After the first few days without fever, Gilbert sat in a soft armchair in the empty living room of Ildewind Farm. The purring of cats could be heard soothingly nearby, the brilliant glow of July beckoned behind the windows, the sky was deep blue, and a few soft puffy clouds floated across the sky.

Gilbert, carefully cut open Phil's letter, which he had deposited in the pocket of his dressing-gown.

The sheets of the letter opened softly, Phil's curlicued cursive neat on the cream-colored paper, just like math diagrams in previous years when Phil cracked open a problem.

Gilbert blinked, and with trembling hands he placed Phil's letter in his lap, hardly believing what it said. A wave of deep happiness, almost too painful, washed over him. Closing his eyes, he breathed heavily and read the missive again, just in case the information changed, but it didn't.

Patterson St.

Kingsport.

Dearest Gil! A few days ago we returned from the "lands of Evangeline," back here and I'm slowly getting used to being called Mrs Jonas Blake. Jo sends his love, to you. But the main reason for this letter is not my marital bliss, but concern for you, and for someone else whom you know well. Here in Kingsport, gossip has been spreading at a furious pace, and it occurred to me that one of them touches your future happiness. Namely, and I can say this with the authority of a friend, Anne is free, as she and Roy did not suit each other. So I plead you, pluck your vaulted Blythe courage, fluff your divine curls and take heart to try again.

With love,

Phil

Ps. You both deserve to be equally happy, and your happiness is only with each other, or so I think. Otherwise certain things would have fallen in place.

Slightly alarmed, Mrs. Blythe placed a basket of folded John's shirts on the floor and hurried over to Gilbert's chair, remarking, "Is the fever rising, you look a little strange, do you have a stomach ache?"

Faintly Gilbert folded the letter away and tried to smile with trembling lips as he said, "Everything is better than it has been for a long time, Ma, don't fret." Carefully Mrs. Blythe brushed the curls from Gilbert's forehead, and said to herself that her dear child looked like the dream of his heart had come true, or at least close to it. His eyes twinkled, in muted way, small over powering glint of happiness.

Days followed each other and slowly, but surprisingly quickly, Gilbert recovered and regained his former vigor. One morning, Dr. Giddens declared, "You can start moving outside your home, nothing too strenuous, at first."

Avonlea was abuzz because Alice Penhallow's wedding was about to take place, and it was going to be an impressive one. Although Mrs. Harmon Andrews declared to everyone, "that her beloved Jane's wedding had crowned this summer season. The wedding trip in Europe was quite different from the little jaunty trips to other parts of Canada."

Gilbert strode steadily to the corner of the Green Gables and found Anne sitting on the porch with some light green dress she was busily sewing on her lap. The golden light of the afternoon shimmered in Anne's hair, making it shine reddish.

At his jovial greeting, Anne raised her expressive eyes to Gilbert's face, and she said cheerfully, but with a touch of sorrow, in her voice, " A ramble would be delightful, and especially with you, Gilbert, but unfortunately I cannot, for I am in Alice Penhallow's wedding party, this evening, and this dress still needs to be fixed a bit, and then it's time to go."

Undeterred, Gilbert leaned against the verdant porch post as he said, "Tomorrow afternoon then, we could make our way to Hester Grays garden?"

Anne nodded, and spread out the folds of the hazy light green dress, her needle glimmered. Gilbert swallowed, because the image of Anne in that dress was extremely lovely, her daffodil-like slenderness, delicate grace and star-flowers adorning those ruddy-curls.

Anne could clearly feel Gilbert's fixed gaze, which suddenly seemed too neutral. And Gilbert's way was friendly, courteous as was his usual way. With a little tang of despair in her heart, Anne watched as Gilbert disappeared around a bend in the road, a tall slender, broad-shouldered figure.

