"Ah! Dexie, that proves that you do not know what true love really is! When your heart awakens, as it surely will sometime, you will know how cruel you have been to me. Well, you have told me to go, and I suppose I must;but it is hard—hard to leave you so! Do we part friends?" and he held out his hand as he rose to his feet again.
"Yes, I think so," and she gave him her hand, "but I hope you will not come here any more; it is unpleasant for both of us."
"And this is to be our good-bye! It is hard to give you up, my darling!" and he held her hand as if he would never let it go. "I wonder if I shall ever see you again!"
"Mr. McNeil, I have not troubled you with many favors, so I think you might grant me one. Please do not leave the Gurneys just now; on my account, I mean. We are going away from Halifax so soon ourselves, and I know it will be a disappointment to them if you leave just now. I am sure they do not wish you to go away until you are stronger. They have all been so kind to me, I wish you would not make any change until we are gone."
"That is a great temptation, Dexie, coming from you; but a few weeks of your presence, even though I may not see you, will be heaven itself, compared to the life I must spend without you. I may, perhaps, see you again."
"No! Not alone, at least! Let this be good-bye, Mr. McNeil," and she tried to draw away her hands.
But he drew her close to him, and giving one long, earnest look into her eyes, he lifted her hands to his lips and pressed a burning kiss upon them; then the curtain dropped behind him.
Dexie stood where Hugh had left her for some minutes, listening to his retreating footsteps as he disappeared up the attic stairs, then sank down in the chair Hugh had occupied, and buried her face in her hands. There was a tumult in her heart that required some deep thinking before she would feel like herself again. Thoughts had arisen that had disquieted her. Hugh had told her that her heart had not yet awakened; was it so? Why, then, was she wearing Lancy's ring? She blushed as she pulled it hastily off, hiding it on her chain like a guilty thing.
The story she had been reading, and which she had thought so overdrawn, came into her mind; it had pleased her because she had thought it so delightfully unreal. Buthad there not been passages in her own life quite as romantic in their nature as that which seemed so interesting when read out of a story-book.
Her heart had not yet awakened! How those words seemed to repeat themselves over and over as she sat.
Had she awakened Hugh's heart only to disappoint him? Well, she had not intended nor wished to do it; but he was very much in earnest, and she was sorry. She sighed as she rose from her chair and picked up the book that still lay on the floor, but she had lost all interest in the story; so she threw it carelessly on the table and went downstairs to await the coming of the rest, her thoughts still busy over the problems that Hugh's unexpected visit had aroused.
Dexie found that the party had not improved Gussie's temper, for she came home with many complaints as to how she had been neglected.
"I wish you had gone," she said spitefully to Dexie. "I was sick and tired of hearing people ask where you were, and why you had not come, and there was not a soul there that I cared to talk to, even Mr. McNeil disappeared, no one knows where."
Dexie colored slightly as her father regarded her curiously; no further mention was made of the matter at the time. Mr. Sherwood, however, was not surprised when, a short time after, someone came behind him, and, with arms around his neck, confessed in his ear that "Mr. McNeil had been in to see her, but had come in through the attic, because he was not allowed in by the door, and that they had quarrelled a little, but parted friends," and ended by asking him "not to tell mamma, for fear Gussie might get hold of it."
"Poor little girl, she has quite a time of it among them," her father said as she left him; "yet I think I can safely leave it all with herself."
"Only one week more and we must say good-bye to dear old Halifax," said Dexie one morning, as she hurriedly made her toilet.
"Well, I am glad of it, for it is cold enough here this morning to freeze a bear," replied Gussie from among the blankets.
"Oh! Gussie, the ground is covered with snow, and it is still snowing," said Dexie, joyfully, as she raised the window curtain. "Oh, I do hope it will last until we can have one more sleigh drive," and she ran downstairs singing like a lark.
All day the snow kept falling in large heavy flakes, but towards evening the weather turned clear and frosty. Then the merry jingle of sleigh-bells could be heard on every side, for everyone who could was taking advantage of this, the first sleighing of the season.
Lancy had no trouble in getting Dexie to promise him her company for a sleigh drive, but he was planning for a private little drive in a single sleigh, with only room for two; while Dexie, not quite so sentimentally inclined, was hoping to make it a jolly sleighing party, in which a number should participate. She had watched Lancy as he drove away to the store in the large open sleigh which was termed "the delivery team," and a few whispered words to Elsie were hint enough.
A short time before Lancy could be expected home, Dexie and Elsie, well wrapped in furs, were making their way towards Mr. Gurney's store on Granville Street; but meeting Maud Harrington and Fanny Beverly, they stopped a moment to speak to them.
"Which way are you going, girls?" Dexie asked, her eyes sparkling with mischief.
"We are on our way home, just now," said Fanny, "but it is a wonder that you girls are not taking advantage of the sleighing, when it will last only a day or two at the most."
"Oh! we expect to have a drive later on," said Elsie."Be on the lookout for us, and if you are not over-fastidious as to the style of the turnout, there will be a chance for you to have a drive as well."
"Oh! I'll not refuse a sleigh-drive; I would accept a seat on a bob-sled rather than miss the first sleighing," said Fanny, with a laugh.
Lancy was surprised when Dexie and his sister made their appearance in the store; but as Dexie carried some parcels with her, he supposed she had been out to do some shopping.
"I am almost ready to go home, girls, so sit down and wait for me," he said, as he brought forward some seats, "and if you will accept a drive in the delivery, it will save you the walk home."
Of course they would wait and drive back with him; so Lancy went out and placed some temporary seats in the big sleigh, making them soft and comfortable by the aid of rugs and robes.
"Are you coming back with us, Hugh?" as Hugh made his appearance from the booking-room.
"Well—yes—if I may," and he looked over to the window where Dexie was standing, as if to ask her permission.
"Well, there is plenty of room, Mr. McNeil," she said, with a smile, "so you won't crowd us."
Lancy helped Dexie into the seat beside himself, so Hugh and Elsie took the seat behind.
"Really, this is very comfortable, Lancy," said Dexie, as they flew along the street. "I don't see what better accommodation one could ask than this. Don't drive straight home; let us have our drive without changing the sleigh," she added, in a low voice.
"No, I want you alone; there is too much room here to please me," he replied, with a smile.
