Jane of Lantern Hill by L. M. Montgomery Page A

Jane.
    â€œWe could. Clever of you to think of that, Jane. I might have turned down our predestined house just because it was mud color. And we must have at least one window where we can see the gulf.”
    â€œWill it be near the gulf?”
    â€œIt must be. We’re going up to the Queen’s Shore district. All the houses I’ve heard about are up there.”
    â€œI’d like it to be on a hill,” said Jane wistfully.
    â€œLet’s sum up…a little house, white and green or to be made so…with trees, preferably birch and spruce…a window looking seaward…on a hill. That sounds very possible…but there is one other requirement. There must be magic about it, Jane…lashings of magic…and magic houses are scarce, even on the Island. Have you any idea at all what I mean, Jane?”
    Jane reflected.
    â€œYou want to feel that the house is yours before you buy it,” she said.
    â€œJane,” said dad, “you are too good to be true.”
    He was looking at her closely as they went up a hill after crossing a river so blue that Jane had exclaimed in rapture over it…a river that ran into a bluer harbor. And when they reached the top of the hill, there before them lay something greater and bluer still than Jane knew must be the gulf.
    â€œOh!” she said. And again, “Oh!”
    â€œThis is where the sea begins. Like it, Jane?”
    Jane nodded. She could not speak. She had seen Lake Ontario, pale blue and shimmering, but this…this? She continued to look at it as if she could never have enough of it.
    â€œI never thought anything could be so blue,” she whispered.
    â€œYou’ve seen it before,” said dad softly. “You may not know it, but it’s in your blood. You were born beside it, one sweet, haunted April night…you lived by it for three years. Once I took you down and dipped you in it, to the horror of…of several people. You were properly baptized before that in the Anglican church in Charlottetown…but that was your real baptism. You are the sea’s child and you have come home.”
    â€œBut you didn’t like me,” said Jane, before she thought.
    â€œNot like you! Who told you that?”
    â€œGrandmother.” She had not been forbidden to mention grandmother’s name to him.
    â€œThe old…” dad checked himself. A mask seemed to fall over his face.
    â€œLet us not forget we are house-hunting, Jane,” he said coolly.
    For a little while Jane felt no interest in house-hunting. She didn’t know what to believe or whom to believe. She thought dad liked her now…but did he? Perhaps he was just pretending. Then she remembered how he had kissed her.
    â€œHe does like me now ,” she thought. “Perhaps he didn’t like me when I was born but I know he does now.” And she was happy again.

CHAPTER 16
    House-hunting, Jane decided, was jolly. Perhaps it was really more the pleasure of the driving and talking and being silent with dad that was jolly, for most of the houses on dad’s list were not interesting. The first house they looked at was too big; the second was too small.
    â€œAfter all, we must have room to swing the cat,” said dad.
    â€œHave you a cat?” demanded Jane.
    â€œNo. But we can get one if you like. I hear the kitten crop is tops this year. Do you like cats?”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œThen we’ll have a bushel of them.”
    â€œNo,” said Jane, “two.”
    â€œAnd a dog. I don’t know how you feel about dogs, Jane, but if you’re going to have a cat, I must have a dog. I haven’t had a dog since…”
    He stopped short again, and again Jane had the feeling that he had been just on the point of saying something she wanted very much to hear.
    The third house looked attractive. It was just at the turn of a wooded road dappled with sunshine through the trees. But on inspection it