The Blythes had taken her to please Rilla who was
fathoms deep in love with her teacher and was even willing to share her
room, since no other was available. Gertrude Oliver was twenty-eight and
life had been a struggle for her. She was a striking-looking girl, with
rather sad, almond-shaped brown eyes, a clever, rather mocking mouth,
and enormous masses of black hair twisted about her head. She was not
pretty but there was a certain charm of interest and mystery in her
face, and Rilla found her fascinating. Even her occasional moods of
gloom and cynicism had allurement for Rilla. These moods came only when
Miss Oliver was tired. At all other times she was a stimulating
companion, and the gay set at Ingleside never remembered that she was so
much older than themselves. Walter and Rilla were her favourites and she
was the confidante of the secret wishes and aspirations of both. She
knew that Rilla longed to be "out"--to go to parties as Nan and Di did,
and to have dainty evening dresses and--yes, there is no mincing
matters--beaux! In the plural, at that! As for Walter, Miss Oliver knew
that he had written a sequence of sonnets "to Rosamond"--i.e., Faith
Meredith--and that he aimed at a Professorship of English literature in
some big college. She knew his passionate love of beauty and his equally
passionate hatred of ugliness; she knew his strength and his weakness.
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