XIII
Disclaimer: L.M. Montgomery's the genius, I'm not. Duh. Enough said. All I own are the plot complications, David Owen, and Mr. Inglis' first name (I think).
Soon both the inside and outside of the hall began to fill with people. Mostly people who Anne recognized, who smiled at her a little pityingly as if to say, "Oh, still single. Too bad." Anne went over the afternoon's itinerary one last time in her mind. Jane and Mr. Inglis (Anne couldn't help but call him that, he just didn't seem like a first name kind of person) were to arrive in-Anne glanced at the passing Oliver Kimball's watch and panicked-five minutes! Then, of course, the couple had to make the rounds and greet everyone. Half an hour had been allotted for that-Anne mechanically changed it to an hour in her mind, meaning the refreshments probably wouldn't be served until 3:30. Oh, well, at least it hadn't fallen upon her to organize it all, she thought, glancing at an extremely frantic Carrie Sloane (soon-to-be Kimball) sympathetically.
She stared idly around the hall, thinking that the inside, at least, managed some semblance of respectability (not being blue). A pair of eyes that certainly were blue-and goggly-suddenly met her gaze. Oh no! Anne quickly ducked and tried to get herself lost in the crowd. If there was one thing she couldn't bear right now, it being on the receiving end of a lecture from Charlie, going on about how she would soon "find someone" and literally dripping with Sloanishness. The girl to whom he was betrothed had a nose that stuck out even farther than his eyes. But there, that was uncharitable. Goodness, what was wrong with her?
A quick glance to the other side of the hall immediately gave her the answer to that question. There sat Gilbert Blythe, talking congenially with Diana and Fred. Catching Anne's eye, Diana motioned for her to come over. Anne glared at her and mouthed, "NO." Diana rolled her eyes. Why did Anne have to make this so difficult?
"So Gil," Diana began, turning to him, "Miss Lavender tells me that you and Anne visited her last week."
Gilbert froze. "Yes…" he said slowly. "Why?"
"Why what?"
"Why'd you say that?"
Diana raised her eyebrows. "Just making conversation, I guess. Why? Did something important happen there?" She made a show of innocence, but a slight smile played at here lips.
This being met with an emphatic "No," Diana rolled her eyes again. Gilbert was as stubborn as Anne. "I give up, for now at least," she thought, as Gilbert turned to converse with Fred, who was looking at his wife strangely.
**********
Anne walked outside of the hall, where everyone was beginning to gather to catch the first glimpse of the millionaire couple. Lost in her thoughts, she abruptly bumped into Josie Pye, who was just then sharing smothered giggles with her cousin Gertie and Julia Bell.
"Anne! How, er, *dignified* of you," Josie said, snickering.
Gathering her wits, Anne drew closer to them and made a show of whispering confidentially, "Oh, I'm just a little out of it today. I can't get over David. Don't you girls think he looks so handsome?"
Gertie and Julia murmured their agreement, but Josie narrowed her eyes, taken aback. She had been sure Anne was angry with her for stealing Gilbert, that her insults to him at the Blythe gate had only been a show, but… Maybe Anne didn't care after all. And David *was* so much more handsome than Gilbert, especially with his deep brown eyes and thick black hair. She disliked Gilbert's hazel ones-they always seemed to be secretly laughing at something, [A/N-Probably her!] which was kind of unsettling. Ugh, she hated Anne Shirley! Why did she always come out on top?
Anne, who was feeling far from the top just then, quickly noticed Josie's uncertainty and preyed upon it.
"So are you having fun with Gilbert, Josie?" she asked, smiling sweetly. "He seems to finally be getting over his fever delusions. Oh, and I *do* love your pink dress. It's so, I don't know, *one-of-a-kind*."
Josie glared at her and bit her lip in anger. Certainly something would have transpired if not for the fact that just then a call of "They're here, they're here!" was heard.
**********
Congenialities being exchanged, everyone filed to the back of the hall to sit down to refreshments.
Anne sat down in the chair David pulled out for her and glared at him. She knew it wasn't just a coincidence he had offered her the seat right next to Gilbert.
"I don't know, it's kind of drafty in this spot, David," she said, not bothering to hide the sarcasm in her voice. "Won't you switch with me?"
He just smiled at her and sat down on her other side. "I don't feel a draft, darling," he responded, echoing her sarcasm.
"I do," Gilbert chimed in. "Surely you're being ungentlemanly by not switching with her, Dave." He wasn't completely happy with David right then, not exactly keen on the admiring way he had looked at Anne earlier.
Everyone else at the table, including Jane and Mr. Inglis (as it was the *first* table), watched this exchange perplexedly. Seeing their confusion, David spoke up, "Oh, don't mind Gilbert and Anne, everyone, I think they may have had a little too much punch."
