"No," said Jane. And then, to her own amazement, added, "Do you?"
She was still more amazed when mother said, quickly and vehemently, "I hate it!"
That night Jane ticked off May. Only ten days more. It was days now where it had been weeks. Oh, suppose she took ill and couldn't go! But no! God wouldn't ... couldn't!
Chapter 34
Grandmother coldly told mother to buy what clothes ... IF ANY ... were necessary for Jane. Jane and mother had a happy afternoon's shopping. Jane picked her own things ... things that would suit Lantern Hill and an Island summer. Mother insisted on some smart little knitted sweaters and one pretty dress of rose-pink organdie with delicious frills. Jane didn't know where she would ever wear it ... it was too ornate for the little south church but she let mother buy it to please her. And mother got her the niftiest little green bathing-suit.
"Just think," reflected Jane happily, "in a week I'll be on Queen's Shore. I hope the water won't be too cold for swimming...."
"We may be going to the Island in August," said Phyllis. "Dad says he hasn't been down for so long he'd like to spend another vacation there. If we do, we'll be stopping at the Harbour Head Hotel and it isn't very far from there to Queen's Shore. So we'll likely see you."
Jane didn't know whether she liked this idea or not. She didn't want Phyllis there, patronizing the Island ... looking down her nose at Lantern Hill and the boot-shelf and the Snowbeams.
Jane went to the Maritimes with the Randolphs this year and they left on the morning train instead of the night. It was a dull, cloudy day but Jane was so happy she positively radiated happiness around her like sunshine. Mrs Randolph's opinion of Jane was the very opposite of what Mrs Stanley's had been. Mrs Randolph thought she had never met a more charming child, interested in everything, finding beauty everywhere, even in those interminable stretches of pulpwood lands and lumber forests in New Brunswick. Jane studied the time-table and hailed each station as a friend, especially the ones with quaint, delightful names ... Red Pine, Bartibog, Memramcook. And then Sackville where they left the main line and got on the little branch train to Cape Tormentine. How sorry Jane felt for any one who was not going to the Island!
Cape Tormentine ... the car ferry ... watching for the red cliffs of the Island ... there they were ... she had really forgotten how red they were ... and beyond them misty green hills. It was raining again, but who cared? Everything the Island did was right. If it wanted to rain ... why, rain was Jane's choice.
Having left Toronto on the morning train, they were in Charlottetown by mid-afternoon. Jane saw dad the moment she stepped off the train ... grinning and saying, "Excuse me, but your face seems familiar. Are you by any chance ..." but Jane had hurled herself at him. They had never been parted ... she had never been away at all. The world was real again. She was Jane again. Oh, dad, dad!
She had been afraid Aunt Irene would be there, too ... possibly Miss Lilian Morrow as well. But Aunt Irene, it transpired, was away on a visit to Boston and had taken Miss Morrow with her. Jane secretly hoped that Aunt Irene would be having such a fine time in Boston that she wouldn't be able to tear herself away for a long time.
"And the car has turned temperamental again," said dad. "I had to leave it in the garage at the Corners and borrow Step-a-yard's horse and buggy. You don't mind?"
Mind? Jane was delighted. She wanted that drive to Lantern Hill to be so slow that she could drink the road in as she drove along. And she liked to be behind a horse. You could talk to a horse as you never could to a car. The fact was, if dad had said they had to walk to Lantern Hill it wouldn't have mattered to Jane.
Dad put lean strong hands under her arms and swung her up to the buggy seat.
"Let's just go on from where we left off. You've grown since last summer, my Jane."
"An inch," said Jane proudly.
It had stopped raining. The sun was coming out. Beyond, the white wave crests on the harbour were laughing at her ... waving their hands at her.
"Let's go uptown and buy our house some presents. Jane."
"A double boiler that won't leak, dad. Booties always did, a little. And a potato-ricer ... can we get a potato-ricer, dad?"
Dad thought the budget would stretch to a potato-ricer.
It was delightful, all of it. But Jane sparkled when they had left town behind them, going home to all the things they loved.
"Drive slow, dad. I don't want to miss ANYTHING on the road."
She was feasting her eyes on everything ... spruce-clad hills, bits of gardens full of unsung beauty tucked away here and there, glimpses of sparkling sea, blue rivers ... had those rivers really been so blue last summer? It had been an early spring and all the blossom show was over. Jane was sorry for that. She wondered if she would ever be able to get to the Island in time to see the Titus ladies' famous cherry walk in its spring-blow.
They called for a moment to see Mrs Meade, who kissed Jane and was sorry Mr Meade couldn't come out to see her, because he was in bed with an abyss in his ear. She gave them a packet of ham sandwiches and cheese to stay their stomachs if they were hungry on the road.
They heard the ocean before they saw it. Jane loved the sound. It was as if the spirit of the sea called to her. And then the first snuff of salt in the air ... there was one particular hill where they always got the first tang. And from that same hill they caught their first far-away glimpse of Lantern Hill. It was wonderful to be able to see your own home so far off ... to feel that every step the horse took was bringing you nearer to it.
From there on Jane was on her own stamping ground. It was so exciting to recognize all the spots along the road ... green wood lanes, old beloved farms that held out their arms to her. The single row of spruces was still marching up Little Donald's hill. The dunes ... and the fishing boats sailing in ... and the little blue pond laughing at her ... and Lantern Hill. Home after exile!
Somebody ... Jane discovered later that it was the Snowbeams ... had made "Welcome" with white stones in the walk. Happy was waiting for them in the yard and nearly ate Jane alive. Bubbles, the new fat white dog, sat apart and looked at her, but he was so cute that Jane forgave him on the spot for being Bubbles.
The first thing was to visit every room and every room welcomed her back. Nothing was changed. She looked the house over to make sure nothing was missing. The little bronze soldier was still riding on his bronze horse and the green cat kept watch and ward over dad's desk. But the silver needed polishing and the geraniums needed pruning and when had the kitchen floor been scrubbed?
She had been away from Lantern Hill for nine months, but now it seemed to her that she had never been away at all. She had really been living here all along. It was her spirit's home.
There was a bunch of little surprises ... nice surprises. They had six hens ... there was a small henhouse built below the garden ... there was a peaked porch roof built over the glass- paned door ... and dad had got the telephone in.
First Peter was sitting on the doorstone when Jane came downstairs, with a big mouse in his mouth, very proud of his prowess as a hunter. Jane pounced on him, mouse and all, and then looked around for Second Peter. Where was Second Peter?
Dad put his arm closely around Jane.
"Second Peter died last week, Jane. I don't know what happened to him ... he got sick. I had the vet for him but he could do nothing."
Jane felt a stinging in her eyes. She would not cry but she choked.
"I ... I ... didn't think anything I loved could die," she whispered into dad's shoulder.
"Ah, Jane, love can't fence out death. He had a happy life if a short one ... and we buried him in the garden. Come out and see the garden, Jane ... it burst into bloom as soon as it heard you were coming."