he had a horse of his own he would take Aunty Nan to Kensington, Mrs.
William or no Mrs. William. Though, to be sure, it WAS a long drive for
her; and she was looking very frail this summer.

"Ain't going to last long," muttered Jordan, making his escape by the
porch door as Mrs. William puffed in by the other. "The sweetest old
creetur that ever was created'll go when she goes. Yah, ye old madam,
I'd like to give you a piece of my mind, that I would!"

This last was for Mrs. William, but was delivered in a prudent
undertone. Jordan detested Mrs. William, but she was a power to be
reckoned with, all the same. Meek, easy-going Billy Morrison did just
what his wife told him to.

So Aunty Nan did not get to Kensington to hear little Joscelyn sing. She
said nothing more about it but after that night she seemed to fail very
rapidly. Mrs. William said it was the hot weather, and that Aunty Nan
gave way too easily. But Aunty Nan could not help giving way now; she
was very, very tired. Even her knitting wearied her. She would sit for
hours in her rocking chair with the gray kitten in her lap, looking out
of the window with dreamy, unseeing eyes. She talked to herself a good
deal, generally about little Joscelyn. Mrs. William told Avonlea folk
that Aunty Nan had got terribly childish and always accompanied the
remark with a sigh that intimated how much she, Mrs. William, had to
contend with.

Justice must be done to Mrs. William, however. She was not unkind to
Aunty Nan; on the contrary, she was very kind to her in the letter. Her
comfort was scrupulously attended to, and Mrs. William had the grace to
utter none of her complaints in the old woman's hearing. If Aunty Nan
felt the absence of the spirit she never murmured at it.

One day, when the Avonlea slopes were golden-hued with the ripened
harvest, Aunty Nan did not get up. She complained of nothing but great
weariness. Mrs. William remarked to her husband that if SHE lay in bed
every day she felt tired, there wouldn't be much done at Gull Point
Farm. But she prepared an excellent breakfast and carried it patiently
up to Aunty Nan, who ate little of it.

After dinner Jordan crept up by way of the back stairs to see her. Aunty
Nan was lying with her eyes fixed on the pale pink climbing roses that
nodded about the window. When she saw Jordan she smiled.

"Them roses put me so much in mind of little Joscelyn," she said softly.
"She loved them so. If I could only see her!