The Home was literally a-buzz with excitement as the date of Tricia and Blair's wedding drew near. The children, though sad they were going to lose their "Aunt Tricia," were nearly out of their skin with excitement over the wedding itself. Little Polly, at three the youngest child in the Home, was entrusted with the role of flower girl, while the other children, though not a part of the wedding party, were to be given seats in the front of the church where they could see everything—and where Di could keep an eye on them!
Di herself couldn't help but get caught up in the excitement around her, and even the sadness of losing her partner—for so Tricia had truly become—was tempered by a letter from Avonlea.
Leah and Freddy were still there, although Leah was starting to feel that the time was approaching for them to move on. She and Di had begun an odd friendship, sustained solely through letters, but one that pleased and satisfied both of them. Di appreciated Leah's clear mind and incisive wit, and Leah enjoyed Di's wholesome outlook on life and practical way of thinking. After hearing the news of Tricia's engagement, this was the letter she wrote:
My dear Di,
I find myself somewhat nervous as I write this, an unfamiliar emotion. Let me assure you that your answer to what I am about to suggest will in no way affect our friendship, whether it be yes or no. I respect you immensely, and that will not change, no matter what you say to my proposal.
Now I have probably terribly worried you. Let me come to the point. You say that Miss Woods' marriage will leave you without a helper at the Home, and you are concerned about how you will manage without her. Will I do as an acceptable substitute?
Are you shocked yet? I certainly hope I've managed to surprise you a little. I really cannot take advantage of the Wrights' hospitality any longer, but I am rather reluctant to return to England as yet. You may be wondering why, but let me simply say that there is much in Canada to keep me here at present. My family's old steward is managing our affairs quite competently, and there is nothing to prevent me from staying aside from a desire not to be an imposition to anyone.
I know that Freddy misses Peter, and though I've not broached the idea to him yet, I am quite sure he would not object to returning to the Home for a little while. We will not be able to stay indefinitely, but I can give you some time, at least. Shall we say six months to a year? That will give Freddy a bit more time to be a carefree child before he has to take up his responsibilities as Earl, and me time to fully recover from the traumas of the past few years.
Think about it, and let me know your decision. I may not have the skill with children Miss Woods had, but I certainly can handle any administrative needs, and though I am not warm and emotional, I am rarely cross or out of sorts. Surely that must count for something.
Your brother sends his greetings, as do the Wrights. I remain respectfully yours,
Leah Mercer.
To say that she was shocked would have been an understatement, but Di adjusted her thinking, and soon sent off a letter agreeing to Leah's proposal. She was still sad to see Tricia go on the girl's own account, but she was no longer worried about what she would do without her.
"I'm so relieved," Tricia said when Di told her the news. She was standing in the middle of her small bedroom at the Home, surrounded by crumpled chiffon and wrinkled silk as she tried to pick out colors for her bridesmaids, but she took the time to beam a happy if distracted smile at Di.
"I've been worrying and worrying about what you all would do without me. Not that I'm so vain to think of myself as indispensable"—
"I'm sure Blair would disagree," Di interjected mischievously.
Tricia blushed and continued as if nothing had been said. –"But I knew it would be hard to have it be you alone running things—no Persis, and now no me. But having Lady Leah come help will solve everything! I can get married now with a clear conscience."
"Where are you going for your honeymoon?" Di asked.
Tricia smiled in pure contentment. "Carlisle. Aunt Sara and Uncle Laurent"—for so Blair's parents had requested to be addressed—"have offered us the Golden Milestone for two weeks. Blair offered to take me to Europe, but I can't think of anyplace lovelier to spend the first month of marriage than Prince Edward Island."
"I couldn't agree more," Di concurred warmly.
That weekend was a tea for Tricia, hosted by Mrs. Robert Kennedy, an old acquaintance of the Woods family. At first, it had looked as though Di wouldn't be able to attend, as it would leave no one at the Home with the children. Then Aunt Leslie came to her rescue and volunteered to stay with the children during the tea.
