BLONDINE COMES OUT VICTORIOUS.
"He who builds according to every man's advice will have a crooked
house."
--Danish Proverb.
"Now uncle Dick, you promised, you know you did, and I will be so
disappointed if you don't." Blondine's pretty red lips are curled up in
a naughty pout, and her red cheeks are two or three degrees redder than
their wont.
"People have said I could find a nicer, prettier place, and, my dear, I
intend to settle this matter myself," decidedly.
"All right, uncle Dick, if you do not you will be sorry, now mind."
Blondine takes her place at the foot of the long table, and makes much
unnecessary clatter among the fragile cups and saucers. Uncle Dick goes
on calmly eating his tapioca pudding; he enjoys exciting Blondine's
anger, but this time he wants her to understand that he knows his own
business best. He thinks that at his time of life he knows where to or
where not to build a house for the summer. Blondine, during her visit to
Dolores, had found the most delightful spot, to her mind, for them to
settle on; but some one had told uncle Dick that the place was the
dullest hole he ever had occasion to poke his nose into. And if there
was anything uncle Dick hated, it was a place where there was not
something always on the move, to enliven things up once in a while.
Blondine toys with her napkin ring; she is too cross to finish her
dinner; sometimes uncle Dick tries to see just how horrid he can act.
"Sir Barry Traleigh is in the drawing-room, shall I show him in here
sir?" the servant announces at Major Gray's elbow.
"To be sure, to be sure; fetch him in," and Blondine looks up to see Sir
Barry's pleasant face entering the door.
"Now, Sir Barry, won't you try to induce uncle Dick to do as I say? You
have been there, and is it not delightful?" Sir Barry strokes his silky
moustache in his lazy way, and contemplates Miss Gray for a few moments
in silence.
"Traleigh knows next to nothing about it at all, so how can he tell?"
uncle Dick puts in hastily. He is afraid if Blondine secures Sir Barry
for her side, the case will go rather hard against him.
"Excuse me, Major Gray, but I do know something about it, and if you
will permit me to express my opinion, I should say you could not do
better than acquiesce to Miss Gray's wishes." Blondine claps her hands.
"Now then, uncle Dick, what do you think of that?" she cries,
delightedly.
"Two against one is not fair," uncle Dick says, in a tone intended to be
argumentative.
"Say it shall be as I wish," Blondine demands, holding the Major's face
between her hands.
"We will see; perhaps after I smoke my cigar, I will think it over," and
Blondine knows that the victory is almost won.
"I had a long letter this morning from Dolores," Blondine says, as she
and Sir Barry go out on the south balcony. "They are so glad their
father has come home, and all that affair cleared up to every one's
satisfaction."
Major Gray is off, down in the garden, wending his footsteps in and out
among the late autumn flowers.
"Were you ever through the convent of St. Marguerite, Miss Gray?" Sir
Barry asks, suddenly.
"No. I never have been, but Dolores, in her letter to me, spoke of one
of the sisters there, who was treated disgracefully by the man Fanchon,
who caused Mr. Litchfield so much trouble." Blondine is very much
interested.
"You saw her, Sir Barry; is she very pretty?"
Sir Barry puts his hands in his pockets, and whistles. Blondine looks
surprised.
"Will you go through with me next Thursday? I believe that is the
visitor's day? Perhaps I can introduce you to Sister Jean; that is the
girl's name Miss Litchfield referred to."
Blondine declares herself delighted to go. Then out there where the
glimmering sunshine turns everything into a golden hue, with the flowers
nodding their bright, cheerful heads, Sir Barry tells the girl by his
side something, which causes Miss Gray to open her large brown eyes in
bewildered astonishment.
"Why, I can scarcely credit it," Blondine says, when she has recovered
the use of her tongue.
"If you agree with my impression, we will see what can be done. You are
the only one I have said anything to about it."
Blondine would like to tell uncle Dick, but the dear old major could
never, to save his life, keep a secret five minutes, so it was decided
better not to tell him.
