A large wreath of ivy and evergreen, which also had ponsietta, hung from the crystal chandeliers, the red silk ribbons tied to it fluttered in a gentle draft, as Mrs. Garnder raised her lorngette and said a little pointedly, " Dorothy mind your manners, don't sit on the carpet. Aline dear, see to it that there are plenty of candied almonds in the bowls. Do you know where your brother is gone, for the Stuarts are coming soon. I expect your brother will be there to receive them?"

Dorothy walked out of the room with light, almost inaudible steps. There was a great commotion around her, in the Gardner townhouse, it was New Year's Eve.

The library was quiet, Dorothy crept up next to Royal as she whispered, "Mamma's looking for you." Roy looked up from the small photograph he had been holding. It was likeness of Miss Shirley. Critically Dorothy looked at it and said quietly, "Strange, I think that picture doesn't quite do her justice. She is more, vivid, lively in person, isn't she?"

Royal, brushed a non-existent speck of dust from the photograf frame with his finger as he replied, "Very perceptive of you Do-Do."

Dorothy grinned mischievously as she continued, "Tell me what you got her for Christmas, before our cousins and the Stuarts arrive and Christine monopolizes your time as usual. How is Miss Shirley spending the New Year, do you know? Wouldn't it be fun if she could be here with us next year?"

Royal ruffled Dorothy's sleek braids, as he said with a gentle laugh in his voice, "A gentleman never reveals what presents he gets to a lady, as you should know it by heart by know. But I humbly hope Miss Shirley liked it. She is in Prince Edward Island, in a village called Avonlea, and it may be that, like us here, she may also dance, tonight. You're right, I'll do my best to make her happy here if."

Below, a crowd of people, happily talking, swarmed in front of the house.

Out of breath, from the waltzes, Aline leaned back in the chair and said lightly, "Brother of mine, brooding is not polite. Ask one of our cousins to dance." Wearily, Royal looked around the large room. Uncle Robert was talking in a low voice with Mamma.

Christine danced gracefully, with her cavalier, in spite of the fact that the youth trampled on her skirt with every other step. Dorothy was nowhere to be seen, she had already been ordered upstairs hours ago.

And then Roy heard an amused voice beside him, "Isn't this semi-annual family tradition incredibly boring? Do you want to go on an adventure, Roy?" Smiling, Roy met his cousin's gaze, as usual, Faidra Claire, who was usually called by her middle name, was dressed modestly but sensuously, in blue-green taffeta.

Roy extended his gloved hand to his cousin and replied, "Isn't a waltz an adventure, or do you perhaps want something more from life?" Claire made a light but deep curtsy, as is customary, as the waltz notes throbbed, as the cousins danced, in silence, after the set had ended, Claire wiped her face with a lace-trimmed handkerchief, as she remarked, "In answer to your question, the latter, absolutely. What do you think, how long does it take for the tensions to surface, fifteen minutes or twenty?"

A crash was heard from the edge of the dance floor, a tipsy guest had knocked over a palm tree and a glass tray. The shards of champagne glasses sparkled like snowflakes on a reddish parquet.

Claire's face was shadowy as she remarked, "I was wrong, with my timing."

At that moment there was a loud conversation from the back room. Roy noticed that a red-faced Uncle Samuel marched up to Uncle Robert and said, almost roaring, "Late brother Ned, would not have accepted, your way of leading."

Roy smiled bitterly as he replied, "Not so. Everything is as usual here. Extravagance, too much food and drink, broken glasses, and old grudges."

Christine sailed to them, she was dressed in seasonal garnet red tone, there were generous if old fashioned empire line, in her gown, with half-sleeves. Amusement flashed in her eyes, as she remarked, "I think my toes are almost bruised, it is clear that not all gentlemen can master the rules of the waltz, simple as the steps are. But my dear, Roy, will you introduce us?"

Afterwards, sitting with Aline on the too-soft chairs and waiting for the breakfast brunch to begin, Christine remarked, "I met one of your cousins. She was pleasant, with strange alluring kind of charm. Why have you never told me that you have such lovely relatives."

Drowsily Aline mumbled, " For the simple reason that we don't see them often, there is bad blood. These kind of occasions are the exception, and family councils of course. And I imagine you have enough court around you in Redmond, Claire Hallet for one. Oh how beautiful pendant you have, was it a Christmas present?"