"Oh! stop a minute, Lancy," cried Elsie, a moment later. "There is Maud Harrington and Fanny Beverly; I want to speak to them. Do ask them to come for a drive."
"Elsie, are you crazy?—in this sleigh? Good evening, ladies" (this to the laughing girls on the sidewalk). "I am delivering some lively freight, you see. Don't you admire my turnout?"
"Yes; it is superb. May we get on board?"
"Well, if you would care to—I don't mind," was the hesitating reply; "but I have nothing but boards for seats, you know."
"Oh! no matter. The first sleigh-drive of the season is always the most enjoyable, no matter what sort of a sleigh carries you along."
Lancy soon had them seated as comfortably as circumstances would permit, and they drove off with many expressions of delight.
"Turn up Spring Garden Road, Lancy," said Hugh, entering into the spirit of the fun; "perhaps we will meet another friend or two who would enjoy a spin."
Presently they came up with Fred Beverly and May Deblois, as they were stepping briskly along the sidewalk, who started in surprise as the sleigh drove up and they recognized the occupants.
"Will you have a drive?" was Lancy's greeting.
"Most willingly," replied Fred, laughing. "Really, this is kind of you, Gurney, to give your friends a drive on the first snow."
"Oh! you need not givemeany credit, for you had better believe I never intended to form a sleighing party when I started out withthisteam."
"Unexpected blessings thankfully received," said Fred, laughing. "The going is fine, but it won't last long, unfortunately."
On they went, their merry laughter chiming with the jingling of the sleigh bells, and more than one person turned to look after them with a feeling of envy.
"Oh! that was Mrs. Gordon we just passed at the corner," said Elsie, in a whisper. "How horrified she would be if she knew who we were!"
"Do let us call for Nina," said Dexie; "there is room for one more, and I'm sure she would enjoy it."
"But she would not consider it 'the correct thing,'" said Fred, with a laugh, "so you would have your trouble for nothing."
"Oh, I am sure she wouldloveto come! do let me run in and ask her!" she urged, as they neared the house."Ten to one she will not come until her mamma comes home to tell her if it is 'the correct thing' or not," said Fred, teasingly.
"Yes, that will be just it; she will not know what to wear for this special occasion, and it is a pity to lose a moment of this beautiful evening," said Fanny.
"I'll run the risk, and stand responsible for 'the correct thing' this time," said Dexie; "so do let me out, Lancy. Give me three minutes, and I will return with or without her."
Dexie had noticed Nina's wistful face in the window as they drove up, so she ran into the house without ceremony.
"Come, Nina, can you get ready to go for a drive in three minutes? Say, quick!"
"Oh, I wouldloveto go, but mamma is out, and I could not get ready so soon without her. Oh, I am so sorry!" and she looked her disappointment.
"Come along; I'll dress you in a jiffy," and she pulled her out into the hall, and from among the clothing which hung in the cloak closet she soon had her muffled to the ears, in spite of Nina's repeated protests thatnoneof those articles of clothing belonged to herself, but to her uncle.
"Oh, I am so afraid; indeed, I feelsuremamma would say that it is not the correct thing to go like this."
"Oh, no matter; hurry, or they won't wait for us. It won't hurt to be dressed in this rig for a short time," and Dexie hurriedly buttoned the big coat around her, and pulled a fur cap down over her ears, completely concealing her identity.
"My muff and furs are upstairs somewhere. Mamma put them away."
"This will keep your neck warm," and Dexie snatched a fancy woollen afagan from the back of a chair, and wrapped it around Nina's neck. "Put your hands up your sleeves, and you will never miss your muff," and she hurried herdoubleout on the sidewalk.
"Time is just up," said Fred, "but you have done it complete. Let me help you in, Miss Gordon," and Nina was soon tucked in among the rest.
"Now, drive on as fast as you like; we must not keep her out long, for fear her mother should see her. I expect she would never hear the last of it. For once the correct thing has been set aside. What do you say, Elsie?" Dexie whispered; "I am sure Nina will enjoy the drive, even though she may be tormented with the thought of her novel wrappings."
Nina did indeed enjoy the drive. It was so seldom that any girlish pleasures came her way that for once she forgot to worry about her appearance.
Dexie's self-reliant manner was doing much to inspire Nina with courage to act on her own responsibility occasionally, and the few weeks' acquaintance with girls of her own age made quite an improvement in her manner, so that she could now laugh with the rest at the harmless jokes which passed back and forth, without waiting to consult her mamma about the propriety of it.
They were driving along pretty fast, for the streets had become hard and smooth by the continual passing of so many teams; but the speed only added to their pleasure, and no one had a thought of a possible mishap. As they turned a corner the sleigh gave a sudden slew, and instantly all hands found themselves on the ground in one grand, promiscuous heap, the shrill screams of the girls adding to the general confusion. Lancy landed on his feet, and quickly brought the horses to a standstill, and it took but an instant to right the sleigh on its runners again. With quick movements Hugh and Fred picked up their scattered belongings, and helped the girls back into their seats, making many anxious inquiries as to whether any of them were hurt, and they drove rapidly away before a crowd had time to gather. The girls were breathless with laughter and excitement; it had all happened so suddenly they had not time to realize their awkward predicament before they were back into their places again. Lancy was the only one who did not laugh over their tumble, and his frequent apologies made them feel that he blamed himself for the catastrophe.
"Lancy," said Fred, at last, "it was not your fault that we spilled over; that corner was as smooth as glass, andwehadto go, but we are not hurt a bit, so don't take it to heart. Man alive! it was the crowning event of the evening to see Hugh sliding off on his ear! Did you have time to make an observation of my remarkable somersault, Hugh? It was cleverly done; a professional tumbler could not have done it better!" and Lancy was obliged to join in the laugh that followed.
"Well, I have picked up quite an assortment," said Dexie, whose lap was full of articles she had hastily swept from the ground when she rose to her feet. "This is your muff, Maud, and this fur glove must be yours, Mr. McNeil. Now, who claims this silk handkerchief and handbag?"
The handkerchief proved to have come from Nina's pocket, but no one claimed the handbag.
"I have still a fur-lined driving-glove, with a crown on the buttons, a bunch of keys, and a—something in a jewel case. Will the owners please prove property and pay expenses?"
