Timeline - Anne's House of Dreams. Approximately two months into Anne and Gilbert's marriage.
For a shorter narrative, I am combining events that occur in this book and introducing ideas and characters in a different order. Some characters I am not using at all. It is very helpful to know the events of this book still even if I elect to take liberties here and there.

Chapter 34: My Darling Marilla

April 1876

Alberta

My Darling Marilla,

I don't understand what has caused you to change your mind. After all, Matthew still needs help on the farm, and us Blythe boys will be good help for Green Gables. But just when Geri's agreed to the divorce, you say try again with her. Well, you know what I think of that.

I want to try again with you.

That was the plan if I survived, but I remain your obedient servant,

J. Blythe

P.S. Let me know when you change your mind. I love you.

* / * / *

That was the latest letter in the pile, a document penned when she and Davy were one-year-old, the end to over twenty-five years of on and off again correspondence between two people that loved each other.

Dora twirled the pink yarn, knowing she ought to secure the bundle and keep the letters safe together. She was a good steward and the items needed to be tucked into her traveling satchel. Instead she hesitated, paralyzed by the illuminating knowledge of the past. Marilla had loved John Blythe and he loved her. A wooed Marilla was hard for Dora to believe, but the evidence could not be disputed. Marilla had even made wedding plans to put into action. It was all right there in John's correspondence.

Dora lifted her eyes to review Gilbert, who sat dormant across from her. She saw him as he really was, perhaps for the very first time. He wasn't 'that boy' that married Anne anymore. Nor was he a powerful witch or a handsome doctor. Dora recognized him as the sad and scared boy in John's letters. Pieces of his past pinched his face. It was hard not to see the youthful black mop of curls and tear-heavy eyes shadowing his adult features. He was still the boy that needed to heal his father and wanted to see his mother. Two goals that at the time, eluded him.

And what about Marilla? Had she really suggested that they reintroduce Gilbert to her as "Aunt Marilla?" Marilla had made room in her heart for John's child too.

Once, when she and Davy were eight years old, she overheard Marilla tell Mrs. Lynde how much Gilbert looked like his father when John was his age. And now, almost eight years later, the tone of that innocuous comment echoed to the foreground of her thoughts. She had been too little to understand the sentimental currents evoked, but now she gleaned the tang of regret. Marilla still felt something for Mr. Blythe back then. Her John and his son. The family she might have had if she had stuck to the plan. This was why Gilbert had so much favor in Miss Cuthbert's eyes. Through Anne's love for Gilbert, her love for John lived on. It was almost like offspring.

Had Mr. Blythe and Marilla been lovers?

Dora's seized on the thought of prim and proper Marilla Cuthbert being potentially promiscuous, an eeriness that doubled seeing Gilbert motionless across from her. But the letters didn't mention any sort of rendezvous of that nature. Given Mr. Blythe's bold and non-scratchy pen, there would be a mention of such horizontal refreshment*. Maybe there were more letters, for all Dora read were the optimistic plans for a fresh start. A new family. Dora buzzed from the information, believing and not believing in equal measure.

It was like discovering a cousin you never knew you had and seeing your quirks in them. Blood bond you to others, removing your uniqueness while simultaneously creating a society of like minds. Strange how mindset is inherited along with physical features. Dora felt reassured that she wasn't so alone in her thinking. That her beating heart and desire for love matched that of her relative, her now guardian, forever and ever Miss-by-choice Marilla Cuthbert.

She had shouted at Marilla that she didn't know what being in love was like. Marilla did know. Dora saw the error of her assumption plainly. Marilla had made mistakes in love, not once, but twice. And with the same man. Two fail engagements. At least Gilbert benefited from the latter. Somehow, Dora suspected that without Marilla's sacrifice, Gilbert's home would still be broken. Dora was glad for that. Gilbert deserved better than his parent's and Marilla's behavior.

The sway of the train soothed as a lullaby and a dark shadow passed their private compartment. It was only the conductor and his boxy hat, making himself known to the more rowdy passengers as he paced the aisle. The men up front were drunk and Gilbert had greased the conductor's hand when they boarded for the quiet accommodation. A bribe. Dora frowned, uneasy about the expense. Her ticket cost dear enough. But Gilbert waved his hand, excusing her objection, saying that he would feel better knowing she was sitting on a plush seat. He then mentioned something about bi-locating to see Anne.

