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It was probably the first time Caroline had ever wished this. She had flown at Christopher like a fury about the matter, and had been rudely insulted for her pains. Christopher had told her to mind her own business.

When Caroline cooled down she made some arrangements with him, to all of which Eunice listlessly assented. She did not care what became of her. When Christopher Holland brought Victoria as mistress to the house where his mother had toiled, and suffered, and ruled with her rod of iron, Eunice was gone. In Charles Holland’s household she took Electa’s place–an unpaid upper servant.

Charles and Caroline were kind enough to her, and there was plenty to do. For five years her dull, colorless life went on, during which time she never crossed the threshold of the house where Victoria Holland ruled with a sway as absolute as Naomi’s had been. Caroline’s curiosity led her, after her first anger had cooled, to make occasional calls, the observations of which she faithfully reported to Eunice. The latter never betrayed any interest in them, save once. This was when Caroline came home full of the news that Victoria had had the room where Naomi died opened up, and showily furnished as a parlor. Then Eunice’s sallow face crimsoned, and her eyes flashed, over the desecration. But no word of comment or complaint ever crossed her lips.

She knew, as every one else knew, that the glamor soon went from Christopher Holland’s married life. The marriage proved an unhappy one. Not unnaturally, although unjustly, Eunice blamed Victoria for this, and hated her more than ever for it.

Christopher seldom came to Charles’ house. Possibly he felt ashamed. He had grown into a morose, silent man, at home and abroad. It was said he had gone back to his old drinking habits.

One fall Victoria Holland went to town to visit her married sister. She took their only child with her. In her absence Christopher kept house for himself.

It was a fall long remembered in Avonlea. With the dropping of the leaves, and the shortening of the dreary days, the shadow of a fear fell over the land. Charles Holland brought the fateful news home one night.

“There’s smallpox in Charlottetown–five or six cases. Came in one of the vessels. There was a concert, and a sailor from one of the ships was there, and took sick the next day.”

This was alarming enough. Charlottetown was not so very far away and considerable traffic went on between it and the north shore districts.

When Caroline recounted the concert story to Christopher the next morning his ruddy face turned quite pale. He opened his lips as if to speak, then closed them again. They were sitting in the kitchen; Caroline had run over to return some tea she had borrowed, and, incidentally, to see what she could of Victoria’s housekeeping in her absence. Her eyes had been busy while her tongue ran on, so she did not notice the man’s pallor and silence.

“How long does it take for smallpox to develop after one has been exposed to it?” he asked abruptly, when Caroline rose to go.

“Ten to fourteen days, I calc’late,” was her answer. “I must see about having the girls vaccinated right off. It’ll likely spread. When do you expect Victoria home?”

“When she’s ready to come, whenever that will be,” was the gruff response.

A week later Caroline said to Eunice, “Whatever’s got Christopher? He hasn’t been out anywhere for ages–just hangs round home the whole time. It’s something new for him. I s’pose the place is so quiet, now Madam Victoria’s away, that he can find some rest for his soul. I believe I’ll run over after milking and see how he’s getting on. You might as well come, too, Eunice.”