Further Chronicles of Avonlea

Aunt Jane, of cours

k of it; Rachel had worked hard all her life. It was a difference inherent in temperament. The Spencers, no matter what they did, or how hard they labored, all had plump, smooth, white hands, with firm, supple fingers; the

th as much impatience as her soft, throaty voice could expr

why you don't like h

ou. She has always be

thank her quite as promptly as I should have done, she rapped my head with her bethimbled finger to 'teach me better manners.' It hurt horribly-I've always had a tender head. And that has been Aunt Jane's way ever since. When I grew too bi

d. People would tal

t by marriage. I wouldn't mind in the least if people

words and decisions-a finality against which it was seldom of any avail to struggle. People,

masses of dull, soft, silky brown hair. She had delicate aquiline features and a small, babyish red mouth. She looked as if

urces for that. She gave her shoulders a shrug, and wrote Aunt Jane's name down on the wedding list in her large, somewhat untidy handwriting-a handwriting which always seemed to irritate her mother. Rachel never could understand this irritation. She could never guess that it was because her writing l

ter at all points, and Isabella Spencer escaped hating her for it only by loving her the more fiercely because of it. Even so, there were many times when she had to avert her ey

s so near to her own that she would not lose Rachel altogether. Rachel fondly believed that her mother would not lose her at all; but Isabella Spe

e as a wood lily, with only a faint dream of rose in the cheeks. She wore her sleek, golden hair in a quaint arch around it. Her forehead was very broad and white. She was fresh and young and hopeful. The mother's heart contracted in a spasm of p

e dining-room is too small. We must borrow Mrs. Bell's forks and spoons. She offered to lend them. I'd never have been willing to ask her. The damask table cloths with the rib

ming quicker, and the faint blush on her smooth cheeks had deepened to crimson. She knew that a critical

ly. "Hand it here and let me look over it to make sur

She could hear the flies buzzing on the panes, the soft purr of the wind about the low eaves and throu

e came to the last name, she did not utter it. She cast a black glance at Rachel, and a spark leaped up

e list of wedding gu

Spencer lived alone

was a combination of

a Spencer's husband

leave of your senses? What do yo

to invite my father to my wed

pencer, her lips as white as if

ne. Now that the conflict was actually on she found herself rather enjoying it. She wondered a little at herself, and thought that she must be wicked. She was not given to

ill simply go to the manse, be married, and go home. If I cannot

re of soul and spirit than of flesh and blood. In spite of her anger her heart thrilled to it. As never before, she realized that this girl was her own and her husband's child, a living bond bet

see you married," she said with a bitter sneer. "HE has never remember

to hurt her, its venom being neutralized by a secret

have a wedding," she repeated steadily, adopting her mother's

an, long accustomed to having her own way, compelled for once to yield. "It

rose quickly and went upstairs to her own room, a dim little place shadowed by the white birches growing thickly outside-a virginal r

that her mother had probably spoken the truth when she said that he would not come. Rachel felt that her m

could be no doubt that Isabella had married David for love, since he had neither lands nor money to tempt her

lla liked farming, and loved her fertile acres and opulent orchards. She abhorred the sea and all that pertained to it, less from any dread of its dangers than from an inbred conviction that sailors wer

im, he stifled it, and listened not to its luring voice. He and Isabella were very happy;

essed craving for the wide blue wastes of the ocean, and the wind whistling through the spars with the salt foam in its breath, broke forth with a passion all the more intense for t

. The latent obstinacy of David's character came to the support of his longing-a longing which

d to go, and he

ng and milking cow

are sick of a respe

bel

contemptuous shrug of his sh

Spencer, you need never come back

d not care whether she meant it or not. David Spencer left behind him a woman, cal

us, tamed for a while of his wanderlust, ready, with something of

he door, smileless, c

in the tone she was accustomed to

rise left him at a l

my wife. I'v

ur choice when you went away," Isabella had replied. Then

walked away up the lane under the birches. He said nothing-then or at any other t

ht a small house and had it hauled to the "Cove," a lonely inlet from which no other human habitation was visible. Between his sea voyages

o patch up the matter with argument and entreaty, Isabella met them stonily, seeming not to hear what they said, and makin

mility, Isabella's heart, softened by the pain and joy of her long and ardently desired motherhood might have cast out the rankling venom of resentment t

tancy, a fluttering restlessness was gone. Isabella had ceased to hope secretly that her husband would yet come back. She had in her secret soul thought he would; and she had meant to forgive him when she had humbled him suf

n. Finally, she reasoned it out that the difference consisted in the fact that they had fathers and she, Rachel Spencer, had none-not even in the graveyard, as Carrie Bell and Lili

I got a father like t

a few direct and bitter words that imprinted themselves indelibly on Rachel's remembrance. She understood clearl

ella Spencer in conclusion. "He never did care

l heart. There she cried passionately over her mother's last words. It seemed to her a terribl

id not disobey her. Never again did the child speak of her father; but Isabella had not forbidden her to think of him, and thenceforth Rachel thought of him consta

eal to her than most of the people she had seen. He played and talked with her as her mother never did; he walked with her in

r impatiently why she ta

m talking to a very dear friend

er mother, half tolerant

r little playmates. Such a jaunt was a rare treat to the child, for Isabella Spencer seldom allowed her to go from home with a

g and alluring, like a beautiful, coquettish woman. Outside, the wind was boisterous and rollicking; here, it was reverent and gentle. A white boat was hauled up on the skids, and there was a queer little house close down to the s

here and rest for a spell. I don't want to go to Gul

sked Carrie Be

of being alone as s

with d

the big white boat. She sat there for a time dreaming happily, with her blue

merry, blue eyes. Rachel was quite sure that she had never seen him before; yet those eyes seemed to her to have a strangely

as very thick and curly and fair; his cheeks were tanned and red; his teeth, when he smiled, were very even a

ng for the merm

y one else she would have scru

is no such thing as a mermaid, but I like

a bleached log of drif

ny other very wonderful things. I might tell you about s

she reached him he pulled her d

e," he said. "Do you suppose, no

and liked to tease her for kisses until they aggravated her so terribly that she told them she couldn'

u," she sa

hen, all at once, Rachel knew who he was. He was her father. She did not say anything, but she laid her cur

f far lands he had visited, and strange things he had seen. Rachel listened entranced, as if she were hearkening t

