"What a relief to find ourselves safe and quiet once more!" said Elsie, as she leaned back in her chair with a sigh of content. "I did not know I was so tired."
"A visit to the McDonaldite church is apt to fatigue both body and mind," said their hostess, Mrs. Gardner. "It does not seem right, does it, for people to leave their own church to witness such doings?" she added seriously. There was a mild rebuke in her words, and Elsie remembered with a pang that it was Sunday. She had given little thought to the fact during the last few hours.
"No, I am sure it can't be right, Mrs. Gardner," said Elsie, "but we were so interested when we heard about these 'Jerkers' that we wished to see them before we went home."
"Then you do not belong on the Island. Where is your home, my dears?" she asked, as she stepped briskly about preparing the tea.
"We are from Halifax," Dexie answered.
"And is it possible that you are the daughter of Mr. Sherwood, who buys horses on the Island? Why, we know him well. He always stays here when he comes this way. Well, well; many's the time he has told us about his twin girls, but I never expected to see one of them here. Are you the beauty or the singer?" she smilingly asked.
"Now, Mrs. Gardner," said Dexie, laughing, "I am sure you can see for yourself that I am not the beauty."
"Then you are the singer; but your looks will do very well. Uncommon beauty is often a snare to its possessor, and the ability to sing God's praises is worth far more. Are you too tired to do so to-night?"
Dexie looked up with a question in her eyes, and Mrs. Gardner added,
"There is a service in our meeting-house to-night. Would you like to attend it with me?" turning to Elsie.
"Yes, indeed; I would love to go. The day will not seem all lost if we spend a short time of it properly. But do tell us, Mrs. Gardner, what makes those people take the 'jerks'? It seems such a queer kind of religion."
"My dear, I have lived in these parts for more than twelve years, and I am acquainted with several families of McDonaldites, but I never yet learned why they take the 'jerks,' or what they signify, but I know that there are many good religious people belonging to the sect."
"But they might be good people onaccountof their religion or inspiteof it," said Dexie.
Mrs. Gardner looked over at Dexie with a serious face.
"I wonder if you can repeat the first verse of the first Psalm. Try it, my dear," she said.
"I do not think I can say it word for word, Mrs. Gardner," said Dexie, presently; "but it is something like this, 'Blessed is the person who never goes where he knows he ought not to be, and who never sits down in the seat of the scornful.' Thank you, Mrs. Gardner, I see the application," she added, smiling. "I fear I have been on that seat to-day, and I have no right to be scornful when I am such a heathen myself. Yet I never attend an impressive service that I do not wish I were a good member of that particular church, no matter what denomination it happens to be. But to-day, although I have witnessed the most impressive service of my life, I never wished I was a good McDonaldite; no, not once. Now, you needn't laugh, Elsie, for you know yourself I can jump around just as lively as most people, and I am sure I could go throughsome of the most surprising movements if I tried, but I never once felt the least desire to emulate the members of that church, so I conclude that I have not been benefited by attending that wonderful gathering; yet I have always thought that any religious service that does not inspire you with a desire to join heart and soul in it, is a miserable failure. I am afraid if I had to choose between the two, I would rather be a dancing dervish than a McDonaldite. However, perhaps if I understood the doctrines of each I might choose the other way. But that brings me back to the beginning again, and makes me wonder how it is that no one seems to really know why they take the 'jerks,'" turning to Mrs. Gardner.
"Well, since none of usdoknow, let us try to forget about them for the rest of the evening," said she. "It is a comfort to know that there is a religion which the simplest can understand, and a service in which we can all unite without committing any impropriety."
A few preparations followed, and they were soon on their way to the Methodist chapel, where the reverential feeling that always filled Elsie's heart when inside a place of worship was not now wanting, as it had been while inside the church of the McDonalds, and she followed the example of Mrs. Gardner and bowed her head in silent prayer.
The service was opened by singing a hymn—one of those good old-fashioned, heartfelt songs that are dear to the hearts of all Christian people, whatever may be their Church or creed—and a feeling of strong emotion filled Dexie's heart as it rolled from the throats of the people around her, then her own clear, full notes rose above the assembled voices.
The minister lifted his eyes, and rested them a moment on the owner of the voice; but, thinking that he supposed she was just singing for effect, Dexie remained silent while the next verse was sung. A look of disappointment was reflected on the faces of those around her; but Dexie was not prepared for the pointed rebuke that was given as the minister read out the next verse.
"When the Lord gives a good voice, He expects theowner to use it for His glory; so let all sing who can sing, and do not be afraid to praise God in His own house."
Dexie felt that the words were directed to her, and wisely obeyed, fearing a more open command might be given her from the pulpit, and she detected the nod of approval that was given as she lifted her eyes to the preacher.
When the service was over, Mrs. Gardner introduced her young charges to those near her, and as the minister came down among his congregation he was presented to the strangers also.
A few pleasant words followed the introduction; then, drawing Dexie aside, he said:
"I felt sorry to have to reprove you before the whole congregation, seeing that you were a stranger here; but after showing us that youcouldsing, it was very wrong and unkind to be silent. You know, the verse says, 'Let those refuse to sing who never knew our Lord,' and I would be sorry to place you on the left hand when you are so well able to sing God's praises."
Dexie did not know whether to be amused, hurt or vexed. The words uttered were words of rebuke, but the odd manner in which they were said and the humorous twinkle in the minister's eyes did not well agree. He waited a moment for her answer, still holding her hand and looking down into her face with a serio-comic expression quite unlike a clergyman, until Dexie answered, in a low tone,
"I will remember what you said, and will always sing when I can, though I should not like to be spoken to right out in church very often."
"That's right," said Mr. Barkly. "I am glad to know that I have made an impression on one of my congregation, at least, and that your sin of omission will not be repeated. There is nothing like a personal remark to bring people to a sense of their shortcomings; so let this be a warning to you, Miss Sherwood," and he walked down the aisle at her side. "I hope, Miss Sherwood," he added, "that your stay amongst us will allow us the privilege of hearing your voice again. With a goodpreacher and a fine singer as inducements, we ought to bring out a large congregation, eh?"
Dexie looked up quickly, but the ministerial air could not hide the rich vein of humor in the man, and she smilingly replied,
"I should not like to be reproved before a larger audience than was here this evening, Mr. Barkly, and I might unintentionally do something that would bring it upon me; so I think the preacher must depend on himself, as we expect to return to Charlottetown to-morrow."
A few parting words, and the group separated, and Dexie found herself by Elsie's side, walking towards their temporary home.
As they were very tired, they decided not to await Lancy's arrival, so at an early hour they asked to be shown to their room, and its spotless purity spoke well for the housekeeper.
"However shall we get into that bed, Dexie?" said Elsie, as the footsteps of Mrs. Gardner were no longer audible.
