

Diana saw how Gilbert was with her boy. She held onto Anne's gift for a moment and thought of what an exceptional parent Gilbert would be one day.

"Yours will have red hair."

Gilbert did not blush when Diana said that, he just smiled back.

"I hope so," Gilbert answered. "Don't tell Anne, it would vex her so, but the redder, the better! Should we trade now?"

Diana and Gilbert exchanged the objects in their arms. She lifted baby Fred so he was resting on her shoulder. Just before Gilbert excused himself, Diana bravely asked, "Did Anne tell you why I'm at Mother's?"

"Not really. She seems to think you and Fred have had a disagreement."

"Yes, Fred and I are working through something right now, but it looks like I'm going home tonight, he's said he's sorry. But I want to ask you about it, if I may speak frankly."

Gilbert groaned inwardly. If I may speak frankly was the preface the professors at school warned him about. People from his past would suddenly trust him with their most personal medical issues. He had already encountered that with Moody Spurgeon MacPherson when he asked Gilbert about male patterned balding.

"Yes, speak frankly then," Gilbert said bracing himself.

"Dr. Spencer says it's my fault I keep.." Diana sighed uncomfortably. "...losing my pregnancies. I've lost two now, maybe three. Of course, Fred agrees with him. I thought maybe there was new information an old doctor wouldn't go looking for. Is it possible?"

"Oh, Diana! I'm so sad to hear this!" Gilbert said. "Miscarriages are very normal and no one is to be blamed for them. You need a second opinion and I'll check to see who you can go to for it."

"Thank you Gilbert," Diana breathed easier, "I can't ask for much more. Will you and Anne be at the service tonight? Fred is being installed as an elder, and baby Fred is playing Baby Jesus in the nativity play."

"Yes, Anne and I mean to be there. I'll see you later then. I better go home and start practicing my cursive."

Gilbert knew something was very wrong as soon as he entered his home. He saw that the breakfast dishes were still on the table and the fire was nearly out. He placed Anne's gift on the kitchen counter before throwing some kindling into the stove's belly. It was then he heard the muffled cry of his cousin coming from the guest bedroom.

"Helen?" He said, knocking on the door. She did not reply but continued to weep.

Gilbert opened the door and saw Helen sitting on her bed looking at a cold, black handgun. Her ice-blue eyes met his and he knew what she was contemplating.

"Helen! No!" He quickly snatched the sidearm off the bed. "You want to tell me what's going through your head?"

"Oh, Bertie!" Helen collapsed on the pillow behind her and she hid her eyes with her hand. "Last year I was so so happy. I was in love, I had a successful business. Now I have nothing! I have no lover and I've lost my powers! My parents have disowned me. I had my last premonition and it was a terrible one. Lynn has died! I should have known when my connection with her was beginning to slip that something was dreadfully wrong, but I just thought she stopped loving me. She never did. She was getting sicker and sicker until she passed away. Her spirit kissed me goodbye and then I knew the truth."

Gilbert shed a few tears from the rawness of Helen's voice. It was as bad as the wail a mother makes for her child's life. He sat next to her and pulled her hands off her face so she could see his wet eyes.

"Taking yourself away from this world won't solve anything Helen. I don't care what your parents think, or Mary Maria or any of those other Blythes jealous of us inheriting the legacy. You are loved in this house and a valuable member of it, even without your powers." Gilbert paused, applying his handkerchief. "I remember how you talked to me when I was recovering after healing Dad. How you told me losing my powers wasn't the end. And you know what, you were right! This is not the end, Helen. It's not!"

Gilbert then hugged Helen and with his embrace, he took much of the edge off of the grief she bore.

"Oh dear!" Helen said. "Gilbert, I suppose you think I'm being foolish. I don't think I could have done it anyway, but, please, get rid of that thing from this house. I don't want to be tested again. Please get it away from me before I change my mind!"

"Here's what we're going to do," Gilbert said. "You're going to get up, and then we'll walk together to the ocean and throw this thing into it. You will survive this Helen. I promised you, you are not alone!"

