Stanford Eveleth - Miss Dexie

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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.

CHAPTER XXIII.

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 than when 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 permission to 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 times as 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 wad be 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."

CHAPTER XXIV.

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 regale themselves 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 soon learn 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.

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