Anne Blythe leaned back in her seat with one leg perched against an ottoman and nibbled on a rosy apple. She warmed in the red glow of the hearth and was surrounded by a handful of eclectic friends, Dr. Felder, Leslie Moore, and the unflappable Owen Ford.

Her hostess, Leslie Moore nee West, was a dire mixture of beauty and pain. Mrs. Moore sometimes wore her patience in a thin line around her lips, but on the whole, Anne enjoyed her company. Leslie was blessed with physical attractiveness, a model of female perfection juxtaposed against a life of torments. The Great Destroyer dogged her, raking in her beloved; a brother, a father and a mother. If that wasn't enough, fate then chipped away her own hopes and dreams. She found herself unhappily married at age sixteen. Her mother had sold her into a bad marriage. It had been to save the West farm and Leslie agreed to it as a duty.

Anne refrained from expressing her opinion about Leslie's mother when Leslie might hear. Leslie did what she did for the love of her mother and that loyalty shouldn't be disparaged even if Anne questioned it. But Gilbert had heard Anne complain more than once that no woman should be made to marry anyone. No matter how much the bride might want to please her parents and her would-be spouse, the era of arranged marriages should die with the 19th-century. On this point, Anne and Gilbert agreed. Forced marriages came to bad ends. It was a form of slavery.

And what a cruel master Mr. Moore had been! Anne hadn't observed this herself, the brain-injured version she knew had a different temperament than the man that married Leslie, but others testified Dick had been an absolute despot. Everyone assumed Leslie had been beaten by that man. The question was how severely? Anne hoped one day that Leslie would confide the information. Anne remembered how Mr. Hammond used to hit her. It wasn't the same thing, not exactly, but it was a start.

Leslie lived in an Earth-bound purgatory, taking care of her husband. Her iron chains were short and heavy. He was her dependent now, instead of her provider. Leslie had to lease her land out to a local farmer for income, and sometimes, she lodged visitors, like Mr. Selwyn's grandson, Owen. All Leslie had was the dwelling her marriage to Dick Moore secured.

Anne considered Leslie's impoverished life as Leslie moved about the parlor, her long blonde hair catching Anne's coveting eye. How much tragedy can one person bear? Leslie might be able to give Minerva Tomgallon a run for her money when it came to bad luck. Was Leslie's home cursed too? Anne wasn't sure and she meant to consult Helen and Katherine when they visited this winter.

"This is lovely," Anne complimented Leslie on the tea she offered and Leslie gave a small jolt of surprise before a broad smile split her face. Against the sound of clinking china cups, Anne again apologized after an obligatory sip. "I'm sorry to call so unexpectedly. Eugene was really curious to see Mr. Moore. He and Gilbert rely on each other as sounding boards and share cases and medical news. Eugene is so well connected with the leading research in the States and Mr. Moore has puzzled Gilbert since we first came here."

"Oh," Leslie's eyes bounced over to the small table where Dr. Felder and her husband played simple games. "Well, anything to keep Dick busy is fine with me. It's not often I have time to visit, much less serve. I do like taking out Grandmother's pink dishes for company."

"I promise to visit more often then. Sit!" Anne patted the spot next to her and Leslie finally reclined with her own beverage. She looked across the room, pass the small table where Dr. Felder and Mr. Moore played Parcheesi, to another man. She glanced away when she felt Anne's observing eye upon her.

Owen Ford tinkered away at the piano, badly. He received an unsolicited glare or eye-roll from Eugene, especially when a sour note was heard. Dick Moore thought the loud, uneven chords were great fun. Anne wasn't sure if they were deliberately creepy or not. But Mr. Moore's excitement grew as Mr. Ford attempted new pieces of music. Leslie soon abandoned her spot to help keep Mr. Moore calm. She took a position at the table next to her husband and aided his moves against Gene.

Eugene's manners improved with a pretty woman in front of him. He did not mind the assistance that Mr. Moore received from his wife. He continued his notation and asked more pointed questions.

