MAY 1940

Una Blythe looked out her window at the morning and then down at the sleeping baby in her arms with a small, contented sigh.

Some had said that she was too old to be a mother again-- but look how perfect this baby was! There was nothing wrong with her. Some people had said she was crazy for trying it, at her age-- Mary Vance had been one of them-- but then Mary had gone home and knitted the forthcoming arrival pair after pair of booties. The tiny, brand-new baby that yawned like a kitten in her mother's arms was not yet a day old and already had a wardrobe that would put most girls to shame.

Others had said more hurtful things. Mrs. Bertie Shakespeare Drew had meant well when she said,

"This babe will surely take the place of the one you lost."

"Oh no," Una had replied, a fierce light springing into her eyes. "This baby will have a place of its own. Just as Susan will always, always have hers."

But Una had worried. What if the baby looked like Susan? Or worse yet-- what if it looked nothing like her? Una had cried when she saw her new daughter's blue eyes-- they were the same blue eyes that her other girls had. Everyone said that baby's eyes always changed-- but Una knew these eyes would stay the same.

But apart from those eyes little Rosemary Blythe looked nothing like the rest of her family. She had a fine, peaches-and-cream skin and hair of spun gold, like something in a fairy-tale. Shirley came in with the breakfast tray and seemed to read her thoughts.

"She's nothing like either of us," he laughed. "Una, are you sure this isn't a changling baby, brought to us by the fairies?"

"I'm sure," Una said with a wry smile. "Anyway, my mother--the first Cecilia--had blonde hair as a girl, though it darkened as she grew up. Maybe Rosemary's will, too."

Together they watched their child sleep.

"Cecilia--Susan--and now Rosemary," said Shirley contentedly. "Now we've got to have one more and name her Anne. Then we'll have one called after each of our mothers."

"I'm sorry, dear," Una laughed. "But I think this is to be our last. I'm so old, Shirley. I saw Mrs Marigold Guest at church last week with her newest and she and the baby together looked like a stained glass window of the Madonna and child. But I look so old."

"Don't ever let me hear you saying such a thing again," Shirley admonished her. "You, old? You look younger than the day I met you."

"I was eight years old when you met me!"

"Hush, and let me be romantic. Oh, well, little Rosemary, you're destined to be the youngest. It's for the best, though-- there are plenty of Annes in this family already. Look, Una, she's smiling-- who says that babies this age don't smile? I'm going to get the camera. Tickle her, keep her laughing!"

Una ran her fingers over the baby's belly as Shirley bounded from the room. From downstairs she heard him whistling as he looked for a canister of film. From the open window, Cecilia's happy voice floated up from the porch, where she was talking with Joy. She was telling Joy about the baby. "She's the most beautiful thing! And Joy, when I saw her for the first time, I swear I felt as if I had seen her somewhere before."

Una looked at Susan's portrait on the wall over the dresser-- and she could swear that the girl's dimple deepened.

Shirley came back with the camera and started snapping away. "Cecilia!" he shouted. "Get your carcass up here, pronto! We're taking a family picture."

Cecilia tripped up there stairs, Joy close behind her, and Shirley posed them all, even Joy, who insisted that she shouldn't be in it. But Shirley insisted harder. Then he set the camera on the bureau, fixed the timer, and ran to join them.

They would see later that from the angle the picture was taken, Susan's portrait could be seen on the wall above them. And through the open window, Blythe had been caught coming up the lane.

Cecilia and Joy ran to meet him. Shirley went downstairs to give the boy a cigar-- which he took, hardly knowing how to refuse it. Oh, dear! What would Nan say?

They all sounded so sweet and happy and full of dreams. Una thought fleetingly of the war over in Europe. Who knew how much longer they had to smile and laugh and dream? But she pushed those thoughts from her mind and kissed Rosemary's hair. For now it was a lovely spring day, the mayflowers were out in Rainbow Valley, and Una was happy.