As the days passed, Anne had noticed that her iron-clad certainty of that terrible storm-night had passed. Not about her own feelings, for she knew she loved Gilbert as surely as the sunrise would come. But perhaps, after all, Gilbert's feelings were in Christine's possession, for only two days before Josie Pye had said audibly that "I chanced to see while doing my business at the post office, that Mrs. Blythe happened to be carrying several letters with foreign stamps, and extremely beautiful handwriting, in her basket, surely they were for Gilbert, the girls of Avonlea have never been enough for him. Anne, isn't Gilbert courting some devastatingly good-looking girl, Charlie Sloane said so and Mrs. Harmon Andrews confirmed it."

Anne had raised her chin and had said in her queenly style, which was not entirely efficent armour against Josie's Pye-like insuations. "I can say that the girl you refer to is attractive, but those aspirations against Gilbert´s good name and nature are horrendous Josie. Desist please."

At Alice Penhallow's wedding, Anne joyfully took part in the evening's program, but amid that fierce merrymaking, and solemn love-vows, twined with Bloom's variety of fresh flower petals, that decorated old Avonlea´s church, Anne confessed to herself that her thoughts were constantly circling and the beginning and end point of that ring was in Gilbert. Every dark-eyed youth in the crowd seemed to be him, though no one else had a similar presence, nor such shoulders as his, despite his recent brush of typhoid.

And as elaborate wedding supper was spread-out, and it was time for toasts and dances, Anne danced and laughed brightly amid other maids of Alice´s wedding party. Several matrons of Avonlea glanced meaningfully at each other, and one of them remarked, with a sinff. "That Shirley lass seems quite beautiful today, even if she is redhead, but collage education does not guarantee a man. She too hunts for a man, mark my words."

In the peace of his own room, Gilbert purposefully glanced at the handful of letters he had received from Christine and a few from Andrew as well, all describing the joys and enchantment of New Orleans, and future plans to build a house, perhaps in the Winnipeg area.

Glancing out of his window, a pale peach sunset was blushing the horizon. It promised beautiful weather for tomorrow. And with the hopes beating in his heart and the notebook open in front of him with precise strokes, Gilbert wrote open the dreams of his heart. And suddenly he froze and with one violent gesture tore out the pages and burned them. It would not do to tempt fate.

The path to Hester Gray's garden was a mysterious play of light and shadow, full of the wonder of fragrant nature, and companionable silence. Gilbert glanced carefully at Anne, she seemed like she had fallen out of from a star, as she was walking with gay steps, in her dark green dress, drinking natures wonder all around her, as was her usual joyful way. Hester Gray's garden was a blooming riot of goldenrods and a delicate mat of bluish asters. There was a salty tang of sea, in the air, as they sat down on an old gray bench.

Anne, mesmerized by the radiantly beautiful sight, said dreamily, "I believe the land where dreams happen may be as close as that hazy little blue valley over there."

Gilbert glanced warmly, softly at Anne's clear profile, as he asked lightly, softly, cautiously, "Do you happen to have unfulfilled dreams?"

Anne was startled, and felt a tremor in her soul, hearing that certain tone in Gilbert's soft baritone. But to cover it, she answered philosophically, "Don't we all. If we got everything at once, life would be boring, dreams grow. Oh, how delicious is the smell of asters and ferns, like the best perfume!"

Gilbert said in a low voice, "I've had a dream that I've dreamed of for years, despite all odds. It's small and modest, but it is mine. Home, the footsteps of friends, and you, with me there. A little over two years ago, I asked you a question, if I ask again, will you give me a different answer?"

Anne pressed her cold hands together. Happiness seemed to wash over her like waves. Trembling, Anne looked up into Gilbert's eyes, and love shone from her eyes, wordless and true.

