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Stanford Eveleth - Miss Dexie

S >> Stanford Eveleth >> Miss Dexie




Dexie's ring aroused considerable discussion among her friends, and it only
made it seem more complicated when Gussie declared to a friend that she
believed "Dexie had that ring before she left Halifax, but never wore it."

But it was her sign of freedom, and its glitter and sparkle was like the
light of her own eyes when they rested upon it. She was afraid that her
secret, that sweet secret of her own, might be surprised from her. Not for
worlds would she have _that_ person know that her heart had awakened at
last. With that ring on her finger, who could charge her with caring for
anyone but the giver?

Guy Traverse thought he had every reason to feel sad and gloomy. How was it
that he ever supposed she cared for him, for now she was as reserved and
cool when in his society as she had before been frank and pleasant, and, of
course, that ring was responsible for the change.

Gussie took the opportunity of relating to Guy, as well as to others, many
an interesting story concerning Dexie and her Halifax lover, but she
neglected to add that most of her stories were creations of her own brain.
Guy felt little interest in these stories. He felt that there was
something going on that he did not understand, but he intended to ask an
explanation from Dexie at his first opportunity, feeling quite sure she
would own the truth to him.

But the opportunity did not present itself readily, and even Mr. Sherwood
felt the change and wondered what had come between Dexie and his friend. He
tried to seek into the trouble, but could find no explanation of it.

Mr. Sherwood was able now to be lifted to a wheeled chair or couch, and as
he could be gently wheeled from room to room, he found the change quite
agreeable. The time did not seem so long as when he was confined within
four walls.

There were times when Dexie thought her father might be spared for years
instead of months, but when one of his attacks of pain seized him such
hopes as suddenly sank away. His mind was more free from care, since his
lawyer, Mr. Hackett, had brought his business matters to a satisfactory
state; but his visits to the house were always times of trial. Mrs.
Sherwood would listen to no explanations that would bring to her mind the
thought of her husband's decease. But someone had to stand in the gap, and,
as usual, it was Dexie; she it was to whom Mr. Hackett explained the many
papers and the various transactions to which their contents related.

"What is the matter between you and Traverse, Dexie?" said Mr. Sherwood one
day, as Dexie sat by his side, writing at his dictation. "Never mind about
that story now; I have forgotten how I intended to end the matter. Tell me
what has happened between you two."

"Indeed, papa, there is nothing. Mr. Traverse has probably something else
to take up his attention, and he has been away to New York, I hear, so I
daresay he is too busy to drop in as often as he used to do. Never mind
him; it is a pity not to complete this story when it is so nearly finished.
Let me read what I have written down, then perhaps you will remember what
you were going to do with this singular young lady."

"Oh, no! Put the thing out of sight! I'm sick and tired of her already. I
miss Traverse, Dexie, and if you have had a quarrel, make it up for my
sake. He brings a world of sunshine with him when he comes."

"We have not quarrelled, papa; that is not the reason he has not been in.
But I will tell Gussie to ask him to come in to-night; she will see him at
the T. and B. rooms."

"Why can't you ask him yourself, Dexie? Queer that he has not been in
lately! There was never a day but he would run in for a few minutes during
some part of it; so ask him yourself to come in and see me."

"I am not going out to-night, papa dear, but I will write him a note, if
you say so," and she drew some tiny sheets from among the scattered MS.
that filled the desk.

"Do so, then, and tell him to come in as early as he can."

"There, how will that do, papa?" and she passed the few lines for his
inspection.

"Well, it couldn't be said in fewer words; that's a fact," he said, looking
at her curiously. "Look here, Dexie, out with it. What has happened to you?
Don't try to hide it; for I'm not stone-blind yet," and he pinched her pink
ear, and pulled her face around to look into it. "What has come over you
lately? Some new experience, I am quite sure. Matters are not as they used
to be. I have noticed the change in you for some time. You go whistling
through the house as happy as a bird, and your face is as bright as a new
button. Surely it cannot be because Traverse does not visit us so often?
Yet, I notice if anyone speaks to you about him, you get as 'mum' as you
please. Come, you used to tell me all your little secrets, you know. What's
up, Dexie?"

"Dear papa, I don't know what to tell you," and she stooped and kissed his
cheek. "You may look at things differently than I do, and news which may be
pleasant to me may seem very strange to you."

