The following few days were dark ones for Pam. She supposed it would cause a scandal in the small-town world of Avonlea if word got out that she had refused Jim Blythe after apparently flirting with him for years. Pam didn't know how she could be accused of flirting when she'd had no intention of ever doing so, but she supposed this was one of the unfair aspects of life. She knew for certain that she wanted to stay out of the realm of the town gossips, having been fodder for them since she had arrived in town several years previously.

Phyllis and Bob privately thought that Pam was nervous and anxious about moving to college, and therefore did not pry. She didn't discuss what had happened with Phyllis, for though Phyllis was a very sympathetic person, she liked Jim very much, and Pam was ashamed of how she had treated him. Instead, Pam decided to speak to Kelly, and fortunately, she was able to see her the day after the party.

They decided to walk around the orchard in the crisp air. Kelly waxed rhapsodic about the party for several moments before noticing how quiet Pam was. "What's wrong?" she asked, concernedly slipping an arm around Pam's waist.

The sweet gesture broke the dam in Pam's heart, and tears slipped down her cheeks. "I've ruined everything, I don't know why he had to go and say something like that to me," she babbled, and for once, Kelly wasn't oblivious to meaning. "Pam, do you mean to say you've gone and turned down Jim Blythe?" she asked, and Pam nodded miserably.

"You dear little goose, why would you do something like that?" asked Kelly, and Pam shook her head. "Because I don't love him, he's a dear friend but nothing more," she said, wiping her face with her handkerchief and stuffing it back into her apron pocket. "Why won't anyone believe that?"

"Pam, you've spent all these years with him, and everyone could plainly see that you two belonged together. That's why I never chased him," said Kelly, squeezing her.

"But we were only ever good friends, I never meant him to think any more of it," said Pam anxiously. "I'm not in love with him."

"Pam, sometimes I wonder if you've made falling in love out to be something more than it is. Maybe it just grows out of friendship. When Ryan and I fell in love, it just happened. There were no bells and whistles," said Kelly, and Pam was relieved that there was not a trace of smugness in her tone, for she couldn't have borne it if Kelly condescended to her at a time like this.

"But I know I'm not in love with Jim," protested Pam, "Isn't it enough that I know it myself?"

"I suppose," said Kelly skeptically, and Pam's heart sank. For all she loved Kelly, sometimes Kelly just didn't understand her. With a pang, Pam realized that the one who would best understand how she felt, who always understood how she felt, was Jim, and she certainly would never be able to talk to him about this. She'd be lucky if he ever spoke to her again, and the thought of a world without Jim made the tears fall again. Kelly gave her another comforting squeeze, and they continued their walk until Pam calmed down.

"Perhaps a change of scenery will do you good," offered Kelly. "Oh, but I'll miss you most of all," said Pam, and Kelly hugged her. "Silly girl, we'll write letters all day. Goodness knows, I won't be living an exciting life here. And you'll come home on the weekends, and you'll meet that tall, dark stranger and I'll be terribly jealous and I shan't speak to you ever again until I steal him from you," said Kelly, and Pam laughed. She did love that Kelly could always make her feel better.

*

The following Tuesday dawned bright and sunny, which was contrary to Pam's mood. She felt it ought to be cloudy and rainy, feeling that way inside. Her school trunk was packed twice over; Phyllis had wanted to make sure Pam had everything she needed. Her dresses were all starched and pressed, and Phyllis had sewn bloomers and petticoats out of cotton sheeting, so they'd be sturdy.

At the Avonlea depot, a small crowd had gathered to bid farewell to the autumnal crop of young folk beginning college. Bob helped a porter load Pam's trunk onto the train, and he gave Pam a bear hug. She hugged Phyllis, too, who clutched her tightly and said, "You were the best thing to happen to us, Pam, dear."

"Oh, I'll miss you both terribly," said Pam, not wanting to weep in public, but fearing that she might do so. "Now listen, don't get your feathers in a twirl, Pam'll be home for the weekend before you know it," said Bob, the lone voice of reason. Pam laughed, all the while conscientious of the fact that a certain person was not present at the depot.