Fred put in a claim for the bunch of keys, but an owner was still wanted for the handbag, driving-glove and jewel case, which, on examination, proved to contain a handsome gold watch.
"Someone else must have been spilled out at the corner besides ourselves, I expect," said Lancy, "and they must have lost these articles. Perhaps we will find some trace of the owner if we search the handbag when we get home. Here we are, Miss Gordon, none the worse for your tumble, I hope," he added, as he drew up to the curb-stone, and Hugh helped her up the steps to the door. The rest of the party were then left at their respective door-steps, as they drove along towards home.
At Elsie's request, Dexie followed her into the house, and they were soon searching the contents of the handbag for some clue to its owner, but with little success. Not so, however, with the watch, for as Lancy touched the spring and caused the case to fly open his exclamation of surprise caused Dexie to look up, and a flush of crimson spread over her face as she read the words that revealed its owner, for engraved on the inside of the case were these words:
"Presented to Lieutenant Wilbur by his brother officers, in token of distinguished bravery."
Hugh could not understand the meaning of Dexie's flushed face, even though he stepped forward and read the inscription over Lancy's shoulder, for he had never learned just how Dexie had escaped from the vessel, but supposed that Lancy had in some way brought it about.
"One good turn deserves another, and—gets it this time," said Lancy, with a meaning smile. "I fancy that Lieutenant Wilbur would not care to lose this particular watch."
"Will you send it back to him, Lancy?" said Dexie.
"No, not I; but I will send him word where he will find it. Do you remember his address?"
"Well, I think I have his card somewhere; but I don't want to see him, Lancy," she said, in a low tone.
Hugh heard the whispered conversation, and wondered what connection there could be between Dexie and the lieutenant that caused such a look on her face at the sight of his name.
Dexie left the watch in Lancy's care and went home, but she was present next evening when the lieutenant called to claim his property; and as he brought with him a letter of introduction from Major Gurney, he was well received, and his pleasant and affable manner won golden opinions from all.
Yet not from all, either, for Hugh McNeil watched him with frowning brows, and he scowled darkly as he observed Dexie and the lieutenant in close conversation in a corner by themselves.
When Hugh met the lieutenant in the hall on his way out, he did not hesitate to put the question that had been troubling him all day:
"You seem to have met Miss Sherwood before, Lieutenant Wilbur. May I ask where?"
The lieutenant looked at him steadily for a moment before replying:
"I am not at liberty to tell you that, at present, Mr. McNeil, for that is Miss Sherwood's secret, not mine. She tells me that she will be leaving Halifax in a few days; if you will call on me at this address, one week after shehas gone," and he handed Hugh his card, "I will be at liberty to place in your hands asouvenirwhich Miss Sherwood leaves in my care for you. Until that time, I wish you good evening;" and, lifting his hat, the lieutenant departed, leaving Hugh much puzzled over his words.
The last day in Halifax—Dexie never forgot it. It was engraved so indelibly on her memory that time had no power to obliterate it. It had been a busy day as well as a sad one, and Elsie Gurney spent the most of it by the side of her friend, helping, as well as hindering her, as the household goods were being packed for removal. Lancy claimed one hour in the evening for himself; and as the rooms in the Sherwood household were almost dismantled, the greater part of the time was spent over the piano in the Gurneys' parlor, and their heart's good-bye was spoken through the one piece of music which they called their own.
"Remember, Dexie," and Lancy turned on the piano-stool and took her hands in his own, "you must not play that piece for anyone; it is yours and mine. When you are alone and think of me, let your thoughts be expressed through our own sweet music. Do you know, my Dexie, I believe I shall know when you are playing to me; that invisible power which we have both felt, but cannot express, much less give it a name, will still be between us, and when my heart goes out to you, my darling, it shall be through the same medium. That piece of music shall be sacred to you alone, and I shall play it for no one else until I see your dear face again. Do you agree, Dexie?"
"Yes, but I feel as if I shall never have the heart to play anything again, Lancy," for this parting from her friend hurt her more than she expected.
"Oh! yes, you will;" and he drew her over to the window within the shadow of the curtains. "The time will soonslip by, and when I go to claim you it will seem to you like coming back home again. I shall always be looking forward to that time, Dexie, so remember your promise."
"You must not forget the conditions, Lancy, and if you find your love grows less, instead of more, be honest with your own heart, and do not, in your pride, hide it from me. Absence may not 'make the heart grow fonder' in our case," she added, with a sad smile.
"Do not prophesy evil, but think of the happy present. Are you afraid or ashamed to own the fact to others, that you care for me at the present time?"
"No, I do not think any one who knows us will accuse either of us of bashfulness; the opposite has been laid to my charge until it has become an old story," she replied.
"Well, seeing that we understand each other, why not wear your ring? I particularly want Hugh to see it on your finger; I don't believe he has given you up yet, Dexie. Will you wear it to please me?"
Dexie unclasped the chain from her neck, and Lancy slipped the ring in its place on her finger.
"I think you need not mind what Hugh says or thinks," she said in a low tone. "I did not intend to tell you, Lancy, but I will confess now that Hugh saw that ring on my finger once before," and she told him the substance of the stolen interview in the upper hall.
"That is how it happens that we are on speaking terms again," she added, "but when Hugh gets well enough to travel, and begins to realize that he is a rich man, he will smile at all this foolishness; but if I live a hundred years, I will never forget that dreadful afternoon in the boat. Lieutenant Wilbur is going to give him his revolver after I am gone; that will be a reminder of it which he won't like, I am thinking!"
The next morning the last article was removed from the house, and the last good-bye given to the friends they must leave behind them. The two families met for the last time in Mrs. Gurney's parlor, and as they lingered over the last words, Dexie seated herself at the piano, and there was no quiver in her voice, though there were tears in her eyes, as she sang:
"Farewell, farewell, is a lonely sound,And always brings a sigh;Then give to me, when loved ones part,That good old word, 'Good-bye.'"
Hugh and Lancy, as well as Elsie and Cora, accompanied the family to the boat, which was to sail about noon. Hugh lingered near the group on the steamer, hoping that Dexie would give him some kind word at parting, and at last Lancy, very generously, took her over to his side, saying:
"Don't look so blue, old fellow; Dexie is not taking a final leave of Halifax. Time is most up, I expect," he added hastily, as he took out his watch, then turned aside as he saw Hugh's agitated face.
