`` I was up to see Mrs. Maxwell last night , and I met him . '' `` It -- ca n't be -- the same -- Cecil Fenwick , '' I said faintly , because I had to say something . `` Oh , yes , it is . He belongs in Blakely , New Brunswick , and he 's a lawyer , and he 's been out West twenty-two years . He 's oh ! so handsome , and just as you described him , except that his hair is quite gray . He has never married -- I asked Mrs. Maxwell -- so you see he has never forgotten you , Miss Holmes . And , oh , I believe everything is going to come out all right . '' I could n't exactly share her cheerful belief . Everything seemed to me to be coming out most horribly wrong . I was so mixed up I did n't know what to do or say . I felt as if I were in a bad dream -- it MUST be a dream -- there could n't really be a Cecil Fenwick ! My feelings were simply indescribable . Fortunately every one put my agitation down to quite a different cause , and they very kindly left me alone to recover myself . I shall never forget that awful afternoon . Right after tea I excused myself and went home as fast as I could go . There I shut myself up in my room , but NOT to write poetry in my blank book . No , indeed ! I felt in no poetical mood . I tried to look the facts squarely in the face .
There was a Cecil XXXXX , extraordinary as the coincidence was , and he was here in Avonlea .
Blakely Brunswick Fenwick Holmes Maxwell afternoon left night right years