In a little while she and Susan would be laughing over their own foolishness, but now there could be only tears of thankfulness. Little Jem was sound asleep on the window-seat, with an afghan pulled over him, his battered Teddy Bear in his little sunburned hands, and a forgiving Shrimp stretched across his legs. His red curls fell over the cushion. He seemed to be having a pleasant dream and Anne did not mean to waken him. But suddenly he opened his eyes that were like hazel stars and looked at her.
"Jem, darling, why aren't you in your bed? We've … we've been a little alarmed … we couldn't find you … and we never thought of looking here … "
"I wanted to lie here 'cause I could see you and Daddy drive in at the gate when you got home. It was so lonesome I just had to go to bed."
Mother was lifting him in her arms … carrying him to his own bed. It was so nice to be kissed … to feel her tucking the sheets about him with those caressing little pats that gave him such a sense of being loved. Who cared about seeing an old snake tattooed, anyhow? Mother was so nice … the nicest mother anybody ever had. Everybody in the Glen called Bertie Shakespeare's mother "Mrs. Second Skimmings" because she was so mean, and he knew … for he'd seen it … that she slapped Bertie's face for every little thing.
"Mummy," he said sleepily, "of course I'll bring you mayflowers next spring … every spring. You can depend on me."
"Of course I can, darling," said Mother.
"Well, since everyone is over their fit of the fidgets, I suppose we can draw a peaceful breath and go back to our beds," said Aunt Mary Maria. But there was some shrewish relief in her tone.
"It was very silly of me not to remember the window-seat," said Anne. "The joke is on us and the doctor will not let us forget it, you may be certain. Susan, please phone Mr. Flagg that we've found Jem."
"And a nice laugh he will have on me," said Susan happily. "Not that I care … he can laugh all he likes since Little Jem is safe."
"I could do with a cup of tea," sighed Aunt Mary Maria plaintively, gathering her dragons about her spare form.
"I will get it in a jiffy," said Susan briskly. "We will all feel the sprightlier for one. Mrs. Dr. dear, when Carter Flagg heard Little Jem was safe he said, 'Thank God.' I shall never say a word against that man again, no matter what his prices are. And don't you think we might have a chicken dinner tomorrow, Mrs. Dr. dear? Just by way of a little celebration, so to speak. And Little Jem shall have his favourite muffins for breakfast."
There was another telephone call … this time from Gilbert to say that he was taking a badly burned baby from the Harbour Head to the hospital in town and not to look for him till morning.
Anne bent from her window for a thankful goodnight look at the world before going to bed. A cool wind was blowing in from the sea. A sort of moonlit rapture was running through the trees in the Hollow. Anne could even laugh … with a quiver behind the laughter … over their panic of an hour ago and Aunt Mary Maria's absurd suggestions and ghoulish memories. Her child was safe … Gilbert was somewhere battling to save another child's life… . Dear God, help him and help the mother … help all mothers everywhere. We need so much help, with the little sensitive, loving hearts and minds that look to us for guidance and love and understanding.
The friendly enfolding night took possession of Ingleside, and everybody, even Susan … who rather felt that she would like to crawl into some nice quiet hole and pull it in after her … fell asleep under its sheltering roof.
CHAPTER VII.
"He'll have plenty of company … he won't be lonesome … our four … and my niece and nephew from Montreal are visiting us. What one doesn't think of the others do."
Big, sonsy, jolly Mrs. Dr. Parker smiled expansively at Walter … who returned the smile somewhat aloofly. He wasn't altogether sure he liked Mrs. Parker in spite of her smiles and jollity. There was too much of her, somehow. Dr. Parker he did like. As for "our four" and the niece and nephew from Montreal, Walter had never seen any of them. Lowbridge, where the Parkers lived, was six miles from the Glen and Walter had never been there, though Dr. and Mrs. Parker and Dr. and Mrs. Blythe visited back and forth frequently. Dr. Parker and Dad were great friends, though Walter had a feeling now and again that Mother could have got along very well without Mrs. Parker. Even at six, Walter, as Anne realized, could see things that other children could not.
Walter was not sure, either, that he really wanted to go to Lowbridge. Some visits were splendid. A trip to Avonlea now … ah, there was fun for you! And a night spent with Kenneth Ford at the old House of Dreams was more fun still … though that couldn't really be called visiting, for the House of Dreams always seemed like a second home to the small fry of Ingleside. But to go to Lowbridge for two whole weeks, among strangers, was a very different matter. However, it seemed to be a settled thing. For some reason, which Walter felt but could not understand, Dad and Mummy were pleased over the arrangement. Did they want to get rid of all their children, Walter wondered, rather sadly and uneasily. Jem was away, having been taken to Avonlea two days ago, and he had heard Susan making mysterious remarks about "sending the twins to Mrs. Marshall Elliott when the time came." What time? Aunt Mary Maria seemed very gloomy over something and had been known to say that she "wished it was all well over." What was it she wished over? Walter had no idea. But there was something strange in the air at Ingleside.
"I'll take him over tomorrow," said Gilbert.
"The youngsters will be looking forward to it," said Mrs. Parker.
"It's very kind of you, I'm sure," said Anne.
"It's all for the best, no doubt," Susan told the Shrimp darkly in the kitchen.
"It is very obliging of Mrs. Parker to take Walter off our hands, Annie," said Aunt Mary Maria, when the Parkers had gone. "She told me she had taken quite a fancy to him. People do take such odd fancies, don't they? Well, perhaps now for at least two weeks I'll be able to go into the bathroom without tramping on a dead fish."
"A dead fish, Aunty! You don't mean … "
"I mean exactly what I say, Annie. I always do. A dead fish! Did you ever step on a dead fish with your bare feet?"
"No-o … but how … "
"Walter caught a trout last night and put it in the bathtub to keep it alive, Mrs. Dr. dear," said Susan airily. "If it had stayed there it would have been all right, but somehow it got out and died in the night. Of course, if people will go about on bare feet … "
"I make it a rule never to quarrel with anyone," said Aunt Mary Maria, getting up and leaving the room.
"I am determined she shall not vex me, Mrs. Dr. dear," said Susan.
"Oh, Susan, she is getting on my nerves a bit … but of course I won't mind so much when all this is over … and it must be nasty to tramp on a dead fish … "
"Isn't a dead fish better than a live one, Mummy? A dead fish wouldn't squirm," said Di.
Since the truth must be told at all costs it must be admitted that the mistress and maid of Ingleside both giggled.
So that was that. But Anne wondered to Gilbert that night if Walter would be quite happy at Lowbridge.
"He's so very sensitive and imaginative," she said wistfully.
"Too