"After all," she said with a smile. "It's only for a few hours. And being surrounded by all your children will help me forget that it has been six whole weeks since I held my baby granddaughters!"
Put like that, Di had no argument, and so she and Tricia headed off shortly after dinner. Tricia was perfectly at ease, but Di, who avoided social events like the plague, was slightly nervous.
"Don't worry, Di," Tricia tried to calm her. "Mrs. Stedman will be there, and Aunt Sara and her daughters. Just stick close to one of them and you'll have nothing to worry about."
Di tried to stop twisting her hands inside their dove-grey gloves together. "Yes, but Mrs. Kennedy is one of the Home's most influential patrons, and if I behave like an idiot, we could lose her support."
Tricia laughed out loud. "Oh Di, you're worrying over nothing! I've never seen you behave like an idiot, not in all the time I've known you. Don't you know how I've always admired your dignity and elegance?"
"Really?" Di had always considered herself the most awkward of the three Blythe sisters.
"You're always so self-confident and poised … I wish I could be that way."
Di laughed herself suddenly and stooped to kiss the younger girl's cheek. "You're a darling just the way you are. Don't ever wish to change."
Feeling more at ease, Di followed her friend into Mrs. Kennedy's grand, gloomy home. There they were greeted by the old lady herself, who was a tiny, wrinkled woman with icy blue eyes that seemed to bore into Di's soul and find her wanting, and Mrs. Robin Stuart, Mrs. Kennedy's married daughter. Di had heard some queer, garbled tale about Mrs. Stuart and a divorce, which shocked her provincial mind to its core, but looking at the young, pretty woman with the golden curls and tinkling laugh, she decided the report she'd heard had completely maligned her.
Mrs. Stuart tucked Tricia's arm inside her own and led her around the room, introducing her to all the ladies. Mrs. Kennedy, who had apparently decided Di was not worth her time, turned her back and followed the other two. Left thus to her own devices, Di stood awkwardly in the foyer for a few moments, before catching sight of Aunt Jen's familiar face and moving toward her with a sense of relief.
"So glad you're here, dear," Aunt Jen said in a low tone. "Everyone else is dreadfully stuffy and boring." She gave a wry smile. "I suppose my nose is out of joint because I'm not used to being shunted aside. In Summerside I'm still a most important person, and even in my own circle of acquaintance here in Toronto I've earned a place for myself, but the Kennedys are of a slightly higher social circle than the Stedmans."
"And I'm just a simple girl from Prince Edward Island who doesn't seem to belong at all," Di whispered ruefully. "I can't think how I let Tricia talk me into this."
"Don't worry," Aunt Jen advised warmly. "Just smile and nod and for pity's sake, don't mention the Island to old Mrs. Kennedy!"
"Whyever not?" Di asked in amazement.
"For some reason she has the oddest prejudice against the Island. Didn't you wonder why Mrs. Ford wasn't invited, when she's connected with Tricia and you and of good social standing?"
"I suppose I didn't think of it," Di admitted.
"Well, Mrs. Kennedy was very gracious and charming to Mrs. Ford for many years, until right after the War, when she suddenly started snubbing her and refusing to have anything to do with her. Ever since then, if anyone so much as mentions P.E.I. in her presence, she freezes up and won't speak to them ever again."
"How bizarre!" Di said, wondering at such irrational behavior. How could anyone be prejudiced against the Island? "But both you and Uncle Lewis are from the Island," it suddenly occurred to her. "How is it you're here?"
Aunt Jen winked conspiratorially at her. "Since Lewis inherited the business from his uncle, who was a long-standing citizen of Toronto, she just assumes we're both Torontonians—and we've never disillusioned her! Dreadfully deceitful, I know, but we really can't afford to fall out with her. She has tremendous influence in the city, you know, and she could ruin us without even half trying. And people say the Pringles are elitists!"
Di shook her head smilingly.
A diversion occurred at that moment when "Mrs. Sara Giraud and daughters," were announced. A little thrill of electricity ran around the room, and when the tall, stately woman with the rich brown hair and red mouth entered, a joint sigh rose up from all the ladies.