"It is really settled, then," said Hugh, in a low voice, as he took Dexie's hand. "I wish you had left something that I could do for you, so that my life will not feel quite so empty."
"I have no favor to ask of you, Mr. McNeil, yet if I hear that you have been kind to Nina Gordon it will please me very much. Mind, I do not ask it of you. If someone would have the goodness of heart to save her from her mother, she would make a sensible woman yet. If Cora Gurney would only take a friendly interest in her, I would not be afraid of the future of mydouble. Good-bye, Mr. McNeil, that is the warning-signal, I believe."
Hugh seemed in no hurry to heed the warning, but stood aside where he could watch Dexie's face as she parted from Lancy. He heeded not the few hurried words so earnestly spoken, nor the fervent clasp of their hands, for there was no answering light in Dexie's eyes as they rested on Lancy's face. Friends were hurrying across the gang plank, but Hugh waited till Lancy had disappeared; then stepping to Dexie's side, he hurriedly whispered:
"I was not mistaken! your heart has not yet awakened, as I said! and Lancy's ring binds no heart but his own. All is fair in love and war, and my chance is as good as his, after all!Au revoir, my little wife!" and he raised his hat and hurried ashore.
His heart beat rapidly, and though he carried away the memory of Dexie's indignant look, he stepped acrossthe plank with a firm, light step. Lancy wondered at the transformation which seemed to have taken place in Hugh since he had seen him on deck, a few short minutes ago; but they stood together and watched the receding steamer, until the one that was so dear to them both was lost to view.
While Dexie was on deck taking her last look of "dear old Halifax," Gussie hurried below to secure the best accommodation for herself, and she was so long in deciding the matter that she appeared only in time to wave her farewell from the deck.
After the bustle of departure had subsided, the steward came forward bringing a moss-lined basket, filled with choice hothouse flowers, saying:
"A gentleman left this in my care, to be delivered to Miss Dexie Sherwood. I believe it belongs to one of you ladies."
"Oh, Dexie, they can'tallbe for you," said Gussie, eagerly, as she reached out her hand and took the basket from the steward's hands.
"Here is a note directed to me; wait till I see who it is from," and Dexie picked a tiny roll of paper from among the blossoms. One hasty glance over the written lines, and Dexie curled her lip in a disdainful smile.
"You may have everyone of them, Gussie, for I don't want them," and she drew herself away, as if the very touch of the basket were odious to her, at which Gussie looked up in surprise.
"Hugh McNeil sent them, so you are welcome to everyone of them," she said in a low voice, as the steward withdrew. "He is very particular to state that they are for me alone," and her lip curled. "I wish they had been brought to me while he was by, I would have tossed them overboard before his eyes! Thank fortune, I have seen the last of him!"
"You will live to be sorry for your treatment of Hugh McNeil, mark my words! He would not have found me so hard to please," and Gussie placed the flowers tenderly beside her.
Strange, but the first thing that Dexie did when shereached the privacy of her stateroom was to snatch Lancy's ring from her finger, almost angrily, and slipping it again on the chain about her neck she snapped the catch with no easy hand; and her face was far from being tender and loving as she put out of sight the pledge of Lancy's love and fidelity, for she was saying in her heart:
"I will never be so foolish as to put that on my finger again; it was wrong to wear it at all. Hugh is right; it binds no heart but Lancy's, and I doubt if I can truly say that much itself, three months from now."
If we look in upon the Sherwood household a few weeks later, we will find them comfortably settled in the busy town of Lennoxville, a town which is noted throughout New England for its manufacturing industries. The house is pleasantly situated a short distance back from the street, allowing room for a neat lawn in front of the house, which is made more attractive by a few flower-beds set near the front entrance, and beneath the windows.
The former owner had taken much pleasure in designing the house and its surroundings, and everything about the premises was neat, convenient and attractive, but financial difficulties had obliged him to relinquish the property just when he might naturally expect to reap the benefit of his labors. Mr. Sherwood had purchased it at a very reasonable figure, considering the advantages it possessed, and having obtained a permanent and remunerative position in the office of a large manufacturing firm, the family had reason to hope that this was their last move for some years.
Dexie was delighted at the possibilities which the well-laid-out kitchen garden at the rear of the house promised to afford. Everything at present was bare and sere, but when the spring opened it would require but little labor, and that of a pleasant description, to prepare a garden that should delight the heart of any housekeeper; and the flower-beds in the front of the house, which were now covered and protected by branches of fir, would in due season blossom into spots of beauty.
The family-life at this time was very pleasant. Gussieseemed to have forgotten, for the time, all her former jealous and unkind feelings, which had made her so often, while in Halifax, an unpleasant member of the household.
Society in Lennoxville was pleasant and attractive, and the Sherwoods were made right welcome among a choice circle of friends. Invitations to social gatherings were showered upon the twin girls until their popularity was so firmly established that no one thought of questioning it.
Dexie missed her Halifax friends very much. She met with no one in her new home who could fill the place that the Gurney family had held in her heart, and among all her many friends there was none she could make such an intimate companion of as Elsie Gurney. In musical circles, Dexie soon filled an envious position; but so far she had met no one whose sympathies were like Lancy's. Oh, yes, she missed Lancy very much, indeed—she never hesitated to confess it when the matter was alluded to; and very often, when alone in the parlor, the piece of music which had such a strange power over each of them filled the air with unmistakable longing, and seemed to speak of loneliness and sorrow. But her bright face expressed no such sad feeling to others; it seemed only the musical side of her nature that mourned the loss of a kind and sympathetic friend.
She heard quite frequently from Elsie, and Lancy's weekly letters were always bright and chatty; but they left Dexie with a certain uneasy feeling that should have had no place in her heart, if Lancy's expressed regards met with the reciprocation which he had some right to expect.
She would not have cared to confess to the relief she experienced when, some weeks later, Lancy wrote to her of his intended visit to England, where he meant to spend a few months among his relatives in Devonshire; and the thought that the wide ocean would be between them, did not cause the same regretful feeling in her heart as it did in Lancy's. Once since they had left Halifax, Dexie, to her surprise, received a letter from Hugh McNeil, that had come enclosed in one to her father. Mr. Sherwood said little as to the contents of his letter; but the earnest, passionatewords in Dexie's left no doubt in her mind that Hugh had small intention of giving up his suit, though for the present he would leave her in peace.
