Leah and Freddy couldn't postpone their trip, so they left as scheduled the next day, with Jack promising to follow them out as soon as he could arrange things back in Avonlea. They would get married in England, a blow to the Wrights, who couldn't possibly imagine traveling that far for a wedding.
Then Leah wrote and informed Jessie she had already purchased tickets for all of them—Fred, Diana, Anne Cordelia and her brood, and Young Fred and Jessie and their two—to come out.
"I won't take no for an answer, Jessie dear," she wrote. "So you might as well accept the fact that you will come. And I want all of you to stay for a while—you were so gracious and hospitable to Freddy and me, and I want to return the favor."
She wanted Di to come out as well, but that was impossible. Even with only three children left, Di didn't feel as though she could justify making such a journey for only a wedding.
Besides, in her heart of hearts, although she was glad to her core for her two friends, she wasn't sure she could bear being around such joy. Life was very wearying around the Home now.
To be sure, Polly was as sweet and charming, Bran as mischievous and lovable, and Peter as quiet and calm, and Di still loved them dearly. She knew more children would come in time, but she just wasn't sure she had the heart for this anymore.
"I don't know what's wrong with me," she said one day, ruffling her hair impatiently. "All I ever do is feel sorry for myself. Diana Blythe, I'm ashamed of you! This life was your choice. You could have gotten married and settled down like Nan and Rilla. You didn't want that kind of life; you wanted to do something different, something meaningful and important! Well, what you are doing is still worthwhile, even if you are tired of it. So stop feeling sorry for yourself and get on with life!"
She went and found little Polly and took her for a walk, shaking off her blues and enjoying the fresh spring air.
The day was bright and warm, the little girl happy and contented, and Di felt her troubles start to melt away.
"There is joy to be had in merely living," she said silently to herself. "No matter what the circumstances, just being alive is reason enough to be glad. So the man I love is marrying another woman. Is that any reason to poison my entire life until everything is gloomy and dull? God is still in heaven—He had given me life and a family and a duty—isn't that enough? Think of all the true suffering there is out there in the world—I have absolutely no excuse for my selfish wallowing in self-pity."
Preoccupied with such thoughts, Di would have walked all afternoon, but Polly's short five-year-old legs soon tired, and they turned back.
Still, the walk had done her a great deal of good, and that night at the dinner table, the children saw with pleasure that Mother Di was her old self again, laughing and loving.
Di felt ashamed of herself when their eyes brightened and they visibly relaxed. Had she really been that gloomy lately, that even the children felt they had to tip-toe around her?
Determined to make amends, she played with them after the meal, and when they went up to bed, she went upstairs with them.
Sitting at the foot of Peter's bed, with Polly snuggled in her lap, Di opened the book in her hands.
"I haven't read to any of you for a while," she said. "So I thought perhaps we'd start a new story. How does that sound?"
They were thrilled, and Di opened the book, The Enchanted Castle. "I was eleven years old when this book was published, and it became my favorite story. I've read it every year since then, and I think you'll enjoy it, too."
"You were eleven once?" Bran asked incredulously.
Di laughed and leaned over to tickle his stomach. "Of course I was, silly. What did you think?"
He laughed, too. "I can't see you as a little girl."
"What were you like?" Peter joined in.
Di smiled reminiscently. "I had long red braids, lots of freckles, and got into nearly as much trouble as Bran, here."
They all three laughed at that.
"You? Get into trouble? I don't believe it," Peter said.
"I'll tell you sometime about the time I ran away for the night to stay with my friend Jenny Penny," Di smiled. "But for now, the story."
The boys lay back comfortably, and Polly settled her head against Di's chest, and Di began to read:
" 'There were three of them—Jerry, Jimmy, and Kathleen. Of course, Jerry's name was Gerald, and not Jeremiah, whatever you may think; and Jimmy's name was James; and Kathleen was never called by her name at all, but Cathy, or Catty, or Puss Cat, when her brothers were pleased with her, and Scratch Cat when they were not pleased.' "
And with that, they were swept into a tale of princesses, magic castles, enchanted rings, and three children very much like them.
