She gave Pensie a queenly presence, evoking images of Cupid’s bow like those in Tennyson’s poems. She had to show her how much she loved her. She sent the poem in the post the following day.
When Father brought in a stack of letters a week later from Mollie, Grandma, Jack, and Pensie (which included some gum), Maud leaped for joy. She would submerge herself in these stories under Aunt Annie’s quilt in Southview and forget everything. She didn’t know if Pensie’s letter was in response to her poem, since it was too soon for the poem to have reached the Island, but it did mean that her bosom friend had written to her! Pensie still loved her. She would save her letter for last.
Mollie’s letter was full of school news:
Dearest Pollie,
It is hard to imagine that once again when I enter school tomorrow you won’t be there. Nothing is the same here since you’ve moved halfway across the world. Even Miss Gordon is bored without us Four Musketeers causing all sorts of fun. I suspect she will miss your help with the Christmas Examination Concert this year as she has to rely on Clemmie and Nellie, and there is Annie’s claim to know everything.
Jack and I try where we can, of course, but with Nate gone, I’m not sure how effective we are. Jack is quiet at the best of times, so it falls to me and that is no fun. Speaking of Jack, did he tell you he was leaving? He is following in Nate’s footsteps and going off to college. Can you imagine Jack a teacher? I suppose someone should tell him he is actually going to have to speak to his students…
I miss you dreadfully, Pollie! Oh, I know it isn’t your fault everyone is leaving me behind. I am to be alone, forced to befriend Clemmie, Nellie, Mamie, and Annie. It helps to be among them, particularly when George Robertson comes to a literary or prayer meeting. It seems no amount of teasing from us will dissuade him from his intentions. If only Jack would make his move, then George might leave me alone! I might have to resort to some drastic measures to make my feelings known.
Besides, Mother and Father are talking about how my attentions should be on a suitable husband rather than college.
Have you heard from Nate? I haven’t, but Jack says he’s well.
Do tell me all of your news from out west. Have you seen a buffalo?
Love, Mollie
Jack confirmed Mollie’s news, his letter as brief as his speech:
Dear Polly,
So funny to call you that. We are not those four anymore, are we? Although Molly certainly tries. I suppose she’s told you I’ll be off to Prince of Wales College next term. I certainly cannot allow Lockhart to get ahead of me. It will make his head swell more than it already has.
Will you be back in the summer? I’ll be home before I head off to college. It would be nice to see you again.
Write soon and tell me about Prince Albert.
Sincerely,
Jack (a.k.a. Snap)
Maud took a deep breath and, chewing some of the gum Pensie had sent, finally read her letter. As she read, her stomach twisted more and more. It was deeply disappointing: a series of facts about the weather and nothing about her cats, or anything else Maud had asked Pensie about in her previous letter…and, what’s more, she asked about Nate in a way that appeared more than just mere curiosity: Have you heard from Nate? I am sure the two of you are now writing secret love letters.
Why would Pensie bring that up? Was she trying to upset her? Clearly, she was still angry. She knew about Maud’s feelings. And maybe that was the point. Was this her revenge? Maud needed to convince her otherwise—and show her loyalty.
Now see here Pen I am going to give you a little scolding, she wrote, her hand shaking. She took a deep breath, steeling herself against what she knew she must write. I think you are too awfully mean for anything to keep teasing me eternally about that detestable pig Nate Lockhart.
Detestable was a good word. But was it strong enough? She took another breath.
You know I hate him, and if you mention his name in your letters one more time, I’ll never write to you again.
—
A few week weeks later, Pensie finally wrote back and apologized for her comments, and while her letters continued to lack creativity, they at least came regularly.
Maud had been wrong when she’d believed she would be spending more time with Father. Between the Kinistino Lodge, his auctioneer business, and now running for counselor, he was frequently gone most of the day—and even when he was home, there were always people coming to see him.
Unless she was too tired, Mrs. Montgomery often insisted on accompanying her husband, which meant that most days after school, it was up to Maud to feed, play with, and put Katie to bed. Maud didn’t mind so much, but as more of the household chores fell to her and Edie, there was less time to write.
Maud was also wrong when she had believed taking care of Katie would alleviate the tension with Mrs. Montgomery. While her stepmother was happy to see Maud “pulling her weight,” she was never gracious, nor grateful. In fact, it was as though she had expected Maud to play nanny to her half-sister all along.
Spending so much time with Katie reminded Maud of something her Aunt Emily had said to her two years before, after the Izzie Robinson incident. When Maud arrived at the gray house in Malpeque, Aunt Emily had frowned and said, “Once again, you’ve been thrown at my door. Wasn’t giving up eight years of my life enough for my mother?”
Before Aunt Emily had met Uncle John Malcolm, she had been like an attentive older sister. Maud had fond memories of Saturday picnics at the shore and lectures at Cavendish Hall. But as Maud grew older, Aunt Emily had grown cruel, often fighting with Grandma and Grandfather about wanting to go out with her friends. Maud blamed herself. Clearly, she had asked too many questions and had become, as Aunt Emily accused her, “entirely too childish and dreamy.”
One Sunday at church, Aunt Emily abandoned Maud to be with her friends—that was when her aunt had met John Malcolm Montgomery. Later, when Aunt Emily returned home, Grandma and Grandfather chastised her for shirking her duty, but she fought back, and that was when John Malcolm properly started courting.
Sometimes Maud was told to accompany them, which only angered her aunt even more. And when Maud begged her aunt to take her when she got married, the answer was a resounding no. “You aren’t my duty anymore,” Aunt Emily had said on the morning of the wedding. “I’ve honored Clara’s memory enough, and it’s someone else’s turn.”
That was when Maud had turned to her favorite authors, finding solace in books and words. She kept her diary close and wrote about her loneliness, wondering what made her aunt hate her so much. Those few months at her aunt’s two years ago had been no different. She still felt like a burden.