the circle. "Come, everybody."
They went back with laughter and raillery over the
quiet autumn fields, faintly silvered now by the moon
that was rising over the hills. The young bride and
groom lagged behind; they were very happy, but they
were not so happy, after all, as the old bride and
groom who walked swiftly in front. Isabella's hand was
in her husband's and sometimes she could not see the
moonlit hills for a mist of glorified tears.
"David," she whispered, as he helped her over the
fence, "how can you ever forgive me?"
"There's nothing to forgive," he said. "We're only just
married. Who ever heard of a bridegroom talking of
forgiveness? Everything is beginning over new for us,
my girl."
Chapter IV
Jane's Baby
MISS ROSETTA ELLIS, with her front hair in curl-papers,
and her back hair bound with a checked apron, was out
in her breezy side yard under the firs, shaking her
parlor rugs, when Mr. Nathan Patterson drove in. Miss
Rosetta had seen him coming down the long red hill, but
she had not supposed he would be calling at that time
of the morning. So she had not run. Miss Rosetta always
ran if anybody called and her front hair was in curl-
papers; and, though the errand of the said caller might
be life or death, he or she had to wait until Miss
Rosetta had taken her hair out. Everybody in Avonlea
knew this, because everybody in Avonlea knew everything
about everybody else.
But Mr. Patterson had wheeled into the lane so quickly
and unexpectedly that Miss Rosetta had had no time to
run; so, twitching off the checked apron, she stood her
ground as calmly as might be under the disagreeable
consciousness of curl-papers.
"Good morning, Miss Ellis," said Mr. Patterson, so
somberly that Miss Rosetta instantly felt that he was
the bearer of bad news. Usually Mr. Patterson's face
was as broad and beaming as a harvest moon. Now his
expression was very melancholy and his voice positively
sepulchral.
"Good morning," returned Miss Rosetta, crisply and
cheerfully. She, at any rate, would not go into eclipse
until she knew the reason therefor. "It is a fine day."
"A very fine day," assented Mr. Patterson, solemnly. "I
have just come from the Wheeler place, Miss Ellis, and
I regret to say - "
"Charlotte is sick!" cried Miss Rosetta, rapidly.
"Charlotte has got another spell with her heart! I knew
it! I've been expecting to hear it! Any woman that
drives about the country as much as she does is liable
to heart disease at any moment. I never go outside of
my gate but I meet her gadding off somewhere. Goodness
knows who looks after her place. I shouldn't like to
trust as much to a hired man as she does. Well, it is
very kind of you, Mr. Patterson, to put yourself out to
the extent of calling to tell me that Charlotte is
sick, but I don't really see why you should take so
much trouble - I really don't. It doesn't matter to me
whether Charlotte is sick or whether she isn't. You
know that perfectly well, Mr. Patterson, if anybody
does. When Charlotte went and got married, on the sly,
to that good-for-nothing Jacob Wheeler - "
"Mrs. Wheeler is quite well," interrupted Mr. Patterson
desperately. "Quite well. Nothing at all the matter
with her, in fact. I only - "
"Then what do you mean by coming here and telling me
she wasn't, and frightening me half to death?" demanded
Miss Rosetta, indignantly. "My own heart isn't very
strong - it runs in our family - and my doctor warned
me to avoid all shocks and excitement. I don't want to
be excited, Mr. Patterson. I won't be excited, not even
if Charlotte has another spell. It's perfectly useless
for you to try to excite me, Mr. Patterson."
"Bless the woman, I'm not trying to excite anybody!"
declared Mr. Patterson in exasperation. "I merely
called to tell you - "
"To tell me what ?" said Miss Rosetta. "How much longer
do you mean to keep me in suspense, Mr. Patterson. No
doubt you have abundance of spare time, but - I - have
not."
" - that your sister, Mrs. Wheeler, has had a letter
from a cousin of yours, and she's in Charlottetown.
Mrs. Roberts, I think her name is - "
"Jane Roberts," broke in Miss Rosetta. "Jane Ellis she
was, before she was married. What was she writing to
Charlotte about? Not that I want to know, of course.