After supper in Anne's home, Eugene had asked to be introduced to Dick Moore. He wanted to see for himself how the profoundly injured man functioned. So, Anne gathered a peck of Blythe apples from her pantry and made it a gift for Leslie. Gene had charmed Mrs. Moore into allowing him to examine Mr. Moore further and add to Dr. Blythe's assessment, promising her that he was good friends with the head of neurology at Johns Hopkins.

Eugene's insisting on the introduction was a bit of a concern for Anne. Naturally, Anne was aware of her husband's medical correspondence, but Anne wasn't sure to what end. Gilbert claimed medical intrigue, but it was more than that. Anne suspected Gilbert's interest in Dick's brain injury had more to do with his magical limitations. He needed science to heal brain trauma. Gilbert didn't look at Mr. Moore as a patient, but as a challenge, a quest for his ambition.

How could Anne mention her doubt when Leslie didn't seem to mind Dr. Felder's involvement for "theoretical purposes"? It was a conversation for another day. Today was going to be a day of joy. When Gilbert came home tonight she'd alight again with the wondrous news of their expecting child.

The bad piano playing stopped and the sheet music returned to the bench. Owen complimented Leslie on the excellent musical library she stored. She had songs ranging from Christmas music, European Operas, and more recently, the ballads of Summerside's sensation, V. Pringle.

Owen then crossed the parlor and joined Anne on the sofa. Normally, he was every bit as animated and expressive as Eugene, but there was something about Dr. Felder's presence in the house that caused Mr. Ford to grump. Perhaps it was the glorious laughter Gene coaxed out of Leslie with his corny jokes and clumsy posture.

Leaning into Anne to whisper, Owen asked. "Have you thought more about my offer?"

Anne winced. Any doubt she might have had dissolved the second she learned she was expecting. Soon, she wouldn't have time for writing pretty little stories for a Toronto publisher anyway. She had painfully explained to Owen that she was done, for the moment, with writing. She wanted to focus on being Mrs. Dr. Blythe.

Although to be fair, Gilbert wouldn't care if she had said yes, after all, he had encouraged her to take on Captain Jim's Life-Book by herself. But she had said "no" to that too. She didn't mind working with Owen as a second pair of eyes when Captain Jim wasn't looking. Owen needed a woman's perspective for the Lost Margaret parts.

"No," Anne apologetically shook her head. "It is a wonderful offer though and it flatters me to no end."

"Ah," Mr. Ford shrugged and cast his eyes away from Anne's slender face. "Well, you'll forgive me for trying. It's just that... we work so famously well together. Everything just clicks in our collaboration." He did not return his gaze back to Anne as he spoke. His gray eyes narrowed as he stared out the shore-facing window where a crescent moon hung high above the audible but unseeable waves. "We're always coming up with the same thoughts, there's never an argument about direction."

"You know," Anne squinted her own gray eyes as she turned her head to see what had caught Owen's attention, "I've noticed that too. I wonder why that is? Probably because we both love the same literature?"

"Sounds logical," Owen swallowed as he pointed out a series of flashing lights, now looking a bit spooked. "Do you see that? That's the second time it's happened in the last minute."

Flash. Flash. Flash. Flash. Flash.

"Yes," Anne bit her lip, thinking of Diana. "Someone's on the shore, I think."

Leslie Moore pulled herself away from the card table where she had been helping Dick with kinging his red pieces against Dr. Felder. They were just starting a round of checkers. She peered out the window too.

"It's just reflected light from the lighthouse," Leslie informed them. She touched Owen's arm when moving around him and Owen straightened in response. "There's debris there, deep down under the sand. Your grandfather Owen, Mr. Selwyn, before he sold this parcel to the Wests, once had a small pier and storage barn in that very spot. Daddy tore it down and used a few of the boards to frame this house. But a lot of the wood was rotted and he left it there. When the water is choppy, like tonight, the ebb pushes old glass-shards to the surface. Then, the lighthouse light bounces off those reflective bits as it turns."

"In other words, don't walk over there without shoes." Dr. Felder piped in from afar.

"I should think not," Owen agreed, still overwhelmed by Leslie's proximity. "Too cold for that anyway."

Now Leslie colored. "Right, no walks tonight." She stepped back and Mr. Ford sighed.

