Further Chronicles of Avonlea — Ch. IV: Jane's Baby, pt. 1

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.

Miss Rosetta fully expected Charlotte along on the 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!