Diana Gail Blythe—"Di" to family and friends, "Miss Blythe" to most of the Home's sponsers, "Mother Di" to the twenty-odd orphans under her care—checked a relieved sigh as Reverend Johnson wound his sermon down. It wasn't that she didn't appreciate church, it was just that it was rather difficult to keep all the children quiet during the service, and this new minister did preach quite lengthy messages.
As the congregation bowed their heads to pray, Di surreptitiously checked down the row to make sure the children were behaving. The little ones were mostly asleep, with their heads in Tricia's lap. Some of the older ones were looking fussy, but Peter and Katia were quelling any signs of restlessness.
As soon as the benediction was pronounced, they were up and gone, running outside with the other children of the congregation to play in the warm June air.
"Remember what day it is!" Di called as she picked up Mirielle, the youngest baby in the orphan home.
Tricia smiled brilliantly at her. "Don't worry, I'll make sure they don't murder each other or anyone else."
Taking little Polly by the hand, she skipped out the door. Di smiled. She really didn't know how she had functioned before Tricia started working with her.
Her mind at ease about the children, she was able to greet the many church members swirling around in the stately old stone building. Shaking hands with several of the Home's wealthy patrons, she finally worked her way out of her pew and greeted her sister and brother-in-law, Rilla and Kenneth Ford, and their son Gilbert Owen, age two.
Rilla hugged Di tightly, despite her growing stomach. "Are you coming to dinner this afternoon?"
"Why?" Di asked wryly. "Have you another eligible bachelor for me to meet?" Her grey-green eyes met Ken's dark ones and they laughed to each other. Rilla was notorious for trying to match her twenty-nine year old sister to someone—anyone.
"No," Rilla answered in all seriousness. "But Mother Leslie and Father Owen are home from France, along with Persis, and I know they want to see you."
Di grinned. She hadn't seen Ken's family in over a year and missed them dreadfully. "As it happens, Tricia doesn't have to go to Dr. Woods' home today, so I am available."
"Wonderful! We'll see you around two, then."
Di kissed her sister and nephew and made her way outside, where she rounded up her children and they made their way back to the Home.
It had been two years since Di had left the States to take over the faltering Orphan Home in Toronto, and in that time she had completely turned it around, thanks in part to one of her mother's former protégées. Jen Stedman nee Pringle had only been too happy to help her beloved Miss Shirley's daughter in this endeavor. She had convinced her husband to support the Home, and bullied, cajoled, and otherwise persuaded many of their wealthy friends do the same. Thanks to their support, the Shirley-Stedman Home was thriving.
Di wouldn't admit it, but even all the money in Toronto wouldn't have been enough to make a success had it not been for her untiring work and determined spirit.
In looks, Di may have looked like a younger version of her mother, Anne Shirley Blythe, but in personality, she was far more like her father, Gilbert. She had his same stubborn will, his insistence on always doing what was right, whether it was easy or comfortable or not, and his determination and self-sacrificial spirit. These traits, combined with her sparkling personality and winning smile, opened far more doors than all of Mrs. Stedman's bullying.
Di was innovative and flexible when it came to running the Home, but the children all knew she was in charge. She loved every one of them dearly. Though Rilla and Di's twin Nan bitterly lamented their sister's single status—as did old Susan, the beloved handmaiden to the Hough of Blythe—Di herself was quite content. As she looked ahead at the long line of children walking back to the Home, she couldn't think of one thing she would change, especially now that Tricia was working with her.
Patricia Woods had introduced herself to Di six months ago after church one Sunday. She was an orphan herself, living with her uncle, Dr. Richard Woods--who also happened to be a patron of the Home. Tricia, as she preferred to be called, wanted to help in some way. Di had made some suggestions--coming in one afternoon a month to work with the children, donating old clothes, something simple--but Tricia wanted to do something more. She finally convinced Di to let her move in as a full-time helper for a trial period of one month.
The month came and went without either of them noticing. In fact, after one week, Di couldn't believe there had ever been a time when Tricia was not there. Dr. Woods hadn't been overwhelmingly pleased with his niece's decision, but he had enough expereince with her stubborn will--so similar to Di's--that he knew better than to argue. The only stipulation he made was that Tricia come home every other Sunday for a meal and that she let them know if she needed anything. Tricia agreed happily, and the two women, though eleven years apart, worked together perfectly.
Chaos greeted Di as soon as she walked through the door of Rilla and Ken's home on Forest Hill that afternoon. Ken and Uncle Owen were debating quite loudly over world politics, Rilla was in the kitchen supervising the cook, Aunt Leslie was cooing over little Gilbert, who was delighting in her attention, and Persis—well, Persis swooped down on Di as soon as the latter entered.
"Thank goodness you're here, darling! If I am forced to admire little Gil's 'darling itty toes' and 'cunning wittle dimples' one more time, I shall scream! Mother just wants me to get the urge to have children myself so that I'll get married and relieve her mind."
Di broke into laughter. Golden, stunning, impetuous Persis was a friend of her childhood. She had many fond memories of trips to the old "House of Dreams" to play with Persis and Ken. In those days, Nan and Persis had been better friends, while Ken and Di were cohorts in mischief, but as they got older they all grew closer. Di thought Persis the loveliest creature she had ever seen, while on her part, Persis admired Di's slim figure and ruddy curls wholeheartedly.