Anne kicked him under the table. "Good excuse, David, since there *hasn't* been any punch served yet," she whispered.
"I know," he countered. Anne frowned at him.
Diana bit her lip to prevent from laughing. "So Jane," she said, attempting to distract the rest from the bickering trio, "tell me more about Europe. I just can't hear enough."
"I can," Gilbert muttered quietly. Anne, the only one who heard, caught his eye and tried to contain her laughter as Jane began her description of Vienna. She looked from one side of her to the other. David was certainly handsome, but he didn't hold a candle to Gilbert, especially tonight. Gilbert looked especially dashing in his black suit, though his odd tie kind of subtracted from the whole effect. Anne bent closer to see what color it was. Gilbert, upon perceiving this, crimsoned. Josie, however, spoke right up.
"Oh, so you noticed his tie, Anne? See how it matches? I bought it especially for that purpose."
"Did you?" Anne responded in a rather shaky tone, not allowing herself to catch anyone's eye for fear she'd lose her straight face. This was *too* funny.
"Yes, I'd heard that matching ties and dresses were all the rage in Paris," Josie said with a self-satisfied smile.
"Why don't we ask Jane, since she was just *in* Paris," Diana interjected. At this Josie paled and began to lose some of her self-satisfaction. "Jane?" Diana prompted.
Jane, who had previously been hiding her face behind her napkin under the pretense of coughing, replied, "Um, actually, I really never did see that." Seeing Josie's hurt look, she hastily added, "But you know, I just might have missed it." She winked in the eye that faced Anne, David, Fred, and Diana, but the side toward Josie remained motionless.
Afraid that conversation at her beloved *first* table had become too, well, heated, Carrie Sloane desperately introduced a new, safer, topic. "So, Anne, Charlie tells me you had a rich Kingsport man as your beau at Redmond. I want to hear all about him."
It was David's turn to cough into his napkin. He couldn't have steered this conversation any better himself! He wished he could write it all down so he could remember and laugh later.
Anne opened her mouth, then closed it, and then opened it again. "Well, Roy was very nice," she began, not allowing herself to look anywhere near Gilbert.
Mr. Inglis looked surprised. "Roy-you don't mean Royal Gardiner?"
"The one and the same," Gilbert answered sardonically.
"You-you know him?" Anne asked, not quite believing this was happening.
"Yes, yes. In fact, he was in Europe-he took the same ship home as us," Mr. Inglis replied.
"Oh, the dark-haired one?" Jane suddenly remembered. "Oh, Anne, he was one of the handsomest men I've ever met-excluding present company, of course," she added, smiling at her husband. "And he seemed very depressed. You must have had quite an effect on him."
"Well, Anne has an effect on everyone, doesn't she Gilbert?" David asked, smiling at his friend.
Diana turned to look at David. What was he doing? Not having gone to Queen's like the others, she didn't know him that well. But he was acting, well, either horribly mean or diabolically clever, depending on which way you looked at it. She made up her mind to have a chat with him later.
"What are you talking about?" Gilbert asked his friend tonelessly.
"I don't know, I think maybe-OW!" he said suddenly.
Anne, who had kicked him again, stood up and said, "Oh, I'm sorry, was that your foot? I didn't mean to step on it. I just thought it would be appropriate to propose a toast."
"Hear, hear," Fred said hastily, beginning to become aware of the tension at the table and wanting to escape it.
Carrie Sloane flushed, realizing this was something that she should have done a long time ago in her role as hostess.
Anne hit her glass with her fork and addressed the entire hall. How had she gotten herself into this? Giving David that hard kick had been worth it, though. "I'd like to propose a toast. As you know, the Inglis' have briefly stopped in Avonlea after their honeymoon. We feel honored for them to grace us with their presence one last time"-no one except David and Gilbert noticed the ever-so-slight note of sarcasm in her tone; everyone else nodded their heads in solemn agreement-"as they embark on their, um, journey in life and to Winnipeg." David snickered almost imperceptibly. Anne continued, wanting again to kick him, "So I hope you will join me in wishing the best to Jane and-"
Suddenly Anne stopped. Oh no, she couldn't remember-oh, this was horrible. Everyone had always called him Mr. Inglis out of respect for his wealth, but to call him "Mr." here would seem remarkably standoffish and much too formal. But she couldn't recall his first name! She was sure Jane must have said it at dinner some time, but wrack her brains though she might, she couldn't recollect it. What was she going to do?