With her gloved fingertip, Christine touched the teardrop-shaped amethyst swinging on a thin gold chain. Stretching, Christine handed Aline a glass of fresh juice as she lightly remarked, "It's extremely surprising how some people can surprise a girl so willingly." Aline laughed as she pointed out, "Amethysts don't really seem to be lovely Andrew's style, or is he saving diamonds for marriage?"

Dorothy hop-skipped over to them as she whispered audibly, "I overheard Mamma and Royal arguing about Miss Shirley, how exciting!"

Aline glanced censoriously at her sister as she pointedly pointed out, "Dorothy, don't spread rumours, that's not ladylike."

Christine broke a piece of toast in half and said lightly,"Don't worry Aline. If the captivating Miss Shirley gets here, I can almost guarantee that the battle will be won by then."

Dorothy frowned, as she inquired, "What battle?"

Aline carelessly handed the marmalade to Dorothy as she replied, "Nevermind, pet."

A mulish look came into Dorothy's eyes as she remarked, "Aline, you don't do anything to make things difficult, do you? I love Miss Shirley. She deserves all the good in the world. Roy isn't the best, because if he was, we'd have unlimited access to imported Swiss chocolate. If everyone have to get married, so why can't she marry our brother?"

Aline glanced at Christine over Dorothy's head, as she murmured, "Dearheart, never change."

New Year's Day in Avonlea dawned bright, but a little foggy. Busily, Mrs. Blythe laid a steaming breakfast on the Ildewind Farm breakfast table and very soon both John and Gilbert were tucking in. The aromatic scent of coffee and tea wafted over, and it mingled with the purring of cats, as Mrs. Blythe inquired, "Gil, how was the dance yesterday?"

Gilbert's curls were slightly frizzy, as they often were in the mornings. Thoughtfully he replied, "The Pye girls were dancing and so were most of the Andrews family. Diana and Fred sat together most of the evening and I was with them for a while."

John Blythe, tapping his pipe on the corner of the table, pointedly, as his wife continued purposefully, "What about Marilla Cuthbert or Rachel Lynde, the Irvings were hardly there, or the Dixes from Upper Grafton?"

Gilbert blew on his hot tea as he answered Ma's question, "No, you're right. There were most of the former A.V.I.S. Society members, except for Jane, who is still in the West."

" Strange that you didn't wear the gold cufflinks you wore at Fred's wedding. I would have thought that an opportunity like this would have been perfect for them? They were really high quality work." Mrs Blythe remarked with a mother's quick intuition.

A slight smile appeared in Gilbert's eyes as he resolutely emptied his teacup. After which he said patiently, "Ma, those cufflinks were a surprise birthday present, from an acquaintance of an acquaintance, nothing more. And they came in handy for Fred's wedding, but I have to say that I like them."

Gilbert got up from the table, as he did so, he pressed a light kiss on his mother's cheek, as he remarked, "It's getting light. I'm going for a walk, or perhaps a ski-trip, as the snow is luring, calling for me."

John Blythe glanced at his wife and said gravely, "Now you see, there's nothing to worry about."

Mrs. Blythe folded the corner of her apron nervously as she murmured, "But what about those rumors about some dark-haired, tall girl in Redmond walking out with our son? As a mother, shouldn't I be worried?"

John pulled his wife close and whispered gruffly, "Dearest, Gilbert isn't thinking about romance, he's thinking about his studies, but if it's romance you want, you'll soon have my full attention."

With purposeful steps, Gilbert walked to the shed in the crunching snow, and chose his skis. In the shed, everything was in perfect order, and a nostalgic smile came to Gilbert's lips when he noticed a long fishing rod in a corner. For he and Fred had taken turns fishing, with that one, until John had taught Fred to choose his own rod. With a few quick strokes, he bounded through the light powder snow, towards the secret places of Avonlea.

The surrounding nature was completely silent, there was only the quiet noise of the skis, as miles flashed by, as Gilbert skied, and as he skied, he sank again into the whirlwind of memories of yesterday's Hogmanay dances, held in Pye's sumptuous house, exceptionally, for the winter had been so severe that Avonlea town hall could not be opened.

Charlie Sloane had remarked out loud in his characteristic style, "There's nothing like home, even if this punch is too sweet. If it were made according to Sloane's recipe, the texture would be different. I'll have to start preparing for the exams soon. I'm going to prove my skills to Professor Nemo. Priscilla Grant and the lovely Phil Gordon, they are both excellent girls in their own right, and they are excellent in Greek, to top it all off. Doesn't Anne look good in this light?"

