One winter afternoon, Cornelia Bryant met Captain Jim on the road leading to the Four Winds, near the Moore house and the crossroads of the House of Dreams. The snow sparkled bright, like diamonds, as the honey-tinted light reflected off the branches of the snowy fir trees.
Cornelia glanced at Captain Jim and inquired briefly, "Were you with Dick Moore?"
Captain Jim nodded and remarked good-naturedly, "Aye, I was. Leslie, that dear lass went to have a snow ramble with Mistress Blythe."
Astutely, Cornelia remarked, "Since Anne and Dr. Blythe moved here, Leslie has come out of her shell, or as much as she can. The company of a neighbor about the same age does Leslie good, and if she didn't like Anne Blythe, she would show it, in no uncertain ways. Leslie is very straight in her own way, although she does have queer, broording, spells now and again."
Captain Jim, shaded his eyes with his mittened hand and looked at the snowy landscape thoughtfully as he calmly reflected, a little teasingly, " True. If you had seen her at New Year's, I almost didn't recognize Leslie, she was like a young, fresh and charming girl, with a woman's mature dignity twined in, an arresting combination, and how she danced, and had fun, as if she should have done so years ago."
Cornelia Bryant sniffed, and pointedly pointed out, "Men always manage to ruin woman's life. I've told you a thousand times that if only you had left Dick Moore where you found him, but no. You had your convictions."
Silence fell between the two old friends and sparring partners, but it wasn't an oppressive silence. Captain Jim, smiled thoughtfully as he replied, "Cornelia, I couldn't act against my conscience, and neither can Leslie. She has high principles."
Children's bright and innocent laughter rang through the air, as the snow sled slid tightly on the sea ice, like a ship of dreams.
The snow crunched under their feet as Leslie and Anne walked, rambled. Anne looked thoughtfully at Leslie's upright nature as she strode along the hard-trodden path full of unconscious sweetness.
Their shadows blended together.
For weeks, Anne had felt uneasy in Leslie's company, because constantly, subconsciously, she had waited because she was sure that at some point, that strange, strange, unspeakable, something that marred her friendship with Leslie would bloom. The internal strain was taking a severe toll on her. And in spite of Captain Jim's assurances that she had won Leslie's love and affection, a thorn of doubt had remained in Anne's soul, like a thorn, for the memory of their first meeting was exceedingly strong, and that hostile, dark look, with mingled indifference and a flash of bitter anger, had been an unforgettable one that had flashed from Leslie's gaze, in that one instance.
A little out of breath, and having made a sudden, impulsive decision, Anne called out, "Leslie dearest, I have something to tell you, I'm so looking forward to spring, as I'm in the family way as they say. Share my joy, my friend!"
Leslie stopped in the middle of the snowy road.
Anne saw how Leslie's face stilled, as satue might. And then, she glanced at Anne once. That dark blue gaze was full of bitterness, darkly cutting.
Anne trembled, as Leslie said in a colorless voice, in choked tremor in her voice, "Oh, you'll get that too, happy wife, that you are!"
Those words, their hostility, were like a sudden, violent blow that hurt Anne deep to her soul.
Suddenly, wordless, Leslie had turned and disappeared, across the snowy paths, so fast that Anne could not follow.
A few evenings later, when Leslie arrived to visit, in her usual evening hour at House of Dreams, Anne was glad, but bit apprehensive. Gilbert was gone again, there was an urgent call to Over Harbour.
That visit was golden, as Leslie was charming, winsome, and Anne almost without realizing it let Leslie's personality enchant her again, as Leslie sat before the fireplace and laughed merrily, that bubbling delicious laugh. The glow of the fire crowned her profile, and the smell of toffees combined with the smell of roasted winter apples, were match made in heaven.
Leslie remarked gently, impishly without her usual coolness, "Anne, Anne, do you know these verses?"
Anne leaned eagerly forward, as Swinburne's fateful verses Before Parting throbbed in the cozy drawing-room, and hearing them, Anne felt a delicious thrill in her soul, and it grew, as Leslie looked at her gravely, smiling slightly.
The attic of the Moore house was a dark place.
Full of old travel trunks, and withered memories that were too painful.
Leslie gently caressed Kenneth's things with her fingertips. The boards creaked under her steps as Leslie stooped to find a strip of Valeciennes lace.
Many evenings Leslie sewed, with the utmost precision, a light, hazy, beautiful baby dress, on which Leslie drew on all the skill Mama Rose had given her, of doing embroidery and whitework, and in every stitch and material she had scrounged and bought that wasn't in the attic Leslie had embroidered her wordless love, towards Anne.