Romantic tensions between Owen and Leslie aside, Anne was not convinced in the little story about reflected light. Anne had walked the edge of the beach a few times and never seen anything of this old pier John Selwyn once used, nor the barn. And, it was an odd location for a landing. Why anyone would build a pier there, so close to the sandbar, was beyond her.

"Those flashes aren't natural," Owen retorted to his landlady as they happened again. "Each time I see them, I count five. Mother once told me that her father said sailors used to make light blink to communicate across the distances to other boats. Five flashes mean. . ."

"Come o'er as soon as possible.**" Anne finished.

"Right. How did you know?"

"It's a game I made to communicate with my childhood friend from our bedroom windows." Anne reported, "Yet another example of why I feel like I know you better than I ought. Do you have some sort of power that clips memories from my head?"

Owen replaced the curtain as he turned dramatically her direction. "I think a better question is how does a little orphan girl from a city, know the ends and outs of an old sailor's code?"

"Sailor's code?" Anne sing-songed. "It was just something I invented, a necessity for solving a problem." Anne's straightened her spine as her natural defenses manifested. "Coincidences do happen."

"If you say..." Owen shrugged with his hands deep in his pockets. "We seem to have quite a few coincidences with our unexplained simpatico." Owen teased. "Do you suppose we should check out those flashes, make sure there's no one in trouble."

"I'll do it," Anne said with a hand stretched out to stop him from moving. "It's time for us to leave anyway before our fire dies out. I don't want Gil to come home to a cold house. Gene and I will check out the light as we go."

"It's nothing, I swear," Leslie repeated as she swung a sheet of blonde hair back. "But I'll fetch your coats."

Gilbert returned back to his dormant body, unsuccessful in his attempt to call Anne away from Mrs. Moore's home. Dora's eyes were steady on him and when she squinted, he gleaned her question.

"I'll have to try again, a bit later. Sorry." Gilbert rubbed his clammy hands against his cotton-wool blend trousers and sighed. He was close to over-extending himself and couldn't afford to do that with Dora's condition. "She and Eugene are visiting our neighbors. It was five flashes, right?"

"Yes, that's right."

Dora looked to her lap where the bundle of papers sat tied up pretty in the pink yarn and mimicked Gilbert's sigh. She didn't need to see her escort's hazel eyes move to feel his judging appraisal. She cradled Marilla's documents protectively. The things she knew now. He could talk about his powers all he wanted. That was no longer impressive.

"Gilbert—you know what these letters are about, don't you?" Dora queried as the train rocked.

"I'm pretty sure I know the gist of them." Gilbert nodded. He had memories of helping his father composing a few of them. "Marilla said it's all in the past now."

"Do you really think so?"

"Yes," Gilbert's eyes lightened a bit. He was never quite comfortable talking about his boyhood, but he felt safe with Dora. "I know so. Marilla did something incredibly strong back then. The greatest love of all is the ability to walk away. You know First Corinthians, Chapter 13***?"

Dora indicated a "yes". She had learned the text a long time ago, but never understood the message. Marilla had lived the words as St. Paul had written.

"Maybe Anne forgot the code?" Gilbert changed the subject. "I'm pretty sure she saw them, though. I did the flashes a few times to call her out of the house."

"Does Anne forget anything?" Dora pondered and they both chuckled. Anne sometimes claimed she forgot, but it was rarely true. If she made such a claim, it was an excuse.

"Right...what was I thinking askin' that?" Gilbert pinched sand from his eyes, exhausted to his core. He tried not to show his weariness further and finished his courtesy cup of water.

"Are we really going to wander over there and look?" Eugene asked with an uncertain edge.

He and Anne had ventured a few feet off the dirt path towards the ocean. Together they looked for the source of the mysterious flashes as the lighthouse passed its beam. There was no reflective glint to be seen coming out of the sandy shore.

"No, I think not." Anne stuffed her hands into her pockets before retreating back to the lane. "It had to have been Gil, calling for me. I would think."

"Good," Eugene stated and he followed Anne. "You know how prone I am to accidents. If there's debris over there, I'll find it for sure."

He held his hat in place as a gust of salty sea air whistled by. Anne shivered. She ceased walking as her skirts twisted. She had to bend forward and lift her hems to free her legs.

