Morning at Jalna. Mazo de la Roche

brown neck.

      “Don’t be afraid,” he whispered. His sinewy hand pressed her ribs.

      A child’s voice broke in on them. “I see you!” called out Ernest. He and the two elder children came crashing through the undergrowth.

      “Having a picnic?” demanded Nicholas.

      “Not yet,” said Tite.

      Nicholas looked accusingly at Annabelle. “You’re needed at home,” he said. “Cindy has just had a baby.”

      Annabelle sprang to her feet. “And me not thar to help!” she cried. “Oh, my goodness! Show me the path, chillen, and Ah’ll run all the way. Was thar a doctor? Was thar a midwife?”

      “There was only my mother,” said Nicholas. “Our servants were too badly frightened.” His handsome boy’s face was flushed by excitement.

      “Was you sent to fetch me?”

      “No, I was told to take Ernest out of the way. He doesn’t understand such things.”

      “Understand — my eye,” said Ernest. He was so excited that he walked in a circle.

      “Do you know the shortcut to Jalna?” Tite asked of Nicholas.

      “I do. Come along, Annabelle. Let’s see how fast you can run.” He led the way, the mulatto running lightly after him.

      “This baby,” called Tite, “is born into a free country. What colour is it?”

      “Black as the ace of spades,” said Nicholas.

      “I shall follow with Ernest,” said Augusta. Her pale face was even paler than usual, though she had been running. She took Ernest firmly by the hand. The moist earth was soft beneath their feet. Slender larch trees and leafy undergrowth pressed close on the path, across which a mottled snake glided, pausing just long enough to spit out its yellow venom at them.

      “If Nicholas were here,” said Ernest, “he would kill it.”

      “We are supposed,” said Augusta, “to love all God’s creatures.”

      “Gussie, do you love Cindy’s baby?”

      “I daresay I shall.”

      “How did Nicholas know it was black?”

      “Perhaps Mamma told him.”

      “Tell me, Gussie, how does a baby get born? Does it take a long while or does it come fast — whoosh, like that?” He made a violent gesture with his right arm.

      Augusta held firmly to his left hand. She said, “You should try to keep your mind off such things till you are older.”

      “As old as you?”

      “Much older. You must make the effort.”

      “I try to be brave,” said Ernest, looking fearfully into the moist August undergrowth.

      “You may not succeed in being brave but there is nothing to prevent your being good.”

      “Are we rewarded if we’re good?”

      “It is promised to us.”

      “Is Cindy being good or bad?”

      “I do not know.”

      “Then you don’t know if the baby is a reward or a punishment?”

      “How can I tell what sort of life she has led?” They had now reached the open parkland that lay about Jalna. Augusta freed Ernest’s hand and he darted ahead. Annabelle was nowhere in sight, but Nicholas and Lucius Madigan came to meet them.

      The tutor said, “I suppose you have heard of the new arrival?”

      “How black is the ace of spades?” asked Ernest.

      “I am colour blind,” said Madigan.

      “Is that why you wear that bright green cravat?” asked Ernest.

      Madigan fingered the cravat as though lovingly. “I wear this,” he said, “in memory of dear old Ireland. Thank God, she’s only a memory.”

      “Mr. Madigan,” said Ernest, “can you tell me how long it takes to be born?”

      Augusta fled.

      “My parents,” said Madigan, “had been married ten years when I came on the scene. So you may say it took me ten years to be born. But things move faster nowadays.”