"That is just what I was wondering myself," and Dexie stood regarding the high, old-fashioned four-poster. "Do you suppose they use a step-ladder, or jump into it from the table? Why," lifting up the counterpane and sheets, "it's just a mountain of feathers; we must spring into it from this chair." A little later her smothered laughter camp from its depths, and the laugh was repeated when Elsie sank beside her.
When they came downstairs next morning they found Lancy waiting for them, and a few minutes later Mr. Holbrook put in an appearance, making a merry little party as they sat round the cosy breakfast table.
At the earnest solicitation of Mrs. Gardner, they consented to stay a few days longer at Montague Bridge, and visit the places of interest in the vicinity.
"I will leave the horse and carriage, and return to town with a friend, and report to Mrs. Fremont," said Mr. Holbrook, "so you can drive around the country here; and when you are ready for home just follow the telegraph poles, and you'll not miss your road. You have made a good thing of it by visiting Montague Bridge."
A few days later the new friends they had made were left behind, and they were again in sight of Charlottetown.
When they arrived at Mrs. Fremont's they were received with delight, as there had been a picnic planned, and they were waiting the return of the little party from Montague, in order to announce the day.
After the pleasant bustle of preparation had resulted in hampers of delicacies, a lively procession of vehicles, filled with happy people, started for Stanhope Bay, a lovely spot on the north shore of the Island.
The high sandbanks that here border the waters of the Gulf of St. Lawrence were a source of wonder and amusement to those of the party who were strangers to the place, but woe to the one who stepped unwittingly near the edge of the bank! for the yielding sand gave no foothold, and an awkward slide down the face of the bank was always the result. But the shore below was as firm and smooth as a sanded floor, and soon every member of the party had thrown dignity aside and let themselves down through the warm dry sand to the beach, where they sought for treasures of the deep in the shape of pretty shells and other sea beauties, that were thrown up by the mighty waves that here dash on the shore in thundering tones when tempests rule the waters of the Gulf.
It was only when a sense of hunger brought to mind the full baskets awaiting them in the grove at the top of the bank, that they turned their backs on the restless waves, and essayed to climb the steep sandbanks.
But a complete knowledge of mountain-climbing was of little use here; it was each one for himself in the scramble for the top, for there could be little help given either in front or rear.
A mad rush up the bank, at an angle that offered some slight foothold, brought Dexie, hot and panting, to the top, and she turned to give a word of instruction to Elsie, who was trying to climb the steep face of the bank only to find that she slipped back almost as fast as she ascended.
"Go back to the bottom, Elsie, and make a run for that bunch of grass where I came up; you will never get up there; watch Gertrude Fremont. Now, Elsie, run for it!"
After a few minutes' hard climbing, Elsie reached the top, and the next few minutes were spent in shaking their skirts, and emptying their shoes from the accumulation of sand that filled every crevice. A smooth spot was then found to do duty as a table, and the snowy cloths were spread, when the contents of the heavy baskets revealed themselves, and all the delights of a picnic in the woods were present in abundance.
Even the long-legged spiders, who invariably invite themselves to such gatherings, and persist in walking over and around the various viands, were here represented by members of the family who seemed to be great grandfathers of their tribe, judging by their size; and the dexterity shown by some of the young gentlemen in picking up these wandering vagrants and sending them back into oblivion, called forth much praise from the female portion of the party.
After a day of delightful enjoyment, the hour arrived for them to return home, and having so much less to pack up than there was at starting, they were soon on the journey homeward.
Before the picnickers separated, there was a driving party arranged to go to Rustico Beach, Brackly Point or Cove Head, for another day's outing, and the day was set for the drive.
The next morning, when the mail was opened, Dexie received a letter from home, in which, beside the commonplace news, there were pages devoted to a startling and amusing announcement.
"Just think," Gussie wrote, "there is a man at the Gurney's who has come all the way from Australia to find Hugh, and to tell him about the fortune left him by his father. It amounts to a very large sum, and will make Hugh one of the wealthiest men in the Province, so, of course, he is now quite a different person in my eyes thanwhen he was a mere clerk. Unfortunately for me, he is not so agreeable and friendly as he used to be, and he does not come in to see me nearly so often as formerly, but I manage to meet him frequently, and treat him with so much favor that I am quite sure I will have no difficulty in securing him. I have been teasing mamma to buy me some more new dresses, for I feel quite shabby now that there is a prospect of possessing so much wealth. I am sure we will be a fine-looking couple, for Hugh looks particularly handsome lately, but rich men always look well in the eyes of a young lady. If you are asked to stay for a long visit, I would advise you to do so, as it is much more convenient for me to have you away just now."
Dexie smiled at this, but turned over the page and read on: "I shall send you word as soon as I am engaged, for then I shall want your help on my trousseau. As you are visiting among fashionable people, I wish you would keep in mind whatever dressy garments you see that would suit my style. Hugh wished to be remembered to you, and was anxious to know when you would return, but I do not see that your movements concern him."
There were more pages in the same strain, and Dexie smiled at the many things Gussie had disclosed without being aware of it. She could read between the lines, and the reason of Hugh's inquiries on her behalf were not hard to guess. But Dexie knew it would be a great disappointment to Gussie if she failed in her schemes, and she was willing enough to prolong her visit if it favored Gussie's future prospects, but she knew that Hugh's pocket-book was far dearer to Gussie than Hugh himself.
Lancy had received a letter also, and Hugh's unexpected good fortune was told at length. Hugh's father had not died during the journey to the Australian gold diggings, as had been reported, but he had changed his name, and so was lost sight of, until he had accumulated the fortune that now fell to his son. Lancy wondered if Hugh's better prospects would have any influence on Dexie; he knew well that Hugh would use his money as a stepping-stone to Dexie's favor. Perhaps Dexie surmised what was going on in his mind, for she passed him her letter with permissionto read it. After they retired from the breakfast room, they discussed the news together. Lancy felt ashamed to think he could not feel as pleased about it as he ought, and Dexie listened with heightened color as he told his fear of being set aside for Hugh.
"Lancy, you must remember I am free to do as I like with my future," she said, with flushed cheeks, "for I have not given you the least word of a promise; but let me tell you once and for all, that Hugh cannot buy my favor, and he has not been able to obtain it by coaxing, or brute force either."
"Dexie, what do you mean?" was the quick reply. "What has he said or done that you speak like this?"
"Let us go to the summer-house, Lancy, and I think I can satisfy your mind on one point, and that is, if I fail to appreciate your attentions as you think they deserve, you need not lay the blame on Hugh McNeil," and, standing under the shadow of the swinging vines, Dexie related the substance of the interview on the kitchen roof the evening before they left Halifax.