Gilbert's father returned from his busy morning and found Gilbert leaned over the kitchen table attempting to carefully write in a loose leaf journal. He paced around Gilbert and into the kitchen, where he held his hands before the warm stove. He was glad Gilbert was home for a while and away from Green Gables. He missed his son.

"Is Anne better then?"

"Yes," Gilbert said. "She had a rough night, but I was able to fix it this morning. I told her she couldn't climb any trees though."

He laughed, "That does sound like Anne Shirley, I'm glad you could help her, Son." John sat down with his favorite mug in his hand. "I thought Uncle Dave would be back by now, I suppose Sis has him trapped in a conversation. Where are the girls?"

"Helen's asleep and Mother went with Mrs. Sloane to decorate the sanctuary for tonight's service."

"Right," John drank deeply and watched Gilbert dip his fountain pen into the inkwell. He waited until the scratching sound the pen made over the parchment stopped.

"Speaking of the Sloane's, Charlie's called a couple of times while you've been at school." His father paused, "Do you not write to him? Are you mad at him?"

"I wouldn't say that exactly," Gilbert said, trying to write the word 'Aster' as lovely as he could. "Our friendship was more of a competition for Anne. It was complicated."

"Not that complicated. He said he wanted news of you, but he was fishing around to meet Helen."

Gilbert dropped the pen. "No. Tell me you're lying."

"Helen always managed to make herself scarce before he showed up. Pesky little seer, hum?"

"That does sound like Helen Blythe."

"The Sloane's are a respected family in Avonlea and around these parts. Helen could do worse."

"Oh, Dad," Gilbert stopped labeling pages and pushed Anne's gift away for the moment. His eyes grew with concern. "Charlie's not necessarily a bad guy but I don't see him, or any man frankly, as being right for Helen. And I hate what he might do if he was aware of our powers. I think he could get mean about it."

"Everyone in town knows about Helen's powers and he still comes by. It's your powers that I want to be kept secret. You're the one I worry about, not Helen. Her ability is almost considered normal in this age of spiritualism."

"Helen is worth worrying about, Dad." Gilbert then made his father listen to an abridged version of what Helen had told him. "She's suffering terribly."

"You did too when you lost yours, but you got over it. So will she."

John examined the book Gilbert had been inscribing. His eyebrows lifted to question what it was.

"It's Anne's Christmas present and it's not done yet."

Mr. Blythe looked at his pocket watch. "Son, you better get crackin'. You don't have too much time left if you mean to give it to her tonight at church."

"Maybe I just need a break," Gilbert got up and refreshed his own mug with coffee.

"It's a thoughtful gift," John declared as he looked through it. "It seems perfect for her."

"I hope so. Anne set the bar fairly high."

"Well, she always did that to you. Challenge you, I mean."

"Well, I might have a new challenge." Gilbert went ahead and voiced his own uncomfortable thoughts. "Father, Miss Cuthbert has offered Anne and me a chance to bundle tonight. I told Anne I would discuss it with you and Mother first. I'm not sure I want to. I think it would be too much excitement, knowing Anne is so close to me in some sort of frilly night thing." Pink stained his cheeks. "I don't want her to see any evidence of a dream."

Mr. Blythe could not hide the smirk on his face. "Marilla and I used it once. It's actually quite the erection, the way it divides the bed."

"Ah, Dad!" Gilbert groaned as a beet red blush took over his face.

His father laughed mercilessly. "You know what you're worried about is completely normal, especially for an unmarried man. You remember our talk when your voice changed, we discussed it then."

"The worst ten minutes of my life. I've been trying to forget it ever since," Gilbert said as he tried to recover some dignity. "Is it really high?"

"Annoyingly high! It's made for talkin', not touchin'."

Gilbert hedged. "What do you think? Honest."

"I think my son knows how to behave himself in any situation. I'll smooth it out with your mother, but don't make her wait too long for you tomorrow morning."

