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Honore de Balzac - "The Physiology of Marriage, Complete"

Books of The Times: It’s Still Making the World Go ’Round
Becky Saletan, publisher of the adult trade division, will leave next week in a sign of further unraveling at the publisher.

Houghton Mifflin Publisher Resigns
Michael Wolff has written a supercilious yet star-struck portrait of Rupert Murdoch, the planet’s most notorious press baron.

Books of The Times: A Media Mogul With Relentless Moxie
Mr. Friedlaender was a book-loving lawyer and financial adviser whose collection of early printed books caused a stir in bibliophilic circles when it went to auction.

Stanford Eveleth - Miss Dexie

S >> Stanford Eveleth >> Miss Dexie




She came towards the bed, and complied with his directions, knowing full
well that Hugh's eyes were devouring her face.

"Is it you, Dexie, or your spirit?" the words were low and tremulous, but,
in the stillness of the room, sounded clear and distinct.

"It is I, Mr. McNeil, alive, and well as ever I was."

"Thank God!"

His eyes closed, and with a gesture the doctor dismissed her; then taking
his seat beside the bed, he watched until he was assured that Hugh had
fallen into a natural sleep.

As Dexie left the room, she mentally said a final good-bye to it, feeling
thankful enough that her services would not be needed again to hush the
despairing cries or still the grasping hands that had clutched at space. It
was the last time her eyes rested on Hugh for weeks. She knew he was
recovering, and that was enough.

During his convalescence, Dexie never entered the Gurney household, lest by
some chance she might come face to face with her enemy.

The occurrence on the boat was tacitly dropped by all parties concerned,
and only when Hugh accidentally heard that the Sherwoods were preparing to
return to the States did his reserve break down, and it was to Mrs. Gurney
alone he expressed his regrets and intentions.




CHAPTER XXXI.


"Here's news, girls; we are going back to Maine!" and Georgie rushed into
the sitting-room where his sisters and their girl friends were chatting
together. "Papa says we are going back _for sure_, in just a few weeks,
too! Isn't that jolly?" and he manifested his delight in a series of
handsprings that would have charmed the heart of an acrobat.

"Yes, I heard something of it, but hoped it would not come to pass," said
Dexie.

"It is the best news I've heard for a long time, the sooner we leave this
horrid place the better I'll be pleased," was Gussie's comment.

Elsie was quite depressed at the thought of parting from her friends; but
the intervening weeks were full of pleasure and excitement, and drives and
parties seemed to follow one another in quick succession.

One day Dexie came in from a shopping expedition in great excitement,
saying:

"Oh, girls, I have met my double; met her down in a store on Granville
Street, and I actually followed her until she entered a house on Spring
Garden Road. If she had worn one of my suits, I should have expected her to
walk home instead of me. I began to think 'this could not be I.' Whom do
you think she can be?"

Nobody knew; but a few days after, Lancy related the fact that he had
hurried after a lady, supposing her to be Dexie, and found he had been
following a stranger.

"I am going to find out who this young person is," said Dexie, laughing.
"Who knows, perhaps it is my only chance to 'see myself as others see me.'"

After a few inquiries, it was found that Dexie's double was a Nina Gordon,
only daughter of a widow lately arrived in Halifax, and residing with a
bachelor brother who was travelling for a city firm.

Cora Gurney happened to meet both mother and daughter while making a round
of calls with a friend, and she ran in to tell Dexie of the meeting.

"Your double is not very much like you after all, Dexie," she said. "Her
figure and style of walking are remarkably like yours, even to the poise of
her head; her hair, too, is almost the same shade; the eyes and upper part
of the face are similar: but the mouth and chin are her own--they have no
resemblance whatever to the true Dexie. It is the first sight that strikes
one. When you look for the resemblance, it really seems slight enough, and
when she begins to talk, my! the illusion vanishes at once, for really I do
not think I ever met a person who irritated me as she did. She is a girl
after the 'china doll' pattern, and can only use her brains at the
direction of her mother. I do not think she ventured a remark of her own
all the time I was there."

"Perhaps she did not have the chance," said Dexie, eager to champion the
cause of her double. "Some girls are not allowed to have an opinion apart
from the maternal idea of the fitness of things, and are kept down."

"Nonsense! If you had heard her talking, Dexie, I'm sure you would have
felt like shaking her. It is only when her face is in repose that she
resembles you in the least, for the moment she begins to talk, or even
listen--or try to listen, one might say--she has the most senseless
expression I ever saw on a woman's face."