"The scoundrel! and he dared to threaten you, and was actually going to throw you from the roof! Why did you not tell me, Dexie, and I would have horsewhipped him if it had cost me my life!" And he dug his heel into the gravel, as if he had his enemy beneath it.
"Don't, Lancy; it is all over, so try to forget it. I know that Hugh felt sorry for his burst of temper the moment after, but he could not unsay the words, and I would not forgive them—that is why he felt so badly when we parted on the train. I did not intend to tell you of it, Lancy; so do not look so vexed."
"Oh! if I only could lay my hands on him, I would pay him for his impudence and brutality! but, Dexie, were you not very frightened?" and he clasped her hands in his own, and looked earnestly into her face.
"For the moment, when I turned my head and saw the stones beneath me, I was almost sick with fear, but I think my temper saved my life just then, for I turned on him and dared him! Oh! I could have torn him limb from limb, I was that angry! I broke the commandment a dozen timesas I stood there before him—I mean the one that says 'Thou shalt do no murder.' I killed him in my heart, I mean. However, I feel real pleased to hear of his good fortune, so I think I must have repented; but I'm not quite sure," she laughingly added.
"My brave Dexie! that is no easy matter to forgive!" said Lancy earnestly.
"Oh, well! I am going to forgive everything, and be as amiable as possible to my future brother-in-law. You see, Gussie has claimed him already. Now, you must keep this to yourself, Lancy, or I will never tell you anything again; but you see how foolish it is to hold up Hugh as my possible lover. Are you satisfied now?"
"No, not quite, Dexie, but if you will tell me what you refused to tell Hugh, then I will be," and he drew nearer her side.
"Then I guess you can remain unsatisfied, Sir Launcelot, for I will not confess to a feeling I am not sure of possessing."
"But you will confess that no one else holds the first place—that you love no one else? You will tell me that much, surely, Dexie?" and he tried to read the answer in her dark eyes.
"Well, yes, Lancy. I can safely concede that much without committing myself, but you need not begin to build air castles on that!"
A step sounded on the gravel walk, and Elsie's head appeared through the swinging vines at the door.
"Here I have been searching for you for half an hour! Whatever have you two been doing here, all by yourselves? Not love-making, surely; but your face looks guilty, Dexie," and she looked keenly at her brother, to see what his earnest tones might have meant.
"Well! you little Paul Pry! we were love-making and love-breaking, both. You came just in time to hear that my engagement to Lancy is—not a settled thing," and she laughed at the surprise in Elsie's eyes. "So please unsay what you told Mrs. Fremont in the parlor last evening. But what are your wishes, Miss Gurney?"
Elsie returned her bow with great formality and replied"Miss Beatrice Fremont sends her compliments, and will Mr. Gurney be kind enough to drive us to the market this morning, as Miss Gertrude is otherwise engaged."
"With pleasure, but such dignity ill becomes your youthful brow, sister mine. Did mother tell you the news about Hugh?"
"No! She said you would tell me the news your letter contained."
"Well, just think! Hugh's father has been alive for years, long enough to lay by a big fortune for Hugh. But he took a fever and died, just when he was almost ready to return to England. He managed to get a trusty man to see after his business, who has arrived in Halifax, and Hugh is rich enough to buy us all out if he wants to. Mother says he has made no plans for the future yet, but frequently asks when we are expected home, though why he is anxious about us, I can't see."
Something caused him to glance at Dexie, and the peculiar smile on her face made Lancy understand at once the reason of the frequent inquiries. Hugh did not care to make plans for the future until Dexie had returned, when her acceptance or refusal of his suit would have something to do with his future plans. But after hearing Dexie's story, Hugh's anxiety on their account did not trouble him further.
As they walked towards the house, Elsie expressed a hope "that Hugh and Gussie would soon get married, and would give them a good party to celebrate the event," and Dexie heartily seconded her wish.
But even Hugh's good fortune was set aside, for this was market day, and on no account would they miss the drive to the crowded mart. They were soon speeding along the level road, past cartloads of farm products of every kind, which were slowly making their way towards the same goal. While Beatrice was making her purchases the two girls wandered about to view the busy scene, but they soon became aware that the attention of a broad-shouldered countryman was directed to themselves. Dexie wondered where she had seen the man before, as his face looked familiar, but her memory was refreshed by the outspoken and hearty greeting that met her ears.
"Bless yer bonnie face! If this aren't Mr. Sherrud's dochter, I'm mista'en! What! dinna ye ken the auld farmer McDonald, that was seein' ye in Halifax? Oh, I thocht ye'd ken me! An' whan did ye come owre?" and her hand was grasped and given a hearty shake as she tried to answer his many questions, for the pleasure of the meeting was easily read in the open countenance before her.
"Weel, weel! but it's pleased I am to hae met ye the day, an' is yer faither as smart as ever?" and seeing him glance towards Elsie she remembered herself and introduced her friend.
"She is our next-door neighbor in Halifax," Dexie explained.
"An' ye are both owre for a visit? Weel, weel, an' ye never telt me ye were comin' at a', at a'. But whaur are ye stayin', if I may ask?"
"At Mrs. Fremont's. I am here at Miss Gurney's invitation, and her friends have been very kind to me. We have been here a little more than three weeks."
"An' ye never sent me word! If I had kent ye were here, I wad hae sent doon for ye afore."
"You are very kind, indeed, Mr. McDonald, but I am here with friends this time, and I am afraid I cannot leave them."
"Hoot, noo! ye needna leave them; there's room at the farm for ye a'. Hoo mony is there besides this ane?"
"One young man."
And catching sight of Lancy, a short distance away, she called his name and he stepped at once to her side.
"This is Mr. Gurney, a brother to my friend here."
"Ay, ay; I remember him," greeting Lancy heartily. "An' hoo dae ye like the look o' the Islan'?"
"Very much, indeed!" Lancy replied. "It is a fine place, and we have been enjoying ourselves immensely."
"But ye haena been up oor way yet! If I'd only kent ye were here I wad hae had ye up afore this," he repeated.
"Thank you kindly, Mr. McDonald, but we could hardly impose on your good-nature as far as that."
"Impose, is't? Ma dear sir, it's prood an' happy we wadbe to hae ye come to see us. You maun gie me yer promise to come afore ye gang back to Halifax. The gran'mother wad be sair hurt at no seein' ye. Whan could ye come, noo?" turning to Dexie.
Just then Beatrice Fremont came towards them, and her smile of recognition told Dexie that the farmer was well known to her.
"I did not know you were acquainted with my friends, Mr. McDonald," and she extended her hand.
"I ken her faither weel, an' I met the dochter whan I was abroad," he replied with a smile, "but I never expected to meet ony Halifax folk the day. It's her faither that did me the kindness whan I was in Halifax that I'll never forget, an' it's weel pleased I am to meet them. Is't at your place they are staying, Miss Fremont?"