Gilbert escorted both Helen and Anne into town for the annual Christmas Eve prayer service. It wasn't that many years ago that Anne and Gilbert were actors with parts to play in the nativity pageant. Now Dora played Mary as the newest church elder, Fred Wright, read from Luke 1. Gilbert couldn't help but appreciate her costume and its fancy embroidery along her skirt's hem. It added something extra to the pageant.

Ralph Andrews played Joseph. He was the tallest Joseph Gilbert had ever seen. He seemed to stand more rigid when he had to look at Mary. Gilbert wondered when Ralph took Dora's hand for the flight into Egypt, if there was something more there than just stage fright. Dora was trembling ever so slightly.

But then Baby Fred stole the show with a well-timed cry when the name Herod was mentioned. He didn't stop and his cries interrupted the flow of the play. Diana had to get up and take him away and then Baby Robbie assumed the role of Jesus. Gilbert was glad to see Gertie and Robert Wright together in the audience. He had heard through the grapevine that they had finally wed. Avonlea believed the falsehood told to explain the bouncing baby boy. Robert and Gertie had managed to adopt their own son and no one knew the wiser, except perhaps the solicitor.

When the play ended and Gilbert found himself stretching his legs with the other men. The ladies were busy arranging food for intermission.

Davy found Gilbert. "Did you see how Ralph looked a Dora?"

"Davy, he had to look at her to do the play."

Davy's frustration was thickly spread over his face. "You know what I mean. He looked at her like you look at Anne. Gilbert, how do I fix it? How do I get it to stop? We only just turned thirteen."

"Davy, this is not a conversation to have at church or in public, but I'm happy to discuss it with you in private. All right?"

"Promise?"

Gilbert smiled, "I promised you, Davy, I'm your brother now, right?"

Davy stared back at Gilbert with an embarrassed grin and he ran off indicating he would wait for the conversation. Gilbert chuckled. He really liked regarding Davy as family and he could see that it was mutual.

"Gil?"

Gilbert turned to shake the hand of an old friend.

"So, you won her in the end," Charlie Sloane admitted. "I thought for sure Anne would have accepted that Kingsport fellow instead of an island boy, but you've proven me wrong."

"If it's any consolation Charlie, I did almost die in the process of wooing her," Gilbert reminded him. "But you got over her and then found someone else, how long were you and Lorraine together?"

"A couple of years. She refused me too. I'm actually glad now, she didn't have much to bring to the union, other than looks. I don't think Mother would have liked her. Although it did hurt a lot at the time. Which makes me the bachelor of our class. Do you suppose I should go west like Jane Andrews and find myself an heiress?"

"I know for sure your mother won't like that."

Charlie got a bit quiet and glanced over at Helen, who was arranging Christmas cookies. She looked radiant in her new red dress and matching headband. She did not show any bit of the depression she suffered but looked to be a gay light full of smiles.

"How old is your cousin, Helen?"

"Twenty-seven," Gilbert said.

"And she was the one your folks wanted you to marry?

"Some of them, yes. My parents love Anne though. They're happy to have her as their daughter-in-law."

"You mean now they do. They had quite a different opinion of her back in the day."

"'That was a long time ago and she did crack a slate over my head. Although, I think father always thought it was my choice."

"Well, I would like to call on her," Charlie said. "I'm not asking for your permission or anything, I'm just telling you my intention. I suppose she'd prefer an older man, but still, she's pretty, would you introduce me? Please?"

Gilbert's hesitation was apparent. "I don't think you'll find a warm reception, Charlie."

"If you mean her past, I know all about it."

"I don't think you do."

"I have a lot of connections in New Brunswick. Trust me. I know all about it."

"Why would you want to if that's the case," Gilbert said. "She'll never be able to love you back, not with her whole heart anyway."

"I think she would appreciate what I could do for her just the same," Charlie said. "We live in a world where marriage is necessary for success. She can only go so far in her business unwed. I can give her a respectable name and connections. She's a talented seamstress. It would be a mutually profitable arrangement."

"That doesn't sound very romantic."

"Not everyone marries for romance, you know that. She's twenty-seven Gilbert. She's a spinster living in her uncle's house wearing herself ragged sewing. She'll listen to what I have to say. Introduce me, please?"

