Beloved people! I'll say it again, transitional chapters are paaaaaaaainful. Necessary, but painful- and it took a solid week of hammering this particular one out. (You know, between family and work and sleep and my favourite bit: a quick break last night to go and see the third Thor movie. It's such a delightfully Aussie one!)

Nevertheless, I am quite pleased with the result. There are two chapters to go before the epilogue- and then as the ultimate of finales, a bonus for you all AFTER the epilogue, where I will attempt to answer your questions about Gilbert and Anne's Happily Ever After- what happened to Leslie? How many children did they have, who were they, and did any of them have to go to war? What did Owen do when he found out Anne and Gil got married? What happened to Andrew? Do Penny and Jeremy get married? And if Gilbert wasn't talking about Anne in delirium, what was he talking about? This last 'chapter' will be more of a letter to you all- and consider that my thanks for coming with me on this journey, one that has made me work harder to write than I ever have before. I've loved it- and I'm so grateful to you all for the way you have responded to it.

Love, Cate.

Five…

Chapter 38

It was four weary travellers who alighted on the platform at Glen St Mary on an early July afternoon, to be met by a Susan almost bursting with excitement. Anne went straight into her housekeeper's arms, who then held her at arm's length to inspect her.

"Anne dearie, where is your walking stick?" she said, scandalised.

Gilbert handed it to his fiancée with a smile. "Here, Susan. She just wanted to show off a little."

"Gilbert Blythe!" Anne said indignantly, making him laugh.

"She loves calling me that," he commented cheekily. He winked at Anne then, leaving them to talk as Andrew walked up with a tired and grumpy Lizzie in his arms.

"Remind me not to do that again," Andrew said, settling the little girl down with a groan. "I'm here to stay. Never going anywhere ever again."

Gilbert began to laugh, bending to pick up the hand luggage Anne had placed down. "Bit over-dramatic, don't you think? And you promised your parents you'd go back every year."

"Well, I'm sick next summer," Andrew said crossly. "I will be suffering from the black plague and can't travel."

"Fine. Just don't expect me to be caring for you and your imaginary illnesses."

Gilbert stood still for a moment, relishing in the freshness of the air. Compared to the smoke of the train and the atmosphere of the big cities, the breeze that hit the travellers when they alighted was fresh and cool, carrying the tang of the firs and the smell of the distant shore. He turned to greet the station master, who was coming up behind the gentlemen with a trolley of bags from the train.

"Doc, I don't mind telling you that it's good to have you home again." He looked slightly guilty then and hurried on. "Not that the young doc isn't any good- he fixed ma's knee up real good- but just doesn't know us all like you do." Andrew snorted, no doubt in amusement at the same thing Gilbert noticed- when exactly had he stopped being the 'young' doc himself? Gilbert chuckled, offering his hand for a hearty handshake.

"It's alright. I'm glad to be back home too."

"Until you're off for your honeymoon, at least," Stan said easily, looking toward Anne, her arm casually looped through Susan's as they chatted. "Susan Baker tells me the wedding is soon, Doc."

Gilbert's smile was huge. "In a month," he said proudly, turning to watch her. "Only four weeks to go. Isn't she beautiful?"

Stan grinned. "Ah, you've got it bad, Doctor Blythe- but she is, for all that. Folks have been wondering what took you so long- they said you grew up together."

Gilbert laughed somewhat wryly. "Timing, Stan. Timing is everything."

He moved then to collect the bags, smiling at the extra trunk that had been needed to transport the trousseau home again. Even then, on the day they had left he had heard Penny assuring Anne that if she needed anything else, she only had to write, and she would take care of it herself. Anne had been most adamant that she had everything she needed, privately admitting to Gilbert that she shouldn't need to buy anything for several years. He'd only smiled. He knew she'd done it for his sake.

The clothing had been a stubbornly fought battle between the two of them, in the days leading up to the operation. Anne had arrived home exhausted from the first day of shopping, her auburn brows knitted in concern. When the Winston women had gone upstairs to rest, he had set her on the sofa beside him in the dim parlour, the curtains drawn by the staff to block out the afternoon sunlight.

"What troubles you, sweetheart?"

"What makes you think something is?"

Gilbert bent in close until his nose touched her own. "Because I can tell. How did it all go today?"

Anne's look was chagrined. "Penny and Mrs Winston have been so kind, Gil-"

"Yes, but that wasn't what I asked," he reminded her.

