Author's Note: Whew! It's been a while since I updated, huh? Well, I've been a little busy, and on top of that, I've had horrible writer's block. However, I think I've sorted it out. This chapter is frightfully short, I'm afraid; it's a filler more than anything. And thanks for all the hits and reviews! Don't feel bashful about keeping up your brilliant work. And remember, I don't own anything of Anne.
Lilies of the Valley
Chapter 4—Then She Knew
It was after eleven o'clock when Anne returned to Green Gables that night. Both Marilla and Mrs. Lynde stayed up waiting for her in the kitchen. Anne said very little except that she would be returning to the Blythe homestead before daybreak. She volunteered no information about Gilbert, and neither of the old ladies dared to ask anything.
Mrs. Lynde shook her head gravely. "Well, Marilla," she sighed when she heard Anne's bedroom door close, "if Gilbert Blythe dies tonight, Anne will die too, in spirit. It'll haunt her the rest of her life, that's what."
"Stuff and nonsense," Marilla quipped, trying to sound scornful and failing miserably. Through pale lips she said weakly, "They'll both be fine."
But upstairs, Anne felt anything but fine. When she left the Blythes, Gilbert's condition had been worsening. She hadn't wanted to leave him. But Mrs. Blythe, alarmed by the younger girl's paleness of cheeks and darkness under the eyes, insisted upon taking her home, promising Anne that she could return after she'd slept a while.
Anne didn't argue, but neither did she sleep. She was too numb and exhausted, too worried. Her mind would not quiet. All that she could think about was Gilbert. She lay awake for hours, hoping that she would be able to see again the unmistakable warmth in the depths of his eyes, to hear his jaunty laugh; wondering whether the universe was now conspiring against her to make her pay for her youthful folly.
Anne laughed bitterly, remembering a tidbit she'd written for the old Story club years ago; a story with tragic circumstances very similar to the ones that faced her now. Back then, she considered such a thing to be enormously romantic. Now, there was no romance at all. Only heartbreak.
And she couldn't stand it.
Finally, after hours of staring at the ceiling, Anne rose from her bed, changing clothes and splashing her face with cold water before silently leaving the house.
It was two o'clock in the morning.
--
Anne was only partially inside the Blythe home before she realized that something was terribly wrong.
Dr. Spencer passed her as he stepped through the door on his way out. His face was drawn and grave. His eyes met hers for an instant—and then Anne knew.
She made her way blindly to Gilbert's room and stood in the doorway.
Gilbert's face was white. His chest no longer heaved for air. He appeared to be resting comfortably; he looked peaceful. He looked just the way Matthew had when—
Anne shuddered. Without asking any questions, without looking into Mr. Blythe's haggard face, without hearing Mrs. Blythe's broken sobs, Anne knew.
Gilbert was dead.
A/N: Ah! I bet you didn't expect me to throw you through that loop! Listen, I'm going on vacation and I'll be back in a week. Hopefully I'll be able to complete this story, and I'll upload after I return. In the meantime, I expect to get OODLES of reviews expressing your shock, outrage, and tear shed. Honestly! With giggles and winks,
----Sweet Singer2010