Stanford Eveleth - Miss Dexie

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She had barely time to lock the door when Gussie came towards it.

"Open this door at once," she said, as she found it locked. "Mamma says you
are to go to the kitchen and finish the work, and if you make any more fuss
about it you will be sorry for it."

No answer, for Dexie had swiftly turned the contents of her trunk out on
the floor, in one promiscuous heap, and was repacking it with a swift and
practised hand.

"Do you hear what I say, Dexter, or shall I repeat it?"

"I have resigned my place in the kitchen, Gussie," came the reply, "and do
not intend to enter it again; besides, I have accepted a better situation
since I saw you downstairs. I am packing my trunk to leave the house, so
you see I cannot be disturbed."

Gussie stood dumb with astonishment at this unexpected announcement, but of
course it could not be true!

"Oh! never mind your high tragedy airs just now; open the door at once."

"I fancy that the tragedy part of this performance will be enacted by
yourself, Gussie," was the reply. "I shall not open the door till I get my
clothes packed; if you choose to wait till I am done, pray do so. I will
not be any longer than I can help, as I intend to take the first train for
the city."

Gussie applied her eye to the keyhole, and the limited view she had of the
room was enough to convince her that Dexie was certainly packing her trunk,
and she flew to her mother's room with the news.

Mrs. Sherwood could not believe it. Leave the house just when they needed
her the most! Impossible! She sent Gussie back to the door with a
peremptory message for Dexie to come to her room immediately.

"Tell mamma I will be there in a few minutes. I am almost through packing,
and if I were you, Gussie, I would go at once and see if that Robinson girl
will come and stay with you till the new cook arrives; and do have a care
how you speak to her, for mamma's sake. Do not imagine that something will
happen to prevent me going away, for that is a settled fact!"

Gussie hastened back to her mother in alarm.

"She is really going, mamma, and says she won't come out of her room until
she gets her trunk packed. Oh! what shall we do with no one in the house to
do a thing for us! I did not mean to vex her when I spoke to her as I did,"
bursting into tears.

"So it is your fault that, she is going! Are my troubles not heavy enough
that you drive the only help I have away from me? What will become of us if
Dexie leaves us, for you are as useless as you are extravagant!" And the
mother scolded and complained as if Gussie alone were responsible for the
trouble. "Go at once and make some amends for your ill-tempered words," she
added, "and perhaps Dexie will overlook it, for my sake."

Gussie returned to the closed door, and in contrite tones begged for
admittance.

"Do let me come in, Dexie. I am sorry I vexed you, and you are not in
earnest about going away, surely, for you know we cannot spare you."

Dexie threw open the door, saying: "Come in and judge for yourself, Gussie.
You see I really am going," she said, snapping the catch of her travelling
bag. "If my sudden departure puts the rest of the family to inconvenience,
you can blame yourself for it, Gussie; but you are just as strong as I am,
and should be able to fill my place. However, if you think yourself above
being useful, I hope you will not delay in getting someone else here, for
you know you could not have driven me out at a more inconvenient time, for
there is literally nothing cooked in the house."

"But where are you going? Not to auntie's with Louie, surely?"

"No. I should not like auntie to have a worse opinion of you than she has
already. In leaving home I am consulting my own happiness, and I am going
where I shall be kindly treated and warmly welcomed."

"Well, I'm sorry now I said anything to vex you, Dexie; so you need not go,
after all."

"Your repentance comes too late, Gussie, for my plans are made; but I do
not want to go away with any ill-feelings to any one, so here is my hand,
Gussie."

"Oh, if you are really going, I'll not shake hands and make up with you! If
we only had some help in the house I would be glad to get rid of you. I
don't believe mamma will let you go, anyway," and with a toss of her head
she left the room, saying to herself: "She'll have to unpack her things
when mamma gets hold of her, so why need I humble myself to her."

Dexie was soon in her mother's room, listening to the reproaches that were
heaped upon her without stint; but as no reply was given to them, Mrs.
Sherwood looked at her intently, and something in the mother's heart
brought to her attention the wan, white face of her daughter. She had not
noticed that Dexie looked so worn and thin, and for a moment her heart
smote her.

"What is this I hear, Dexie?" she said at last. "Do you think I am going to
allow you to leave the house like this? You are forgetting that you are
still under my authority."