Anne smiled at him regretfully. "I told them what I was looking for, and I hated to disappoint them, however, I simply don't need what they are suggesting."

Gilbert turned to face her, his look kind. "Anne, is it really about need, at this point?"

She frowned, unable to follow his logic. "Gilbert, I need a wedding dress, and perhaps a gown or two. The rest I can do at home."

"But then why not take care of it here, when we have the time and opportunity?" he said, unanswerably. "We'll only have a month when we get home, sweetheart- we'll be readying Ingleside, preparing to leave two other houses, not to mention all of the fuss of the wedding."

Anne sighed in exasperation. "And that is another reason not to spend a fortune on clothing that I do not need!"

"Well, I for one would like to see you get things that you do not need!" he shot back, surprising her with his vehemence. "We're not having an elaborate wedding, the house is paid for, and I have a successful practice- not to mention that the school will still be paying you into next year. We don't 'need' anything, apart from a bit of furniture." He'd eyed her sternly, then. "Anne, I've watched you make practical decisions, over and over in the past nine months. I honour and respect you for the way that you did- and it was important in that season," he said, his voice softening. "But it's over now. I know that you don't find your value in things- but for once, I would like to see you buy something, purely because you enjoyed it."

Anne rose to her knees on the settee, quite taken aback at his emotion. She took his face in her hands, studying him carefully. "Why, Gilbert?"

"I just told you why!"

She smiled, unafraid of his ire. "Yes, but it's irrational, dearest. And that is most unlike you."

He scowled, nevertheless kissing her palm gently. "I've never been rational about you."

She chuckled. "That much is obvious." She looked at him tenderly. "Do you not see that I have you? That's all I need. And I thought you wanted to keep everything simple."

Gilbert grinned. "That was until you brought up the inappropriate nightwear."

Anne laughed, her cheeks warming. "Trust you to not forget that, dearest."

Gilbert's eyes traced the delicate lines of her face and sighed. "Look, Anne, I can just as easily have Penny write down everything, and I'll get her to order it for you anyway," he said frankly with a shrug. "I want this for you. We will be here for a month in any case- and I would love to see you simply enjoy yourself shopping."

Anne's nose wrinkled. "Which means-"

"Everything."

"Within reason."

"No, slightly outside of reason," he retorted. "Shall we see what Mrs Winston thinks? I'm sure she can put together a sizable list-"

Anne flung her hands up, her silver laugh echoing in the large room. "Gilbert Blythe, if this is how you plan on winning arguments in the future, I can assure you that-" Her voice was only broken off by the sensation of his warm lips on the curve of her neck, his large hand splayed across the small of her back possessively. "Oh, alright, Gil," she murmured with a dreamy sigh, her fingers in his brown curls. "I give in."

When Gilbert had dropped everyone at home, and after parting with Anne with definite reluctance, he drove the short distance to his house with a sigh. Inside, he found that Susan had scrubbed it within an inch of its life, and the windows gleamed quite extraordinarily. He gave a small chuckle. He thought he'd done a rather good job of keeping the house over the last few months- however, Susan's efforts had made his own look paltry. There was food in the pantry, and clean clothes hanging on the rail, a pile of mail that Susan had collected, and a heavily scribbled-in notebook that Doctor Shelby had left for Gilbert to peruse. He had spoken to the young man on the telephone while he was away about various patients, and Susan reported that Miss Cornelia had admitted that there was some sense to him. For a stranger and a young man, there was no higher praise that Miss Cornelia could give. He smiled. For the next month, Doctor Shelby would work alongside him, and he would step into the breach again while he and Anne were away on their honeymoon.

Gilbert dropped his bags on the floor of his room and fell onto the bed with a sigh. He'd been so grateful for the opportunity to go with Anne- not that he had seriously considered her going without him. Gilbert's respite in Montreal was shamefully overdue. He'd not had a holiday since the summer after they had graduated- and typhoid had been a definite fly in the ointment that year. The summer afterwards he had worked at the paper- for the second, he had gone to work on the railway out west. Gilbert shuddered in remembrance. Long, backbreaking days, dirt that took weeks to disappear after scrubbing until his skin was raw, and constant calls away from his textbooks at night just to check Johnston's elbow- or Flanagan's abscess- or cure the bosses' hangover. They hadn't cared that he was only a second-year medical student- only that he was present and wouldn't charge.