"I want to talk to you about your cousin, Helen." Fred said as he leaned in to obtain two glasses of punch. "Do you have a second?"

Gilbert glanced over to where Anne sat in the pew. Her face was uplifted as she talked pleasantly with Moody and Helen was nearby also seemingly entranced in a dialogue with Charlie Sloane. Gilbert did introduce them, he didn't see how to get around it. If not him it would have been someone else.

"Well. . . sure," Gilbert said, as he started to drink his own punch.

"I'll cut to the chase. As a new pastoral elder, I want to remind you as a fellow member of the Church of our Christian duty to instruct in the faith and admonish evil. Diana says your cousin Helen is a witch. I was hoping that was not true, but she admitted it as such to Minnie May. I am naturally concerned for her immortal soul and the example she gives to those around her. Have you spoken to her about giving up this evil for the good of the Kingdom?"

Gilbert stared back into the eyes of his longtime friend in sheer disbelief. Fred's round, red face looked back at him in earnest. Gilbert shook his head to wake up.

"Well, have you?" Fred asked.

"Fred, it's not something she can take on and off like a hat. It's a part of her like your finger is a part of your hand and right now that finger is smashed."

Gilbert felt a bit panicked and his jaw jutted. What if Fred found out about his powers? Would he accuse him of being evil?

"Her powers are a spiritual gift from God. She inherited our grandmother's ability and she has put to it good use. Now, I would prefer that she be more discreet but she's not communing with the dead, which is what the Bible forbids. She places her faith in God, not divination."

Fred raised his eyebrows at Gilbert. "Gil, you seem really upset, I did not mean to make you so angry."

"Of course I'm upset," Gilbert stated quietly as to not cause a commotion. "It was that sort of thinking that caused my family to leave England in the first place. You knew our Grandmother. She helped build this very church. Look at how our faith has grown in Avonlea because of it. Does that sound logical to you? Why would she work to build the Kingdom and damn herself in the process?"

"Alright Gil," Fred said. "I'm sorry to have mentioned it to you. I was primarily worried about her soul and I know you believe in the resurrection from the dead. I thought it would concern you as it does me, but clearly, you are not."

"Fred, please let go of this. If you need a scripture verse to help you do that, I have one for you," Gilbert retorted. "'Judge not lest ye be judged'-Mathew 7. If you really want to help Helen, just be kind to her. She could really use a friend that won't judge her for what she can and cannot do. I'm begging you, please Fred. Will you and Diana be that for her?"

Gilbert excused himself when he saw that Fred wasn't going to answer him. He found himself walking up to Helen and Charlie. Helen knew something was wrong as Gilbert's jaw was slack with shock.

"Helen, would you mind if I took you home. I've remembered something of the utmost importance that I need to do."

"Well, actually Gilbert," Helen said slightly amused. "I'm going to try something new tonight. Mr. Sloane has agreed to see me home. He has fascinating ideas on my business and I'm anxious to hear more."

"Charlie," Gilbert said. "Can I trust you to makes sure Helen has a pleasant time the rest of the night? I'm counting on you."

Gilbert then went to Anne and extracted her to his side. "Let's go, please Anne. We'll get Davy to drive so he can come back and get Marilla and Dora."

"Merry Christmas Anne," Gilbert said, handing her a box with a large red ribbon on it. They were back in the parlor of Anne's home alone.

Anne took her present out of his hands and she noticed his cheeks looked warm with nerves. He kept diverting his eyes away and rubbing his knees with his hands as Anne slowly untied the knot. She took off the lid and found herself staring at a white journal, which in his hand read, "Anne and Me and Avonlea."

"You wrote me a book?" Anne said astonished. A huge smile was plastered on her face. She would never have guessed it!

"It's our story."

She set the volume on her lap and put its box on the floor by her small feet. She then took his hand into her own and somehow shared in his nervousness as she opened the cover.

Inside was a dedication and a date.

To Anne-girl
and to our island
and to the flora that we found
as we fell in love with each other.

