CHAPTER XXVMarcia hurried down to her own house early one morning. The phantoms of her experiences in the old Green Tavern were pursuing her.Once there she could do nothing but go over and over the dreadful things that Harry Temple had said. In vain did she try to work. She went into the library and took up a book, but her mind would wander to David.She sat down at the piano and played a few tender chords and sang an old Italian song which somebody had left at their house several years before:“Dearest, believe,When e’er we part:Lonely I grieve,In my sad heart:—”With a sob her head dropped upon her hands in one sad little crash of wailing tones, while the sound died away in reverberation after reverberation of the strings till Marcia felt as if a sea of sound were about her in soft ebbing, flowing waves.The sound covered the lifting of the side door latch and the quiet step of a foot. Marcia was absorbed in her own thoughts. Her smothered sobs were mingling with the dying sounds of the music, still audible to her fine ear.David had come by instinct to his own home first. He felt that Marcia would be there, and now that he was come and the morning sun flooded everything and made home look so good he felt that he must find her first of all before his relationship with home had been re-established. He passed through kitchen, dining room and hall, and by the closed parlor door.He never thought of her being in there with the door closed. He glanced into the library and saw the book lying in his chair as she had left it, and it gave a touch of her presence which pleased him. He went softly toward the stairs thinking to find her. He had stopped at a shop the last thing and bought a beautiful creamy shawl of China crêpe heavily embroidered, and finished with long silken fringe. He had taken it from his carpet-bag and was carrying it in its rice paper wrappings lest it should be crushed. He was pleased as a child at the present he had brought her, and felt strangely shy about giving it to her.Just then there came a sound from the parlor, sweet and tender and plaintive. Marcia had conquered her sobs and was singing again with her whole soul, singing as if she were singing to David. The words drew him strangely, wonderingly toward the parlor door, yet so softly that he heard every syllable.“Dearest, believe,When e’er we part:Lonely I grieve,In my sad heart:—Thy faithful slave,Languishing sighs,Haste then and save—”Here the words trailed away again into a half sob, and the melody continued in broken, halting chords that flickered out and faded into the shadows of the room.David’s heart was pierced with a belief that Aunt Clarinda was right and something was the matter with Marcia. A great trouble and tenderness, and almost jealousy, leaped up in his heart which were incomprehensible to him. Who was Marcia singing this song for? That it was a true cry from a lonely soul he could but believe. Was she feeling her prison-bars here in the lonely old house with only a forlorn manwhose life and love had been thrown away upon another? Poor child! Poor child! If he might but save her from suffering, cover her with his own tenderness and make her content with that. Would it be possible if he devoted himself to it to make her forget the one for whom she was sighing; to bring peace and a certain sort of sweet forgetfulness and interest in other things into her life? He wanted to make a new life for her, his little girl whom he had so unthinkingly torn from the home nest and her future, and compelled to take up his barren way with him. He would make it up to her if such a thing were possible. Then he opened the door.In the soft green light of the noonday coming through the shades Marcia’s color did not show as it flew into her cheeks. Her hands grew weak and dropped upon the keys with a soft little tinkle of surprise and joy. She sprang up and came a step toward him, then clasped her hands against her breast and stopped shyly. David coming into the room, questioning, wondering, anxious, stopped midway too, and for an instant they looked upon one another. David saw a new look in the girl’s face. She seemed older, much older than when he had left her. The sweet round cheeks were thinner, her mouth drooped sadly, pathetically. For an instant he longed to take her in his arms and kiss her. The longing startled him. So many months he had thought of only Kate in that way, and then had tried to teach himself never to think of Kate or any woman as one to be caressed by him, that it shocked him. He felt that he had been disloyal to himself, to honor,—to Kate—no—not to Kate, he had no call to be loyal to her. She had not been loyal to him ever. Perhaps rather he would have put it loyalty to Love for Love’s sake, love that is worthy to be crowned by a woman’s love.With all these mingling feelings David was embarrassed. He came toward her slowly, trying to be natural, trying to get back his former way with her. He put out his hand stiffly to shake hands as he had done when he left, and timidlyshe put hers into it, yet as their fingers closed there leaped from one to the other a thrill of sweetness, that neither guessed the other knew and each put by in memory for closer inspection as to what it could mean. Their hands clung together longer than either had meant, and there was something pleasant to each in the fact that they were together again. David thought it was just because it was home, rest, and peace, and a relief from his anxiety about Marcia now that he saw she was all right. Marcia knew it was better to have David standing there with his strong fingers about her trembling ones, than to have anything else in the world. But she would not have told him so.“That was a sweet song you were singing,”said David.“I hope you were singing it for me, and that it was true! I am glad I am come home, and you must sing it again for me soon.”It was not in the least what he intended to say, and the words tumbled themselves out so tumultuously that he was almost ashamed and wondered if Marcia would think he had lost his mind in New York. Marcia, dear child, treasured them every word and hugged them to her heart, and carried them in her prayers.They went out together and got dinner as if they had been two children, with a wild excited kind of glee; and they tried to get back their natural ways of doing and saying things, but they could not.Instead they were forever blundering and halting in what they said; coming face to face and almost running over one another as they tried to help each other; laughing and blushing and blundering again.When they each tried to reach for the tea kettle to fill the coffee pot and their fingers touched, each drew back and pretended not to notice, but yet had felt the contact sweet.They were lingering over the dinner when Hannah Heath came to the door. David had been telling of some of hisadventures in detail and was enjoying the play of expression on Marcia’s face as she listened eagerly to every word. They had pushed their chairs back a little and were sitting there talking,—or rather David was talking, Marcia listening. Hannah stood for one jealous instant and saw it all. This was what she had dreamed for her own long years back, she and David. She had questioned much just what feeling there might be between him and Marcia, and now more than ever she desired to bring him face to face with Kate and read for herself what the truth had been. She hated Marcia for that look of intense delight and sympathy upon her face; hated her that she had the right to sit there and hear what David had to say—some stupid stuff about railroads. She did not see that she herself would have made an ill companion for a man like David.As yet neither Marcia nor David had touched upon the subjects which had troubled them. They did not realize it, but they were so suddenly happy in each other’s company they had forgotten for the moment. The pleasant converse was broken up at once. Marcia’s face hardened into something like alarm as she saw who stood in the doorway.“Why, David, have you got home at last?”said Hannah.“I did not know it.”That was an untruth. She had watched him from behind Grandmother Heath’s rose bush.“Where did you come from last? New York? Oh, then you saw Mrs. Leavenworth. How is she? I fell in love with her when I was there.”Now David had never fully taken in Kate’s married name. He knew it of course, but in his present state of happiness at getting home, and his absorption in the work he had been doing, the name“Mrs. Leavenworth”conveyed nothing whatever to David’s mind. He looked blankly at Hannah and replied indifferently enough with a cool air.“No, Miss Hannah, I had no time for social life. I was busy every minute I was away.”David never expected Hannah to say anything worth listening to, and he was so full of his subject that he had not noticed that she made no reply.Hannah watched him curiously as he talked, his remarks after all were directed more to Marcia than to her, and when he paused she said with a contemptuous sneer in her voice,“I never could understand, David, how you who seem to have so much sense in other things will take up with such fanciful, impractical dreams as this railroad. Lemuel says it’ll never run.”Hannah quoted her lover with a proud bridling of her head as if the matter were settled once and for all. It was the first time she had allowed the world to see that she acknowledged her relation to Lemuel. She was not averse to having David understand that she felt there were other men in the world besides himself. But David turned merry eyes on her.“Lemuel says?”he repeated, and he made a sudden movement with his arm which sent a knife and spoon from the table in a clatter upon the floor.“And how much does Lemuel know about the matter?”“Lemuel has good practical common sense,”said Hannah, vexed,“and he knows what is possible and what is not. He does not need to travel all over the country on a wild goose chase to learn that.”Now that she had accepted him Hannah did not intend to allow Lemuel to be discounted.“He has not long to wait to be convinced,”said David thoughtfully and unaware of her tart tone.“Before the year is out it will be a settled fact that every one can see.”“Well, it’s beyond comprehension what you care, anyway,”said Hannah contemptuously.“Did you really spend all your time in New York on such things? It seems incredible. There certainly must have been other attractions?”There was insinuation in Hannah’s voice though it was smooth as butter, but David had had long years of experiencein hearing Hannah Heath’s sharp tongue. He minded it no more than he would have minded the buzzing of a fly. Marcia’s color rose, however. She made a hasty errand to the pantry to put away the bread, and her eyes flashed at Hannah through the close drawn pantry door. But Hannah did not give up so easily.“It is strange you did not stay with Mrs. Leavenworth,”she said.“She told me you were one of her dearest friends, and you used to be quite fond of one another.”Then it suddenly dawned upon David who Mrs. Leavenworth was, and a sternness overspread his face.“Mrs. Leavenworth, did you say? Ah! I did not understand. I saw her but once and that for only a few minutes soon after I first arrived. I did not see her again.”His voice was cool and steady. Marcia coming from the pantry with set face, ready for defence if there was any she could give, marvelled at his coolness. Her heart was gripped with fear, and yet leaping with joy at David’s words. He had not seen Kate but once. He had known she was there and yet had kept away. Hannah’s insinuations were false. Mr. Temple’s words were untrue. She had known it all the time, yet what sorrow they had given her!“By the way, Marcia,”said David, turning toward her with a smile that seemed to erase the sternness in his voice but a moment before.“Did you not write me some news? Miss Hannah, you are to be congratulated I believe. Lemuel is a good man. I wish you much happiness.”And thus did David, with a pleasant speech, turn aside Hannah Heath’s dart. Yet while she went from the house with a smile and a sound of pleasant wishes in her ears, she carried with her a bitter heart and a revengeful one.David was suddenly brought face to face with the thing he had to tell Marcia. He sat watching her as she went back and forth from pantry to kitchen, and at last he came and stood beside her and took her hands in his looking down earnestlyinto her face. It seemed terrible to him to tell this thing to the innocent girl, now, just when he was growing anxious to win her confidence, but it must be told, and better now than later lest he might be tempted not to tell it at all.“Marcia!”He said the name tenderly, with an inflection he had never used before. It was not lover-like, nor passionate, but it reached her heart and drew her eyes to his and the color to her cheeks. She thought how different his clasp was from Harry Temple’s hateful touch. She looked up at him trustingly, and waited.“You heard what I said to Hannah Heath just now, about—your——”He paused, dissatisfied—“about Mrs. Leavenworth”—it was as if he would set the subject of his words far from them. Marcia’s heart beat wildly, remembering all that she had been told, yet she looked bravely, trustingly into his eyes.“It was true what I told her. I met Mrs. Leavenworth but once while I was away. It was in her own home and she sent for me saying she was in trouble. She told me that she was in terrible anxiety lest I would not forgive her. She begged me to say that I forgave her, and when I told her I did she asked me to kiss her once to prove it. I was utterly overcome and did so, but the moment my lips touched hers I knew that I was doing wrong and I put her from me. She begged me to remain, and I now know that she was utterly false from the first. It was but a part she was playing when she touched my heart until I yielded and sinned. I have only learned that recently, within a few days, and from words written by her own hand to another. I will tell you about it all sometime. But I want to confess to you this wrong I have done, and to let you know that I went away from her that day and have never seen her since. She had said she was without money, and I left her all I had with me. I know now that that too was unwise,—perhaps wrong. I feel that all this was a sin against you. I would like you to forgive me if you can, andI want you to know that this other woman who was the cause of our coming together, and yet has separated us ever since we have been together, is no longer anything to me. Even if she and I were both free as we were when we first met, we could never be anything but strangers. Can you forgive me now, Marcia, and can you ever trust me after what I have told you?”Marcia looked into his eyes, and loved him but the more for his confession. She felt she could forgive him anything, and her whole soul in her countenance answered with her voice, as she said:“I can.”It made David think of their wedding day, and suddenly it came over him with a thrill that this sweet womanly woman belonged to him. He marvelled at her sweet forgiveness. The joy of it surprised him beyond measure.“You have had some sad experiences yourself. Will you tell me now all about it?”He asked the question wistfully still holding her hands in a firm close grasp, and she let them lie nestling there feeling safe as birds in the nest.“Why, how did you know?”questioned Marcia, her whole face flooded with rosy light for joy at his kind ways and relief that she did not have to open the story.“Oh, a little bird, or a guardian angel whispered the tale,”he said pleasantly.“Come into the room where we can be sure no Hannah Heaths will trouble us,”and he drew her into the library and seated her beside him on the sofa.“But, indeed, Marcia,”and his face sobered,“it is no light matter to me, what has happened to you. I have been in an agony all the way home lest I might not find you safe and well after having escaped so terrible a danger.”He drew the whole story from her bit by bit, tenderly questioning her, his face blazing with righteous wrath, and darkening with his wider knowledge as she told on to the end, and showed him plainly the black heart of the villain who had dared so diabolical a conspiracy; and the inhumanity of thewoman who had helped in the intrigue against her own sister,—nay even instigated it. His feelings were too deep for utterance. He was shaken to the depths. His new comprehension of Kate’s character was confirmed at the worst. Marcia could only guess his deep feelings from his shaken countenance and the earnest way in which he folded his hands over hers and said in low tones filled with emotion:“We should be deeply thankful to God for saving you, and I must be very careful of you after this. That villain shall be searched out and punished if it takes a lifetime, and Miranda,—what shall we do for Miranda? Perhaps we can induce her grandmother to let us have her sometime to help take care of us. We seem to be unable to get on without her. We’ll see what we can do sometime in return for the great service she has rendered.”But the old clock striking in the hall suddenly reminded David that he should go at once to the office, so he hurried away and Marcia set about her work with energy, a happy song of praise in her heart.There was much to be done. David had said he would scarcely have time to go over to his aunts that night, so she had decided to invite them to tea. She would far rather have had David to herself this first evening, but it would please them to come, especially Aunt Clarinda. There was not much time to prepare supper to be sure, but she would stir up a gingerbread, make some puffy cream biscuits, and there was lovely white honey and fresh eggs and peach preserves.So she ran to Deacon Appleby’s to get some cream for her biscuits and to ask Tommy Appleby to harness David’s horse and drive over for Aunt Clarinda. Then she hurried down to the aunts to give her invitation.Aunt Clarinda sat down in her calico-covered rocking chair, wiped her dear old eyes and her glasses, and said, over and over again:“Dear child! Bless her! Bless her!”It was a happy gathering that evening. David was as pleased as they could have desired, and looked about uponthe group in the dining-room with genuine boyish pleasure. It did his heart good to see Aunt Clarinda there. It had never occurred to him before that she could come. He turned to Marcia with a light in his eyes that fully repaid her for the little trouble she had had in carrying out her plan. He began to feel that home meant something even though he had lost the home of his long dreams and ideals.He talked a great deal about his trip, and in between the sentences, he caught himself watching Marcia, noting the curve of her round chin, the dimple in her left cheek when she smiled, the way her hair waved off from her forehead, the pink curves of her well-shaped ears. He found a distinct pleasure in noting these things and he wondered at himself. It was as if he had suddenly been placed before some great painting and become possessed of the knowledge wherewith to appreciate art to its fullest. It was as if he had heard a marvellous piece of music and had the eyes and ears of his understanding opened to take in the gracious melodies and majestic harmonies.Aunt Clarinda watched his eyes, and Aunt Clarinda was satisfied. Aunt Hortense watched his eyes, jealously and sighed. Aunt Amelia watched his eyes and set her lips and feared to herself.“He will spoil her if he does like that. She will think she can walk right over him.”But Aunt Clarinda knew better. She recognized the eternal right of love.They took the three old ladies home in the rising of an early moon, Marcia walking demurely on the sidewalk with Aunt Amelia, while David drove the chaise with Aunt Clarinda and Aunt Hortense.As he gently lifted Aunt Clarinda down and helped her to her room David felt her old hands tremble and press his arm, and when he had reached her door he stooped and kissed her.“Davie,”she said in the voice that used to comfort his little childish troubles, or tell him of some nice surprise shehad for him,“Davie, she’s a dear child! She’s just as good as gold. She’s the princess I used to put in all your fairy-tales. David, she’s just the right one for you!”and David answered earnestly, solemnly, as if he were discovering a truth which surprised him but yet was not unwelcome.