This story is set during Anne and Gilbert's first two years at Redmond College, leading up to the fateful proposal. I wanted to explore their miscommunication...what went wrong?

*Annabelle Tessier and Dr. Scot Alfred are my creation. Everyone else belongs to Lucy Maud Montgomery.*

Chapter 1

"Gil, I am so delighted you are here! I do feel bad springing this on you last minute. I'm afraid Phil only mentioned Annabelle Tessier's house party after class this morning."

Anne glided down the steps towards Gilbert, who was smartly dressed in a pressed, ivory buttoned shirt. He had, she noticed, become decidedly more stylish - and handsome!- since they had begun university, but she didn't mention it. She filtered such thoughts from her consciousness.

Gilbert's breath caught in his throat. Like a swan, he mused, awestruck. He knew it was a gamble with Anne to mention anything about her appearance, so he just stood there, gapping.

Anne prattled on, not noticing. "I really oughtn't say it, for it will surely be construed as impertinent, but there is a certain...unpleasantness... to this girl. She talks of nothing but 'fine European taste'".

Gilbert raised his eyebrows.

"It sounds silly, I know. But her attitude is laced with such unwarranted snobbery. Strips everything beautiful and romantic...and pure... of its essence. I suppose that's what having money must do to a person? There is little scope for the imagination when you actually have everything."

Gil chuckled inwardly. Even in the moments when he was so overcome with Anne's presence he could hardly think clearly, he understood the subtleties in her dramatic proclamations.

Her values were so pure, so authentic, that Gilbert constantly found himself admiring her over and over again.

" O! You must think me uncharitable, gossiping so. Becoming more akin to our dear Rachel Lynde (here, Gil snorted aloud). I must have picked up this horrible habit, there are friends of Phil's who talk mercilessly behind the backs of other. O Gil! I've tried so hard not to fall in this trap, but alas I suspect some of their ways have rubbed off on me."

"Nonsense," Gilbert interjected gruffly. He noticed that wisps of russet hair were coming loose and falling into Anne's shining eyes.

"O, it is positively sinful!" wailed Anne, dramatically. "I cannot wait until the holidays, to return to Avonlea". She watched Gil's eyes dance, and misread them. "I know what you are going to say, Gil, we have our fair share of gossip and 'spiteful old cats' back home. It is simply not comparable to some of the horrendous cattiness I have already witnessed around here."

"Come now, Anne. I know you miss Avonlea as much as I do. It's a larger mix here, all sorts of folks. I myself heard some things that would make Mrs Barry shocked to the core. Mind you, she is rather traditional". Here, Anne smiled.

"Home is where the heart is," he quoted.

"Gil, you must surely think I've lost my philosophies of yore. Terribly hypocritical. Oh the plight of the educated!"

At this self-defeating proclamation, Gilbert could not even suppress his snort. Anne was the most transparent of souls. Her goodness radiated, she couldn't hide it in a shroud of malice or ill intent.

"No Anne, it is clear you are just as devoted to your ideals as ever. You haven't changed a bit". He said this teasingly.

As though right on cue, a mass of red curls plopped in front of Anne's eyes, clouding her vision. "Alas, the pins are slipping. I so wanted to try this new 'do, but I cannot seem to get it set like the hair of the girl in Phil's fashion catalogue".

Anne surprised even herself with this comment. There was a time, in the not-so-distant past, when she would not have dared say such silly things to Gilbert. It just slipped out, and Anne clasped a pale hand to her mouth, horrified.

Gilbert smiled. Oh Anne. Whether she was realizing it or not, she was slowly letting her guard down around him. And, despite his half-joking comment, she was changing, in subtle ways.

He had barely finished acknowledging this revelation when Anne said a second surprising thing:"Gil, pin that strand back up for me, will you? I cannot reach it properly, and it's obstructing my vision."

Any other girl would have made this request in an attempt at flirtation. In fact, flirting was far from Anne's mind, and she only recognized its implication as Gilbert reached out to fasten the wayward lock.

As for Gilbert, his mind was reeling. Anne was letting him touch her? In an ostensibly gentle and intimate way? Despite her cold reactions to his verbal sentiments of affection, he reckoned she was, indeed warming up to him. Too proud to admit it, Anne was, but there were incidents he could not ignore.

Anne bristled. "Shall we head out?"

Phil and Priscilla were already seated in the Tessier's spacious sitting room, chatting animatedly with their host.

"Yes, my ancestors were among the first landowners in Kingsport," Annabelle was saying. "Jacques Tessier came all the way from France, and built this very home with his own two hands."

Anne hung her coat and hat primly, and made eye contact with her chums.

"There you are, Anne dear," Pris gushed. "Do, come join us. Miss Mary made the most marvellous lemon cookies, you simply must try one!"

Anne approached, with Gilbert following a few paces back. As he usually did when escorting Anne to social events, he waited patiently to be addressed in conversation.

"Thank goodness that old Classics professor is retiring- what is his name again?" Annabelle had already changed the topic.

"Dr. Scot Alfred" Gilbert supplied, darkly.

"That's right. Alfie, they call him. I don't see his appeal, really. Over the hill- past it, actually. They say the old man lost it. Is raving mad".

"Actually, Dr. Alfred is a terribly competent fellow. A tad eccentric, perhaps, but he is an elderly Classics professor after all" Gilbert replied, evenly.

"But he is mad" Annabelle pressed. "He seems to believe that he's travelled by ship to remote islands, and that his crew had been intercepted by pirates. Can you imagine?!"

"A vivid imagination," returned Gilbert. He did not care much for Annabelle Tessier himself.

A half hour passed, while Annabelle continued with such idle chatter.

Gilbert shifted his eyes towards Anne, as though to say 'shall we leave?' Anne nodded in understanding, and said crisply "thank you for your lovely hospitality, Annabelle. Gil and I both have papers due tomorrow, so we really should be heading home."

As they stepped onto the vast porch of the Tessier estate, Anne and Gil were confronted with a refreshing nip in the air.

"Shall we cut through the cemetery?" Gil asked mischievously.

Anne nodded in assent.