Your Gilbert

Gilbert had pressed flowers mounted on each page. She looked up into his eyes, as she lightly touched the pressed apple blossoms on the first page.

"Our tree?"

He nodded. "It was the last one left, I almost think it was waiting for me to pluck it."

Each page invoked another memory with him. Anne leaned into Gilbert's chest, and heard his heart thump, as they roamed the Haunted Wood in the dead of winter. She loved the soft petals littered in their love-story and lingering fragrance of spring. He circled his arms around her and kissed the crown of her head. He then lifted her chin so her fine nose was touching his, and pressed a kiss upon her lips.

"How on Earth did you manage this?" Anne breathlessly asked as he wrapped his index finger around one of the red ringlets springing from her bun.

"Well, I've been pressing flowers for years," Gilbert said before kissing Anne again. "Whenever I noticed a flower you liked or had in your hair, or in your basket, I would press one."

"Oh Gil," Anne answered. "This has to be years and years worth of pressings."

"It started when I took your tissue flower way back when. I just kept it going. I got better at it over time."

"Is the tissue flower in here?" Anne leafed through the book again.

"No, that one stays with me. It's the first."

Anne stood from the sofa they shared, and for a moment, Gilbert was sure she stood to get the other present she had for him. Instead, she lounged across his lap and put her arm around his shoulder. She leaned down and kissed the nape of his neck, causing Gilbert to arch his back in surprise and grab her wandering free hand. She kept kissing him, sometimes on his neck, sometimes on his face, sometimes on his lips, but in a rhythmic wave that seemed reserved only for the married.

"You like that?" Anne said with stars in her eyes.

"Of course, but Anne," Gilbert said. "You're making it very difficult for me, to keep my promise, to stay chaste until we're married."

"Why must you?"

"Anne," was all he said. And she stopped, with a small frown.

There were many reasons beyond a possible pregnancy to remain pure. Mostly, he needed her to know that she could always trust him, for his nights and days as a doctor would be unpredictable. He might be gone days at a time. He might be called to stay overnight as some lonely widow's house. How would Anne ever be able to trust him if they moved forward in their passions? The chaste gift he wanted Anne to have he meant for her to have the rest of her life. He didn't want any stray thought of unfaithfulness to cross her mind in their future, and how could it not if she knew that they themselves couldn't stay virgins.

Anne knew none of this when she got up and brought Gilbert the other gift she had for him.

"You've already guessed what this is, but, I have a small surprise in it too."

Gilbert's brows twitched as he unwrapped it. It was the photograph. She sat before a light-colored curtain backdrop. Her hair was in a neat pile on her head. She wore a blouse that had lace around the neckline. Around the edge of the frame was an auburn braid of hair securely fastened. Gilbert suddenly recognized what it was mounted on.

"It couldn't be?" He said, flipping the frame over, where "I love you, 'Carrots'" was written in chalk.

"It's my old slate!" He thumbed the initials GB he carved in the corner.

"Dora spent days and days looking for it from the school's storage shed. Do you notice anything else?"

"This braid? Your hair?" He touched it gingerly.

Anne smiled. "Yes. I made a few thin braids before I cut my bang. I knew that there was no such thing as color photography, and you'd never see my hair's pigment. I wanted to work a locket into the display, but then thought to frame it on a slate given our explosive start. It seemed fitting to do it like this, a full circle."

Gilbert kissed Anne on the cheek. "This has been a fabulous Christmas Anne, our first Christmas truly together."

"Minus yesterday's mayhem?"

"Even with that," Gilbert said. He held up his hand as Anne protested. "You are well. Mrs. Lynde is well now. I will have to trust that everything else happened for a reason, even Charlie's interest in Helen."

"What about Fred's statements?"

"I know Fred. He meant it in the best possible sense. I know that, but.." Gilbert looked hurt, "I'm still amazed at how much growing he has to do, I hope he'll get there. We just have to trust in Providence."

"You're putting an awful lot on Providence, Gilbert."

"No, I am not. If there's anything I've learned, it's we can do anything, together."

to be continued