"Is it always so breezy here?" Eugene complained as he dropped a steering arm on Anne's back.

"Yes, it is!" Gilbert replied as he magically appeared. "It's not called Four Winds Harbor for nothing."

"Gil!" Anne almost shouted but found she couldn't as his arms swept her into his embrace. There was a quick kiss between the two of them before Gilbert set her down, his eyes lingering on her for a moment before they shared a knowing grin. He then pivoted and greeted his old roommate.

"Gene, it's great to see you too!" Gilbert smiled to his buddy and Eugene gave him a warning stance that said he was not to be hugged. One never knew with Gilbert. The two men shook hands instead.

"My visit couldn't have been timed better!" Dr. Felder felt his eyebrows arch into his now never-ending, hairless crown.

Gilbert splashed a questioning look on Anne and Anne responded with a 'forgive me' gesture.

"You told him?"

"Don't blame Anne," Eugene interrupted and reached for Anne's pocketed left hand. "If Mrs. Blythe will allow me?"

Gilbert groaned as Gene showed Gilbert Anne's finger. Gene knew his powers as well as Anne did, and in someways, maybe even better. It was Eugene that had tried to assist him in mastering his abilities.

"Stitches?" Eugene chuckled at this. "It took me a few minutes to figure out why you would give your beautiful spouse stitches instead of just healing her, but really, short of a total burn out, which..." Eugene grinned at his pun and tried for it again. "The witch was needed at Green Gables, so you weren't burned out. Well, once I understood that only one reason seemed possible. Congratulations, Daddy."

"Gil, I'm sorry, I didn't know what to say." Anne leaned into his side and pulled a kiss off of his lips. "Forgive me?"

"The two of you are going to be marvelous parents."

It was still wonderful news. Gilbert hadn't allowed himself any more happy reverie since he left Green Gables with Dora. Dora's situation made him reel in his glee. But Eugene knowing, that made his joy bubble forward.

"Well..." Gilbert took a tone of feigned indignation. "I will overlook it, if you can do the same for me. I need to..."

"Oh Gil!" Anne's mouth dropped. "You didn't!"

"Mrs. Lynde figured it out," Gilbert announced with a grimace. "I wasn't exactly coming home with bad news shadowing me. Speaking of news, I need to tell you..."

"You were strutting like a peacock, weren't you?" Eugene volunteered and Anne snorted on her laughter. "You can't fault Gilbert on this, Anne, you sent a babe to the lions there."

"So, everyone knows?"

"Mrs. Lynde, Marilla, Davy, and Dora." Gilbert batted his eyes a bit. "We should tell my folks too, to be fair about it. I am sorry, but as it turns out, our news isn't the most pressing matter."

"Oh God, don't tell me," Anne said with renewed worry. "Dora had rabies!"

"Oh dear! No wonder you went straight away."

"No...no," Gilbert stood and gestured for Anne and Gene to come closer to him. "Dora is also. . . You see, Anne, we're not the only ones. Dora and Ralph, they… well, they, uh."

The entire universe stilled to fill in Gilbert's ellipse. Anne put her hand into Gilbert's to keep her balance as the implications shook through her body.

"Miss Keith is with child?" Eugene finally broke the silence. Anne audibly sniffed and Gilbert only nodded his head to confirm. "It's really not so shocking, not in my line of work. It is always troubling to see, very young women expecting, but not, that uncommon. The sexual drive. . ."

Gilbert gave Gene a 'be quiet' stare and Eugene swallowed whatever thought he was going to next express.

"Anne, I was prevented in coming sooner. I wanted to discuss this but had to act before we could talk. Dora is coming back with me so I can keep an eye out for her. You see, her baby..." Gilbert gave a firm shake of his head and furrowed his brow with concern. "Her pregnancy is ectopic. And I can't do anything until..."

"That poor girl." Dr. Felder's horrifying whisper caused goose-flesh to erupt over Anne's arms.

"What do you mean?" Anne asked as Gilbert's specter began to fade.

"Go Gil," Eugene excused Gilbert's mean apparition. "I'll explain it to Anne. Save your strength for Miss Keith."