"Is it working?" Di asked impishly, hanging up her cloche in the hallway.
Persis winked. "I already am longing for children—but I don't want the bother of a husband!"
Aunt Leslie reluctantly left Gil long enough to come give Di a hug and kiss. Still beautiful, despite there being more grey in the coil of hair than gold, and despite the wrinkles that the War had brought, she reflected that Persis and Di could have been her and Anne, so many years ago.
"How was Paris, Auntie?" Di asked.
Leslie frowned. "Dreadful. As soon as Owen had gathered enough materiel for his book, we cut the trip short and came right home."
"What is wrong with it?" Di remembered all her romantic dreams from childhood of wanting to travel the world with Walter—she turned her thoughts away from that painful memory and focused on the answer to her question.
Persis answered instead of Leslie. "It is so depressing, Di. Everyone is so desperate to prove they're alive that they are forgetting the reasons to live. Everything is focused on now, today, getting what pleasure you can out of anything without thinking about consequences. It's disgusting. Oh, I suppose it's the same everywhere, but somehow it seems more—obvious—in Paris." She ended with a rueful sigh. "Traveling was more fun before the War."
Such sentiment might have sounded odd coming from Persis, who was the very image of a flapper, with her golden hair cut in the daring "shingle bob" and waved softly back from her face, emphasizing her fine neck and jawline and highlighting her brilliant blue eyes and full red mouth. Her very outfit proclaimed her a modern 'twenties woman, from the filmy green scarf encircling her neck, to the deep green dress that swooped in the front and dipped in the back and rose alarmingly near the knee at the asymmetrical hemline, to the heavy jade earrings dangling from her dainty lobes.
Her appearance notwithstanding, Di knew that Persis was a true Canadian at heart. More than that, she, like Faith Meredith, had been a V.A.D. in the War, and had seen horrors there most people couldn't imagine. There was far more to Persis Ford than the delicate china-doll appearance on the outside.
"So," she continued. "We're back in Toronto for a while, and I have to find something profitable to do with my time, or Mother and Rilla will be sure to hook me up with some old, ugly, rich Torontonian."
Di grinned mischievously. "Better you than me."
Persis stuck her tongue out at her. "Any suggestions of work for me to do in the city?"
"Persis Ford, shopgirl?" Di said doubtfully. The idea was rather absurd. Persis no more belonged behind the counter in a fashionable shop than a bird of paradise did in a pet emporium.
Persis herself acknowledged the incongruity of the idea with a giggle. "Maybe not quite that, but something. Do you need any help around the Home?"
Di laughed. "Well, our latest housemaid did just leave us, due to certain 'mishaps' that occurred—some of our children are quite mischievous—but I don't see you doing drudgery work, either."
"Ah well," Persis shrugged it off. "Enough about me. Tell me all about what's been going on in the Blythe family in the past year."
"How much time do you have?" Di began dryly. "Let's see. Mother and Dad are doing quite well. Jem and Faith and their two—Lily and Walt—are living at Ingleside with them, and Jem is a full partner with Dad now. Folks around the Glen trust him almost as much as Dad. Jerry's political career is 'rising meteorically' in the words of Nan, and their child count is now up to two and one on the way. Nan hopes this one will be a girl. She loves Blythe and Johnny, but she longs for a pretty little girl to dress up and fuss over."
"That doesn't surprise me," Persis interjected.
"Shirley"—Di's voice caught in her throat. It was only two months since Shirley's personal tragedy, and it was still painful for all who loved him.
"I heard something about that," Persis said gently. "I think Aunt Anne wrote about it to Mother. His wife died?"
Di blinked away the tears that were stinging her eyes. "Yes," she replied huskily. "But he's doing as well as can be expected under the circumstances. He's moved back to Avonlea—bought Green Gables from Uncle Davy and Aunt Millie when they moved out west—and he and the twins are slowly healing."
"Twins?" Persis said in surprise. "I hadn't heard about that!"
Di smiled proudly. She loved all her nieces and nephews, but Shirley's children were especially dear, just as Shirley himself was. "Joshua Matthew and Joanna Margaret. So far they are still Joshua and Joanna, but Shirley called me the other day and said they are starting to look more like Matty and Meggie. We'll see what happens."
"And how is Diana?"
"Diana is doing well," Di laughed. "She loves her work and her children and wouldn't trade it for anything. The only thing she really misses is a chance to get down to P.E.I. for visits."
"That must be hard," Persis agreed.
"I haven't seen Mother and Dad since I came here," Di sighed. "I feel terrible—but I can't just leave the Home. they've been promising to visit us here, but so far it hasn't worked out."
"They'll come eventually," Persis comforted. "In the meantime, I'm here, and you're here, and here comes Rilla to tell us dinner is ready, so let us put away vile care, my friend, and pretend we're children once more!"
Laughing at her theatrical tones, the two friends went in to the dining room arm in arm. Looking around the table at the people she loved, Di's heart swelled with thankfulness. What, she reflected, could possibly be better than this?