The Complete Short Stories of Lucy Maud Montgomery. Lucy Maud Montgomery
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unhappy one. Not unnaturally, although unjustly, Eunice blamed
Victoria for this, and hated her more than ever for it.
Christopher seldom came to Charles’ house. Possibly he felt ashamed. He had grown into a morose, silent man, at home and abroad. It was said he had gone back to his old drinking habits.
One fall Victoria Holland went to town to visit her married sister. She took their only child with her. In her absence Christopher kept house for himself.
It was a fall long remembered in Avonlea. With the dropping of the leaves, and the shortening of the dreary days, the shadow of a fear fell over the land. Charles Holland brought the fateful news home one night.
“There’s smallpox in Charlottetown — five or six cases. Came in one of the vessels. There was a concert, and a sailor from one of the ships was there, and took sick the next day.”
This was alarming enough. Charlottetown was not so very far away and considerable traffic went on between it and the north shore districts.
When Caroline recounted the concert story to Christopher the next morning his ruddy face turned quite pale. He opened his lips as if to speak, then closed them again. They were sitting in the kitchen; Caroline had run over to return some tea she had borrowed, and, incidentally, to see what she could of Victoria’s housekeeping in her absence. Her eyes had been busy while her tongue ran on, so she did not notice the man’s pallor and silence.
“How long does it take for smallpox to develop after one has been exposed to it?” he asked abruptly, when Caroline rose to go.
“Ten to fourteen days, I calc’late,” was her answer. “I must see about having the girls vaccinated right off. It’ll likely spread. When do you expect Victoria home?”
“When she’s ready to come, whenever that will be,” was the gruff response.
A week later Caroline said to Eunice, “Whatever’s got Christopher? He hasn’t been out anywhere for ages — just hangs round home the whole time. It’s something new for him. I s’pose the place is so quiet, now Madam Victoria’s away, that he can find some rest for his soul. I believe I’ll run over after milking and see how he’s getting on. You might as well come, too, Eunice.”
Eunice shook her head. She had all her mother’s obstinacy, and darken Victoria’s door she would not. She went on patiently darning socks, sitting at the west window, which was her favorite position — perhaps because she could look from it across the sloping field and past the crescent curve of maple grove to her lost home.
After milking, Caroline threw a shawl over her head and ran across the field. The house looked lonely and deserted. As she fumbled at the latch of the gate the kitchen door opened, and Christopher Holland appeared on the threshold.
“Don’t come any farther,” he called.
Caroline fell back in blank astonishment. Was this some more of
Victoria’s work?
“I ain’t an agent for the smallpox,” she called back viciously.
Christopher did not heed her.
“Will you go home and ask uncle if he’ll go, or send for Doctor
Spencer? He’s the smallpox doctor. I’m sick.”
Caroline felt a thrill of dismay and fear. She faltered a few steps backward.
“Sick? What’s the matter with you?”
“I was in Charlottetown that night, and went to the concert. That sailor sat right beside me. I thought at the time he looked sick. It was just twelve days ago. I’ve felt bad all day yesterday and to-day. Send for the doctor. Don’t come near the house, or let any one else come near.”
He went in and shut the door. Caroline stood for a few moments in an almost ludicrous panic. Then she turned and ran, as if for her life, across the field. Eunice saw her coming and met her at the door.
“Mercy on us!” gasped Caroline. “Christopher’s sick and he thinks he’s got the smallpox. Where’s Charles?”
Eunice tottered back against the door. Her hand went up to her side in a way that had been getting very common with her of late. Even in the midst of her excitement Caroline noticed it.
“Eunice, what makes you do that every time anything startles you?” she asked sharply. “Is it anything about your heart?”
“I don’t — know. A little pain — it’s gone now. Did you say that
Christopher has — the smallpox?”
“Well, he says so himself, and it’s more than likely, considering the circumstances. I declare, I never got such a turn in my life. It’s a dreadful thing. I must find Charles at once — there’ll be a hundred things to do.”
Eunice hardly heard her. Her mind was centered upon one idea. Christopher was ill — alone — she must go to him. It did not matter what his disease was. When Caroline came in from her breathless expedition to the barn, she found Eunice standing by the table, with her hat and shawl on, tying up a parcel.
“Eunice! Where on earth are you going?”
“Over home,” said Eunice. “If Christopher is going to be ill he must be nursed, and I’m the one to do it. He ought to be seen to right away.”
“Eunice Carr! Have you gone clean out of your senses? It’s the smallpox — the smallpox! If he’s got it he’ll have to be taken to the smallpox hospital in town. You shan’t stir a step to go to that house!”
“I will.” Eunice faced her excited aunt quietly. The odd resemblance to her mother, which only came out in moments of great tension, was plainly visible. “He shan’t go to the hospital — they never get proper attention there. You needn’t try to stop me. It won’t put you or your family in any danger.”
Caroline fell helplessly into a chair. She felt that it would be of no use to argue with a woman so determined. She wished Charles was there. But Charles had already gone, posthaste, for the doctor.
With a firm step, Eunice went across the field footpath she had not trodden for so long. She felt no fear — rather a sort of elation. Christopher needed her once more; the interloper who had come between them was not there. As she walked through the frosty twilight she thought of the promise made to Naomi Holland, years ago.
Christopher saw her coming and waved her back.
“Don’t come any nearer, Eunice. Didn’t Caroline tell you? I’m taking smallpox.”
Eunice did not pause. She went boldly through the yard and up the porch steps. He retreated before her and held the door.
“Eunice, you’re crazy, girl! Go home, before it’s too late.”
Eunice pushed open the door resolutely and went in.
“It’s too late now. I’m here, and I mean to stay and