Stanford Eveleth - Miss Dexie

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And with more earnestness than the subject demanded he replied: "I hope
so."

It was Mr. Gurney who drove to the depot in the evening to meet the
travellers, much to the disappointment of Hugh, who hoped to be the first
to receive Dexie's greetings; but the excitement of their arrival had
somewhat subsided by the time he made his appearance in the house.

It is needless to say there was great rejoicing in the Gurney household
that evening. Elsie was petted and caressed to her heart's content, and she
listened with a smiling face to the oft-repeated remark that she "looked so
much better."

Hugh's unexpected good fortune came in for a share of the discussion which
took place round the tea-table, and the well-cooked _prodigal_ was the butt
of many jokes. Dexie was asked to come in and get her share of the "fatted
calf," as Gracie persisted in calling it, but she begged to be excused,
feeling that she would prefer to spend her first evening at home.

Gussie lost no time in telling Dexie all her hopes and plans, and she gave
the impression that everything was settled. She could talk of nothing but
the splendid time she expected to have in the future.

"Hugh does not say much to me, but I know I can do just as I like with him
after we are married, so I don't mind if he is rather cool and short
occasionally. Of course he means to marry me, or why did he talk so long to
papa about it?" said Gussie, as she followed Dexie downstairs.

"Did papa tell you about it?" a suspicion of the true state of affairs
entering her mind for a moment.

"No--but--well, to tell the truth, I was listening at the door, but I heard
enough to let me know the nature of the interview, for I heard papa say
quite distinctly, 'I don't think she cares enough for you, and she must
marry to suit herself,' so what else could he have meant? Now, I do not
care so very much about Hugh, I must confess--or I did not, I mean, when he
was merely Mr. Gurney's clerk, but with a fortune in his pocket who could
refuse such a fine-looking man?"

"Well, I could, for one," said Dexie, trying to hide a laugh. "He would
need something more than riches to be attractive to me, for all his fine
looks; but I congratulate you, Gussie. I hope you will be happy."

"Of course I will be happy, so long as the money holds out, anyway," said
she, with a laugh that grated harshly on her sister's ears. "Did you see
any brides when you were away, Dexie, and how were they dressed?"

"I wasn't searching for brides, Gussie. I confined my attention to
pollywogs, crabs, and things of that ilk."

Gussie's remarks jarred on her feelings, in spite of her efforts to seem
careless, but she smiled, as Gussie scornfully replied:

"Well, did I ever! I guess if you searched for a sunburnt face and a
blistered nose, you found _them_ fast enough."

"Yes, unfortunately, one can find those sort of things without searching
for them; they are thrown in with the pollywogs for good measure; but my
nose is not half so ornamental as Lancy's. Don't be cross, Gussie. Let us
go into the parlor and wait for the trunks. I have a lot of nice new
patterns in fancywork for you."

They entered the parlor together, where Aunt Jennie followed them, and they
talked about the many events that had transpired during Dexie's absence.
The room was almost dark. It seemed pleasanter to talk in the twilight, but
a bar of light shone from the sitting-room door, and relieved it from any
sombre appearance. Dexie kept wondering why the expressman did not appear;
she was anxious to see if the little treasures she had collected for
distribution had borne the journey safely. She rose at last and went to
the window to see if there was anyone in sight, but she was disappointed.
Not so Hugh, who was just entering the house, and caught sight of her
outline against the window-pane, and, thinking the unlighted parlor vacant
but for Dexie's presence, he softly opened the door and stepped to her
side. All her cold repulses were forgotten, her curt words of dismissal
faded from his memory, his heart was yearning for her presence, she was
there before him, and in a moment he had her in his arms.

"My darling! my love! do I see you at last. How I have longed for this
moment!"

It was so sudden that for a moment Dexie was powerless to move, but she
freed herself quickly, saying, as she stepped back:

"How dare you! How _dare_ you touch me! It is I; not Gussie," she added,
thinking he might have mistaken the person, though his words belied the
thought. "I was watching for the expressman, and did not notice you had
come in; you made a mistake," came the quick-spoken words.

"Well, I should say it was a mistake, and an odd one too," said Gussie,
coming forward. "How could you mistake that mop of a head for mine, Hugh?"