"Yes," replied Beatrice, smiling, "but I think I heard you trying to coax them away from us, Mr. McDonald."
He looked up into the bright face and replied:
"Ay, I want to show them that I dinna forget their kindness to me whan I was a stranger in a strange land, an' no wishin' to rob ye o' yer visitors at a', I was tryin' to hae them say whan they wad come up to the farm, for it's masel' that'll come efter them, whanever they say the word."
"You need not be afraid to accept the invitation, girls," said Beatrice, as the farmer turned to say a few words to Lancy. "Your presence would cause no trouble; they are always so glad to have visitors that it is a pleasure to go. I spent several weeks there last summer, and I know they would all be glad to see you."
"It is well enough for Dexie to go," said Elsie, "but it would be very rude for me to go on such short acquaintance."
"There, Elsie, I stand condemned. Behold me, a visitor at Mrs. Fremont's, and we never knew of each other's existence before the visit was planned," said Dexie.
"But this is different, Dexie," Elsie hurried to explain.
"The difference is in your favor, Elsie."
"I think I can promise that they will be as glad to see you both at the farm as we were to have you here,and you know your being no relation does not matter to us."
"Well, I would dearly love to go," Dexie said. "It will be such a chance to see that part of the country, and by the way papa speaks of the McDonald homestead we would like it very much."
"Then you cannot do better than spend a few days at the seaside with him. There is a fine beach near, and chances for sea-bathing and all the rest of the delights of a seaside farm. If you like, Gertrude will go with you and stay for the first day or two."
"Is there a beach and sandhills like Stanhope Bay?" Dexie asked.
"Yes, only better, I think; and they have boats and go fishing sometimes. I am sure you would enjoy yourselves."
Lancy had been talking to Mr. McDonald during this conversation, but he now turned to them, saying:
"What do you say, girls, to accepting this kind invitation? Shall we go in a body?"
"They would all like to go, Mr. McDonald, but they are afraid they will crowd you," said Beatrice, smiling; "but I know so much better than that, that I am going to send Gertrude along with them. You will give her house-room, I know."
"Hoose-room, is't; there's plenty o' that; but hoo shune can ye a' come up?" he anxiously inquired.
"Well, not till next week, Mr. McDonald. We have planned to go for a picnic to Brackly Point, but you can tell the girls at home to look out for them next Wednesday; you need not take the trouble to come in for them, Mr. McDonald; I know how busy you are on the farm, and Gertrude knows the road. You must not let them run wild," she laughingly said, "but keep them well in order. But I must hurry home or I shall not be in time to give cook these vegetables for dinner. You must call in and see us on your way out of town, Mr. McDonald," and promising to do so he walked with them to where the carriage was waiting, and they drove home discussing the proposed visit as they went.Dexie then explained how she became acquainted with the farmer, and gave them a short account of the troubles he had experienced while visiting Nova Scotia.
"He shows to better advantage when he is at home on his own farm," said Beatrice. "He told us how he fell among thieves when he was in Halifax, and how a kind gentleman befriended him, but I did not expect I would ever know any of the family that he praised so highly when he told us the story. He supplies us with winter vegetables, and we are quite friendly, I assure you."
"How strange things do happen! I never expected to set eyes on the man again, and here we are planning to visit his home. A chain of circumstances, linked together, stretches a long way, even though the links are small and insignificant in themselves."
"Yes; it would have been a great disappointment to him had you refused his invitation. He loves to have visitors in the house. I can speak from experience, for I have been there with Gertrude. I expect Mr. McDonald did not impress you favorably when he was in Halifax, but in his own place you will not find a finer man anywhere."
"I can well believe it, but—oh! Beatrice, what is that?"
As they turned a corner they came upon a man standing in the centre of the street ringing a bell which he held in his hand, and instantly the doors and windows in the neighborhood were peopled, and pedestrians within earshot all stopped at the sound.
"Oh! who is it? What is he saying?" cried the girls.
"Listen," and she checked the horse. "It is old Hatch, the town-crier; something is lost."
The bell stopped, and in a loud voice the man read from a paper:
"Oh, yes! Oh, yes! Lost, lost! On market square, a tin box, containing papers. The finder will be rewarded by leaving it with the city marshal at the court-house. Oh, yes! Oh, yes!"
The bell rang again at the conclusion of the proclamation, and the man hurried on to the next street-crossing, where the loss was again set forth, his voice coming back in waves of sound as the carriage rolled farther away.
"The 'town-crier,'—that means a crier hired by the town, does it?" said Lancy. "I thought there was not such a thing this side the Atlantic. Why do not people advertise their losses?"
"That is the way they do it," said Beatrice, smiling, "and it pays better, particularly on market days, than to put it in all the city papers. It is the quickest way to make a loss known, or to advertise a sale, for everybody listens to old Hatch, or Mr. Hatch, I should say. It is very old-fashioned to have a town-crier, I suppose, but we should miss him very much, though I daresay the office will die with the present crier."
"I think it is an old English custom," said Lancy. "I have read of criers going through the streets to announce great events, such as battles and other public matters, but I thought they were out of date long ago."
The events of the morning were duly discussed with Mrs. Fremont when they arrived at the house, and she assured them that no thought of inconvenience need cause them to shrink from accepting Mr. McDonald's invitation. Their visit would bring pleasure to all the members of the family.
"You will not find the family rude and rough, as some country people are. The girls are bright and intelligent, though full of fun and frolic," she added. "You will be sure to enjoy yourselves, and should there come a rainy day you will find plenty to amuse you in their quaint though comfortable farmhouse."
The same comfortable carriage that carried them to Montague Bridge was now travelling in an opposite direction, and the young strangers viewed with pleasure the luxuriant fields that surrounded the many farmhouses, and which promise such abundant harvest to their owners. The drive proved a very delightful one indeed. In consequence of the many stoppings they made to regalethemselves with the sweet wild berries that grew in abundance by the roadside, the afternoon was drawing to a close when the little party reached the McDonald farmhouse.
The hardy pioneer who had first settled on the land that was owned and tilled by his descendants, must have selected the site on which he built his first log-house with an eye to the picturesque and beautiful, for no other spot for miles around had such a far reaching and delightful prospect. As time went by, and the land gave forth its increase, the log-house was supplemented by a more pretentious structure, that was "built on," the original apartments serving for kitchens, outhouses and other necessary buildings; and as this process of erection went on at later periods, the farmhouse was large and many sided, and possessed many conveniences that farmers are apt to consider unnecessary. But the honest pride that the present owner had in the well-tilled acres extended to the buildings upon it, and neatness and thrift were everywhere present. No hingeless gates propped with sticks met the eye; no broken-down doors were to be seen on his barns; a master hand ruled the land, and his rule brought prosperity and happiness.