“I believe she is, Aunt Clarinda.”They drove to the barn and Marcia sat in the chaise in the sweet hay-scented darkness while David put up the horse by the cobwebby light of the lantern; then they walked quietly back to the house. David had drawn Marcia’s hand through his arm and it rested softly on his coat sleeve. She was silently happy, she knew not why, afraid to think of it lest to-morrow would show her there was nothing out of the ordinary monotony to be happy about.David was silent, wondering at himself. What was this that had come to him? A new pleasure in life. A little trembling rill of joy bubbling up in his heart; a rift in the dark clouds of fate; a show of sunshine where he had expected never to see the light again. Why was it so pleasant to have that little hand resting upon his arm? Was it really pleasant or was it only a part of the restfulness of getting home again away from strange faces and uncomfortable beds, and poor tables?They let themselves into the house as if they were walking into a new world together and both were glad to be there again. When she got up to her room Marcia went and stood before the glass and looked at herself by the flickering flame of the candle. Her eyes were bright and her cheeks burned red in the centre like two soft deep roses. She felt she hardly knew herself. She tried to be critical. Was this person she was examining a pretty person? Would she be called so in comparison with Kate and Hannah Heath? Would a man,—would David,—if his heart were not filled,—think so? She decided not. She felt she was too immature. There was too much shyness in her glance, too much babyishness about hermouth. No, David could never have thought her beautiful, even if he had seen her before he knew Kate. But perhaps, if Kate had been married first and away and then he had come to their home, perhaps if he knew no one else well enough to love,—could he have cared for her?Oh, it was a dreadful, beautiful thought. It thrilled through and through her till she hid her face from her own gaze. She suddenly kissed the hand that had rested on his sleeve, and then reproached herself for it. She loved him, but was it right to do so?As for David, he was sitting on the side of his bed with his chin in his hands examining himself.He had supposed that with the reading of those letters which had come to him but two short days before all possibility of love and happiness had died, but lo! he found himself thrilling with pleasure over the look in a girl’s soft eyes, and the touch of her hand. And that girl was his wife. It was enough to keep him awake to try to understand himself.CHAPTER XXVIHannah Heath’s wedding day dawned bright enough for a less calculating bride.David did not get home until half past three. He had been obliged to drive out to the starting place of the new railroad, near Albany, where it was important that he get a few points correctly. On the morrow was to be the initial trip, by the Mohawk and Hudson Railroad, of the first train drawn by a steam engine in the state of New York.His article about it, bargained for by a New York paper, must be on its way by special post as soon after the starting of the train as possible. He must have all items accurate;technicalities of preparation; description of engine and coaches; details of arrangements, etc.; before he added the final paragraphs describing the actual start of the train. His article was practically done now, save for these few items. He had started early that morning on his long drive, and, being detained longer than he had expected, arrived at home with barely time to put himself into wedding garments, and hasten in at the last moment with Marcia who stood quietly waiting for him in the front hall. They were the last guests to arrive. It was time for the ceremony, but the bride, true to her nature to the last, still kept Lemuel waiting; and Lemuel, true to the end, stood smiling and patient awaiting her pleasure.David and Marcia entered the wide parlor and shook hands here and there with those assembled, though for the most part a hushed air pervaded the room, as it always does when something is about to happen.Soon after their arrival some one in purple silk came down the stairs and seated herself in a vacant chair close to wherethe bride was to stand. She had gold hair and eyes like forget-me-nots. She was directly opposite to David and Marcia. David was engrossed in a whispered conversation with Mr. Brentwood about the events of the morrow, and did not notice her entrance, though she paused in the doorway and searched him directly from amongst the company before she took her seat. Marcia, who was talking with Rose Brentwood, caught the vision of purple and gold and turned to face for one brief instant the scornful, half-merry glance of her sister. The blood in her face fled back to her heart and left it white.Then Marcia summoned all her courage and braced herself to face what was to come. She forced herself to smile in answer to Rose Brentwood’s question. But all the while she was trying to understand what it was in her sister’s look that had hurt her so. It was not the anger,—for that she was prepared. It was not the scorn, for she had often faced that. Was it the almost merriment? Yes, there was the sting. She had felt it so keenly when as a little girl Kate had taken to making fun of some whim of hers. She could not see why Kate should find cause for fun just now. It was as if she by her look ignored Marcia’s relation to David in scornful laugh and appropriated him herself. Marcia’s inmost soul rebelled. The color came back as if by force of her will. She would show Kate,—or she would show David at least,—that she could bear all things for him. She would play well her part of wife this day. The happy two months that had passed since David came back from New York had made her almost feel as if she was really his and he hers. For this hour she would forget that it was otherwise. She would look at him and speak to him as if he had been her husband for years, as if there were the truest understanding between them,—as indeed, of a certain wistful, pleasant sort there was. She would not let the dreadful thought of Kate cloud her face for others to see. Bravely she faced the company, but her heart under Kate’s blue frock sent up a swift and pleadingprayer demanding of a higher Power something she knew she had not in herself, and must therefore find in Him who had created her. It was the most trustful, and needy prayer that Marcia ever uttered and yet there were no words, not even the closing of an eyelid. Only her heart took the attitude of prayer.The door upstairs opened in a business-like way, and Hannah’s composed voice was heard giving a direction. Hannah’s silken tread began to be audible. Miranda told Marcia afterward that she kept her standing at the window for an hour beforehand to see when David arrived, and when they started over to the house. Hannah kept herself posted on what was going on in the room below as well as if she were down there. She knew where David and Marcia stood, and told Kate exactly where to go. It was like Hannah that in the moment of her sacrifice of the long cherished hopes of her life she should have planned a dramatic revenge to help carry her through.The bride’s rustle became at last so audible that even David and Mr. Brentwood heard and turned from their absorbing conversation to the business in hand.Hannah was in the doorway when David looked up, very cold and beautiful in her bridal array despite the years she had waited, and almost at once David saw the vision in purple and gold like a saucy pansy, standing near her.Kate’s eyes were fixed upon him with their most bewitching, dancing smile of recognition, like a naughty little child who had been in hiding for a time and now peeps out laughing over the discomfiture of its elders. So Kate encountered the steadfast gaze of David’s astonished eyes.But there was no light of love in those eyes as she had expected to see. Instead there grew in his face such a blaze of righteous indignation as the lord of the wedding feast might have turned upon the person who came in without a wedding garment. In spite of herself Kate was disconcerted. Shewas astonished. She felt that David was challenging her presence there. It seemed to her he was looking through her, searching her, judging her, sentencing her, and casting her out, and presently his eyes wandered beyond her through the open hall door and out into God’s green world; and when they came back and next rested upon her his look had frozen into the glance of a stranger.Angry, ashamed, baffled, she bit her lips in vexation, but tried to keep the merry smile. In her heart she hated him, and vowed to make him bow before her smiles once more.David did not see the bride at all to notice her, but the bride, unlike the one of the psalmist’s vision whose eyes were upon“her dear bridegroom’s face,”was looking straight across the room with evident intent to observe David.The ceremony proceeded, and Hannah went through her part correctly and calmly, aware that she was giving herself to Lemuel Skinner irrevocably, yet perfectly aware also of the discomfiture of the sweet-faced girl-wife who sat across the room bravely watching the ceremony with white cheeks and eyes that shone like righteous lights.Marcia did not look at David. She was with him in heart, suffering with him, feeling for him, quivering in every nerve for what he might be enduring. She had no need to look. Her part was to ignore, and help to cover.They went through it all well. Not once did Aunt Amelia or Aunt Hortense notice anything strange in the demeanor of their nephew or his wife. Aunt Clarinda was not there. She was not fond of Hannah.As soon as the service was over and the relatives had broken the solemn hush by kissing the bride, David turned and spoke to Rose Brentwood, making some smiling remark about the occasion. Rose Brentwood was looking her very prettiest in a rose-sprigged delaine and her wavy dark hair in a beaded net tied round with a rose-colored lute-string ribbon.Kate flushed angrily at this. If it had been Marcia to whom he had spoken she would have judged he did it out of pique, but a pretty stranger coming upon the scene at this critical moment was trying. And then, too, David’s manner was so indifferent, so utterly natural. He did not seem in the least troubled by the sight of herself.David and Marcia did not go up to speak to the bride at once. David stepped back into the deep window seat to talk with Mr. Brentwood, and seemed to be in no hurry to follow the procession who were filing past the calm bride to congratulate her. Marcia remained quietly talking to Rose Brentwood.At last David turned toward his wife with a smile as though he had known she was there all the time, and had felt her sympathy. Her heart leaped up with new strength at that look, and her husband’s firm touch as he drew her hand within his arm to lead her over to the bride gave her courage. She felt that she could face the battle, and with a bright smile that lit up her whole lovely face she marched bravely to the front to do or to die.“I had about given up expecting any congratulations from you,”said Hannah sharply as they came near. It was quite evident she had been watching for them.“I wish you much joy, Mrs. Skinner,”said David mechanically, scarcely feeling that she would have it for he knew her unhappy, dissatisfied nature.“Yes,”said Marcia,“I wish you may be happy,—as happy as I am!”It was an impetuous, childish thing to say, and Marcia scarcely realized what words she meant to speak until they were out, and then she blushed rosy red. Was she happy? Why was she happy? Yes, even in the present trying circumstances she suddenly felt a great deep happiness bubbling up in her heart. Was it David’s look and his strong arm under her hand?Hannah darted a look at her. She was stung by the words. But did the girl-bride before her mean to flaunt her own triumphs in her face? Did she fully understand? Or was she trying to act a part and make them believe she was happy? Hannah was baffled once more as she had been before with Marcia.Kate turned upon Marcia for one piercing instant again, that look of understanding, mocking merriment, which cut through the soul of her sister.But did Marcia imagine it, or was it true that at her words to Hannah, David’s arm had pressed hers closer as they stood there in the crowd? The thought thrilled through her and gave her greater strength.Hannah turned toward Kate.“David,”she said, as she had always called him, and it is possible that she enjoyed the triumph of this touch of intimacy before her guest,“you knew my friend Mrs. Leavenworth!”David bowed gravely, but did not attempt to put out his hand to take the one which Kate offered in greeting. Instead he laid it over Marcia’s little trembling one on his arm as if to steady it.“We have met before,”said David briefly in an impenetrable tone, and turning passed out of the room to make way for the Brentwoods who were behind him.Hannah scarcely treated the Brentwoods with decency, so vexed was she with the way things were turning out. To think that David should so completely baffle her. She turned an annoyed look at Kate, who flashed her blue eyes contemptuously as if to blame Hannah.Soon the whole little gathering were in the dining-room and wide hall being served with Grandmother Heath’s fried chicken and currant jelly, delicate soda biscuits, and fruit cake baked months before and left to ripen.The ordeal through which they were passing made Davidand Marcia feel, as they sat down, that they would not be able to swallow a mouthful, but strangely enough they found themselves eating with relish, each to encourage the other perhaps, but almost enjoying it, and feeling that they had not yet met more than they would be able to withstand.Kate was seated on the other side of the dining-room, by Hannah, and she watched the two incessantly with that half merry contemptuous look, toying with her own food, and apparently waiting for their acting to cease and David to put on his true character. She never doubted for an instant that they were acting.The wedding supper was over at last. The guests crowded out to the front stoop to bid good-bye to the happy bridegroom and cross-looking bride, who seemed as if she left the gala scene reluctantly.Marcia, for the instant, was separated from David, who stepped down upon the grass and stood to one side to let the bridal party pass. The minister was at the other side. Marcia had slipped into the shelter of Aunt Amelia’s black silk presence and wished she might run out the back door and away home.Suddenly a shimmer of gold with the sunlight through it caught her gaze, and a glimpse of sheeny purple. There, close behind David, standing upon the top step, quite unseen by him, stood her sister Kate.Marcia’s heart gave a quick thump and seemed to stop, then went painfully laboring on. She stood quite still watching for the moment to come when David would turn around and see Kate that she might look into his face and read there what was written.Hannah had been put carefully into the carriage by the adoring Lemuel, with many a pat, and a shaking of cushions, and an adjustment of curtains to suit her whim. It pleased Hannah, now in her last lingering moment of freedom, to be exacting and show others what a slave her husband was.They all stood for an instant looking after the carriage, but Marcia watched David. Then, just as the carriage wound around the curve in the road and was lost from view, she saw him turn, and at once knew she must not see his face as he looked at Kate. Closing her eyes like a flash she turned and fled upstairs to get her shawl and bonnet. There she took refuge behind the great white curtains, and hid her face for several minutes, praying wildly, she hardly knew what, thankful she had been kept from the sight which yet she had longed to behold.As David turned to go up the steps and search for Marcia he was confronted by Kate’s beautiful, smiling face, radiant as it used to be when it had first charmed him. He exulted, as he looked into it, that it did not any longer charm.“David, you don’t seem a bit glad to see me,”blamed Kate sweetly in her pretty, childish tones, looking into his face with those blue eyes so like to liquid skies. Almost there was a hint of tears in them. He had been wont to kiss them when she looked like that. Now he felt only disgust as some of the flippant sentences in her letters to Harry Temple came to his mind.His face was stern and unrecognizing.“David, you are angry with me yet! You said you would forgive!”The gentle reproach minimized the crime, and enlarged the punishment. It was Kate’s way. The pretty pout on the rosy lips was the same as it used to be when she chided him for some trifling forgetfulness of her wishes.The other guests had all gone into the house now. David made no response, but, nothing daunted, Kate spoke again.“I have something very important to consult you about. I came here on purpose. Can you give me some time to-morrow morning?”She wrinkled her pretty face into a thousand dimples and looked her most bewitching like a naughty child who knew she was loved in spite of anything, and coquettishly puttingher head on one side, added, in the tone she used of old to cajole him:“You know you never could refuse me anything, David.”David did not smile. He did not answer the look. With a voice that recognized her only as a stranger he said gravely:“I have an important engagement to-morrow morning.”“But you will put off the engagement.”She said it confidently.“It is impossible!”said David decidedly.“I am starting quite early to drive over to Albany. I am under obligation to be present at the starting of the new steam railroad.”“Oh, how nice!”said Kate, clapping her hands childishly,“I have wanted to be there, and now you will take me. Then I—we—can talk on the way. How like old times that will be!”She flashed him a smile of molten sunshine, alluring and transforming.“That, too, is impossible, Mrs. Leavenworth. My wife accompanies me!”he answered her promptly and clearly and with a curt bow left her and went into the house.Kate Leavenworth was angry, and for Kate to be angry, meant to visit it upon some one, the offender if possible, if not the nearest to the offender. She had failed utterly in her attempt to win back the friendship of her former lover. She had hoped to enjoy his attention to a certain extent and bathe her sad (?) heart in the wistful glances of the man she had jilted; and incidentally perhaps be invited to spend a little time in his house, by which she would contrive to have a good many of her own ways. A rich brother-in-law who adored one was not a bad thing to have, especially when his wife was one’s own little sister whom one had always dominated. She was tired of New York and at this season of the year the country was much preferable. She could thus contrive to hoard her small income, and save for the next winter, as well as secure a possible entrance finally into her father’s good graces again through the forgiveness of Davidand Marcia. But she had failed. Could it be that he cared for Marcia! That child! Scout the idea! She would discover at once.Hurriedly she searched through the rooms downstairs and then went stealthily upstairs. Instinctively she went to the room where Marcia had hidden herself.Marcia, with that strong upward breath of prayer had grown steady again. She was standing with her back to the door looking out of the window toward her own home when Kate entered the room. Without turning about she felt Kate’s presence and knew that it was she. The moment had come. She turned around, her face calm and sweet, with two red spots upon her cheeks, and her bonnet,—Kate’s bonnet and shawl, Kate’s fine lace shawl sent from Paris—grasped in her hands.They faced each other, the sisters, and much was understood between them in a flash without a word spoken. Marcia suddenly saw herself standing there in Kate’s rightful place, Kate’s things in her hands, Kate’s garments upon her body, Kate’s husband held by her. It was as if Kate charged her with all these things, as she looked her through and over, from her slipper tips to the ruffle around the neck. And oh, the scorn that flamed from Kate’s eyes playing over her, and scorching her cheeks into crimson, and burning her lips dry and stiff! And yet when Kate’s eyes reached her face and charged her with the supreme offense of taking David from her, Marcia’s eyes looked bravely back, and were not burned by the fire, and she felt that her soul was not even scorched by it. Something about the thought of David like an angelic presence seemed to save her.The silence between them was so intense that nothing else could be heard by the two. The voices below were drowned by it, the footstep on the stair was as if it were not.At last Kate spoke, angered still more by her sister’s soft eyes which gazed steadily back and did not droop before herown flashing onslaught. Her voice was cold and cruel. There was nothing sisterly in it, nothing to remind either that the other had ever been beloved.“Fool!”hissed Kate.“Silly fool! Did you think you could steal a husband as you stole your clothes? Did you suppose marrying David would make him yours, as putting on my clothes seemed to make them yours? Well I can tell you he will never be a husband to you. He doesn’t love you and he never can. He will always love me. He’s as much mine as if I had married him, in spite of all your attempts to take him. Oh, you needn’t put up your baby mouth and pucker it as if you were going to cry. Cry away. It won’t do any good. You can’t make a man yours, any more than you can make somebody’s clothes yours. They don’t fit you any more than he does. You look horrid in blue, and you know it, in spite of all your prinking around and pretending. I’d be ashamed to be tricked out that way and know that every dud I had was made for somebody else. As for going around and pretending you have a husband—it’s a lie. You know he’s nothing to you. You know he never told you he cared for you. I tell you he’s mine, and he always will be.”“Kate, you’re married!”cried Marcia in shocked tones.“How can you talk like that?”“Married! Nonsense! What difference does that make? It’s hearts that count, not marriages. Has your marriage made you a wife? Answer me that! Has it? Does David love you? Does he ever kiss you? Yet he came to see me in New York this winter, and took me in his arms and kissed me. He gave me money too. See this brooch?”—she exhibited a jeweled pin—“that was bought with his money. You see he loves me still. I could bring him to my feet with a word to-day. He would kiss me if I asked him. He is weak as water in my hands.”Marcia’s cheeks burned with shame and anger. Almost she felt at the limit of her strength. For the first time inher life she felt like striking,—striking her own sister. Horrified over her feelings, and the rage which was tearing her soul, she looked up, and there stood David in the doorway, like some tall avenging angel!Kate had her back that way and did not see at once, but Marcia’s eyes rested on him hungrily, pleadingly, and his answered hers. From her sudden calmness Kate saw there was some one near, and turning, looked at David. But he did not glance her way. How much or how little he had heard of Kate’s tirade, which in her passion had been keyed in a high voice, he never let them know and neither dared to ask him, lest perhaps he had not heard anything. There was a light of steel in his eyes toward everything but Marcia, and his tone had in it kindness and a recognition of mutual understanding as he said:“If you are ready we had better go now, dear, had we not?”Oh how gladly Marcia followed her husband down the stairs and out the door! She scarcely knew how she went through the formalities of getting away. It seemed as she looked back upon them that David had sheltered her from it all, and said everything needful for her, and all she had done was to smile an assent. He talked calmly to her all the way home; told her Mr. Brentwood’s opinion about the change in the commerce of the country the new railroad was going to make; told her though he must have known she could not listen. Perhaps both were conscious of the bedroom window over the way and a pair of blue eyes that might be watching them as they passed into the house. David took hold of her arm and helped her up the steps of their own home as if she had been some great lady. Marcia wondered if Kate saw that. In her heart she blessed David for this outward sign of their relationship. It gave her shame a little cover at least. She glanced up toward the next house as she passed in and felt sure she saw a glimmer of purple move away from the window. Then David shut the door behind them and led her gently in.