She had seen the embrace, but the whispered words had not reached her.
Naturally, Hugh was much taken back when he realized that Dexie was not
alone, but he anathematized Gussie in his heart, and bit his lips to keep
back the words that sprang up in reply. If Gussie had known how precious
that "mop of a head" was to her quondam lover, she would not have been so
ready to "give herself away," as the trite saying has it.

CHAPTER XXVI.

The embarrassing silence that followed Hugh's entrance was broken at last
by Aunt Jennie, who made some commonplace remark that allowed free speech
to resume itself again. She saw at once the position of affairs; the reason
of Hugh's coolness when in Gussie's society was no longer any secret. She
thought he had lacked the lover-like eagerness that one might expect,
judging the matter from the standpoint of Gussie's frequent remarks.

But believing that Lancy Gurney had more than a friendly feeling for Dexie,
she felt uneasy for the result of the struggle between the rivals. Dexie
would surely suffer between them.

It was impossible for Dexie to feel at ease after Hugh's extraordinary
greeting. She felt vexed at the thought of the spectacle she must have
presented to those who had witnessed it. Did Hugh really know her, or were
his words meant for Gussie alone? The hope that it was the latter made her
decide that it must be; but if she had noticed how carelessly he replied to
Gussie's entertaining chatter, or observed his eager looks in her own
direction, she might have guessed that his heart was not in Gussie's
keeping.

The arrival of the trunks brought a grateful respite to all, and Dexie
disappeared the moment the expressman arrived, but with the excuse of
helping to lift the trunks into the hall, Hugh followed her. Gussie,
however, was close behind; not for a moment would she leave those two
together. After what she had seen in the parlor there should be no chance
of further _mistakes_, if her vigilance could prevent it.

Dexie was so anxious to show her treasures that she opened her trunk as
soon as Hugh deposited it in the hall.

"Here, Georgie," as her brother came running down the stairs, "take this
parcel to mamma, carefully, mind, and ask her if she is too tired to see me
again to-night. When you come back I will give you the box of something
that I heard you wishing for," and looking up to her sister, who was
bending over to watch her, she added, "Here is your parcel, Gussie, and
this is for auntie. Where is she, I wonder?"

"Oh! do let me see what you brought for auntie?" and Gussie caught the
parcel from Dexie's hands and began to inspect the contents.

Hugh was for the moment forgotten, but he still lingered near the door,
hoping that some chance would favor him. He had so much to say, so much
that had been crowded back into his heart during her long absence, that he
felt he must seize the first opportunity to speak of his hopes, and he
wished to assure her that there had been no mistake on his part when he met
her in the parlor. Just then Gussie stepped over to the lamp for a closer
inspection of some fancy patterns, and Hugh turned to Dexie, saying:

"You seem to have remembered everyone but me, Dexie. You have not even a
kind word to give me."

"Well, I have not an _unkind_ word either, Mr. McNeil, so that ought to
count for something, I think," and she stooped to pick up some paper from
the floor, "but I think you deserve a good many for the ridiculous mistake
you made when you came in."

"I made no mistake, except that of thinking the room held no one but
yourself. Give me a chance to prove it, Dexie."

Dexie pretended not to hear, but turned the conversation by saying:

"I have not congratulated you on the good fortune you have met while we
were away."

"Well! I think it is time you did," Gussie answered, awake to the fact that
a low conversation was being held near her. "I am sure it is no everyday
affair to fall heir to a fortune. Weren't you surprised when I wrote to you
about it?"

"Yes, very," and the memory of the letter brought a smile with it. "And if
the possession of money means happiness, I presume Mr. McNeil feels raised
to the seventh heaven of bliss."

"Not yet, Dexie, but I am looking forward to the 'seventh heaven' you speak
of."

"Mrs. Gurney mentioned that you thought of going abroad. I hope Lancy's
absence has not interfered with your plans, Mr. McNeil?" and she made a
move to ascend the stairs.

"Would you like to go abroad, Dexie?"

There was an eagerness in his tone that Dexie did not understand, so she
answered:

"Well, if going _abroad_ means a visit to Great Britain, I say no, most
decidedly! What do I care for the English, Scotch or Irish--as a race, I
mean? My definition of the term abroad is, a tour through Europe, ending
with Egypt and the Holy Land, and farther still if the pocket-book held
out."

"Dexie, will you go abroad with me?"

Gussie looked from Hugh to Dexie in open-eyed surprise. This invitation
might mean much or little.

"Why, Hugh, it would be improper for Dexie to accept such an invitation,"
she hastily said.