All of this went through Anne's head in rapid succession, encompassing barely a second. The rest of the hall was still gazing at her unaware anything was wrong. Except Gilbert. He'd seen Anne succeed, and he'd seen her falter-her involuntary glance at Mr. Inglis as she'd stopped suggested to him that there was, well, a problem. He thought briefly before he stood up himself. Sure, he was furious at Anne, but he still loved her. He didn't want to see her embarrassed in front of the entire town.
"And, um," Anne was saying, beginning to blush. The room began to softly buzz. It was then that she noticed Gilbert was standing next to her. "Oh, right, that was my cue," he interrupted. Everyone turned to look at him, including Anne. "We prepared a joint toast and I forgot my cue. Why didn't you just kick *me*, Anne?" He slightly inflected the "me", which only David and Diana appreciated.
Anne looked at him in utter shock. "I, um…"
"Oh, that's all right. What are we waiting for?" he raised his glass. "To Jane and Geoffrey Inglis."
Oh, Geoffrey, Anne thought. So that was it. Geoffrey Inglis. [A/N: I put this in because *I* couldn't remember his first name either. Does he have one? Or was he, uh, unnamed? If he does have a name, and you know it, please review and tell me.]
"To Jane and Geoffrey Inglis," everyone repeated solemnly, then clinking their glasses.
Anne looked at Gilbert for a moment, unsure what to say. "Some *joint toast*," David said sarcastically, patting her on the shoulder. "And my foot still hurts. Was it worth it?"
She turned back to Gilbert, embarrassed. "Um, thanks," she said softly.
Gilbert waited for a moment, then barely looked at her, also discomfited. "Yes, whatever," he replied, allowing Josie to lead him away from the table.
Anne was disgusted with herself. Gilbert had just saved her from humiliation in front of all those people, and all she could say was, "Um, thanks"? She wished she could slap herself upside the head.
David did just that. "Good going," he commented.
**********
The musicians had begun to set up, and the dance was to start presently. Diana finally spotted David alone, and approached him, saying, "You know, you were really obnoxious at dinner. It was almost like you were trying to, um, *bait* Anne and Gilbert."
"Huh. That's strange," David said noncommittally.
"If you have some kind of plot," she continued, "I simply *must* be a part of it."
He grinned at her. "Well, it's not really an intricate scheme, it's more like 'helping destiny along.' But there is something you can help with," he said, then began to whisper in her ear.
Diana clapped her hands after he'd finished. "Oh, that's perfect! And you're right, they won't unless we do that. When should I start?" she asked eagerly.
"Well, since the dancing is about to start, now would be a good time. But wait, remember I have to find Gilbert too, so we can play our parts simultaneously. We have to time it *just* right," he replied.
**********
Diana found Anne toward the front of the hall, talking reluctantly with Moody Spurgeon MacPherson. He couldn't dance, of course, as a minister-in-training. Anne's eyes sought Diana's, pleading her for a rescue. "Good," Diana thought to herself, "she'll just think I'm saving her from Moody Spurgeon, with no ulterior motive."
Diana grabbed Anne by the arm and dragged her away, calling out, "Women's affairs," over her shoulder to Moody Spurgeon by way of explanation.
"Thank you," Anne said with a sigh of relief once they were a safe distance away. "I'm not even really sure what he was saying, some bit about tablecloths or something."
"Tablecloths?" Diana asked dubiously.
"I don't know, we were talking about the decorations, and he started saying something about some fancy tablecloth at some reception he attended, I don't know."
"All right," Diana said, trying to remember her purpose. "Oh, yes."
"What?" Anne asked curiously.
Diana thought hard for a moment, the wheels turning in her brain. How was she going to get Anne's dance card away from her without Anne becoming suspicious? [A/N: I'm not quite sure how the dance card thing worked, so I'm kind of conforming it to suit my own purpose.]
"May I see your dance card?" she finally asked lamely, not able to come up with anything better on the spur of the moment. She wished David had planned her part out more explicitly.
"Oh, sure," Anne replied, handing it over without any qualms.
"Wow, almost full," Diana commented, examining it. Except for the last dance-perfect…
"Yes, I figured I'd just save the last one for David," Anne said carelessly.
"But David's name is on it a couple times already," Diana remarked, steering Anne towards the punch table.
Anne shrugged. "Oh good, punch. Isn't this Carrie's special recipe?" she asked, helping herself to a cup. She didn't notice Diana subtly leave the dance card on the table right next to the punch bowl as they ambled away.
**Meanwhile…
"You know," David said to Gilbert, staring across the room to where Diana had just dragged Anne away from Moody Spurgeon, "I never realized Anne was so pretty."
"Didn't you?" Gilbert responded coldly, but his eyes followed David's to where Anne was standing.
"No. I mean, she really is gorgeous. Especially in that dress. Just look at her, won't you?"
