Anyone walking past the house around half past nine the next morning would have seen Anne skipping down the steps and into a waiting carriage. She gave the driver the address and insisted when he queried it. Shrugging his shoulders he flicked the reins and the horses started forward. Anne sat back in the carriage with a smile on her face, pleased that at last she was determining her path.

Her resolve wavered when she saw the fine houses in their neighbourhood give way to tiny shacks, though she marvelled at how short the journey had been. Not much distance separated the rich from the poor. The smell of boiling cabbage greeted her when at last the carriage stopped outside a dilapidated church. Anne's stomach roiled in remembrance of the orphanage, for she had eaten many a bowl of similarly prepared vegetables; while she had been happy enough to do so then, it was not a particularly pleasant dish, nor memory. Giving thanks to God for Marilla and her wonderful cooking Anne paused on the steps but deigned to look back at the driver lest her courage fail.

Taking a deep breath, she knocked on the manse door and waited with bated breath. The figure that opened it was dressed in an unfashionable pinafore covered with a grubby apron. Nancy would never be caught dead in such a drab outfit, but this was no maid. "Anne, honey. Why we'd almost given up on you!" Phil said embracing her in a warm hug.

Sitting in the kitchen with a cup of weak tea Anne spilled out her sorry tale watching Phil's face get increasingly angry. "It's not right, that's what," she said in unknowing mimicry of Anne's old neighbour, Mrs Lynde. Anne smiled wanly, "no. That's why I threw her out."

"You didn't!" Phil's eyes lit up in admiration. "As I recall Mrs Gardner was an old battleaxe. That takes gumption, Anne. I am proud of you."

"Don't be, I wasn't very polite about it."

"Just the sort of thing she needs, if you ask me. People like her are too used to getting their own way. What did Roy say about it?"

"Well, she's his mother. He, um," she fiddled with her teacup. "He tried to defend her, but I, um I was adamant. We didn't argue much because well, you know I hate it. He can be such a dear and I don't want to quarrel."

"But you did speak, what did you say?"

"I reminded him that she'd isolated me. I told him that I wasn't living, I was just existing. But he, ah um, he…" she trailed off, her cheeks blushing in remembrance of her night.

Phil watched the interplay of emotions cross her friend's face having some inkling of how their night had gone. "Yes, well. It's still not good enough," she said, uncrossing her legs. Such passion was common for her and Jonas, but from Anne's expression she wondered how it was for her. There was a pause then as both girls contemplated the unsaid. Phil broke the silence. "Now honey, don't think I don't want to spend all day drinking you in, but I."

"Oh, my goodness, I just barged in here, didn't I. I was so riled up with my own woes that I forgot that you must be busy. I just, I."

"No, no, don't be silly. It's just Jonas was expecting me. I'll just get someone to send him word. He won't mind a bit, but he might worry. Mind you sometimes he gets so involved he forgets about me altogether."

"No, no I shouldn't keep you."

"We've only just caught up; I don't want to let you out of my sight. I know," Phil had a sudden brainwave, "you could accompany me. Unless" she paused. "You have plans."

Anne shook her head; beyond finding Phil, Anne had no idea what to do with her day. "That sounds like a splendid idea."

They chatted further on the way, as they walked past mean hovels arm in arm. Phil said, "and did you ever hear back from Gilbert?"

"Er, no. I mean I feel a bit odd about him, I guess. He was always such a … dear chum."

"He's been unwell you know."

Anne came to a halt nearly causing Phil to lose her balance. "Unwell?"

"I wondered if you knew. Yes, typhoid or so I heard. His mother's been nursing him in Avonlea; it was a bit touch and go there for a while, but I believe he's on the mend."

"Oh, poor Gil," Anne looked heartbroken, more so than a happily married woman had a right to be Phil thought. "I must write his mother when I get home."

"That will have to wait, for here we are," Phil announced.

The stench was even stronger than at the manse and it mingled with other less savoury aromas; those of unwashed bodies, stale urine, amongst others. Gulping for it had been a long time since Anne had smelt such a vile concoction, they made their way inside picking carefully between the crowd. Jonas was easily identifiable in the melee and Anne followed Phil as they crept towards him. "Anne!" Jonas turned to her holding his arms out. "Phil's been so worried about you."

Anne laughed to be back in his embrace, "I've been fine, just busy is all. Now what can we do to help?"

Time passed quickly. There wasn't much Anne or Phil could do, but they listened to each tale of woe and handed out tea, food or blankets as the need arose. Unbeknownst to each woman, merely being listened to helped more than they could know; these were people used to being ignored; having a well-to-do woman listen to them was more empowering than anyone there gave credence. Phil marvelled at how easily Anne slipped into helping mode. It had taken her quite some time to do the same.

When the crimson sun slewed through the dusty windows Anne realised how late it had gotten, "I must go," she told Phil. "It's been absolutely wonderful catching up. I won't leave it so long next time. Tell the others, if you talk, that I'll be in touch."

"I sure will honey. Now you'll need a carriage. We'll hail one for you."

"There's no need. I'll be fine."