Next to Bob and Phyllis stood Kelly, weeping copiously into a large handkerchief. Ryan stood next to her, looking troubled and uncomfortable.

"I'll just miss you-you all so terrrrriiibly," she sobbed. Pam hugged her tightly and then climbed onto the train with Meredith and Angela.

Meredith was nonplussed. "I can't wait to meet college boys," she said, "Aren't you excited, Angela?"

"No," said Angela sternly, but Pam, detecting a note of sadness in her voice, turned to see a solitary Dwighde Schrude standing solemnly with a cabbage rose in his buttonhole. She decided to let sleeping dogs lie, for when Angela looked like that, it was best not to vex her.

"Goodness, what is that dreadful Dwighde Schrude doing here?" said a voice, and Katy Pye plopped herself unceremoniously next to Meredith. "I'm glad he's not going to Queen's, aren't you girls?"

Angela's cheeks turned pink, and Pam placed her hand on top of Angela's, who shot her a look of gratitude. Was love mixed up for everyone?

*

Pam's boarding house transpired to be neat and clean, and the mistress was pleasant. Mrs. Lynde had located the most respectable boarding house in all of Queen's College, and Pam was grateful for her small room. It felt alien at first, lacking the comforts of home, but still, it was her own, and she rested comfortably on the bed for a few moments before unpacking. That helped a bit; with her clothes in the closet and her sketches on the desk, it felt a bit more like home.

She changed into a fresh shirtwaist with the inclination of taking a walk, and fortuitously, there was a knock on the door. Meredith, Angela and Katy piled in, greeting Pam as though they hadn't seen her just mere hours previously.

"Oh, dear, Pam, you haven't been crying, have you? Your face is all splotchy," said Katy, and Pam just smiled as kindly as she could. "I'm doing very well, Katy, just a slight head cold," she said, "Thanks for your concern."

"Pam, come along with us, we're going to walk to the Common," said Meredith, clutching her arm.

"Yes, college men are ever so much nicer to look at than old Avonlea boys," said Katy.

"I'm interested to learn about the student organizations and scholarship prizes," said Angela, ever the one to deflect talk of boys and men.

Pam agreed to go, and they set off toward the center of the Queen's campus. The sky was rolling with dark clouds; Pam thought wryly that she would have preferred this weather in the morning, when she felt upset.

"Goodness, you can always tell the freshies apart this first week. That girl's face looks positively like a beet!" said Katy. Next to Pam, Angela's face drained white. "Actually, " she said quietly," I think I'll be getting back. I need to rest."

There was a catch in her voice that neither Meredith nor Katy seemed to hear, but Pam looked questioningly at Angela. Angela gave her a small, sad smile and turned back toward her boarding house. Pam wondered what sort of secret Angela was keeping, and wondered if she herself looked like someone who had just broken Jim Blythe's heart three days previously. Would Meredith and Katy be able to see that on her face?

As though she could read Pam's thoughts, Katy suddenly slowed down and pointed. "Look, there's Jim Blythe. He certainly hasn't wasted any time," she said scornfully.

Feeling hollow, Pam looked ahead. It certainly was Jim, she could tell his lanky frame easily from everyone else's, and next to him, looking up and talking, was a girl with shining dark hair and olive skin. She was wearing a richly brocaded skirt and jacket that made Pam feel dull and dowdy in her brown tweed travelling suit and plain hat.

"Who is that?" asked Meredith and Katy answered at once. "That's Karen Stuart. Her family is big in oil, and she's summered at the White Sands Hotel before. She's living with a rich aunt and uncle here, so she doesn't have to live in a boarding house."

Pam's insides returned in the form of lead as she saw Jim and this Karen Stuart burst into laughter. It looked as though he had forgotten about her already. Her cheeks reddened as she realized that he was moving on and making other friends, ones who didn't look like a country bumpkin in homespun.