But Gilbert was already looking at her. She did look exquisitely lovely, the pale yellow accentuating the creaminess of her skin. He wished he could just go to her, just forget everything, and…
David broke his reverie. "I think I might just put my name down for another dance," he said thoughtfully. "I already signed up for three, I think. Probably she doesn't have any open though. I'll worm my way in somehow." He steered Gilbert towards the punch table. Diana and Anne were just leaving. Perfect.
Gilbert paled and raised his eyebrows. David was going to dance with Anne *four* times? Four times meant, well, it meant something serious. David had told him about a girl back in Toronto, but-he couldn't be in love with Anne, right? No, it was ridiculous. But wait, there was the way he'd flirted with her at dinner-yes, that had definitely been flirting. And if his memory served him well, Anne had flirted back. He looked at David calculatingly, jealousy of his friend for the first time rising in him. He didn't stop to think about how unreasonable those feelings were-the love burning within him made him injudicious.
David widened his eyes innocently. "What?" he asked, trying not to smile. Oh, Gilbert was too predictable.
"Oh, nothing," Gilbert responded.
"Oooh, punch," David remarked, approaching the table. "Listen, Gil, will you get me some? I want to go find Anne before someone else does." He patted Gilbert on the back, and walked off without giving him a chance to answer.
"Sure, I'll get you punch while you go pursue the girl that just a few hours ago you were insisting I was in love with, that's just *fine*," Gilbert muttered under his breath, ladling out the punch. Suddenly something next to the bowl caught his eye. He dropped the ladle and picked it up. It was Anne's dance card-she must have accidentally left it there! He fingered it for a moment, then examined it more closely. Yes, David was indeed down for three dances, some others for two. The only dance open was the last.
Gilbert paused for a moment to think, then threw caution to the wind. He wasn't about to let David steal her away! He rashly signed his name to the bottom of the card.
**Meanwhile…
David, who had been watching Gilbert from afar, brushed by Diana and gave her a thumb's up sign. As if on cue, Anne abruptly noticed that something was absent.
"Diana, did you ever give me back my dance card?"
Diana contorted her face into an expression of surprise. "Of course. Do you not have it now?"
Anne put her hand to her forehead. "I seem to have misplaced it, I'm kind of distracted. Maybe I left it at the punch table."
Diana shrugged. "Maybe," she said, barely able to contain her giggles.
Anne arrived at the table just as Gilbert was about to depart. Their eyes locked for a moment, then Gilbert's involuntarily drifted down to the card he held in his right hand. Anne followed his gaze. "Wait, that's-" she began.
"Yours, I know. I-I found it here, I was just going to give it to you." He tried not to look at her, afraid her beauty would overwhelm him and he'd do something that later his pride would regret.
"Oh, thanks. Um…" she looked down at the card, eyes glazed, not really seeing it.
"What?" Gilbert asked, thinking she'd noticed his name.
"Oh-nothing."
Gilbert's heart fell. She'd spotted his name, and wasn't going to say anything to avoid hurting his feelings. Unwarranted anger emerged within him. "It's nice," he said cruelly, "to see how men are willing to take pity on all the *single* women here, don't you think?" An alarm went off in his mind. Had he really said that? No, no, he hadn't meant it. What *was* it that kept making him act so rashly? Well, maybe he could attempt to make it up later, when he--*gulp*--danced with her.
Too late. The damage was done. Anne reeled back as if he had slapped her, then, narrowing her eyes, gave him a sarcastic smile, whirled around and flounced away.
Only then did she notice the familiar black scrawl on the bottom of her card. Gilbert Blythe. She turned around very slowly and looked at him again, but saw only his back as he walked towards Josie, his first dance partner. The music had begun.
She only had one question. Why? This night was so confusing.
Just a few paces away, David and Diana gave each other satisfied smiles. They had accomplished the unthinkable-they had gotten Gilbert and Anne to dance together.
Author's Note: Yes, please, if you have information on either dance cards or Mr. Inglis' first name that I do not, tell me. Oh, and even though I'm not anywhere near done with this story (ha, ha--you're stuck with me), I'm plotting out my next one. Has anyone read *The Story Girl* or *The Golden Road* (LMM of course)? I think I might do a continuation of those books. If you've read it, though, I have a question for you. Does anyone think it would be kind of cool to have a *romance* develop between Beverly (the narrator) and the Story Girl (Sara Stanley)? It seemed like they had some sort of chemistry when I read it (though obviously not romantic). I know that they're cousins and by today's standards, that's really sick, but not then... I mean, have you read Louisa May Alcott's *Eight Cousins* and *Rose in Bloom*? The only people Rose even *considered* marrying were her cousins, and that took place about the same time in history. Well, please give me feedback on that, I want to know what you think.