"Then there is news of some kind, after all? Well, let us have it. I want
to hear the news, good, bad or indifferent. I will try to believe it is
_good_ news, since it has such a happy effect on yourself," and he looked
up at the bright face that was bending over his chair. "Well, you know,
there was a sort of promise between Lancy and me; but I am free from it.
Our last letters have been sent and received, and by and by he is going to
take an English lassie home as his wife."

"You don't say so, and you find it a source of rejoicing! Well, you are a
queer girl, sure enough. Gussie would say you have been jilted."

"But I have not, because it was I who asked to be released from the
promise. If you knew what good friends Lancy and I still remain, you would
not fancy I feel jilted."

"Well, I'm blest if I see the point yet," and he looked at Dexie keenly.

"Please, papa, do not look for it," was the laughing reply; "for if there
be any point to this story, it is not visible to the naked eye, and I doubt
if you could discern it with a microscope itself. But, papa, I do not want
this spoken about yet--Lancy's approaching marriage, I mean. I would never
hear the last of it if Gussie got hold of it, and there is a reason why I
want everyone to suppose that everything is as it used to be."

"Well, you can trust me, little girl; but I say again, I cannot see the
point."

"And I hope you will not get particularly sharp-sighted all at once,
either, papa," she replied, shaking her finger at him; "so don't you go
spying into my little affairs, until I give you liberty. Dear papa, there
is nothing to tell; when there is, you shall hear it the first thing," and
she stooped again and kissed his cheek.

"But why does not Traverse come here as usual, Dexie?" he asked.

"Perhaps he will tell you if you ask him, papa," and hearing her mother
call, she left the room.

During the afternoon, a little note found its way into Guy Traverse's hand;
but the smallest word from the hand that penned those lines was very dear,
and he raised it to his lips, then put it in a hidden corner of his
pocket-book.

Guy felt that he was indeed welcome when he made his appearance in Mr.
Sherwood's room that evening, for Mr. Sherwood received him with such
expressions of pleasure that it needed but the quick, bright glance that
Dexie gave him to assure him that his presence was welcome to both.

"You have been busy, Traverse. What is going on at your establishment these
days?" Mr. Sherwood asked, as Dexie left the room to fetch the chess-board.

"Oh! nothing more than usual. We have a good many orders in, and I have
been away to New York on business for the firm; but I was only away a week.
Your old firm has a new manager. Quite a step up for Rushton, isn't it? I
am pleased at his promotion, for he deserved it."

"Yes; he was not expecting it either. He called to see me, and I was well
pleased to hear he had stepped into my place. Now, Traverse, play your
best, and see if you can beat me to-night," as Dexie laid the board and
chess men in order by her father's side.

Mr. Sherwood soon became so engrossed in his favorite pastime, that he
failed to notice that the poor play of his opponent was due to the fact
that his attention was so taken up with watching Dexie that only a part of
his thoughts were given to the game.

"Traverse, I don't believe you are half playing," said Mr. Sherwood, as he
removed a captured knight from the board.

"Well, you 'most always beat me, you know, Mr. Sherwood, though not often
so badly, I confess," was the smiling reply.

"Well, don't be so easily conquered this time, Traverse, or I shall begin
to think you have something on your mind."

Guy laughed and promised better play in the future, and as Dexie was called
from the room he redeemed his character and won the next game, and during
the few minutes' chat that followed Guy sought for information concerning
Dexie's supposed engagement.

Mr. Sherwood did not see the drift of his remarks until Guy asked:

"There is a rumor that Miss Dexie expects to be married shortly. You will
miss her very much if the rumor is correct."

"Oh! rumor has it that way, has it? Well, this time Dame Rumor is just a
little astray. Strange how things do get twisted round!"

"Are you quite sure there is no foundation for the rumor, Mr. Sherwood?"
and Guy held his chessman poised in the air while he waited the answer.

"Oh, well, there are some facts to start from, certainly; yet I do not see
how the news could have got abroad. I feel quite sure Dexie never told
anyone about it, and the matter is not known to anyone else in the house,
except myself. She does not care to have the matter spoken of just at
present, lest it be misconstrued."

"Then where is rumor wrong, if I may ask?"

"Well, Traverse, I promised not to speak of it, but I do not think she will
mind if I tell you."

Mr. Sherwood did not notice how eagerly Guy waited for the next words, for
he was studying his next move and seemed to have forgotten what he was
about to communicate.

