Gilbert Blythe nearly always walked with Ruby1 Gillis and carried her satchel2 for her. Ruby was a very handsome young lady, now thinking herself quite as grown up as she really was; she wore her skirts as long as her mother would let her and did her hair up in town, though she had to take it down when she went home. She had large, bright-blue eyes, a brilliant complexion3, and a plump showy figure. She laughed a great deal, was cheerful and good-tempered, and enjoyed the pleasant things of life frankly4.
“But I shouldn’t think she was the sort of girl Gilbert would like,” whispered Jane to Anne. Anne did not think so either, but she would not have said so for the Avery scholarship. She could not help thinking, too, that it would be very pleasant to have such a friend as Gilbert to jest and chatter5 with and exchange ideas about books and studies and ambitions. Gilbert had ambitions, she knew, and Ruby Gillis did not seem the sort of person with whom such could be profitably discussed.
There was no silly sentiment in Anne’s ideas concerning Gilbert. Boys were to her, when she thought about them at all, merely possible good comrades. If she and Gilbert had been friends she would not have cared how many other friends he had nor with whom he walked. She had a genius for friendship; girl friends she had in plenty; but she had a vague consciousness that masculine friendship might also be a good thing to round out one’s conceptions of companionship and furnish broader standpoints of judgment6 and comparison. Not that Anne could have put her feelings on the matter into just such clear definition. But she thought that if Gilbert had ever walked home with her from the train, over the crisp fields and along the ferny byways, they might have had many and merry and interesting conversations about the new world that was opening around them and their hopes and ambitions therein. Gilbert was a clever young fellow, with his own thoughts about things and a determination to get the best out of life and put the best into it. Ruby Gillis told Jane Andrews that she didn’t understand half the things Gilbert Blythe said; he talked just like Anne Shirley did when she had a thoughtful fit on and for her part she didn’t think it any fun to be bothering about books and that sort of thing when you didn’t have to. Frank Stockley had lots more dash and go, but then he wasn’t half as good-looking as Gilbert and she really couldn’t decide which she liked best!
In the Academy Anne gradually drew a little circle of friends about her, thoughtful, imaginative, ambitious students like herself. With the “rose-red” girl, Stella Maynard, and the “dream girl,” Priscilla Grant, she soon became intimate, finding the latter pale spiritual-looking maiden7 to be full to the brim of mischief8 and pranks9 and fun, while the vivid, black-eyed Stella had a heartful of wistful dreams and fancies, as aerial and rainbow-like as Anne’s own.
After the Christmas holidays the Avonlea students gave up going home on Fridays and settled down to hard work. By this time all the Queen’s scholars had gravitated into their own places in the ranks and the various classes had assumed distinct and settled shadings of individuality. Certain facts had become generally accepted. It was admitted that the medal contestants10 had practically narrowed down to three—Gilbert Blythe, Anne Shirley, and Lewis Wilson; the Avery scholarship was more doubtful, any one of a certain six being a possible winner. The bronze medal for mathematics was considered as good as won by a fat, funny little up-country boy with a bumpy11 forehead and a patched coat.
Ruby Gillis was the handsomest girl of the year at the Academy; in the Second Year classes Stella Maynard carried off the palm for beauty, with small but critical minority in favor of Anne Shirley. Ethel Marr was admitted by all competent judges to have the most stylish12 modes of hair-dressing, and Jane Andrews—plain, plodding13, conscientious14 Jane—carried off the honors in the domestic science course. Even Josie Pye attained16 a certain preeminence17 as the sharpest-tongued young lady in attendance at Queen’s. So it may be fairly stated that Miss Stacy’s old pupils held their own in the wider arena18 of the academical course.
Anne worked hard and steadily19. Her rivalry20 with Gilbert was as intense as it had ever been in Avonlea school, although it was not known in the class at large, but somehow the bitterness had gone out of it. Anne no longer wished to win for the sake of defeating Gilbert; rather, for the proud consciousness of a well-won victory over a worthy21 foeman. It would be worth while to win, but she no longer thought life would be insupportable if she did not.
In spite of lessons the students found opportunities for pleasant times. Anne spent many of her spare hours at Beechwood and generally ate her Sunday dinners there and went to church with Miss Barry. The latter was, as she admitted, growing old, but her black eyes were not dim nor the vigor22 of her tongue in the least abated23. But she never sharpened the latter on Anne, who continued to be a prime favorite with the critical old lady.
“That Anne-girl improves all the time,” she said. “I get tired of other girls—there is such a provoking and eternal sameness about them. Anne has as many shades as a rainbow and every shade is the prettiest while it lasts. I don’t know that she is as amusing as she was when she was a child, but she makes me love her and I like people who make me love them. It saves me so much trouble in making myself love them.”
Then, almost before anybody realized it, spring had come; out in Avonlea the Mayflowers were peeping pinkly out on the sere24 barrens where snow-wreaths lingered; and the “mist of green” was on the woods and in the valleys. But in Charlottetown harassed25 Queen’s students thought and talked only of examinations.
“It doesn’t seem possible that the term is nearly over,” said Anne. “Why, last fall it seemed so long to look forward to—a whole winter of studies and classes. And here we are, with the exams looming26 up next week. Girls, sometimes I feel as if those exams meant everything, but when I look at the big buds swelling27 on those chestnut28 trees and the misty29 blue air at the end of the streets they don’t seem half so important.”