Disclaimer: L.M. Montgomery's the genius, I'm not. Duh. Enough said. All I own are the plot complications, David Owen, and Mr. Inglis' first name (I think).
Soon both the inside and outside of the hall began to fill with people. Mostly people who Anne recognized, who smiled at her a little pityingly as if to say, "Oh, still single. Too bad." Anne went over the afternoon's itinerary one last time in her mind. Jane and Mr. Inglis (Anne couldn't help but call him that, he just didn't seem like a first name kind of person) were to arrive in-Anne glanced at the passing Oliver Kimball's watch and panicked-five minutes! Then, of course, the couple had to make the rounds and greet everyone. Half an hour had been allotted for that-Anne mechanically changed it to an hour in her mind, meaning the refreshments probably wouldn't be served until 3:30. Oh, well, at least it hadn't fallen upon her to organize it all, she thought, glancing at an extremely frantic Carrie Sloane (soon-to-be Kimball) sympathetically.
She stared idly around the hall, thinking that the inside, at least, managed some semblance of respectability (not being blue). A pair of eyes that certainly were blue-and goggly-suddenly met her gaze. Oh no! Anne quickly ducked and tried to get herself lost in the crowd. If there was one thing she couldn't bear right now, it being on the receiving end of a lecture from Charlie, going on about how she would soon "find someone" and literally dripping with Sloanishness. The girl to whom he was betrothed had a nose that stuck out even farther than his eyes. But there, that was uncharitable. Goodness, what was wrong with her?
A quick glance to the other side of the hall immediately gave her the answer to that question. There sat Gilbert Blythe, talking congenially with Diana and Fred. Catching Anne's eye, Diana motioned for her to come over. Anne glared at her and mouthed, "NO." Diana rolled her eyes. Why did Anne have to make this so difficult?
"So Gil," Diana began, turning to him, "Miss Lavender tells me that you and Anne visited her last week."
Gilbert froze. "Yes…" he said slowly. "Why?"
"Why what?"
"Why'd you say that?"
Diana raised her eyebrows. "Just making conversation, I guess. Why? Did something important happen there?" She made a show of innocence, but a slight smile played at here lips.
This being met with an emphatic "No," Diana rolled her eyes again. Gilbert was as stubborn as Anne. "I give up, for now at least," she thought, as Gilbert turned to converse with Fred, who was looking at his wife strangely.
**********
Anne walked outside of the hall, where everyone was beginning to gather to catch the first glimpse of the millionaire couple. Lost in her thoughts, she abruptly bumped into Josie Pye, who was just then sharing smothered giggles with her cousin Gertie and Julia Bell.
"Anne! How, er, *dignified* of you," Josie said, snickering.
Gathering her wits, Anne drew closer to them and made a show of whispering confidentially, "Oh, I'm just a little out of it today. I can't get over David. Don't you girls think he looks so handsome?"
Gertie and Julia murmured their agreement, but Josie narrowed her eyes, taken aback. She had been sure Anne was angry with her for stealing Gilbert, that her insults to him at the Blythe gate had only been a show, but… Maybe Anne didn't care after all. And David *was* so much more handsome than Gilbert, especially with his deep brown eyes and thick black hair. She disliked Gilbert's hazel ones-they always seemed to be secretly laughing at something, [A/N-Probably her!] which was kind of unsettling. Ugh, she hated Anne Shirley! Why did she always come out on top?
Anne, who was feeling far from the top just then, quickly noticed Josie's uncertainty and preyed upon it.
"So are you having fun with Gilbert, Josie?" she asked, smiling sweetly. "He seems to finally be getting over his fever delusions. Oh, and I *do* love your pink dress. It's so, I don't know, *one-of-a-kind*."
Josie glared at her and bit her lip in anger. Certainly something would have transpired if not for the fact that just then a call of "They're here, they're here!" was heard.
**********
Congenialities being exchanged, everyone filed to the back of the hall to sit down to refreshments.
Anne sat down in the chair David pulled out for her and glared at him. She knew it wasn't just a coincidence he had offered her the seat right next to Gilbert.
"I don't know, it's kind of drafty in this spot, David," she said, not bothering to hide the sarcasm in her voice. "Won't you switch with me?"
He just smiled at her and sat down on her other side. "I don't feel a draft, darling," he responded, echoing her sarcasm.
"I do," Gilbert chimed in. "Surely you're being ungentlemanly by not switching with her, Dave." He wasn't completely happy with David right then, not exactly keen on the admiring way he had looked at Anne earlier.
Everyone else at the table, including Jane and Mr. Inglis (as it was the *first* table), watched this exchange perplexedly. Seeing their confusion, David spoke up, "Oh, don't mind Gilbert and Anne, everyone, I think they may have had a little too much punch."