CHAPTER XXVMarcia hurried down to her own house early one morning. The phantoms of her experiences in the old Green Tavern were pursuing her.Once there she could do nothing but go over and over the dreadful things that Harry Temple had said. In vain did she try to work. She went into the library and took up a book, but her mind would wander to David.She sat down at the piano and played a few tender chords and sang an old Italian song which somebody had left at their house several years before:“Dearest, believe,When e’er we part:Lonely I grieve,In my sad heart:—”With a sob her head dropped upon her hands in one sad little crash of wailing tones, while the sound died away in reverberation after reverberation of the strings till Marcia felt as if a sea of sound were about her in soft ebbing, flowing waves.The sound covered the lifting of the side door latch and the quiet step of a foot. Marcia was absorbed in her own thoughts. Her smothered sobs were mingling with the dying sounds of the music, still audible to her fine ear.David had come by instinct to his own home first. He felt that Marcia would be there, and now that he was come and the morning sun flooded everything and made home look so good he felt that he must find her first of all before his relationship with home had been re-established. He passed through kitchen, dining room and hall, and by the closed parlor door.He never thought of her being in there with the door closed. He glanced into the library and saw the book lying in his chair as she had left it, and it gave a touch of her presence which pleased him. He went softly toward the stairs thinking to find her. He had stopped at a shop the last thing and bought a beautiful creamy shawl of China crêpe heavily embroidered, and finished with long silken fringe. He had taken it from his carpet-bag and was carrying it in its rice paper wrappings lest it should be crushed. He was pleased as a child at the present he had brought her, and felt strangely shy about giving it to her.Just then there came a sound from the parlor, sweet and tender and plaintive. Marcia had conquered her sobs and was singing again with her whole soul, singing as if she were singing to David. The words drew him strangely, wonderingly toward the parlor door, yet so softly that he heard every syllable.“Dearest, believe,When e’er we part:Lonely I grieve,In my sad heart:—Thy faithful slave,Languishing sighs,Haste then and save—”Here the words trailed away again into a half sob, and the melody continued in broken, halting chords that flickered out and faded into the shadows of the room.David’s heart was pierced with a belief that Aunt Clarinda was right and something was the matter with Marcia. A great trouble and tenderness, and almost jealousy, leaped up in his heart which were incomprehensible to him. Who was Marcia singing this song for? That it was a true cry from a lonely soul he could but believe. Was she feeling her prison-bars here in the lonely old house with only a forlorn manwhose life and love had been thrown away upon another? Poor child! Poor child! If he might but save her from suffering, cover her with his own tenderness and make her content with that. Would it be possible if he devoted himself to it to make her forget the one for whom she was sighing; to bring peace and a certain sort of sweet forgetfulness and interest in other things into her life? He wanted to make a new life for her, his little girl whom he had so unthinkingly torn from the home nest and her future, and compelled to take up his barren way with him. He would make it up to her if such a thing were possible. Then he opened the door.In the soft green light of the noonday coming through the shades Marcia’s color did not show as it flew into her cheeks. Her hands grew weak and dropped upon the keys with a soft little tinkle of surprise and joy. She sprang up and came a step toward him, then clasped her hands against her breast and stopped shyly. David coming into the room, questioning, wondering, anxious, stopped midway too, and for an instant they looked upon one another. David saw a new look in the girl’s face. She seemed older, much older than when he had left her. The sweet round cheeks were thinner, her mouth drooped sadly, pathetically. For an instant he longed to take her in his arms and kiss her. The longing startled him. So many months he had thought of only Kate in that way, and then had tried to teach himself never to think of Kate or any woman as one to be caressed by him, that it shocked him. He felt that he had been disloyal to himself, to honor,—to Kate—no—not to Kate, he had no call to be loyal to her. She had not been loyal to him ever. Perhaps rather he would have put it loyalty to Love for Love’s sake, love that is worthy to be crowned by a woman’s love.With all these mingling feelings David was embarrassed. He came toward her slowly, trying to be natural, trying to get back his former way with her. He put out his hand stiffly to shake hands as he had done when he left, and timidlyshe put hers into it, yet as their fingers closed there leaped from one to the other a thrill of sweetness, that neither guessed the other knew and each put by in memory for closer inspection as to what it could mean. Their hands clung together longer than either had meant, and there was something pleasant to each in the fact that they were together again. David thought it was just because it was home, rest, and peace, and a relief from his anxiety about Marcia now that he saw she was all right. Marcia knew it was better to have David standing there with his strong fingers about her trembling ones, than to have anything else in the world. But she would not have told him so.“That was a sweet song you were singing,”said David.“I hope you were singing it for me, and that it was true! I am glad I am come home, and you must sing it again for me soon.”It was not in the least what he intended to say, and the words tumbled themselves out so tumultuously that he was almost ashamed and wondered if Marcia would think he had lost his mind in New York. Marcia, dear child, treasured them every word and hugged them to her heart, and carried them in her prayers.They went out together and got dinner as if they had been two children, with a wild excited kind of glee; and they tried to get back their natural ways of doing and saying things, but they could not.Instead they were forever blundering and halting in what they said; coming face to face and almost running over one another as they tried to help each other; laughing and blushing and blundering again.When they each tried to reach for the tea kettle to fill the coffee pot and their fingers touched, each drew back and pretended not to notice, but yet had felt the contact sweet.They were lingering over the dinner when Hannah Heath came to the door. David had been telling of some of hisadventures in detail and was enjoying the play of expression on Marcia’s face as she listened eagerly to every word. They had pushed their chairs back a little and were sitting there talking,—or rather David was talking, Marcia listening. Hannah stood for one jealous instant and saw it all. This was what she had dreamed for her own long years back, she and David. She had questioned much just what feeling there might be between him and Marcia, and now more than ever she desired to bring him face to face with Kate and read for herself what the truth had been. She hated Marcia for that look of intense delight and sympathy upon her face; hated her that she had the right to sit there and hear what David had to say—some stupid stuff about railroads. She did not see that she herself would have made an ill companion for a man like David.As yet neither Marcia nor David had touched upon the subjects which had troubled them. They did not realize it, but they were so suddenly happy in each other’s company they had forgotten for the moment. The pleasant converse was broken up at once. Marcia’s face hardened into something like alarm as she saw who stood in the doorway.“Why, David, have you got home at last?”said Hannah.“I did not know it.”That was an untruth. She had watched him from behind Grandmother Heath’s rose bush.“Where did you come from last? New York? Oh, then you saw Mrs. Leavenworth. How is she? I fell in love with her when I was there.”Now David had never fully taken in Kate’s married name. He knew it of course, but in his present state of happiness at getting home, and his absorption in the work he had been doing, the name“Mrs. Leavenworth”conveyed nothing whatever to David’s mind. He looked blankly at Hannah and replied indifferently enough with a cool air.“No, Miss Hannah, I had no time for social life. I was busy every minute I was away.”David never expected Hannah to say anything worth listening to, and he was so full of his subject that he had not noticed that she made no reply.Hannah watched him curiously as he talked, his remarks after all were directed more to Marcia than to her, and when he paused she said with a contemptuous sneer in her voice,“I never could understand, David, how you who seem to have so much sense in other things will take up with such fanciful, impractical dreams as this railroad. Lemuel says it’ll never run.”Hannah quoted her lover with a proud bridling of her head as if the matter were settled once and for all. It was the first time she had allowed the world to see that she acknowledged her relation to Lemuel. She was not averse to having David understand that she felt there were other men in the world besides himself. But David turned merry eyes on her.“Lemuel says?”he repeated, and he made a sudden movement with his arm which sent a knife and spoon from the table in a clatter upon the floor.“And how much does Lemuel know about the matter?”“Lemuel has good practical common sense,”said Hannah, vexed,“and he knows what is possible and what is not. He does not need to travel all over the country on a wild goose chase to learn that.”Now that she had accepted him Hannah did not intend to allow Lemuel to be discounted.“He has not long to wait to be convinced,”said David thoughtfully and unaware of her tart tone.“Before the year is out it will be a settled fact that every one can see.”“Well, it’s beyond comprehension what you care, anyway,”said Hannah contemptuously.“Did you really spend all your time in New York on such things? It seems incredible. There certainly must have been other attractions?”There was insinuation in Hannah’s voice though it was smooth as butter, but David had had long years of experiencein hearing Hannah Heath’s sharp tongue. He minded it no more than he would have minded the buzzing of a fly. Marcia’s color rose, however. She made a hasty errand to the pantry to put away the bread, and her eyes flashed at Hannah through the close drawn pantry door. But Hannah did not give up so easily.“It is strange you did not stay with Mrs. Leavenworth,”she said.“She told me you were one of her dearest friends, and you used to be quite fond of one another.”Then it suddenly dawned upon David who Mrs. Leavenworth was, and a sternness overspread his face.“Mrs. Leavenworth, did you say? Ah! I did not understand. I saw her but once and that for only a few minutes soon after I first arrived. I did not see her again.”His voice was cool and steady. Marcia coming from the pantry with set face, ready for defence if there was any she could give, marvelled at his coolness. Her heart was gripped with fear, and yet leaping with joy at David’s words. He had not seen Kate but once. He had known she was there and yet had kept away. Hannah’s insinuations were false. Mr. Temple’s words were untrue. She had known it all the time, yet what sorrow they had given her!“By the way, Marcia,”said David, turning toward her with a smile that seemed to erase the sternness in his voice but a moment before.“Did you not write me some news? Miss Hannah, you are to be congratulated I believe. Lemuel is a good man. I wish you much happiness.”And thus did David, with a pleasant speech, turn aside Hannah Heath’s dart. Yet while she went from the house with a smile and a sound of pleasant wishes in her ears, she carried with her a bitter heart and a revengeful one.David was suddenly brought face to face with the thing he had to tell Marcia. He sat watching her as she went back and forth from pantry to kitchen, and at last he came and stood beside her and took her hands in his looking down earnestlyinto her face. It seemed terrible to him to tell this thing to the innocent girl, now, just when he was growing anxious to win her confidence, but it must be told, and better now than later lest he might be tempted not to tell it at all.“Marcia!”He said the name tenderly, with an inflection he had never used before. It was not lover-like, nor passionate, but it reached her heart and drew her eyes to his and the color to her cheeks. She thought how different his clasp was from Harry Temple’s hateful touch. She looked up at him trustingly, and waited.“You heard what I said to Hannah Heath just now, about—your——”He paused, dissatisfied—“about Mrs. Leavenworth”—it was as if he would set the subject of his words far from them. Marcia’s heart beat wildly, remembering all that she had been told, yet she looked bravely, trustingly into his eyes.“It was true what I told her. I met Mrs. Leavenworth but once while I was away. It was in her own home and she sent for me saying she was in trouble. She told me that she was in terrible anxiety lest I would not forgive her. She begged me to say that I forgave her, and when I told her I did she asked me to kiss her once to prove it. I was utterly overcome and did so, but the moment my lips touched hers I knew that I was doing wrong and I put her from me. She begged me to remain, and I now know that she was utterly false from the first. It was but a part she was playing when she touched my heart until I yielded and sinned. I have only learned that recently, within a few days, and from words written by her own hand to another. I will tell you about it all sometime. But I want to confess to you this wrong I have done, and to let you know that I went away from her that day and have never seen her since. She had said she was without money, and I left her all I had with me. I know now that that too was unwise,—perhaps wrong. I feel that all this was a sin against you. I would like you to forgive me if you can, andI want you to know that this other woman who was the cause of our coming together, and yet has separated us ever since we have been together, is no longer anything to me. Even if she and I were both free as we were when we first met, we could never be anything but strangers. Can you forgive me now, Marcia, and can you ever trust me after what I have told you?”Marcia looked into his eyes, and loved him but the more for his confession. She felt she could forgive him anything, and her whole soul in her countenance answered with her voice, as she said:“I can.”It made David think of their wedding day, and suddenly it came over him with a thrill that this sweet womanly woman belonged to him. He marvelled at her sweet forgiveness. The joy of it surprised him beyond measure.“You have had some sad experiences yourself. Will you tell me now all about it?”He asked the question wistfully still holding her hands in a firm close grasp, and she let them lie nestling there feeling safe as birds in the nest.“Why, how did you know?”questioned Marcia, her whole face flooded with rosy light for joy at his kind ways and relief that she did not have to open the story.“Oh, a little bird, or a guardian angel whispered the tale,”he said pleasantly.“Come into the room where we can be sure no Hannah Heaths will trouble us,”and he drew her into the library and seated her beside him on the sofa.“But, indeed, Marcia,”and his face sobered,“it is no light matter to me, what has happened to you. I have been in an agony all the way home lest I might not find you safe and well after having escaped so terrible a danger.”He drew the whole story from her bit by bit, tenderly questioning her, his face blazing with righteous wrath, and darkening with his wider knowledge as she told on to the end, and showed him plainly the black heart of the villain who had dared so diabolical a conspiracy; and the inhumanity of thewoman who had helped in the intrigue against her own sister,—nay even instigated it. His feelings were too deep for utterance. He was shaken to the depths. His new comprehension of Kate’s character was confirmed at the worst. Marcia could only guess his deep feelings from his shaken countenance and the earnest way in which he folded his hands over hers and said in low tones filled with emotion:“We should be deeply thankful to God for saving you, and I must be very careful of you after this. That villain shall be searched out and punished if it takes a lifetime, and Miranda,—what shall we do for Miranda? Perhaps we can induce her grandmother to let us have her sometime to help take care of us. We seem to be unable to get on without her. We’ll see what we can do sometime in return for the great service she has rendered.”But the old clock striking in the hall suddenly reminded David that he should go at once to the office, so he hurried away and Marcia set about her work with energy, a happy song of praise in her heart.There was much to be done. David had said he would scarcely have time to go over to his aunts that night, so she had decided to invite them to tea. She would far rather have had David to herself this first evening, but it would please them to come, especially Aunt Clarinda. There was not much time to prepare supper to be sure, but she would stir up a gingerbread, make some puffy cream biscuits, and there was lovely white honey and fresh eggs and peach preserves.So she ran to Deacon Appleby’s to get some cream for her biscuits and to ask Tommy Appleby to harness David’s horse and drive over for Aunt Clarinda. Then she hurried down to the aunts to give her invitation.Aunt Clarinda sat down in her calico-covered rocking chair, wiped her dear old eyes and her glasses, and said, over and over again:“Dear child! Bless her! Bless her!”It was a happy gathering that evening. David was as pleased as they could have desired, and looked about uponthe group in the dining-room with genuine boyish pleasure. It did his heart good to see Aunt Clarinda there. It had never occurred to him before that she could come. He turned to Marcia with a light in his eyes that fully repaid her for the little trouble she had had in carrying out her plan. He began to feel that home meant something even though he had lost the home of his long dreams and ideals.He talked a great deal about his trip, and in between the sentences, he caught himself watching Marcia, noting the curve of her round chin, the dimple in her left cheek when she smiled, the way her hair waved off from her forehead, the pink curves of her well-shaped ears. He found a distinct pleasure in noting these things and he wondered at himself. It was as if he had suddenly been placed before some great painting and become possessed of the knowledge wherewith to appreciate art to its fullest. It was as if he had heard a marvellous piece of music and had the eyes and ears of his understanding opened to take in the gracious melodies and majestic harmonies.Aunt Clarinda watched his eyes, and Aunt Clarinda was satisfied. Aunt Hortense watched his eyes, jealously and sighed. Aunt Amelia watched his eyes and set her lips and feared to herself.“He will spoil her if he does like that. She will think she can walk right over him.”But Aunt Clarinda knew better. She recognized the eternal right of love.They took the three old ladies home in the rising of an early moon, Marcia walking demurely on the sidewalk with Aunt Amelia, while David drove the chaise with Aunt Clarinda and Aunt Hortense.As he gently lifted Aunt Clarinda down and helped her to her room David felt her old hands tremble and press his arm, and when he had reached her door he stooped and kissed her.“Davie,”she said in the voice that used to comfort his little childish troubles, or tell him of some nice surprise shehad for him,“Davie, she’s a dear child! She’s just as good as gold. She’s the princess I used to put in all your fairy-tales. David, she’s just the right one for you!”and David answered earnestly, solemnly, as if he were discovering a truth which surprised him but yet was not unwelcome.