Anne’s House of Dreams by Lucy Maud Montgomery “To Laura, in memory of the olden time.” CONTENTS Chapter 1 IN THE GARRET OF GREEN GABLES 2 THE HOUSE OF DREAMS 3 THE LAND OF DREAMS AMONG 4 THE FIRST BRIDE OF GREEN GABLES 5 THE HOME COMING 6 CAPTAIN JIM 7 THE SCHOOLMASTER’S BRIDE 8 MISS CORNELIA BRYANT COMES TO CALL 9 AN EVENING AT FOUR WINDS POINT 10 LESLIE MOORE 11 THE STORY OF LESLIE MOORE 12 LESLIE COMES OVER 13 A GHOSTLY EVENING 14 NOVEMBER DAYS 15 CHRISTMAS AT FOUR WINDS 16 NEW YEAR’S EVE AT THE LIGHT 17 A FOUR WINDS WINTER 18 SPRING DAYS 19 DAWN AND DUSK 20 LOST MARGARET 21 BARRIERS SWEPT AWAY 22 MISS CORNELIA ARRANGES MATTERS 23 OWEN FORD COMES 24 THE LIFE-BOOK OF CAPTAIN JIM 25 THE WRITING OF THE BOOK 26 OWEN FORD’S CONFESSION 27 ON THE SAND BAR 28 ODDS AND ENDS 29 GILBERT AND ANNE DISAGREE 30 LESLIE DECIDES 31 THE TRUTH MAKES FREE 32 MISS CORNELIA DISCUSSES THE AFFAIR 33 LESLIE RETURNS 34 THE SHIP O’DREAMS COMES TO HARBOR 35 POLITICS AT FOUR WINDS 36 BEAUTY FOR ASHES 37 MISS CORNELIA MAKES A STARTLING ANNOUNCEMENT 38 RED ROSES 39 CAPTAIN JIM CROSSES THE BAR 40 FAREWELL TO THE HOUSE OF DREAMS CHAPTER 1 IN THE GARRET OF GREEN GABLES “Thanks be, I’m done with geometry, learning or teaching it,” said Anne Shirley, a trifle vindictively, as she thumped a somewhat battered volume of Euclid into a big chest of books, banged the lid in triumph, and sat down upon it, looking at Diana Wright across the Green Gables garret, with gray eyes that were like a morning sky. The garret was a shadowy, suggestive, delightful place, as all garrets should be. Through the open window, by which Anne sat, blew the sweet, scented, sun-warm air of the August afternoon; outside, poplar boughs rustled and tossed in the wind; beyond them were the woods, where Lover’s Lane wound its enchanted path, and the old apple orchard which still bore its rosy harvests munificently. And, over all, was a great mountain range of snowy clouds in the blue southern sky. Through the other window was glimpsed a distant, white-capped, blue sea--the beautiful St. Lawrence Gulf, on which floats, like a jewel, Abegweit, whose softer, sweeter Indian name has long been forsaken for the more prosaic one of Prince Edward Island.