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Becky Saletan, publisher of the adult trade division, will leave next week in a sign of further unraveling at the publisher.

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Stanford Eveleth - Miss Dexie

S >> Stanford Eveleth >> Miss Dexie




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 by the 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 effect of 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 line _this_ side 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
short _tete-a-tete_ with 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 quiet
for 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.




CHAPTER XXV.


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 had exhausted 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 should come 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's considered 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 to _copy_ the 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 as _lost_ when 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 fortune he 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 a puzzled 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?"

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