"But you do not use your authority fairly, mamma. You have made my life
very hard and unhappy since papa died, and permit Gussie to be impudent to
me, even when I am doing everything for her comfort. I would have stayed a
few weeks longer, but Gussie has gone too far and made it impossible for me
to stay another day, so I am going away to be married."

"Married! Dexie, are you crazy?"

"No, I think no one else will think so, when they know that I am exchanging
my present life for one so much happier."

"But, Dexie, I will not allow this! To be married in such haste, and away
from home, without any preparations whatever! I forbid you to leave the
house with such an absurd intention."

"I am sorry to have to deliberately disobey you, mamma, but I have passed
my word and have no wish to take it back. I admit it would have given me
much happiness to have been married from home, but it is doubtful if I
could live long enough to _earn_ a wedding, so it is best as it is."

"And you talk of being married, and your father not dead three months yet!
Oh! you heartless girl! And you pretended to care so much for him! You
shall not do this shameful thing! Fancy how people would talk!"

Dexie burst into tears at the mention of her father, and turning to leave
the room, she heard Guy's voice in the hall below.

"Are you nearly ready, my darling?" as she ran down the stairs to meet
him.

"All ready, but mamma is not going to let me go without some trouble, Guy."

"Take me to her at once, dear, and do not be alarmed. She will not forbid
our marriage, so dry those pretty eyes."

Mrs. Sherwood found she could not talk to this stern-faced man as she did
to Dexie. She felt embarrassed at his replies to her many objections, and
the truths that Guy put so plainly she could neither deny nor refute.

"It was Mr. Sherwood's wish that our marriage should not be delayed," was
his answer to this objection, "and according to Dexie's wishes it will be
strictly private. As to the unkind remarks which you fear will be made
about our rather hasty marriage, I will take it upon myself to silence
them, directly they reach my ears, by explaining Dexie's unpleasant
position at home since she has been without her father's protection."

Mrs. Sherwood saw it was the best policy to give her sanction to the
marriage, seeing she had no power to prevent it; but when she offered,
after some hesitation, to give Dexie a sum of money to provide her with an
outfit, Guy refused to allow Dexie to accept it.

"It is no matter, mamma," Dexie said through her tears, for the interview
had been most distressing. "Papa gave me the money he received from his
published sketches, so I will do very well."

Mrs. Sherwood did not care to ask what the sum amounted to; but having a
poor opinion of her husband's literary efforts, she considered that it
could not be much.

"I hope you will not regret this hasty step, Dexie," as Dexie came to her
side to wish her good-bye. "You cannot expect me to think kindly of you
when you leave me in such a way as this."

"Well, mamma, you know I am obliged to seek the protection of a husband
that has been denied me as a daughter; I hope you will not miss me very
much. Will you not kiss me good-bye?"

Her mother turned her cheek, but Dexie waited in vain for the kind parting
word she longed for.

"I am sorry to leave you, mamma. Think kindly of me sometimes. Guy takes me
because he thinks I need his love and care."

"Go to him, then! You have made your choice!"

With this dismissal, Dexie hurried to the hall where Guy was awaiting her,
wiping her eyes as she went.

"Well, for my part, I'm glad to see the last of you," said Gussie,
following slowly after her sister. "You have always stood in my way, and
your Puritanical notions have spoiled many pleasures for me; so whatever
tears _I_ shed will be tears of joy."

"Thank you, Gussie; that speech is all that is needed to remove every
vestige of regret I may have felt at leaving home," was Dexie's reply, an
unusual light in her dark eyes. "Come, Guy, I am quite ready," and without
turning her head she passed out the door of her own home to the untried
future that she was to share with Guy Traverse.

"My heart aches for you, my darling," and Guy pressed the hand that rested
on his arm. "Let Gussie shed her tears of joy while she can, for, if I am
not mistaken, they will flow for another cause before the week is out."

CHAPTER XLIV.

A kinder welcome could not be imagined than Dexie received from Guy's
sister when they arrived in Boston, for Mrs. Graham had heard so much of
Guy's "little girl" that she took Dexie to her heart at once.

The mental disquietude and physical weariness that she had passed through
kept Dexie confined to her room for two days, but on the morning of her
third day in Boston she stepped out the church-door a willing, happy bride.

"Really, I can hardly believe that I have been turned into a married woman
since I entered the church," she said softly, as Guy seated her in the
carriage. "Does it seem real to you, Guy?"