Gilbert left the pair in a mist. Eugene leveled his blue eyes on Anne and told her frankly. "Dora's pregnancy is a dangerous one, a blockage. But don't worry. You know I'm not a religious man, but I think Mrs. Lynde would declare things are Providential."

Anne's eyes glanced around the path for something less earnest to regard. She knew this, she had studied Latin the same as Gilbert and Eugene, ecto or out of place.

"The baby will outgrow its location and when it does, Dora will need Gil to stop the bleeding and heal her, and then, if the case demands it, a doctor like me."

Eugene silently thanked all the female cadavers that had allowed him to develop the surgical technique to remove the ovary and scarred tubing and leave the womb and the other ovary in place. Most surgeons did a full removal of the female reproductive organs. Eugene's technique allowed the woman to continue to have babies and allowed for a more natural transition to barrenness.

"I would say that Providence wants her to survive this." Eugene smiled, "With banners and bells too! She's a very lucky girl, really."

"Survive?" Anne almost lost her balance. "You mean to say that Dora's life is in danger."

"Most blockages are killers." Eugene offered his steadying hand. "Which is why Dora's proximity to a supernatural healer and me is particularly curious."

Dear Diary,

I need to jot this down so I can laugh at it properly later in life, I don't dare laugh too hard now. I was serving breakfast to Gil, Dora, and Gene when all of a sudden Dora stood up, ran to the sink and got sick. And then, I had to join her at the sink with my own rush of nausea.

Then Gil all of a sudden raced to the sink and vomited spectacularly next to me. All three of us were quite the chorus. You'd think we were epicureans making room for the next course-but no!

Gene was laughing, and stole our bacon off our abandoned plates, while we were heaving, saying it is normal for mothers and fathers to have morning sickness. Gilbert is so very embarrassed about it all. He refuses to believe that he reacted in sympathy for me.

Time will tell,

Cordelia

Dora Keith and Anne Shirley sat at the kitchen table as Eugene heated a half cup of milk. He prescribed both of them a small amount of warmed milk and he was making sure they drank it. Milk had nutrients perfect for pregnant women and their incubating babies.

"I didn't know you were so handy at a stove." Anne praised. She was trying her best to avoid the drink as it wasn't to her liking. She then wondered if Gilbert had left any cookies in the jar to cut its taste.

"I have a hard time keeping a housekeeper under my employment," Eugene admitted with a shoulder shrug. He looked foppish in Anne's big, yellow and ruffly apron. He divided the liquid in half, expertly pouring the white froth into teacups with steady hands. "I've picked up a few tricks. Necessity is the mother of invention."

Dora watched him set the milk coated pan back onto the warm range instead of placing it in the sink for washing. She and Anne's eyes met and they both silently fretted for the pan that hadn't been put away properly. Marilla had trained them well.

"Alright Ladies!" Eugene placed the beverage before them. "Drink up."

Dora stared back with a bit of annoyance. Warm milk was a child's drink given to tots to promote sleep. She was almost sixteen.

"Gilbert said that I'm going to lose my baby." Dora pointed out as she sniffed the husky aroma.

Eugene agreed. "So he did." Then compassionately added, "But, that hasn't happened yet, has it? Pregnant women deserve some pampering. I am humbled to perform this small task to the betterment of your health."

Dora blinked and fought a blush. Eugene didn't seem to notice her demure reaction and used the beat to remove the apron and return it to the peg. Anne chuckled as Dora sipped. Dora obviously wasn't used to this type of attention, kindness for kindness' sake alone. From what Gilbert had whispered in her ear in bed last night, Ralph had been awful.

"Gene, why do you have trouble keeping housekeepers?" Anne asked as he took a seat at the table next to Dora and across from Anne.

"Oh, no you don't," Eugene shook a finger at Anne as Dora provided a musical chuckle to his gesture, "You're trying to distract me with this conversation. Take a sip and I'll tell you."

Anne looked at the offwhite liquid before bringing it to her lips. She tried to swallow it without tasting. The cow was going dry, which added a bitter note.

"There now!" Eugene approved at Anne's effort. "I can't keep a housekeeper because of my profession. I study the female reproductive system. Respectable servants find my desk disturbing, and I suppose they have a point. I forget to put away the pictures and sketches. What housekeeper worth her weight in salt isn't going to wonder if I'm some sort of unhinged eccentric. Baltimore is a prosperous city. I'm not the only employer out there. So they don't stay."

