Jem and Faith, contrary to all expectations, had decided on a small family wedding, with very little fuss. They had decided it was ridiculous to spend all sorts of money on a lavish production when Jem was just barely getting started as a doctor.

"Besides," Faith said, "After the war, it just seems wasteful to have a large wedding." And she glared meaningfully at Mary Douglas, who had had an enormous wedding to Miller two years ago. Mary just bounced little Elliot on her knee and remarked patronizingly,

"I'm sure that's a wise decision on your part, Faith dear. After all, you should have a wedding in keeping with your style of life afterwards. Now, a shopkeeper and his wife have a certain status to keep up."

"A doctor is just as important as a shopkeeper, Mary!" cried Rilla indignantly. "Faith, darling, I am glad you're having a small wedding. It will be so much more personal."

Faith just laughed. She didn't care what Mary said. She was marrying Jem, and what did it matter what the wedding was like? What was important was that they were going to spend the rest of their lives together.

The girls were sitting on the Ingleside verandah, chatting and sewing, while the boys were lolling on the grass. They'd all had a busy day of wedding preparations, for even a small wedding required a great deal of work. Patrick leaned over to Shirley.

"Just say the word, and I'll make myself scarce next week at the wedding," he said. "I don't want your brother to feel obligated to have me invade a family affair just because your folks were good enough to put me up for the summer."

"Nonsense!" answered Jem, who had very good ears (and very nicely shaped, too, as Susan never failed to mention). "After all the help you've been, my boy, you practically are family. Besides, we'll probably put you to work. I've been meaning to ask you—you play the piano, don't you?"

Patrick shifted a little uncomfortably. "Sure."

"Great. Faith and I wanted to ask if you would play for the processional and recessional. Una's the only one in both families who plays really well, and she'll be standing up with Faith, so she can't. Would you mind?"

Patrick's discomfort became a little more apparent. "I don't mind, but I don't want you thinking I'm professional level or anything. I just have a knack for music, that's all."

"We don't want a professional," laughed Jem. "We want everything to be homey and comfortable. So you'll do it?"

Patrick finally smiled. "All right."

"Swell."

Shirley smiled in satisfaction. He was glad that Patrick blended so well with the family. He and Di, especially, had hit it off. Their senses of humor were very similar, and they both liked to take long walks along the shore, and discuss everything from local happenings to economics to world politics. Shirley had casually mentioned Grant to Patrick, not wanting his friend's heart to be broken, but so far the relationship between the two seemed perfectly platonic.

"So who all is coming, Jem?" asked Carl, leaning back on his arms with a blade of grass between his teeth. "How many people make a small wedding?"

"Well, unlike some," with a significant nod toward Mary, "We're not inviting the whole Glen. My family, your family, Ellen and Norman Douglas, Miss Cornelia and Mr. Elliott, Mary and Miller, the Fords, Uncle Davy and Aunt Millie, and the Wrights."

"I've been meaning to ask, Jem," added in Shirley. "Is Anne Cordelia going to make it up after all?"

Jem made a face. "No. apparently she's having some complications with the baby, so it'll just be Aunt Diana and Uncle Fred, Jack, and Young Fred and his family."

"That's still quite a few people, you know," laughed Patrick.

"You should have seen the original guest list!" winked Jem. "Faith had to cut it down three times before we decided we really couldn't cut any more. As it is, we're lucky Aunt Dora lives out west. If she came up with her brood—well, we'd have to add another row of chairs to the lawn."

On the verandah, Mary was rising to leave. Una and Faith, as well, picked up their sewing things to go.

"Remember girls, bright and early tomorrow, we need to have our dress fittings!" called Faith as Jem took her arm to walk her home.

"Aren't you glad we all have dress uniforms?" muttered Jerry to the rest of the boys.

They agreed. Suit fittings were not something any of them had ever enjoyed.

