The Treaty of Versailles had been signed, the soldiers had returned home from Europe, but none of them were the same as when they left. The bloody war, which had demanded countless victims and valourous sacrifices, was over.

Cornelia Marshall Elliot sat on the Ingleside verandah, and noted, in her particular style, " Anne-dearie, I think Reverend Meredith can be soon rushed all over his feet, as there are quite a lot of weddings to be done, in the near future, in here, but also in Lowbridge, I gather."

Anne Blythe smiled, gently as she replied. " Indeed."

"How are Jem and Shirley settled, if I may ask?, that venerable woman noted," Mary Vance told me she saw Irene Howard trying to get Shirley's attention, apparently unsuccessfully, a couple of days ago when Shirley was passing through the Upper Glen. Last Sunday at the church, he looked so thin, and somehow older, not quite the youth he was when he left to do his duty in the Flying Corps, Susan Baker must be pleased that Shirley is back safe and sound."

Anne Blythe, suppressed with habitual, inner strength the throbbing pain in her heart that was always present, as anyone mentioned her remaining sons, who had returned as shadows of themselves, of sort.

Jem's limp that still languished, his eyes that were shadowy.

Shirley, whose cool, reasonable, competence had always been soothing before, in its Blythe-ness, but now it had become sharp, and filled with military-precision, as had his aloofness. There were lines in his youngest sons lean features.

Often in the evenings Anne had observed that Shirley stood on the verandah, smoke wafting from his aromatic cigarette, as he looked up at the glimmering star-studded sky. In his stillness, there were a sense of yearning that seemed to pulse.

Anne had seen how Susan had walked up to Shirley, without saying anything, and pressed her work-hardened hand upon his shoulder, at that slight touch had roused him. Shirley had muttered, " Mother Susan, it is so hard to be here. I find that I miss it, flying."

Anne nodded at Cornelia Marshall Elliott's insightful words, and remarked, "She is, we all are."

Cornelia Marshall Elliot, knitted a few rows, in her handiwork of the day, after which she said shrewdly, " Do not fret, Anne-dearie. In time all will turn well, trust in Providence."

There was a slight rustle from the kitchen, and soon the ripe aroma of a soft, lovely cake flooded the veranda, it was a of Susan brand. And critically Cornelia Marshall Elliott noted, "The next Ladies Aid meeting isn't until later this week, will you have guests perhaps, as Susan is already baking?"

Before Anne could answer, to that query, a tall youth who was dressed in a blue-gray-striped apron took the cake-pan to cool on the veranda. Shirley Blythe nodded politely to Cornelia Marshall Elliott, who seemed staggered, as he neatly shook out his apron and folded it with military efficiency.

Anne inquired cautiously, "Shirley, Susan has taught you well, who could that cake be for?" Shirley turned sharply, as he noted, "It is for me and Carl, we're going fishing tomorrow morning, early, in the direction of Lowbridge."

Cornelia Marshall Elliott murmured under her breath, "In the direction of Lowbridge, I do think that Shirley may angle something else, as fair Alice Parker lived there, before she died of that Spanish Flu, as did the whole Parker family, but of course Carl Meredith focuses on fish, for they are to him God's creatures, like all insects."

At those words, Anne sighed lightly as she said, " Cornelia, my only wish is that all my children find happiness for themselves. Nan and Jerry are happy, as are Jem and Faith, and Rilla and Ken, and in the months, years to come, as you said there is are many weddings, and opportunities to celebrations. One just has to be patient, and hope and pray that time will heal those bloody wounds of the war in my children."

The surface of the shadowy pond shimmered in a soft misty haze, it reminded Shirley of flying in light clouds. Carl almost silently set their fishing rods on the dewy grass. It was the bluish moment of the morning, the song of a bird could be heard in the distance.

Shirley noticed that Carl looked tired, his reddish scars and his blinded milky white eye looked almost inflamed in the rising light, as Carl had carelessly removed his eyepatch, as he on an occasion did, his fingers were shaking, as focusing on the bird's song, Carl threw the first throw, in a high arc the line flickered like the wings of a dragonfly. Carl's golden-brown and honey tinted hair had grown, almost tickling the collar of his striped cotton shirt, a long-fingered hand grabbing a rolled cigarette from a worn open silver box, that Shirley had won at poker from a pilot who hadn't returned to play the next round. There had been so many of such fates, battle in the sky had been merciless, as it had been down in bloody trenches choked by mud and gases, on the Western Front.