Anne kicked him under the table. "Good excuse, David, since there *hasn't* been any punch served yet," she whispered.
"I know," he countered. Anne frowned at him.
Diana bit her lip to prevent from laughing. "So Jane," she said, attempting to distract the rest from the bickering trio, "tell me more about Europe. I just can't hear enough."
"I can," Gilbert muttered quietly. Anne, the only one who heard, caught his eye and tried to contain her laughter as Jane began her description of Vienna. She looked from one side of her to the other. David was certainly handsome, but he didn't hold a candle to Gilbert, especially tonight. Gilbert looked especially dashing in his black suit, though his odd tie kind of subtracted from the whole effect. Anne bent closer to see what color it was. Gilbert, upon perceiving this, crimsoned. Josie, however, spoke right up.
"Oh, so you noticed his tie, Anne? See how it matches? I bought it especially for that purpose."
"Did you?" Anne responded in a rather shaky tone, not allowing herself to catch anyone's eye for fear she'd lose her straight face. This was *too* funny.
"Yes, I'd heard that matching ties and dresses were all the rage in Paris," Josie said with a self-satisfied smile.
"Why don't we ask Jane, since she was just *in* Paris," Diana interjected. At this Josie paled and began to lose some of her self-satisfaction. "Jane?" Diana prompted.
Jane, who had previously been hiding her face behind her napkin under the pretense of coughing, replied, "Um, actually, I really never did see that." Seeing Josie's hurt look, she hastily added, "But you know, I just might have missed it." She winked in the eye that faced Anne, David, Fred, and Diana, but the side toward Josie remained motionless.
Afraid that conversation at her beloved *first* table had become too, well, heated, Carrie Sloane desperately introduced a new, safer, topic. "So, Anne, Charlie tells me you had a rich Kingsport man as your beau at Redmond. I want to hear all about him."
It was David's turn to cough into his napkin. He couldn't have steered this conversation any better himself! He wished he could write it all down so he could remember and laugh later.
Anne opened her mouth, then closed it, and then opened it again. "Well, Roy was very nice," she began, not allowing herself to look anywhere near Gilbert.
Mr. Inglis looked surprised. "Roy-you don't mean Royal Gardiner?"
"The one and the same," Gilbert answered sardonically.
"You-you know him?" Anne asked, not quite believing this was happening.
"Yes, yes. In fact, he was in Europe-he took the same ship home as us," Mr. Inglis replied.
"Oh, the dark-haired one?" Jane suddenly remembered. "Oh, Anne, he was one of the handsomest men I've ever met-excluding present company, of course," she added, smiling at her husband. "And he seemed very depressed. You must have had quite an effect on him."
"Well, Anne has an effect on everyone, doesn't she Gilbert?" David asked, smiling at his friend.
Diana turned to look at David. What was he doing? Not having gone to Queen's like the others, she didn't know him that well. But he was acting, well, either horribly mean or diabolically clever, depending on which way you looked at it. She made up her mind to have a chat with him later.
"What are you talking about?" Gilbert asked his friend tonelessly.
"I don't know, I think maybe-OW!" he said suddenly.
Anne, who had kicked him again, stood up and said, "Oh, I'm sorry, was that your foot? I didn't mean to step on it. I just thought it would be appropriate to propose a toast."
"Hear, hear," Fred said hastily, beginning to become aware of the tension at the table and wanting to escape it.
Carrie Sloane flushed, realizing this was something that she should have done a long time ago in her role as hostess.
Anne hit her glass with her fork and addressed the entire hall. How had she gotten herself into this? Giving David that hard kick had been worth it, though. "I'd like to propose a toast. As you know, the Inglis' have briefly stopped in Avonlea after their honeymoon. We feel honored for them to grace us with their presence one last time"-no one except David and Gilbert noticed the ever-so-slight note of sarcasm in her tone; everyone else nodded their heads in solemn agreement-"as they embark on their, um, journey in life and to Winnipeg." David snickered almost imperceptibly. Anne continued, wanting again to kick him, "So I hope you will join me in wishing the best to Jane and-"
Suddenly Anne stopped. Oh no, she couldn't remember-oh, this was horrible. Everyone had always called him Mr. Inglis out of respect for his wealth, but to call him "Mr." here would seem remarkably standoffish and much too formal. But she couldn't recall his first name! She was sure Jane must have said it at dinner some time, but wrack her brains though she might, she couldn't recollect it. What was she going to do?
