Part 2 of "In The Woods When First We Met"

209. Confinement.

"Please-" Anne choked out. "P-ease do ma-" she broke off, unable to speak through her sobs. She gasped for air.

Marilla stood there, incredibly flustered. She reached out to pat Anne, but hesitated, then tried to again, finally bringing her arms around her.

Anne did not seek any comfort from Marilla and balked at her embrace.

That was when Marilla realized something was truly wrong.

She's not ill, and she knows she isn't ill. She knows she's pretending. She's lying to me and I can't even scold her for it. ...I don't know what to do.

At last Marilla said helplessly, "All right, try to calm yourself, I...I won't make you go."

---

That night at dinner, as Anne slept upstairs, Marilla told Matthew of Anne's response to going to school. Matthew was just as helpless as she was.

In the morning Marilla decided Matthew ought to be the one to try to coax Anne out of bed. "Maybe she'll respond better to you. You always seem to work some sort of charm on her, don't you?"

Matthew thought it was the other way around, actually, but he went slowly up the stairs and poked his head into Anne's bedroom. He crept in and sat down on her bed.

Anne knew he was there, but did not sit up in bed or turn around.

"Anne," Matthew said, speaking her name in a whisper. She felt his rough, farm-worn hand lay gently on her shoulder, but she still did not move. "Wouldn't you like to get up now, and have some breakfast? With me?"

Anne did not answer him. She was staring at the wall in front of her.

"Marilla says you don't want to go to school."

"No," she finally whispered.

"Is there, uh...any reason why?"

"I'm sick," Anne insisted. It had to be her reason, because she had no other. She was sick, not in any way she could recognize, but she felt it nonetheless.

"Marilla...thought you didn't seem too sick. Couldn't you get up and give it a try? ...For me?"

Anne did not respond.

"Anne?" he tried again, gently. "What if...what if you didn't have to go to school? Would you be willing just to get up and come downstairs to eat breakfast with me?"

She did not answer, and he said: "Marilla's got a nice breakfast made. Sausage and gravy, and biscuits with raspberry jam. You'd like that, wouldn't you?"

She only let go of a shaky breath.

"Aren't you hungry?"

"No," she whispered.

"But couldn't you try to eat- just a little?"

Anne clung to her lie. "I'm sick."

Matthew did not know what to say. "If I brought you up some breakfast, would you try to eat it?"

She did not answer, and finally he asked, "What about- just a glass of milk?"

Matthew came downstairs alone.

"I'm just getting her some milk," he explained to Marilla. She watched wordlessly as he went back up the stairs, milk in hand.

But a moment later he was back, still with the glass.

Marilla looked up at him in expectation.

He shook his head. There was nothing to say.

Marilla seemed flustered as she wiped her hands on her apron. She glanced about the room as if she hoped to find some sort of guidance somewhere, but there was none to be had.

Then she sighed, giving up. "Well, it hardly seems worth it to fight her on this when there's just one day left in the week, anyway- they'll be having their spelling test, and she hasn't been in school all week to learn the words."

She shook her head, eyebrows raised, and said, "I...I just don't know what to do, Matthew."

Matthew spoke slowly. "We ought to call on Dr. Carter to help."

"She isn't sick, Matthew," Marilla responded. "I know she isn't."

Matthew was unsure. "Well, now, maybe...maybe there's something we can't see. She's slept an awful lot. No one could sleep that long if there wasn't something wrong with them, could they?"

"All right," Marilla said, relenting. "I'll call upon him to take a look at her. Heaven knows I don't know what else to do."

(Note- Next the kids will go forward with the plan they had with the bloody shirt, to help anne.)