Ah well, well, well, I may be beguiled
By some coquettish deceit.
Yet, if she were not a cheat,
If Maud were all that she seem'd,
And her smile had all that I dream'd,
Then the world were not so bitter
But a smile could make it sweet.
Tennyson - Maud.
Ruby Gills, fair and handsome in her vivid cherry red silks, looked down from the choir balcony of Avonlea Church to the pews, and met Anne Shirley's bright greenish-grey gaze, which seemed more perceptive than their mutual days of girlhood. Ruby's slender hands clutched the Bible tightly, because suddenly it felt so very heavy. It was rumored in Avonlea that Anne had excelled at Redmond University, already in her first year, as she had won a Thorbury scholarship. Jane Andrews whispered her plans, as she was soon to be going up "West," as she was on a husband-hunt, or so the rumours said. Jane was still plain, but dependable as Avonlea Andrews always were, as it was said that the Gills girls were the most handsome, Ruby was the mos beautiful of all her sisters, it was known fact.
The summer evenings were warm, even sweltering, and very often the handsome house of the Gills was lit with gay lights, as the youths of Avonlea, Upper Grafon, and even White Sands, there laughed and sang, and no one was happier or more vivid than Ruby, but in quiet moments, in the evenings when the fever rose, and sleepless Ruby writhing in her sheets, she thought back to Boston, and that moment, that had changed everything, even though she didn't know it at the time.
How one waltz, and sightseeing, in a buggy, all over and cramped conditions in so polished looking boarding house could turn so wrong, like a dance step, that twisted ankle. The man had been so handsome, in his stylish latest fashion coat, and he had told Ruby all the right things that she had heard a thousand times before, but everything was different now, this time. For she was free, and now there was a chance to fly, and flirt, as much as her fun-loving heart could bear. And she did so with a wim. Weeks turned into months, Ruby enjoyed teaching, but not as much as the rest that living in a metropolis like Boston gave her, compared to sleepy old Avonlea. All those busy streets, diverse people, and children running on street corners, and the admiration of men, and long looks in the streets, as Ruby went in her new clothes in her errands.
One night, an envelope was left at Ruby's boardinghouse. There was a ticket, and a note.
Lovely Miss Gills, I took the liberty of very brazenly acquiring this, I want to experience this art experience with you.
Your most devoted, gallant servant,
F. P.
Amused, Ruby glanced at the ticket, and humming with satisfaction, she did her marking, for her upcoming class. And a couple of days later, handsome and dark, Frank Phillips, escorted Ruby to the opera. And the romantic, lingering music of Verdi, glowed as the beautiful and popular girl on stage died, very tragically.
Afterwards, Ruby wrote in her journal.
I have experienced to-day what no one in Avonlea has, the pleasures of the White Sands Hotel are nothing compared to Boston. And here even the churches are more beautiful than at home. I wish I could stay here forever. And Frank, how charming he is, but so pale, and poetic, dances beautifully. It must be admitted that I almost lost my senses, for a time, with him. Perhaps he is my Mr. Right after all!
Then autumn turned to winter, and one morning Ruby noticed that she wasn't feeling as well as before. Her sonsy competent landlady, who always reminded Ruby of Avonlea and Rachel Lynde, glanced at Ruby, and said in a low voice, "Listen, Miss Gills, you've been a good tenant, I keep a neat house here. There's word on the streets that there's a disease going around, I suggest that you move away, I can recommend another place."
But Ruby laughed at her carefree, captivating style, and said cheerfully, "But I'm having such a good time here, I won't leave, not yet." Landlady, Mrs. Rivers glanced over her glasses at her blond, handsome tenant, and muttered, "Don't say I didn't warn you, Miss. There's a mixed population in this area, but as long as I get the money from the rent, and you eat your breakfast, you look pale. Go buy some tonic at the corner drug store, there is a phthisis, on the move, as ever!" Ruby frowned, but that word meant nothing to her, not then.
Eventually, Ruby returned to Avonlea. There was a shadow over her that no one in the Gills family wanted to acknowledge in public. All the plans, teaching in the White Sands, they were postponed, as the verdant spring glowed and then the warm summer, arrived. Ruby stubbornly laughed and made plans, as always, refusing to hear or see the pity of the villagers, but then Anne arrived, and Ruby was given surprising strength to face the thing she had been avoiding.
The hot summer evening turned to moonlit, as Anne sat in the Gills family garden, next to Ruby, on a small bench, as Ruby rested in her hammock, but unlike all summer, tonight Ruby didn't talk about her cavaliers, or callers, her face was narrow, and her heavy golden blond braids fell heavily over her shoulders.
On the other side of the Gills' house was a cemetery, and a church. In the pale light of the moon, the line of crosses was clearly visible. And suddenly Ruby said sharply, with a steely tinge in her voice," Anne, it won't be long now before I'll be lying over there. You and Diana and all the rest will be going about, full of life—and I'll be there—in the old graveyard—dead" You know it, everyone knows it, and all this summer I've known it myself. You know I want to live, not for myself, but for Herb, for he is a true slpendid fellow. When I met him in the winter, at the train station at White Sands, for the first time, he looked at me with such kindness that I immediately wanted to be better than what my light, superficial life had been until then. But, it will not be, and my love for him will remain unfulfilled, and my siblings' children will continue to play, and you will all flourish here, and I will be eaten by worms and maggots!"
Anne, touched Ruby's narrow, long-fingered hand with mute sympathy, as Ruby continued lowly, almost rebelliously, "I fear death, the thought of eternity is terrifying, though of course Heaven is a beautiful place. Sure, I know my Bible verse, like everyone else, but suddenly everything is so final and it's not what I'm used to."
Anne, tried to collect her thoughts and say something comforting, but it was extremely difficult to open her secret innermost thoughts, which were only half-formed, about such big things, especially to Ruby, whose philosophy of life had been completely opposite to Anne's for years. But looking into Ruby's eyes, Anne saw a shadow in them, and she encouraged her mind and spoke from her heart, bright, encouraging words.
Ruby leaned on Anne's shoulder, as silent tears and bitter shivers shook Ruby's shoulders, like summer rain, and Anne quietly stroked Ruby's hair, as finally Ruby's tears ran out. She said quietly, "Anne, I'm so happy that you gave your time for me this summer. I've wanted to talk to you about this before but it's been hard to muster up the courage to do so."
The dew rose, and the moonlight flickered on the surface of the pond, as slowly Anne rose from her seat, and Ruby said, quietly, "I'm not afraid anymore, your words helped. But will you visit soon, again?"
Anne, nodded and said " Ruby, dear, I will. Good night."
The whole of Avonlea turned out for Ruby's funeral, and it was talked about for so long that over the years it took on the proportions of a legend.
And years later in Ingelside, whenever she saw Irene Howard walking the streets of Upper Glen, Anne looked at Gilbert, and they shared a sad smile, for sometimes Irene resembled Ruby very much, as she was just as shallow, but without the sweetness of Ruby's personality. And Gilbert tasting the first cherries of the summer, he handed a handful of them to Anne, and the taste of the cherry, too, in its own way, reminded of Ruby.