Night came ; no Charlotte . Another morning and no Charlotte . Miss Rosetta was hopelessly puzzled . What had happened ? Dear , dear , had Charlotte taken a bad heart spell , on hearing that she , Rosetta , had stolen a march on her to Charlottetown ? It was quite likely . You never knew what to expect of a woman who had married Jacob Wheeler ! The truth was , that the very evening Miss Rosetta had left Avonlea Mrs. Jacob Wheeler 's hired man had broken his leg and had had to be conveyed to his distant home on a feather bed in an express wagon . Mrs. Wheeler could not leave home until she had obtained another hired man . Consequently , it was the evening after the funeral when Mrs. Wheeler whisked up the steps of the Gordon house and met Miss Rosetta coming out with a big white bundle in her arms . The eyes of the two women met defiantly . Miss Rosetta 's face wore an air of triumph , chastened by a remembrance of the funeral that afternoon . Mrs. Wheeler 's face , except for eyes , was as expressionless as it usually was . Unlike the tall , fair , fat Miss Rosetta , Mrs. Wheeler was small and dark and thin , with an eager , careworn face . `` How is Jane ? '' she said abruptly , breaking the silence of ten years in saying it . `` Jane is dead and buried , poor thing , '' said Miss Rosetta calmly . `` I am taking her baby , little Camilla Jane , home with me . '' `` The baby belongs to me , '' cried Mrs. Wheeler passionately . `` Jane wrote to me about her .
Jane meant XXXXX I should have her .
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