"There would be nothing improper about it, if she went as my wife."

"You are carrying your jokes too far, Mr. McNeil," said Dexie, coldly. "If
you want to turn Mormon you had better 'go West, young man,' for when I go
on _my_ wedding tour I want a husband who will be content with _one_ wife,
and, when he and I go abroad, we will go alone. No offence meant; but two
is company, while three is a crowd. So good-night to you both," and she
turned and ran up the stairs, leaving Hugh looking after her with a beating
heart.

"Well, I hope I have been plain enough this time," was her inward comment.
"Can he really care for Gussie and expect to marry her, as she thinks, or
does he want to turn Mormon and marry the both of us? But whatever he has
said to Gussie don't count, so long as he makes eyes at me. I'm willing to
be pleasant and agreeable, if he is to be my brother-in-law; but he shall
not call me 'his darling' and 'his love,' as if it were me he was engaged
to. I wish I had slapped his face for him."

But, figuratively speaking, she had just done so, and if she had seen the
grieved look on Hugh's face as he groped his way out the front door, she
would have realized that her slap had struck home.

Gussie felt indignant, as she stood in the hall recalling the scene just
passed. Hugh had left her without a word, but she could plainly see that
the blame was not on Dexie's shoulders this time.

"I do believe he cares for Dexie, after all; what else could his words
imply? But she does not care for him, that is plain; and it will be a
strange thing if I cannot arrange matters so that he cannot help but offer
himself. After what he said to papa, I know he wants to marry one of us,
and I will see that it shall be myself."

The next day Dexie had a long talk with her father. She had called him
aside to give him the letter she had copied from the one in Plaisted's
handwriting, and when she had explained the circumstances Mr. Sherwood was
much astonished, and praised her for her thoughtfulness in securing an
exact copy.

"I will write to the parties in question and forbid the payment of any
money to him, but I will say nothing to Plaisted about the matter at
present. I will keep a sharp lookout, and directly he tries to put his
plans into execution I will bring him up short. Thank you, my little woman,
you have done a lucky stroke of business for me; but stay a minute," as
Dexie rose to leave the room, "I want to ask you something. How much do you
care for Hugh McNeil?" said he, as she came over to his side.

"Why, papa, what makes you ask such a question? Didn't you make a mistake
in the name?" she said, archly. "Didn't you mean to say--Lancy Gurney?"

"No; I have a guess that way. But how about Hugh? Come, I have a reason for
asking," and he drew her down to his knee. "Think a minute, and tell me."

"But, papa, I don't need to think a moment in order to answer that
question. I don't like him at all. You should ask Gussie that question."

"I need not, for I think I know what her answer would be; but I have a
little story to tell you, and I want you to give it serious consideration.
As soon as Hugh McNeil knew about the money coming to him, he asked me for
a private interview. From what Gussie said, I expected that he intended to
ask for her. But Hugh was very straightforward, and made the whole matter
plain, and, Dexie, he asked for the liberty of making you his wife. He said
he was willing to wait any reasonable time for you, if only he had the
promise of your hand in the end."

"Papa! you never told him _yes_! say you did not!" cried Dexie, springing
to her feet and regarding him with beseeching eyes. "My dear, I could not;
so do not look so frightened about it," and he drew her back to his side
again. "I am not willing to give my little girl to anyone yet, but I am not
insensible to the fact that a man who loves my daughter as Hugh professes
to love you, and can provide for her so handsomely, is worthy of some
consideration."

"Why couldn't he take Gussie? She wants him and I don't," she answered with
a frown. "I am sure Gussie told me she was all but engaged to him. He
doesn't want the both of us, I hope."

"Dexie, I am sorry to say that Gussie has not acted so well about this
matter as I could wish. She makes no secret of the fact that she would
gladly accept the position he offers you, and it annoys him. Hugh confessed
to me that at one time he did think he cared for Gussie, but found his
mistake, and he has been so open with me about it that I cannot blame him
for the change. Think it well over, Dexie, before he talks to you himself.
A handsome man like Hugh, with a good bank account, will not come in your
way very often. He offered to make a handsome settlement on you, directly
you promised him your hand."

"Dear papa, would you like your poor Dexie to be unhappy for life?"
throwing her arms around his neck. "I am sure you would not," as he drew
her closer to him. "I could never marry Hugh; his very presence makes me
feel pugnacious, and I feel like picking a quarrel with him every time I
speak to him, and I enjoy doing it, too."