The inmates of the farmhouse were such as you would expect to find amidst such surroundings—active and intelligent, and not wholly given up to the pursuit of the things which perish with the using, for the young people, at least, found time for intellectual pleasures that would have been considered in some farmhouses a wilful waste of time and means.
The family consisted of two young girls well up in their teens; Tom, a lively boy of twelve, and Dora, a plump little miss of six; and coming after these, in her own estimation, was the mother, a model of neatness and good-nature, a fine dairy woman, whose interests were, of course, centred in her cows and poultry yard, and she was generally found somewhere near the vicinity of her particular treasures.
Then there was Phebe, the strong-armed. A very important member of the family was she, as you would soonlearn if you made any stay in the farmhouse. She it was who solved problems by the aid of washboard and scrubbing-brush, and the tempting meals she sent out of the kitchen would have delighted the heart of an epicure. But to see Phebe at her best, one should be at the farm during the busy haying season. It was her pride and delight to be considered "as good as any man," and she could "pitch a load" with a dexterity that even the two farm hands could not equal. These latter were brothers, and lived in a snug cottage a few rods away, said cottage being kept, like everything else on the farm, as "neat as a new pin," by Joe's wife, a brisk little woman, whose head scarcely reached to her husband's shoulder.
Another inmate of the farmhouse should have a paragraph all to herself, for "the grandmother" cannot be described in one brief line. Although she had long since passed the allotted span of life, yet age had not dimmed the lustre of her keen grey eyes nor dulled her faculties; and though she could no longer take an active part in the management of the household, yet from her corner in the pleasant room a potent spell reached out and overshadowed the members of the household. No crowned monarch on his throne ever ruled over such deferential and loyal subjects as those that here yielded to her benign sway. Not that she required it of them—it was graciously accorded her as to the patriarchs of old, and she seemed to belong to a holier age. Her soft white hair fell over her brow, and was drawn back under a large white frilled cap that surrounded her head like a halo, and the placid countenance that beamed beneath it inspired a feeling of reverence. She was called by all the household "the grandmother," and was dearly loved by them all; but the filial love of her son was far above that usually accorded to aged mothers, and it was easy to see how it warmed her heart.
Such was the household into which our young travellers were ushered about five o'clock on a beautiful summer day.
Mr. McDonald had been watching for their appearance for some hours, and his hearty greetings were repeated bythe rest of the family. The farmer's daughters, Maggie and Lizzie, received Gertrude with the cordiality of an old friend, and though at first they seemed a little shy with the strangers from "abroad" this soon wore away, and they found their visitors quite as amiable as if they had been born on the same soil as themselves.
As soon as they had been refreshed, outwardly and inwardly, they were taken into the room where "the grandmother" sat in her large, comfortable chair, and were introduced to her with much solemnity; but they only waited for the few words of welcome to each, and then passed into the pleasant sitting-room adjoining.
"You must go in to-morrow and see the grandmother, one at a time," said Lizzie, as she drew a chair near the rest. "She does not see many strangers, and more than one confuses her. It seemed necessary to introduce you in a body, but she will be better pleased to become acquainted with you separately."
"I have something for her," said Gertrude. "She seems to remember me as well as if I were here only last week."
"I have something for her, too," said Dexie, smiling, "but it is only a soft foot-rest, and I see she has one now."
"That is kind of you to think of her," said Maggie. "Let me know when you are going to give it to her, and I will slip in beforehand and pull away her old one. She will be so delighted to think that you remembered her."
But the beautiful prospect from the windows claimed a closer inspection, and they went for their hats and started for the beach.
Lancy followed Mr. McDonald to inspect the premises with the happy owner, promising to join the rest later on. The girls walked along the path that led across a waving field of grain, and then stood for a few minutes looking off at the white-topped waves that extended as far as the eye could reach. The high sandbanks here raised their barriers against the waters of the Gulf, and shrill screams of laughter, such as only come from girlish throats, accompanied their descent through the dry, yielding sand to the beach below.The little white-washed building that served the double purpose of bathing and boat-house was duly inspected; and when Dexie admitted her ability to handle an oar, it raised her very much in the estimation of the bright country lasses, as they were under the impression that her soft hands were not put to much energetic labor, but one who had sufficient muscle to handle an oar could surely do other things as well. While they were on the beach Lancy joined them, and after he had inspected the boat-house, under Dexie's enthusiastic guidance, they agreed that on the morrow they would sail across to the distant point, and view the prospect from that quarter.
"We will take a lunch and have a private picnic," said Lizzie. "I hope the day will be fine. You have no idea how rough it is here when the wind is high; the breakers come rolling in so high and grand that it is quite fascinating to watch them, but dangerous in the extreme to be on the shore. Vessels have to keep out to sea when there is a storm, for this is considered a dangerous coast, but there have not been any wrecks along here for some years."
They returned by a different route, entering the house by a side-door, and the visitors were surprised to see the display of flowers that bloomed in the outer porch, making it, indeed, a bower of beauty.
"Why! you have made quite an addition to the house since I was here last," said Gertrude, as she stood to admire the blossoms.
"No, not an addition, only a little alteration," said Maggie. "Don't you remember this old porch where father used to smoke his pipe of an evening? Well, in the spring, when Joe was making the glass frames to force the early vegetables for market, we got him to put a glass frame on each side of the porch. They are not very neatly done, I admit, but they answer the purpose very well. Then these few shelves were easily fitted up, and this is the result," she added.
"I missed your flowers, from the window seats, and wondered if you had found them too much trouble," said Gertrude, fingering some sweet-smelling leaves near her."Well, you see, there were so many of them that it was quite a task to look after them when they were spread over the house. In the winter we don't mind the trouble so much, as there is so little left of 'green things growing' to rest the eyes upon that we find them quite a pleasure. In the bright days of spring there is so much to see and do out-of doors that we thought we would collect them here. Of course, we still keep the grandmother's window full of blossoms, for she loves them so dearly."
"It is a pity that the porch is not on the south side of the house," said Dexie. "I should think it would be quite chilly here when the wind blows."
"So it is," said Lizzie, with a smile, "and I suppose you think we might have chosen a better situation for our little conservatory when this many-sided house has better spots to select from, but it was not the flowers alone we were thinking of."
"Well, what else were you thinking of, if I may ask?" said Gertrude.
Lizzie blushed slightly as she replied:
"This is the door that mother uses to go in and out when about her dairy work—that is the dairy under the trees at the end of the path—and father likes to sit here and watch her about her work of an evening while he smokes his pipe; and when she has done her work she will often sit here and rest a few minutes with him; but there is not much of a prospect from this door, except the waters of the Gulf, so we thought we would put our flowers here and she could see and smell them when she went in and out. She might be too busy to stop and notice them particularly, but they are something pleasant to rest her eyes on when she is through with the milk. I always thought that the restless waves made her think of my brother who was lost at sea, but now I fancy that the flowers rest her, though perhaps it is only fancy, after all."