“I believe she is, Aunt Clarinda.”They drove to the barn and Marcia sat in the chaise in the sweet hay-scented darkness while David put up the horse by the cobwebby light of the lantern; then they walked quietly back to the house. David had drawn Marcia’s hand through his arm and it rested softly on his coat sleeve. She was silently happy, she knew not why, afraid to think of it lest to-morrow would show her there was nothing out of the ordinary monotony to be happy about.David was silent, wondering at himself. What was this that had come to him? A new pleasure in life. A little trembling rill of joy bubbling up in his heart; a rift in the dark clouds of fate; a show of sunshine where he had expected never to see the light again. Why was it so pleasant to have that little hand resting upon his arm? Was it really pleasant or was it only a part of the restfulness of getting home again away from strange faces and uncomfortable beds, and poor tables?They let themselves into the house as if they were walking into a new world together and both were glad to be there again. When she got up to her room Marcia went and stood before the glass and looked at herself by the flickering flame of the candle. Her eyes were bright and her cheeks burned red in the centre like two soft deep roses. She felt she hardly knew herself. She tried to be critical. Was this person she was examining a pretty person? Would she be called so in comparison with Kate and Hannah Heath? Would a man,—would David,—if his heart were not filled,—think so? She decided not. She felt she was too immature. There was too much shyness in her glance, too much babyishness about hermouth. No, David could never have thought her beautiful, even if he had seen her before he knew Kate. But perhaps, if Kate had been married first and away and then he had come to their home, perhaps if he knew no one else well enough to love,—could he have cared for her?Oh, it was a dreadful, beautiful thought. It thrilled through and through her till she hid her face from her own gaze. She suddenly kissed the hand that had rested on his sleeve, and then reproached herself for it. She loved him, but was it right to do so?As for David, he was sitting on the side of his bed with his chin in his hands examining himself.He had supposed that with the reading of those letters which had come to him but two short days before all possibility of love and happiness had died, but lo! he found himself thrilling with pleasure over the look in a girl’s soft eyes, and the touch of her hand. And that girl was his wife. It was enough to keep him awake to try to understand himself.CHAPTER XXVIHannah Heath’s wedding day dawned bright enough for a less calculating bride.David did not get home until half past three. He had been obliged to drive out to the starting place of the new railroad, near Albany, where it was important that he get a few points correctly. On the morrow was to be the initial trip, by the Mohawk and Hudson Railroad, of the first train drawn by a steam engine in the state of New York.His article about it, bargained for by a New York paper, must be on its way by special post as soon after the starting of the train as possible. He must have all items accurate;technicalities of preparation; description of engine and coaches; details of arrangements, etc.; before he added the final paragraphs describing the actual start of the train. His article was practically done now, save for these few items. He had started early that morning on his long drive, and, being detained longer than he had expected, arrived at home with barely time to put himself into wedding garments, and hasten in at the last moment with Marcia who stood quietly waiting for him in the front hall. They were the last guests to arrive. It was time for the ceremony, but the bride, true to her nature to the last, still kept Lemuel waiting; and Lemuel, true to the end, stood smiling and patient awaiting her pleasure.David and Marcia entered the wide parlor and shook hands here and there with those assembled, though for the most part a hushed air pervaded the room, as it always does when something is about to happen.Soon after their arrival some one in purple silk came down the stairs and seated herself in a vacant chair close to wherethe bride was to stand. She had gold hair and eyes like forget-me-nots. She was directly opposite to David and Marcia. David was engrossed in a whispered conversation with Mr. Brentwood about the events of the morrow, and did not notice her entrance, though she paused in the doorway and searched him directly from amongst the company before she took her seat. Marcia, who was talking with Rose Brentwood, caught the vision of purple and gold and turned to face for one brief instant the scornful, half-merry glance of her sister. The blood in her face fled back to her heart and left it white.Then Marcia summoned all her courage and braced herself to face what was to come. She forced herself to smile in answer to Rose Brentwood’s question. But all the while she was trying to understand what it was in her sister’s look that had hurt her so. It was not the anger,—for that she was prepared. It was not the scorn, for she had often faced that. Was it the almost merriment? Yes, there was the sting. She had felt it so keenly when as a little girl Kate had taken to making fun of some whim of hers. She could not see why Kate should find cause for fun just now. It was as if she by her look ignored Marcia’s relation to David in scornful laugh and appropriated him herself. Marcia’s inmost soul rebelled. The color came back as if by force of her will. She would show Kate,—or she would show David at least,—that she could bear all things for him. She would play well her part of wife this day. The happy two months that had passed since David came back from New York had made her almost feel as if she was really his and he hers. For this hour she would forget that it was otherwise. She would look at him and speak to him as if he had been her husband for years, as if there were the truest understanding between them,—as indeed, of a certain wistful, pleasant sort there was. She would not let the dreadful thought of Kate cloud her face for others to see. Bravely she faced the company, but her heart under Kate’s blue frock sent up a swift and pleadingprayer demanding of a higher Power something she knew she had not in herself, and must therefore find in Him who had created her. It was the most trustful, and needy prayer that Marcia ever uttered and yet there were no words, not even the closing of an eyelid. Only her heart took the attitude of prayer.The door upstairs opened in a business-like way, and Hannah’s composed voice was heard giving a direction. Hannah’s silken tread began to be audible. Miranda told Marcia afterward that she kept her standing at the window for an hour beforehand to see when David arrived, and when they started over to the house. Hannah kept herself posted on what was going on in the room below as well as if she were down there. She knew where David and Marcia stood, and told Kate exactly where to go. It was like Hannah that in the moment of her sacrifice of the long cherished hopes of her life she should have planned a dramatic revenge to help carry her through.The bride’s rustle became at last so audible that even David and Mr. Brentwood heard and turned from their absorbing conversation to the business in hand.Hannah was in the doorway when David looked up, very cold and beautiful in her bridal array despite the years she had waited, and almost at once David saw the vision in purple and gold like a saucy pansy, standing near her.Kate’s eyes were fixed upon him with their most bewitching, dancing smile of recognition, like a naughty little child who had been in hiding for a time and now peeps out laughing over the discomfiture of its elders. So Kate encountered the steadfast gaze of David’s astonished eyes.But there was no light of love in those eyes as she had expected to see. Instead there grew in his face such a blaze of righteous indignation as the lord of the wedding feast might have turned upon the person who came in without a wedding garment. In spite of herself Kate was disconcerted. Shewas astonished. She felt that David was challenging her presence there. It seemed to her he was looking through her, searching her, judging her, sentencing her, and casting her out, and presently his eyes wandered beyond her through the open hall door and out into God’s green world; and when they came back and next rested upon her his look had frozen into the glance of a stranger.Angry, ashamed, baffled, she bit her lips in vexation, but tried to keep the merry smile. In her heart she hated him, and vowed to make him bow before her smiles once more.David did not see the bride at all to notice her, but the bride, unlike the one of the psalmist’s vision whose eyes were upon“her dear bridegroom’s face,”was looking straight across the room with evident intent to observe David.The ceremony proceeded, and Hannah went through her part correctly and calmly, aware that she was giving herself to Lemuel Skinner irrevocably, yet perfectly aware also of the discomfiture of the sweet-faced girl-wife who sat across the room bravely watching the ceremony with white cheeks and eyes that shone like righteous lights.Marcia did not look at David. She was with him in heart, suffering with him, feeling for him, quivering in every nerve for what he might be enduring. She had no need to look. Her part was to ignore, and help to cover.They went through it all well. Not once did Aunt Amelia or Aunt Hortense notice anything strange in the demeanor of their nephew or his wife. Aunt Clarinda was not there. She was not fond of Hannah.As soon as the service was over and the relatives had broken the solemn hush by kissing the bride, David turned and spoke to Rose Brentwood, making some smiling remark about the occasion. Rose Brentwood was looking her very prettiest in a rose-sprigged delaine and her wavy dark hair in a beaded net tied round with a rose-colored lute-string ribbon.Kate flushed angrily at this. If it had been Marcia to whom he had spoken she would have judged he did it out of pique, but a pretty stranger coming upon the scene at this critical moment was trying. And then, too, David’s manner was so indifferent, so utterly natural. He did not seem in the least troubled by the sight of herself.David and Marcia did not go up to speak to the bride at once. David stepped back into the deep window seat to talk with Mr. Brentwood, and seemed to be in no hurry to follow the procession who were filing past the calm bride to congratulate her. Marcia remained quietly talking to Rose Brentwood.At last David turned toward his wife with a smile as though he had known she was there all the time, and had felt her sympathy. Her heart leaped up with new strength at that look, and her husband’s firm touch as he drew her hand within his arm to lead her over to the bride gave her courage. She felt that she could face the battle, and with a bright smile that lit up her whole lovely face she marched bravely to the front to do or to die.“I had about given up expecting any congratulations from you,”said Hannah sharply as they came near. It was quite evident she had been watching for them.“I wish you much joy, Mrs. Skinner,”said David mechanically, scarcely feeling that she would have it for he knew her unhappy, dissatisfied nature.“Yes,”said Marcia,“I wish you may be happy,—as happy as I am!”It was an impetuous, childish thing to say, and Marcia scarcely realized what words she meant to speak until they were out, and then she blushed rosy red. Was she happy? Why was she happy? Yes, even in the present trying circumstances she suddenly felt a great deep happiness bubbling up in her heart. Was it David’s look and his strong arm under her hand?Hannah darted a look at her. She was stung by the words. But did the girl-bride before her mean to flaunt her own triumphs in her face? Did she fully understand? Or was she trying to act a part and make them believe she was happy? Hannah was baffled once more as she had been before with Marcia.Kate turned upon Marcia for one piercing instant again, that look of understanding, mocking merriment, which cut through the soul of her sister.But did Marcia imagine it, or was it true that at her words to Hannah, David’s arm had pressed hers closer as they stood there in the crowd? The thought thrilled through her and gave her greater strength.Hannah turned toward Kate.“David,”she said, as she had always called him, and it is possible that she enjoyed the triumph of this touch of intimacy before her guest,“you knew my friend Mrs. Leavenworth!”David bowed gravely, but did not attempt to put out his hand to take the one which Kate offered in greeting. Instead he laid it over Marcia’s little trembling one on his arm as if to steady it.“We have met before,”said David briefly in an impenetrable tone, and turning passed out of the room to make way for the Brentwoods who were behind him.Hannah scarcely treated the Brentwoods with decency, so vexed was she with the way things were turning out. To think that David should so completely baffle her. She turned an annoyed look at Kate, who flashed her blue eyes contemptuously as if to blame Hannah.Soon the whole little gathering were in the dining-room and wide hall being served with Grandmother Heath’s fried chicken and currant jelly, delicate soda biscuits, and fruit cake baked months before and left to ripen.The ordeal through which they were passing made Davidand Marcia feel, as they sat down, that they would not be able to swallow a mouthful, but strangely enough they found themselves eating with relish, each to encourage the other perhaps, but almost enjoying it, and feeling that they had not yet met more than they would be able to withstand.Kate was seated on the other side of the dining-room, by Hannah, and she watched the two incessantly with that half merry contemptuous look, toying with her own food, and apparently waiting for their acting to cease and David to put on his true character. She never doubted for an instant that they were acting.The wedding supper was over at last. The guests crowded out to the front stoop to bid good-bye to the happy bridegroom and cross-looking bride, who seemed as if she left the gala scene reluctantly.Marcia, for the instant, was separated from David, who stepped down upon the grass and stood to one side to let the bridal party pass. The minister was at the other side. Marcia had slipped into the shelter of Aunt Amelia’s black silk presence and wished she might run out the back door and away home.Suddenly a shimmer of gold with the sunlight through it caught her gaze, and a glimpse of sheeny purple. There, close behind David, standing upon the top step, quite unseen by him, stood her sister Kate.Marcia’s heart gave a quick thump and seemed to stop, then went painfully laboring on. She stood quite still watching for the moment to come when David would turn around and see Kate that she might look into his face and read there what was written.Hannah had been put carefully into the carriage by the adoring Lemuel, with many a pat, and a shaking of cushions, and an adjustment of curtains to suit her whim. It pleased Hannah, now in her last lingering moment of freedom, to be exacting and show others what a slave her husband was.They all stood for an instant looking after the carriage, but Marcia watched David. Then, just as the carriage wound around the curve in the road and was lost from view, she saw him turn, and at once knew she must not see his face as he looked at Kate. Closing her eyes like a flash she turned and fled upstairs to get her shawl and bonnet. There she took refuge behind the great white curtains, and hid her face for several minutes, praying wildly, she hardly knew what, thankful she had been kept from the sight which yet she had longed to behold.As David turned to go up the steps and search for Marcia he was confronted by Kate’s beautiful, smiling face, radiant as it used to be when it had first charmed him. He exulted, as he looked into it, that it did not any longer charm.“David, you don’t seem a bit glad to see me,”blamed Kate sweetly in her pretty, childish tones, looking into his face with those blue eyes so like to liquid skies. Almost there was a hint of tears in them. He had been wont to kiss them when she looked like that. Now he felt only disgust as some of the flippant sentences in her letters to Harry Temple came to his mind.His face was stern and unrecognizing.“David, you are angry with me yet! You said you would forgive!”The gentle reproach minimized the crime, and enlarged the punishment. It was Kate’s way. The pretty pout on the rosy lips was the same as it used to be when she chided him for some trifling forgetfulness of her wishes.The other guests had all gone into the house now. David made no response, but, nothing daunted, Kate spoke again.“I have something very important to consult you about. I came here on purpose. Can you give me some time to-morrow morning?”She wrinkled her pretty face into a thousand dimples and looked her most bewitching like a naughty child who knew she was loved in spite of anything, and coquettishly puttingher head on one side, added, in the tone she used of old to cajole him:“You know you never could refuse me anything, David.”David did not smile. He did not answer the look. With a voice that recognized her only as a stranger he said gravely:“I have an important engagement to-morrow morning.”“But you will put off the engagement.”She said it confidently.“It is impossible!”said David decidedly.“I am starting quite early to drive over to Albany. I am under obligation to be present at the starting of the new steam railroad.”“Oh, how nice!”said Kate, clapping her hands childishly,“I have wanted to be there, and now you will take me. Then I—we—can talk on the way. How like old times that will be!”She flashed him a smile of molten sunshine, alluring and transforming.“That, too, is impossible, Mrs. Leavenworth. My wife accompanies me!”he answered her promptly and clearly and with a curt bow left her and went into the house.Kate Leavenworth was angry, and for Kate to be angry, meant to visit it upon some one, the offender if possible, if not the nearest to the offender. She had failed utterly in her attempt to win back the friendship of her former lover. She had hoped to enjoy his attention to a certain extent and bathe her sad (?) heart in the wistful glances of the man she had jilted; and incidentally perhaps be invited to spend a little time in his house, by which she would contrive to have a good many of her own ways. A rich brother-in-law who adored one was not a bad thing to have, especially when his wife was one’s own little sister whom one had always dominated. She was tired of New York and at this season of the year the country was much preferable. She could thus contrive to hoard her small income, and save for the next winter, as well as secure a possible entrance finally into her father’s good graces again through the forgiveness of Davidand Marcia. But she had failed. Could it be that he cared for Marcia! That child! Scout the idea! She would discover at once.Hurriedly she searched through the rooms downstairs and then went stealthily upstairs. Instinctively she went to the room where Marcia had hidden herself.Marcia, with that strong upward breath of prayer had grown steady again. She was standing with her back to the door looking out of the window toward her own home when Kate entered the room. Without turning about she felt Kate’s presence and knew that it was she. The moment had come. She turned around, her face calm and sweet, with two red spots upon her cheeks, and her bonnet,—Kate’s bonnet and shawl, Kate’s fine lace shawl sent from Paris—grasped in her hands.They faced each other, the sisters, and much was understood between them in a flash without a word spoken. Marcia suddenly saw herself standing there in Kate’s rightful place, Kate’s things in her hands, Kate’s garments upon her body, Kate’s husband held by her. It was as if Kate charged her with all these things, as she looked her through and over, from her slipper tips to the ruffle around the neck. And oh, the scorn that flamed from Kate’s eyes playing over her, and scorching her cheeks into crimson, and burning her lips dry and stiff! And yet when Kate’s eyes reached her face and charged her with the supreme offense of taking David from her, Marcia’s eyes looked bravely back, and were not burned by the fire, and she felt that her soul was not even scorched by it. Something about the thought of David like an angelic presence seemed to save her.The silence between them was so intense that nothing else could be heard by the two. The voices below were drowned by it, the footstep on the stair was as if it were not.At last Kate spoke, angered still more by her sister’s soft eyes which gazed steadily back and did not droop before herown flashing onslaught. Her voice was cold and cruel. There was nothing sisterly in it, nothing to remind either that the other had ever been beloved.“Fool!”hissed Kate.“Silly fool! Did you think you could steal a husband as you stole your clothes? Did you suppose marrying David would make him yours, as putting on my clothes seemed to make them yours? Well I can tell you he will never be a husband to you. He doesn’t love you and he never can. He will always love me. He’s as much mine as if I had married him, in spite of all your attempts to take him. Oh, you needn’t put up your baby mouth and pucker it as if you were going to cry. Cry away. It won’t do any good. You can’t make a man yours, any more than you can make somebody’s clothes yours. They don’t fit you any more than he does. You look horrid in blue, and you know it, in spite of all your prinking around and pretending. I’d be ashamed to be tricked out that way and know that every dud I had was made for somebody else. As for going around and pretending you have a husband—it’s a lie. You know he’s nothing to you. You know he never told you he cared for you. I tell you he’s mine, and he always will be.”“Kate, you’re married!”cried Marcia in shocked tones.“How can you talk like that?”“Married! Nonsense! What difference does that make? It’s hearts that count, not marriages. Has your marriage made you a wife? Answer me that! Has it? Does David love you? Does he ever kiss you? Yet he came to see me in New York this winter, and took me in his arms and kissed me. He gave me money too. See this brooch?”—she exhibited a jeweled pin—“that was bought with his money. You see he loves me still. I could bring him to my feet with a word to-day. He would kiss me if I asked him. He is weak as water in my hands.”Marcia’s cheeks burned with shame and anger. Almost she felt at the limit of her strength. For the first time inher life she felt like striking,—striking her own sister. Horrified over her feelings, and the rage which was tearing her soul, she looked up, and there stood David in the doorway, like some tall avenging angel!Kate had her back that way and did not see at once, but Marcia’s eyes rested on him hungrily, pleadingly, and his answered hers. From her sudden calmness Kate saw there was some one near, and turning, looked at David. But he did not glance her way. How much or how little he had heard of Kate’s tirade, which in her passion had been keyed in a high voice, he never let them know and neither dared to ask him, lest perhaps he had not heard anything. There was a light of steel in his eyes toward everything but Marcia, and his tone had in it kindness and a recognition of mutual understanding as he said:“If you are ready we had better go now, dear, had we not?”Oh how gladly Marcia followed her husband down the stairs and out the door! She scarcely knew how she went through the formalities of getting away. It seemed as she looked back upon them that David had sheltered her from it all, and said everything needful for her, and all she had done was to smile an assent. He talked calmly to her all the way home; told her Mr. Brentwood’s opinion about the change in the commerce of the country the new railroad was going to make; told her though he must have known she could not listen. Perhaps both were conscious of the bedroom window over the way and a pair of blue eyes that might be watching them as they passed into the house. David took hold of her arm and helped her up the steps of their own home as if she had been some great lady. Marcia wondered if Kate saw that. In her heart she blessed David for this outward sign of their relationship. It gave her shame a little cover at least. She glanced up toward the next house as she passed in and felt sure she saw a glimmer of purple move away from the window. Then David shut the door behind them and led her gently in.
