"I'm not going back to Redmond after the winter break," said Moody. "I spoke to your mother and father. They agreed that, if, if, possible, we could move the wedding date forward."
"What?" Ruby gasped, struggling to get up from her lying position in the hammock. The whitework she was embroidering fell to the ground. "Why don't you come back? Moody, you only have a little more to finish!"
Moody looked at her, hesitated, and took her thin, pale hand. Her engagement sapphire ring looked terribly loose and striking. He wanted nothing less than a diamond for her and had saved up years for it, but when the time came, she said she had always longed for sapphires. Everyone says we Gillis girls love fancy things, but they often mistake us for lavish jewelry too, but it's the Bells!
"Ruby, if we get married next summer—" Moody couldn't finish the rest of the sentence. He felt like crying now. He had done more than enough in his boarding house room; Gilbert was the one who diligently reminded him to change his wet pillow sheets at night. It almost felt wrong to grieve for something that hadn't happened, to mourn the girl who wasn't his wife yet, but Moody's tears had a will and a mind of their own, so be it.
But Ruby pulled her hand away from his like it was on fire and looked at him as if he betrayed her. Her voice sharpened. "You won't do it."
(Ruby’s trousseau had twenty kerchiefs, and half of them had M.S. monograms. They didn't know if she would live long enough to use them now.)