Now I know that I just dreamed a pleasant dream of happiness.

THIS is the reality." "You mustn't talk, Anne--wait till you're stronger," said Marilla warningly.
"You know how hard it is for me NOT to talk," smiled Anne.
At first she was too weak and too happy to notice that Gilbert and the nurse looked grave and Marilla sorrowful.

Then, as subtly, and coldly, and remorselessly as a sea-fog stealing landward, fear crept into her heart.

Why was not Gilbert gladder?
Why would he not talk about the baby?
Why would they not let her have it with her after that first heavenly--happy hour?
Was--was there anything wrong?
"Gilbert," whispered Anne imploringly, "the baby--is all right--isn't she?
Tell me--tell me." Gilbert was a long while in turning round; then he bent over Anne and looked in her eyes.

Marilla, listening fearfully outside the door, heard a pitiful, heartbroken moan, and fled to the kitchen where Susan was weeping.
"Oh, the poor lamb--the poor lamb! How can she bear it, Miss Cuthbert?
I am afraid it will kill her.