CHAPTER XXVMarcia hurried down to her own house early one morning. The phantoms of her experiences in the old Green Tavern were pursuing her.Once there she could do nothing but go over and over the dreadful things that Harry Temple had said. In vain did she try to work. She went into the library and took up a book, but her mind would wander to David.She sat down at the piano and played a few tender chords and sang an old Italian song which somebody had left at their house several years before:“Dearest, believe,When e’er we part:Lonely I grieve,In my sad heart:—”With a sob her head dropped upon her hands in one sad little crash of wailing tones, while the sound died away in reverberation after reverberation of the strings till Marcia felt as if a sea of sound were about her in soft ebbing, flowing waves.The sound covered the lifting of the side door latch and the quiet step of a foot. Marcia was absorbed in her own thoughts. Her smothered sobs were mingling with the dying sounds of the music, still audible to her fine ear.David had come by instinct to his own home first. He felt that Marcia would be there, and now that he was come and the morning sun flooded everything and made home look so good he felt that he must find her first of all before his relationship with home had been re-established. He passed through kitchen, dining room and hall, and by the closed parlor door.He never thought of her being in there with the door closed. He glanced into the library and saw the book lying in his chair as she had left it, and it gave a touch of her presence which pleased him. He went softly toward the stairs thinking to find her. He had stopped at a shop the last thing and bought a beautiful creamy shawl of China crêpe heavily embroidered, and finished with long silken fringe. He had taken it from his carpet-bag and was carrying it in its rice paper wrappings lest it should be crushed. He was pleased as a child at the present he had brought her, and felt strangely shy about giving it to her.Just then there came a sound from the parlor, sweet and tender and plaintive. Marcia had conquered her sobs and was singing again with her whole soul, singing as if she were singing to David. The words drew him strangely, wonderingly toward the parlor door, yet so softly that he heard every syllable.“Dearest, believe,When e’er we part:Lonely I grieve,In my sad heart:—Thy faithful slave,Languishing sighs,Haste then and save—”Here the words trailed away again into a half sob, and the melody continued in broken, halting chords that flickered out and faded into the shadows of the room.David’s heart was pierced with a belief that Aunt Clarinda was right and something was the matter with Marcia. A great trouble and tenderness, and almost jealousy, leaped up in his heart which were incomprehensible to him. Who was Marcia singing this song for? That it was a true cry from a lonely soul he could but believe. Was she feeling her prison-bars here in the lonely old house with only a forlorn manwhose life and love had been thrown away upon another? Poor child! Poor child! If he might but save her from suffering, cover her with his own tenderness and make her content with that. Would it be possible if he devoted himself to it to make her forget the one for whom she was sighing; to bring peace and a certain sort of sweet forgetfulness and interest in other things into her life? He wanted to make a new life for her, his little girl whom he had so unthinkingly torn from the home nest and her future, and compelled to take up his barren way with him. He would make it up to her if such a thing were possible. Then he opened the door.In the soft green light of the noonday coming through the shades Marcia’s color did not show as it flew into her cheeks. Her hands grew weak and dropped upon the keys with a soft little tinkle of surprise and joy. She sprang up and came a step toward him, then clasped her hands against her breast and stopped shyly. David coming into the room, questioning, wondering, anxious, stopped midway too, and for an instant they looked upon one another. David saw a new look in the girl’s face. She seemed older, much older than when he had left her. The sweet round cheeks were thinner, her mouth drooped sadly, pathetically. For an instant he longed to take her in his arms and kiss her. The longing startled him. So many months he had thought of only Kate in that way, and then had tried to teach himself never to think of Kate or any woman as one to be caressed by him, that it shocked him. He felt that he had been disloyal to himself, to honor,—to Kate—no—not to Kate, he had no call to be loyal to her. She had not been loyal to him ever. Perhaps rather he would have put it loyalty to Love for Love’s sake, love that is worthy to be crowned by a woman’s love.With all these mingling feelings David was embarrassed. He came toward her slowly, trying to be natural, trying to get back his former way with her. He put out his hand stiffly to shake hands as he had done when he left, and timidlyshe put hers into it, yet as their fingers closed there leaped from one to the other a thrill of sweetness, that neither guessed the other knew and each put by in memory for closer inspection as to what it could mean. Their hands clung together longer than either had meant, and there was something pleasant to each in the fact that they were together again. David thought it was just because it was home, rest, and peace, and a relief from his anxiety about Marcia now that he saw she was all right. Marcia knew it was better to have David standing there with his strong fingers about her trembling ones, than to have anything else in the world. But she would not have told him so.“That was a sweet song you were singing,”said David.“I hope you were singing it for me, and that it was true! I am glad I am come home, and you must sing it again for me soon.”It was not in the least what he intended to say, and the words tumbled themselves out so tumultuously that he was almost ashamed and wondered if Marcia would think he had lost his mind in New York. Marcia, dear child, treasured them every word and hugged them to her heart, and carried them in her prayers.They went out together and got dinner as if they had been two children, with a wild excited kind of glee; and they tried to get back their natural ways of doing and saying things, but they could not.Instead they were forever blundering and halting in what they said; coming face to face and almost running over one another as they tried to help each other; laughing and blushing and blundering again.When they each tried to reach for the tea kettle to fill the coffee pot and their fingers touched, each drew back and pretended not to notice, but yet had felt the contact sweet.They were lingering over the dinner when Hannah Heath came to the door. David had been telling of some of hisadventures in detail and was enjoying the play of expression on Marcia’s face as she listened eagerly to every word. They had pushed their chairs back a little and were sitting there talking,—or rather David was talking, Marcia listening. Hannah stood for one jealous instant and saw it all. This was what she had dreamed for her own long years back, she and David. She had questioned much just what feeling there might be between him and Marcia, and now more than ever she desired to bring him face to face with Kate and read for herself what the truth had been. She hated Marcia for that look of intense delight and sympathy upon her face; hated her that she had the right to sit there and hear what David had to say—some stupid stuff about railroads. She did not see that she herself would have made an ill companion for a man like David.As yet neither Marcia nor David had touched upon the subjects which had troubled them. They did not realize it, but they were so suddenly happy in each other’s company they had forgotten for the moment. The pleasant converse was broken up at once. Marcia’s face hardened into something like alarm as she saw who stood in the doorway.“Why, David, have you got home at last?”said Hannah.“I did not know it.”That was an untruth. She had watched him from behind Grandmother Heath’s rose bush.“Where did you come from last? New York? Oh, then you saw Mrs. Leavenworth. How is she? I fell in love with her when I was there.”Now David had never fully taken in Kate’s married name. He knew it of course, but in his present state of happiness at getting home, and his absorption in the work he had been doing, the name“Mrs. Leavenworth”conveyed nothing whatever to David’s mind. He looked blankly at Hannah and replied indifferently enough with a cool air.“No, Miss Hannah, I had no time for social life. I was busy every minute I was away.”David never expected Hannah to say anything worth listening to, and he was so full of his subject that he had not noticed that she made no reply.Hannah watched him curiously as he talked, his remarks after all were directed more to Marcia than to her, and when he paused she said with a contemptuous sneer in her voice,“I never could understand, David, how you who seem to have so much sense in other things will take up with such fanciful, impractical dreams as this railroad. Lemuel says it’ll never run.”Hannah quoted her lover with a proud bridling of her head as if the matter were settled once and for all. It was the first time she had allowed the world to see that she acknowledged her relation to Lemuel. She was not averse to having David understand that she felt there were other men in the world besides himself. But David turned merry eyes on her.“Lemuel says?”he repeated, and he made a sudden movement with his arm which sent a knife and spoon from the table in a clatter upon the floor.“And how much does Lemuel know about the matter?”“Lemuel has good practical common sense,”said Hannah, vexed,“and he knows what is possible and what is not. He does not need to travel all over the country on a wild goose chase to learn that.”Now that she had accepted him Hannah did not intend to allow Lemuel to be discounted.“He has not long to wait to be convinced,”said David thoughtfully and unaware of her tart tone.“Before the year is out it will be a settled fact that every one can see.”“Well, it’s beyond comprehension what you care, anyway,”said Hannah contemptuously.“Did you really spend all your time in New York on such things? It seems incredible. There certainly must have been other attractions?”There was insinuation in Hannah’s voice though it was smooth as butter, but David had had long years of experiencein hearing Hannah Heath’s sharp tongue. He minded it no more than he would have minded the buzzing of a fly. Marcia’s color rose, however. She made a hasty errand to the pantry to put away the bread, and her eyes flashed at Hannah through the close drawn pantry door. But Hannah did not give up so easily.“It is strange you did not stay with Mrs. Leavenworth,”she said.“She told me you were one of her dearest friends, and you used to be quite fond of one another.”Then it suddenly dawned upon David who Mrs. Leavenworth was, and a sternness overspread his face.“Mrs. Leavenworth, did you say? Ah! I did not understand. I saw her but once and that for only a few minutes soon after I first arrived. I did not see her again.”His voice was cool and steady. Marcia coming from the pantry with set face, ready for defence if there was any she could give, marvelled at his coolness. Her heart was gripped with fear, and yet leaping with joy at David’s words. He had not seen Kate but once. He had known she was there and yet had kept away. Hannah’s insinuations were false. Mr. Temple’s words were untrue. She had known it all the time, yet what sorrow they had given her!“By the way, Marcia,”said David, turning toward her with a smile that seemed to erase the sternness in his voice but a moment before.“Did you not write me some news? Miss Hannah, you are to be congratulated I believe. Lemuel is a good man. I wish you much happiness.”And thus did David, with a pleasant speech, turn aside Hannah Heath’s dart. Yet while she went from the house with a smile and a sound of pleasant wishes in her ears, she carried with her a bitter heart and a revengeful one.David was suddenly brought face to face with the thing he had to tell Marcia. He sat watching her as she went back and forth from pantry to kitchen, and at last he came and stood beside her and took her hands in his looking down earnestlyinto her face. It seemed terrible to him to tell this thing to the innocent girl, now, just when he was growing anxious to win her confidence, but it must be told, and better now than later lest he might be tempted not to tell it at all.“Marcia!”He said the name tenderly, with an inflection he had never used before. It was not lover-like, nor passionate, but it reached her heart and drew her eyes to his and the color to her cheeks. She thought how different his clasp was from Harry Temple’s hateful touch. She looked up at him trustingly, and waited.“You heard what I said to Hannah Heath just now, about—your——”He paused, dissatisfied—“about Mrs. Leavenworth”—it was as if he would set the subject of his words far from them. Marcia’s heart beat wildly, remembering all that she had been told, yet she looked bravely, trustingly into his eyes.“It was true what I told her. I met Mrs. Leavenworth but once while I was away. It was in her own home and she sent for me saying she was in trouble. She told me that she was in terrible anxiety lest I would not forgive her. She begged me to say that I forgave her, and when I told her I did she asked me to kiss her once to prove it. I was utterly overcome and did so, but the moment my lips touched hers I knew that I was doing wrong and I put her from me. She begged me to remain, and I now know that she was utterly false from the first. It was but a part she was playing when she touched my heart until I yielded and sinned. I have only learned that recently, within a few days, and from words written by her own hand to another. I will tell you about it all sometime. But I want to confess to you this wrong I have done, and to let you know that I went away from her that day and have never seen her since. She had said she was without money, and I left her all I had with me. I know now that that too was unwise,—perhaps wrong. I feel that all this was a sin against you. I would like you to forgive me if you can, andI want you to know that this other woman who was the cause of our coming together, and yet has separated us ever since we have been together, is no longer anything to me. Even if she and I were both free as we were when we first met, we could never be anything but strangers. Can you forgive me now, Marcia, and can you ever trust me after what I have told you?”Marcia looked into his eyes, and loved him but the more for his confession. She felt she could forgive him anything, and her whole soul in her countenance answered with her voice, as she said:“I can.”It made David think of their wedding day, and suddenly it came over him with a thrill that this sweet womanly woman belonged to him. He marvelled at her sweet forgiveness. The joy of it surprised him beyond measure.“You have had some sad experiences yourself. Will you tell me now all about it?”He asked the question wistfully still holding her hands in a firm close grasp, and she let them lie nestling there feeling safe as birds in the nest.“Why, how did you know?”questioned Marcia, her whole face flooded with rosy light for joy at his kind ways and relief that she did not have to open the story.“Oh, a little bird, or a guardian angel whispered the tale,”he said pleasantly.“Come into the room where we can be sure no Hannah Heaths will trouble us,”and he drew her into the library and seated her beside him on the sofa.“But, indeed, Marcia,”and his face sobered,“it is no light matter to me, what has happened to you. I have been in an agony all the way home lest I might not find you safe and well after having escaped so terrible a danger.”He drew the whole story from her bit by bit, tenderly questioning her, his face blazing with righteous wrath, and darkening with his wider knowledge as she told on to the end, and showed him plainly the black heart of the villain who had dared so diabolical a conspiracy; and the inhumanity of thewoman who had helped in the intrigue against her own sister,—nay even instigated it. His feelings were too deep for utterance. He was shaken to the depths. His new comprehension of Kate’s character was confirmed at the worst. Marcia could only guess his deep feelings from his shaken countenance and the earnest way in which he folded his hands over hers and said in low tones filled with emotion:“We should be deeply thankful to God for saving you, and I must be very careful of you after this. That villain shall be searched out and punished if it takes a lifetime, and Miranda,—what shall we do for Miranda? Perhaps we can induce her grandmother to let us have her sometime to help take care of us. We seem to be unable to get on without her. We’ll see what we can do sometime in return for the great service she has rendered.”But the old clock striking in the hall suddenly reminded David that he should go at once to the office, so he hurried away and Marcia set about her work with energy, a happy song of praise in her heart.There was much to be done. David had said he would scarcely have time to go over to his aunts that night, so she had decided to invite them to tea. She would far rather have had David to herself this first evening, but it would please them to come, especially Aunt Clarinda. There was not much time to prepare supper to be sure, but she would stir up a gingerbread, make some puffy cream biscuits, and there was lovely white honey and fresh eggs and peach preserves.So she ran to Deacon Appleby’s to get some cream for her biscuits and to ask Tommy Appleby to harness David’s horse and drive over for Aunt Clarinda. Then she hurried down to the aunts to give her invitation.Aunt Clarinda sat down in her calico-covered rocking chair, wiped her dear old eyes and her glasses, and said, over and over again:“Dear child! Bless her! Bless her!”It was a happy gathering that evening. David was as pleased as they could have desired, and looked about uponthe group in the dining-room with genuine boyish pleasure. It did his heart good to see Aunt Clarinda there. It had never occurred to him before that she could come. He turned to Marcia with a light in his eyes that fully repaid her for the little trouble she had had in carrying out her plan. He began to feel that home meant something even though he had lost the home of his long dreams and ideals.He talked a great deal about his trip, and in between the sentences, he caught himself watching Marcia, noting the curve of her round chin, the dimple in her left cheek when she smiled, the way her hair waved off from her forehead, the pink curves of her well-shaped ears. He found a distinct pleasure in noting these things and he wondered at himself. It was as if he had suddenly been placed before some great painting and become possessed of the knowledge wherewith to appreciate art to its fullest. It was as if he had heard a marvellous piece of music and had the eyes and ears of his understanding opened to take in the gracious melodies and majestic harmonies.Aunt Clarinda watched his eyes, and Aunt Clarinda was satisfied. Aunt Hortense watched his eyes, jealously and sighed. Aunt Amelia watched his eyes and set her lips and feared to herself.“He will spoil her if he does like that. She will think she can walk right over him.”But Aunt Clarinda knew better. She recognized the eternal right of love.They took the three old ladies home in the rising of an early moon, Marcia walking demurely on the sidewalk with Aunt Amelia, while David drove the chaise with Aunt Clarinda and Aunt Hortense.As he gently lifted Aunt Clarinda down and helped her to her room David felt her old hands tremble and press his arm, and when he had reached her door he stooped and kissed her.“Davie,”she said in the voice that used to comfort his little childish troubles, or tell him of some nice surprise shehad for him,“Davie, she’s a dear child! She’s just as good as gold. She’s the princess I used to put in all your fairy-tales. David, she’s just the right one for you!”and David answered earnestly, solemnly, as if he were discovering a truth which surprised him but yet was not unwelcome.“I believe she is, Aunt Clarinda.”They drove to the barn and Marcia sat in the chaise in the sweet hay-scented darkness while David put up the horse by the cobwebby light of the lantern; then they walked quietly back to the house. David had drawn Marcia’s hand through his arm and it rested softly on his coat sleeve. She was silently happy, she knew not why, afraid to think of it lest to-morrow would show her there was nothing out of the ordinary monotony to be happy about.David was silent, wondering at himself. What was this that had come to him? A new pleasure in life. A little trembling rill of joy bubbling up in his heart; a rift in the dark clouds of fate; a show of sunshine where he had expected never to see the light again. Why was it so pleasant to have that little hand resting upon his arm? Was it really pleasant or was it only a part of the restfulness of getting home again away from strange faces and uncomfortable beds, and poor tables?They let themselves into the house as if they were walking into a new world together and both were glad to be there again. When she got up to her room Marcia went and stood before the glass and looked at herself by the flickering flame of the candle. Her eyes were bright and her cheeks burned red in the centre like two soft deep roses. She felt she hardly knew herself. She tried to be critical. Was this person she was examining a pretty person? Would she be called so in comparison with Kate and Hannah Heath? Would a man,—would David,—if his heart were not filled,—think so? She decided not. She felt she was too immature. There was too much shyness in her glance, too much babyishness about hermouth. No, David could never have thought her beautiful, even if he had seen her before he knew Kate. But perhaps, if Kate had been married first and away and then he had come to their home, perhaps if he knew no one else well enough to love,—could he have cared for her?Oh, it was a dreadful, beautiful thought. It thrilled through and through her till she hid her face from her own gaze. She suddenly kissed the hand that had rested on his sleeve, and then reproached herself for it. She loved him, but was it right to do so?As for David, he was sitting on the side of his bed with his chin in his hands examining himself.He had supposed that with the reading of those letters which had come to him but two short days before all possibility of love and happiness had died, but lo! he found himself thrilling with pleasure over the look in a girl’s soft eyes, and the touch of her hand. And that girl was his wife. It was enough to keep him awake to try to understand himself.
