I durs n't move . Jest crouched there quaking , poor small mite . Seemed 's if there were n't anyone in the world but meself and it was mighty big . Then all at once I saw the moon looking down at me through the apple boughs , jest like an old friend . I was comforted right off . Got up and walked to the house as brave as a lion , looking at her . Many 's the night I 've watched her from the deck of my vessel , on seas far away from here . Why do n't you folks tell me to take in the slack of my jaw and go home ? '' The laughter of the goodnights died away . Anne and Gilbert walked hand in hand around their garden . The brook that ran across the corner dimpled pellucidly in the shadows of the birches . The poppies along its banks were like shallow cups of moonlight . Flowers that had been planted by the hands of the schoolmaster 's bride flung their sweetness on the shadowy air , like the beauty and blessing of sacred yesterdays . Anne paused in the gloom to gather a spray . `` I love to smell flowers in the dark , '' she said . `` You get hold of their soul then . Oh , Gilbert , this little house is all I 've dreamed it . And I 'm so glad that we are not the first who have kept bridal tryst here ! '' CHAPTER 8 MISS CORNELIA BRYANT COMES TO CALL That September was a month of golden mists and purple hazes at Four Winds Harbor -- a month of sun-steeped days and of nights that were swimming in moonlight , or pulsating with stars . No storm marred it , no rough wind blew .
XXXXX and Gilbert put their nest in order , rambled on the shores , sailed on the harbor , drove about Four Winds and the Glen , or through the ferny , sequestered roads of the woods around the harbor head ; in short , had such a honeymoon as any lovers in the world might have envied them .
Anne Harbor days first goodnights month moon night pellucidly storm