"Goodness sake! bring me a looking-glass, quick! do, till I see what I look
like when I talk. Does my face assume an idiotic expression when I am
conversing? Be honest and tell me, for sweet charity's sake."

"Ease your mind, Dexie," said Cora, laughing. "Did I not say that there the
resemblance ends? It is only when her face is at rest that the likeness can
be seen at all. If you ask her the simplest question, she must refer to her
mother for advice before she replies. For instance, I asked her if she
liked Halifax. 'Do I like Halifax, mamma, do you think?' and she turned to
her mother with such an affected simper. Really, I almost disliked her the
moment she opened her mouth."

"I hope I shall get a chance to see her before we leave Halifax," said
Dexie.

"Well, I asked her and her mother to call on mamma next week, almost on
purpose for your benefit. Hugh is getting along so well I think mamma can
receive some friends. I will let you know when they come."

A further acquaintance corroborated Cora's idea of Nina Gordon's brains.
She seemed to have no mind of her own; a good thing, perhaps, in some
cases, but a more spiritless person to talk to never vexed the heart of man
or woman either. She had no answer for the simplest question without first
asking it from her mother, and away from her mother's side she was uneasy
and almost dumb.

The mother's idiosyncrasy was always to do "the correct thing." The fear of
not doing it, or the dread of having done it unknowingly, was constantly
before her--the bugbear that troubled her daily. Perhaps the daughter
inherited the mother's dread, and her fear of doing or saying something
that was not just "the correct thing" made her put all the responsibility
of conversation on her mother's shoulder. Dexie was amused, as well as
provoked, as she listened to the efforts at conversation which Cora vainly
endeavored to sustain with her double, and it was evident that Mrs. Gurney
also was surprised as well as amused at Mrs. Gordon's remarks.

"However do you manage with such a large family, Mrs. Gurney?" she was
saying. "Why, with only Nina I am wearied to death; for from the time she
wakes up I must see to everything for her until she goes to bed again at
night. How you manage it for so many, I can't see, I am sure. I should die
of fatigue."

"Oh! the children soon get big enough to help themselves, and the younger
ones, too," Mrs. Gurney replied, with a smile. "I seldom see my girls in
the morning until I meet them at the breakfast table."

"Is it possible! Do you not have to superintend their dressing?" she asked,
in surprise.

"Why, no, Mrs. Gordon! Girls of that age," waving her hand toward the group
by the window, "are supposed to have judgment of their own in such things,
and with some to spare for the little ones."

"Dear me! I should be so afraid they would not do the correct thing if I
was not by."

"Perhaps you are by when she ought to rely on herself," was the smiling
answer. "My girls are relieving me of much of the burden of household
cares."

"Well, well!" and Mrs. Gordon looked across at the girls in surprise. "I
wonder you are not in constant dread that some of them might not do the
correct thing when you are not near with your instructions. How wonderful
that you can trust them alone so much! Nina seems a child in comparison."

Dexie was mentally comparing Nina to a big, useless doll; for she had to
conclude that Nina cared for nothing but "to be dressed up and wait in the
parlor for callers."

The girls coaxed Nina away from her mother's side while the latter was
talking to Mrs. Gurney; but directly she was asked a question she wanted to
rush back to her mother, and see how she should answer it.

"But don't you know yourself whether you like music or not?" Dexie asked
her, as Nina vainly endeavored to catch her mother's eye. "Do you not play
or sing, Miss Gordon?"

Nina picked at her gloves in embarrassment as she replied, with a simper:

"Well, I play scales on the piano sometimes."

"Then you _are_ fond of music, I suppose," said Cora, pleasantly.

"Well, I think I am. I will ask mamma; she knows if I like it. Is it quite
correct to like music, do you think?"

The silly look which accompanied this speech made Dexie almost disgusted
with her, but she turned to Cora and smiled significantly.

"Well," said Dexie, when her double had taken her departure, "she has tired
me out; but with that chin what can anyone expect? It tells her character
at a glance."

"Tell us your opinion of her," said Cora. "Do _you_ see the great
difference there is between you?"

"Why, she is different every way. First in importance is temper; there she
has the best of me, for she is as mild as milk-and-water, and I own it
certainly is not the 'correct thing' to get into such rages as I do. She
gives the impression that she is never determined about anything, and
anyone can persuade her that this, or that is right, as she has no mind to
solve the matter for herself. She will go through life depending on
another's conscience to keep her straight; but with that chin what else
could she do?"

"What does her chin say?" said Cora, smiling.

"'Unstable as water; unstable as water.' I saw the words every time I
glanced at her."