He told her of his intention of making a journey to Australia, to visit the last resting-place of his father; and after an extended journey, he hoped to come back and find all the unpleasantness in the past forgiven and forgotten.
For some time after the letter was received, Dexie fancied that her father regarded her with more attention than was necessary; but it soon passed from her mind without giving her the slightest suspicion that Hugh had placed in her father's hands a substantial and unmistakable proof of the genuineness of his regard.
This was to be unknown to her until such a time as circumstances rendered it necessary to communicate the facts. But if he survived the dangers of the passage, and returned safely and found her still free, he would again endeavor to gain her consent to a closer relationship.
Fortunately for Dexie's peace of mind, Mr. Sherwood kept the matter to himself; but the fact that both Hugh and Lancy intended to put the ocean between them and herself, even for a short time, gave her a sense of relief and security which she would have found it difficult to explain.
One day, a few weeks later, as Mr. Sherwood was returning from his office, he was much surprised to meet Mr. Plaisted on the street, and he stopped and spoke to him cordially.
"Why, Sherwood! is it you? I never expected to meet you here," and Mr. Plaisted shook hands with his former partner.
"I am settled here now," replied Mr. Sherwood. "What are you doing in this part of the country?"
"I am travelling for a New York firm; just arrived intown this morning. Did I understand you to say you were living here?"
"Yes; we removed from Halifax some time ago. Here is the address; drop in and see us before you leave town, if you are not pressed for time," and he handed him a card.
"Thanks! I shall be pleased to call this evening, my kind regards to the family," and raising their hats the men separated, with but a passing thought of their former differences.
The presence of Plaisted in the town was a great surprise to the Sherwood family, and Dexie heard of his intended visit with a frown.
"I am astonished, papa, that you could ask him to call after all that has happened; but it is like his impudence to accept the invitation, which he might know was more an act of courtesy than a desire to renew his acquaintance."
"Let bygones be forgotten, Dexie; it is poor policy to remember old scores too long. It is enough that there will never be any more business relations between us. His stay in town is likely to be short, so there is no fear that he will trouble any of us long."
"Well, I hope you will be careful, and not say anything that he can misconstrue into an invitation to remain with us overnight. But it will be just like him to stay, and stay, and stay, till it is too late to go back to the hotel," said Dexie. "But if he manages, after all, to foist himself upon us, I'll take a cook's privilege and leave the house—until he is out of it in the morning, anyway. So remember, papa, I have 'given warning,'" and she shook her finger at him as she turned to leave the room.
But there was no frown on Gussie's face when she heard of Plaisted's expected visit. She was only anxious to appear at her best, so she retired to her chamber and spent the intervening time over a toilet that was meant to impress Mr. Plaisted afresh. She was ready as ever to turn a listening ear to his flattery, though she had ample opportunity to realize how empty and meaningless were his words.
The family were assembled in the parlor when Mr.Plaisted was announced, and he found no cause to complain of his reception, for even Dexie's cool bow and formal greeting were so much like her former treatment of him that when she ignored his offered hand he did not resent it openly. But in his heart he vowed to "get even" with her. The frigid stare with which she regarded him when he attempted to draw her into conversation reminded him of past discomfitures, and, forgetting that he seldom came off victor when crossing swords with Dexie, he determined to pay off old scores with interest. As his business kept him in town for several days, his calls were quite frequent, but he found no chance of annoying Dexie, save by the one small and spiteful way of addressing her as "Miss Dexter," and the quick, angry glance that was flashed at him as he said it told that she resented it.
One afternoon, when he was in the parlor chatting with Gussie, Dexie came into the room on some errand, and her slight bow of recognition gave him an opportunity to ask, in his sneering manner, if she was "keeping her smiles for the disconsolate lovers she had left behind her in Halifax?"
A sharp retort rose to her lips, but she repressed it, and her lip curled with scorn as she answered his sallies in the coolest terms that common civility allowed. He might as well have tried his cutting speeches on an iceberg for all the satisfaction he received, so he dropped back to the only source of annoyance at his command.
"Can I trouble you for a drink of water, MissDexter?" he said, with a malicious grin.
Dexie took no notice of this request, knowing it was made only for the purpose of using her detested name.
He repeated his request a second time, and even Gussie flushed at his offensive tone, though she called Dexie's attention to the request.
"Dexie, Mr. Plaisted asks for a drink. Where are your manners?"
"I have sent them away for repairs, Gussie dear," Dexie replied, in her sweetest tone, "and I fear they will not be returned to me until after Mr. Plaisted has taken his departure. Very sorry, but they have experiencedsuch a strain these few days past that they were about worn out."
"Dexie, I am ashamed of you! Bring a drink of water for Mr. Plaisted directly!"
"My dearest Gussie, if Mr. Plaisted wants a drink, pray get it for him yourself," was the soft and sweet reply, "for he will surely die of thirst before Dexter brings him a drop. Allow me to suggest that, as an alternative, you can ring for the servant to wait on him, or lead him to the pump like any other—beast," and unmoved by the looks cast upon her she passed into the next room.
"You brought that upon yourself, Mr. Plaisted, but I am very, very sorry," said Gussie, who felt all the insolence of the words that were spoken with such suavity. "Why will you call herDexterwhen you know that it makes her throw aside all civility?"
"Well, itistoo bad, I will allow," replied Plaisted, "but I own that I have only myself to blame when I provoke her into making such stinging retorts; but the temptation to tease her is irresistible, and I owe her for a good many tricks she has played on me."
"Well, were I in your place, I would not call her 'Dexter' any more; though if your experience of her is not warning enough, I need say nothing more."
"Well, I must admit that she has always had the best of it so far; but I will take good care she has no chance to repeat any of her former tactics—though, if I am not mistaken, I have good cause to remember every visit I ever made to your house, thanks to her. However, I ought to take the old proverb to heart, 'Those that live in glass houses should not throw stones,' for I should feel vexed enough if my second name were thrown at me in the same manner. It is quite as odious to me as 'Dexter' is to her."