"If Miss Dexie does not wish the matter spoken of, you may rely on my
discretion," Guy remarked, as a reminder.

"To be sure; well, the fact is, she has broken off the engagement, if there
was any, between herself and that young Englishman. I daresay you may have
heard us speaking of him, and he is soon to be married to a lady from his
own country; that leaves her free, contrary to Dame Rumor."

"Is it possible! And Miss Dexie--"

"Is as happy as a lark; do not extend your sympathy, Traverse, or you will
find it much misplaced."

If Dexie had guessed that the very one she had hoped to keep in ignorance
was the first one to be told the facts of the case, she would never have
parted with her _news_, even to her father.

Guy's heart bounded with hope and joy as he heard it, yet his happiness was
still overshadowed by the thought of that ring. There was something more
yet to learn.

"I expect the rumor of her engagement is due to the fact that she wears a
beautiful ring lately, the ring and the rumor go together, I expect," and
he looked keenly into Mr. Sherwood's face, as if to read any unexpressed
thoughts on the matter.

"Oh! she wears a new ring, does she? That's nothing, Traverse; most young
ladies are fond of jewelry, you know. There is nothing in it, depend upon
it, for if the ring had come from the other one I would have known it at
once--there! lost again, Traverse; I don't believe you are in a playing
humor to-night."

"Is there anyone likely to come between Miss Dexie and this young
Englishman, anyone who may have sent her the ring, Mr. Sherwood? You spoke
just now as if there was."

"Well, there _is_ one who would like to bestow his hand and fortune on her,
but she will have none of it; surely it can't be that she has changed her
mind, after all," and Mr. Sherwood laid down his chessman to consider this
new phase of the question. Could it be that the ring was from Hugh, and she
not tell of it? The game lost its interest with this new thought, and
hearing the sound of the piano through the walls, he said:

"Suppose you wheel me into the sitting-room; I hear Dexie at the piano."

The music suddenly ceased as the door opened, and Guy pushed Mr. Sherwood's
couch into the room.

"It is too bad to waste that sweet music on bare walls, Miss Dexie," said
Guy smiling, "so I have brought an audience. Go on with what you were
playing; the little I heard was very beautiful, so do not let us interrupt
you. I am told that I am not a very good judge of music, but I know that
the piece you were just playing was something finer than most piano
pieces," for he had recognized it as the same piece she had played when he
had listened through the window, and it had ended in tears.

Guy came over to the piano, and leaning his elbow on the cover, watched her
hands as they flew over the keys, and there was a puzzled look in his eyes
as he asked as she finished:

"Is that what you were playing just before we came in, Miss Dexie?"

"No; but do you not think it is a very pretty thing?"

"Oh, yes, very nice; but--"

"Well, here is a new song just out, and if you do not think it is beautiful
I will agree at once with the one who told you that you were not a good
judge of music," and her clear voice sounded through the room.

"Yes, that is very fine, Miss Dexie. The words are almost too pathetic, or
else you make them sound that way. But let us have the first piece; there
is something peculiar in it, I fancy," and he picked up some sheet music
from the stand and began to look it over.

"Hand it over, if you think you have found it, Mr. Traverse. I will play
anything you choose from that untidy mass," and there was an amused look in
her eyes as she watched the search. He was not likely to find what he
wanted amongst those promiscuous sheets.

"But I do not know it when I see it, Miss Dexie," he replied. "I am sure
you know what piece it is I refer to."

Dexie laughed at his bewildered expression; but as he looked at her, she
said in a low tone:

"Yes, I know what you mean, Mr. Traverse, but I do not play that piece for
everybody."

"Not for me, Miss Dexie?"

"No."

"What's all this about a piece of music, Dexie? I didn't come here to hear
you two quarrelling," and her father smiled over at them. "Let us have the
piece you were playing first, Dexie. It sounded fairly well, the little I
heard of it."

"Choose something else, papa. Shall I play your favorite?" and she struck a
few chords.

"No, not that! What is the reason you can't play the one I ask for?"

"That piece of music is only for one pair of ears, and they are not yours,
papa, nor do they belong to Mr. Traverse. Name something else."

Her father, looked at her in surprise, and then laughed.

"You have raised my curiosity, Dexie. You will surely play it for me when I
ask you?" "No, papa; it is sacred to the memory of someone else."

"But what if I command you to do so?"

"You will not do that, papa dear, I know," and she looked over with a world
of entreaty in her eyes.