All of this went through Anne's head in rapid succession, encompassing barely a second. The rest of the hall was still gazing at her unaware anything was wrong. Except Gilbert. He'd seen Anne succeed, and he'd seen her falter-her involuntary glance at Mr. Inglis as she'd stopped suggested to him that there was, well, a problem. He thought briefly before he stood up himself. Sure, he was furious at Anne, but he still loved her. He didn't want to see her embarrassed in front of the entire town.
"And, um," Anne was saying, beginning to blush. The room began to softly buzz. It was then that she noticed Gilbert was standing next to her. "Oh, right, that was my cue," he interrupted. Everyone turned to look at him, including Anne. "We prepared a joint toast and I forgot my cue. Why didn't you just kick *me*, Anne?" He slightly inflected the "me", which only David and Diana appreciated.
Anne looked at him in utter shock. "I, um…"
"Oh, that's all right. What are we waiting for?" he raised his glass. "To Jane and Geoffrey Inglis."
Oh, Geoffrey, Anne thought. So that was it. Geoffrey Inglis. [A/N: I put this in because *I* couldn't remember his first name either. Does he have one? Or was he, uh, unnamed? If he does have a name, and you know it, please review and tell me.]
"To Jane and Geoffrey Inglis," everyone repeated solemnly, then clinking their glasses.
Anne looked at Gilbert for a moment, unsure what to say. "Some *joint toast*," David said sarcastically, patting her on the shoulder. "And my foot still hurts. Was it worth it?"
She turned back to Gilbert, embarrassed. "Um, thanks," she said softly.
Gilbert waited for a moment, then barely looked at her, also discomfited. "Yes, whatever," he replied, allowing Josie to lead him away from the table.
Anne was disgusted with herself. Gilbert had just saved her from humiliation in front of all those people, and all she could say was, "Um, thanks"? She wished she could slap herself upside the head.
David did just that. "Good going," he commented.
**********
The musicians had begun to set up, and the dance was to start presently. Diana finally spotted David alone, and approached him, saying, "You know, you were really obnoxious at dinner. It was almost like you were trying to, um, *bait* Anne and Gilbert."
"Huh. That's strange," David said noncommittally.
"If you have some kind of plot," she continued, "I simply *must* be a part of it."
He grinned at her. "Well, it's not really an intricate scheme, it's more like 'helping destiny along.' But there is something you can help with," he said, then began to whisper in her ear.
Diana clapped her hands after he'd finished. "Oh, that's perfect! And you're right, they won't unless we do that. When should I start?" she asked eagerly.
"Well, since the dancing is about to start, now would be a good time. But wait, remember I have to find Gilbert too, so we can play our parts simultaneously. We have to time it *just* right," he replied.
**********
Diana found Anne toward the front of the hall, talking reluctantly with Moody Spurgeon MacPherson. He couldn't dance, of course, as a minister-in-training. Anne's eyes sought Diana's, pleading her for a rescue. "Good," Diana thought to herself, "she'll just think I'm saving her from Moody Spurgeon, with no ulterior motive."
Diana grabbed Anne by the arm and dragged her away, calling out, "Women's affairs," over her shoulder to Moody Spurgeon by way of explanation.
"Thank you," Anne said with a sigh of relief once they were a safe distance away. "I'm not even really sure what he was saying, some bit about tablecloths or something."
"Tablecloths?" Diana asked dubiously.
"I don't know, we were talking about the decorations, and he started saying something about some fancy tablecloth at some reception he attended, I don't know."
"All right," Diana said, trying to remember her purpose. "Oh, yes."
"What?" Anne asked curiously.
Diana thought hard for a moment, the wheels turning in her brain. How was she going to get Anne's dance card away from her without Anne becoming suspicious? [A/N: I'm not quite sure how the dance card thing worked, so I'm kind of conforming it to suit my own purpose.]
"May I see your dance card?" she finally asked lamely, not able to come up with anything better on the spur of the moment. She wished David had planned her part out more explicitly.
"Oh, sure," Anne replied, handing it over without any qualms.
"Wow, almost full," Diana commented, examining it. Except for the last dance-perfect…
"Yes, I figured I'd just save the last one for David," Anne said carelessly.
"But David's name is on it a couple times already," Diana remarked, steering Anne towards the punch table.
Anne shrugged. "Oh good, punch. Isn't this Carrie's special recipe?" she asked, helping herself to a cup. She didn't notice Diana subtly leave the dance card on the table right next to the punch bowl as they ambled away.
**Meanwhile…
"You know," David said to Gilbert, staring across the room to where Diana had just dragged Anne away from Moody Spurgeon, "I never realized Anne was so pretty."
"Didn't you?" Gilbert responded coldly, but his eyes followed David's to where Anne was standing.
"No. I mean, she really is gorgeous. Especially in that dress. Just look at her, won't you?"