"What is your second name? 'D.S.' are your initials, are they not?"
"Yes; but you would never guess what the 'S.' stands for. When I was a little shaver my father was particularly interested in the history of the Prophet Daniel and his three friends, Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego, and Ibelieve he fully intended to name me after the four of them; but at my christening mother drew the line at Shadrach. I am just as close regarding my second name as Dexie is about her own—so close, in fact, that not one of my schoolmates ever found it out."
"But did they never ask what the 'S.' stood for?" Gussie asked.
"Of course! but Danuel gave it as Samuel, and had to answer to the name of 'Danuel Samuel'; but that was better than the changes they would have rung on my right name."
Dexie was an unintentional listener to this explanation, and it did not raise Mr. Plaisted in her estimation. It was so like him to treat another in a way he would object to himself; but after awhile the name came back to her, "Shadrach." Where had she seen or heard that name before? "Shadrach; Shadrach," she mused. "I have it!" she said at last; "the 'Widow Bedott'!" and with the thought she flew up the stairs like a whirlwind.
Dexie was soon in the attic kneeling beside an old box filled with books and papers. All housekeepers are apt to know by experience the state and condition of this box, and to possess its counterpart in some out of-the-way corner of the house. After a diligent search Dexie was rewarded by finding a package of loose leaves which once formed a much-loved volume. The very leaf she wanted seemed lost; but to her great joy a leaf, crumpled and torn, proved to be the object of her search. She smoothed it out carefully, glanced over it, and then laughed softly to herself.
"Now it is my turn, 'dear Shadrach, my Shad.' With the help of 'Widow Bedott,' I fancy I can impress this visit upon your mind quite as indelibly as your unwelcome visits in Halifax," and she slipped the loose leaves into her pocket.
Still, as yet she had no definite plan in her mind as to how she would play her game of retaliation; but during the evening she heard her father inquire how long Mr. Plaisted intended to remain in the town.
"I leave the day after to-morrow," Plaisted replied. "I have an appointment in H—— on the fifteenth."
"Oh, to-morrow is St. Valentine's day!" cried Gussie. "I really had forgotten it. You must send me a valentine to remember you by"—this to Plaisted, who had seated himself beside her on the sofa.
"Am I likely to be forgotten without some reminder?" was the low-spoken reply. "I was hoping something quite different."
The mention of valentines gave Dexie an idea, and during the evening she visited several stores where these tokens of sentiment were kept for sale, but found nothing in the shape of a picture that would suit the verses of tender sentiment so touchingly expressed for her beloved Shadrach by the fair widow.
As she was returning home she passed a little shop, the windows of which were decorated with valentines of the one and two cent variety, and one of these caught her attention. It was one of the most common sort, and showed in variegated colors a large fish with two tails for legs, two elongated fins for arms, on one of which was a basket containing some smaller specimens of its own species, while the other held to its mouth the melodious fish-horn that delights our ears every morning.
Purchasing this caricature of a shad, she pasted below it a version of the affectionate lines of Widow Bedott; then enclosing it in an elaborate envelope, she addressed it with many flourishes to:
"Mr. Danuel Shadrach Plaisted,"
and carried it herself to the post office.
As she passed the fish market her attention was attracted by some very fine shad displayed for sale, and they immediately suggested a further means of accomplishing her revenge, so she ordered a supply.
Dexie sought her mother directly she arrived home.
"Don't you think we might ask Mr. Plaisted to dinner to-morrow, mamma?" she asked.
"Please yourself, Dexie; but if he is asked, you must see about the dinner yourself. It will not do to trust Eliza to get up anything extra, you know."
"The dinner shall be well served, but I have a favor to ask, mamma. If Mr. Plaisted is present, will you praise or condemn the fish course—at the table, I mean; praise it highly, or condemn it heartily."
"Well, I cannot see your object in making such a request, Dexie," said her mother in surprise, "but I will not be indifferent, if that is what you mean."
The next morning, when Mr. Sherwood was drawing on his gloves to go to his office, Dexie followed him out to the hall, and as she brushed a few specks from his coat, asked:
"If you see Mr. Plaisted this morning, will you send or bring him up to dinner; but don't say that I told you to ask him?"
"Well, what's in the wind now? I thought you did not care for Mr. Plaisted's society," regarding her intently.
"An invitation to dinner does not mean that I have changed my opinion of him, does it? He has been quite unbearable, so I'm going to 'heap coals of fire on his head.'"
The roguish gleam in her eyes, and the smile she could not conceal, made her father think that there was more in the invitation than he understood, and he surmised that the "coals of fire" were not absolutely figurative.
"All right! I'll see that he gets the invitation. What shall I order for dinner?"
"Nothing, papa; I have everything ready for our expected guest, so don't let him disappoint me."
"Hum-m! there's something up, sure enough; though I can't see through it yet," he said to himself as he walked thoughtfully away.
"So far, so good," said Dexie,sotto voce. "How I wish I could have seen Shadrach when he opened his valentine this morning!"
Dexie would have felt satisfied that her shaft had struck home had she seen Plaisted when he had "taken in" the contents of his valentine.
He had stepped into the office to mail Gussie's valentine, and was much surprised when a beautiful envelope wasplaced in his hands. It held something very sweet and delicate, no doubt, and as he turned aside he pressed it to his lips.
Observing the name of Shadrach, he felt sure it must have come from Gussie; no one else knew his second name, so she must have sent this sweet love-token. It was hardly fair to write out his name in full; but, of course, it was only done to make known the identity of the sender. He thrust it into his pocket and hastened to his hotel, where in the privacy of his own room he could enjoy it without interruption. The loving words he expected to find were certainly there, yet as he read them a dark frown gathered on his brow:
"Dear Danuel Shadrach! thy valentine speaks,While the rosy red blushes surmantle her cheeks;And the joys of requital brings tears to her eye.Now, Shadrach! my Shadrach! I'm yours till I die."The heart that was scornful and cold as a stone,Rejoices to hear the sweet sound of your name;Farewell to the miseries and griefs I have had,But I cannot forget them! dear Shadrach! my Shad!"Dear Shadrach! my Shadrach! my troubles are o'er,My name in its fulness you'll whisper no more;Or your own sweet cognomen will make you feel sad,For I hold the whip-handle! Oh Shadrach! my Shad!"
