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Further Chronicles of Avonlea by L. M. (Lucy Maud) Montgomery
page 78 of 277 (28%)

"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!

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
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