"Well, well, has it come to this!" he said, with a soft laugh. "Did I ever
expect to hear Dexie say such a thing to me! See how badly I am used,
Traverse; she actually refuses to obey me, knowing very well I cannot
punish her for disobedience. Well, well! who would think it of Dexie?"

"Perhaps it is one of her own compositions that she is trying to keep
hidden under a bushel, as it were," said Guy, with a sudden inspiration.

"Oh, now you are wrong! and, to prove it, you shall be made to listen to
one of my very own pieces as a punishment," and she turned again to the
piano.

"Dexie, is that your own?" when the last chords had died away.

"Yes, papa, all mine, and I have a verse or two composed to suit the music;
so be careful, or I'll inflict them upon you as well."

"Now, gentlemen," she added, "what else shall I favor you
with--instrumental music, or songs, ballads, whistling choruses, or what? I
await your orders. I have an extensive repertoire from which you may
select," and her fingers passed softly over the keys as she smilingly
waited.

"Then it is no use to ask for that one piece, Miss Dexie?" Guy said, in a
low voice.

"No, sir, not at all! I only play that when--well, when I am sentimentally
inclined, you know. Did I not say it was sacred to someone else?" and she
lifted a saucy face to Guy's gaze.

Then without a moment's pause Dexie began to sing, and she soon charmed
away the frown that had gathered over Guy's face on hearing her frank
admission. He stood and watched her as she sang, feeling that she had the
power to make or mar his life.

"Now, papa, you have heard quite enough, I am sure," she said, at last,
going over to his side. "You are looking tired."

"There! that is just the way I am served. Directly I am beginning to enjoy
myself, my pleasures are nipped in the bud;" then changing his tone, he
added, "Yes, dear child, I do feel a little weary. If Traverse will be kind
enough to wheel me back to my room, I guess I will let Jarvis put me to
bed; I hear her rummaging about looking for me now," and he smiled as he
drew her face down and kissed it.

"Dear papa, I wish it was in your power to escape her search."

Mr. Sherwood understood the wish, and pressed her hand in reply.

Mr. Traverse was soon back by Dexie's side, watching the hands that were
evoking such sweet strains, but she seemed hardly aware of his presence
until he said, in a low tone:

"Remembering what you told me, Miss Dexie, I was not surprised to hear that
you were shortly to be married. May I know the truth from your own lips,
Miss Dexie?"

"I do not know why the report, true or otherwise, should trouble any
person, Mr. Traverse," and she stooped to pick up some scattered music, and
hide her face at the same time.

"It is more to me than you think, Miss Dexie. If you will admit that the
report is true, I will not trouble you with further questions; but I
understand, from what your father said, that the rumor is not correct."

"Papa had no right to tell you anything, Mr. Traverse, but I fancy you are
not much the wiser for any information he may have given you."

Her blushing cheeks and downcast eyes did certainly convey the impression
that her father was not aware how matters stood, so he replied:

"No, I am not much wiser, I must admit, for I cannot make what he told me
agree with that engagement ring."

"Do all rings have that significance? Gussie frequently wears several
without implicating any gentleman," smiling.

"Dexie, you do not know how much this means to me, and I do not know if I
have a right to explain. When I remember how much you told me the night
that Gussie read your letter, I do not see why you should hesitate to tell
me the rest now."

"What was it that papa told you, Mr. Traverse?" Dexie asked, in a low tone.

"Only that you were free. Yet how can I believe that, with this ring on
your finger denying the fact, and that music has some connection with the
past, that touches your heart, or why is it sacred to one person alone. I
do not understand it, Dexie."

"And I do not expect or desire you to understand it, Mr. Traverse," came
the hesitating reply, as Guy awaited her answer. "I could not explain about
the music, even to papa, but the ring does not tell the story you are
thinking of."

"Well, if I may not hear the music, may I know the story of this?" and he
took the hand that wore the ring in his own.

Dexie slipped the ring from her finger and held it towards him. "Oh! what a
great fire a little ring has kindled!" said she, smiling.

Guy took the ring in his hand, and noticed the words engraved inside,
"Freedom and friendship," with the letters L. and D. in monogram.

"That may mean more than the words imply, and be but a part of what the
music signifies after all. I am only too willing to believe in the motto
engraved here, but I hope the word 'friendship' is called by its right
name. Perhaps the writer of that letter has touched your heart at last,
Dexie?" he added, looking intently into her blushing face.

