CHAPTER 4
THE FIRST BRIDE OF GREEN GABLES
Anne wakened on the morning of her wedding day to find the sunshinewinking in at the window of the little porch gable and a Septemberbreeze frolicking with her curtains.
"I'm so glad the sun will shine on me," she thought happily.
She recalled the first morning she had wakened in that little porchroom, when the sunshine had crept in on her through the blossom-driftof the old Snow Queen. That had not been a happy wakening, for itbrought with it the bitter disappointment of the preceding night. Butsince then the little room had been endeared and consecrated by yearsof happy childhood dreams and maiden visions. To it she had come backjoyfully after all her absences; at its window she had knelt throughthat night of bitter agony when she believed Gilbert dying, and by itshe had sat in speechless happiness the night of her betrothal. Manyvigils of joy and some of sorrow had been kept there; and today shemust leave it forever. Henceforth it would be hers no more;fifteen-year-old Dora was to inherit it when she had gone. Nor didAnne wish it otherwise; the little room was sacred to youth andgirlhood--to the past that was to close today before the chapter ofwifehood opened.
Green Gables was a busy and joyous house that forenoon. Diana arrivedearly, with little Fred and Small Anne Cordelia, to lend a hand. Davyand Dora, the Green Gables twins, whisked the babies off to the garden.
"Don't let Small Anne Cordelia spoil her clothes," warned Dianaanxiously.
"You needn't be afraid to trust her with Dora," said Marilla. "Thatchild is more sensible and careful than most of the mothers I've known.She's really a wonder in some ways. Not much like that otherharum-scarum I brought up."
Marilla smiled across her chicken salad at Anne. It might even besuspected that she liked the harum-scarum best after all.
"Those twins are real nice children," said Mrs. Rachel, when she wassure they were out of earshot. "Dora is so womanly and helpful, andDavy is developing into a very smart boy. He isn't the holy terror formischief he used to be."
"I never was so distracted in my life as I was the first six months hewas here," acknowledged Marilla. "After that I suppose I got used tohim. He's taken a great notion to farming lately, and wants me to lethim try running the farm next year. I may, for Mr. Barry doesn't thinkhe'll want to rent it much longer, and some new arrangement will haveto be made."
"Well, you certainly have a lovely day for your wedding, Anne," saidDiana, as she slipped a voluminous apron over her silken array. "Youcouldn't have had a finer one if you'd ordered it from Eaton's."
"Indeed, there's too much money going out of this Island to that sameEaton's," said Mrs. Lynde indignantly. She had strong views on thesubject of octopus-like department stores, and never lost anopportunity of airing them. "And as for those catalogues of theirs,they're the Avonlea girls' Bible now, that's what. They pore over themon Sundays instead of studying the Holy Scriptures."
"Well, they're splendid to amuse children with," said Diana. "Fred andSmall Anne look at the pictures by the hour."
"_I_ amused ten children without the aid of Eaton's catalogue," saidMrs. Rachel severely.
"Come, you two, don't quarrel over Eaton's catalogue," said Anne gaily."This is my day of days, you know. I'm so happy I want every one elseto be happy, too."
"I'm sure I hope your happiness will last, child," sighed Mrs. Rachel.She did hope it truly, and believed it, but she was afraid it was inthe nature of a challenge to Providence to flaunt your happiness tooopenly. Anne, for her own good, must be toned down a trifle.
But it was a happy and beautiful bride who came down the old,homespun-carpeted stairs that September noon--the first bride of GreenGables, slender and shining-eyed, in the mist of her maiden veil, withher arms full of roses. Gilbert, waiting for her in the hall below,looked up at her with adoring eyes. She was his at last, this evasive,long-sought Anne, won after years of patient waiting. It was to himshe was coming in the sweet surrender of the bride. Was he worthy ofher? Could he make her as happy as he hoped? If he failed her--if hecould not measure up to her standard of manhood--then, as she held outher hand, their eyes met and all doubt was swept away in a gladcertainty. They belonged to each other; and, no matter what life mighthold for them, it could never alter that. Their happiness was in eachother's keeping and both were unafraid.
They were married in the sunshine of the old orchard, circled by theloving and kindly faces of long-familiar friends. Mr. Allan marriedthem, and the Reverend Jo made what Mrs. Rachel Lynde afterwardspronounced to be the "most beautiful wedding prayer" she had everheard. Birds do not often sing in September, but one sang sweetly fromsome hidden bough while Gilbert and Anne repeated their deathless vows.Anne heard it and thrilled to it; Gilbert heard it, and wondered onlythat all the birds in the world had not burst into jubilant song; Paulheard it and later wrote a lyric about it which was one of the mostadmired in his first volume of verse; Charlotta the Fourth heard it andwas blissfully sure it meant good luck for her adored Miss Shirley.The bird sang until the ceremony was ended and then it wound up withone mad little, glad little trill. Never had the old gray-green houseamong its enfolding orchards known a blither, merrier afternoon. Allthe old jests and quips that must have done duty at weddings since Edenwere served up, and seemed as new and brilliant and mirth-provoking asif they had never been uttered before. Laughter and joy had their way;and when Anne and Gilbert left to catch the Carmody train, with Paul asdriver, the twins were ready with rice and old shoes, in the throwingof which Charlotta the Fourth and Mr. Harrison bore a valiant part.Marilla stood at the gate and watched the carriage out of sight downthe long lane with its banks of goldenrod. Anne turned at its end towave her last good-bye. She was gone--Green Gables was her home nomore; Marilla's face looked very gray and old as she turned to thehouse which Anne had filled for fourteen years, and even in herabsence, with light and life.
But Diana and her small fry, the Echo Lodge people and the Allans, hadstayed to help the two old ladies over the loneliness of the firstevening; and they contrived to have a quietly pleasant little suppertime, sitting long around the table and chatting over all the detailsof the day. While they were sitting there Anne and Gilbert werealighting from the train at Glen St. Mary.