For the next few days Dexie endured much teasing about her intelligent
_double_; but she bore it all so good-naturedly that it soon died away.

Much to everyone's surprise, Dexie endeavored to see Nina frequently, and
tried to induce her to visit them often; and Dexie laughingly gave as her
reason that she would like to knock a little common-sense into her _double_
before she left Halifax, for fear people might think that Nina was her
exact counterpart in everything.




CHAPTER XXXII.


One day, as Dexie was going to the post office, she met Miss Taylor, and
the memory of the adventure in the snowstorm with Lancy and Elsie rose
vividly before her mind as she grasped the outstretched hand in friendly
greeting.

"I am in such a dilemma, Miss Sherwood!" she exclaimed. "I drove into
Halifax with a neighbor, and he was to meet me an hour ago; but I have
discovered that his usual absent-mindedness has caused him to forget all
about me. I am at my wit's end, for mother will be alarmed at my absence."

"Come home with me, Miss Taylor. Oh! you must," as a refusal rose to her
lips, "and if you really _must_ return home to-night, it can easily be
managed, I know."

After much persuasion, Miss Taylor accompanied Dexie home; and as she
explained the necessity of returning that night, Mrs. Gurney told Lancy to
order the horse and buggy and drive her out.

Lancy seconded Miss Taylor's request that Dexie should drive out with them,
and the gay little party reached the Taylor homestead about sundown,
greatly to the surprise and relief of Mrs. Taylor, who feared that Susan
might try and walk the distance rather than miss the evening's festivities;
for there was to be a marriage in the family that night, and Susan had been
obliged to hasten to the city for some necessary trifles that had been
forgotten until the last moment. Lancy and Dexie stayed until after the
ceremony, but, having a long drive before them, declined the kind
invitation to linger.

As they drove homewards the conversation turned on the intending departure
of the family from Halifax.

"I have been waiting for a chance to have a good talk with you, Dexie, ever
since I heard you were going away; but there has been so much going on that
I never seem to see you alone a minute. Are you sorry to go, Dexie?"

"Yes, indeed I am. I have found Halifax so pleasant that I shall always
regret leaving it."

"But you are coming back sometime, you know, Dexie? I am sure you know I am
constantly looking forward to the time when you will be my wife. We
understand each other, do we not?"

"Well, I am not sure that we do, Lancy. I doubt if we look at things in the
same light," and she gave a quick glance into the face that was regarding
her so earnestly.

"But you know how much I care for you--that I love you, Dexie?" he said,
taking her hand. "You have never told me you cared for me in so many words,
Dexie, but I am sure you do. They are all pleased with the idea at home,
and father has promised to take me into partnership the first of the year.
Until then I shall not know just how much of an income I shall have, but I
know it will be enough for us to live on quite comfortably; and we could
live in the part of the house that you occupy now. But you have not said
the word yet that will bind us. Will you be my wife, Dexie?"

"Lancy, I will be honest and plain-spoken; then there will be no
misunderstanding. Of course, I care a good deal for you, but I really do
not believe I love you as a woman should love the man she marries; and you
may meet the one who will give you that love some day, then you will be
sorry you put that question to me. Honestly, Lancy, although we have cared
very much for each other's society, I don't believe we would be half as
happy together as man and wife as we are now. I can't imagine myself living
with you day after day, and performing the little daily services for you
that come so naturally from your mother, and which goes to make your
father's life so comfortable and happy."

"Why need you pattern your future life after that of my mother; your mother
does not--" Lancy paused in embarrassment.

"Oh! you need not mind saying it to me; it is only between ourselves. You
want to say that my mother does not put herself out to do much for the
happiness of the rest of us."

"No, I was not intending to go so far as that, Dexie."

"Well, I hope when I get married that I shall care enough for my husband to
feel like exerting myself a little towards making the house comfortable. I
want a happier married life than I see at home. I suppose we all have our
ideals, but I would sooner take your mother for an example of what a wife
should be, rather than mine."

"I believe you and I would live very happily together, Dexie; if you cared
for me as much as I care for you, there would be no trouble," and he
pressed the hand he held in his.

"Oh! I daresay we might get along quite _passably_, Lancy; but that doesn't
seem to me enough, and I do not want to be bound by a promise which, in the
future, we might both wish was never made."

"Dexie, I never thought you would put me off like this," said Lancy, in a
wounded tone "You have known all this time how much I care for you, and how
it was to end, and yet you think I may fall in love with someone else when
you have gone away. How can you think such a thing?"