Involuntarily, Gilbert nodded and glanced across the large room where Diana and Anne were sitting, had been sitting for most of the evening. Anne had smilingly refused most of the dances. Once Gilbert had heard that clear voice say, "I just want to enjoy myself at home, and the company of my dear bosomfriend, Diana. Josie, the arrangements are splendid tonight, I might even say they beat Redmond's in places."

Anne had been dressed in a green. Richly colored emerald tinted dress, and she had been in her most, sparkling, as she had sat next to Diana, and the girls' light laughter had rang out brightly. Gilbert had looked intently with carefully curated intervals in Anne's direction, but there was no delicate little enamel heart resting on her neck, on a thin chain that Gilbert had carefully selected from among several pieces of jewelry, instead a dark green velvet ribbon went around her white neck. Gilbert had drained his glass and walked over to Anne, with a smooth bow, just as the softly touching strains of Will Ye Go Lassie Go glowed through the room. Anne's eyes shone starry in the candlelight, as she said, with a fond tone, "Gilbert, you remember how I like this song, I wasn't thinking of dancing today, but I can't resist this song, for the poet Robert Tannahill's poetry here is so romantic, though it's not Robert Burns."

Diana hummed impishly.

And we'll all go together

To pull wild mountain thyme

All around the bloomin' Heather

Will ye go Lassie Go?

I will build my love a bower

By yon cool crystal fountain

And round it I will pile

All the wild flowers o' the mountain

Will ye go Lassie Go?

Gilbert had scarcely dared to breathe as Anne was light, but so present in his arms, as the varying rhythms of the dance carried them forward in formation, among the other couples, round, round, and forward, and across, with quickening pace, till at last the mournful ballad ended in lingering notes, and laughing, Anne brushed her tousled curls from her face.

Violins throbbed, as the strains of Auld Lang Syne, called everyone into formation. Anne laughingly took hold of Diana's hand, and Gilbert felt Fred grab his hand from the other side, as the music carried them onwards.

Wiping the sweat from his brow, Gilbert stopped skiing, and leaned on his poles, and painfully remembered how Diana had asked Anne, "What a beautiful velvet ribbon, it suits you, brilliantly." Anne had replied with a slight blush rising to her cheeks, "It was a Christmas present, with a letter and flowers, something Ruby would have been proud of, I think. Do you remember when she read to us, her worn copy of The Etiquette of Courtship and Matrimony." Diana's eyes had twinkled as she had replied, "Oh, those were the Story Club Days. What a merry time we had, all thanks to your imagination, Anne." Anne´s laughter had been like moonlight on snow, but somehow warmer. With effort Gilbert continued his skiing journey towards Ildlewind. He had work to do. Lots of it.

A few hours later, Mrs. Blythe, peeping in through the door of Gilbert's room, found her dear child intensely reading some thick book, and with one hand he was writing observations in a worn note-book. Thick stacks of books and papers were in neat piles around Gilbert's room, and near the mirror was a large piece of paper with the following words written in upright handwriting: Cooper Prize revision timetable, each column containing about seven different subjects. Mrs. Blythe noticed that there was always a black star on the schedule at certain intervals, it said lunch meeting or a walk with CAS.

Anne stood at Matthew's grave, watching how the rays of the setting sun glowed in the snow crystals.

Sighing quietly, Anne said, "Dear Matthew, I somehow feel like a crossroads looms before me. If only you were here, I'd like to know what you would think of a person who is surprisingly important to me. Public opinion expects me to marry him, at least at Redmond, if he continue his frevent courting of me, until May, or beyond, but of course I cannot answer till the question is asked, if it be asked. And yet, I can tell you, that when I received the Christmas present from Gilbert on Christmas morning, my heart throbbed, almost painfully, which it didn't when I opened Royal's gift. Gilbert is such a chum and a bright future is predicted for him. It's funny that by his side now stands a woman who is like the fulfillment of my childhood dreams, outwardly at least, the few conversations I've had with her have been, not, quite, quite. But I guess it's pointless to imagine that kindred spirits can always be found. I have been quite spoiled in that respect. Blessed Matthew, I know you're looking after me, I feel it, but sometimes I want to talk to you properly."