"No, I insist, this isn't your neighbourhood, I'd hate for anything to happen." Phil turned to a nearby boy and told him to find Anne a cab.

"Begging your pardon, Sir." Nancy's voice was soft and subservient. She had packed his mother's trunk so had some idea what had happened the previous day. Since it had been she that had given Anne access to the older woman's bedroom, Nancy felt slightly guilty, but what choice did she have?

"Yes?"

"I have a note here for you. It's just been delivered."

Roy sighed. He had a fair idea of its contents and upon reading it, was not surprised to find it contained a summons from his mother requesting his attendance at a lunch she was holding at his sister Aline's place.

Feeling rather like a rat caught in a trap, Roy dressed carefully. Anne had already left for the day, giving him few details as to her destination.

"Roy!" Mrs Gardner greeted her son glancing around his back to see if Anne had joined him. "You came on your own?"

"Anne went out, I'm not sure where?" Frowning Mrs Gardner stood aside to let him in. Roy followed her into the parlour where his sister, Aline was already sitting. After initial greetings Mrs Gardner wasted no time getting to her point. "That was a terrible display of manners I saw yesterday, Roy. I hope you took Anne to task for it. I've never been treated that way, especially in my own home."

"I am sorry Mother. We did talk. Anne is," he paused before he told a complete lie. "Anne is sorrowful about the whole thing." This he felt was closer to the truth than claiming she was sorry for her words; however, it was true that Anne would have wished the whole matter had not occurred at all, including his mother's holding back of the letters and Roy felt this use of words better reflected that.

Mrs Gardner had got ahead of him though and was several sentences further into the conversation. All he heard was, "...considering Anne's not bearing you any children; I don't suppose it's too late to annul. We could investigate it at least. I'll contact Mr Lithgow."

"There's no need to bring lawyers into it, Mother. I don't want to leave Anne. We're in love."

"Oh, pshaw, Roy. That girl has bewitched you. You must see that she's completely inappropriate." Mrs Gardner paused, "in fact I wonder if her brain is soft, perhaps we should call a doctor, have her assessed."

"Mother!"

"The way she spoke to me was outrageous, Roy. I've never heard the like."

"You were hardly fair; hiding her letters."

"I was looking out for her. She needs to put the past behind and move on with her new life. No need to go looking for trouble. The sooner she forgets the better."

"Those are her friends and family."

"She can make new ones, better ones. And family is a bit strong, she was adopted after all. She can adopt a new family just as easily as she did the first one."

"It's not that easy."

"Not the way she does it, that's for sure. But with my help."

"I don't think your way will work, Mother."

"Whose side are you on, Roy?"

"It's not a matter of sides." She looked at him sternly. "It's not. We're a family. I love you Mother, but I love Anne too."

"Roy," Aline interjected. "Mother only has Anne's best interests in mind. Wouldn't do any harm to listen to her, you know."

Roy turned his attention to her, "Aline, please."

"I'm serious, Roy, I had my misgivings about Anne from the beginning. Why there were so many nice girls at college you could have picked, I don't know what you saw in her."

"I think I fell in love with her the first time we met, in the rain at the pagoda. She was such a sweet little thing."

'And that hair!" Aline continued as if he had not spoken. "Whatever can we do about that? It's so terribly red."

"I love it. I want to have a slew of red headed babies."

"Yes, now on that note what is happening there?" asked Mrs Gardner.

Roy shifted in his seat, suddenly even more uncomfortable if such a thing were possible.

"I do hope nothing's amiss in the bed chamber." Getting to his feet Roy stared out the window, he was hardly going to discuss that with his mother. However, she insisted on pressing, "Roy?"

"Nothing's wrong," he muttered.

"How m…?"

"Mother!" Aline interjected. She too felt awkward with the turn the conversation had taken.

Mrs Gardner lapsed into silence aware that perhaps she had gone too far. Instead, she tried another tack, "just have a talk with her, I want us all to be friends again."

Roy turned away from the window, "I'm not sure that's going to be possible, Mother, but I'll do my best."

Catching him on his way out, Aline said, "Mother is very upset."

"We are too."

"I don't quite understand what happened. Mother said Anne fairly flew at her."

Roy scoffed, "I'm sure Mother portrayed herself as the innocent party, but she's been isolating Anne for months. Anne found out and I admit she did rather lose her temper, but who could blame her?"

Aline looked at him quizzically, "isolating? But she's taken her to meet all the best people. That's hardly isolating her. How else will she learn to be the right wife for you, Roy? We don't expect her to be perfect right off the bat, especially given her upbringing. She must learn, as we all did."

"Anne's different."

"I know," Aline said with a sigh, "that's the problem. If you want her to be out in polite society, we must teach her to curb that tongue of hers. Mother had never been spoken to in that way. Now, I know Mother can be a bit high strung, but Anne must learn to behave."

"You sound like you're talking about a pet dog."

Aline smirked, "you said it brother, not me."

Having driven home deep in thought, Anne was so preoccupied that she hardly noticed Roy walking towards her from the opposite direction until she found him directly in front of her on their doorstep. "Oh," they each said, and she waited until he opened the door and followed him inside without a further word.