"Well, in that case it would not be pleasant to live your life with him,
would it? but still it seems a pity to lose the money when he seems so
anxious to put it into your hands. Your life would be so different with
money at your command. If it were only Gussie, now."

"Yes, if it were only Gussie everything would go smoothly while the money
lasted; but you did not tell me the result of the interview, papa."

"I told him I would leave the matter for you to settle, but I gave my
consent, if he gained yours. I think he would be good to you, Dexie."

"Well! I guess he would have to, if he once got me, or I would know the
reason why! What does mamma say about it, for I suppose she knows?"

"She seems much put out that it is not Gussie he asks for, but she hopes
you will not be so foolish as to throw the chance away. That is the opinion
of the both of us, you see, so do not decide hastily, Dexie."

"Dear me, how provoking it is! Mamma will be vexed, and I cannot help it,
for I really cannot _say_ I consent when I feel such a dislike to the man.
Some young ladies would see nothing but his fortune; but think, papa, we
might live for fifty years! and I can't look forward to fifty years of life
spent with Hugh McNeil. So tell him for me, papa, that it cannot be."

"Take time to think it over, Dexie, before he gets _any_ answer, for Hugh
will be much disappointed if you refuse him. I promised to plead his cause
for him, but I cannot do so against your inclinations, since it will be you
alone who must live your life with him. But, Dexie, many people live
happily together without loving each other overmuch, so do not think it
impossible for you to do the same. Do you care so very much for Lancy
Gurney?" he asked, after a pause.

Dexie did not feel so embarrassed over this question as her father
expected. She was pleased to have her father take such an interest in her
little affairs of the heart, and show his sympathy in things that are
usually left to the mother and daughter to talk over together.

"I do not know if I can explain it to you, papa," she replied with a smile.
"I don't think I should care to marry Lancy--indeed, I am quite sure I
never shall, but I like him very much for all that; but you need not tell
anyone I said so, will you, papa?" she added, seeing a smile in her
father's eyes. "Lancy has been very kind to me ever since we came to
Halifax. You know yourself he has added very much to my pleasure by his
thoughtful attentions, but I do not think it will end as Lancy expects,"
and a pretty blush spread over her face.

"Then you have not given him any promise!" smiling at her red cheeks.

"No, but he seems to think everything will be as he hopes, and is so
pleasant over it that it is a pity to undeceive him. I'll promise not to
allow any love-making, for he knows very well it is useless to become
sentimental with me. Please don't tell my little secrets, not even to
mamma, for she is sure to tell Gussie."

"Do not be afraid to trust me with your little affairs, Dexie," he said,
kissing her cheek. "I am only too glad to be your confidant and adviser. I
am sorry that your mother feels so little inclined to take the same
interest in your affairs; you need her more now than when you were a
child."

Mr. Sherwood watched his daughter with loving eyes as she tripped away from
his side, and he wished for the power to look into the future and see how
matters would end. He sighed as he realized how much depended on her own
judgment; but his daughters must each settle for herself the question that
would make or mar their future lives.

A change took place in the Sherwood household a few weeks later, for Aunt
Jennie was obliged to return to her old home in Vermont, which was such an
unlooked for event to Mrs. Sherwood that it quite upset her. They had all
become so used to looking to Aunt Jennie for everything, that the house
would seem to be without its head if she were gone.

When Dexie told her aunt how the Fremont girls managed the household
expenditure and took the oversight of much of the housekeeping
arrangements, Aunt Jennie replied that she thought her niece quite as
capable as the Fremont girls, and asked Dexie if she could not undertake to
fill her place after she was gone, as she knew Mrs. Sherwood would be glad
to be relieved of the charge. When Dexie broached the matter to her mother,
she found her quite willing to let anyone step into the gap, so Dexie
determined to learn as much as she could while her aunt was present to
advise her.

The little account books were brought out and studied, until Dexie felt
sure she understood what ought to be done, though she doubted her ability
to put the knowledge into practice. But her doubts soon gave way to a
feeling of confidence in herself as, day by day, she mastered new
difficulties.

"I think I will make a wonderful housekeeper, by and by, mamma," Dexie
said, as they were all seated in her mother's room, and Mrs. Sherwood was
regretting Aunt Jennie's approaching departure. "I am learning fast. Even
Nancy gives me encouragement. The only thing that troubles me is the fact
that Nancy thinks I am playing at housekeeping, and I am afraid she will
resent my authority after auntie goes away. I shall have to wear a cap and
spectacles to add dignity to my new position," she laughingly added.

