Gilbert had gone to West Grafton on an errand and Diana had to keep an engagement at home . Anne and Charlotta had come back to put things in order and lock up the little stone house . The garden was a pool of late golden sunshine , with butterflies hovering and bees booming ; but the little house had already that indefinable air of desolation which always follows a festivity . `` Oh dear me , do n't it look lonesome ? '' sniffed Charlotta the Fourth , who had been crying all the way home from the station . `` A wedding ai n't much cheerfuller than a funeral after all , when it 's all over , Miss Shirley , ma'am . '' A busy evening followed . The decorations had to be removed , the dishes washed , the uneaten delicacies packed into a basket for the delectation of Charlotta the Fourth 's young brothers at home . Anne would not rest until everything was in apple-pie order ; after Charlotta had gone home with her plunder Anne went over the still rooms , feeling like one who trod alone some banquet hall deserted , and closed the blinds . Then she locked the door and sat down under the silver poplar to wait for Gilbert , feeling very tired but still unweariedly thinking `` long , long thoughts . '' `` What are you thinking of , Anne ? '' asked Gilbert , coming down the walk . He had left his horse and buggy out at the road . `` Of Miss Lavendar and Mr. Irving , '' answered Anne dreamily . `` Is n't it beautiful to think how everything has turned out ... how they have come together again after all the years of separation and misunderstanding ? '' `` Yes , it 's beautiful , '' said Gilbert , looking steadily down into Anne 's uplifted face , `` but would n't it have been more beautiful still , Anne , if there had been NO separation or misunderstanding ... if they had come hand in hand all the way through life , with no memories behind them but those which belonged to each other ? '' For a moment Anne 's heart fluttered queerly and for the first time her eyes faltered under Gilbert 's gaze and a rosy flush stained the paleness of her face . It was as if a veil that had hung before her inner consciousness had been lifted , giving to her view a revelation of unsuspected feelings and realities . Perhaps , after all , romance did not come into one 's life with pomp and blare , like a gay knight riding down ; perhaps it crept to one 's side like an old friend through quiet ways ; perhaps it revealed itself in seeming prose , until some sudden shaft of illumination flung athwart its pages betrayed the rhythm and the music , perhaps ... perhaps ... love unfolded naturally out of a beautiful friendship , as a golden-hearted rose slipping from its green sheath . Then the veil dropped again ; but the Anne who walked up the dark lane was not quite the same Anne who had driven gaily down it the evening before .
The page XXXXX girlhood had been turned , as by an unseen finger , and the page of womanhood was before her with all its charm and mystery , its pain and gladness .
at down for if in into like of over with