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"I have a dream," he said slowly. "I persist in dreaming it,

although it has often seemed to me that it could never come true.
I dream of a home with a hearth-fire in it, a cat and dog, the

footsteps of friends -- and YOU!"
Anne wanted to speak but she could find no words. Happiness was

breaking over her like a wave. It almost frightened her.
"I asked you a question over two years ago, Anne. If I ask it

again today will you give me a different answer?"
Still Anne could not speak. But she lifted her eyes, shining

with all the love-rapture of countless generations, and looked
into his for a moment. He wanted no other answer.

They lingered in the old garden until twilight, sweet as dusk in
Eden must have been, crept over it. There was so much to talk

over and recall -- things said and done and heard and thought and
felt and misunderstood.

"I thought you loved Christine Stuart," Anne told him, as
reproachfully as if she had not given him every reason to

suppose that she loved Roy Gardner.
Gilbert laughed boyishly.

"Christine was engaged to somebody in her home town. I knew it
and she knew I knew it. When her brother graduated he told me

his sister was coming to Kingsport the next winter to take music,
and asked me if I would look after her a bit, as she knew no one

and would be very lonely. So I did. And then I liked Christine
for her own sake. She is one of the nicest girls I've ever

known. I knew college gossip credited us with being in love with
each other. I didn't care. Nothing mattered much to me for a

time there, after you told me you could never love me, Anne.
There was nobody else -- there never could be anybody else for me

but you. I've loved you ever since that day you broke your slate
over my head in school."

"I don't see how you could keep on loving me when I was such a
little fool," said Anne.

"Well, I tried to stop," said Gilbert frankly, "not because I
thought you what you call yourself, but because I felt sure there

was no chance for me after Gardner came on the scene. But I
couldn't -- and I can't tell you, either, what it's meant to me

these two years to believe you were going to marry him, and be
told every week by some busybody that your engagement was on the

point of being announced. I believed it until one blessed day
when I was sitting up after the fever. I got a letter from Phil

Gordon -- Phil Blake, rather -- in which she told me there was
really nothing between you and Roy, and advised me to `try again.'

Well, the doctor was amazed at my rapid recovery after that."
Anne laughed -- then shivered.

"I can never forget the night I thought you were dying, Gilbert.
Oh, I knew -- I KNEW then -- and I thought it was too late."

"But it wasn't, sweetheart. Oh, Anne, this makes up for
everything, doesn't it? Let's resolve to keep this day sacred to

perfect beauty all our lives for the gift it has given us."
"It's the birthday of our happiness," said Anne softly.

"I've always loved this old garden of Hester Gray's,
and now it will be dearer than ever."

"But I'll have to ask you to wait a long time, Anne,"
said Gilbert sadly. "It will be three years before

I'll finish my medical course. And even then there
will be no diamond sunbursts and marble halls."

Anne laughed.
"I don't want sunbursts and marble halls. I just want YOU.

You see I'm quite as shameless as Phil about it. Sunbursts and
marble halls may be all very well, but there is more `scope for

imagination' without them. And as for the waiting, that doesn't
matter. We'll just be happy, waiting and working for each other

-- and dreaming. Oh, dreams will be very sweet now."
Gilbert drew her close to him and kissed her. Then they walked

home together in the dusk, crowned king and queen in the bridal
realm of love, along winding paths fringed with the sweetest

flowers that ever bloomed, and over haunted meadows where winds
of hope and memory blew.

End


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