Gilbert looked back soberly at the decisions he had made. He'd needed to work to pay his way- the Cooper had only covered so much. Always in the back of his mind was the practice he would need to set up one day, the supplies he would need, especially if he needed to travel. Montreal hadn't seemed a reality at first- in his final year, he'd wondered if he should simply head for the Glen after graduation. He and Jeremy had travelled instead to the great hospital, with glowing letters of recommendation from the head of the medical school. They had stayed in a dingy hotel Gilbert had found in the French quarter of the city, with chattering young ladies watching the handsome men exit the building, giggling when Jeremy asked them for directions to the hospital in his best attempt at French.

After a brief nap in his own bed, Gilbert arose and began to unpack his bag as the shadows of the day lengthened. He stretched out stiff and sore muscles, thinking that the trip home had not been widely different from the one they had taken a month ago- Lizzie had caught a slight cold from one of her cousins and was consequently more subdued than she had been on the long trip to Montreal. She was happy to doze on her father's lap for much of the journey and even forgot to demand ice cream at every station. Anne, on the other hand, had insisted on walking up and down the aisles carefully, shooing Gilbert back into his seat to relax. She well remembered the stiffness she had felt at the other end, and wanted to ease Susan's mind by walking off the train by herself.

When he was done, Gilbert looked around the dingy bedroom, realising that his time in this house was coming to a close. The home he had pulled around him with Anne's return to his life had only been temporary- it had never truly been home. There was another house waiting- a big, rambling house with wide verandas, and welcoming doors, rooms that waited to be filled with life and laughter. There would be firelight gleaming on cold winter nights, pictures of loved ones on the mantelpiece and pools of sunlight falling on wooden floors. There was a garden where pixies would dwell, and trees to gladden Anne's heart- and then Gilbert's heart seemed to fill, almost to bursting. The room that had been occupying his attention most of all- the one in which they would see the sunrise together in the morning, and see the starlight from the safe haven of their bed. That Anne Shirley would be sharing it with him in only a matter of weeks- well, surely that had to make him the luckiest fellow on earth.

On a windy evening, the kind that often foretold rain along the shore, Miss Cornelia settled in the armchair at Rosewood cottage, her sewing on her lap, and a look of satisfaction on her round, kind face.

"I've been coming to see you for a week now, Anne- it's always hard to get away from the farm in the summer. It is good to have you and the doctor back, Anne dearie. You look well rested- had you a nice time?"

Anne smiled. "I did- once the operation was done, in any case. I don't think I realised how tired I was after the school year until I was ordered to stay in bed for a week or so- I had to pretend to protest a little so that Gilbert wouldn't worry about me," Anne said candidly.

Susan clucked at her anxiously. "And yet you won't stay in bed when I suggest it!"

Anne laughed. "Susan dear, I have had nothing to do this week but rest- and I have had a marvellous time. The garden is coming along beautifully, and Gilbert says that the house is nearly finished- and you won't let me into the kitchen at all! I should say I am very well rested."

Miss Cornelia and Susan had been working on plans for the wedding with the young couple, trying to house the various families who would be travelling in for the wedding. Diana's parents would stay with Mr and Mrs Elliot, and Diana's own family would be staying at the cottage. Gilbert's parents would be at his house with Jeremy- and a worried Anne had suggested that perhaps anyone else could be housed at Ingleside. To this, Gilbert was firm in his refusal. He had organised a honeymoon that was as secluded and romantic as either he or Anne could wish- however, he was adamant that their wedding night would be spent in their own home.

This, however, was still several weeks away, and Miss Cornelia drew the cotton from her basket, keen to discuss with Anne the goings on of the Glen.

"We've had some mischief makers writing on fences, Anne dearie- I suspect the young Reece boys are involved. Mrs Reece just doesn't understand the concept of discipline," she said, exasperated. "Lord help us, the whole Glen would join in, if only she would put herself out a little. I do hate to see children becoming spoiled. And Sally Newman has finally found herself a man- her father didn't like him too much at first until he discovered that he has a farm that he will inherit someday. That made him look more appealing, I understand. Oh- and while you were away, Moira Douglas quit the choir again."

Susan protested at that. "She was rather provoked, you must admit that."

Miss Cornelia grimaced. "If her husband wasn't the director, or he had a stiffer backbone, she wouldn't have been asked to sing in the first place. It isn't surprising that a visiting minister complained." She chuckled then, placing even stitches on the bodice of a child's dress. "Old Captain Jim used to tell me that the Almighty was able to tell the difference between the voice of a crow and a nightingale. That may be, but our poor congregation has been subjected to the former a lot more."