Slowly the hours passed and the heat increased, and the fish stopped nibbling on their hooks. They had a nice catch, in their baskets, with old newspaper in the bottom. The fish were gleaming wetly, there were scales stuck in Shirleys fingers, as he had with efficent manner cleaned them.

Carl stretched slowly and noted in his sincere, perceptive way, "Una shall be joyful, as she wants to try a new fish recipe, and this was a very productive morning. Well, Shirl, will you tell me why we're here and not at our usual place?"

Shirley turned to look at Carl standing in the bright sun and he just said, "There's something I have to do."

Carl wasn't too surprised as Shirley led him to the shadowy old graveyard of Lowbridge, near the Episcopal Church. Shirley walked purposefully along the narrow path, and stopped at a modest reddish tombstone. Soon the aromatic smell of tobacco wafted into the air.

Carl noticed that Shirley's gestures were serious, as he softly saluted the tombstone, and with long gliding steps walked forward down the corridor and stopped at a larger gray tombstone, which was near a lilac bush, its flowers smelled intoxicating.

Curious, Carl walked over to Shirley's side, and found himself looking at Dr. Parker's family grave. Frowning, Carl inquired, "I didn't know you knew them at all? I remember Alice was older than either of us, but she was lovely, and musical was she not? I remember Una saying so once when they were doing church parish co-operation before the war, which was a local scandal."

Shirley took a crumpled letter from his pocket, and to his surprise, Carl recognized Walter's crooked cursive on the envelope.

Shirley's shadowy gaze lingered on Alice's name, Alice Dorothea Parker(1892 -1918) as he whispered, "Walter wrote to me, while I was in Queens, that autum before Courcelette." Shirley's sure fingers stroked the frail envelope carefully, as he continued, doggedly," He wished me to visit the Parkers, and especially Alice, if the war spared me, when my turn would come, as I had written to him of my plans, of enlistement, so here I am. A promise is a promise."

Carl felt cold, realizing the possible meaning of Shirley's words, as he remembered his sister's silent sad silence, as Una did her chores at Manse, there were acute heartache in her eyes, that were similar to Carls own, in their dark, arresting deep blue shade.

Hoarsely, Carl whispered, "Do you think they were carrying on, then?"

A faint, mischievous smile came to Shirley's lips as he turned to look at Carl, and said somewhat roughly, "My late brother lived in his dreams and in his books, he was an absentminded sort. He would hardly know what to do, with a lass. But perhaps, the opportunity did come in his way somewhere in France, or Belgium, but we don't know that."

Carl smiled warmly at Shirley, as he noted, "The general opinion in the Glen is that I am extremely absentminded."

Those words caused Shirley's eyes to twinkle as he stoically walked away from the cemetery, quietly remarking, "Everyone is wrong, you are perceptive, you observe your surroundings, and people, all of them with extreme sensitivity, Walter was not similar."

Surprised, Carl burst out laughing, as Shirley continued in a somewhat disgruntled tone of voice, " Irene Howard is angling me as if I were a prize salmon, and Mother Susan is inquiring whether I have made any new pleasant acquaintance at Redmond, although I am concentrating on my studies. Higher mathematics is more interesting than forced sociability of Redmondian functions."

Carl glanced at Shirley, he seemed to radiate the same warmth as a hot day, the blooming nature of summer was glowing around them, as they arrived at the Glen fork of the reddish moist road.

He noted matter-of-factly, "Would you like to come to tea. I could show you my butterfly collection at the same time, I got some new wonderful specimens in a couple of evenings ago. Una might have been baking something. She's interested in your dessert skills."

Shirley shook his head, and with quick strokes he had tied the remaining half of the cake into a very neat package in a blue cloth, which he handed to Carl, saying, "Here, for Una."

Carl glanced thoughtfully at Shirley, knowing that behind that gesture was only thrift, and politeness, as was his way of old. Past four years had only made him more charmingly polished, if more gruff.

Carl leaned against the trunk of the linden tree, and looked at Shirley seriously as he hummed, strains of "An Old-Fashioned Garden."

