Nan was as good as her word, and between her efforts and Rilla's, Mrs. Kennedy soon was forced to retire from the field, defeated.
Di was shaking hands with yet another of Jerry and Nan's political allies as they left the Home, when she saw a sleek, expensive car pull up front. A man in a smart chauffeur's uniform hopped briskly out and opened the back door, revealing, to her shock, Mrs. Kennedy's daughter, Mrs. Stuart.
Dressed elegantly in a grey fur coat and hat, she stood uncertainly on the front steps for a few moments, until Di came down to meet her.
"Mrs. Stuart?" she asked graciously, wondering what on earth she was doing here. "May I help you with something?"
"Miss Blythe," the other lady said, relief showing in her blue eyes. "Might I have a word with you?"
"Of course; come inside," Di said. "It's far too cold to stand to on the steps talking!" she added with a little laugh as they came inside, trying to set Mrs. Stuart at ease.
"Yes, our Toronto winters can be very bitter," Mrs. Stuart agreed. She waited until they were in Di's office, before bursting out:
"Miss Blythe, I really must apologize for my mother's actions against you and this asylum. Oh! I don't expect you to understand why she did it, but …"
Di looked her over curiously. "Mrs. Stuart, I don't hold you responsible for your mother's deeds. You have no need to apologize to me."
"Oh, but I do. This is all my fault … oh, how can I make you understand?"
Di felt a great wave of pity for this poor woman, twisting her hands together so nervously. "I understand more than perhaps you think, Mrs. Stuart. You see, my brother-in-law is acquainted with your—with your husband, Andrew Stuart, and he has filled me in on the likely reasons behind your mother's actions."
Mrs. Stuart looked relieved and ashamed at the same time. "Then you see why I must apologize. Were it not for my foolishness, my mother would hold no rancor toward Prince Edward Island or the Saturday Evening. Oh, I was so ashamed of what she was doing … trying to destroy something as noble as this Home!... but she would not listen to anything I said. She was so furious when you circumvented her … I don't think she expected an Island girl to have such powerful allies."
"I don't," Di admitted frankly. "But my sister does, and she would stop at nothing to help me. That's what family does, you know."
"Is it?" Mrs. Stuart muttered bitterly. She caught Di's eye and flushed. "Forgive me … I'm so nervous I don't know what I'm saying. My mother doesn't even know I'm here … if she found out she would be terrible! But I couldn't … I couldn't let you think I didn't care at all about this. Oh! Do say you forgive me."
"Why, I still don't think you have done anything to require my forgiveness," Di said. "However, if it makes you feel better, I can tell you with all my heart that I hold no bitterness toward you—or to your mother, even," finding the words true even as she spoke them. "It—hurts—slightly, to be so viciously attacked for no other reason besides my background and family—and we all want to be liked, you know, for who we are—but I'm not angry."
"How?" Mrs. Stuart asked in genuine bewilderment. "How can you possibly not be angry at Mother for what she tried to do?"
Di smiled a little as she tried to put words to her half-formed thoughts and feelings. "I'm not sure how, but it just seems like such—like such a waste, to be angry. Life is short, and I don't want to spend it miserably, dwelling on wrongs done to me, and hating everyone around me. My mother always taught us to not hold grudges, that it poisons everything … she knows from personal experience how foolish it is. Hatred affects every part of you, cutting off and choking everything good, until nothing is left but the hate … and then one day you wake up and don't even remember why you started hating in the first place, and all you have left then is an empty shell."
Di stopped and laughed in some embarrassment. "I'm sorry, please forgive my ramblings."
But Mrs. Stuart didn't look remotely amused. Instead, she leaned forward and impulsively grasped Di's hand. "I wish I could be like you," she said soberly.
With that, she left, leaving Di somewhat bemused, but feeling very sorry for the poor woman trapped with angry old Mrs. Kennedy, caught like a butterfly in a net, with no apparent escape.
There was one unexpected effect from Nan's efforts on Di's behalf. During the next several months, more and more wealthy families came to the Home to adopt children, taking them away faster than they were coming in, until by March, Peter, Polly, and Bran were the only ones left.
Di couldn't help but be perplexed by the way it was all working out, but she was genuinely thrilled to see her children all placed taken such good care of.