"So that is Tricia's new mother-in-law," murmured Aunt Jen. "She certainly is somebody, isn't she?"
Di had to agree. She had heard of the famous Sara Stanley all her life, but never expected to actually meet her!
The three daughters, Felicity, Olivia, and Alice, followed their mother in. Smiling and gracious, they carried themselves with poise, but none of them, except Alice, had an ounce of their mother's indefinable charm. Alice, who was a dark, velvety creature with hair like the night and eyes that shone like stars, could have lit up the room on her own account. And when she smiled and said: "Good afternoon," every lady suddenly felt as though it was, indeed, the very best afternoon she had ever lived through.
Alice reminded Di slightly of Blair, and vaguely remembered Tricia mentioning once that she was his favorite sister, though there were six years between them—he was twenty and she fourteen.
"My," said Aunt Jen. "I suddenly feel as though even being a Pringle isn't so much to boast about."
And Di, who was proud from the top of her curly crown to her very toes of being a Blythe, couldn't help but feel the same.
As though a fresh breeze had entered the room with the Giraud ladies, everyone suddenly smiled and was much more gracious. Di even relaxed enough to venture out from Aunt Jen's side and meet some of the more kind-appearing ladies, several of whom were very interested in the Home and what they could do to support it.
Mrs. Kennedy appeared in their midst right when Di was describing some of Bran's and the twins' livelier antics.
"My, my," she said with a chilly smile. "They certainly are practicing new methods of discipline with children these days. Such behavior would never have been tolerated by the asylums of my day."
With difficulty, Di controlled her flash of temper and managed to give an easy laugh. "Oh, we still discipline, Mrs. Kennedy, but really, I see no point for children to be bullied and squelched, simply because they've been unfortunate enough to lose their parents, do you?"
The group around her held their breath at hearing someone so young address Mrs. Kennedy so audaciously. Di herself felt as though she had committed lèse-majesté when Mrs. Kennedy glared right through her with those steel blue eyes.
"So tell me, my dear," with a patronizing tone, "Has anyone adopted these un-squelched children of yours, or are they still living off the charity of the citizens of this city?"
In her anger, Di forgot what Aunt Jen had told her about Mrs. Kennedy's disapproval of Aunt Leslie, and spoke unthinkingly. "Why, as a matter of fact, the twins were adopted by a dear friend of mine: Miss Persis Ford, daughter of Owen and Leslie Ford. Perhaps you've heard of them?"
Mrs. Kennedy raised one thin eyebrow. "You are friends with the Ford family?"
"More than that," Di said triumphantly. "My sister is married to their son, Kenneth Ford." Too late, she remembered that Mrs. Kennedy held a grudge against the Fords, and closed her mouth hastily, but the damage was done.
Mrs. Kennedy's face turned white, with two little spots of red on her cheeks, but before she could speak, one of the other ladies blundered in, hoping to ease what she saw as an unnecessarily tense situation.
"Kenneth Ford? I think I've heard of him. Isn't he the assistant editor of the Saturday Evening? Quite an up-and-coming young fellow, so I've been told—in fact, I hear that there's talk of promoting him to full editor in a few years."
A small gasp was heard from Mrs. Stuart, who glanced at her mother with a frightened expression.
Mrs. Kennedy's glare froze even more, but when she spoke, it was in a calm, icily cold voice. "We do not read that rag in this household," she said contemptuously.
With that, she turned her back on Di and ignored her for the rest of the afternoon. Worried and confused, Di crept back to Aunt Jen's side.
"What was that all about?" she whispered. "What's wrong with the Saturday Evening?"
Aunt Jen shook her head with a concerned expression. "I don't know, but I'm afraid"—looking at Di's face, still young and hopeful, she closed her mouth with a snap and would not say what it was she feared.
But Di still worried, and the tea was spoiled for her—she couldn't even feel much of a thrill when Sara Stanley came over and actually spoke to her, inquiring about the Home and praising all her efforts for the children there.