"Well, hardly, dearest; but I am going to prove the reality of it, and use
the authority just granted to me, by insisting that you put aside the
thoughts that have made your face so sad. Let us think of the new, happy
life before us, and forget the trials we have passed through. We are going
to be very happy together, my little wife."

"Yes, I am sure of that. I believe our quiet and unconventional wedding
will bring us quite as much happiness as if we had been married with all
the fuss that generally attends affairs of this kind."

(They were driving back to Mrs. Graham's, where a few friends had been
invited to meet them before they left for a short trip.)

"Yes, indeed," was the reply; "and I think we will enjoy it in a greater
degree than if we were surrounded by a crowd of distracting friends, though
I believe it is usually considered the one time in a person's life when
friends are most appreciated. Why it should be so I cannot see, if all love
is like ours. I have obtained my heart's desire at last. This happy day has
been long delayed, but is none the less dear for the waiting, and you can
never say again that you feel 'alone' in the world."

Dexie gave him a grateful look, as there was no time for words before the
carriage stopped at Mrs. Graham's hospitable doorway, where smiling faces
awaited them. Kisses and congratulations were not wanting, and the few
friends who had accompanied them to church followed them into the house. A
few hours later the happy married pair left for New York, where they spent
a pleasant season viewing the sights of the metropolis.

On returning to Boston, Guy was offered a position in a large
establishment, the headquarters of the firm, doing business in Lennoxville,
in which he was previously engaged. This arrangement proved agreeable to
all parties, and made it unnecessary for Dexie to return to the scene of
her former trials.

Dexie soon found herself mistress of a charming little house, situated in
one of Boston's beautiful suburbs, where her windows looked out on a lovely
prospect. Here the time flew by so rapidly in caring for her dainty rooms
and blossoming borders that her thoughts seldom dwelt on the unhappy weeks
which preceded her marriage.

It was a delightful surprise when the dear old piano came with the rest of
her belongings from home, but the grateful letter of thanks which Mrs.
Sherwood received was tossed aside without a word, though the letter had
not failed to touch the mother's heart.

The piano had been a silent rebuke, and Mrs. Sherwood had been pleased to
remove it out of her sight, wishing in her heart that the memories which
troubled her could be as easily banished.

But no other piano could have been half so dear to the heart of Dexie, and
when she sat down before her beloved instrument the first chords she struck
brought happy tears. It was like the greeting of a dear friend long absent.
Little wonder her fingers lingered lovingly over the keys as piece followed
piece.

"Dexie," said Guy, coming over to her side and leaning one arm on the
piano, "do you remember playing for your father and me one evening and
refusing us a certain piece? I have often wondered at the reason of that
refusal. May I ask if you will play it for me now, darling?"

Dexie dropped her hands into her lap and lifted a flushed face to her
husband's gaze.

"Dear Guy, I wish you had not asked me, for I do not think I can."

"What! not for me!" said he, laughing. "Not for your own husband! Come now,
Dexie, have I found a cause to be jealous already?"

Dexie's arms were around his neck in a moment.

"Do not say such words, dearest, not even in jest; you do not know how it
hurts me. Do you think I would have refused to play that piece for papa for
a slight reason, Guy?"

"No, but tell me the reason, wifie. Come, no secrets from your hubby,
mind," looking into her eyes with a teasing glance. "You know you told me
you only played it when you were sentimentally inclined, and you must only
be 'sentimentally inclined' in my direction now, so what is the secret?"
kissing the lips so temptingly near.

"You are welcome to the secret, dearest, if I can put it into words, but
not to the music, I fear, unless you will stand where I shall not see that
you are watching me. There are some things hard to explain, and the effect
of that piece of music upon me is one of them. Had I played it for papa,
it would have grieved instead of pleased him, for it generally makes me
cry; though why it has such power over me I do not quite understand. I have
only played it before one person, and he understood it; so I did not mind."

"Now you have made me more curious than ever, little wife. You have played
it for one person, and that person a gentleman, and yet you cannot play it
for me. Now, Dexie, how could you break my heart by such a confession!"
said he, laughing.

"It was only Lancy Gurney, so don't be foolish," leaning her head
confidingly on his shoulder.

"_Only_ Lancy Gurney! Worse and worse!" laughing gaily, as he held up her
face to meet his gaze. "Don't tell me you are 'sentimentally inclined' in
_his_ direction yet, or I shall do something desperate."

