"Dr. Ramsay says", remarked Adeline, "that I might have a child every year without harm, if only I would take care of myself".
"Not one more", said Philip, "unless Ramsay promises to sit on our doorstep for the last month. In any case, three is enough. We have a daughter to comfort our old age. We have two sons, so we are certain of an heir. Surely you don’t want more!"
"No. Three is enough".
He folded his arms on his broad chest. "I have made up my mind to one thing, Adeline. This boy, Ernest, shall be christened in our own church. Of course, you know that Pink and I have talked a good deal of the desirability of a church in the neighbourhood. You remember what we went through last winter in discomfort in those long drives to the service. Now, I am willing to give the land for the church and we might, with a great deal of effort, raise a fund sufficient for a poor-looking edifice. But I want a substantial church to sit in on a Sunday and, if I am to be by far the largest subscriber, I say that I might as well build the place myself. Then I shall have it as I want it and no bickering".
"It would take a lot of money just to build one little church".
"Adeline, that church will provide for your spiritual needs for the rest of your life, and for these children after you. That is not a little thing, is it?"
"You have the Church in your blood", she said. "I haven’t".
"But you would like to own a church, wouldn’t you?"
"It would be heavenly. If I didn’t like the clergyman I should just put him out".
"Oh, you couldn’t do that! But-you would have a good deal of influence".
"But, if it were my church, I could", she said stubbornly.
"Once the church is consecrated it is under the jurisdiction of the bishop of the diocese".
The dimple flashed in her cheek. "I should attend to the bishop".
Their talk had been punctuated by Nicholas’ shouts. Now he became too noisy to ignore. He crept to the head of the bed to kiss the grinning face of a monkey that peered between bright blossoms. He knelt on his mother’s hair.
"Young rascal!" exclaimed Philip, picking him up and setting him on his knee. He took out his big gold watch and held it to Nicholas’ ear.
"Ga-ga-ga-ga!" shouted Nicholas, his eyes dancing like stars.
"You see", said Philip, "the time is as propitious as ever it will be for building a church. I have the men on the spot. I have the money to spare. Large amounts of material left over from the building of the house and barn can be utilised. The Rector has a book of excellent plans for churches in the Colonies where there are not great sums of money available. It will be an unpretentious building but in time as the community grows it can be added to. The Rector is most enthusiastic, as there are a good many of the poorer people who seldom have the opportunity of attending a service. You can imagine how they would welcome a church and a parish room where they could meet and be sociable".
"Ga-ga-ga!" shouted Nicholas. "Ga-ga!"
"My sister would be tremendously pleased. I am sure she would send a substantial donation. I should screw something out of the Dean also".
"If you think you will get anything out of my people, you’re mistaken", said Adeline.
"I had no such thought", he returned.
"But my mother would embroider a beautiful altar-cloth".
"That would be very nice".
"My grandfather might give a pair of silver candlesticks".
"I doubt if candles on the altar would be acceptable. The Rector is against ritualism".
"Ga-ga-ga-ga!" said Nicholas, violently shaking the watch, then biting on it.
Philip returned it to his pocket. He rose, took his elder son beneath the arms and tossed him in the air. Nicholas’ face became a mask of hysterical delight. He would not have minded if he had been tossed clear into the sky.
Adeline smiled lazily, her hand rhythmically patting the back of her last-born. Gussie was enraptured. She scrambled down from the bed and ran to her father and clasped him about the legs. If any hard feeling existed between them it was now forgotten.
"Me too!" she shrieked. "Gussie too!"
Philip set Nicholas on the floor and snatched up Gussie. He tossed her up and caught her. Again and again. Higher and higher, till she almost touched the ceiling. At each upward flight she uttered a cry of mingled fright and joy. Her dark curls stood on end. Her dress of pale-blue merino, cut low at the neck and with short sleeves, blew out like a little balloon. Her tiny kid-clad feet hung helpless beneath her white pantalettes.
Adeline lay laughing at them. Nicholas pouted a little. But Ernest kept his forget-me-not blue eyes fixed on space and the tips of his pink fingers just touching.
"Stop", said Adeline at last. "You will make her giddy".
He desisted but before he put her down he gave her a hearty kiss on the mouth.
"Little daughter!" he said. "Little daughter!"
When he had led the children away to their nurse Adeline lay still, savouring her happiness. She lay on her embroidered pillows, relaxed but not drowsy, her difficult undertaking of giving birth accomplished, a thousand pleasant things waiting to be done as soon as she had the strength to do them. Her mind travelled back over her past life and she felt she really must have lived quite a long time to have experienced so much. There were the young, untrammelled, headstrong days in Ireland, full of the sound of boys’ voices, the music of the hunting-horn, the drift of fine rain against green leaves. There was her married life in India, the bold bright colour of it, the passion of her love for Philip, her friendship with native princes. It began to seem strangely unreal. She thought of the voyage from India and remembered rising early one hot morning, having a glimpse of Philip stripped on deck while two sailors dashed buckets of cold water over him. She remembered the pleased look on the faces of the sailors. None had seen her looking on.
She thought she would have a lilac tree planted outside the window of this room. Lilac had such a lovely scent in springtime. Mrs. Pink had promised her a root of it, as well as other garden plants. She would have flowers all about the place and an orchard with fruit of all sorts. She would plant a peach tree and a grape-vine and ask Captain Lacey to show her how to make peach brandy and grape wine.
Oh, how she wished she were able to unpack the chest of ivory and jade ornaments! And she was able-if only Dr. Ramsay would let her! Suddenly she grew restless. She tossed herself on the pillows. Was she to lie here for ever, doing nothing? The infant was sunk in deep, almost pre-natal slumber.
Half an hour later she was in her clothes, with the exception of her stays. But she had put on her linen chemise, her long, lace-edged drawers, her hand-knit silk stockings with clocks on the sides, her white flannel petticoat, her voluminous finely tucked cambric petticoat, her dark-red skirt with flounces edged with ruby-coloured velvet ribbon, her little sacque with lawn and lace undersleeves, her gaily embroidered Indian slippers. She felt oddly weak when she had finished dressing and did not attempt to arrange her hair. It hung to her waist in a rich russet mane. She opened the door and looked into the hall. Then she cast a backward glance at Ernest. At this moment there was no tenderness in it. He had been with her too much. She wanted to get away from him.
Though she felt a little giddy there was an exhilarating lightness in her body as she moved along the hall. In the dining-room she saw the heavy cornices above the windows waiting for curtains to be hung. She saw the massive sideboard and dining-table, the chairs from the house in the Rue St. Louis not arranged but standing just where they had been uncrated. She would have yellow velour curtains for this room, with heavy cords and tassels. Already richly embossed wallpaper from France had been ordered in Quebec. She stood a moment, caressing the satin smoothness of the newel-post, while her eyes roved speculatively from the library on her left to the drawing-room on her right. She smiled to think that Philip insisted on having a library, because there had been one in his home in England. They had brought few books with them but she was fond of reading. They would acquire a good collection in time. The light from the coloured glass windows on either side of the front door cast bright patches of green, purple and red over her. What lovely windows, she thought, and they had been her very own idea! By their brightness she saw that the sky had cleared. The sun was shining. She opened the door and stepped into the porch. She found herself face to face with Dr. Ramsay.