She had mortally offended one or two couples whose money could not buy peace or love for the children, but for the most part, she was happy to give them up.
"I do believe we have become the latest fashionable trend," Leah said amusedly. "Looking for a new form of entertainment? Try the Shirley-Stedman Home, where children are always in style!"
Di laughed. "I hope it's more than that, but even so, it's nice to see them all so well-placed."
"Indeed. One might even say that Mrs. Kennedy turned out to be a blessing in disguise, seeing how it has all turned out."
"I suppose one might," smiled Di.
Things became much more peaceful after that. During the day when the boys were at school, it was just Di, Leah, and Polly in the big brick house. Little Polly adored being the center of attention, but both Di and Leah started feeling a bit restless.
"I declare," Leah said in a rare bit of impatience one day, "I would never wish losing one's parents on any child, but surely there are some street children or something we can take in!"
Di's lips curved ruefully. "It's not quite that simple. I can't just go pluck children randomly off the street, you know."
"I shall go mad if I don't have something to do soon," Leah admitted. "My life has been so hectic these last few years, that I can't seem to settle down to anything simple and serene. Don't we need to fight a few more battles with Mrs. Kennedy?"
"Why don't you go back to Avonlea?" Di suggested. "I'd hate to lose you here, but it really is slightly silly to have two of us—and Emma and Mrs. Goccia—just to take care of four children. I know Jessie would be delighted to have you back."
Leah shook her head. "I would love to go back, but I think—I really do think—that it's time Freddy and I went back to England."
Di sighed. "I was afraid that was coming. At least in Avonlea you'd be in the same country."
"Don't fret, my friend, England isn't that far away. We'll be back for visits, and you know that you are welcome any time."
Di raised a wry eyebrow. "My dear Lady Leah, I haven't been to my own home in nearly three years. What makes you think I could take a trip to England?"
Leah laughed warmly. "You know you'd be welcome any time."
"Thank you."
True to her word, Leah started making travel arrangements the very next day for her and Freddy to leave Canada. The first thing she did was send a telegram off to her steward, instructing him to make ready for their arrival. After that, it was steamer tickets, travel documents for Freddy, and a hundred other little things Di would never have thought of. She was amazed at Leah's efficiency.
"If I ever do travel," she said in mock awe, "I'll be sure to have you take care of all my arrangements."
"After all the traveling I've done just to find Freddy, it would be rather embarrassing if I weren't good at this!" Leah responded merrily.
Her spirits rose exponentially the closer it came to time for them to leave, while Di's sunk further and further down.
It wasn't so much the work anymore, but the thought that she was going to be left all alone—no Tricia, no Leah, and, worst of all, no Patrick. Could she really go on, for years and years, until her life had slipped away in a blur of dull sameness?
She thought of Shirley, alone at Green Gables—but he had the twins to keep him company as the years went by. Rilla, Nan, Jem—they all had spouses and children. She had no one: the only man she could ever think of marrying was about to wed another woman; her last friend was getting ready to leave her; and one by one, her children were being adopted. Even if she got new ones, they would eventually be adopted as well. What did she have to look forward to but loneliness?
Once or twice, she almost wished Mrs. Kennedy had been successful in shutting them down—at least then she'd have an excuse to go home—but she always pushed the thought away as unworthy and morbid.
"I must cheer up," she muttered fiercely to herself. "I will not allow myself to drag me down!"
She remembered a quote from Shakespeareshe had learned in school:
"Muster your wits; stand in your own defense."
"That's what I have to do," she decided. "If I do nothing, doom and gloom will overwhelm me. I am a rational, mature woman; I am not an adolescent to be tormented by 'moods.' The only person who has any control over how I feel is me: not Tricia, not Leah, not the children, not—not even Patrick."
This resolve helped get her through the next few weeks with a smile and pleasant attitude, no matter how many tears she shed into her pillow at night.
Spring was just starting to make herself known: pussy willows were peeking their furry heads out along the sides of the streets; a thin gauze of green seemed to be thrown over the trees; the snow was almost all melted away; and a few birds had even returned to cheer the pink and yellow sunrises.
At the Home, Leah and Freddy were leaving the next day. Di was in the kitchen with Mrs. Goccia, planning an elaborate going-away meal, when an angry peal at the doorbell echoed through the house.
