Maybe the Daisy will know

Part 4 - The wildflower's naivety

Anne ran through the crowd, going as fast as she could, just like the moment when Rachel Lynde belittled her by judging her appearance, or like that famous day when Mr. Phillips punished her on the board for hitting Gilbert Blythe with her slate after he called her "Carrots". She felt equally humiliated, although the context was quite different, and she was not a child anymore. However, today she was no longer sure, perhaps she was still a child? In any case, it turned out that running was a reflex when her emotions were out of control.

When she was running, everything around her seemed to be gone, all she could think about was finding a refuge. Suddenly she dropped her hat, which landed on the grass, and then people looked at her with a certain curiosity, because she continued to run at full speed while sowing things that belonged to her.

Still rushing, her mind wandered back to the lily-of-the-valley that Gilbert had given her that morning, then she slipped it into her hair... so naively... Sadness giving way to anger, she grabbed the sprig of lily-of-the-valley that was slipped between her blue ribbon and her hair and threw it to the ground. At the same time, a tear that was just waiting to fall, rolled down her cheek.

Now the crowd could trample the flower, just as her heart had been trampled.

Farther on, behind the redhead, it was possible to distinguish Gilbert, who had hastened to catch up with her, now he was also running between the visitors of the Fair, he could see the latter at about fifty steps in front of him. She seemed so injured, he had to reach her, he didn't really know what to say to her, but he would find comforting words when he found himself in front of her.

He couldn't help it, he had to try to do something, because he hated to see her devastated. Although he knew that Anne often had passionate reactions, he was aware that this cake meant something important to her. She had to put her heart into it, like anything she did. He couldn't stand to see her belittled, judged or bullied. He had to stand up for her every time, in any way he could, isn't that what a good friend would do?

And even this famous day when she had hit him with her slate... even that day he defended her. He just couldn't accept that others dared to make fun of her. After all, she was like a rare butterfly that had to be preserved.

He began to shorten the distance between them, but she didn't stop. He had even seen her lose her hat, which he hastened to pick up at once. Then he started shouting her name, "Anne!"

But she refused to slow down, on the contrary, she didn't want him to see her in this way. So she looked around for a moment, she seemed to be searching for a place where she could take refuge away from sight, and especially away from Gilbert's eyes. She didn't want to attract any more attention, she wanted to be alone. She passed in front of the fairground organ, which was playing music so loudly. She instantly made up her mind that if she wanted to shed a few tears without being heard, there would be no better hiding place than behind this machine.

The young man kept shouting her name, but suddenly he lost sight of her at the very moment the man on stilts passed in front of him, blocking his way for a few seconds, but above all cutting off the eye contact he had with the red-haired girl.

When the artist on stilts had finally left, it was too late, there was no more Anne, it took only a few seconds for her to disappear. But Gilbert didn't want to give up, it would take more than that for him to give up. So he continued to call her, "Anne!", but, of course, no one answered.

Then he stopped in the middle of the aisle, peering around him, but no redheads in sight. Perhaps she had already run away from the Fair? No, it was not possible. She was probably in a quieter place.

As he was about to resume his walk, he noticed a sprig of lily of the valley that was stuck to the shoe sole. Couldn't it have been...? He took the flower out of his shoe, there were still the thirteen bells. Although the flower seemed to have been trampled on by many people, including him, he decided to put it in his jacket pocket anyway.