I'm not interested in Charlotte's correspondence,
goodness knows. But if Jane had anything in particular
to write about she should have written to me. I am the
oldest. Charlotte had no business to get a letter from
Jane Roberts without consulting me. It's just like her
underhanded ways. She got married the same way. Never
said a word to me about it, but just sneaked off with
that unprincipled Jacob Wheeler - "
"Mrs. Roberts is very ill. I understand," persisted Mr.
Patterson, nobly resolved to do what he had come to do,
"dying, in fact, and - "
"Jane ill! Jane dying!" exclaimed Miss Rosetta. "Why,
she was the healthiest girl I ever knew! But then I've
never seen her, nor heard from her, since she got
married fifteen years ago. I dare say her husband was a
brute and neglected her, and she's pined away by slow
degrees. I've no faith in husbands. Look at Charlotte!
Everybody knows how Jacob Wheeler used her. To be sure,
she deserved it, but - "
"Mrs. Roberts' husband is dead," said Mr. Patterson.
"Died about two months ago, I understand, and she has a
little baby six months old, and she thought perhaps
Mrs. Wheeler would take it for old times' sake - "
"Did Charlotte ask you to call and tell me this?"
demanded Miss Rosetta eagerly.
"No; she just told me what was in the letter. She
didn't mention you; but I thought, perhaps, you ought
to be told - "
"I knew it," said Miss Rosetta in a tone of bitter
assurance. "I could have told you so. Charlotte
wouldn't even let me know that Jane was ill. Charlotte
would be afraid I would want to get the baby, seeing
that Jane and I were such intimate friends long ago.
And who has a better right to it than me, I should like
to know? Ain't I the oldest? And haven't I had
experience in bringing up babies? Charlotte needn't
think she is going to run the affairs of our family
just because she happened to get married. Jacob Wheeler
- "
"I must be going," said Mr. Patterson, gathering up his
reins thankfully.
"I am much obliged to you for coming to tell me about
Jane," said Miss Rosetta, "even though you have wasted
a lot of precious time getting it out. If it hadn't
been for you I suppose
I should never have known it at
all. As it is, I shall start for town just as soon as I
can get ready."
"You'll have to hurry if you want to get ahead of Mrs.
Wheeler," advised Mr. Patterson. "She's packing her
trunk and going on the morning train."
"I'll pack a valise and go on the afternoon train,"
retorted Miss Rosetta triumphantly. "I'll show
Charlotte she isn't running the Ellis affairs. She
married out of them into the Wheelers. She can attend
to them. Jacob Wheeler was the most - "
But Mr. Patterson had driven away. He felt that he had
done his duty in the face of fearful odds, and he did
not want to hear anything more about Jacob Wheeler.
Rosetta Ellis and Charlotte Wheeler had not exchanged a
word for ten years. Before that time they had been
devoted to each other, living together in the little
Ellis cottage on the White Sands road, as they had done
ever since their parents' death. The trouble began when
Jacob Wheeler had commenced to pay attention to
Charlotte, the younger and prettier of two women who
had both ceased to be either very young or very pretty.
Rosetta had been bitterly opposed to the match from the
first. She vowed she had no use for Jacob Wheeler.
There were not lacking malicious people to hint that
this was because the aforesaid Jacob Wheeler had
selected the wrong sister upon whom to bestow his
affections. Be that as it might, Miss Rosetta certainly
continued to render the course of Jacob Wheeler's true
love exceedingly rough and tumultuous. The end of it
was that Charlotte had gone quietly away one morning
and married Jacob Wheeler without Miss Rosetta's
knowing anything about it. Miss Rosetta had never
forgiven her for it, and Charlotte had never forgiven
the things Rosetta had said to her when she and Jacob
returned to the Ellis cottage. Since then the sisters
had been avowed and open foes, the only difference
being that Miss Rosetta aired her grievances publicly,
in season and out of season, while Charlotte was never
heard to mention Rosetta's name. Even the death of
Jacob Wheeler, five years after the marriage, had not
healed the breach.