Later that evening, Shirley was walking alone through Rainbow Valley. Patrick was involved in a fierce game of checkers with Carl; Rilla, Nan, Una, and—as he thought—Di were in the garret looking over old memory boxes; Jem was down at the manse; and Mother, Dad, and Susan had all gone to bed early.

Shirley strolled along, enjoying the night sky, thickly clustered with stars, and the mysterious scents of trees and moss that never revealed themselves during the day. He was thinking of Cecily when his attention was caught by a strange noise. Curious, he followed his ears, rounded a corner, and came upon Di, lying flat on her stomach in one of the hidden hollows, face buried in her arms, weeping her heart out.

Alarmed, he knelt down beside her and put a gentle hand on her back. "Di?" he said, very softly. "Can you tell me what's wrong?"

Di looked up, the tears clustered on her long lashes, her eyes shimmering in the moonlight. "Oh—Shirley," she said chokingly. "I didn't know anyone else was here." She dashed at her eyes with the back of her hand.

Shirley took out his handkerchief and very gently dabbed at her wet cheeks. "Is there anything I can help you with?"

Di looked surprised for a moment. She managed a watery laugh. "I didn't think I wanted to talk to anyone, but I almost feel like I can to you. You're so—trustworthy, Shirley." She drew in a shuddering breath. "It's just—so hard right now. Jem and Rilla and Nan are all talking about their weddings. They all have someone close to them. Nan and I used to be closer than anyone, and now Jerry is number one in her life. I'm not angry—that's how it should be—but it still hurts. And—and—they all are making plans about their lives, and I still don't know what I'm going to do or who I'm going to spend my life with or even if I'll be a spinster forever!"

Shirley sat back on his heels and tilted his head to one side. "What about Grant?"

"Oh, Grant," snorted Di. "Grant was very charming, and I thought that I was in love with him, truly I did. But—I don't know—when I looked at our relationship seriously, I knew there was nothing there. We just weren't made for each other. Mother and Dad—they were made for each other. Anybody could tell that. And it's the same way with Jem and Faith—and Nan and Jerry—and even Ken and Rilla—that baby! And I knew Grant and I didn't have that." She drew herself up into a sitting position. Her lips started to tremble again. "And then tonight we were looking at our old memory boxes, and I saw a photograph Jem took of Walter and me when I graduated from Queen's, and I just—I miss him so much, Shirley! He was my whole world." She buried her face in her hands and sobbed again.

Shirley drew her into his arms and just let her cry as he rubbed her back and head. Finally, her sobs quieted down and she pulled back. She wiped at her face with his now-sodden handkerchief.

"Thanks," she said quietly. "It did help just to get it all out in the open." She looked at him quizzically. "You're so quiet, Shirley. We all tend to forget you, and yet I do believe you're the best one of us all."

Shirley blushed. "Hardly that. Walt was the extraordinary one in the family. Jem's the one who'll go far. I'm just simple Shirley, trying to do my best. I know I'll never live up to Jem or Walt—or even any of you girls. Nan—well, with her imagination and sparkle, she can do anything. Even if Jerry doesn't succeed in politics, Nan could. Rilla may not be ambitious, but when she sets her mind to something, she carries it through with her whole heart, and no one is going to get in her way. And you, Diana, you may not know what life holds in store for you, but you won't just sit back and let it pass you by. You will find something you love and chase it until you've won through."

Now it was Di's turn to blush. "You have a lot of faith in me, Shirl."

"It's well-placed," said Shirley simply.

Di brushed a hand back through her curls, dislodging bits of grass and moss. "I'm going to be very impertinent, Shirley. Are you in love with Cecily Irving?"

For once, Shirley didn't mind admitting it. Di's confessions, and the mysterious night surrounding them, seemed to bring the two of them closer than ever before, and he felt he could open his heart to Di and not regret it later. "Yes, I am," he said candidly.

"And is she in love with you?"

"I don't know. I don't think so, but after Jem's wedding I'm going to Avonlea to find out."