Marcia hurried down to her own house early one morning. The phantoms of her experiences in the old Green Tavern were pursuing her.
Once there she could do nothing but go over and over the dreadful things that Harry Temple had said. In vain did she try to work. She went into the library and took up a book, but her mind would wander to David.
She sat down at the piano and played a few tender chords and sang an old Italian song which somebody had left at their house several years before:
“Dearest, believe,When e’er we part:Lonely I grieve,In my sad heart:—”
“Dearest, believe,
When e’er we part:
Lonely I grieve,
In my sad heart:—”
With a sob her head dropped upon her hands in one sad little crash of wailing tones, while the sound died away in reverberation after reverberation of the strings till Marcia felt as if a sea of sound were about her in soft ebbing, flowing waves.
The sound covered the lifting of the side door latch and the quiet step of a foot. Marcia was absorbed in her own thoughts. Her smothered sobs were mingling with the dying sounds of the music, still audible to her fine ear.
David had come by instinct to his own home first. He felt that Marcia would be there, and now that he was come and the morning sun flooded everything and made home look so good he felt that he must find her first of all before his relationship with home had been re-established. He passed through kitchen, dining room and hall, and by the closed parlor door.He never thought of her being in there with the door closed. He glanced into the library and saw the book lying in his chair as she had left it, and it gave a touch of her presence which pleased him. He went softly toward the stairs thinking to find her. He had stopped at a shop the last thing and bought a beautiful creamy shawl of China crêpe heavily embroidered, and finished with long silken fringe. He had taken it from his carpet-bag and was carrying it in its rice paper wrappings lest it should be crushed. He was pleased as a child at the present he had brought her, and felt strangely shy about giving it to her.
Just then there came a sound from the parlor, sweet and tender and plaintive. Marcia had conquered her sobs and was singing again with her whole soul, singing as if she were singing to David. The words drew him strangely, wonderingly toward the parlor door, yet so softly that he heard every syllable.
“Dearest, believe,When e’er we part:Lonely I grieve,In my sad heart:—Thy faithful slave,Languishing sighs,Haste then and save—”
“Dearest, believe,
When e’er we part:
Lonely I grieve,
In my sad heart:—
Thy faithful slave,
Languishing sighs,
Haste then and save—”
Here the words trailed away again into a half sob, and the melody continued in broken, halting chords that flickered out and faded into the shadows of the room.
David’s heart was pierced with a belief that Aunt Clarinda was right and something was the matter with Marcia. A great trouble and tenderness, and almost jealousy, leaped up in his heart which were incomprehensible to him. Who was Marcia singing this song for? That it was a true cry from a lonely soul he could but believe. Was she feeling her prison-bars here in the lonely old house with only a forlorn manwhose life and love had been thrown away upon another? Poor child! Poor child! If he might but save her from suffering, cover her with his own tenderness and make her content with that. Would it be possible if he devoted himself to it to make her forget the one for whom she was sighing; to bring peace and a certain sort of sweet forgetfulness and interest in other things into her life? He wanted to make a new life for her, his little girl whom he had so unthinkingly torn from the home nest and her future, and compelled to take up his barren way with him. He would make it up to her if such a thing were possible. Then he opened the door.
In the soft green light of the noonday coming through the shades Marcia’s color did not show as it flew into her cheeks. Her hands grew weak and dropped upon the keys with a soft little tinkle of surprise and joy. She sprang up and came a step toward him, then clasped her hands against her breast and stopped shyly. David coming into the room, questioning, wondering, anxious, stopped midway too, and for an instant they looked upon one another. David saw a new look in the girl’s face. She seemed older, much older than when he had left her. The sweet round cheeks were thinner, her mouth drooped sadly, pathetically. For an instant he longed to take her in his arms and kiss her. The longing startled him. So many months he had thought of only Kate in that way, and then had tried to teach himself never to think of Kate or any woman as one to be caressed by him, that it shocked him. He felt that he had been disloyal to himself, to honor,—to Kate—no—not to Kate, he had no call to be loyal to her. She had not been loyal to him ever. Perhaps rather he would have put it loyalty to Love for Love’s sake, love that is worthy to be crowned by a woman’s love.
With all these mingling feelings David was embarrassed. He came toward her slowly, trying to be natural, trying to get back his former way with her. He put out his hand stiffly to shake hands as he had done when he left, and timidlyshe put hers into it, yet as their fingers closed there leaped from one to the other a thrill of sweetness, that neither guessed the other knew and each put by in memory for closer inspection as to what it could mean. Their hands clung together longer than either had meant, and there was something pleasant to each in the fact that they were together again. David thought it was just because it was home, rest, and peace, and a relief from his anxiety about Marcia now that he saw she was all right. Marcia knew it was better to have David standing there with his strong fingers about her trembling ones, than to have anything else in the world. But she would not have told him so.
“That was a sweet song you were singing,”said David.“I hope you were singing it for me, and that it was true! I am glad I am come home, and you must sing it again for me soon.”
It was not in the least what he intended to say, and the words tumbled themselves out so tumultuously that he was almost ashamed and wondered if Marcia would think he had lost his mind in New York. Marcia, dear child, treasured them every word and hugged them to her heart, and carried them in her prayers.
They went out together and got dinner as if they had been two children, with a wild excited kind of glee; and they tried to get back their natural ways of doing and saying things, but they could not.
Instead they were forever blundering and halting in what they said; coming face to face and almost running over one another as they tried to help each other; laughing and blushing and blundering again.
When they each tried to reach for the tea kettle to fill the coffee pot and their fingers touched, each drew back and pretended not to notice, but yet had felt the contact sweet.
They were lingering over the dinner when Hannah Heath came to the door. David had been telling of some of hisadventures in detail and was enjoying the play of expression on Marcia’s face as she listened eagerly to every word. They had pushed their chairs back a little and were sitting there talking,—or rather David was talking, Marcia listening. Hannah stood for one jealous instant and saw it all. This was what she had dreamed for her own long years back, she and David. She had questioned much just what feeling there might be between him and Marcia, and now more than ever she desired to bring him face to face with Kate and read for herself what the truth had been. She hated Marcia for that look of intense delight and sympathy upon her face; hated her that she had the right to sit there and hear what David had to say—some stupid stuff about railroads. She did not see that she herself would have made an ill companion for a man like David.
As yet neither Marcia nor David had touched upon the subjects which had troubled them. They did not realize it, but they were so suddenly happy in each other’s company they had forgotten for the moment. The pleasant converse was broken up at once. Marcia’s face hardened into something like alarm as she saw who stood in the doorway.
“Why, David, have you got home at last?”said Hannah.“I did not know it.”That was an untruth. She had watched him from behind Grandmother Heath’s rose bush.“Where did you come from last? New York? Oh, then you saw Mrs. Leavenworth. How is she? I fell in love with her when I was there.”
Now David had never fully taken in Kate’s married name. He knew it of course, but in his present state of happiness at getting home, and his absorption in the work he had been doing, the name“Mrs. Leavenworth”conveyed nothing whatever to David’s mind. He looked blankly at Hannah and replied indifferently enough with a cool air.“No, Miss Hannah, I had no time for social life. I was busy every minute I was away.”
David never expected Hannah to say anything worth listening to, and he was so full of his subject that he had not noticed that she made no reply.
Hannah watched him curiously as he talked, his remarks after all were directed more to Marcia than to her, and when he paused she said with a contemptuous sneer in her voice,“I never could understand, David, how you who seem to have so much sense in other things will take up with such fanciful, impractical dreams as this railroad. Lemuel says it’ll never run.”
Hannah quoted her lover with a proud bridling of her head as if the matter were settled once and for all. It was the first time she had allowed the world to see that she acknowledged her relation to Lemuel. She was not averse to having David understand that she felt there were other men in the world besides himself. But David turned merry eyes on her.
“Lemuel says?”he repeated, and he made a sudden movement with his arm which sent a knife and spoon from the table in a clatter upon the floor.
“And how much does Lemuel know about the matter?”
“Lemuel has good practical common sense,”said Hannah, vexed,“and he knows what is possible and what is not. He does not need to travel all over the country on a wild goose chase to learn that.”
Now that she had accepted him Hannah did not intend to allow Lemuel to be discounted.
“He has not long to wait to be convinced,”said David thoughtfully and unaware of her tart tone.“Before the year is out it will be a settled fact that every one can see.”
“Well, it’s beyond comprehension what you care, anyway,”said Hannah contemptuously.“Did you really spend all your time in New York on such things? It seems incredible. There certainly must have been other attractions?”
There was insinuation in Hannah’s voice though it was smooth as butter, but David had had long years of experiencein hearing Hannah Heath’s sharp tongue. He minded it no more than he would have minded the buzzing of a fly. Marcia’s color rose, however. She made a hasty errand to the pantry to put away the bread, and her eyes flashed at Hannah through the close drawn pantry door. But Hannah did not give up so easily.
“It is strange you did not stay with Mrs. Leavenworth,”she said.“She told me you were one of her dearest friends, and you used to be quite fond of one another.”
Then it suddenly dawned upon David who Mrs. Leavenworth was, and a sternness overspread his face.
“Mrs. Leavenworth, did you say? Ah! I did not understand. I saw her but once and that for only a few minutes soon after I first arrived. I did not see her again.”His voice was cool and steady. Marcia coming from the pantry with set face, ready for defence if there was any she could give, marvelled at his coolness. Her heart was gripped with fear, and yet leaping with joy at David’s words. He had not seen Kate but once. He had known she was there and yet had kept away. Hannah’s insinuations were false. Mr. Temple’s words were untrue. She had known it all the time, yet what sorrow they had given her!
“By the way, Marcia,”said David, turning toward her with a smile that seemed to erase the sternness in his voice but a moment before.“Did you not write me some news? Miss Hannah, you are to be congratulated I believe. Lemuel is a good man. I wish you much happiness.”
And thus did David, with a pleasant speech, turn aside Hannah Heath’s dart. Yet while she went from the house with a smile and a sound of pleasant wishes in her ears, she carried with her a bitter heart and a revengeful one.
David was suddenly brought face to face with the thing he had to tell Marcia. He sat watching her as she went back and forth from pantry to kitchen, and at last he came and stood beside her and took her hands in his looking down earnestlyinto her face. It seemed terrible to him to tell this thing to the innocent girl, now, just when he was growing anxious to win her confidence, but it must be told, and better now than later lest he might be tempted not to tell it at all.
“Marcia!”He said the name tenderly, with an inflection he had never used before. It was not lover-like, nor passionate, but it reached her heart and drew her eyes to his and the color to her cheeks. She thought how different his clasp was from Harry Temple’s hateful touch. She looked up at him trustingly, and waited.
“You heard what I said to Hannah Heath just now, about—your——”He paused, dissatisfied—“about Mrs. Leavenworth”—it was as if he would set the subject of his words far from them. Marcia’s heart beat wildly, remembering all that she had been told, yet she looked bravely, trustingly into his eyes.
“It was true what I told her. I met Mrs. Leavenworth but once while I was away. It was in her own home and she sent for me saying she was in trouble. She told me that she was in terrible anxiety lest I would not forgive her. She begged me to say that I forgave her, and when I told her I did she asked me to kiss her once to prove it. I was utterly overcome and did so, but the moment my lips touched hers I knew that I was doing wrong and I put her from me. She begged me to remain, and I now know that she was utterly false from the first. It was but a part she was playing when she touched my heart until I yielded and sinned. I have only learned that recently, within a few days, and from words written by her own hand to another. I will tell you about it all sometime. But I want to confess to you this wrong I have done, and to let you know that I went away from her that day and have never seen her since. She had said she was without money, and I left her all I had with me. I know now that that too was unwise,—perhaps wrong. I feel that all this was a sin against you. I would like you to forgive me if you can, andI want you to know that this other woman who was the cause of our coming together, and yet has separated us ever since we have been together, is no longer anything to me. Even if she and I were both free as we were when we first met, we could never be anything but strangers. Can you forgive me now, Marcia, and can you ever trust me after what I have told you?”
Marcia looked into his eyes, and loved him but the more for his confession. She felt she could forgive him anything, and her whole soul in her countenance answered with her voice, as she said:“I can.”It made David think of their wedding day, and suddenly it came over him with a thrill that this sweet womanly woman belonged to him. He marvelled at her sweet forgiveness. The joy of it surprised him beyond measure.
“You have had some sad experiences yourself. Will you tell me now all about it?”He asked the question wistfully still holding her hands in a firm close grasp, and she let them lie nestling there feeling safe as birds in the nest.
“Why, how did you know?”questioned Marcia, her whole face flooded with rosy light for joy at his kind ways and relief that she did not have to open the story.
“Oh, a little bird, or a guardian angel whispered the tale,”he said pleasantly.“Come into the room where we can be sure no Hannah Heaths will trouble us,”and he drew her into the library and seated her beside him on the sofa.
“But, indeed, Marcia,”and his face sobered,“it is no light matter to me, what has happened to you. I have been in an agony all the way home lest I might not find you safe and well after having escaped so terrible a danger.”
He drew the whole story from her bit by bit, tenderly questioning her, his face blazing with righteous wrath, and darkening with his wider knowledge as she told on to the end, and showed him plainly the black heart of the villain who had dared so diabolical a conspiracy; and the inhumanity of thewoman who had helped in the intrigue against her own sister,—nay even instigated it. His feelings were too deep for utterance. He was shaken to the depths. His new comprehension of Kate’s character was confirmed at the worst. Marcia could only guess his deep feelings from his shaken countenance and the earnest way in which he folded his hands over hers and said in low tones filled with emotion:“We should be deeply thankful to God for saving you, and I must be very careful of you after this. That villain shall be searched out and punished if it takes a lifetime, and Miranda,—what shall we do for Miranda? Perhaps we can induce her grandmother to let us have her sometime to help take care of us. We seem to be unable to get on without her. We’ll see what we can do sometime in return for the great service she has rendered.”
But the old clock striking in the hall suddenly reminded David that he should go at once to the office, so he hurried away and Marcia set about her work with energy, a happy song of praise in her heart.
There was much to be done. David had said he would scarcely have time to go over to his aunts that night, so she had decided to invite them to tea. She would far rather have had David to herself this first evening, but it would please them to come, especially Aunt Clarinda. There was not much time to prepare supper to be sure, but she would stir up a gingerbread, make some puffy cream biscuits, and there was lovely white honey and fresh eggs and peach preserves.
So she ran to Deacon Appleby’s to get some cream for her biscuits and to ask Tommy Appleby to harness David’s horse and drive over for Aunt Clarinda. Then she hurried down to the aunts to give her invitation.
Aunt Clarinda sat down in her calico-covered rocking chair, wiped her dear old eyes and her glasses, and said, over and over again:“Dear child! Bless her! Bless her!”
It was a happy gathering that evening. David was as pleased as they could have desired, and looked about uponthe group in the dining-room with genuine boyish pleasure. It did his heart good to see Aunt Clarinda there. It had never occurred to him before that she could come. He turned to Marcia with a light in his eyes that fully repaid her for the little trouble she had had in carrying out her plan. He began to feel that home meant something even though he had lost the home of his long dreams and ideals.
He talked a great deal about his trip, and in between the sentences, he caught himself watching Marcia, noting the curve of her round chin, the dimple in her left cheek when she smiled, the way her hair waved off from her forehead, the pink curves of her well-shaped ears. He found a distinct pleasure in noting these things and he wondered at himself. It was as if he had suddenly been placed before some great painting and become possessed of the knowledge wherewith to appreciate art to its fullest. It was as if he had heard a marvellous piece of music and had the eyes and ears of his understanding opened to take in the gracious melodies and majestic harmonies.
Aunt Clarinda watched his eyes, and Aunt Clarinda was satisfied. Aunt Hortense watched his eyes, jealously and sighed. Aunt Amelia watched his eyes and set her lips and feared to herself.“He will spoil her if he does like that. She will think she can walk right over him.”But Aunt Clarinda knew better. She recognized the eternal right of love.
They took the three old ladies home in the rising of an early moon, Marcia walking demurely on the sidewalk with Aunt Amelia, while David drove the chaise with Aunt Clarinda and Aunt Hortense.
As he gently lifted Aunt Clarinda down and helped her to her room David felt her old hands tremble and press his arm, and when he had reached her door he stooped and kissed her.
“Davie,”she said in the voice that used to comfort his little childish troubles, or tell him of some nice surprise shehad for him,“Davie, she’s a dear child! She’s just as good as gold. She’s the princess I used to put in all your fairy-tales. David, she’s just the right one for you!”and David answered earnestly, solemnly, as if he were discovering a truth which surprised him but yet was not unwelcome.“I believe she is, Aunt Clarinda.”
They drove to the barn and Marcia sat in the chaise in the sweet hay-scented darkness while David put up the horse by the cobwebby light of the lantern; then they walked quietly back to the house. David had drawn Marcia’s hand through his arm and it rested softly on his coat sleeve. She was silently happy, she knew not why, afraid to think of it lest to-morrow would show her there was nothing out of the ordinary monotony to be happy about.
David was silent, wondering at himself. What was this that had come to him? A new pleasure in life. A little trembling rill of joy bubbling up in his heart; a rift in the dark clouds of fate; a show of sunshine where he had expected never to see the light again. Why was it so pleasant to have that little hand resting upon his arm? Was it really pleasant or was it only a part of the restfulness of getting home again away from strange faces and uncomfortable beds, and poor tables?
They let themselves into the house as if they were walking into a new world together and both were glad to be there again. When she got up to her room Marcia went and stood before the glass and looked at herself by the flickering flame of the candle. Her eyes were bright and her cheeks burned red in the centre like two soft deep roses. She felt she hardly knew herself. She tried to be critical. Was this person she was examining a pretty person? Would she be called so in comparison with Kate and Hannah Heath? Would a man,—would David,—if his heart were not filled,—think so? She decided not. She felt she was too immature. There was too much shyness in her glance, too much babyishness about hermouth. No, David could never have thought her beautiful, even if he had seen her before he knew Kate. But perhaps, if Kate had been married first and away and then he had come to their home, perhaps if he knew no one else well enough to love,—could he have cared for her?