Anne smiled, the pile of golden ruffles in her lap for the bedroom curtains steadily growing. Gilbert had asked her not to visit while the room was being finished, and Anne had agreed only if she was first supplied the dimensions she required. "He was fond of listening to music, Miss Cornelia?"

Cornelia chuckled. "I don't know dearie- but he was a rare old fellow. The shore hasn't been the same since he died."

Susan nodded, industriously stitching new hand towels. "That it hasn't. Anne, dearie, have you decided who will perform the wedding ceremony?"

Anne chuckled. "Yes, we have, at last. We were waiting to hear back from Kingsport. I should have loved to have had Reverend Allen- we did love him so. We received word from the Allens last week, and unfortunately, they will not be able to make it for the wedding. However the Reverend Jo and his wife are coming, much to our delight, and Phillipa assures me that he is raring to go."

Miss Cornelia looked at Anne in consternation. "That's a rather odd way for a minister to refer to something as solemn as a marriage," she commented, and Anne began to laugh.

"Oh, that wasn't Jo at all- that was Phil. You couldn't imagine anything further from solemn, in fact. She is a darling, though. She was in college with Gilbert and I many years ago. I am delighted that they could come- while I am sure that Reverend Toomey may be a very able minister-" she said before Mrs Marshall Elliot snorted inelegantly.

Susan spoke up then. "He is not the most cheerful of souls, I grant you."

"His mother was the same, Anne dearie. She used to visit the manse twice a year- much to his poor wife's consternation. On her last visit he took as his text- "It is all meaningless," Miss Cornelia said dryly. "It's the first time I ever heard that used for a Christmas message."

The following week, only two weeks before the wedding, Anne opened the door of the cottage to greet Gilbert's beaming face. She was quick to throw her arms around his neck, meeting him with a warm, lingering kiss.

"Is this what I can expect when I come home every day?" Gilbert said, grinning, his arms wrapped around her tightly.

Anne closed her eyes blissfully as his lips wandered to her cheeks and her hair and her forehead. "Every day, dearest." She frowned then, her hand brushing his cheek. "You do look tired, Gil."

He brushed off her concern with a shrug. "Justin wanted a second opinion on a patient- we went out to see him after rounds." He studied her carefully then. "And how are you, sweetheart? Do you feel up to a trip to the house?"

Anne looked at him indulgently, seeing the way he was almost bouncing on his heels. "Of course- let me go and tell Susan."

Within minutes they were heading toward Ingleside, talking about preparations for the wedding to come. Diana and Fred would come several days before the wedding, as would the Blythes. Sonia had written that they would be away from the farm for ten days- the longest John had been away from it since Alberta. Jerry Boute would be caring for the property while they were away, and John could be heard reassuring his cows that 'Uncle' George would make sure that they weren't overfed this time.

Gilbert lifted Anne down from the buggy, watching with pleasure the smile on her face. She walked up the pathway before him, and he studied her gait carefully. There was certainly a visible improvement since the operation- she was leaning on her stick less, and walking taller- something that made him smile. As he looked toward the future though, he could only suppose that there would be days when she wouldn't be so steady. A slightly discomposed Anne had told him that she had fallen only the day before- and that he mustn't worry. Wisely, he'd said nothing, but bandaged and soothed and held her close. It was still early days- but Gilbert sighed. In Montreal she had shared her fear that he would not accept it if she didn't recover. It wasn't him fighting this, he had realised- it was Anne herself.

She turned back to him then from the step, and he shook off his distraction. He walked to her, his feet crushing the mint that grew thickly by the stones, and wrapped his arms around her slim form.

Anne kissed him lightly, pulling back to study him. "What is it?" she asked softly.

Gilbert only shook his head, his heart full. "I'm just happy."

Anne beamed at him, taking his hand. "As am I. Now, show me our home, darling."

Gilbert unlocked the door, a task made all the more difficult when he refused to release Anne's hand. This done, the door opened into the spacious living room, and Anne looked around her with delighted eyes. She had admired the house immediately- comfortable and spacious, rooms that had character and warmth. She walked into the room, looking around at the furniture that was gradually being added to. Marilla's sideboard was there now, as was the desk Anne had studied at in the parlour at Green Gables. There were the round, braided mats that Marilla had made, and Mrs Lynde had insisted months ago that Anne take several of the cotton warp quilts she had pieced while Anne was in Summerside, made against the day when Anne would marry. Slowly, Anne found herself integrating pieces of her older life into the new one she and Gilbert were creating. There was a lingering ache in her from time to time as she did so- but even this was right, she decided. It was important to remember- and gradually, healing would begin to take place.