Mr. Plaisted read the lines over several times before he comprehended their meaning, or understood what connection the absurd picture had with them; but when the whole force of the matter struck him, his rage was uncontrollable. He crumpled the valentine in his hands and threw it with all his force towards the fire, but in his anger he aimed too high, and it struck against the wall and bounced back at him, as if those hateful words were hurling themselves at him.
"Ha! if I only knew who sent that, I'd—"
Words failed to express the punishment awaiting the author of those insulting verses. But wait! did he know the handwriting? at thought of Dexie Sherwood's previous productions coming to his mind. Ah! that last verseseemed to throw out a hint! He looked at his tormentor closely, and doubted. That envelope, yes, Gussie must have sent it, for she had spelled his name "Danuel." He never would have thought that Gussie would be guilty of such a thing. He would go away on the next train and never look on her face again. Yes, he would go at once, and forget the whole cursed stuff—said "cursed stuff" being the affectionate lines which continued to haunt him after the manner of the mind-destroying craze which Mark Twain inflicted on a later generation, "Punch, brothers, punch with care;" for as he walked down the street the words kept time to his feet, the train bells echoed them, and it was those very words that pealed a warning at the crossing. So intent were his thoughts on the affectionate lines that he was oblivious to everything around him, and Mr. Sherwood spoke his name twice before Plaisted awoke from his reverie.
He felt inclined to refuse the kindly-worded invitation to dinner which Mr. Sherwood extended to him, but, on second thoughts, accepted it; he would satisfy himself as to whether Gussie sent the valentine or not. But it took only a few questions to assure him that Gussie was innocent, after all, and she seemed so offended when he asked if she had told his name to anyone that he felt compelled to believe she knew nothing of the matter. Gussie was too much enraptured with her own valentine to take much note of Plaisted's abstracted manner, for even the sight of Gussie's pretty face did not put aside the memory of those tormenting lines.
But his torture was only begun. Dexie was determined to crowd into a few hours the annoyance he had spread over several days in her case. Her plans were well laid, and she had even studied a book of statistics for his benefit. A few minutes before dinner was announced, while Gussie was adding a few touches to her toilet, Dexie came into her room, and, after a few general remarks, said: "Mr. Plaisted has come to dinner, has he not?"
"Yes, papa sent him up. I hope you have something nice for dinner, Dexie."
This was the very question that Dexie hoped to hear, so she replied:"Oh! yes, I think it will pass. There is some nicely-cooked shad for the fish course; but if that does not suit Mr. Plaisted's fancy, there is sufficient besides. Say, Gussie, I don't often ask a favor, but I wish to-day you would praise the shad."
"Praise the shad! Why on earth should I praise the shad! If it is cooked nice, isn't that enough?"
"No, Gussie, not for this occasion; I'm afraid Mr. Plaisted will not be partial to shad, but if the rest of us seem to like it, of course he cannot refuse it."
"Oh! all right. I'll not only praise the shad, but I'll make Mr. Plaisted think there is nothing I like better."
Gussie hastened down to the parlor, where Mr. Plaisted was waiting, while Dexie threw herself into a chair in muffled shrieks of laughter.
"There, now, I guess I can keep a straight face till the time arrives;" and a few minutes later she followed the family to the dining-room.
There was certainly nothing amiss in the manner of the cooking or serving of the shad, and the presence of this particular fish at the table did not strike Plaisted as unusual, until Mr. Sherwood asked if he would be "helped to shad."
His mind by this time had become almost normal, but that one word threw him back into his former state, and brought again that tormenting refrain, "Dear Shadrach! my Shad!" He glared at the dish containing the fish as if he would annihilate it; but, hastily collecting his scattering senses, he took the plate Mr. Sherwood passed him, thinking it a strange coincidence that the never-till-now hated fish should be thrust before him at this moment. He tried to be his natural self, but those haunting lines had full possession of him, and every mouthful seemed to choke him.
Dexie was watching him closely, and felt sure that his abstraction was due to the one cause, and she silently enjoyed his discomfiture.
Gussie, who sat opposite, also noticed it, and remembering her promise to Dexie, began:
"Oh! Mr. Plaisted, I'm afraid you do not care for shad!How unfortunate that we happen to have it for dinner to-day! We are all very fond of shad, myself especially, and this is very nicely cooked, just to my liking," and she gave Dexie a sideward look.
"Yes, wealllike shad, even to the cat," said the irrepressible Georgie. "I found her with her nose in the basket the first thing."
"Be quiet, sir!" said the father sternly, and Georgie obediently subsided, while Dexie could hardly repress a giggle.
"Let me help you to another piece, Plaisted," said Mr. Sherwood. "What! not any more? It is not often we get such good shad in an inland town. Halifax is the place for fine shad! In the season, when the catch is fair, you can get your pick for a song almost, but here, I expect, their scarcity makes them of more value."
"Yes," replied Dexie, "they are rather dear,dear shad," and she looked intently at her plate, well knowing how Plaisted was glaring at her. "Yes," she added, "I call them dear shad when one has to pick over such a quantity of bones before getting a satisfactory mouthful, don't you, Mr. Plaisted?" But Mr. Plaisted laid down his knife and fork, and returned her look with interest.
"I fear you are not making a dinner at all, Mr. Plaisted," Mrs. Sherwood put in. "You do not seem to care for shad."
"No! I detest them, though I was not aware of the fact till to-day," he replied.
"They are not cooked to your liking, I fear! I wish, Dexie, you had looked after them a little better. How do you prefer your shad cooked, Mr. Plaisted?" she added, in a concerned voice.
"I do not care for shad in any shape or form," he said, rather shortly, which caused everyone to look up in dismay, all except Dexie, and she seemed intent on finding the minutest bone.
"I am very sorry! You should have spoken about it sooner. Eliza, remove Mr. Plaisted's plate. I hope we have something else you can relish."