Dexie's thoughts flew back to her own mother lying listlessly on her sofa so much of the time. How much had she ever done to change the current of her mother's thought? She made a mental memorandum to try the effectof a few bright blooms in her mother's window as soon as she returned home.
As they talked, Maggie had taken up her father's pipe that had lain on a shelf near, and emptying its contents she took from a pouch hanging on the wall a piece of tobacco and a jack-knife, and, with a practised hand, she refilled the pipe afresh, then laid it gently on a little shelf within easy reach of the cosy seat that her father occupied during the warm summer evenings. It was done so quietly that it was almost unnoticed, but Dexie saw it and understood the kindly act. She wondered if she loved her own father enough to perform such an act for him. She felt glad that her father did not use tobacco, for she would not care to be outdone by these Prince Edward Island girls; yet in her case she felt that even lovingkindness had its limit, and that she would have to draw the linethisside of the tobacco pipe.
Maggie felt, rather than saw, that Dexie was watching her, and as she laid the pipe in readiness for her father's evening smoke she looked up and said with a smile:
"You never saw a girl do that before, confess now? Well, I don't care for it, but father likes to find his pipe all ready for him, so I try to overcome my dislike, and his tobacco-smoke helps to keep my flowers free from vermin, you know."
As twilight deepened into evening the members of the family all assembled in the grandmother's room, and a home-like feeling came over Elsie as she saw Mr. McDonald open the big Bible that rested on a small table near the grandmother's chair, and read, in his rich Scotch accents, the evening psalms. Then they quietly knelt, all except the grandmother, who, rising slowly to her feet and leaning on her staff, offered up the evening prayer. It made Dexie think of the patriarchs of old, who blessed their families "leaning on their staffs for very age." Then the family said good-night to the grandmother, and the polished candlesticks that decorated the mantle shelf were taken down by the farmer's wife and a lighted candle set in each; these were then handed to the different members of the family, who passed out of the room in single file,very much after the manner of a diminutive torch-light procession.
The family were supposed to retire to their own rooms at once, as "early to bed" was the rule of the farmhouse, but the laughing group of girls all assembled in one room for a friendly chat before retiring.
As Lancy sat by his open window enjoying the quiet scene without, the sound of their voices reached his ears. He would have preferred a walk, or a shorttete-a-tetewith Dexie, instead of this early-to-bed arrangement, but he respected the rule of the house and blew out his candle at an early hour. He was rewarded for his good behavior by a long refreshing sleep, and Dexie appearing to him in his dreams was more gracious than ever she had been during his waking hours.
But, as everyone knows, when young ladies get talking together of an evening, sleep "comes slowly up that way," and the shortness of their candles alone warned them that it was time they sought the pillow. But the short candles were unheeded, for Gertrude was relating reminiscences of a former visit, and the fun and frolic that prevailed at the farm during their stay. At last, when one of the candles flared up, then subsided in smoke, the girls rose to leave the room, but Gertrude turned at the door, saying:
"Take good care, girls, and sleep well over to the back of the bed, or you may repeat the performance that took place the first night that Beatrice and I slept in the house."
"Oh, do tell them about it, Gertrude," said Maggie, laughing. "Our candles will hold out that long, I think."
Gertrude seated herself on the foot of the bed, while the rest waited for the story.
"Well, we slept that night in the room that Lancy occupies, at the head of the stairs, and, do you know, I never enter it but I feel cold shivers running up my back as I think of that night. You see, Mrs. McDonald's feather-beds are wonderful for size; they are her pride and joy; but we were not used to them, so, during the night, we rolled over too near the front of the bed, when suddenly out we both went, and the feather-bed fell out on top of us! I thought there had been an earthquake, and so laid quietfor the next shock. By and by Beatrice crawled out from under the ruins and tried to lift the feather-bed back on the mattress, but instead of doing so she fell back on the floor with it in her arms. Over went the table, and this upset the whole contents of the water-pitcher over my back. Good gracious! how it scared me! It was pitch dark and I could not tell what had happened, so I screamed—screamed as if I was being murdered. Imagine our feelings when the door opened, and in walked Mr. and Mrs. McDonald, carrying a candle and a poker. Oh! I thought I should die with shame. They thought that robbers had broken into the house and were carrying us off, so they ran with the poker to our rescue. It took them some time to comprehend the true state of affairs, then Mr. McDonald disappeared in a twinkling. The girls here came running up to see what was the matter, and they soon tossed the bed and bed-clothes out of the way, and got some dry garments for poor shivering me. Beatrice escaped with a lump on her head as big as an egg. I had no outward bruises to speak of, but I felt bad enough without any; but the water-pitcher had the handle broken off, and the bed-clothes and feather-bed had to be dried out-of-doors for days after. Oh, dear! I did feel so ashamed; such a scrape I never got into before or since. So take my story to heart, and do not lose your senses if you do fall out of bed," and Gertrude laughed as she took up her candle and followed the rest from the room, leaving Dexie and Elsie to the mercy or comfort of their big feather-bed.
There was a full breakfast table the next morning, for the young visitors determined to fall into the ways of the family as much as possible, so decided to be "early birds" along with the rest.
During the meal, Mr. McDonald suggested the various ways they might pass the day enjoyably; but when he hadexhausted the resources of pleasure that occurred to his mind, Dexie smilingly said,
"You are very kind, Mr. McDonald, to place so many pleasures within our reach, but it would not be right to spend the whole day in that way."
"What way would you prefer to pass the day?" said Lizzie, with a smile.
"Well, first, I should like to help wash the dishes, then I should like to be set to work at anything else that I can do in a passable manner."
"Dear me! is that what you call enjoying yourself, Miss Dexie?" said Maggie. "I fancy you would not like dish-washing, if you had to do it all the time."
"Well, perhaps a full day's task of dish-washing would be rather tedious," said Dexie, laughing; "but I was only bidding for the breakfast dishes, you know."
"But there is no need to trouble yourselves about anything," said Mrs. McDonald. "Enjoy yourselves all you can while you are here; Phebe can manage the work nicely. Put on your hats, and have a walk through the fields; it will give you a fine appetite for your dinner."
"But I have a remarkable appetite already, Mrs. McDonald; I shall be alarmed if it increases much more," was the smiling reply, "and you know the Bible says, 'If one will not work, neither should he eat,' or words to that effect, so you must have pity on me, and not keep me idle. Lancy, your appetite is wonderful too, for that is your second cup of coffee; you had better hunt up some work also," she laughingly added.
