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Post by Anne on Sept 15, 2008 10:09:37 GMT -5
*Marilla and Anne had returned home at long last, with Marilla's vision restored. Avonlea had been buzzing about it for weeks since their return (among other things--after all, Moody Spurgeon had married a girl from out West and the Pye's cat had run away a month previously and returned missing one of its ears--there was no lack of other news to easily balance out Marilla Cuthbert's medical miracle.)
Anne had gotten her old job back, and was due to begin teaching at Avonlea school again in the fall; and so she spent the summer's long golden hours pretty well as she pleased, after helping Marilla with the house and making certain the farm was doing well under Mr. Barry.
Still, there was this nagging feeling of ennui that would not desert her. She had refreshed her soul in every way she knew how--delicious starlit ramblings, visits with Diana and Gil, swimming in secret off behind the rolling red dunes, sitting by Dryad's Bubble and listening to the music of the wind in the firs and the tinkling of the brook, eating apples perched on a ladder in the Green Gables orchard... Alas, nothing seemed to work.
It was with a strangely, perpetually heavy heart that she went out with a basket to collect eggs, for lack of any other balm for her soul, she reasoned that throwing herself into any and all work was the answer to her soul's growing pains.*
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Post by Mr. Darcy on Sept 16, 2008 12:54:04 GMT -5
At some point in October, a few days after the Darcys had arrived at White Sands, a letter came for Anne that was postmarked significantly closer to Avonlea than London.
My Dear Miss Shirley--
You will never guess what has happened. I meant to write you of all my adventures in Europe, and to hear of yours in Avonlea. How curious, then, that I shall have opportunity to see your lovely town for myself! I consider myself very fortunate to find myself here, as it is more beautiful even than you have described, though I consider that no fault of your own.
I hope you will not think me impertinent if I wish to call on you. To be honest, I had no thought that I would be in a position to accept your and Miss Cuthbert's kind invitation when you made it last summer; but I hope you will not hold that against me.
Your friends,
Georgiana Darcy.
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Post by Anne on Sept 16, 2008 13:05:33 GMT -5
Dear Georgiana,
Of course Marilla and I would be delighted to have you visit us at Green Gables! Rachel Lynde will be keen to tell you of all of Avonlea's delights...Davy is a terror at times, but a dear boy--he will like to hear of far-off places you have been; and Dora will be overjoyed to meet such a fine lady.
Yours
Anne Shirley.
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Post by Mr. Darcy on Sept 16, 2008 13:56:21 GMT -5
Georgiana had reddened a little upon reading "fine lady," and spent a great deal of time finding something suitably not-ostentatious to wear, which considering her wardrobe was not difficult. Darcy failed to see what all the fuss was about. It wasn't as if Miss Shirley wasn't aware of their financial situation, and he didn't see what difference it made what one wore, as long as it was serviceable and was not gaudy.
He was rather partial to his green striped waistcoat, however, but he allowed himself that small indulgence and did not wear it constantly. Today he was simply dressed, though the material and tailoring were fine.
Not that he cared what Anne thought of his attire.
Their carriage pulled up to Green Gables on the day secured by Georgiana for their visit. The house, while a far cry from the stately stone homes of their acquaintance, was charming enough and lived up to its name.
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Post by Anne on Sept 16, 2008 16:03:02 GMT -5
*Anne came out of the porch door, Marilla and Rachel following close behind as Davy and Dora raced on ahead to open the gate and hang on the fence, goggling at the fine carriage and Anne's strange European friends inside it. Davy gaped quite openly but Dora managed a shy little curtsy to them as they stepped from the carriage.
Marilla was smiling, Rachel Lynde was nearly bursting to start talking, and Anne just grinned at them both, her eyes lighting up a little as she saw Darcy. She had not expected him, somehow, and yet it seemed so right that he was here, now.*
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Post by Mr. Darcy on Sept 16, 2008 16:26:30 GMT -5
Darcy was certain he imagined Anne's delight at his presence. Surely she'd known he was here.
