فصل 4

Chapter 4

More trouble for Anne

‘I think I’ll ask the new vicar, Mr Allan, and his wife to tea on Wednesday,’ said Marilla one day.

‘Oh yes, please do!’ cried Anne excitedly. ‘Mrs Allan is young and beautiful, and has a very sweet smile! Can I make a cake for tea? Say yes, Marilla!’

Marilla agreed, and for the next few days Anne planned what she would put in her cake.

‘I do hope it’s going to be a good one,’ she told Diana. ‘Sometimes I forget to put in the right things.’

‘You made a very good one last week,’ said her friend. ‘I’m sure it’ll be all right.’

On Wednesday the tea party started very well.

‘These are very good cakes, Miss Cuthbert,’ Mrs Allan said to Marilla. ‘You have been busy.’

‘Anne made this one, specially for you, Mrs Allan,’ replied Marilla.

‘Oh well, I must try some,’ laughed the vicar’s wife. But after the first mouthful there was a very strange look on her face.

‘Is anything wrong?’ asked Marilla. She ate a piece of Anne’s cake herself. ‘Oh! Anne! What have you put in this cake?’ she cried.

‘Isn’t it . . . isn’t it all right?’ asked Anne, her face red.

‘All right? It’s horrible! Don’t try to eat any more, Mrs Allan. Anne, you’ve put my medicine in this cake!’

‘Oh! I didn’t know! It was white, and in a bottle! I thought it was milk!’ sobbed Anne. She ran upstairs and fell on her bed, crying loudly.

But later that evening, when Mr and Mrs Allan went home, Marilla came to talk to her.

‘Oh Marilla! ‘ cried Anne. ‘Everybody in Avonlea will laugh at me for putting medicine in a cake!’

Marilla smiled and touched Anne’s hot face. ‘No, they won’t, Anne. Mrs Allan wasn’t angry, you know. She said it was very kind of you to make her a cake, and she’s asked you to tea at her house!’

‘Oh, so she’s forgiven me! She is nice, isn’t she?’ said Anne thankfully. ‘Why do I get into trouble like this? Perhaps I won’t make any mistakes tomorrow.’

Marilla shook her head, still smiling. ‘You’ll think of something, Anne. You’re very good at making mistakes!’

Spring came, with its bright green leaves and early flowers. One April evening Marilla came home late after visiting friends. She found the kitchen empty, and no supper on the table.

‘Where’s Anne?’ she thought crossly. ‘I told her to get the supper ready.’ She hurried upstairs to Anne’s room, and found the girl sobbing on her bed.

‘Don’t look at me, Marilla!’ Anne cried. ‘I know I’m bad, I know I am!’

‘What is the matter?’ asked Marilla. ‘Are you ill?’

‘Oh Marilla, I just want to die! Look at my hair!’ And Marilla saw that Anne’s long thick red hair was now a horrible dark green.

‘Oh Anne!’ she said, ‘What have you done now?’

‘I . . . I bought a bottle of something special from a man who came to the door. He said it would change my hair from red to black! Oh, I know it was stupid of me! But what shall I do?’

They washed Anne’s hair again and again, but it was still green. Anne stayed at home for a week, saw nobody, and washed her hair every day. But at the end of the week, Marilla said, ‘I’m sorry, Anne, we’ll have to cut it all off. You can’t go to school with green hair.’

Anne had to agree. ‘Perhaps this will teach me not to think about being beautiful,’ she said sadly.

Everybody was surprised to see Anne with very short hair, but no one learned the secret. And some weeks later, there were some new, darker red curls, which pleased Anne very much.

That summer Anne and her friends often played in an old boat on the river.

‘Today, let’s imagine that I’m a prisoner and I’m escaping from prison by boat,’ said Anne. ‘I’ll hide in the boat and the river will carry it down to the bridge. You’re my family, and you must meet me at the bridge.’

The other girls agreed, so Anne got into the boat and hid under some coats. Her friends pushed the boat off down the river and ran across the fields to get round to the bridge. For a few minutes the prisoner enjoyed the game, but then she suddenly felt wet and sat up. Water was coming in very fast through a hole in the bottom of the boat! Luckily, there were some trees by the river and Anne saw a low branch over the water. She jumped up and caught the branch. The boat went on without her and a few seconds later went down under the water.

Her friends on the bridge saw the boat, but they did not see Anne under the tree. ‘Oh! Oh! Anne’s dead! The boat’s gone down and she’s in the river!’ they screamed, and ran back to the village for help.

Poor Anne could not move. She held on and held on, but her arms were getting tired and she knew that she would fall in a minute. Suddenly, there was Gilbert Blythe in his boat!

‘Anne Shirley!’ he cried. ‘What are you doing there?’ He did not wait for an answer, but quickly helped Anne into his boat. She didn’t say a word. When they arrived at the bridge, she got out and turned away.

‘Thank you for helping me,’ she said coldly.

But Gilbert jumped out, and put a hand on her arm.

‘Anne,’ he said quickly, ‘I’m sorry I called you “carrots”. It was a long time ago. I think your hair is really nice now. Can we forget it, and be friends?’

For a second Anne wanted to say yes. But then she remembered standing alone in front of the school children all afternoon, because of Gilbert. She would never forgive him for that! ‘No,’ she replied coldly, ‘I shall never be your friend, Gilbert Blythe!’

‘All right!’ Gilbert jumped angrily back into his boat. ‘I’ll never ask you again, Anne Shirley!’

Anne walked home with her head held high, but she felt strangely sad, and wanted to cry.

‘Why are you always in trouble, Anne ?’ asked Marilla, when she heard about Anne’s adventure.

‘Well, I think I’m learning, Marilla,’ answered Anne. ‘I learn from my mistakes, and after today, I won’t use my imagination so much. I don’t think Avonlea is the right place for imagination.’

‘No, it isn’t,’ agreed Marilla a little crossly.

When she went out, Matthew, who was sitting quietly in his corner, whispered to Anne, ‘Keep a little imagination, Anne, not too much, of course, just a little.’