“I was all riled up, Anne, and I said she might stay till doomsday if she waited for that; and I stuck to it.  I packed up her belongings and sent them after her.  It made an awful lot of talk . . .  Scottsford was pretty near as bad as Avonlea for gossip . . . and everybody sympathized with Emily.  It kept me all cross and cantankerous and I saw I’d have to get out or I’d never have any peace.  I concluded I’d come to the Island.  I’d been here when I was a boy and I liked it; but Emily had always said she wouldn’t live in a place where folks were scared to walk out after dark for fear they’d fall off the edge.  So, just to be contrary, I moved over here.  And that’s all there is to it.  I hadn’t ever heard a word from or about Emily till I come home from the back field Saturday and found her scrubbing the floor but with the first decent dinner I’d had since she left me all ready on the table.  She told me to eat it first and then we’d talk . . . by which I concluded that Emily had learned some lessons about getting along with a man.  So she’s here and she’s going to stay . . . seeing that Ginger’s dead and the Island’s some bigger than she thought.  There’s Mrs. Lynde and her now.  No, don’t go, Anne.  Stay and get acquainted with Emily.  She took quite a notion to you Saturday . . . wanted to know who that handsome redhaired girl was at the next house.”

Mrs. Harrison welcomed Anne radiantly and insisted on her staying to tea.

“James A. has been telling me all about you and how kind you’ve been, making cakes and things for him,” she said.  “I want to get acquainted with all my new neighbors just as soon as possible.  Mrs. Lynde is a lovely woman, isn’t she?  So friendly.”

When Anne went home in the sweet June dusk, Mrs. Harrison went with her across the fields where the fireflies were lighting their starry lamps.

“I suppose,” said Mrs. Harrison confidentially, “that James A. has told you our story?”

“Yes.”

“Then I needn’t tell it, for James A. is a just man and he would tell the truth.  The blame was far from being all on his side.  I can see that now.  I wasn’t back in my own house an hour before I wished I hadn’t been so hasty but I wouldn’t give in.  I see now that I expected too much of a man.  And I was real foolish to mind his bad grammar.  It doesn’t matter if a man does use bad grammar so long as he is a good provider and doesn’t go poking round the pantry to see how much sugar you’ve used in a week.  I feel that James A. and I are going to be real happy now.  I wish I knew who ‘Observer’ is, so that I could thank him.  I owe him a real debt of gratitude.”

Anne kept her own counsel and Mrs. Harrison never knew that her gratitude found its way to its object.  Anne felt rather bewildered over the far-reaching consequences of those foolish “notes.”  They had reconciled a man to his wife and made the reputation of a prophet.

Mrs. Lynde was in the Green Gables kitchen.  She had been telling the whole story to Marilla.