Chapter Four—"A Violet by a Mossy Stone"
The morning mists and drizzles had cleared away by midafternoon, and Rainbow Valley was indeed living up to its name. A beautiful rainbow arched over the end of the valley, and the grass was a fresh, crisp green. Tiny purple and yellow violets carpeted the hollow. Una sat beneath the Tree Lovers, their bells still chiming out as the "horns of Elfland faintly blowing". What was there to do? She had no real education or money. The only thing that she had ever done was keep house for her father and Rosemary. All that was within her rebelled at the thought of living with either Nan and Jerry or Jem and Faith. It wasn't that she didn't love them, but that wasn't how she wanted to spend her life.
"I've 'kept faith'," she whispered, quoting Walter's last letter to Rilla. "Yes, I have…but how much longer?"
Una sat there for a while, pondering her state. She was so engrossed in her troubles that she didn't even notice Shirley Blythe come up until he dropped down beside her on the grass.
"'A violet by a mossy stone, half hidden by the eye'," he quoted quietly.
"Oh! You startled me!" Una said, gasping.
"Oh, dear…I knew that I wasn't the most handsome man alive, but I didn't realize that I was quite that unpleasant," Shirley said, his brown eyes twinkling.
"I didn't mean that," Una said, blushing. "You were just so…so…unexpected."
"So I gathered," Shirley said dryly. "What seems to be the problem? You shouldn't be so solemn, Una."
"You're one to talk, Shirley Blythe," retorted Una; with the first bit of spirit she'd shown in weeks. "You're quiet yourself!"
"I suppose so. There are worse things." This in an even dryer tone, then becoming tender. "What's wrong, Una? Your father's death? I'm here to help."
Una wondered if she should tell Shirley what was bothering her. She had always borne her troubles alone. But looking in his kind face, she knew that she could trust him. After all, they had been friends for years.
"Oh, I suppose it all goes back to that…it's more what I'm going to do now. I could have a home with different ones of the family, but I don't want that. I can't teach, and I don't want to keep house for people. In short, I don't know what to do with myself."
"I've been wanting to talk to you about that," Shirley said softly. He hesitated, as if he wasn't sure whether or not to say the next thing on his mind. "Una, you and I have known each other since we were children. We grew up together, you might say."
"Yes," said Una, not sure what turn the conversation was taking.
"You've become very…dear, I'd say, to me over that time," Shirley said, his tongue tripping over the words, like they were hard for him to admit. "I realize that your father just died, and it's too soon, but I'd been going to talk to you anyway."
"Shirley Blythe, what on earth are you saying?" Una asked confusedly.
"I suppose I've blundered this in the most horrid way possible, but I've never had the gift of words that most of the clan has. Una, I'm asking you to marry me."
Author's Note: Shirley's quotation is taken from Wordsworth's "She Dwelt Among Untrodden Ways," a poem which reminds me very strongly of Una. Thanks so much for all of your comments…I have quite a bit of this story written, and I hope to get it up soon.