Dora had finished her cup and left it in front of her. "That's silly. Don't they understand you're trying to save lives? Women and their babies?" Dora noticed that she had slid a hand down to caress the spot where her doomed child lived. It was his home, the only one he'd ever know. What Dr. Felder wanted to do was courageous in her eyes.

Eugene seemed astonished by Dora's assessment and shook his head 'no.'

He felt sorry he had no way to stop Mother Nature on Dora and her child's behalf. Her case sounded textbook and he instinctively knew that he could offer her some guidance for the future. She was an adult but still very young. Swooping in on her with all his thoughts and opinions unbidden probably would overwhelm and frighten her. So he said nothing more on the topic of his work.

"I have yet to meet one. Even Ella Hammond was apprehensive." Eugene answered. He glanced to Dora's empty cup pleased that she had done as he had asked, even if it might be superfluous. He then compared it to Anne's.

"Look at your sister Anne, she's done with her milk." Eugene pointed out.

"Might I inquire about Ella Hammond? What happened?" Anne asked.

Dora spoke quickly. "Not the Hammond's?"

"Yes, the same family," Anne acknowledged the question pleased that Dora was good enough to ask. Her way was to sit quietly and not engage in conversation. She had to be very invested in the topic to pipe up. "I thought for a moment that it might be more going on, Gene."

Eugene rolled his eyes. "Just because a young lady becomes my housekeeper, doesn't mean there's more to it. Besides, Ella is hardly my type. She has no backbone."

Anne finished the remaining milk in her teacup and pushed it towards Gene. "I'm all ears."

"There's not much to say. At the time, I thought I was killing two birds with one stone. I wanted to help her get away from that heartless suitor of hers and I needed help with my household. So, I asked her to come and she did. It was a trying three months and eventually, she left. Probably went back to Marcus thinking she didn't deserve better."

"Marcus hurt her?" Anne asked just as Dora was about to ask the same question.

"He toyed with her emotions which might be as bad or worse. A bruise you can see and treat, but damaged esteem takes longer to heal, if at all." Eugene answered. "I failed Ella, I think. Of course, I respected her decision to leave. I just hoped that I gave her enough respite she might believe she deserved better than a two-timer for a spouse. A few men are like that, but it's not the norm. I hoped her staying with me as my housekeeper would prove it."

Dora shifted in her chair and Anne thought she knew why. Dora's beau had been like Ella's. Ralph had grown into a cruel man.

Dear Marilla,

I hope your headache is better. I was really sorry to hear you were feeling poorly when Rachel called to ask about Dora. I know it takes you a couple of days to get your feet back under you, but I wanted to send word as I promised. I know who shares your party line with you and I would not elaborate over it.

Yes, I was a little bit surprised when Gilbert bi-located to me to tell me Dora was coming home with him, but once he explained his reason, it made sense and we are happy to help. Dora is welcomed to stay with us as long as she wants, but I agree with Gil that she needs to rest, physically and mentally.

It happened today. Dora called for me around tea-time. She was in such terrible pain, from her lower back it radiated to her shoulders. The poor thing, she tries so hard not to be a bother to us, but she really needed help. She noticed blood earlier that morning and didn't tell us. I don't know what she was thinking, Gil could have assisted her then when the pain was more manageable.

Gilbert was on a call in the village, an elderly man, Mr. Morgan had taken ill. But he gave me the number just in case, and boy, I was glad I had it. Gilbert was back at the house in no time. He asked me to help him like I sometimes do.

Well, Dora will be fine, but I think she misses you.

Love to you always,

Your Anne

to be continued

*19th Century slang for sex.
**Anne of Green Gables, Chapter 19: A Concert, A Catastrophe and a Confession
***1 Cor 13:4-8. NIV translation

Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes always perseveres.

It's a commonly quoted passage and believable that Gilbert and Dora would know the text well enough to reference it without direct quotation. I chose the NIV translation for you reader as it uses the word "love" over the word "charity". On the whole, I am not a fan of the NIV version. Normally, in the context of this story, I reference the King James Version and not a 20th-century translation.