Oh, it was a dreadful, beautiful thought. It thrilled through and through her till she hid her face from her own gaze. She suddenly kissed the hand that had rested on his sleeve, and then reproached herself for it. She loved him, but was it right to do so?
As for David, he was sitting on the side of his bed with his chin in his hands examining himself.
He had supposed that with the reading of those letters which had come to him but two short days before all possibility of love and happiness had died, but lo! he found himself thrilling with pleasure over the look in a girl’s soft eyes, and the touch of her hand. And that girl was his wife. It was enough to keep him awake to try to understand himself.
CHAPTER XXVIHannah Heath’s wedding day dawned bright enough for a less calculating bride.David did not get home until half past three. He had been obliged to drive out to the starting place of the new railroad, near Albany, where it was important that he get a few points correctly. On the morrow was to be the initial trip, by the Mohawk and Hudson Railroad, of the first train drawn by a steam engine in the state of New York.His article about it, bargained for by a New York paper, must be on its way by special post as soon after the starting of the train as possible. He must have all items accurate;technicalities of preparation; description of engine and coaches; details of arrangements, etc.; before he added the final paragraphs describing the actual start of the train. His article was practically done now, save for these few items. He had started early that morning on his long drive, and, being detained longer than he had expected, arrived at home with barely time to put himself into wedding garments, and hasten in at the last moment with Marcia who stood quietly waiting for him in the front hall. They were the last guests to arrive. It was time for the ceremony, but the bride, true to her nature to the last, still kept Lemuel waiting; and Lemuel, true to the end, stood smiling and patient awaiting her pleasure.David and Marcia entered the wide parlor and shook hands here and there with those assembled, though for the most part a hushed air pervaded the room, as it always does when something is about to happen.Soon after their arrival some one in purple silk came down the stairs and seated herself in a vacant chair close to wherethe bride was to stand. She had gold hair and eyes like forget-me-nots. She was directly opposite to David and Marcia. David was engrossed in a whispered conversation with Mr. Brentwood about the events of the morrow, and did not notice her entrance, though she paused in the doorway and searched him directly from amongst the company before she took her seat. Marcia, who was talking with Rose Brentwood, caught the vision of purple and gold and turned to face for one brief instant the scornful, half-merry glance of her sister. The blood in her face fled back to her heart and left it white.Then Marcia summoned all her courage and braced herself to face what was to come. She forced herself to smile in answer to Rose Brentwood’s question. But all the while she was trying to understand what it was in her sister’s look that had hurt her so. It was not the anger,—for that she was prepared. It was not the scorn, for she had often faced that. Was it the almost merriment? Yes, there was the sting. She had felt it so keenly when as a little girl Kate had taken to making fun of some whim of hers. She could not see why Kate should find cause for fun just now. It was as if she by her look ignored Marcia’s relation to David in scornful laugh and appropriated him herself. Marcia’s inmost soul rebelled. The color came back as if by force of her will. She would show Kate,—or she would show David at least,—that she could bear all things for him. She would play well her part of wife this day. The happy two months that had passed since David came back from New York had made her almost feel as if she was really his and he hers. For this hour she would forget that it was otherwise. She would look at him and speak to him as if he had been her husband for years, as if there were the truest understanding between them,—as indeed, of a certain wistful, pleasant sort there was. She would not let the dreadful thought of Kate cloud her face for others to see. Bravely she faced the company, but her heart under Kate’s blue frock sent up a swift and pleadingprayer demanding of a higher Power something she knew she had not in herself, and must therefore find in Him who had created her. It was the most trustful, and needy prayer that Marcia ever uttered and yet there were no words, not even the closing of an eyelid. Only her heart took the attitude of prayer.The door upstairs opened in a business-like way, and Hannah’s composed voice was heard giving a direction. Hannah’s silken tread began to be audible. Miranda told Marcia afterward that she kept her standing at the window for an hour beforehand to see when David arrived, and when they started over to the house. Hannah kept herself posted on what was going on in the room below as well as if she were down there. She knew where David and Marcia stood, and told Kate exactly where to go. It was like Hannah that in the moment of her sacrifice of the long cherished hopes of her life she should have planned a dramatic revenge to help carry her through.The bride’s rustle became at last so audible that even David and Mr. Brentwood heard and turned from their absorbing conversation to the business in hand.Hannah was in the doorway when David looked up, very cold and beautiful in her bridal array despite the years she had waited, and almost at once David saw the vision in purple and gold like a saucy pansy, standing near her.Kate’s eyes were fixed upon him with their most bewitching, dancing smile of recognition, like a naughty little child who had been in hiding for a time and now peeps out laughing over the discomfiture of its elders. So Kate encountered the steadfast gaze of David’s astonished eyes.But there was no light of love in those eyes as she had expected to see. Instead there grew in his face such a blaze of righteous indignation as the lord of the wedding feast might have turned upon the person who came in without a wedding garment. In spite of herself Kate was disconcerted. Shewas astonished. She felt that David was challenging her presence there. It seemed to her he was looking through her, searching her, judging her, sentencing her, and casting her out, and presently his eyes wandered beyond her through the open hall door and out into God’s green world; and when they came back and next rested upon her his look had frozen into the glance of a stranger.Angry, ashamed, baffled, she bit her lips in vexation, but tried to keep the merry smile. In her heart she hated him, and vowed to make him bow before her smiles once more.David did not see the bride at all to notice her, but the bride, unlike the one of the psalmist’s vision whose eyes were upon“her dear bridegroom’s face,”was looking straight across the room with evident intent to observe David.The ceremony proceeded, and Hannah went through her part correctly and calmly, aware that she was giving herself to Lemuel Skinner irrevocably, yet perfectly aware also of the discomfiture of the sweet-faced girl-wife who sat across the room bravely watching the ceremony with white cheeks and eyes that shone like righteous lights.Marcia did not look at David. She was with him in heart, suffering with him, feeling for him, quivering in every nerve for what he might be enduring. She had no need to look. Her part was to ignore, and help to cover.They went through it all well. Not once did Aunt Amelia or Aunt Hortense notice anything strange in the demeanor of their nephew or his wife. Aunt Clarinda was not there. She was not fond of Hannah.As soon as the service was over and the relatives had broken the solemn hush by kissing the bride, David turned and spoke to Rose Brentwood, making some smiling remark about the occasion. Rose Brentwood was looking her very prettiest in a rose-sprigged delaine and her wavy dark hair in a beaded net tied round with a rose-colored lute-string ribbon.Kate flushed angrily at this. If it had been Marcia to whom he had spoken she would have judged he did it out of pique, but a pretty stranger coming upon the scene at this critical moment was trying. And then, too, David’s manner was so indifferent, so utterly natural. He did not seem in the least troubled by the sight of herself.David and Marcia did not go up to speak to the bride at once. David stepped back into the deep window seat to talk with Mr. Brentwood, and seemed to be in no hurry to follow the procession who were filing past the calm bride to congratulate her. Marcia remained quietly talking to Rose Brentwood.At last David turned toward his wife with a smile as though he had known she was there all the time, and had felt her sympathy. Her heart leaped up with new strength at that look, and her husband’s firm touch as he drew her hand within his arm to lead her over to the bride gave her courage. She felt that she could face the battle, and with a bright smile that lit up her whole lovely face she marched bravely to the front to do or to die.“I had about given up expecting any congratulations from you,”said Hannah sharply as they came near. It was quite evident she had been watching for them.“I wish you much joy, Mrs. Skinner,”said David mechanically, scarcely feeling that she would have it for he knew her unhappy, dissatisfied nature.“Yes,”said Marcia,“I wish you may be happy,—as happy as I am!”It was an impetuous, childish thing to say, and Marcia scarcely realized what words she meant to speak until they were out, and then she blushed rosy red. Was she happy? Why was she happy? Yes, even in the present trying circumstances she suddenly felt a great deep happiness bubbling up in her heart. Was it David’s look and his strong arm under her hand?Hannah darted a look at her. She was stung by the words. But did the girl-bride before her mean to flaunt her own triumphs in her face? Did she fully understand? Or was she trying to act a part and make them believe she was happy? Hannah was baffled once more as she had been before with Marcia.Kate turned upon Marcia for one piercing instant again, that look of understanding, mocking merriment, which cut through the soul of her sister.But did Marcia imagine it, or was it true that at her words to Hannah, David’s arm had pressed hers closer as they stood there in the crowd? The thought thrilled through her and gave her greater strength.Hannah turned toward Kate.“David,”she said, as she had always called him, and it is possible that she enjoyed the triumph of this touch of intimacy before her guest,“you knew my friend Mrs. Leavenworth!”David bowed gravely, but did not attempt to put out his hand to take the one which Kate offered in greeting. Instead he laid it over Marcia’s little trembling one on his arm as if to steady it.“We have met before,”said David briefly in an impenetrable tone, and turning passed out of the room to make way for the Brentwoods who were behind him.Hannah scarcely treated the Brentwoods with decency, so vexed was she with the way things were turning out. To think that David should so completely baffle her. She turned an annoyed look at Kate, who flashed her blue eyes contemptuously as if to blame Hannah.Soon the whole little gathering were in the dining-room and wide hall being served with Grandmother Heath’s fried chicken and currant jelly, delicate soda biscuits, and fruit cake baked months before and left to ripen.The ordeal through which they were passing made Davidand Marcia feel, as they sat down, that they would not be able to swallow a mouthful, but strangely enough they found themselves eating with relish, each to encourage the other perhaps, but almost enjoying it, and feeling that they had not yet met more than they would be able to withstand.Kate was seated on the other side of the dining-room, by Hannah, and she watched the two incessantly with that half merry contemptuous look, toying with her own food, and apparently waiting for their acting to cease and David to put on his true character. She never doubted for an instant that they were acting.The wedding supper was over at last. The guests crowded out to the front stoop to bid good-bye to the happy bridegroom and cross-looking bride, who seemed as if she left the gala scene reluctantly.Marcia, for the instant, was separated from David, who stepped down upon the grass and stood to one side to let the bridal party pass. The minister was at the other side. Marcia had slipped into the shelter of Aunt Amelia’s black silk presence and wished she might run out the back door and away home.Suddenly a shimmer of gold with the sunlight through it caught her gaze, and a glimpse of sheeny purple. There, close behind David, standing upon the top step, quite unseen by him, stood her sister Kate.Marcia’s heart gave a quick thump and seemed to stop, then went painfully laboring on. She stood quite still watching for the moment to come when David would turn around and see Kate that she might look into his face and read there what was written.Hannah had been put carefully into the carriage by the adoring Lemuel, with many a pat, and a shaking of cushions, and an adjustment of curtains to suit her whim. It pleased Hannah, now in her last lingering moment of freedom, to be exacting and show others what a slave her husband was.They all stood for an instant looking after the carriage, but Marcia watched David. Then, just as the carriage wound around the curve in the road and was lost from view, she saw him turn, and at once knew she must not see his face as he looked at Kate. Closing her eyes like a flash she turned and fled upstairs to get her shawl and bonnet. There she took refuge behind the great white curtains, and hid her face for several minutes, praying wildly, she hardly knew what, thankful she had been kept from the sight which yet she had longed to behold.As David turned to go up the steps and search for Marcia he was confronted by Kate’s beautiful, smiling face, radiant as it used to be when it had first charmed him. He exulted, as he looked into it, that it did not any longer charm.“David, you don’t seem a bit glad to see me,”blamed Kate sweetly in her pretty, childish tones, looking into his face with those blue eyes so like to liquid skies. Almost there was a hint of tears in them. He had been wont to kiss them when she looked like that. Now he felt only disgust as some of the flippant sentences in her letters to Harry Temple came to his mind.His face was stern and unrecognizing.“David, you are angry with me yet! You said you would forgive!”The gentle reproach minimized the crime, and enlarged the punishment. It was Kate’s way. The pretty pout on the rosy lips was the same as it used to be when she chided him for some trifling forgetfulness of her wishes.The other guests had all gone into the house now. David made no response, but, nothing daunted, Kate spoke again.“I have something very important to consult you about. I came here on purpose. Can you give me some time to-morrow morning?”She wrinkled her pretty face into a thousand dimples and looked her most bewitching like a naughty child who knew she was loved in spite of anything, and coquettishly puttingher head on one side, added, in the tone she used of old to cajole him:“You know you never could refuse me anything, David.”David did not smile. He did not answer the look. With a voice that recognized her only as a stranger he said gravely:“I have an important engagement to-morrow morning.”“But you will put off the engagement.”She said it confidently.“It is impossible!”said David decidedly.“I am starting quite early to drive over to Albany. I am under obligation to be present at the starting of the new steam railroad.”“Oh, how nice!”said Kate, clapping her hands childishly,“I have wanted to be there, and now you will take me. Then I—we—can talk on the way. How like old times that will be!”She flashed him a smile of molten sunshine, alluring and transforming.“That, too, is impossible, Mrs. Leavenworth. My wife accompanies me!”he answered her promptly and clearly and with a curt bow left her and went into the house.Kate Leavenworth was angry, and for Kate to be angry, meant to visit it upon some one, the offender if possible, if not the nearest to the offender. She had failed utterly in her attempt to win back the friendship of her former lover. She had hoped to enjoy his attention to a certain extent and bathe her sad (?) heart in the wistful glances of the man she had jilted; and incidentally perhaps be invited to spend a little time in his house, by which she would contrive to have a good many of her own ways. A rich brother-in-law who adored one was not a bad thing to have, especially when his wife was one’s own little sister whom one had always dominated. She was tired of New York and at this season of the year the country was much preferable. She could thus contrive to hoard her small income, and save for the next winter, as well as secure a possible entrance finally into her father’s good graces again through the forgiveness of Davidand Marcia. But she had failed. Could it be that he cared for Marcia! That child! Scout the idea! She would discover at once.Hurriedly she searched through the rooms downstairs and then went stealthily upstairs. Instinctively she went to the room where Marcia had hidden herself.Marcia, with that strong upward breath of prayer had grown steady again. She was standing with her back to the door looking out of the window toward her own home when Kate entered the room. Without turning about she felt Kate’s presence and knew that it was she. The moment had come. She turned around, her face calm and sweet, with two red spots upon her cheeks, and her bonnet,—Kate’s bonnet and shawl, Kate’s fine lace shawl sent from Paris—grasped in her hands.They faced each other, the sisters, and much was understood between them in a flash without a word spoken. Marcia suddenly saw herself standing there in Kate’s rightful place, Kate’s things in her hands, Kate’s garments upon her body, Kate’s husband held by her. It was as if Kate charged her with all these things, as she looked her through and over, from her slipper tips to the ruffle around the neck. And oh, the scorn that flamed from Kate’s eyes playing over her, and scorching her cheeks into crimson, and burning her lips dry and stiff! And yet when Kate’s eyes reached her face and charged her with the supreme offense of taking David from her, Marcia’s eyes looked bravely back, and were not burned by the fire, and she felt that her soul was not even scorched by it. Something about the thought of David like an angelic presence seemed to save her.The silence between them was so intense that nothing else could be heard by the two. The voices below were drowned by it, the footstep on the stair was as if it were not.At last Kate spoke, angered still more by her sister’s soft eyes which gazed steadily back and did not droop before herown flashing onslaught. Her voice was cold and cruel. There was nothing sisterly in it, nothing to remind either that the other had ever been beloved.“Fool!”hissed Kate.“Silly fool! Did you think you could steal a husband as you stole your clothes? Did you suppose marrying David would make him yours, as putting on my clothes seemed to make them yours? Well I can tell you he will never be a husband to you. He doesn’t love you and he never can. He will always love me. He’s as much mine as if I had married him, in spite of all your attempts to take him. Oh, you needn’t put up your baby mouth and pucker it as if you were going to cry. Cry away. It won’t do any good. You can’t make a man yours, any more than you can make somebody’s clothes yours. They don’t fit you any more than he does. You look horrid in blue, and you know it, in spite of all your prinking around and pretending. I’d be ashamed to be tricked out that way and know that every dud I had was made for somebody else. As for going around and pretending you have a husband—it’s a lie. You know he’s nothing to you. You know he never told you he cared for you. I tell you he’s mine, and he always will be.”“Kate, you’re married!”cried Marcia in shocked tones.“How can you talk like that?”“Married! Nonsense! What difference does that make? It’s hearts that count, not marriages. Has your marriage made you a wife? Answer me that! Has it? Does David love you? Does he ever kiss you? Yet he came to see me in New York this winter, and took me in his arms and kissed me. He gave me money too. See this brooch?”—she exhibited a jeweled pin—“that was bought with his money. You see he loves me still. I could bring him to my feet with a word to-day. He would kiss me if I asked him. He is weak as water in my hands.”Marcia’s cheeks burned with shame and anger. Almost she felt at the limit of her strength. For the first time inher life she felt like striking,—striking her own sister. Horrified over her feelings, and the rage which was tearing her soul, she looked up, and there stood David in the doorway, like some tall avenging angel!Kate had her back that way and did not see at once, but Marcia’s eyes rested on him hungrily, pleadingly, and his answered hers. From her sudden calmness Kate saw there was some one near, and turning, looked at David. But he did not glance her way. How much or how little he had heard of Kate’s tirade, which in her passion had been keyed in a high voice, he never let them know and neither dared to ask him, lest perhaps he had not heard anything. There was a light of steel in his eyes toward everything but Marcia, and his tone had in it kindness and a recognition of mutual understanding as he said:“If you are ready we had better go now, dear, had we not?”Oh how gladly Marcia followed her husband down the stairs and out the door! She scarcely knew how she went through the formalities of getting away. It seemed as she looked back upon them that David had sheltered her from it all, and said everything needful for her, and all she had done was to smile an assent. He talked calmly to her all the way home; told her Mr. Brentwood’s opinion about the change in the commerce of the country the new railroad was going to make; told her though he must have known she could not listen. Perhaps both were conscious of the bedroom window over the way and a pair of blue eyes that might be watching them as they passed into the house. David took hold of her arm and helped her up the steps of their own home as if she had been some great lady. Marcia wondered if Kate saw that. In her heart she blessed David for this outward sign of their relationship. It gave her shame a little cover at least. She glanced up toward the next house as she passed in and felt sure she saw a glimmer of purple move away from the window. Then David shut the door behind them and led her gently in.
