Anne Shirley and Philippa Gordon's friendship

Anne Shirley and Philippa Gordon’s friendship joins two very different temperaments without requiring either to become the other. It begins when Philippa’s open, teasing sociability breaks through Anne’s and Priscilla Grant’s first-day unease at Redmond, and grows into a bond that is at once affectionate and quietly influential: Philippa brings Anne into college society, while Anne’s opinion helps Philippa imagine becoming wiser and stronger.

Meeting and First Impressions

The friendship starts at Old St. John’s Cemetery, where Anne and Priscilla approach Philippa as she sits beneath a willow. Philippa’s polished clothes and distinctive beauty sharpen the newcomers’ awareness of their own country-made hats and clothes; for a moment, both consider turning back. Philippa instead springs up with an outstretched hand and an eager smile. Her immediate friendliness makes the social distance they had imagined feel less important, and her laughter at Redmond’s alarming first day gives the three young women an easy point of connection.

Philippa quickly tells them she has struggled to decide whether to approach them, but insists that shyness is not among her failings. She invites Anne and Priscilla to use her familiar short name and asks what they are called. Her candor turns an introduction into an act of deliberate intimacy: Philippa presents indecision and indiscretion not as secrets to conceal but as parts of herself her new friends may know. She even describes spending half an hour choosing a hat to visit a graveyard, finally deciding by closing her eyes and stabbing at the two hats with a pin. The anecdote makes her seem delightfully unguarded, and Anne and Priscilla laugh with her rather than at her.

When Philippa asks whether she is pretty, Anne answers that she and Priscilla had already thought her the prettiest girl they saw at Redmond. Philippa admits that she wants another person’s judgment to steady her own shifting opinion. She asks them to reassure her from time to time, explaining that a great-aunt’s repeated comparison with her former childhood beauty has unsettled her. The exchange exposes a more vulnerable note beneath her comic self-display: she is confident enough to solicit praise, yet uncertain enough to need it. Anne responds warmly, while Philippa offers to return the favor, making their first compliments reciprocal rather than competitive.

Philippa says she has felt painfully homesick since arriving in Kingsport, where she feels like nobody despite her importance at home in Bolingbroke. She also tells Anne and Priscilla that she expects to enjoy having many beaux at college. Anne initially finds this frivolity off-putting, and the visit is nearly over when she says it is late and she has work to do. Philippa puts an arm around each of them and asks them to visit her and let her visit them. Anne answers her embrace and reassures her that she has not entirely disgusted them. The physical gesture and Anne’s returning warmth mark the change from wary first impressions to an actual invitation into friendship.

Affection, Difference, and Influence

After Philippa leaves, Anne explains why her talk of beaux amuses rather than irritates her. In Anne’s view, Ruby Gillis treats love and admirers as a conscious performance, sometimes using them to make other girls feel outnumbered. Philippa, by contrast, regards young men more as playmates and enjoys being popular. Anne does not confuse Philippa’s lightness with depthlessness: she calls her lovable and suspects that she is not as silly as she sounds. This early interpretation becomes a key to their friendship. Anne can recognize Philippa’s frivolity without reducing her to it.

Philippa’s social position soon affects Anne’s college experience. The daughter of a rich, well-known man and a member of an old, exclusive Bluenose family, Philippa is readily welcomed into Redmond’s cliques, clubs, and classes. Anne and Priscilla are welcomed along with her. Philippa’s affection for them carries no evident snobbery; she treats her friends as part of her own circle, so their social path becomes easier than that of freshmen without her sponsorship. The friendship therefore changes Anne’s circumstances in a concrete way, not merely her mood: Philippa’s popularity opens doors that would otherwise remain harder to reach.

Their closeness does not depend on Philippa being only a social guide. She has callers and admirers in abundance, and gleefully tells Anne and Priscilla about each new conquest, but she also holds her own in every class. She manages to keep pace even with a mathematics professor who opposes women’s admission to Redmond; Anne, meanwhile, surpasses her in English. Philippa’s ability makes the image of an unserious, kitten-like girl incomplete. Her friendship with Anne includes teasing and entertainment, but also the daily company of two capable students whose strengths differ.

The contrast becomes most revealing when Philippa confides that the man she likes best, Gilbert Blythe, pays little attention to her. She playfully blames Anne, whom she loves and misses when they do not meet every day. More seriously, Philippa says Anne’s way of looking at her makes her feel insignificant and frivolous, and makes her long to become better, wiser, and stronger. She forms good resolutions, though the next attractive man may distract her from them. Anne receives this mixture of admiration and self-mockery with affection, calling Philippa a lovable kitten while wondering how she finds time for her lessons. The joke does not erase the confession: Anne has become a moral point of reference for Philippa, even though she does not demand that Philippa abandon her playful nature.

College Companionship and a Shared Home

The friendship has helped Philippa revise her first impression of college. She once wished she had stayed home and married rather than endure Redmond’s difficult opening day. Later, she recognizes that if she had not hated that first day, she might never have become truly acquainted with Anne. College’s value for her is therefore bound up with this particular relationship: the institution she initially resisted is also the place where she finds a friend she loves and trusts.

That intimacy is expressed again when Anne tells Philippa that she and Priscilla have rented Patty’s Place for the coming winter. They will live there rather than board, with Stella Maynard coming and her aunt keeping house. Philippa immediately begs to join them, even offering to sleep in the little doghouse in the orchard if there is no room. Anne and Priscilla cannot promise until they have consulted Stella, but Anne says that, as far as they are concerned, Philippa is welcome. Priscilla adds that Philippa can leave if she tires of their simple life. Philippa responds by hugging them both jubilantly.

For Anne, Philippa seems likely to fit into the proposed household because she is not selfish, though she can be thoughtless; the friends expect that everyone will need to live sensibly and let one another live. The exchange extends their friendship from the social world of college into the practical prospect of sharing a home. Philippa’s pleading also echoes the frankness that began their relationship: she does not disguise how much she wants to be included, and Anne answers with warmth while keeping the decision open until Stella has been consulted.

The Friendship’s Character

Anne and Philippa’s bond is built on an affectionate tolerance for difference. Anne takes Philippa’s vanity, indecision, and enthusiasm for beaux as comic traits rather than proof of bad character; Philippa, in turn, admires Anne without making that admiration a condition of perfect seriousness. Their teasing allows affection to coexist with honest perception. Anne can call Philippa frivolous and still recognize her kindness and intelligence; Philippa can admit that Anne’s standards make her feel inadequate while continuing to seek her company and approval.

The relationship also makes friendship a form of belonging. Philippa is homesick in Kingsport, while Anne has begun to feel transplanted there; meeting at Old St. John’s gives both a personal connection to a place that had initially seemed unfamiliar. Philippa’s social reach helps Anne enter Redmond’s wider world, and Anne’s steady affection offers Philippa something beyond popularity and the attention of admirers. By the time Philippa asks to join the Patty’s Place household, the friendship has moved from an impulsive greeting to a dependable promise of welcome—one that makes room for Philippa’s exuberance without pretending that living together will require no adjustment.