The birds sang softly some hours later, as they walked round and round in that old, green garden, and talked, talked. Anne turned, not releasing her grip on Gilbert's arm as she remarked a little reproachfully, "I thought you were in love with Christine Stuart." Hearing those words uttered in a slightly jealous tone, Gilbert burst into boyish laughter. And when his laughter had subsided, he pressed a soft kiss to Anne's hair and explained, "When you had turned down my suite, I was just concentrating on my studies until one of my fellow students asked for a favor. That favor was Christine, she is one of the nicest girls and she was really friend, to me, as we palled around in Redmond. She is engaged to Andrew, who is a perfect chum to me too. I've never loved anyone but you Anne. When Gardner arrived on the scene I figured I had no chance. And I thought so until I got a letter from Phil, that I read when I had recovered sufficently with my ordeal. "

Anne looked at Gilbert in dismay, and in a strangled voice she said, "You mean, you can't mean, Andrew Dawson, perhaps?" Stunned, Gilbert nodded. And carefully, he remarked, "What's wrong Anne?"

Anne rubbed her temples and said quietly, "Andrew Dawson, I happened to have a conversation with him, and that conversation was important because it partly helped me make a decision."

On guard, Gilbert clenched his other hand into a fist, as Anne murmured, "I carried on with Roy, too long, I was fond of him, but his circles are not my natural habitat, as I realized this, I broke it off with him."

A stifled sigh escaped Gilbert's throat as Anne continued "I've been such a little fool. How could you have loved me when I've wasted so much time. I thought I'd die myself when you were so ill. Now here we are despite the from years of misunderstandings, we are together now, this is the birthday of our shared happiness."

Gilbert smiled, and love glowed from his dark eyes, as the shadows deepened and the horizon turned purple, as he whispered, "Our betrothal will be long, and I cannot promise you riches, or fame, but my heart is yours now and forever."

Anne raised her starry shining eyes and happily exclaimed, "When you are by my side, I want to dream, wait, and do good honest molding teaching work, perhaps in Summerside. I know that you and our love will be the highest prize of all."

In the darkness of the deepening evening, Anne and Gilbert walked calmly towards Green Gables. Marilla looked up from the jam pot when the door slammed. She looked at Anne's face and wordlessly embraced her, frevently, as she noted Anne´s and Gilbert´s entwined fingers.

In the matter of days the news of the Blythe-Shirley engagement went from house to house, and even beyond Avonlea, by rapturous letters. Christine had penned a letter to Gilbert

Dear Gil,

Your pursuit of happiness and evasive Miss Shirley has been a journey, but now you can say you achieved your goals, both of them.

Well done!

I believe that your life will be happy, of full of mirth, no longer evasive kind, but full of silvery sparkle.

Tell me what you want as a wedding present when the time comes?

If you don't tell me I will donate sheet music, and they will presumably be useless, because even though future Mrs. Blythe is very accomplished she has never mastered any instrument if my sources are correct?

With all my love

CAS

Anne looked up, as Gilbert's soft chuckle echoed. Mrs Blythe, nodded her approval, at the red haired girl's loving gaze on her child, as Anne inquired, "What's so amusing about that letter?"

Gilbert, carelessly folded the bluish envelope into his pocket and declared, "Anne, Anne, I'll take you as you are, shall we go to have a moonlight ramble?"

Anne nodded, and softly whispered a few sentences into Gilbert's ear.

The moonlight sparkled on Matthew Cuthbert's grave, as Anne, leaning into Gilbert´s embrace, directed her words in whisper as much to the moonlight as to Matthew, "I've found my soulmate, in Gilbert, but of course you know it. You may even have guessed it. Rachel Lynde is pleased, the twins too, and also dear Marilla in her quieter way. Soon the road will turn again, but I promise that I will be happy as I while away days, counting them like pearls on a sparkling string." Softly Gilbert took Anne's hand in his, and they walked, rambled over to that place where once years ago Elaine of Astolat had been rescued, there their lips met, in most chaste and joyful of kisses.

A/N: Thank you to everyone who has read or followed this little story of mine. The journey has been amazing and rewarding, I hope it has been the same for you too.