Georgiana, who had become altogether too headstrong lately (though Darcy was privately proud of her), marched up to Anne in a most gracious manner and took her hand in both of hers.
"Miss Shirley," she said in her warm, quiet way, "it's so lovely of you to have us."
Darcy bowed behind her, and both looked expectantly at the gathered masses.
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Post by Anne on Sept 16, 2008 16:31:00 GMT -5
*Anne squeezed Georgiana's hands in hers.*
"I'm so pleased you've both come," *she said happily, before turning to the rest of the household.*
"Mr. Darcy, Georgiana Darcy--of course you already know Marilla--I'd like you to meet Mrs. Rachel Lynde, and Davy and Dora Keith."
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Post by Mr. Darcy on Sept 16, 2008 16:42:17 GMT -5
Darcy and his sister smiled at all of them and greeted them with perhaps more refinement than they were used to, and they'd have been forgiven for taking the Darcys' reserve for snobbishness, which it was not.
"I trust you are well, Miss Shirley? And Miss Cuthbert, your eyesight--it is quite recovered?"
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Post by Anne on Sept 16, 2008 16:50:01 GMT -5
"Yes, thank you, Mr. Darcy," *said Anne.*
"Oh, yes. I've much to be grateful for and nothing to complain of," *said Marilla.* "Now you both come and have a cup of tea on the veranda--we'll not have many more fine days like this left in the year."
"What brings you all the way out to Avonlea, Mr. Darcy, Miss Darcy?" *asked Rachel Lynde.*
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Post by Mr. Darcy on Sept 16, 2008 17:18:54 GMT -5
They followed to the veranda. Darcy was surprised she had not heard, but perhaps she was being polite.
"Do you know the White Sands Hotel?" he asked mildly. "It seems, through some vagaries of inheritance and business, that it has... fallen into our hands."
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Post by Anne on Sept 16, 2008 17:37:00 GMT -5
"You mean YOU'RE the new owner?" *asked Anne with some amazement.*
"Well, fancy that! I'd heard it was some Englishman who'd got it, but never thought it would be a friend of our Anne's," *said Rachel.*
"Do you plan to spend much time in Avonlea, then, Mr. Darcy?" *asked Marilla.*
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Post by Mr. Darcy on Sept 16, 2008 17:50:34 GMT -5
Darcy secretly agreed that as a coincidence, it was something beyond credible.
"I haven't decided, Miss Cuthbert," he said. "I'm here to decide what, if anything, is to be done with it."
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Post by Anne on Sept 16, 2008 17:55:37 GMT -5
"Done with it? Well there's not much TO be done with the place, that's what. Everything's up to the latest fashions in the White Sands Hotel, though I don't know but sometimes fashions and fads seem less than practical from time to time; but there's no finer place on the North Shore that can be had for any amount of money, and that you can tie to, Mr. Darcy," *said Rachel.*
"It is quite a fine hotel," *said Anne.*
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Post by Mr. Darcy on Sept 17, 2008 9:51:04 GMT -5
Darcy had considered Anne one of the most forthright people of his acquaintance, but she had not entirely prepared him for Rachel Lynde. But the woman was clearly on the defensive.
"I did not mean to imply otherwise, m'am," he said serenely, wondering how he always seemed to find himself in social situations with extremely talkative people. "Merely that I have never been in the position of responsibility for such an enterprise, and am thus still puzzling out the details. I hope I can look to your guidance in these matters, Mrs. Lynde. I confess, fashion is not my metier."
This had been a stupid idea, he thought to himself. Why had he let Georgiana talk him into this? He looked foolish, coming here all in state--it wasn't as if he could help coming in any other way, but that just meant he shouldn't have come at all. How could this look to Anne?
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Post by Anne on Sept 17, 2008 9:59:56 GMT -5
"Well, I don't know but there's been some real pretty wallpaper patterns in the catalogues lately..."
*Rachel was off discussing the merits of rosebud sprays versus more abstract gilt patterns, and Anne had to hide her smile behind her teacup.*
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