Di herself got lost in the tale, and it wasn't until very late that she came to herself and stopped.
"Well," she said softly, looking at Polly, sound asleep in her arms, and Bran, who was heavy-lidded and yawning. "I think we'll have to go on with this another night."
She stood up and kissed each of the boys on his forehead. "Goodnight, my dears."
"Goodnight, Mother Di," they chorused sleepily.
Di left them, laid Polly down in her own bed, and went downstairs for her ritual nighttime check of everything before going to bed.
Within moments, she had burst back into the boys' room.
"Peter—Bran!" she said sharply, and her voice had that note which is never disobeyed. Both boys sat up at once.
"Put some clothes on at once and wait here for me," she said tersely.
"What is"—Peter started to ask.
"Just obey me!" she ordered, and left for Polly's room.
She was back in a moment, carrying the still-sleeping Polly, wrapped in a blanket, in her arms.
"Follow me," she commanded.
She led them out into the hall, where a thin haze was in the air. Di took a deep breath.
"Boys," she said, turning to face them. "The Home is on fire. I need you to stay right behind me—take each other's hands—and follow me out the front door. Do not stop or panic, do you understand?"
Eyes wide in white faces, they nodded.
"Good. Let's go."
Walking slowly but purposely, Di led them down the stairs. The smoke was heavier here, and they could see a red glow coming from the direction of the kitchen, but such was the strength of Di's will that, even though their legs were trembling with fear, they kept going. Peter, holding tight to Bran's hand, reached out with his free hand and clutched the back of Di's dress, afraid of losing her in the smoke.
"We're almost to the door," Di called back. "You're doing marvelously. Keep it up."
A few more feet, and they were out into the fresh air, smudged with smoke and coughing, but not even singed.
Di hurried them across the street, where they turned and looked back. Smoke was pouring from the downstairs windows now, and they could even see flames from the kitchen.
"Peter," Di said urgently. "Run next door and ask them to phone the fire department. Maybe we can still save the house."
He nodded soberly and shot off. Bran started to cry.
"What is it, Bran, were you burned?" Di inquired, setting Polly down on the ground and kneeling next to the little boy.
He shook his head, still sobbing. "Where will we go if it burns down?" he asked finally, wiping his nose on his sleeve. "Will we have to live in the streets?"
Di wrapped her arms around him. "Never. Don't worry, Bran, darling. I'll always take care of you, no matter what happens.
Peter came back with the neighbors, an older couple who had often scowled at the noisy children next door. Now, however, they were full of kind concern.
"What a mercy you noticed it!" the woman exclaimed. "How was it that you weren't asleep?"
"I'd been reading a story to the children," Di explained. "We lost track of time …" her voice trailed off as she realized that, had they been in bed by the usual time, the fire could have spread and trapped them upstairs before they noticed it. She hugged her three children and thanked Providence.
"Here, miss, why don't you let me and my missus take you all to our home for now?" the man offered. "It's a cold night, the fire department's on its way, and you can rest in there until they need you."
Di was touched by their offer. "Thank you, and I gladly accept on behalf of the children," she replied. "But I think I should stay here."
They nodded understandingly, and the woman shepherded the boys back over to her house, promising them hot cocoa and cookies, Peter carrying his little sister.
"Thank you," Di said again to the man.
He wrinkled his face. "Now, now, no need to thank us. It's the Christian thing to do. We may have been a little … hard on the young ones in the past, but we'd never want a thing like this to happen."
Di wrapped her arms around herself and turned back to watch the house. Even after the fire department came and started working to save it, she knew it was no good. She watched her dream, her livelihood, and her home crumble into ashes, and she wondered what on earth she was going to do now.
Author's Note: Here's a little twist for you all! The next chapter is in the process of being written, but it's not complete yet, so I'm afraid I'll have ot leave you hanging for a few days yet. As always, please review and tell me what you think!
The Enchanted Castle was written by E. Nesbit