"I have no cause to think so, Lancy, for indeed you have been most kind to
me all along; but I cannot help thinking that you may meet someone else who
would suit you better, and yet you would feel bound to me if a promise was
made between us. Let me go away free, Lancy, and if by the time you are
ready to take a wife you find your feelings the same as they are now, ask
me your question again; perhaps I will know my own mind by that time, for I
must confess I hardly do at present."

"I will never change; but you--you want to leave the way open for yourself,
and I thought you cared for me, Dexie."

Dexie felt hurt at his reproachful tone, but she put her hand across his,
saying: "Lancy, don't be silly, for I do care for you. I do not know any
other person, outside my own family, that I like so well as I do you. Now,
will that admission satisfy you? But do not ask a promise from me for a
year; give me even six months; by that time we will know whether we are
necessary to each other's happiness or not."

"Very well, Dexie, but I shall feel that you are mine, even though you have
not given me your promise; so do not let any romantic notions run away with
you when I am not near to watch you."

"But, Lancy," said she, laughing, "supposing I should happen to meet some
person who inspired me with love such as one reads of in story books, would
you care to have me for a wife if my heart were not in the bargain?"

"No, Dexie, I hope you are supposing impossible things. Would you break my
heart?"

"Hearts don't break, Lancy," she said, smiling; "they may ache, but I doubt
if they ever break."

"Dexie, you make my heart ache already. I have planned and hoped so much,
and you give me so little to build on, after all. Is it fair to trifle with
me like this?"

There was a few minutes' silence, then Dexie said:

"Lancy, think a minute. Have I ever been guilty of trifling with anyone's
feelings? Have I not been open and outspoken to you in everything? I am
afraid, Lancy, this very fact has made you think that I care for you more
than I really do, but I think that too many young girls jump into matrimony
with their eyes blindfolded, and I do not intend to add to the number.
There is plenty of time to settle the question, when I know that I really
love you. It would not be honest to deceive you in this, Lancy."

"My Dexie, you could not deceive me if you tried. I am perfectly content
with the love you have for me already, without waiting for the romantic
passion which some story-writers consider necessary before a marriage
should take place. But your answer has disappointed me, Dexie, for I
expected to present you to mother, on our return, as my promised wife.
Indeed I was so sure you would not refuse me, I prepared myself with this,"
and he took from his pocket a little casket containing a handsome
engagement ring.

"Lancy, how could you?" The words seemed to come from the depths of her
heart.

"Do let me put it on your finger, Dexie. Think what happiness you will give
me by wearing it."

"Lancy, I want to please you, really I do, but don't ask me to put it on. I
always think a ring binds the person receiving it the same as it binds the
finger, and, once on, is almost a sacred thing; and feeling as I do, I
don't want to wear it lightly. Lancy, can't you trust me for six months
without a reminder?"

"Yes, but I wish you would wear it as a 'sign between me and thee'; do not
refuse me this, Dexie."

"Let me wear it on my chain, then, and I will take it," and she drew from
her neck a fine gold chain with a pretty charm attached. Detaching the
latter, she held it to him, saying:

"This is my one treasure, Lancy, take it in exchange; if ever you care for
another more than for me, send it back to me. I will wear your ring in its
place on the same conditions," and she clasped the chain around her neck
again, hiding the ring in her bosom.

Lancy placed the precious token in an inside pocket containing some other
treasures, and Dexie blushed as she recognized them as some trifles of her
own.

"I think I can claim that glove," said she, laughing as Lancy tucked the
little parcel in his pocket. "I have missed it for some time."

"You shall have it when the hand is mine that fits it," said he with a
bright smile, as he raised her hand to his lips. "I wonder if you realize
how much I shall miss you, Dexie. The only ray of comfort I can see is the
thought of the pleasure your letters will give me; only for that I would go
melancholy, like Hugh."

"Lancy, don't joke about Hugh; I can't bear it. I was so startled when I
saw him out last Sunday. He looked so pale and thin I could hardly believe
it was he. Does he ever mention my name, Lancy?"

"Never; but if anyone happens to bring it up in connection with anything,
he seems that eager to hear every word, that I can't help feeling sorry for
him. Be careful and don't make me your second victim."

"I do not believe I am responsible for Hugh's condition, and it is not fair
for you to speak as if I was; but now he is able to be about, I am in
constant terror lest he will corner me sometime and renew his attack. That
is the only thing that makes me feel glad that I am leaving Halifax. I am
afraid I could not bear such another scare as he gave me that day in the
boat."