"I will give him some now," said Lizzie. "Before the tide comes in he can go down to the boat-house and get out the boat. We want to be off by ten o'clock; the tide will be about right then, and since you are so anxious for work, Miss Dexie, you may help Maggie pack the baskets. I hope, Gertrude, you won't ask for something to do, for I want you to take Miss Gurney around, and show her the poultry yard. Mother will be too busy to protect her from our feathered enemies."
"Enemies! are they very savage?" Elsie asked in alarm.
"No; the trouble is in the opposite direction," said Maggie. "The creatures are that tame they are quite a nuisance; you can scarcely step for them. The greedy things look for something to eat from everybody who ventures inside the yard, and will fly on your shoulders for the first chance at the pan. Gertrude knows how to protect herself, so you can put yourself under her care with safety."
How pleasant it is when one goes visiting to feel as if you are one of the family; but the expression "Making yourself at home" is more often made than really experienced. While at the farmhouse our young people did truly realize the feeling.
It would take too long to tell of the many excursions by water, and drives by land, that were enjoyed daily, but the vicinity for miles around was thoroughly explored. Every night Gertrude would say she ought to return home, but the next day would seem so full of pleasure that it seemed a pity to miss it.
One evening, when they were seated and idly swinging among the boughs of a low-limbed tree that stood near the house—a favorite spot with the girls—Dexie suddenly remarked,
"Lancy, I am just hungry for a 'sing;' do start up something."
"Bless you for the thought," Lancy replied, from a distant limb. "I have been wondering these few days back what it was I was missing. Take the first choice yourself, and start away."
But they found it was easier to start the singing than it was to end it, for they soon had all the household within hearing distance, and "just one more" was asked for from so many different quarters that their song-hunger was fully satisfied before they were allowed to stop.
They seemed to sing like the birds, from "lightness of heart, and very joy of living." After a few moments' silence, a bird-song was whistled by the "mates in the tree," eliciting strong words of praise, as well as surprise, from the delighted listeners.
"Oh, that's nothing to what we have to endure at home," said Elsie. "Those two are always hooting away like a pair of owls. It is a wonder their throats are not split before this. I almost hope that the piano at home will be mouldy when we get back."
"We will soon knock the mould out of it, hey, Dexie?" Lancy laughingly replied, as he lifted his mate down from her perch.
"Oh, how I should love to have a piano, and be able to play on it," said Maggie, with a long-drawn sigh. "Perhaps we will have one sometime."
"Why, Maggie, how can you say such a thing? A deep sorrow comes before that joy; and how can you wish for it?" was the stern reproof of her sister.
"Oh, dear! what have I said! I forgot that for the moment!" and there was such a tone of regret in her words that Dexie's eyes asked an explanation.
"We can't have a piano while the grandmother is alive. She thinks that all music, except the bagpipes, perhaps, is positively wicked; so we try not to think about it. We spoke about it to father once, and he felt so badly that he could not please us and the grandmother too. Of course she comes first; but he has put the money in the bank to buy an instrument—sometime. I hate to think about it, though I long for it more than I can tell. It makes me feel as if I was such a wicked creature; for just think of wishing for a thing that can only be had over the grandmother's coffin! Oh, dear! I wish I had never heard the sound of music!" and to the surprise and dismay of the little group she burst into tears.
"Oh, do forgive me! I am to blame for this, I fear," said Dexie, her face showing her distress. "I did not know—"
"Don't think of such a thing, Miss Dexie," said Lizzie, putting her arm around her. "It was not your fault; Maggie has her cry over this same thing every few weeks, and feels the better for it, too, I believe. We have many pleasures that few girls on a farm ever think of, and we ought to be content. But I really do believe that if the grandmother could walk around the house, and shouldcome across the books and other things that we girls have brought into it since she was confined to her room, she would die with the shock. She thinks that everything remains about the same as it was in her day, and we are careful not to disturb her opinion; for in this case a little deceit seems wise, or, at least, necessary."
In a few minutes the sunshine again appeared on Maggie's face; but the feeling that was brought out by the sudden tears seemed to draw Dexie nearer to this young girl who had such a love of music, yet could not give it expression until the shadow of death had first walked before her.
The next morning brought a letter from home, and by its tone Lancy felt he must be needed; so it was decided they should return to Charlottetown, finish their visit at Mrs. Fremont's, and then return home.
When Mr. McDonald learned that the young people were preparing to leave for the city, he called Dexie to his side, and turning to a small cupboard brought out a tin box, saying:
"Someane left this box in ma kairt that day I saw ye in the toon. I jaloose the owner was buyin' somethin' an' laid it there an' forgot aboot it, but I never saw it till I got hame. I opened it to see if I could fin' the name o' the owner, an' I found some papers wi' yer faither's name on them. Can ye mak' oot whit it means, ma lassie? Somethin' is no richt, I tak' it."
Dexie sat down beside him and read several of the letters and papers, and their contents filled her with surprise. She was well acquainted with her father's business, as she wrote many of his letters, and she saw at once that something was indeed wrong.
"How strange that I should come across this!" she said. "This letter is written by a man named Plaisted; he does business with papa. He has been on the Island with him, and knows the people that have had dealings with papa, before he joined him. What are you going to do with the box, Mr. McDonald?"
"I was gaun to ask Mr. Gurney to return it to the lawyer whase name is on the inside o' the cover. He'sconsidered an honest man, though he is a lawyer. Maybe if ye wad tell him aboot this man Plaisted, it micht keep him frae daein' yer faither ony mischief. It wad dae nae harm, ony way."
"May I copy this letter written by Plaisted? I would like to show papa what kind of a man this Plaisted is, for I think he trusts him too much."
"Weel, it canna be ony harm, shurely, jist tocopythe letter, but ye needna mention the maitter to onyane; there's nae kennin' whit they wad mak' o't."
Dexie soon had a copy of the letter and a general knowledge of a few others in Plaisted's peculiar handwriting, and this proved of much value in establishing certain facts that came up at a future time, the copied letter proving the missing link in a chain of evidence that brought Plaisted's misdoings to judgment.
Lancy was consulted about the box, and promised to see it safe into the hands of the owner. Soon after they learned that this was the very box that they had heard the town-crier proclaim aslostwhen driving home from the market-house.
With many regrets at leave-taking, both on the part of visitors and entertainers, the little party drove away, unconscious of the fact that under the seat of the carriage there were several substantial tokens of regard, which were, however, discovered, when they arrived at Mrs. Fremont's.
Mrs. Fremont congratulated them all on the benefit they had undoubtedly received from their visit, particularly Elsie, who seemed to be a new creature. Her pale cheeks had been painted by the sun a warm brown, and the pure sea-air had created an appetite that told its story in rounded limbs and wide-awake appearance that contrasted greatly with the languid movements she had brought with her from Halifax.