Miss Rosetta took out her curl-papers, packed her
valise, and caught the late afternoon train for
Charlottetown, as she had threatened. All the way there
she sat rigidly upright in her seat and held imaginary
dialogues with Charlotte in her mind, running something
like this on her part: -
"No, Charlotte Wheeler, you are not going to have
Jane's baby, and you're very much mistaken if you think
so. Oh, all right - we'll see! You don't know anything
about babies, even if you are married. I do. Didn't I
take William Ellis's baby, when his wife died? Tell me
that, Charlotte Wheeler! And didn't the little thing
thrive with me, and grow strong and healthy? Yes, even
you have to admit that it did, Charlotte Wheeler. And
yet you have the presumption to think that you ought to
have Jane's baby! Yes, it is presumption, Charlotte
Wheeler. And when William Ellis got married again, and
took the baby, didn't the child cling to me and cry as
if I was its real mother? You know it did, Charlotte
Wheeler. I'm going to get and keep Jane's baby in spite
of you, Charlotte Wheeler, and I'd like to see you try
to prevent me - you that went and got married and never
so much as let your own sister know of it! If I had got
married in such a fashion, Charlotte Wheeler, I'd be
ashamed to look anybody in the face for the rest of my
natural life!"
Miss Rosetta was so interested in thus laying down the
law to Charlotte, and in planning out the future life
of Jane's baby, that she didn't find the journey to
Charlottetown so long or tedious as might have been
expected, considering her haste. She soon found her way
to the house where her cousin lived. There, to her
dismay and real sorrow, she learned that Mrs. Roberts
had died at four o'clock that afternoon.
"She seemed dreadful anxious to live until she heard
from some of her folks out in Avonlea," said the woman
who gave Miss Rosetta the information. "She had written
to them about her little girl. She was my sister-in-
law, and she lived with me ever since her husband died.
I've done my best for her; but I've a big family of my
own and I can't see how I'm to keep the child. Poor
Jane looked and longed for some one to come from
Avonlea, but she couldn't hold out. A patient,
suffering creature she was!"
"I'm her cousin," said Miss Rosetta, wiping her eyes,
"and I have come for the baby. I'll take it home with
me after the funeral; and, if you please, Mrs. Gordon,
let me see it right away, so it can get accustomed to
me. Poor Jane! I wish I could have got here in time to
see her, she and I were such friends long ago. We were
far more intimate and confidential than ever her and
Charlotte was. Charlotte knows that, too!"
The vim with which Miss Rosetta snapped this out rather
amazed Mrs. Gordon, who couldn't understand it at all.
But she took Miss Rosetta upstairs to the room where
the baby was sleeping.
"Oh, the little darling," cried Miss Rosetta, all her
old maidishness and oddity falling away from her like a
garment, and all her innate and denied motherhood
shining out in her face like a transforming
illumination. "Oh, the sweet, dear, pretty little
thing!"
The baby was a darling - a six-months' old beauty with
little golden ringlets curling and glistening all over
its tiny head. As Miss Rosetta hung over it, it opened
its eyes and then held out its tiny hands to her with a
gurgle of confidence.
"Oh, you sweetest!" said Miss Rosetta rapturously,
gathering it up in her arms. "You belong to me, darling
- never, never, to that under-handed Charlotte! What is
its name, Mrs. Gordon?"
"It wasn't named," said Mrs. Gordon. "Guess you'll have
to name it yourself, Miss Ellis."
"Camilla Jane," said Miss Rosetta without a moment's
hesitation. "Jane after its mother, of course; and I
have always thought Camilla the prettiest name in the
world. Charlotte would be sure to give it some
perfectly heathenish name. I wouldn't put it past her
calling the poor innocent Mehitable."
Miss Rosetta decided to stay in Charlottetown until
after the funeral. That night she lay with the baby on
her arm, listening with joy to its soft little
breathing. She did not sleep or wish to sleep. Her
waking fancies were more alluring than any visions of
dreamland. Moreover, she gave a spice to them by
occasionally snapping some vicious sentences out loud
at Charlotte.
following morning and girded herself for the fray; but
no Charlotte appeared. Night came; no Charlotte.