But Gilbert was already looking at her. She did look exquisitely lovely, the pale yellow accentuating the creaminess of her skin. He wished he could just go to her, just forget everything, and…
David broke his reverie. "I think I might just put my name down for another dance," he said thoughtfully. "I already signed up for three, I think. Probably she doesn't have any open though. I'll worm my way in somehow." He steered Gilbert towards the punch table. Diana and Anne were just leaving. Perfect.
Gilbert paled and raised his eyebrows. David was going to dance with Anne *four* times? Four times meant, well, it meant something serious. David had told him about a girl back in Toronto, but-he couldn't be in love with Anne, right? No, it was ridiculous. But wait, there was the way he'd flirted with her at dinner-yes, that had definitely been flirting. And if his memory served him well, Anne had flirted back. He looked at David calculatingly, jealousy of his friend for the first time rising in him. He didn't stop to think about how unreasonable those feelings were-the love burning within him made him injudicious.
David widened his eyes innocently. "What?" he asked, trying not to smile. Oh, Gilbert was too predictable.
"Oh, nothing," Gilbert responded.
"Oooh, punch," David remarked, approaching the table. "Listen, Gil, will you get me some? I want to go find Anne before someone else does." He patted Gilbert on the back, and walked off without giving him a chance to answer.
"Sure, I'll get you punch while you go pursue the girl that just a few hours ago you were insisting I was in love with, that's just *fine*," Gilbert muttered under his breath, ladling out the punch. Suddenly something next to the bowl caught his eye. He dropped the ladle and picked it up. It was Anne's dance card-she must have accidentally left it there! He fingered it for a moment, then examined it more closely. Yes, David was indeed down for three dances, some others for two. The only dance open was the last.
Gilbert paused for a moment to think, then threw caution to the wind. He wasn't about to let David steal her away! He rashly signed his name to the bottom of the card.
**Meanwhile…
David, who had been watching Gilbert from afar, brushed by Diana and gave her a thumb's up sign. As if on cue, Anne abruptly noticed that something was absent.
"Diana, did you ever give me back my dance card?"
Diana contorted her face into an expression of surprise. "Of course. Do you not have it now?"
Anne put her hand to her forehead. "I seem to have misplaced it, I'm kind of distracted. Maybe I left it at the punch table."
Diana shrugged. "Maybe," she said, barely able to contain her giggles.
Anne arrived at the table just as Gilbert was about to depart. Their eyes locked for a moment, then Gilbert's involuntarily drifted down to the card he held in his right hand. Anne followed his gaze. "Wait, that's-" she began.
"Yours, I know. I-I found it here, I was just going to give it to you." He tried not to look at her, afraid her beauty would overwhelm him and he'd do something that later his pride would regret.
"Oh, thanks. Um…" she looked down at the card, eyes glazed, not really seeing it.
"What?" Gilbert asked, thinking she'd noticed his name.
"Oh-nothing."
Gilbert's heart fell. She'd spotted his name, and wasn't going to say anything to avoid hurting his feelings. Unwarranted anger emerged within him. "It's nice," he said cruelly, "to see how men are willing to take pity on all the *single* women here, don't you think?" An alarm went off in his mind. Had he really said that? No, no, he hadn't meant it. What *was* it that kept making him act so rashly? Well, maybe he could attempt to make it up later, when he--*gulp*--danced with her.
Too late. The damage was done. Anne reeled back as if he had slapped her, then, narrowing her eyes, gave him a sarcastic smile, whirled around and flounced away.
Only then did she notice the familiar black scrawl on the bottom of her card. Gilbert Blythe. She turned around very slowly and looked at him again, but saw only his back as he walked towards Josie, his first dance partner. The music had begun.
She only had one question. Why? This night was so confusing.
Just a few paces away, David and Diana gave each other satisfied smiles. They had accomplished the unthinkable-they had gotten Gilbert and Anne to dance together.
Author's Note: Yes, please, if you have information on either dance cards or Mr. Inglis' first name that I do not, tell me. Oh, and even though I'm not anywhere near done with this story (ha, ha--you're stuck with me), I'm plotting out my next one. Has anyone read *The Story Girl* or *The Golden Road* (LMM of course)? I think I might do a continuation of those books. If you've read it, though, I have a question for you. Does anyone think it would be kind of cool to have a *romance* develop between Beverly (the narrator) and the Story Girl (Sara Stanley)? It seemed like they had some sort of chemistry when I read it (though obviously not romantic). I know that they're cousins and by today's standards, that's really sick, but not then... I mean, have you read Louisa May Alcott's *Eight Cousins* and *Rose in Bloom*? The only people Rose even *considered* marrying were her cousins, and that took place about the same time in history. Well, please give me feedback on that, I want to know what you think.