Anne of the Island HTML version

XXI. Roses of Yesterday
The fortnight Anne spent in Bolingbroke was a very pleasant one, with a little under
current of vague pain and dissatisfaction running through it whenever she thought about
Gilbert. There was not, however, much time to think about him. "Mount Holly," the
beautiful old Gordon homestead, was a very gay place, overrun by Phil's friends of both
sexes. There was quite a bewildering succession of drives, dances, picnics and boating
parties, all expressively lumped together by Phil under the head of "jamborees"; Alec
and Alonzo were so constantly on hand that Anne wondered if they ever did anything
but dance attendance on that will-o'-the-wisp of a Phil. They were both nice, manly
fellows, but Anne would not be drawn into any opinion as to which was the nicer.
"And I depended so on you to help me make up my mind which of them I should
promise to marry," mourned Phil.
"You must do that for yourself. You are quite expert at making up your mind as to whom
other people should marry," retorted Anne, rather caustically.
"Oh, that's a very different thing," said Phil, truly.
But the sweetest incident of Anne's sojourn in Bolingbroke was the visit to her
birthplace--the little shabby yellow house in an out-of-the-way street she had so often
dreamed about. She looked at it with delighted eyes, as she and Phil turned in at the
"It's almost exactly as I've pictured it," she said. "There is no honeysuckle over the
windows, but there is a lilac tree by the gate, and--yes, there are the muslin curtains in
the windows. How glad I am it is still painted yellow."
A very tall, very thin woman opened the door.
"Yes, the Shirleys lived here twenty years ago," she said, in answer to Anne's question.
"They had it rented. I remember 'em. They both died of fever at onct. It was turrible sad.
They left a baby. I guess it's dead long ago. It was a sickly thing. Old Thomas and his
wife took it--as if they hadn't enough of their own."
"It didn't die," said Anne, smiling. "I was that baby."
"You don't say so! Why, you have grown," exclaimed the woman, as if she were much
surprised that Anne was not still a baby. "Come to look at you, I see the resemblance.
You're complected like your pa. He had red hair. But you favor your ma in your eyes
and mouth. She was a nice little thing. My darter went to school to her and was nigh
crazy about her. They was buried in the one grave and the School Board put up a
tombstone to them as a reward for faithful service. Will you come in?"