"I will make it known to him in some way that you are to be my wife; and
when he hears it, I am sure he will never trouble you again. When
everything is settled, I will go and claim you; and I fancy Hugh will not
stay in Halifax when we are married. How soon do you think you will be
going away?"

"Sometime within a month. Papa is weatherwise, and thinks the winter will
set in early, so is anxious to hasten our departure."

A few evenings later, there was a small family party at Mrs. Beverly's, to
which Mr. and Mrs. Sherwood and the twin girls were invited. Cora and Elsie
Gurney were also going with Lancy and Hugh. This being the first time Hugh
was able to appear at such a gathering, he was building many air-castles in
connection with it, for he would there meet Dexie for the first time since
his illness. He had made inquiries as to whether Dexie would be present,
and being assured that she intended going, he looked forward to the meeting
with a pleasure that was not unmixed with pain.

But when Dexie heard that Hugh intended going, and had been asking about
her intentions also, she thought she would give it up; yet considering that
she must of necessity meet him sooner or later, she thought it would be
wiser to do so among a number of people.

Everything seemed to go wrong with Gussie that day. She had heard by some
chance that Dexie and Lancy were really engaged, and as Dexie would neither
admit nor deny the fact, she felt exasperated almost to madness.

As the day wore on, Gussie's incessant bickerings became unbearable, and
among other things she charged Dexie with the most heartless behavior in
regard to Hugh, until she could not bear the thought of meeting him, so she
silently decided to remain at home, but to say nothing about her decision
until the last moment; consequently, no one had a chance to tell Hugh that
Dexie had changed her mind.

When the guests were assembled in the commodious parlors, Hugh searched in
vain among the different groups for a trace of the face he was so anxious
to see. Once he gave a start as a face turned towards him--a face that
seemed to belong to the form he was seeking--but when the sound of the
voice reached his ears he turned in disgust, for it was only Nina Gordon.

Later on he learned from Gussie that Dexie had turned "sulky" at the last
moment and refused to come. His face lighted up at the information, and
Gussie never knew that her news sent him to make excuses and adieus to his
hostess, and drove him homeward at a pace that seemed unnecessary, seeing
that he had so much leisure time at his command.

Dexie had gone to the parlor to get a book, and stepping to the bow window
to draw the curtains, saw his well-known figure hurrying down the street.

"Goodness! here is Hugh coming back! What has happened, I wonder?"

It took her but a moment to fasten the hall-door, and running to the
kitchen, said:

"Nancy, if anyone calls, do not admit them to-night. You can say the family
are out. I am going to the upper hall to finish my book." Then, laying her
hand on Nancy's arm, she said in a low tone: "Don't let Hugh McNeil come in
to-night, Nancy. I have fastened the front door, so he can't come in unless
you let him."

"Rest easy, missie; you shan't be troubled if you don't like. But I mind he
is off to the party with the rest."

"I have seen him coming back, so I wanted to warn you."

"All right, then. Ye have had a hard day, missie; run off with yer book.
It's meself that will see ye are not troubled the night by anybody."

Nancy had been in the family long enough to know something of their
affairs, and she took quite an interest in the doings of her favorite. She
saw more than she let anyone suppose, and her apparent stupidity was often
put on as a "blind."

With a book as a companion, Dexie was soon in her favorite retreat, for she
had one cosy little corner which no one cared to dispute with her. The
recess at the end of the upper hall she had curtained off, and besides the
few blooming plants on the wide window-sill it held an old-fashioned but
comfortable sofa, a big chair and a tiny table. It was here Dexie made up
her housekeeping accounts, and performed such other duties as she could
bring to her snug little corner. It was the one spot in the house which she
claimed as her own.

She had no sooner seated herself to read than the sound of the door-bell
echoed through the house. It was several times repeated before Nancy
appeared to answer the summons, and Dexie's heart seemed to leap up in her
throat as she recognized Hugh's voice. But Nancy remembered the injunctions
given her, and refused admittance, saying decidedly that the family were
out; and when Hugh reminded her that Miss Dexie was at home, Nancy boldly
said that Miss Dexie was not going to be disturbed by anybody. Dexie gave a
sigh of relief as she heard the door shut and Hugh's step on the pavement
below. She turned to her book and was soon lost to all outside influences
in her sympathy for the heroine of the story, when a slight movement of the
curtain caused her to look up. The book dropped from her fingers and she
staggered to her feet, her face white, even to her lips. Terror seemed to
rob her of all power to move or speak, as she gazed into the face before
her that was almost as colorless as her own.

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