Lancy sent word to his parents that they would return the following week, and promised to telegraph the day of starting.
This was glad news to Hugh, who was present when the letter was read, and heard its contents discussed.
Ever since Hugh had come into possession of his fortunehe had looked forward to the return of the party with much impatience. There were times when he felt almost tempted to seek Dexie's presence, and try again to win a word that would give him some hope. All his future plans seemed to depend on the way Dexie treated him, and he waited her coming, uplifted sometimes by hope, but more often depressed by fear, and with a restlessness that made him almost irritable at times. He insisted on filling his usual place in the store, glad enough to keep his mind occupied and his thoughts away from himself.
At last one morning the telegraph messenger knocked at the door, and brought the welcome message.
A broad smile passed over Mr. Gurney's face as he read the telegram, and he handed it to his wife, saying:
"Dexie sent that telegram or wrote it, or I'm very much mistaken."
Whereupon Hugh was very anxious to read it, and to his great delight Mrs. Gurney passed it over to him, and this is what he read:
"Kill the prodigal; the fatted calves are on the way."
For the first time in many weeks, Hugh burst into a hearty laugh, and he read the words over until he could almost fancy he heard Dexie's laughing voice beside him.
"Well, that message may have seemed incomprehensible to the transmitter of it, but it tells us a long story," said Mrs. Gurney, a smile lighting up her face. "It says they are well and in good spirits, that they are glad to be coming home again, but will be very hungry when they get here, so I had better bestir myself and 'kill the prodigal,'" and she rose to visit the kitchen.
"Well, she has told the story within the limit of ten words, too," said Hugh, making some excuse for keeping the bit of paper so long before him.
"What prodigal are you going to kill, mamma?" said Gracie, following her mother into the kitchen.
"Oh! that is what we will call the big fat chicken that eats so much oats, and picks the little ones on the back when they try to get a mouthful. He will do for a prodigal, so we will have him cooked for Elsie's supper."
Gracie sat down on a low stool, her face wearing apuzzled expression, and she began to repeat to herself the parable of the prodigal son. Suddenly a bright look came over her face, for she had solved the troublesome riddle, and she joyfully exclaimed:
"Oh, mamma! Dexie didn't learn it right; they didn't kill the prodigal, it was the fatted calf that was cooked! Oh, dear! how funny to make such a mistake, and she such a big girl! Say, Hugh," as he passed through the room, "Dexie is the prodigal, and not the fatted calf, isn't she?"
And with more earnestness than the subject demanded he replied: "I hope so."
It was Mr. Gurney who drove to the depot in the evening to meet the travellers, much to the disappointment of Hugh, who hoped to be the first to receive Dexie's greetings; but the excitement of their arrival had somewhat subsided by the time he made his appearance in the house.
It is needless to say there was great rejoicing in the Gurney household that evening. Elsie was petted and caressed to her heart's content, and she listened with a smiling face to the oft-repeated remark that she "looked so much better."
Hugh's unexpected good fortune came in for a share of the discussion which took place round the tea-table, and the well-cookedprodigalwas the butt of many jokes. Dexie was asked to come in and get her share of the "fatted calf," as Gracie persisted in calling it, but she begged to be excused, feeling that she would prefer to spend her first evening at home.
Gussie lost no time in telling Dexie all her hopes and plans, and she gave the impression that everything was settled. She could talk of nothing but the splendid time she expected to have in the future.
"Hugh does not say much to me, but I know I can do just as I like with him after we are married, so I don't mind if he is rather cool and short occasionally. Of course he means to marry me, or why did he talk so long to papa about it?" said Gussie, as she followed Dexie downstairs.
"Did papa tell you about it?" a suspicion of the true state of affairs entering her mind for a moment.
"No—but—well, to tell the truth, I was listening at the door, but I heard enough to let me know the nature of the interview, for I heard papa say quite distinctly, 'I don't think she cares enough for you, and she must marry to suit herself,' so what else could he have meant? Now, I do not care so very much about Hugh, I must confess—or I did not, I mean, when he was merely Mr. Gurney's clerk, but with a fortune in his pocket who could refuse such a fine-looking man?"
"Well, I could, for one," said Dexie, trying to hide a laugh. "He would need something more than riches to be attractive to me, for all his fine looks; but I congratulate you, Gussie. I hope you will be happy."
"Of course I will be happy, so long as the money holds out, anyway," said she, with a laugh that grated harshly on her sister's ears. "Did you see any brides when you were away, Dexie, and how were they dressed?"
"I wasn't searching for brides, Gussie. I confined my attention to pollywogs, crabs, and things of that ilk."
Gussie's remarks jarred on her feelings, in spite of her efforts to seem careless, but she smiled, as Gussie scornfully replied:
"Well, did I ever! I guess if you searched for a sunburnt face and a blistered nose, you foundthemfast enough."
"Yes, unfortunately, one can find those sort of things without searching for them; they are thrown in with the pollywogs for good measure; but my nose is not half so ornamental as Lancy's. Don't be cross, Gussie. Let us go into the parlor and wait for the trunks. I have a lot of nice new patterns in fancywork for you."
They entered the parlor together, where Aunt Jennie followed them, and they talked about the many events that had transpired during Dexie's absence. The room was almost dark. It seemed pleasanter to talk in the twilight, but a bar of light shone from the sitting-room door, and relieved it from any sombre appearance. Dexie kept wondering why the expressman did not appear; she was anxious to see if the little treasures she had collected for distribution had borne the journey safely. She rose atlast and went to the window to see if there was anyone in sight, but she was disappointed. Not so Hugh, who was just entering the house, and caught sight of her outline against the window-pane, and, thinking the unlighted parlor vacant but for Dexie's presence, he softly opened the door and stepped to her side. All her cold repulses were forgotten, her curt words of dismissal faded from his memory, his heart was yearning for her presence, she was there before him, and in a moment he had her in his arms.
"My darling! my love! do I see you at last. How I have longed for this moment!"
It was so sudden that for a moment Dexie was powerless to move, but she freed herself quickly, saying, as she stepped back:
"How dare you! Howdareyou touch me! It is I; not Gussie," she added, thinking he might have mistaken the person, though his words belied the thought. "I was watching for the expressman, and did not notice you had come in; you made a mistake," came the quick-spoken words.
"Well, I should say it was a mistake, and an odd one too," said Gussie, coming forward. "How could you mistake that mop of a head for mine, Hugh?"
She had seen the embrace, but the whispered words had not reached her. Naturally, Hugh was much taken back when he realized that Dexie was not alone, but he anathematized Gussie in his heart, and bit his lips to keep back the words that sprang up in reply. If Gussie had known how precious that "mop of a head" was to her quondam lover, she would not have been so ready to "give herself away," as the trite saying has it.