Another morning and no Charlotte. Miss Rosetta was
hopelessly puzzled. What had happened? Dear, dear, had
Charlotte taken a bad heart spell, on hearing that she,
Rosetta, had stolen a march on her to Charlottetown? It
was quite likely. You never knew what to expect of a
woman who had married Jacob Wheeler!
The truth was, that the very evening Miss Rosetta had
left Avonlea Mrs. Jacob Wheeler's hired man had broken
his leg and had had to be conveyed to his distant home on
a feather bed in an express wagon. Mrs. Wheeler could not
leave home until she had obtained another hired man.
Consequently, it was the evening after the funeral when Mrs.
Wheeler whisked up the steps of the Gordon house and met
Miss Rosetta coming out with a big white bundle in her arms.
The eyes of the two women met defiantly. Miss Rosetta's
face wore an air of triumph, chastened by a remembrance
of the funeral that afternoon. Mrs. Wheeler's face,
except for eyes, was as expressionless as it usually
was. Unlike the tall, fair, fat Miss Rosetta, Mrs.
Wheeler was small and dark and thin, with an eager,
careworn face.
"How is Jane?" she said abruptly, breaking the silence
of ten years in saying it.
"Jane is dead and buried, poor thing," said Miss
Rosetta calmly. "I am taking her baby, little Camilla
Jane, home with me."
"The baby belongs to me," cried Mrs. Wheeler
passionately. "Jane wrote to me about her. Jane meant
that I should have her. I've come for her."
"You'll go back without her then," said Miss Rosetta,
serene in the possession that is nine points of the
law. "The child is mine, and she is going to stay mine.
You can make up your mind to that, Charlotte Wheeler. A
woman who eloped to get married isn't fit to be trusted
with a baby, anyhow. Jacob Wheeler - "
But Mrs. Wheeler had rushed past into the house. Miss
Rosetta composedly stepped into the cab and drove to
the station. She fairly bridled with triumph; and
underneath the triumph ran a queer undercurrent of
satisfaction over the fact that Charlotte had spoken to
her at last. Miss Rosetta would not look at this
satisfaction, or give it a name, but it was there.
Miss Rosetta arrived safely back in Avonlea with
Camilla Jane and within ten hours everybody in the
settlement knew the whole story, and every woman who
could stand on her feet had been up to the Ellis
cottage to see the baby. Mrs. Wheeler arrived home
twenty-four hours later, and silently betook herself to
her farm. When her Avonlea neighbors sympathized with
her in her disappointment, she said nothing, but looked
all the more darkly determined. Also, a week later, Mr.
William J. Blair, the Carmody storekeeper, had an odd
tale to tell. Mrs. Wheeler had come to the store and
bought a lot of fine flannel and muslin and
valenciennes. Now, what in the name of time, did Mrs.
Wheeler want with such stuff? Mr. William J. Blair
couldn't make head or tail of it, and it worried him.
Mr. Blair was so accustomed to know what everybody
bought anything for that such a mystery quite upset
him.
Miss Rosetta had exulted in the possession of little
Camilla Jane for a month, and had been so happy that
she had almost given up inveighing against Charlotte.
Her conversations, instead of tending always to Jacob
Wheeler, now ran Camilla Janeward; and this, folks
thought, was an improvement.
One afternoon, Miss Rosetta, leaving Camilla Jane
snugly sleeping in her cradle in the kitchen, had
slipped down to the bottom of the garden to pick her
currants. The house was hidden from her sight by the
copse of cherry trees, but she had left the kitchen
window open, so that she could hear the baby if it
awakened and cried. Miss Rosetta sang happily as she
picked her currants. For the first time since Charlotte
had married Jacob Wheeler Miss Rosetta felt really
happy - so happy that at there was no room in her heart
for bitterness. In fancy she looked forward to the
coming years, and saw Camilla Jane growing up into
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