September 12th, 1899
Dearest Diana,
I hope you can forgive the more friendly salutation, but I heard Anne call you that once and it seemed apt. You’re the woman who has saved not just my heart, but Anne’s heart along with our wonderful, beautiful future together. And that leads me to the purpose of this letter: Thank you. Thank you, thank you, thank you.
Your words were what put me in motion, wasting precious few seconds as I sprinted through the familiar streets of Charlottetown with just one thought running through my mind: Anne loves me. Even now, I can’t quite get your voice out of my head, your conviction and utter betrayal on her behalf, as you listed all my sins from this summer. Yes, sins, for I not only wronged Miss Rose in my botched-up understanding of our time together, but I also wronged my Anne with an e. If you were irate with me, it must have been for good reason. With some time to think over what you said, I shudder at the implication of the ferocity of your response. How often did Anne cry because of me? How many times did she curse my name? How much did I hurt that beautiful soul? And you were there to witness it all and had the grace to keep it bottled until the last possible second.
Thank you for airing your grievances when you did. I deserve much more than the sharp tongue of Diana Barry and will do my utmost to remain in your good graces.
I must admit I did not hear much after you explained Anne’s letter. I’m surprised I even remembered the address of the boarding house! I apologize for running off in such an affected state (and forcing your father to grab my belongings—thank him again for me!), but as you might imagine I had more important things on my mind. My mission was successful, as you know. You saw how our encounter ended, and I can assume Anne has already filled you in on the details you had missed. Suffice it to say, whether it was God’s Hand or Lady Fate that pushed Anne out the door the second I arrived at the porch, it was you, Diana Barry, who sent me running there in the first place.
Thank you. Again.
It seems miscommunication is the source of the pain both Anne and I felt this summer. I intend to rectify that by sending her as many letters as possible (as she may have told you, I have already started). While I may not be as good with words as she is, I will write a thousand letters if that is what it takes to convince her to forgive me for how I inadvertently hurt her.
But for you, I will be blunt: I love Anne and I will never hurt her again.
(While I never said as much in the moment, now that I am several hours away from you I would like to confirm that yes, I have indeed been smitten with Anne ever since the slate incident. How you figured that out is beyond me!)
If you can also remind/thank your father for his continued discretion, I would greatly appreciate it. Though Mrs. Lynde he is not, I would still rather not be 1,000 miles away when the news of our relationship breaks and leave Anne to face the gossips on her own.
And I know she doesn’t need to be looked after, but I trust you’ll keep our (our!) Anne out of mischief…or at least try to keep her from holding a protest until I can be there next to her!
With my sincerest thanks once more,
Your friend,
Gilbert
P. S. I hope Queen’s is going well for you so far. You are bright, Diana. Take advantage of your education and enjoy yourself!