His muffled howls were the last sounds Anne heard as she left Green Gables . It rained heavily all the way to Bright River , to which station they had to go , since the branch line train from Carmody did not connect with the boat train . Charlie and Gilbert were on the station platform when they reached it , and the train was whistling . Anne had just time to get her ticket and trunk check , say a hurried farewell to Diana , and hasten on board . She wished she were going back with Diana to Avonlea ; she knew she was going to die of homesickness . And oh , if only that dismal rain would stop pouring down as if the whole world were weeping over summer vanished and joys departed ! Even Gilbert 's presence brought her no comfort , for Charlie Sloane was there , too , and Sloanishness could be tolerated only in fine weather . It was absolutely insufferable in rain . But when the boat steamed out of Charlottetown harbor things took a turn for the better . The rain ceased and the sun began to burst out goldenly now and again between the rents in the clouds , burnishing the gray seas with copper-hued radiance , and lighting up the mists that curtained the Island 's red shores with gleams of gold foretokening a fine day after all . Besides , Charlie Sloane promptly became so seasick that he had to go below , and Anne and Gilbert were left alone on deck . `` I am very glad that all the Sloanes get seasick as soon as they go on water , '' thought Anne mercilessly . `` I am sure I could n't take my farewell look at the ` ould sod ' with Charlie standing there pretending to look sentimentally at it , too . '' `` Well , we 're off , '' remarked Gilbert unsentimentally . `` Yes , I feel like Byron 's ` Childe Harold ' -- only it is n't really my ` native shore ' that I 'm watching , '' said Anne , winking her gray eyes vigorously . `` Nova Scotia is that , I suppose . But one 's native shore is the land one loves the best , and that 's good old P.E.I. for me . I ca n't believe I did n't always live here . Those eleven years before I came seem like a bad dream . It 's seven years since I crossed on this boat -- the evening Mrs. Spencer brought me over from Hopetown .
I can see myself , in that dreadful old wincey dress and faded sailor hat , exploring decks and cabins XXXXX enraptured curiosity .
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