Soft footsteps were heard, and with a start Anne turned to see the upright figure of Gilbert a few steps away. Gilbert carefully laid a beautiful little wreath at the foot of one of the tombstones buried in the snow, and courteously he raised his hat, to Anne.

Anne exclaimed, frantically, "Gil, thank you for your Christmas present. When, before the term starts, come over to Pattys Place one Friday, we'll all miss your company there."

Gilbert nodded, and swung his neckerchief, the thick snow creaked as he grabbed his skis from the bank, and soon his figure had disappeared into the bluish gloom.

Curious, Anne walked over to the wreath, and with difficulty she could make out what was written on the tombstone. Beloved Sorcha Blythe 1860-1861. Our lovely lass, always in our memory.

Her eyes full of tears, Anne crept home to Green Gables, where the conversations and arguments of Rachel Lynde and Marilla, and the commotion of the twins, wrapped her in their embrace.

Anne eagerly read Dumas' Count of Monte Cristo to Davy, in the glow of the fireplace, in the scent of Christmas treats. Shyly, Dora inquired, "Mrs Lynde, when Easter comes, can I perhaps help in the kitchen?"

Rachel Lynde, glanced in Marilla's direction, but Marilla's expression was so soft, as it sometimes was only in the dusky moments of the evening, as it now was, as Anne's face was lighted by the playful dance, of variable flames, so Rachel answered, "Perhaps, perhaps, very well, but that celebration is while away, dear Dora."

On the streets of Kingsport, co-eds slowly returned to the intense rhythm of studies as the new term rolled around. Claire Hallet, honeyedly remarked, to Phil Gordon, "I happen to hear that Pattys Place sometimes has gentlemen guests, how modern. Is it perhaps private tutoring, or something else?"

Phil, smiling brightly, replied in her familiar way."Honey, not at all. A few old acquaintances just dropped by, and had a chat, nothing more. It was like Professor Woodleigh's seminars, lots of eager souls, under one roof, you know."

Claire Hallet smiled sweetly as she replied, "Indeed. But if I may give you a bit of advice, you could pass on fashion tips to Anne Shirley, she can write with such sparkling brilliance, but the clothes, on the other hand, are often not up to Bluenose standard."

Carefully hidden temper flashed, in Phils eyes, as she said still in courteously mild manner, "Anne deserves to be here, a thousand times over, and no one, not you, or anyone else, can ruin it from her. There's nothing wrong with her clothes."

Claire Hallet, laughed lightly as she remarked, "Yes, not now that fashion has fortunately changed in a more modest direction. Do give her my most ardent love, will you Philippa dearest!"

That evening at Pattys Place, Phil grumbled to Priscilla and Stella, "Miss Hallet is a poisonous snake with the face of an angel. Where is Queen Anne?"

Stella, glanced at her lecture notes, and said, "Oh, Roy took her somewhere to a painting exhibition again, I guess they'll be back soon."

At that moment, a starry-eyed Anne entered the living room, and in a curious teasing manner, Phil inquired "Well?"

Anne, sat down in an armchair, and exclaimed, "I have spent the last hour or two in paradise, for I saw, lived, and experienced Arthuriana paintings and engravings. Elaine was delightful, as were the others. It was extremely difficult not to quote Tennyson, but somehow I managed there."

Priscilla glanced at Anne and said "Well one could say that Roy played his cards right then."

Aunt Jimise, clicked her kinittng needles, and said in a half-playful tone, "Will you stop teasing that lovely, polite lad. His intentions seem totally honorable."

Stella smiled mischievously at her Aunt, as she replied, "We would, but Royal is so serious, even though he has a laugh somewhere, in him I´m sure of it, right Anne?"

Startled slightly, Anne said, "Yes, you're right, Rose-Red."

Whispers were circulating in Redmond's libraries, that one of the Cooper prize chasers might have given up, for health reasons, but there was no absolute certainty.

The names in the rumor mills varied, but one name was on everyone's lips, Gilbert Blythe, who had achieved the highest marks for years in the January exams.

Almost every time as he walked across the campus, several passers-by stopped to look at Mr Blythe's determined, energetic gait, and at his side walked a slim, dark-haired

woman who often seemed to say something funny, as the warm baritone's laughter rang out, as golden daffodils bloomed on the wide lawns of the campus area, as shy March sunlight playfully lingered, blooming promise of spring and eternal verdant reneval.