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