"How absurd you are, Dexie," said her mother, with a frown. "If you intend
to act as housekeeper I hope you will try and be less childish; and to go
through the house whistling like a boy, as you did to-day, is far from
lady-like. Will you ever learn to be genteel like your sister Gussie?"

"I think Dexie should be given her full name in the future," Gussie added,
"if she intends to rush through the house like her namesake round the race
course."

"But I will not be called after Bonner's trotting-horse! I will not!" said
Dexie, angrily. "I fancy this would soon be a queer house if there was no
one in it with more energy about them than you possess! However, let us
return to the matter under discussion," said she, more mildly. "I want to
know, in case I make any savings from the month's allowance, if I can
pocket the remainder."

"I am afraid, Dexie, that you will not find much left over, for the first
few months," her aunt said smilingly. "You must allow something for your
inexperience, you know."

"Oh! I know that, auntie. But can I have it, mamma, much or little? Make
the bargain with me, mamma."

"Certainly, Dexie; but you cannot expect to save much out of the usual
month's allowance unless you scrimp us."

"Oh, I'll promise not to scrimp," was the laughing reply. "But I am going
to begin my reign while auntie is here; then my inexperience will not cost
me so much. I kept my eyes and ears open when I was at Mrs. Fremont's, and
I didn't peep and listen either; but I learned a few things that I think
will be a great help to me in my future sphere."

"I think Gussie had better join you in this branch of study," said Mr.
Sherwood, laying down his paper. "It will be as much benefit to her as to
you."

"Thanks, papa. I beg to decline the honor! I have no wish to shine as a
domestic; it is not in my line," said Gussie, in a lofty tone.

"Well, I do not expect to run the house as smoothly as Aunt Jennie--I am
sure you will not expect it of me, mamma--but I will do my best, and it
will be nice to learn just how to do things."

"That is right, Dexie. Every girl should learn how, even though she may
never have to put her own hands to the work itself. But do not be too
particular about keeping within the monthly allowance; I am quite as
willing to pay for housekeeping lessons as for music lessons."

How Dexie prized the weeks that followed! In after years she looked back to
them with a thankful heart, for Aunt Jennie did not confine her teaching to
the art of housekeeping alone. The inward culture of the heart was not
forgotten. The good seed was sown with no sparing hand, and though some lay
weeks, months and even years without bearing fruit, yet few were altogether
lost.

What a blank her absence caused in the household! She had filled a mother's
place among them, for the loving tact that bridged over the little jars
that are apt to occur in every household was not one of Mrs. Sherwood's
accomplishments.

The first few weeks after her aunt's departure were very trying ones to
Dexie. There seemed much fault-finding that was really unnecessary, but
Dexie honestly tried to do her best. She could see her own failures as well
as her successes, and when she found that much of Nancy's ill-temper was
due to Gussie's interference in the kitchen, she laid the matter before her
father, and that put an end to many petty annoyances.

Dexie had much to bear from her mother also, for Mrs. Sherwood felt
aggrieved that Dexie did not appreciate Hugh McNeil's attentions as she
thought they deserved. His visits were a daily occurrence, and it was
vexing to see Dexie refuse what would have been so acceptable to Gussie.

"If you do not intend to marry him, why do you not tell him so plainly?"
she said one day, when Dexie had shut herself up in her room to avoid
meeting Hugh. "What is the use of keeping out of his way, when you know
what he wants to see you for?"

"Why should I put myself in his way, when I do not want what he has to
offer? He shall not talk to me about it, either, unless he does so before a
third party. I will not see him alone! I sent him a decided answer through
papa, so why can he not be satisfied with that? I declare, I almost hate
the man!"

"Tell him so, plainly; then, and give Gussie a chance. She is not so
foolish as to allow any sentimentality to come between her and a fortune."

"I have already told him so, as plainly as I can, mamma. But if you think I
am standing in Gussie's way, just give Hugh McNeil this message from me.
Tell him that I will _never_ marry him; that I hate the very sound of his
footsteps; that if his fortune were four times multiplied, I would not have
him; that I want him to cease persecuting me with his hateful attentions,
and leave me alone! Now, is that plain enough for any sensible man to
understand, do you think?"

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