"She'll be a fool if she doesn't take you," dimpled Di.

Shirley laughed. "I don't know about that, but thanks." He casually took the subject back off himself. "So what do you want to do with your life, Di? Do you want to continue to teach?"

"No," said Di vehemently. "I do not want to teach forever. But I don't know what I do want to do. I have a bachelor's degree, but I don't know what to do with it."

"If you could pick anything in the world, regardless of practicality, training, or money, what would it be?"

Di laughed. "You know I can't just disregard reality, Shirley! That's a question for Nan."

Shirley smiled. He wouldn't have been able to answer it either. "Well, what are your interests?"

Di paused. "I'm not really sure. It was so strange. During the war, I kept praying for it to end. Now that it has, I—I almost miss it. Not the war itself, of course, but the sense of purpose it gave me. I knew I was doing something meaningful, something necessary. I guess I'd like to find some important work to be done, something that's going to make even a little part of the world better. Or is that just arrogance?"

"I think it's a very good ideal," replied Shirley. "Are you interested in doctoring, like Dad and Jem?"

Di shook her head. "I liked nursing, but I don't want to do that forever. Maybe…" Her green eyes grew dreamy in the moonlight. "You know I love kiddies. I guess, if I could, I would like to do something to help them. I don't like to teach, but I would like to work with children."

"Well," said Shirley, always ready with a practical suggestion. "There are a lot of war-orphans out there. I'm sure you could find something to do to help them."

Di's eyes lit up. "That's it! An orphanage! I could start an orphanage—oh, not just for war-orphans, but for any! For children right here in Canada who've lost their parents! Mother told me once, when I was younger, what her orphanage was like. It was awful, Shirley. She never had enough to eat, and it was cold and sterile and—oh, but I could run one so much better, you know I could!" The words were tumbling out of her mouth, she was so excited. "I have a good head for business—Dad always said I had more business-sense than anyone else in the family. I like to organize things. I did a good job running the Reds in Kingsport. I like children, and children like me. Oh, Shirley, this is what I want to do. I feel like—like it's been waiting for me. I have to do this. This is my life work." She jumped up and spun around, and then came and sat back down, very soberly. "I wish Walter were here. He'd be so proud of me, I know he would."

Shirley leaned forward and patted her knee. "He is proud of you, Di. He may be gone, but he still cares about us and loves us. You know that."

She smiled. "Yeah, I guess I do." Impulsively, she flung her arms around Shirley's neck in a hug that nearly knocked him backward. "Thank you, Shirley. I don't know how to ever thank you enough."

Shirley laughed. "I'm your brother. What else am I supposed to do but encourage you? And when I'm an architect, I'll design a beautiful orphanage for you."

She sat back. "Is that what you're going to be? An architect?"

He nodded. "I decided it during the war. There were so many beautiful structures in Europe, and so many were destroyed, and I just…" He shrugged. "It just fits me."

Di regarded him steadily. "It does. I think you'll make a great architect. And when I get my orphanage, I'm going to name it the Shirley House, in honor of Mother and of you."

They hugged each other again and got up to go back to the house. Shirley looked at the square figure of Patrick through the window and wondered if he should tell his friend that Di's heart was free. On reflection, he decided not to. Matchmaking, despite Mother's fondness for it, was never a good idea. Di had enough on her mind with her new goals. She didn't need her little brother trying to scheme up a romance for her on top of it.

He put his arm around Di's shoulders, feeling as though he had learned more about his sister in one night than he had in twenty-three years previously. It was nice.

Author's Note: Sorry this took so long to get out! I really want to do this story justice, so I want to take my time with it and make it good. This chapter was originally supposed to be about the wedding, but Di insisted on playing a larger role in this story, so I let her have her way. She's very stubborn. Jem's wedding will be the next chapter, I promise! Thanks as usual to all who review. I will try to live up to your expectations.