The house looked as it had the last time she had visited- except for a brand new set of doors on the east wing, the place they had selected for the new rooms. Gilbert took her hand in his and smiled. "Shall we?"

The two of them moved into the bedroom, and Anne smiled in pleasure at the lightness of the room, and the gleam of the wooden floors. It was unfurnished as yet, and she could see it taking shape in her mind- the filmy, yellow curtains on the window, and heavier drapes that would allow Gilbert to sleep in the daytime when necessary. The walls were the next thing that made her smile- after a day spent matching wallpapers and fabrics, Anne had selected a pale gold paper with intricate patterns of ivy traced over it. Susan had been partial herself to a bold rose paper- and Anne had only laughed, commenting that she and Gilbert were creatures of the woods- their room should be dressed accordingly. Susan's new room was then rose-spattered, much to her satisfaction.

Anne turned in time to see Gilbert pulling back the makeshift curtains, and her eyes widened in surprise. Behind them was a wide window seat, that overlooked the gardens and the grove of trees behind them.

"When did you decide on this, Gil?" she asked, her voice showing her delight. To her surprise, Gilbert's face flushed, and she stopped in her tracks. As a smile blossomed on her face, she drew close to her suddenly shy fiancé. "What is it about a window seat that should make you blush, dearest?"

Gilbert laughed, a hand coming up to ruffle his brown curls. "Well, it's the timing of the decision, I suppose." At Anne's raised eyebrow, he grinned sheepishly. "I was nineteen." Anne gave a slight choke of shock, her grey eyes twinkling, and he put his arms around her. "I used to come and pick you up. To go for walks, I mean."

Anne watched him in surprise. "From Green Gables?"

He nodded. "And your window looked down over the gate- and sometimes I used to wonder if you were standing, or kneeling there- or if it was comfortable for you-"

Anne looked at him in some amazement. "I would never have guessed you put so much thought into it, Gil."

His smile twisted mischievously. "I don't think you really want to know everything I was thinking about back then. Anyway, I had what I thought was a very sensible idea at the time- that you really should have a window seat to dream at. And- back then, when I had no real right to do so, I decided that our bedroom would have to have one."

Anne's laugh was sweet, slipping her arms around him. "That was quite audacious, my darling- and showed considerable confidence in yourself. Justifiably, too, it seems. Blythes are known for working hard to get what they want, aren't they?"

He snatched her close to kiss her, with a triumphant gleam in his eyes. "Yes. And I wanted you."

After Anne had thoroughly explored every part of the new bedroom, and the small room that led from it that would one day become the nursery, the two of them sat on a chaise that Mrs Morgan had left behind, a hideous orange and black piece of furniture. Susan wouldn't expect them home for dinner for an hour or so, and the two of them sat in silence, enjoying the peace and quiet. Anne relaxed in Gilbert's arms, listening to the steady sound of his heartbeat. He seemed content to be silent as well, having been up with babies for the past two nights. After a time he roused himself and turned to her, aware of how easily he could fall asleep again.

"What are you thinking of, Anne-girl?" he asked softly.

Anne gave a sigh of contentment. "Oh, that soon the wedding will be over, and we will be alone here together."

She felt his chuckle reverberate through her, and smiled. "Well, until we go on our honeymoon, at least. And no doubt Susan will be over each day to make sure we don't need anything."

Anne's cheeks were pink. "It might be a good plan to set up a time for her to come during the day."

"Why? It isn't as if she needs to-"

She chuckled. "I suppose that I meant that we might be thankful for some warning if she is coming."

"Really?"

Anne turned to him then, her blush deepening. "Gilbert, I do believe you are more in need of sleep than I realised- I am not being cryptic."

He sighed. "Probably not. But have pity on me, Anne-girl, spell it out for your tired almost-husband."

She looked at him lovingly and stood up to settle on his lap. He gave her an intrigued look, his arms surrounding her easily.

"I thought it might be a good idea for us to not to be surprised if we happen to be otherwise occupied, that's all."

Gilbert watched her carefully, and then burst into delighted laughter. "Ah, that's where you were heading- yes, alright, I see your point; let's give her a time then."