Jane and Ruby and Josie, who had dropped in, did not take this view of it. To them the coming examinations were constantly very important indeed—far more important than chestnut buds or Maytime hazes30. It was all very well for Anne, who was sure of passing at least, to have her moments of belittling31 them, but when your whole future depended on them—as the girls truly thought theirs did—you could not regard them philosophically32.
“I’ve lost seven pounds in the last two weeks,” sighed Jane. “It’s no use to say don’t worry. I will worry. Worrying helps you some—it seems as if you were doing something when you’re worrying. It would be dreadful if I failed to get my license33 after going to Queen’s all winter and spending so much money.”
“I don’t care,” said Josie Pye. “If I don’t pass this year I’m coming back next. My father can afford to send me. Anne, Frank Stockley says that Professor Tremaine said Gilbert Blythe was sure to get the medal and that Emily Clay would likely win the Avery scholarship.”
“That may make me feel badly tomorrow, Josie,” laughed Anne, “but just now I honestly feel that as long as I know the violets are coming out all purple down in the hollow below Green Gables and that little ferns are poking34 their heads up in Lovers’ Lane, it’s not a great deal of difference whether I win the Avery or not. I’ve done my best and I begin to understand what is meant by the ‘joy of the strife35.’ Next to trying and winning, the best thing is trying and failing. Girls, don’t talk about exams! Look at that arch of pale green sky over those houses and picture to yourself what it must look like over the purply-dark beech-woods back of Avonlea.”
“What are you going to wear for commencement, Jane?” asked Ruby practically.
Jane and Josie both answered at once and the chatter drifted into a side eddy36 of fashions. But Anne, with her elbows on the window sill, her soft cheek laid against her clasped hands, and her eyes filled with visions, looked out unheedingly across city roof and spire37 to that glorious dome15 of sunset sky and wove her dreams of a possible future from the golden tissue of youth’s own optimism. All the Beyond was hers with its possibilities lurking38 rosily39 in the oncoming years—each year a rose of promise to be woven into an immortal40 chaplet.
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1
ruby
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| n.红宝石，红宝石色 | |
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satchel
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| n.(皮或帆布的)书包 | |
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complexion
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| n.肤色；情况，局面；气质，性格 | |
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frankly
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| adv.坦白地，直率地；坦率地说 | |
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chatter
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| vi.／n.喋喋不休；短促尖叫；(牙齿)打战 | |
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judgment
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| n.审判；判断力，识别力，看法，意见 | |
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maiden
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| n.少女，处女；adj.未婚的，纯洁的，无经验的 | |
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mischief
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| n.损害，伤害，危害；恶作剧，捣蛋，胡闹 | |
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pranks
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| n.玩笑，恶作剧( prank的名词复数 ) | |
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contestants
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| n.竞争者，参赛者( contestant的名词复数 ) | |
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bumpy
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| adj.颠簸不平的，崎岖的 | |
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stylish
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| adj.流行的，时髦的；漂亮的，气派的 | |
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plodding
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| a.proceeding in a slow or dull way | |
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conscientious
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| adj.审慎正直的，认真的，本着良心的 | |
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dome
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| n.圆屋顶，拱顶 | |
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attained
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| （通常经过努力）实现( attain的过去式和过去分词 )； 达到； 获得； 达到（某年龄、水平、状况） | |
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preeminence
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| n.卓越,杰出 | |
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arena
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| n.竞技场，运动场所；竞争场所，舞台 | |
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steadily
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| adv.稳定地；不变地；持续地 | |
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rivalry
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| n.竞争，竞赛，对抗 | |
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worthy
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| adj.(of)值得的，配得上的；有价值的 | |
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vigor
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| n.活力，精力，元气 | |
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abated
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| 减少( abate的过去式和过去分词 )； 减去； 降价； 撤消（诉讼） | |
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sere
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| adj.干枯的；n.演替系列 | |
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harassed
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| adj. 疲倦的，厌烦的 动词harass的过去式和过去分词 | |
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looming
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| n.上现蜃景（光通过低层大气发生异常折射形成的一种海市蜃楼）v.隐约出现，阴森地逼近( loom的现在分词 )；隐约出现，阴森地逼近 | |
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swelling
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| n.肿胀 | |
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chestnut
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| n.栗树，栗子 | |
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misty
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| adj.雾蒙蒙的，有雾的 | |
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hazes
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| n.（烟尘等的）雾霭( haze的名词复数 )；迷蒙；迷糊；（尤指热天引起的）薄雾v.（使）笼罩在薄雾中( haze的第三人称单数 )；戏弄，欺凌（新生等，有时作为加入美国大学生联谊会的条件） | |
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belittling
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| 使显得微小，轻视，贬低( belittle的现在分词 ) | |
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philosophically
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| adv.哲学上；富有哲理性地；贤明地；冷静地 | |
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license
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| n.执照，许可证，特许；v.许可，特许 | |
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poking
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| n. 刺，戳，袋 vt. 拨开，刺，戳 vi. 戳，刺，捅，搜索，伸出，行动散慢 | |
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strife
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| n.争吵，冲突，倾轧，竞争 | |
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eddy
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| n.漩涡，涡流 | |
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spire
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| n.(教堂)尖顶，尖塔，高点 | |
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lurking
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| 潜在 | |
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rosily
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| adv.带玫瑰色地，乐观地 | |
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immortal
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| adj.不朽的；永生的，不死的；神的 | |
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