“Yes, Calthorpe is selling out, I drew up some papers for him. He’s been up in the Adirondacks all summer and is going to Bermuda; but he will never come back alive.”
“How queer it all is! We met Mrs. Brant a few times at Bayside. They have come to Newton to look into the business and are staying with Mrs. Wheeler. They came to call and Mrs. Brant has a pretty, stylish young daughter. Of course they’ll have to move here. She is quite taken with Newton. I told them 179 about that Jamreth house down the street and they decided to look at it. Of course I didn’t get much acquainted with her, but she seems a very nice body. And that’s a promising business, but Calthorpe had to give it up and I’m sorry for the poor fellow; glad, too, that he met with this chance of disposing of his share. Brant appears to be a nice, brisk fellow and it is lucky for Davis as well.”
The Jamreth house had stood empty all summer. Marilla passed it on her way to the park, for Arch street led direct. Suppose Ada was there sitting on the stoop or at the window and giving her that indifferent stare when they had been quite acquaintances!
For the first time fairy land and her dancing with the Prince failed to comfort. The whole world seemed changed, and how would Miss Armitage be, now that she was well?
But she was very, very busy; Jack went to school a week and was delighted with the boys.
“Sam Gordon has a little brother just big enough to begin school. I wish one of the twins was a boy. What’s the use of so many girls?” 180
His father laughed a little at that. The second week the charm began to fail. His head ached and he wanted to stay at home and have Marilla read to him.
“Boys don’t have headaches,” said his mother. But he was cross and his face flushed up so that in the afternoon his teacher sent him home. “And I don’t want this scratchy flannel on! I like the other better; can’t I pull it off?”
“The others are worn out, and it is coming cooler weather. Oh, you’ll get used to it,” said his mother, teasingly.
Then he kicked the babies’ playthings about and pinched Marilla’s arm and wouldn’t eat any dinner, and said his pudding was bitter. His father sent him to bed, but he tossed and tumbled and cried out for a drink ever so many times, and in the morning was red with a fever and some sort of eruption. So they sent for Dr. Baker, who pronounced it a fine case of measles.