"How can I tell you about it, if you laugh? I am afraid you will not
understand it, if you look at it seriously!"

"Well, try me, anyway," and he drew her on to his knee.

"I fear it needs a musician's heart to understand it. I do not mean that
the piece is so very difficult, but it has such strange, peculiar chords,
which sound so exquisitely sweet, that it makes the tears come, no matter
how hard I try to repress them. It affected Lancy the same way, so I did
not mind playing it before him, but you see I could not give any reasonable
explanation for my tears had I played it for you at papa's request."

"Say no more, little wife. I'll not tease you about it again; but let me
confess a little sin. I listened to you one night through the open window
when you were playing that piece, and I saw you in tears, too, but I did
not rightly guess the cause of them."

"But I have not told you all yet! What will you say when I tell you that I
gave Lancy Gurney one promise which I have not been able to break!
Possibly, Lancy and I _were_ 'sentimentally inclined' when he exacted it of
me, but we agreed not to play that piece for other people, and I doubt if
he finds that promise any easier to break than I do, for he would not care
to let others see his emotion. I have often wondered what was in the heart
of the composer, for it touches my heart like no other piece of music has
power to do. I fear I have not made it very plain to you, dear, but I wish
you understood it as Lancy did."

"Little wife, I believe you care for him yet," lifting her face and kissing
her lips.

"Yes, of course I do, but not as I care for you. It is only the musical
corner of my heart that he has touched, for apart from music I never give
him a thought. My love for you is different; it seems to fill my life."

"You shall not find me exacting, dearest. Lancy is quite welcome to that
musical corner, while I have such a heart full of love for my own. I would
not have spoken about that music had I known what it was to you. I will
remember after this," he added, smiling, "that it is 'sacred to the memory
of--Lancy Gurney,' and I am quite willing to have it so," and he drew her
close to his side.

"It is kind of you, dear, to respect this, my one bit of private property.
I could never tell you what that music has been to me, for though it brings
tears to my eyes it has the power to comfort. It seems to soothe and
sympathize with me in my little troubles, and during that unhappy time
after papa died I do not know what I should have done without the piano to
talk to; it seemed the only bit of comfort left to me."

Guy raised the drooping head, and gazing tenderly into her tear-filled eyes
said, gently:

"Dearest love! I do not believe that I half know you yet! There seem depths
in your nature that I have never reached, and thoughts in your heart that I
have never shared; they are so far above me. Trust me as far as you will,
darling, and do not think that I wish you to break a promise that seems
more sacred than sentimental," and he drew her to his heart again.

A few days later Guy brought home a thick letter to Dexie bearing the
postmark of Halifax, and as Dexie read it a troubled look spread over her
face, but she said nothing until the lamp had been lit and the curtains
drawn; then she drew close to her husband's side, saying:

"Elsie has sent me very unpleasant news, dear."

"Then I wish she had not written; I do not like to see my little wife look
sad over anything. May I know what it is, dear? but do not tell me if you
had rather not, Dexie," and he drew her down to his knee.

"I do not think Elsie knew that her news would trouble me, for she seldom
sees beneath the surface of things. My marriage has given her mother a
great deal of trouble, and as she is the dearest little woman that I ever
knew, I feel very sorry."

"For your marriage or the 'little woman'?"

"What a tease you are!" joining in his laugh. "But there is a ludicrous
side to Elsie's story, too, though it is the unpleasant part of it that
strikes me first. Do you remember the threat that Hugh McNeil made when we
told him we were going to be married? Well, he has carried it out, and has
married Nina Gordon, my double, that I told you about. Oh, it is a shame! a
cruel shame! What a life she will lead with that passionate man, with no
love between them to soften his feelings! Hugh could never listen to her
patiently five minutes at a time; that is why he said he wished she was
dumb! Oh, Guy! I feel so grieved. She is so sensitive at heart, for all her
silliness, while Hugh is hasty and hot-tempered. How cruel of him to spoil
her life, if he only married her for the chance resemblance to me, and it
would be just like Hugh to tell her of it in one of his outbursts of
temper. It has made me feel so unhappy that I could not finish my letter; I
feel as if I were to blame in some way."

"Do not feel so troubled about it, my little wife; perhaps she will so
improve under Hugh's tuition that she will be glad that her chance likeness
was the means of making her his wife. I have often wondered, Dexie, how you
refused him yourself. He seemed so persistent it is a wonder that he did
not take you from me," drawing her closer to his side. "He seemed to have
every quality that women most admire in a man."

