It had been seven years since we last saw Ingleside, full of bubbly and playful children who played in Rainbow Valley. Echoes of laughter could be heard, boys making wild animal noises, small girls giggling and chatting near the garden picking flowers. A happy family of six children and two happy parents along-with old Susan Baker as well-were sound asleep, safe and well.

The warm bright sun arose, brightening up Glen St Mary to an early start to the day. It had been a damp night for Rainbow Valley, as it had small water droplets glistening in the wet grass. The flowers opened up their buds for the first spring morning of the year, just in time. Somewhere in the valley, the mayflowers waved to the sun gaily. The weather had been kind to them, and now they bloomed more beautifully than ever, waiting for a certain small boy to pick them. He was to pick them every spring-as promised long before-but he was not a small boy, and hardly a boy any longer. Childhood had vanished for him-for all of them-and now young adults replaced the small cheerful faces that had once roamed Rainbow Valley.

A small robin cocked it's head and looked around perkily, as if looking for something. He ruffled his feathers and flew to the window of Ingleside. The robin looked around once more, as if to see if he had made the right choice in staying there, and then he sang. The sweet spring song was sung upon the small window of the girl's room.

Two beds lay in the room, two damsels slept their sweet slumber peacefully. Upon one bed laid the beautiful Anne Blythe, flowing brown hair framed her lovely ivory face, whose high saucy chin had led to mean folks saying she was "stuck up" and too proud to associate with any other ordinary people. Scornful as she was, Nan was very loyal to her siblings, especially to her twin. Different as they were, if any two had a stronger relationship than any other sibling. The second bed was occupied by the other twin, Diana. Red, damp curls lay on the pillow, her long lashes fanned her cheek, that sweet-lipped mouth was twisted into a charming smile of one who knew many hidden secrets and hinted the practical common sense inherited from her father. People often misjudged her as being "too sensible" and "practical" but she was the daughter of Anne Shirley, and no daughter of Anne Shirley would be named "sensible" all her life! At the sound of the robin's song, Di's eyes opened suddenly and they fell upon the robin. She smiled at it as she got up steadily.

"Good morning, ah-and you must be much more excited that it is spring than I ever was," she said softy. It cocked it's head up and down before flying off back to Rainbow Valley. She gave a little laugh.

"Goodness, I will take that as a yes," Peering over at her sisters bed, Di got up and raised her eyebrow. Was that Nan sleeping and breathing very heavily. Had she not said that she was to wake up bright and early for the beginning of the beautiful season. Well you could never rely on Nan to wake up. She, of all people, should've known that.

Di crept over slowly and quietly "Oh Nan," she crooned gently. "Nan," she giggled as Nan covered her head with the bed sheets. "Waking time, honey. Nan-" The door flung open and Di whipped her head around.

"Wake up Nan, wake up Di!" boomed Jem loudly as he entered the girl's room. Di shrieked as he almost knocked her over, Nan got up and threw her pillow at him before presuming sleeping. Jem scolded.

"Well, you don't need to be the sour-puss today, I come in all friendly and happy and I get a pillow thrown at me," he muttered angrily picking up the pillow off the ground. Nan secreted a satisfied smile to herself under the doona.

"Oh-ho friendly?" said Di rubbing her forehead. "What a nice way to start off spring. Now that we are awake,"-Nan remained in her position-"I suppose we shall go down. And you are awake now, honey, so get up."

Downstairs where the sweet aroma of breakfast drifted around, Susan Baker was already up and ready having produced a large plateful of pancakes. She placed it onto the middle of the tables with triumph as her new recipe had succeeded marvellously. Dear Susan, with her kind cheerful eyes and knack at cooking. Susan waited patiently for the Blythes to arrive, hoping that they would taste it before it got cold.

"Oh what a splendid smell," said Nan sighing as they came down. "Can you smell it, Di?"

Having a nose, Di could.

"It is beautiful," agreed Di. "Lets get the first tastes."

Susan brightened up at the sight of the twins. "Oh yes come and try it, dears." Nan sat herself beside Di and took her offering.

"They look so golden and delicious," murmured Di. "You must teach me how to make it." Her green eyes looked admiringly upon Susan.

Susan gave a big smile having her dish being approved of. "Where are the others?" she asked as the table was surround by empty chairs.

"Jem gone about waking everyone up," said Nan irritably recalling the wake up call she witnessed herself.

"We found that out the hard way," added Di laughing under her breath. "And he must have woken you up Rilla, good morning."

Rilla yawned. "G'morning, of course he did. You don't see me gadding about in the mornings, do you?" Her big hazel eyes fell upon the golden-brown breakfast at the centre of the table. "And aren't I hungry! Oh Susan, do let me try a-piece, ah thank-you"

"I can see that you really are starving," said Di smiling at Rilla as she scoffed the pancake on whole. Two brown eyes gave her an older-sister scolding.

"Rilla that's very unladylike," said Nan sternly as she looked upon her little sister disapprovingly. Maybe Rilla was unladylike, but one thing was certain she was the frivolous of the lot. She really was turning out to be pretty, too. She had streams of ruddy-brown hair and two hazel eyes peering excitedly at a new beginning lurking in every corner. She was vain, very vain, and everybody knew it well that Rilla Blythe had taken notion with vanity. "But she has every right to be vain, with looks like hers," Susan had said in her defence. Rilla hated the fact that she was indeed the "baby" of the family and that she was not aloud to go out to parties like Nan and Di. However, she respected Di for the fact that she did not call her a "baby" and did not scold her for the tiniest things, much like Nan. Di was kindly to her, as a result of the influence from Walter, and treated her the way she would treat any other chum. Rilla reflected, looking at the twinkle in her older red-headed sister's eyes, that she was nice, even if she wasn't as pretty as Nan.

"It is my choice whether I want to be a proper lady or not, not yours," said Rilla under her breath with a childish smile to her lips. Nan rolled her eyes.

"Well the Johnsons only want ladies attending their party, I suppose,"-said Nan with a sharp eye at Rilla "I suppose you don't want to go,"

Rilla pursed her lips tightly and said no more. How horrible it was to the youngest, everyone knew how to annoy you. She looked at Di pleadingly.

"I am awful sorry, Rilla, but Nan is right. Mother would never let you go to such a party," said Di. Rilla gave such a look that it was as if she was scolding her pancakes. Who cared about a party, anyways?