“Oh, Marilla, you don’t mean to sell Green Gables!”
“Anne, I don’t know what else is to be done.
I’ve thought it all over.
If my eyes were strong I could stay here and make out to look after things and manage, with a good hired man.
But as it is I can’t.
I may lose my sight altogether; and anyway I’ll not be fit to run things.
Oh, I never thought I’d live to see the day when I’d have to sell my home.
But things would only go behind worse and worse all the time, till nobody would want to buy it.
Every cent of our money went in that bank; and there’s some notes Matthew gave last fall to pay.
Mrs. Lynde advises me to sell the farm and board somewhere—with her I suppose.
It won’t bring much—it’s small and the buildings are old.
But it’ll be enough for me to live on I reckon.
I’m thankful you’re provided for with that scholarship, Anne.
I’m sorry you won’t have a home to come to in your vacations, that’s all, but I suppose you’ll manage somehow.”
Marilla broke down and wept bitterly.
“You mustn’t sell Green Gables,” said Anne resolutely.
“Oh, Anne, I wish I didn’t have to.
But you can see for yourself.
I can’t stay here alone.
I’d go crazy with trouble and loneliness.
And my sight would go—I know it would.”
“You won’t have to stay here alone, Marilla.
I’ll be with you.
I’m not going to Redmond.”
“Not going to Redmond!”
Marilla lifted her worn face from her hands and looked at Anne.
“Why, what do you mean?”
“Just what I say.
I’m not going to take the scholarship.
I decided so the night after you came home from town.
You surely don’t think I could leave you alone in your trouble, Marilla, after all you’ve done for me.
I’ve been thinking and planning.
Let me tell you my plans.
Mr. Barry wants to rent the farm for next year.
So you won’t have any bother over that.
And I’m going to teach.
I’ve applied for the school here—but I don’t expect to get it for I understand the trustees have promised it to Gilbert Blythe.
But I can have the Carmody school—Mr. Blair told me so last night at the store.
Of course that won’t be quite as nice or convenient as if I had the Avonlea school.
But I can board home and drive myself over to Carmody and back, in the warm weather at least.
And even in winter I can come home Fridays.
We’ll keep a horse for that.
Oh, I have it all planned out, Marilla.
And I’ll read to you and keep you cheered up.
You sha’n’t be dull or lonesome.
And we’ll be real cozy and happy here together, you and I.”
Marilla had listened like a woman in a dream.
“Oh, Anne, I could get on real well if you were here, I know.
But I can’t let you sacrifice yourself so for me.
It would be terrible.”