"Well, I did admire him--at a distance--a _long_ distance, you know," she
laughingly answered, "but directly we were near enough to talk to each
other, we were sure to disagree. What a charming married couple we would
have made!" and both laughed at the mental picture. "Poor Nina! she has not
the spirit to stand the first unkind word. I do hope Hugh will not be rough
with her."

"I have a better opinion of Hugh McNeil than to think he will be rough with
his own wife. From what I saw of him I rather admired him, and I hope he
will be happy in his married life."

"I hope so, too, but--I fear for Nina. Let me read Elsie's letter to you,
and you will understand the situation, for she is such an innocent little
kitten that she has disclosed more than she is aware of":

"I cannot call you by your new name yet, but I hope you will not mind, for
you will always be just 'Dexie' to me. I know that I ought to begin my
letter with best wishes and congratulations, but I cannot do it honestly,
so it would not be honor bright. Your marriage has made such a disturbance
here that I do not know what to think, only that I am sure you are not to
blame for it; so I wish you to know the story, even though Cora often says,
'I hope Dexie will never hear about this.'

"When I received the papers you sent me containing the announcement of your
marriage, I, very naturally, read it out for the benefit of the rest in the
room, never thinking I was doing anything out of the way; but that horrid
Hugh McNeil was present, and before I had quite finished reading it he
jumped to his feet and glared at me till I screamed with fright. Then he
snatched the paper from me, and tore it in a thousand pieces, and stamped
and stormed about the room till I felt sure he was crazy, then I ran from
the room in terror. Then, as if that were not enough, Cora followed me out
and said she had a good mind to box my ears for reading it out before Hugh,
and yet I am quite sure that she likes you as much as ever. Well, we had an
awful time with Hugh that night. He attempted to shoot himself, and mother
cried and father scolded, and Lancy had to come and watch him till
daylight. We were getting over our scare, and I was beginning to think it
was a 'temporary fit of insanity,' as Cora said, when we were startled by
another fit that is anything but 'temporary' this time, for Hugh asked papa
to rent him the other half of the house where you lived, stating that he
was going to be married immediately! Of course we wanted to know the name
of the lady, and you can imagine our surprise and dismay when he said it
was Nina Gordon. We all felt badly about it, for no one can imagine for a
minute that he cares for her. As soon as he had rented the house he started
off to Montreal, taking Mrs. Gordon and her daughter with him, and he
returned about a fortnight ago, bringing Nina as his wife. Mrs. Gordon is
to live in Montreal, and however Nina will manage without her mother at her
elbow, is what puzzles everybody.

"I did not see Mrs. McNeil till a few days ago, for I was huffy at Hugh and
would not be friendly with his wife; but when I did call I got such a
surprise that for a few minutes I stood still in astonishment, for, if you
will believe me, Dexie, they have got the house fixed up just as it used to
look when you lived there--the same pattern of carpets and curtains, the
pictures on the wall seem to be the very same, even to 'George Washington'
that you used to make fun of. A piano occupies the same spot, and in the
midst of it all there sat Nina with one of your pretty dresses on. Well, I
suppose, the dress _was_ her own, but I cannot understand how she happened
to get it made so much like yours. Of course I made remarks, how could I
help it when everything was so much like old times! but, in the most
unexpected moment, in came Hugh, and the way he went on at me was something
fearful! I am sure I never hinted that he had not a right to furnish his
house to suit himself, but when I went home he followed me and had a long
talk to mother about me. Nasty thing, that he is! and now I am forbidden to
mention to anyone the astonishing resemblances that I see next door. They
have sent me to my room for an hour because I _looked_ surprised at a
remarkable thing, so I thought I would sit down and tell you how badly I am
treated, for I am snubbed at every turn, and no one likes to be continually
snubbed.

"We like Lancy's wife very much, though she is different from what we
expected. It is quite plain that she is very much in love with Lancy, so he
ought to be pleased. I suppose it will not be 'the correct thing,' as Nina
says, if I tell you why we felt so disappointed over his marriage, but we
all expected his wife would be the dear girl we used to know and love. I
often think that Lancy misses her, for his wife is not a bit musical; but
everything is contrary here. There! I am called, and my hour is not yet up,
so that's odd, too."

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