Ruby Gillis

Philippa Gordon, read by Amanda Friday.

Ruby Gillis, read by April Gonzalez.

Jane Andrews, Woman, Miss Lavender, read by Victoria Martin.

Stella Maynard, read by Grace Garrett.

Diana Barry, rosy and dimpled, shadowed by the faithful Fred.

Jane Andrews, neat and sensible and plain.

Ruby Gillis, looking her handsomest and brightest in a cream silk blouse with red geraniums in her golden hair.

Gilbert Blythe and Charlie Sloane, both trying to keep as near the elusive Anne as possible.

Jane Andrews, neat and sensible and plain.

Ruby Gillis, looking her handsomest and brightest in a cream silk blouse with red geraniums in her golden hair.

Gilbert Blythe and Charlie Sloane, both trying to keep as near the elusive Anne as possible.

Carrie Sloane, looking pale and melancholy because, so it was reported, her father would not allow Oliver Kimball to come near the place.

Gilbert again made the mistake of saying something sentimental to her as they ate their supper on the moonlit veranda, and Anne, to punish him, was gracious to Charlie Sloane and allowed the latter to walk home with her.

She found, however, that revenge hurts nobody quite so much as the one who tries to inflict it.

Gilbert walked airily off with Ruby Gillis, and Anne could hear them laughing and talking gaily as they loitered along in the still, crisp autumn air.

They were evidently having the best of good times, while she was horribly bored by Charlie Sloane, who talked unbrokenly on and never, even by accident, said one thing that was worth listening to.

Anne thought those Friday evenings gypsying over the autumnal hills in the crisp golden air with the home lights of Avonlea twinkling beyond were the best and dearest hours in the whole week.

Gilbert Blythe nearly always walked with Ruby Gillis and carried her satchel for her.

Ruby was a very handsome young lady, now thinking herself quite as grown up as she really was.

She wore her skirts as long as her mother would let her.

and did up her hair in town, though she had to take it down when she went home.

"'But I shouldn't think she was the sort of girl Gilbert would like,' whispered Jane to Anne.

Anne did not think so either, but she would not say so for the Avery Scholarship.' She could not help thinking, too, that it would be pleasant to have such a friend as Gilbert to jest and chatter with and exchange ideas about books and studies and ambitions.

Gilbert had ambitions, she knew, and Ruby Gillis did not seem the sort of person with whom such could be profitably discussed.

"'Of course, you must be Elaine, Anne,' said Diana.

'I could never have the courage to float down there.' 'Nor I,' said Ruby Gillis with a shiver.

'I don't mind floating down when there's two or three of us in the flat and we can sit up.

It's fun then.

We must pall the barge all its length in blackest samite.

That old black shawl of your mother's will be just the thing, Diana." The black shawl having been procured, Anne spread it over the flat and then lay down on the bottom, with closed eyes and hands folded above her breast.

"Oh, she really does look dead," whispered Ruby Gillis nervously, watching the still, white little face under the flickering shadows of the birches.

"It makes me feel frightened, girls.

She sits in the long seat at the back, and he sits there too most of the time to explain her lessons, he says.

But Ruby Gillis says she saw him writing something on her slate, and when Prissy read it, she blushed as red as a beet and giggled.

And Ruby Gillis says she doesn't believe it had anything to do with the lesson."

"Anne Shirley, don't let me hear you talking about your teacher in that way again,"

said Marilla sharply.

I felt so mortified, Marilla.

He might have been politer to a stranger, I think.

Ruby Gillis gave me an apple, and Sophia Sloane lent me a lovely pink card with "May I see you home?" on it.

But it was not at Jane Anne gazed that day in dismay and surprise.

It was at Ruby Gillis, who sat beside her in the choir.

What had happened to Ruby? She was even handsomer than ever, but her blue eyes were too bright and lustrous, and the color of her cheeks was hectically brilliant.

Besides, she was very thin.

The hands that held her hymn book were almost transparent in their delicacy.

Is Ruby Gillis ill? Anne asked of Mrs.

Lynd as they went home from church.

Ruby Gillis is dying of galloping consumption.

Jane Andrews, neat and sensible and plain.

Ruby Gillis, looking her handsomest and brightest in a cream silk blouse with red geraniums in her golden hair.

Gilbert Blythe and Charlie Sloane, both trying to keep as near the elusive Anne as possible.

Carrie Sloane, looking pale and melancholy because, so it was reported, her father would not allow Oliver Kimball to come near the place.

Gilbert again made the mistake of saying something sentimental to her as they ate their supper on the moonlit veranda, and Anne, to punish him, was gracious to Charlie Sloane and allowed the latter to walk home with her.

She found, however, that revenge hurts nobody quite so much as the one who tries to inflict it.

Gilbert walked airily off with Ruby Gillis, and Anne could hear them laughing and talking gaily as they loitered along in the still, crisp autumn air.

They were evidently having the best of good times, while she was horribly bored by Charlie Sloane, who talked unbrokenly on and never, even by accident, said one thing that was worth listening to.

Philippa Gordon, read by Amanda Friday.

Ruby Gillis, read by April Gonzalez.

Jane Andrews, Woman, Miss Lavender, read by Victoria Martin.

Stella Maynard, read by Grace Garrett.

Diana Barry, rosy and dimpled, shadowed by the faithful Fred.

Jane Andrews, neat and sensible and plain.

Ruby Gillis, looking her handsomest and brightest in a cream silk blouse with red geraniums in her golden hair.

Gilbert Blythe and Charlie Sloane, both trying to keep as near the elusive Anne as possible.