She couldn't bear to take one step closer to him, not if she couldn't talk with him in the old, bantering way they used to; too much had changed between them, and Pam couldn't face him right now, not with others around, especially beautiful, sophisticated ones who probably didn't sew their own clothes, or Katy Pye.

Miraculously, her brain was still working, and she feigned a sneezing fit into her handkerchief. "Girls, I think my wretched cold is acting up again. Phyllis told me to lie down with a hot water bottle, so I think I'll go do that," she said amid sneezes.

Katy Pye gave her an appraising look, complete with pursed lips as though she didn't believe Pam. "You seemed fine on the train," Katy said, and Meredith shot her a withering glance. "Leave her be, Katy, I see some cricket players up ahead.You know you love men in their cricket whites. Feel better, Pam!" said Meredith, pulling Katy away from Pam, who smiled gratefully.

Feeling the lightness of freedom, Pam headed back towards the boarding house. She turned south, however, when it became apparent that she couldn't bear the thought of sitting in her lonely little room. She headed for a green expanse that soon proved to be a beautiful park.

It was a comforting sight, trees and flowers and even a little stream, and Pam walked along it, not necessarily happy, but content that there was a slice of home so near her. She thought her room might be improved by some flowers, so she picked the wildflowers that grew along the stream and soon had an armful of blossoms.

She was so engrossed in her flower gathering that she hadn't noticed the sky growing darker, and it was only when thunder rumbled ominously and the first few spatters of an autumn rainstorm fell upon her did she look up. "Oh dear," she said to the flowers, and she began to walk as fast as she could, clutching her hat with one hand and trying not to lose any of her fragrant cargo.

Suddenly someone was next to her and the shadow of an umbrella covered her. "Here, let me help you," said the owner of the umbrella, and Pam peeked out from under her hat to see a young gentleman smiling down at her. He had brown hair and dark eyes that crinkled when he smiled, showing dimples in his cheeks.

"Oh, thank you," said Pam, keenly aware of how silly she must have looked. "I suppose I look ridiculous," she said lightly.

"Not at all, just in need of a good umbrella," said the young man, smiling again. "My name is Royal Gardner," he continued, transferring a large bundle from one arm to the other in an attempt to shake her hand.

"I'm Pamela Shirley," Pam answered, glancing involuntarily at the bundle. "My rugby uniform," he explained, "I'm trying to keep it dry."

"Well, I hope you're succeeding," said Pam, and Royal Gardner's dimples popped again.

"Please, won't you let me walk you to your home, Miss Shirley?" he asked, and Pam blushed. "Thank you, it's so kind of you, Mr. Gardner," she answered as they reached the edge of the park.

They walked a block in silence, Pam feeling nervous at not knowing what to say to a young man. She thought keenly that if it were Jim, she would have plenty to say. She pushed the thought back in her mind; Jim had spoken and she didn't agree, and their friendship was likely over. It was time to forget about him and move on. She smiled up at Royal Gardner as they crossed the cobbled street and was rewarded with one in return.

"This is my boarding house," she said, slowing down. "Ah, this is one of the very best in town," he said, "I live with my parents a few miles from here."

"It must have been interesting to live in a city," said Pam, and he nodded. "I enjoy it." He hesitated and then continued, "Miss Shirley, I don't mean to be forward, but I'd like to call on you if I may."

Pam blushed again. "You may," she said, and feeling bold, added, "I've never seen a rugby match before."

"Well, we'll have to change that," he said, dark eyes crinkling at the corners.

"Thank you for the use of the umbrella, Mr. Gardner, I do appreciate it," she said, and he held up a hand. "Please, do call me Roy. Mr. Gardner sounds like my father."

Pam laughed a Kelly-like laugh. "Then you must call me Pam," she said, and he tipped his hat.

"I shall, Pam. May I?" He indicated her bouquet, and when she nodded, he plucked a sprig and placed it in his buttonhole.

With one last smile, she entered the boarding house and hurried up the stairs. She thought she'd write a letter to Kelly, hugging her flowers to herself. How intriguing to meet a tall, dark stranger on the first day at college! She thought perhaps she might not be so miserable after all.