Anne's forehead rested against his own, her eyes closed. "We do need someone, and I can't think of anyone we would rather have than Susan, but I do wish we had a little time on our own as well."

Gilbert grinned. "Well, I have a little surprise for you. We're leaving for our honeymoon just two days after the wedding."

Anne turned in his arms, searching his face. "Are you sure? I thought you didn't want us to rush away."

He smiled, kissing the fingers that tenderly stroked his cheeks. "It occurs to me that people are not going to call on Justin if I'm still in town- the last week has certainly proved that. I thought that after all this time, you and I deserve some time to ourselves." His fingers traced her own, and he gave her a loving look. "Did you know I planned a honeymoon out for us all those years ago too?" Her eyes were enormous, and she stared at him in shock as he continued. "I planned that we would go to a distant shore, and we would stay in a wonderful hotel where all of our needs were catered for, and we wouldn't have anything to do but love each other."

Anne's cheeks heated, and her eyelashes lowered. "That sounds wonderful."

Gilbert bent to gaze into her eyes with a smile. "It does. And that's what we're doing. The summer I worked on the railway, I stopped in Victoria on my way back to Redmond. It's a beautiful town- and when it came time to start thinking about a honeymoon for us, I couldn't get it out of my mind. So, we are spending two weeks in one of Victoria's most exclusive hotels, and we will have staff to see to our every whim. And I can't tell you how much I'm looking forward to that."

Anne began to laugh in delight, throwing her arms around his neck. "It's wonderful, Gil. I did wonder how we would avoid your loyal patients, dearest. They adore you."

"Like you do?"

She beamed. "They couldn't possibly adore you like that, Gil. Else I would become far too jealous."

He held her close for a short time in silence and studied her face. "Sweetheart? Can I ask you something?"

Anne's only answer was to nuzzle into his neck, and he chuckled. "I'll take that as a yes. I only wondered- since we haven't really discussed this yet- are you- nervous?"

Anne sat back on his lap in surprise. "About marrying you?"

"No, I figure you've gotten used to that- I suppose I meant after- you and I together." His eyes were a curious mixture of brightness and hesitancy, and he knew that she understood him when her own cheeks flushed brightly.

"No."

Gilbert looked at her, as if hesitant to believe her words. "Are you quite sure, Anne?"

She fixed him with a loving look, her hands coming up to cup his face. "I am. You know every little thing about me, Gil. You know me better than anyone ever did- you've seen almost every hurt, every terrible thing that I have experienced- and you love me. If I can let you into every wounded part of my soul and know that you will deal gently with me, why would I ever fear your body knowing mine in the same way?"

Gilbert's breath was completely taken by her words, and he could only pull her close to kiss her with passion, loving the way she responded to him so eagerly. "Anne, how do you do that?" he said breathlessly. "How do you find the words to put it so beautifully?"

She chuckled, kissing the roughness of his jawline. "You inspire it, Gil. That's how."

He pulled her against him with a big sigh. "You need to start writing again, sweetheart."

Anne's smile was loving. "I already have. And you will see the proof of that when it is the right time."

Later that night, after Gilbert had gone home to hopefully sleep and Susan had retired for the night, Anne dressed for bed and wandered out into the kitchen to prepare a cup of tea for herself. Susan was learning to allow her to do these things for herself, and she looked down at her bare feet with some satisfaction. On impulse, she went to the back door, before slipping outside and into the garden that only months ago had been a hopelessly tangled mess. So she and Gilbert had been, she supposed. And yet, what impossible beauty had grown out of their heartache now?

Anne sat down on the garden seat on the moonless night, smiling up at the brilliance of the starlight on the hill. She breathed deeply of the perfume of the summer flowers, listening to the way the breeze moved through the pines. Through the open back door, a lamp glowed in the kitchen, and Anne smiled. There had been a night long ago when she had watched the stars twinkle from her room with a contentment like this- the same night she had held out her hand for Gilbert to take. Though time and heartbreak had seemingly altered her over the years, though distance and pain had taken from them both- she had kept the faith. Somehow, she had found Anne Shirley again, with the love and help of beloved people, both near and far. As the night wind made loose cherry blossoms dance in the darkness, the old lines of the poem rose to her lips, the echo of her younger self in the timeless words.

"God's in His heaven, all's right with the world," whispered Anne softly.*

*Anne of Green Gables