Hannah Heath’s wedding day dawned bright enough for a less calculating bride.
David did not get home until half past three. He had been obliged to drive out to the starting place of the new railroad, near Albany, where it was important that he get a few points correctly. On the morrow was to be the initial trip, by the Mohawk and Hudson Railroad, of the first train drawn by a steam engine in the state of New York.
His article about it, bargained for by a New York paper, must be on its way by special post as soon after the starting of the train as possible. He must have all items accurate;technicalities of preparation; description of engine and coaches; details of arrangements, etc.; before he added the final paragraphs describing the actual start of the train. His article was practically done now, save for these few items. He had started early that morning on his long drive, and, being detained longer than he had expected, arrived at home with barely time to put himself into wedding garments, and hasten in at the last moment with Marcia who stood quietly waiting for him in the front hall. They were the last guests to arrive. It was time for the ceremony, but the bride, true to her nature to the last, still kept Lemuel waiting; and Lemuel, true to the end, stood smiling and patient awaiting her pleasure.
David and Marcia entered the wide parlor and shook hands here and there with those assembled, though for the most part a hushed air pervaded the room, as it always does when something is about to happen.
Soon after their arrival some one in purple silk came down the stairs and seated herself in a vacant chair close to wherethe bride was to stand. She had gold hair and eyes like forget-me-nots. She was directly opposite to David and Marcia. David was engrossed in a whispered conversation with Mr. Brentwood about the events of the morrow, and did not notice her entrance, though she paused in the doorway and searched him directly from amongst the company before she took her seat. Marcia, who was talking with Rose Brentwood, caught the vision of purple and gold and turned to face for one brief instant the scornful, half-merry glance of her sister. The blood in her face fled back to her heart and left it white.
Then Marcia summoned all her courage and braced herself to face what was to come. She forced herself to smile in answer to Rose Brentwood’s question. But all the while she was trying to understand what it was in her sister’s look that had hurt her so. It was not the anger,—for that she was prepared. It was not the scorn, for she had often faced that. Was it the almost merriment? Yes, there was the sting. She had felt it so keenly when as a little girl Kate had taken to making fun of some whim of hers. She could not see why Kate should find cause for fun just now. It was as if she by her look ignored Marcia’s relation to David in scornful laugh and appropriated him herself. Marcia’s inmost soul rebelled. The color came back as if by force of her will. She would show Kate,—or she would show David at least,—that she could bear all things for him. She would play well her part of wife this day. The happy two months that had passed since David came back from New York had made her almost feel as if she was really his and he hers. For this hour she would forget that it was otherwise. She would look at him and speak to him as if he had been her husband for years, as if there were the truest understanding between them,—as indeed, of a certain wistful, pleasant sort there was. She would not let the dreadful thought of Kate cloud her face for others to see. Bravely she faced the company, but her heart under Kate’s blue frock sent up a swift and pleadingprayer demanding of a higher Power something she knew she had not in herself, and must therefore find in Him who had created her. It was the most trustful, and needy prayer that Marcia ever uttered and yet there were no words, not even the closing of an eyelid. Only her heart took the attitude of prayer.
The door upstairs opened in a business-like way, and Hannah’s composed voice was heard giving a direction. Hannah’s silken tread began to be audible. Miranda told Marcia afterward that she kept her standing at the window for an hour beforehand to see when David arrived, and when they started over to the house. Hannah kept herself posted on what was going on in the room below as well as if she were down there. She knew where David and Marcia stood, and told Kate exactly where to go. It was like Hannah that in the moment of her sacrifice of the long cherished hopes of her life she should have planned a dramatic revenge to help carry her through.
The bride’s rustle became at last so audible that even David and Mr. Brentwood heard and turned from their absorbing conversation to the business in hand.
Hannah was in the doorway when David looked up, very cold and beautiful in her bridal array despite the years she had waited, and almost at once David saw the vision in purple and gold like a saucy pansy, standing near her.
Kate’s eyes were fixed upon him with their most bewitching, dancing smile of recognition, like a naughty little child who had been in hiding for a time and now peeps out laughing over the discomfiture of its elders. So Kate encountered the steadfast gaze of David’s astonished eyes.
But there was no light of love in those eyes as she had expected to see. Instead there grew in his face such a blaze of righteous indignation as the lord of the wedding feast might have turned upon the person who came in without a wedding garment. In spite of herself Kate was disconcerted. Shewas astonished. She felt that David was challenging her presence there. It seemed to her he was looking through her, searching her, judging her, sentencing her, and casting her out, and presently his eyes wandered beyond her through the open hall door and out into God’s green world; and when they came back and next rested upon her his look had frozen into the glance of a stranger.
Angry, ashamed, baffled, she bit her lips in vexation, but tried to keep the merry smile. In her heart she hated him, and vowed to make him bow before her smiles once more.
David did not see the bride at all to notice her, but the bride, unlike the one of the psalmist’s vision whose eyes were upon“her dear bridegroom’s face,”was looking straight across the room with evident intent to observe David.
The ceremony proceeded, and Hannah went through her part correctly and calmly, aware that she was giving herself to Lemuel Skinner irrevocably, yet perfectly aware also of the discomfiture of the sweet-faced girl-wife who sat across the room bravely watching the ceremony with white cheeks and eyes that shone like righteous lights.
Marcia did not look at David. She was with him in heart, suffering with him, feeling for him, quivering in every nerve for what he might be enduring. She had no need to look. Her part was to ignore, and help to cover.
They went through it all well. Not once did Aunt Amelia or Aunt Hortense notice anything strange in the demeanor of their nephew or his wife. Aunt Clarinda was not there. She was not fond of Hannah.
As soon as the service was over and the relatives had broken the solemn hush by kissing the bride, David turned and spoke to Rose Brentwood, making some smiling remark about the occasion. Rose Brentwood was looking her very prettiest in a rose-sprigged delaine and her wavy dark hair in a beaded net tied round with a rose-colored lute-string ribbon.
Kate flushed angrily at this. If it had been Marcia to whom he had spoken she would have judged he did it out of pique, but a pretty stranger coming upon the scene at this critical moment was trying. And then, too, David’s manner was so indifferent, so utterly natural. He did not seem in the least troubled by the sight of herself.
David and Marcia did not go up to speak to the bride at once. David stepped back into the deep window seat to talk with Mr. Brentwood, and seemed to be in no hurry to follow the procession who were filing past the calm bride to congratulate her. Marcia remained quietly talking to Rose Brentwood.
At last David turned toward his wife with a smile as though he had known she was there all the time, and had felt her sympathy. Her heart leaped up with new strength at that look, and her husband’s firm touch as he drew her hand within his arm to lead her over to the bride gave her courage. She felt that she could face the battle, and with a bright smile that lit up her whole lovely face she marched bravely to the front to do or to die.
“I had about given up expecting any congratulations from you,”said Hannah sharply as they came near. It was quite evident she had been watching for them.
“I wish you much joy, Mrs. Skinner,”said David mechanically, scarcely feeling that she would have it for he knew her unhappy, dissatisfied nature.
“Yes,”said Marcia,“I wish you may be happy,—as happy as I am!”
It was an impetuous, childish thing to say, and Marcia scarcely realized what words she meant to speak until they were out, and then she blushed rosy red. Was she happy? Why was she happy? Yes, even in the present trying circumstances she suddenly felt a great deep happiness bubbling up in her heart. Was it David’s look and his strong arm under her hand?
Hannah darted a look at her. She was stung by the words. But did the girl-bride before her mean to flaunt her own triumphs in her face? Did she fully understand? Or was she trying to act a part and make them believe she was happy? Hannah was baffled once more as she had been before with Marcia.
Kate turned upon Marcia for one piercing instant again, that look of understanding, mocking merriment, which cut through the soul of her sister.
But did Marcia imagine it, or was it true that at her words to Hannah, David’s arm had pressed hers closer as they stood there in the crowd? The thought thrilled through her and gave her greater strength.
Hannah turned toward Kate.
“David,”she said, as she had always called him, and it is possible that she enjoyed the triumph of this touch of intimacy before her guest,“you knew my friend Mrs. Leavenworth!”
David bowed gravely, but did not attempt to put out his hand to take the one which Kate offered in greeting. Instead he laid it over Marcia’s little trembling one on his arm as if to steady it.
“We have met before,”said David briefly in an impenetrable tone, and turning passed out of the room to make way for the Brentwoods who were behind him.
Hannah scarcely treated the Brentwoods with decency, so vexed was she with the way things were turning out. To think that David should so completely baffle her. She turned an annoyed look at Kate, who flashed her blue eyes contemptuously as if to blame Hannah.
Soon the whole little gathering were in the dining-room and wide hall being served with Grandmother Heath’s fried chicken and currant jelly, delicate soda biscuits, and fruit cake baked months before and left to ripen.
The ordeal through which they were passing made Davidand Marcia feel, as they sat down, that they would not be able to swallow a mouthful, but strangely enough they found themselves eating with relish, each to encourage the other perhaps, but almost enjoying it, and feeling that they had not yet met more than they would be able to withstand.
Kate was seated on the other side of the dining-room, by Hannah, and she watched the two incessantly with that half merry contemptuous look, toying with her own food, and apparently waiting for their acting to cease and David to put on his true character. She never doubted for an instant that they were acting.
The wedding supper was over at last. The guests crowded out to the front stoop to bid good-bye to the happy bridegroom and cross-looking bride, who seemed as if she left the gala scene reluctantly.
Marcia, for the instant, was separated from David, who stepped down upon the grass and stood to one side to let the bridal party pass. The minister was at the other side. Marcia had slipped into the shelter of Aunt Amelia’s black silk presence and wished she might run out the back door and away home.
Suddenly a shimmer of gold with the sunlight through it caught her gaze, and a glimpse of sheeny purple. There, close behind David, standing upon the top step, quite unseen by him, stood her sister Kate.
Marcia’s heart gave a quick thump and seemed to stop, then went painfully laboring on. She stood quite still watching for the moment to come when David would turn around and see Kate that she might look into his face and read there what was written.
Hannah had been put carefully into the carriage by the adoring Lemuel, with many a pat, and a shaking of cushions, and an adjustment of curtains to suit her whim. It pleased Hannah, now in her last lingering moment of freedom, to be exacting and show others what a slave her husband was.
They all stood for an instant looking after the carriage, but Marcia watched David. Then, just as the carriage wound around the curve in the road and was lost from view, she saw him turn, and at once knew she must not see his face as he looked at Kate. Closing her eyes like a flash she turned and fled upstairs to get her shawl and bonnet. There she took refuge behind the great white curtains, and hid her face for several minutes, praying wildly, she hardly knew what, thankful she had been kept from the sight which yet she had longed to behold.
As David turned to go up the steps and search for Marcia he was confronted by Kate’s beautiful, smiling face, radiant as it used to be when it had first charmed him. He exulted, as he looked into it, that it did not any longer charm.
“David, you don’t seem a bit glad to see me,”blamed Kate sweetly in her pretty, childish tones, looking into his face with those blue eyes so like to liquid skies. Almost there was a hint of tears in them. He had been wont to kiss them when she looked like that. Now he felt only disgust as some of the flippant sentences in her letters to Harry Temple came to his mind.
His face was stern and unrecognizing.
“David, you are angry with me yet! You said you would forgive!”The gentle reproach minimized the crime, and enlarged the punishment. It was Kate’s way. The pretty pout on the rosy lips was the same as it used to be when she chided him for some trifling forgetfulness of her wishes.
The other guests had all gone into the house now. David made no response, but, nothing daunted, Kate spoke again.
“I have something very important to consult you about. I came here on purpose. Can you give me some time to-morrow morning?”
She wrinkled her pretty face into a thousand dimples and looked her most bewitching like a naughty child who knew she was loved in spite of anything, and coquettishly puttingher head on one side, added, in the tone she used of old to cajole him:
“You know you never could refuse me anything, David.”
David did not smile. He did not answer the look. With a voice that recognized her only as a stranger he said gravely:
“I have an important engagement to-morrow morning.”
“But you will put off the engagement.”She said it confidently.
“It is impossible!”said David decidedly.“I am starting quite early to drive over to Albany. I am under obligation to be present at the starting of the new steam railroad.”
“Oh, how nice!”said Kate, clapping her hands childishly,“I have wanted to be there, and now you will take me. Then I—we—can talk on the way. How like old times that will be!”She flashed him a smile of molten sunshine, alluring and transforming.
“That, too, is impossible, Mrs. Leavenworth. My wife accompanies me!”he answered her promptly and clearly and with a curt bow left her and went into the house.
Kate Leavenworth was angry, and for Kate to be angry, meant to visit it upon some one, the offender if possible, if not the nearest to the offender. She had failed utterly in her attempt to win back the friendship of her former lover. She had hoped to enjoy his attention to a certain extent and bathe her sad (?) heart in the wistful glances of the man she had jilted; and incidentally perhaps be invited to spend a little time in his house, by which she would contrive to have a good many of her own ways. A rich brother-in-law who adored one was not a bad thing to have, especially when his wife was one’s own little sister whom one had always dominated. She was tired of New York and at this season of the year the country was much preferable. She could thus contrive to hoard her small income, and save for the next winter, as well as secure a possible entrance finally into her father’s good graces again through the forgiveness of Davidand Marcia. But she had failed. Could it be that he cared for Marcia! That child! Scout the idea! She would discover at once.
Hurriedly she searched through the rooms downstairs and then went stealthily upstairs. Instinctively she went to the room where Marcia had hidden herself.
Marcia, with that strong upward breath of prayer had grown steady again. She was standing with her back to the door looking out of the window toward her own home when Kate entered the room. Without turning about she felt Kate’s presence and knew that it was she. The moment had come. She turned around, her face calm and sweet, with two red spots upon her cheeks, and her bonnet,—Kate’s bonnet and shawl, Kate’s fine lace shawl sent from Paris—grasped in her hands.
They faced each other, the sisters, and much was understood between them in a flash without a word spoken. Marcia suddenly saw herself standing there in Kate’s rightful place, Kate’s things in her hands, Kate’s garments upon her body, Kate’s husband held by her. It was as if Kate charged her with all these things, as she looked her through and over, from her slipper tips to the ruffle around the neck. And oh, the scorn that flamed from Kate’s eyes playing over her, and scorching her cheeks into crimson, and burning her lips dry and stiff! And yet when Kate’s eyes reached her face and charged her with the supreme offense of taking David from her, Marcia’s eyes looked bravely back, and were not burned by the fire, and she felt that her soul was not even scorched by it. Something about the thought of David like an angelic presence seemed to save her.
The silence between them was so intense that nothing else could be heard by the two. The voices below were drowned by it, the footstep on the stair was as if it were not.
At last Kate spoke, angered still more by her sister’s soft eyes which gazed steadily back and did not droop before herown flashing onslaught. Her voice was cold and cruel. There was nothing sisterly in it, nothing to remind either that the other had ever been beloved.
“Fool!”hissed Kate.“Silly fool! Did you think you could steal a husband as you stole your clothes? Did you suppose marrying David would make him yours, as putting on my clothes seemed to make them yours? Well I can tell you he will never be a husband to you. He doesn’t love you and he never can. He will always love me. He’s as much mine as if I had married him, in spite of all your attempts to take him. Oh, you needn’t put up your baby mouth and pucker it as if you were going to cry. Cry away. It won’t do any good. You can’t make a man yours, any more than you can make somebody’s clothes yours. They don’t fit you any more than he does. You look horrid in blue, and you know it, in spite of all your prinking around and pretending. I’d be ashamed to be tricked out that way and know that every dud I had was made for somebody else. As for going around and pretending you have a husband—it’s a lie. You know he’s nothing to you. You know he never told you he cared for you. I tell you he’s mine, and he always will be.”
“Kate, you’re married!”cried Marcia in shocked tones.“How can you talk like that?”
“Married! Nonsense! What difference does that make? It’s hearts that count, not marriages. Has your marriage made you a wife? Answer me that! Has it? Does David love you? Does he ever kiss you? Yet he came to see me in New York this winter, and took me in his arms and kissed me. He gave me money too. See this brooch?”—she exhibited a jeweled pin—“that was bought with his money. You see he loves me still. I could bring him to my feet with a word to-day. He would kiss me if I asked him. He is weak as water in my hands.”
Marcia’s cheeks burned with shame and anger. Almost she felt at the limit of her strength. For the first time inher life she felt like striking,—striking her own sister. Horrified over her feelings, and the rage which was tearing her soul, she looked up, and there stood David in the doorway, like some tall avenging angel!
Kate had her back that way and did not see at once, but Marcia’s eyes rested on him hungrily, pleadingly, and his answered hers. From her sudden calmness Kate saw there was some one near, and turning, looked at David. But he did not glance her way. How much or how little he had heard of Kate’s tirade, which in her passion had been keyed in a high voice, he never let them know and neither dared to ask him, lest perhaps he had not heard anything. There was a light of steel in his eyes toward everything but Marcia, and his tone had in it kindness and a recognition of mutual understanding as he said:
“If you are ready we had better go now, dear, had we not?”
Oh how gladly Marcia followed her husband down the stairs and out the door! She scarcely knew how she went through the formalities of getting away. It seemed as she looked back upon them that David had sheltered her from it all, and said everything needful for her, and all she had done was to smile an assent. He talked calmly to her all the way home; told her Mr. Brentwood’s opinion about the change in the commerce of the country the new railroad was going to make; told her though he must have known she could not listen. Perhaps both were conscious of the bedroom window over the way and a pair of blue eyes that might be watching them as they passed into the house. David took hold of her arm and helped her up the steps of their own home as if she had been some great lady. Marcia wondered if Kate saw that. In her heart she blessed David for this outward sign of their relationship. It gave her shame a little cover at least. She glanced up toward the next house as she passed in and felt sure she saw a glimmer of purple move away from the window. Then David shut the door behind them and led her gently in.