'MY DEAR ADDIE,
'You have no doubt ceased from your exertions in the way of finding
nurses, since the telegram has told you that the son and heir has
considerately saved trouble and expense by making his appearance on
Michaelmas morning. It was before there was time to fetch anybody
but the ancient village Bettina. Everything is most prosperous, and
I am almost as proud as the parents-and to see them gloat over the
morsel is a caution. They look at him as if such a being had never
been known on the earth before; and he really is a very fine healthy
creature, most ridiculously like the portrait of the original old
Michael Morton Northmoor in the full-bottomed wig. He seems to be
almost equally marvellous to the Ratzes population, being the first
infant seen there unswaddled-or washed. Bettina's horror at the
idea of washing him is worth seeing. Her brown old face was almost
convulsed, and she and our Frau-wirthin concurred in assuring me that
it would be fatal to der kleine baron if he were washed, except
with white wine and milk at a fortnight old; nor would they accept my
assurance that my three daughters and seven grandchildren had
survived the process. I have to do it myself, and dress him as I
can, for his wardrobe as made here is not complete, and whatever you
can send us will be highly acceptable. It is lucky that Northmoor is
a born nurse, for the women's fear of breaking the child is really
justifiable, as they never handled anything not made up into a mummy;
moreover, they wish to let all the world up into Mary's room to
behold the curiosity, I met the priest upon his way and turned him
back! So we have pretty well all the nursing on our hands, and
happily it is of the most satisfactory kind, with the one drawback
that we have to call in the services of a 'valia'; but on the other
hand we have all been so much interested in a poor little widow,
Hedwig Grantzen, whose husband was lost last spring in a snow-storm,
that it is pleasant to have some employment for her. Such a creature
as came over on chance and speculation-a great coarse handsome girl,
in exaggerated costume, all new, with lacy ribbons down her back; but
I rode over to Botzen, and interviewed her parish priest about her,
and that was enough to settle her. Every one is asleep except
myself, and Mary's face is one smile as she sleeps.
'This is going to be posted by the last of the tourists, luckily a
clergyman, whom we begged to baptize the boy, as there is a
possibility that snows may close us in before we can get away.
'So he is named Michael Kenton, partly after my own dear brother as
well as the old founder, partly in honour of the day and of Sir
Edward Kenton, who, they say, has been their very kind friend. It
really is a feast to see people so wonderingly happy and thankful.
The little creature has all the zest of novelty to them, and they coo
and marvel over it in perfect felicity. When you will be introduced
to the hero, I cannot guess, for though he has been an earlier
arrival than his mother's inexperience expected, I much doubt her
being able to get out of this place while the way to Botzen is
passable according to the prognostics of the sages. What splendid
studies of ice peaks I shall have! Your affectionate cousin,
'L. BURY.'
A telegram had preceded the letter. One soon followed by Mrs. Bury's promised note had filled Constance's honest little heart with rapture, another had set all the bells in Northmoor Church ringing and Best rejoicing that 'that there Harbut's nose was put out of joint,' a feeling wherein Lady Adela could not but participate, though, of course, she showed no sign of it to Constance. A sharply-worded letter to the girl soon came from her mother, demanding what she had known beforehand. Mrs. Morton had plainly been quite unprepared for what was a severe blow to her, and it was quite possible to understand how, in his shyness, Lord Northmoor had put off writing of the hope and expectation from day to day till all had been fulfilled sooner than had been expected.
It was the first thing that brought home to Constance that the event was scarcely as delightful to her family as to herself. She wrote what she knew and heard no more, for none of her home family were apt to favour her with much correspondence. Miss Morton, however, had written to her sister-in-law.
'Poor Herbert! I am sorry for him, though you won't be. He takes it very well, he really is a very good sort at bottom, and it really is the very best thing for him, as I have been trying to persuade him.'
Bulletins came with tolerable frequency from Ratzes, with all good accounts of mother and child, and a particular description of little Michael's beauties; but it was only too soon announced that snow was falling, and this was soon followed by another letter saying that consultation with the best authorities within reach had decided that unless the weather were extraordinarily mild, the journey, after November set in, was not to be ventured by Lady Northmoor or so young a child. There would be perils for any one, even the postmen and the guides, and if it were mild in one valley it might only render it more dangerous over the next Alp. Still Mrs. Bury, a practised and enterprising mountaineer, might have attempted it; but though Mary was rapidly recovering and the language was no longer utterly impracticable, the good lady could not bear to desert her charges, or to think what might happen to them, if left alone, in case of illness or accident, so she devoted herself to them and to her studies of ice and snow, and wrote word to her family that they were to think of her as hibernating till Easter, if not Whitsuntide.