The shadows of the leaves were lacy over Shirley as he sat down verdant green grass and smattering of plhox beside Carl and closed his eyes, letting Carl's clear tenor ease his mind, for Carl along with Una had inherited Cecilia's musicality, although not many in the Glen knew that, over the years, Shirley had come to know Carl's every whim.

When the music had stopped, Shirley took a deep breath as he said, "See you on Sunday, after service?" Carl, did straighten his worn braces, as he smiled quickly to Shirley, and vowed, "Always."

Una Meredith glanced over her Mozart sheet music, it was Piano Sonata No. 8 in A minor, K toward her brother, who had brought home a handsome catch of fish. Relieved, Una noticed that Carl seemed more settled in his skin, as always after his fishing trips, with Shirley Blythe.

Bruce's multicolored kittens wrestled on the floor, and before Una could start playing again Carl noted, "There is half-cake, from Shirley."

Una, nodded as she focused on the worn notes there were Bruce's delighted laugh as he ran into the kitchen inspired by Carl's words.

And that very evening, during evensong time, Rosemary inquired cautiously, " Una, you've obviously found some new recipe, that cake was excellent, even John said so."

Quietly, Una replied, "It wasn't my work, it was Shirley Blythe's."

There was a startled silence.

Rosemary Meredith, slid to the piano there were light the rustle of sheet music, and soon Manse's parlor sparkled with the inviting, alluring, "Giunse Alfin il momento..Deh, vieni" from Mozart's Le Nozze di Figaro, as Rosemary rendered those sublime notes with skill, as she rehearsed, for Betty Meade's upcoming wedding, her fiancé had requested this piece after the wedding march.

Betty Meade was a radiant bride, it must be said, and her husband was some kin of those Gardiners up in Silver Bush way. Amused, Carl noticed that Irene Howard was not among the bridesmaids, Rilla Blythe was, as was Una.

Shirley stood in the shade, as far as possible from the former Junior Reds swarming the churchyard.

Carl casually walked over to Shirley just as an unknown girl in a yellow summer dress inquired a bit pointedly, " Rumor around here is that you used to be a pilot, but I'm sure you can waltz, everyone can."

Shirley's shoulders straightened as he said in a genuinely polite but unyielding style, "I do, but I'll skip this dance, ask someone else, Miss."

With fierce steps, the girl in the yellow dress disappeared into the crowd, and amused Carl inquired, "Try to hold on, at least that girl wasn't fair Irene."

Shirley grimaced, as he muttered, "If I wanted to dance, my dance partner has to be sensible. I've already danced with all my sisters and yours, so it's better to just stand aside."

Girls in colorful dresses swarmed the yard, and thoughtfully Carl looked around and he whispered, "Susan is looking here, I suggest that we're going to dance, soon. What about that dark-haired girl with the violet dress, she seems reasonable, as she talked to Una, after the wedding service?"

Shirley cast a sharp glance in Carl's direction, as he remarked, "Too short, for me, I think she is in mourning, so she wouldn't want to dance."

Anne Blythe looked at the couples rejoicing in the yard, and she felt a little wistful, as always, weddings brought to mind past celebrations, but also old unfulfilled dreams. Nan and Jerry danced closely together, as did Jem and Faith. Di chatted eagerly with Rilla.

A little surprised Anne noticed how Carl Meredith and Shirley walked into the crowd of dancing youths, as if by agreement, and began to dance with the participants of the Silver Bush wedding party.

Mary Vance declared loudly, "The next wedding will be for Miller and me, in the fall, dearest Una."

Hours passed.

Anne felt Gilbert's gaze follow her closely as he slipped beside her and nodded towards the dance floor.

In Gilbert's grip, intoxicated by the waltzes, Anne looked around and noticed that by the refreshment table, Shirley was talking with Una quite enthusiastically. Rosemary Meredith was looking in the same direction attentively, Anne nodded to Rosemary, as Una's everlastinly blue skirts swung lightly, against Shirley's dark trousers, as they joined the others.

A/N: "An Old-Fashioned Garden" is a revue ballad by Cole Porter that was written in 1919. "Giunse Alfin il momento..Deh, vieni" is Susannah aria from Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart's comic social opera Le Nozze di Figaro,(1768)