Thursday afternoon, Sir Barry and his pretty companion wend their steps
toward the convent. One of the sisters, whose duty it was to show
strangers around, informs them at once, that Sister Jean is well, but
has gone out to the prison, where she goes twice a week to sit with one
of the prisoners. Sir Barry and Blondine exchange glances, they both
understand who "the prisoner" is, whom forgiving Jantie goes to visit
when everyone else has forsaken him.
"What pretty flowers," Blondine exclaims, going over to a space in the
hall, divided off by a little wicker railing. Sir Barry slowly follows.
"Are they not arranged beautifully?" she asks, turning to Sir Barry.
Coming down the long corridor, on her way to the school-room, is Mother
St. Marguerite; she smiles her gentle, pleasant smile, when she sees the
visitors; she always welcomes everyone with that grave, tender glance.
"Merciful heavens! the very image; of course you were right; how very
wonderful," gasps Blondine. Sir Barry looks pleased.
"Then you and I agree on that point?" he asks, bowing to the sister who
politely conducts them to the outer door.
"Agree with you! why no one could have the least doubt. The features,
why her movements, smile, all are the same." Blondine declares she has
never been so worked up in all her life before as she has been this
afternoon.
"I must certainly tell uncle Dick," she says, decidedly, and Sir Barry
consents.
At the end of the month, Cyril Fanchon dies, a very remorseful death;
business men were sorry he did not live to bear the punishment he so
richly deserved. But he was bidden to answer before a more powerful
Judge than any on earth. About six weeks previous to his death, Sister
Jean had heard they could find no one to sit at night with him, so she
begged Mother St. Marguerite to allow her to take the night-watch by
Cyril Fanchon. The mother knew it could not be for long, so she
consented. Now her mission was over at the jail; she had kept her watch
faithfully, she had nothing to regret. The girl looks white and
miserable, after her long night vigil. Surely she has had her revenge
doubly. But revenge is the last thing the gentle, faithful woman thinks
of; far be it from her desire to have her worst enemy suffer.
There has been an application at the convent for one of the sisters to
go to the country to take charge of a sick child for a few weeks. Mother
St. Marguerite determines that Sister Jean shall be the one to go.
"The country air will brace you up for your duties here, when you
return," were the Mother Superior's parting words, as she kissed the
sweet face, and bade her bear up.
* * * * *
The gas and pretty wax candles are lighted, throwing a pleasant, soft
radiance over Major Gray's daintily furnished drawing-room. It was
rather chilly, and near tea-time; Blondine has ordered a fire to be lit
in the white marble fire-place.
"Well, well, to be sure; of course I never heard the full particulars of
the story, but of course Traleigh may be mistaken after all, and then
you would both feel pretty foolish; but what does he purpose doing?"
Major Gray inquires, helplessly.
"Oh, uncle Dick, certainly Sir Barry knows what he is about. I had not
the slightest doubt, nor have I now, as far as the likeness goes.
And--and--why he will fix it up all right." Pretty, stately Blondine
sinks in her low chair of plush and satin, with an air of perfect faith
in Sir Barry's mode of unveiling this little mystery, which has caused
so much excitement among those three persons. The Major gently rubs one
slippered foot over the other, and watches Blondine thread her needle
with yellow floss. It is very evident he has something to say, that he
finds rather difficult to express.
"My dear," he says, toying with his spectacle case, "I had the papers
drawn up this afternoon, and the architect engaged, and they intend
commencing work on the new house immediately."
Blondine lays down her fancy work, and looks at Major Gray.
"Where?" she asks.
"I have Traleigh's word for it, that the place you spoke of could not
answer better."
"You dear, you gem of a man, I knew you would change your mind and do as
I asked you to."
"There, there, my dear, that will do," gasps uncle Dick, as two fond
arms are twisted about his neck.
"Get me my shoes, my dear; I have to go to see a man about, about--ah,
some business," the Major declares.
Blondine runs up-stairs, singing, to get a letter for uncle Dick to put
in the post-office for--well, perhaps it would do no one any good to
know to whom that dainty little letter was addressed.