I'll show you some prett

led with the flotsam and jetsam of his roving life-things beautiful and odd and strange beyond all telling. The things

uld be such pretty things i

an; then he paused for a moment. "I'

ut of a little corner cupboard. It was a teapot of some fine, glistening purple ware, coiled over by golden dragons with gilded claws and

of any value I have in

rummaged out some goodies for her to eat, sweetmeats more delicious than she had ever imagined. While she nibbled them he took down an old violin and play

oint," he said, finally. "I suppose you must g

tightly against his breast for a singl

little girl. Good-b

see you again?" cried Rachel, ha

know it is because you can't-and that is much to know. I'm v

d not seen her leaving the house, and she said not a word to them of her experi

aid, "bless mother-and father," with an instinctive pause between the two names-a pause which indicated new realization of the tra

n had been there, and, although she knew nothing of Rachel's interview with her f

it. Thenceforth there had been no communication between her and her father,

the remaining days of Rachel's maidenhood slipped away in a whirl of preparation

ly over the great sea in a sheen of silver and pearl a

in this last solemn hour of girlhood. She looked very fair and sweet in the sunset-light that showered through the birches. Her wedding gown was a fine, sheer organdie, simply and daintily made. In the l

er came in, carryi

nd to give it into your own hands-said that was his orders. I just took it and sent him to th

resented it; but her resentment was not quite strong enough to overcome

emembered them! Beneath them, carefully wrapped up in a square of foreign-looking, strangely scented silk,

. It was among the things I packed up and sent after him. His father had brought it home from Chin

oringly. She had caught sight of a little note at the bottom of the b

to the window, where she read her letter by the fading gleams of twilight. I

see you married, but I can't go to the house I was turned out of. I hope you will be very happy. I am sending you the shells and teapot you l

loving

D SPE

nt hunger that would not be denied. She MUST see her father; she MUST have his blessing on her new life. A sudden determination

herself in her new raincoat, and drew a dark, protecting hood over her gay head. She opened the door and slipped noiselessly downstairs. Mrs. Spencer and her as

was crooning about the eaves of the little gray house where David Spencer was sitting, alone in the twilight, his violin on his knee. He had been trying to play, but could not. His heart yearned aft

ly in, flinging off her wraps and standing forth in her young beauty and bridal

enly, and her father's ea

er and friendly greeting. The bridegroom came, too, a slim, dark-eyed lad who tiptoed bashfully up

l before we go down,

r. There was no reply; the room was dark and still. In sudden alarm, Isabella Spencer snatched the lamp from the hall table and held it up. The lit

ash of intuition had revealed to h

is pallid dismay recalled Mrs. Spencer to h

e to see her-her father. I know she has. It's just like what she would do. He sent her those presents-look-and this letter. Read it. She has gone to coax him to come and see her married. She wa

ind had returned to h

ther. She had tol

he said gently. "Ge

e back stairs and

ng comedy and tragedy after her characteristic fashion. "The kitchen is full of

women in little things, crawled obediently out of the pantry window and darted throu

her! Like had broken the fett

f her, after all, when he sent her that teapot and letter. And what does he mean about the 'day they had such a good

wn the pantry window

k in time to prevent gossip I'll forgive he

ck, when Frank came in. She sprang up, her face flushed and appealing, her eyes

late? Oh, are you angry

don't you think you'd better come back now?

r to come up and see me married

id Frank, heartily, "I'd lik

shook his he

mind me. I've had my happiness in this half hour with my li

Frank, I'm going to be married here in my father's house! That is the right place

ismayed. David Spence

don't you thin

tender finality. "Go, Frank. I'll obey you all my life after, but

"Besides, I think you are right. But I wa

ll," said Rachel. She was betraying unsuspected ability to manage pe

in at the front door upon his return. She pounced on

made you come that w

ay. Rachel says she is going to be married from her fathe

face turn

this affair. Do as you please. Take the g

aid Frank, ignoring the sarcasm. "Come,

I am going to David S

Spencer v

se his bride past all finding in this maze of triple stubbornness. "Rachel says she won't be marr

soul was a strong desire not to make a worse scandal than must of necessity

said icily. "What can't be cured m

with the minister and the bridegroom in the front of the procession. They were too amaze

and the croon of the waves on the shore. David Spencer gave his daughter away; but, when the ceremony was concluded, Isabella was the first to t

hope and pray that you may

wy corner behind a heap of sails and ropes. Looking up, she found herself crushed against David Spencer. For the first tim

ng wooer of her girlhood-"Is it too late to ask you to forgive me? I've been a stubborn fool-but there h

wth on a nobler stem, with no abiding roots of its own. It withered under his

ll-to-blame," she

ere lost on her

abella Spencer stepped out before the company. She looked almost g

crisply. "Rachel, your father is coming, too. He is coming to S

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 walk

helped her over the fence, "

orgive," he said. "We

a bridegroom talki

ginning over new