He made a show at eating what was set before him, butit was hard work. Could his entertainers talk of nothing else but shad? It appeared not, for when the conversation seemed about to turn to other things a skilfully put question, or a bit of information, brought the fish back to be discussed in another light; consequently, the shad question was pretty well sifted. The method of catching them, the amount caught during the last season, the catch of the previous year compared with other years; in fact, Dexie seemed to have the fishing reports at her finger-ends, or at the end of her tongue, to speak literally, and Mr. Sherwood seemed delighted with the chance to air the knowledge he possessed to such an attentive listener. But Mr. Plaisted's thoughts were elsewhere; he was repeating to himself the lines he had no power to forget, and when dinner was over he was almost a mental wreck.
Dexie was exulting in his misery, and was longing to let him know she was the author of it.
When they entered the parlor, Mr. Sherwood turned to Dexie, saying: "Give us some music, Dexie; something to cheer us up and drive away the blues," and he nodded at Plaisted, who had thrown himself into a chair.
But seated at the piano, Dexie still kept up the torture of the dinner table by selecting songs that suggested fishing, or fishermen's daughters, until Plaisted rose and walked the floor in ill-concealed distress.
Feeling the crisis near at hand, she tried to think of something that would "cap the climax," but as nothing occurred to her, she added a verse impromptu to what she was singing:
"Oh! father dear, I've caught a fish; I'm sure it is a shad;Pray help me take him off the hook; you see he's hurt so bad!"
This was too much for Plaisted. Taking a sudden turn he faced his tormentor, but she heeded not his angry looks.
"I tell you what, Sherwood!" and he wheeled around angrily, "if I had a daughter who would play such stuff as that, I'd—I'd smash the piano to atoms!" and he brought his fist down on the table with a crash.
"What do you mean, sir!" and Mr. Sherwood was on his feet in a moment. "Your words and actions are insulting!"By this time Dexie was by her father's side, ready to give the finishing stroke to her enemy, and gently pressing her father's arm, said:
"Let me settle this affair, papa. I think, Mr. Plaisted, we can cry quits from to-day. You have found great delight in calling me 'Dexter.' I hope you are equally delighted to hear your own name repeated in its most obnoxious form. I find there is nothing more effective for a man of your stamp than to treat him as he delights to treat others. It is through my exertions that you haveenjoyedyourself so much to-day, and if you ever wish to have the pleasure repeated, just call me 'Dexter,' and I'll do my best to repeat the entertainment."
Everyone looked at Dexie in surprise, and fearing that Plaisted might still have doubts as to her meaning, she swept him an elaborate courtesy, as she said:
"Good-bye, my dear Shadrach! don't forget in the future that 'I hold the whip-handle, dear Shadrach, my Shad!'" and before the family realized what this scene meant, Dexie had left the room and her voice was heard in the hall singing:
"Farewell to thee, oh Shadrach! my dearest Shad, adieu;But Dexter has hereafter the upper hand of you."
Plaisted was about to spring after her when Mr. Sherwood caught his arm.
"What does all this mean, Plaisted? Explain yourself, sir!"
"It means that I am the victim of the most diabolical practical joke that was ever perpetrated on an individual, and it appears that Miss Dexie is at the bottom of it, though you have all assisted her in carrying it out."
"If there is any joke afloat I am entirely ignorant of it, Plaisted, I assure you," said Mr. Sherwood. "I see that something is amiss, but I have no idea what it is, though apparently Dexie is not so innocent."
"Let me explain," cried Mr. Plaisted. "Miss Dexie has, in some way, found out what my second name is, and that it is as hateful to me as 'Dexter' is to her, and she has made it the subject of a very cruel joke. As I supposedthat nobody knew my full name, you can judge of my surprise when I received this from the office," and he held forth the valentine.
"Oh! that's only a valentine, Plaisted. You surely did not allow such a little thing to disturb you?" said Mr. Sherwood.
"But see what the envelope contains," he urged, bringing out the bedecked fish.
But if he expected any sympathy, he was disappointed, for when Mr. Sherwood's eyes rested on the figure and read the lines beneath, shout after shout of laughter rang through the room, and when Gussie stepped over to see what the paper contained her shrill laughter joined the chorus.
"Well, it serves you just right, Mr. Plaisted," said she. "I told you she would make you repent it if you used her name so freely. But I wonder how she found out your name? Could she have been in the back parlor while we were talking?"
"I believe she was!" Plaisted replied. "But the shad for dinner? Need you have added that? The valentine was punishment enough!"
Another shout of laughter from Mr. Sherwood, and Gussie's perplexed looks gave place to an amused smile.
"Dexie planned it herself! Ha! ha! ha! I see it all!" and Mr. Sherwood roared again. "She marked this out as a day of punishment for you, Plaisted, and she has carried it out pretty well! Ha! ha! It was she herself who told me to ask you to dinner, saying she had everything ready for you, and was going to 'heap coals of fire' on your head because you had been treating her badly. Ha! ha! Guess you are pretty well scorched, sure enough!" and he leaned back in his chair and wiped his hot face.
"Yes, shehasscorched me! Those verses are burnt into my memory and repeat themselves in spite of me. But you seemed to have studied up the whole business of shad-fishing just for the occasion."
"But, on my honor, Plaisted, I was entirely ignorant that my talk was annoying you. Come to think of it, Dexie herself kept me at it. How she must have enjoyed it!" and he laughed again."I thought it strange that she ordered shad for dinner," said Mrs. Sherwood. "Yet she actually asked me to scold her before you all if they were not cooked satisfactorily."
"You will not have a chance to call her 'Dexter' again," said Gussie, "unless you want to be addressed as Shadrach or Shad. Whichever you dislike the most, you will be sure to get. Now I understand what she meant when she asked me before dinner if I would praise the shad," and she joined her father's laugh; it was so contagious.
"Well, I will be compelled to cry quits, sure enough," said Plaisted; "but I never suspected that she could make such comical verses."
"Oh! that is second-hand poetry, Plaisted. She has been misquoting the 'Widow Bedott' for your benefit," said Mr. Sherwood.
"And who is the 'Widow Bedott'?"
"She is a character in a most amusing book. Let me advise you to take her as a travelling companion with you to-morrow. After you have read about her Shadrach, the poetry won't trouble you as being too personal."
A short time later Mr. Plaisted left the house, but his day's experience still rankled, and he could truthfully say it was the most unpleasant day he had ever spent. He mentally resolved that should he ever spend another hour in the society of Dexie Sherwood he would treat her with the greatest respect, for his day's punishment would be a lasting reminder of her power of retaliation.