"Santa Maria!" Mrs. Goccia exclaimed, throwing her floury hands up into the air. "It's the evil woman again, come to torment us and throw the bambinos into the streets."
"I doubt that's Mrs. Kennedy," Di tried to soothe the nervous woman. "You take care of the bread; I'll see who's at the door."
Crossing the hall, she was just a few steps ahead of Leah, coming out of the playroom, as Emma opened the door and ushered in—
Jack Wright, to Di's utter shock.
Without looking at her or Emma, without even seeming to notice his surroundings or anything else, he limped across the hall to Leah and took her hands in his.
"You're leaving?" he said, anguish evident in his voice.
Leah's face showed no emotion, but her voice trembled slightly. "I must. It's time for Freddy to take up his duties—and now that Di had everything under control here at the Home, there's nothing to keep me in Canada."
His grip tightened to a point where he must have been crushing her hands, but she made no noise. "Nothing? All those months, those long talks—Leah, you didn't even tell me you were leaving! I had to find out from Shirley!"
Good old Shirley, Di thought. She supposed she really ought to leave the two of them alone, but seeing as how Emma was still standing at the door, her eyes popping and her mouth hanging open, Mrs. Goccia was peeking out from the kitchen with a rolling pin in her hand, ready to defend her bambinos if necessary, and the four children were hovering in the doorway of the playroom, listening for all they were worth, she didn't really think it was too nosy of her to stay. Jack didn't seem particularly worried about privacy—besides, she wanted to know what was going to happen!
"I didn't think you'd be interested," Leah said.
"Not interested? Leah!"
"I have been here since July, and in all that time, not one word has come from you! Not a note, not a letter, not even a brief 'hello' in Jessie's letters! What was I to think but that you had gone back to wallowing in self-pity, and had forgotten all about me?"
Jack's dark eyes burned with intensity. "I could never forget you," he said, his voice low and passionate. "You're in my soul … my very blood. I didn't write because—because—well, look at me, Leah! I'm a poor farmer from Prince Edward Island, who can't even farm well because of a limp. You're British nobility. I have nothing to offer you. It's presumptuous for me to even think of you."
"You idiot," she said with equal force. Di had never seen the composed Lady this worked up. Her dark eyes flashed, and her usually pale cheeks were bright red. "Do you think I care about that? What is money? What is a title, even? If it didn't stop me from being your friend in Avonlea, why do you think it would make a difference now? My parents are gone. My elder brother is gone. There is no one to make any objection, and even if there were, I wouldn't care! I can make my own decisions, Jack, and I do not make them based on something as silly as class differences. Do you think we are living in the eighteenth century? Or do you simply think me a snob?"
"No! Never. I just …" Jack's voice trailed off. "I'm a broken man, Leah. You know how badly. Even if you had no title, I still could never be worthy of you."
"Then why are you here now?" she inquired frostily.
"Because … because I'm weak. Because when I heard that you were going back to England I felt worse than I had ever in my life, even after I was first wounded. I'm here because, even though I don't deserve you, I'm selfish enough to want you … to need you in my life. So here I am, hating myself for doing this, but doing it anyway."
He couldn't get down on one knee, but Jack made the question impressive enough as it was.
"Lady Leah Mercer, will you marry me?"
Di put both her hands to her mouth to hold back the small gasp that threatened to escape. Mrs. Goccia let out a muffled whoop, and Freddy nearly fell over.
Leah spoke slowly and evenly. "You claim that you are broken and unworthy of me, but so am I. We've been through enough hurt alone—I think it's time we allowed ourselves to help each other heal." Her sweet smile broke out over her face. "Yes, John Wright, I will marry you."
And right there, ignoring the jubilant spectators, Jack swept her into his arms and kissed her soundly.
Author's Note: Yay! This last part of the chapter was so much fun to write. I hope you all enjoy it as much as I did. By the way, the Shakespeare quote is from Love's Labour Lost, but I read it first in Maud Hart Lovelace's Emily of Deep Valley. It's an absolutely wonderful book, and if you haven't read it, you need to. (Her Betsy-Tacy series is wonderful, as well) Let me know what you think of this chapter! Only a couple more to go--things are winding down.