AUTHOR'S STORY
Reader, Guy Thornton was not a fool, and Daisy was not a fool, though I
admit they have thus far appeared to disadvantage. Both had made a great
mistake; Guy in marrying a child whose mind was unformed, and Daisy in
marrying at all, when her whole nature was in revolt against matrimony.
But married they are, and Guy has failed and Daisy is going home, and
the New Year's morning, when she was to have received Guy's gift of the
phaeton and ponies, found her at the little cottage in Indianapolis,
where she at once resumed all the old indolent habits of her girlhood,
and was happier than she had been since leaving home as a bride.
On the father, Mr. McDonald, the news of his son-in-law's failure fell
like a thunderbolt and affected him more than it did Daisy. Shrewd,
ambitious, and scheming, he had for years planned for his daughter a
moneyed marriage, and now she was returned upon his hands for an
indefinite time, with her naturally luxurious tastes intensified by
recent indulgence, and her husband a ruined man. It was not a pleasant
picture to contemplate, and Mr. McDonald's face was cloudy and
thoughtful for many days until a letter from Tom turned his thoughts
into a new channel and sent him with fresh avidity to certain points of
law with which he had of late years been familiar. If there was one part
of his profession in which he excelled more than another it was in the
divorce cases which had made Indiana so notorious. Squire McDonald, as
he was called, was well known to that class of people who, utterly
ignoring God's command, seek to free themselves from the bonds which
once were so pleasant to wear, and now, as he sat alone in his office
with Tom's letter in his hand, and read how rapidly that young man was
getting rich, there came into his mind a plan, the very thought of which
would have made Guy Thornton shudder with horror and disgust.
Daisy had not been altogether satisfied with her brief married life, and
it would be very easy to make her more dissatisfied, especially as the
home to which she would return must necessarily be very different from
Elmwood, Tom was destined to be a millionaire. There was no doubt of
that, and once in the family he could be molded and managed as the wily
McDonald had never been able to mold or manage Guy. But everything
pertaining to Tom must be kept carefully out of sight, for the man knew
his daughter would never lend herself to such a diabolical scheme as
that which he was revolving, and which he at once put in progress,
managing so adroitly that before Daisy was at all aware of what she was
doing, she found herself the heroine of a divorce suit, founded really
upon nothing but a general dissatisfaction with married life and a wish
to be free from it. Something there was about incompatibility of
temperament and uncongeniality, and all that kind of thing which wicked
men and women parade before the world when weary of the tie which God
has distinctly said shall not be torn asunder.
It is not our intention to follow the suit through any of its details,
and we shall only say that it progressed rapidly, while poor,
unsuspicious Guy was working hard to retrieve in some way his lost
fortune, and to fit up a pleasant home for the childish wife who was
drifting away from him. He had missed her so much at first, even while
he felt it a relief to have her gone just when his business matters
needed all his time and thought.
It was some comfort, too, to write to her, but not much to receive her
letters, for Daisy did not excel in epistolary composition, and after a
few weeks her letters were short and far apart, and, as Guy thought,
constrained and studied in their tone, and when, after she had been
absent from him for three months or more his longing to see her was so
great that he decided upon a visit of a few days to the West, and
apprised her of his intention, asking if she would be glad to see him.
He received in reply a telegram from Mr. McDonald telling him to defer
his journey, as Daisy was visiting some friends and would be absent for
an indefinite length of time. There was but one more letter from her and
that was dated at Vincennes, and merely said that she was well, and Guy
must not feel anxious about her or take the trouble to come to see her,
as she knew how valuable his time must be and would far rather he should
devote himself to his business than bother about her. The letter was
signed, "Hastily, Daisy," and Guy read it over many times with a pang in
his heart he could not define.
But he had no suspicion of the terrible blow in store for him, and went
on planning for her comfort just the same; and when at last Elmwood was
sold and he could no longer stay there, he hired a more expensive house
than he could afford, because he thought Daisy would like it better, and
then, with his sister Fan, set himself to the pleasant task of fitting
it up for Daisy. There was a blue room with a bay window just as there
had been in Elmwood, only it was not so pretentious and large. But it
was very pleasant and had a door opening out upon what Guy meant should
be a flower garden in the summer, and though he missed his little wife
sadly and longed so much at times for a sight of her beautiful face and
the sound of her sweet voice, he put all thought of himself aside and
said he would not bring her back until the May flowers were in blossom
and the young grass bright and green by the blue room door.
"She will have a better impression of her new home then," he said to
Fan; "and I want her to be happy here and not feel the change too
keenly."
Julia Hamilton chanced those days to be in town, and as she was very
intimate with Miss Thornton the two were a great deal together, and it
thus came about that Julia was often at the brown cottage and helped to
settle the blue room for Daisy.
"If it were only you who was to occupy it," Frances said to her one
morning when they had been reading together for an hour or more in the
room they both thought so pleasant. "I like Daisy, but somehow she seems
so far from me. Why, there's not a sentiment in common between us."
Then, as if sorry for having said so much, she spoke of Daisy's
marvelous beauty and winning ways, and hoped Julia would know and love
her ere long, and possibly do her good.
It so happened that Guy was sometimes present at these readings,
enjoying them so much that there insensibly crept into his heart a wish
that Daisy was more like the Boston girl whom he had mentally termed
strong-minded.
"And in time, perhaps, she may be," he thought. "I mean to have Julia
here a great deal next summer, and with two such women for companions as
Julia and Fan, Daisy cannot help but improve."
And so at last, when the house was settled and the early spring flowers
were in bloom, Guy started westward for his wife. He had not seen her
now for months, and it was more than two weeks since he had heard from
her, and his heart beat high with joyful anticipation as he thought just
how she would look when she came to him, shyly and coyly, as she always
did, with that droop in her eyelids and that pink flush in her cheeks.
He would chide her a little at first, he said, for having been so poor a
correspondent, especially of late, and after that he would love her so
much, and shield her so tenderly from every want or care, that she
should never feel the difference in his fortune.
Poor Guy--he little dreamed what was in store for him just inside the
door where he stood ringing one morning early in May, and which, when at
last it was opened, shut in a very different man from the one who went
through it three hours later, benumbed and half-crazed with bewilderment
and surprise.