"No! oh, no! The ring did not come from him, Mr. Traverse."

"My thoughts have not been pleasant to me since my eyes rested upon this,
and heard the rumor connected with it. Dexie, be honest with me and tell me
what it means."

Dexie slipped the ring back on her finger, and shook her head.

"It has been discussed enough, Mr. Traverse, please say no more about it,"
she said, shrinking away from the eager, searching looks that made every
moment more embarrassing to her.

"Just a moment, Dexie! Your father said that you asked Mr. Gurney to
release you from any promise between you. When speaking of him that
evening, you told me that you never had met anyone that you liked better.
Tell me, Dexie, have you met anyone _since_ then, that you asked to be
free?" and he bent nearer and looked intently into her face.

Why had he put such a question to her? If she said "No," it would imply
that she still cared for one that was betrothed to another; but she could
not say "Yes," for that might betray her secret.

Guy's face was very near her own, as she answered with a beating heart:

"You have no right to put such a question to me, Mr. Traverse, and please
to remember that I am 'Dexie' to no man but papa," and there was a touch of
anger in her tone, to which, however, Guy gave no heed.

"Excuse me, Miss Dexie, if I have offended you," and a bright smile lit up
his face. "I _had_ no right to ask that question, but I shall endeavor to
find it out all the same," a glow of satisfaction filling his heart.

Gussie entered at this moment and Dexie escaped to her room, but Guy did
not think his case quite hopeless as he walked home, thinking it over.

"I believe she does care for me; but shall I ever be able to make her
confess it? She must know how I love her. However, I feel free to go to the
house as usual, and I may not, after all, repeat the moth-and-candle story,
as I feared."

But try as he would, he could not break through the reserve that now
surrounded Dexie like a mantle. She welcomed him with the fewest possible
words when he called on Mr. Sherwood, and she seemed so cool and stiff that
he felt chilled to the heart. It was seldom, indeed, that she addressed a
remark to him during an evening. Yet there were times when, suddenly
turning his eyes in her direction, he would find her looking at him so
intently that his heart would throb with hope and gladness, only to be
chilled again at the first word that fell from her lips. For weeks this
battle with hope and fear went on, and their friendly intercourse seemed to
have come to an end. Her visits to the T. and B. rooms were fewer than
ever, and the hour for choir practice was so often changed that he found it
almost impossible to see her a moment alone. His visits to the house gave
him little pleasure. Mr. Sherwood always brightened up when he arrived, and
but for the pleasure these visits gave to the sick man Guy would have
hesitated about making them at all.

One evening as he entered the parlor he found the family assembled and busy
over various trifles: Gussie, with a basket of colored wools, was picking
out some needed shade; Mrs. Sherwood was by the fire with some fleecy
knitting work in her hands, while Flossie sat at her feet intent on fitting
a brilliant dress on her newest doll.

Traverse stood in the doorway looking at the family group for some moments
until Dexie, who was reading the evening paper to her father, lifted her
eyes and acknowledged his presence with a bow. She perused the paper
silently, while her father and Mr. Traverse entered into a discussion
concerning certain charges made in it against one of the public officers of
the State, and at her father's request Dexie read again the article that
had called forth the discussion.

When she had finished she lifted her eyes, and a wave of color spread to
her very brow as she met Guy's earnest gaze. If there was more animation in
the remarks that followed, Mr. Sherwood did not guess the cause of the
change.

Wishing for a certain volume that had reference to the matter, Dexie rose
to get it from the bookcase, but not finding it readily Traverse came over
to assist her. The search went on in silence for some time, when Guy said
in a low tone:

"Is there any quarrel between us, Miss Dexie, that we so seldom speak to
each other?"

"Not that I know of, Mr. Traverse," Dexie replied, dropping her eyes to the
lowest shelf.

"Then, why are you so silent when I am near? We used to be good friends,
but now you cut me to the heart by your cold looks and cruel speeches. What
has come between us?"

"Nothing that I know of, Mr. Traverse, and if my words and looks do not
please you there is a way to keep out of the reach of both."

"You are an enigma hard to solve, Miss Dexie," was the smiling reply; "but
I intend to find the solution, and until then you will not find it easy to
drive me away."

"As you please," and catching sight of the book she was looking for, she
turned hastily from him and seated herself by her father's side.

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