"He never had any children of his own, Gilbert--I am positive he hadn't or he would never have written such rubbish. You just can't help talking baby talk to a baby. It comes natural--and it's RIGHT. It would be inhuman to talk to those tiny, soft, velvety little creatures as we do to great big boys and girls. Babies want love and cuddling and all the sweet baby talk they can get, and Little Jem is going to have it, bless his dear itty heartums.""But you're the worst I ever heard, Anne," protested Gilbert, who, not being a mother but only a father, was not wholly convinced yet that Sir Oracle was wrong. "Inever heard anything like the way you talk to that child.""Very likely you never did. Go away--go away. Didn't I bring up three pairs of Hammond twins before I was eleven? You and Sir Oracle are nothing but cold-blooded theorists. Gilbert, JUST look at him!
He's smiling at me--he knows what we're talking about.
And oo dest agwees wif evy word muzzer says, don't oo, angel-lover?"Gilbert put his arm about them. "Oh you mothers!" he said. "You mothers! God knew what He was about when He made you."So Little Jem was talked to and loved and cuddled; and he throve as became a child of the house of dreams.
Leslie was quite as foolish over him as Anne was. When their work was done and Gilbert was out of the way, they gave themselves over to shameless orgies of love-making and ecstasies of adoration, such as that in which Owen Ford had surprised them.
Leslie was the first to become aware of him. Even in the twilight Anne could see the sudden whiteness that swept over her beautiful face, blotting out the crimson of lip and cheeks.
Owen came forward, eagerly, blind for a moment to Anne.
"Leslie!" he said, holding out his hand. It was the first time he had ever called her by her name; but the hand Leslie gave him was cold; and she was very quiet all the evening, while Anne and Gilbert and Owen laughed and talked together. Before his call ended she excused herself and went upstairs . Owen's gay spirits flagged and he went away soon after with a downcast air.
Gilbert looked at Anne.
"Anne, what are you up to? There's something going on that I don't understand. The whole air here tonight has been charged with electricity. Leslie sits like the muse of tragedy; Owen Ford jokes and laughs on the surface, and watches Leslie with the eyes of his soul.
You seem all the time to be bursting with some suppressed excitement. Own up. What secret have you been keeping from your deceived husband?""Don't be a goose, Gilbert," was Anne's conjugal reply. "As for Leslie, she is absurd and I'm going up to tell her so."Anne found Leslie at the dormer window of her room.
The little place was filled with the rhythmic thunder of the sea. Leslie sat with locked hands in the misty moonshine--a beautiful, accusing presence.
"Anne," she said in a low, reproachful voice, "did you know Owen Ford was coming to Four Winds?""I did," said Anne brazenly.
"Oh, you should have told me, Anne," Leslie cried passionately. "If I had known I would have gone away--I wouldn't have stayed here to meet him. You should have told me. It wasn't fair of you, Anne--oh, it wasn't fair!"Leslie's lips were trembling and her whole form was tense with emotion. But Anne laughed heartlessly. She bent over and kissed Leslie's upturned reproachful face.
"Leslie, you are an adorable goose. Owen Ford didn't rush from the Pacific to the Atlantic from a burning desire to see ME. Neither do I believe that he was inspired by any wild and frenzied passion for Miss Cornelia. Take off your tragic airs, my dear friend, and fold them up and put them away in lavender. You'll never need them again. There are some people who can see through a grindstone when there is a hole in it, even if you cannot. I am not a prophetess, but I shall venture on a prediction. The bitterness of life is over for you. After this you are going to have the joys and hopes--and I daresay the sorrows, too--of a happy woman. The omen of the shadow of Venus did come true for you, Leslie. The year in which you saw it brought your life's best gift for you--your love for Owen Ford. Now, go right to bed and have a good sleep."Leslie obeyed orders in so far that she went to bed:
but it may be questioned if she slept much. I do not think she dared to dream wakingly; life had been so hard for this poor Leslie, the path on which she had had to walk had been so strait, that she could not whisper to her own heart the hopes that might wait on the future. But she watched the great revolving light bestarring the short hours of the summer night, and her eyes grew soft and bright and young once more. Nor, when Owen Ford came next day, to ask her to go with him to the shore, did she say him nay.
