Gilbert left Avonlea and Anne, but surely not forever?
Here's how we think Gilbert Blythe will return!
- A collection of one-shots about Gilbert's return to Avonlea
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It was just a normal day in the Avonlea school until Jane Andrews' coat started mewling.
Within the white walls of the Avonlea schoolhouse, the two rows of students were diligently bent over their slates while Mr. Phillips wrote math problems on the blackboard. Everything was silent except for the scratching noise of chalk.
Meow.
Anne Shirley-Cuthbert froze in her seat, then sat up straight and alert, ears perked. The rest of the class stirred as well, looking around for wherever the peculiar noise had come from.
Anne and Diana Barry looked at each other.
"Was that a cat?" Anne's voice was low so Mr. Phillips wouldn't hear.
"It couldn't have been," Diana whispered back.
After a few more curious glances around the schoolhouse and still finding nothing out of the ordinary, the students returned to their work, before Mr. Phillips could catch them slacking.
There was another meow. This time so distinct no one could dismiss it as anything else. The row of girls in the class, all dressed in shades of pleasant pastel, seemed to turn in unison to look back at a very red face Jane Andrews. She was wearing a coat, which was odd as most students normally hung their coats out in the mudroom, especially on a warm spring day like this. Even odder she was clutching the front of it in a most peculiar fashion. And, unless Anne was imagining it, it seemed to be moving. Meanwhile Jane was doing a very poor job of appearing nonchalant.
Josie Pye squinted at the girl currently being scrutinized. "Jane, did your coat just meow?"
"No." Jane was a little to quick in her response.
"What is going on here?" The girls jumped at Mr. Phillips voice and quickly swung around to face their teacher. He was eyeing them suspiciously.
"Nothing," said Anne quickly.
The other girls nodded in agreement. They did not want to condemn Jane - even if her coat was meowing.
Mr. Phillips was about to return to the blackboard when Jane's hand shot up in the air. Mr. Phillips, rolled his eyes impatiently. He was extremely vexed whenever a student asked him a question - which was one of the many reasons he made a terrible teacher. "What is it?"
"Could I use the outhouse?" There was a spattering of giggles at Jane's request, but it Jane's need was too great for her to feel abashed.
"If you must." Mr. Phillips heaved a great sigh as if Jane using the outhouse caused him the greatest inconvenience.
Jane was already out the door.
"Be quick about it," Mr. Phillips called after her before returning to his domain at the front of the classroom.
