By L.M. Montgomery
On Prince Edward Island, the place Anne Shirley grew up within the sea-sprayed city of Avonlea, there has been no scarcity of amazing stories. There was once the case of Ludovic velocity, who would not suggest to the girl he had courted for fifteen years till Anne devised a plan to "speed" him up . . . if it did not backfire and holiday his heart. But not anyone may perhaps blame mischievous Anne for the hilarious conflict of the sexes that erupted while a man-hating lady and her cat acquired quarantined within the similar condominium with a woman-hating bachelor and his puppy. From sprawling Penhallow Grange, the place a kin waits approximately perpetually for 2 quarreling fans to wreck their obdurate silence, to the tumbledown farm of outdated guy Shaw, who awaits the retum of his loved daughter, L. M. Montgomery has written twelve stories of mystery hopes and hidden desires, choked with appeal and humor.
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Additional resources for Chronicles of Avonlea (L.M. Montgomery Books)
She looked at her with some curiosity as they drew near--and then, all at once, the Old Lady's heart gave a great bound and began to beat as it had not beaten for years, while her breath came quickly and she trembled violently. Who--WHO could this girl be? Under the new music teacher's straw hat were masses of fine chestnut hair of the very shade and wave that the Old Lady remembered on another head in vanished years; from under those waves looked large, violet-blue eyes with very black lashes and brows--and the Old Lady knew those eyes as well as she knew her own; and the new music teacher's face, with all its beauty of delicate outline and dainty colouring and glad, buoyant youth, was a face from the Old Lady's past--a perfect resemblance in every respect save one; the face which the Old Lady remembered had been weak, with all its charm; but this girl's face possessed a fine, dominant strength compact of sweetness and womanliness.
Oh, I feel sure that Mrs. Moore was the fairy godmother," said Sylvia. "There is nobody else who would. It was dear of her-- she knew I wished so much to go to the party with Janet. " Sylvia gave a little sigh in spite of her joy. " Ah, Sylvia, you were wrong! There was somebody else-- somebody who cared very much--an Old Lady, with eager, devouring eyes, who was standing under the lilac bush and who presently stole away through the moonlit orchard to the woods like a shadow, going home with a vision of you in your girlish beauty to companion her through the watches of that summer night.
Nobody thought of introducing Sylvia to Old Lady Lloyd, and the Old Lady was glad of it. She sewed finely away, and listened with all her ears to the girlish chatter which went on in the opposite corner. One thing she found out--Sylvia's birthday was the twentieth of August. And the Old Lady was straightway fired with a consuming wish to give Sylvia a birthday present. She lay awake most of the night wondering if she could do it, and most sorrowfully concluded that it was utterly out of the question, no matter how she might pinch and contrive.
Chronicles of Avonlea (L.M. Montgomery Books) by L.M. Montgomery