_CROSS PURPOSES._
Affairs had moved along very rapidly during the last few days on Pierre
Island. It had become the field, and Marie the focal point, of interest
in the lives of Grace Gaston and Frank Winslow. This common interest
brought them together in the interchange of thought as to her future and
in union of purpose for her benefit. She had become their protégé, and
they both gave her their care and protection.
At Bluff Castle, or out under the trees at the point of the island that
gave the best view of the country, they often conferred with Pierre
concerning the question of Marie's future. These self-imposed duties and
the arranging of all their plans were productive of pleasant moments for
them all. It threw Winslow much into the society of Miss Gaston, which
he valued more and more as the days passed which would separate him
altogether from his friends. His admiration for her did not lessen as he
found each day of their fuller acquaintance some new quality of her
personality. Perfectly at ease under almost all circumstances, she did
not obtrude herself upon him, so that he could only judge of her as
chance opened to his view some new phase of her character.
The old Acadian himself was much gratified with the interest his friends
evinced in his daughter and himself, and it brought a new hope and
solace to his saddened life.
Marie had become almost the constant companion of Miss Gaston during the
few weeks she had spent away from Blomidon. She was never without her on
her walks about the shores of the island or mainland. Often Winslow
accompanied them, but never did he find Miss Gaston alone. He sometimes
wondered at this, but as Marie went among them as a quiet spirit,
without intrusion, ever welcomed by them all, no restraint was ever put
upon their conversation by her presence. Moreover, he as a man was
outspoken, and while ever calm and deliberate in his manner, imparted a
fearless and decided tone to each act of his life. What he had to do he
did at once, and was not easily turned aside. He became a lover in his
own peculiar way, and as he strengthened as a lover he did not weaken as
a man. It was not in his nature to do so. A strength and fineness of
soul lay beneath it all, but he unwittingly deceived himself and he
deceived others. Recognizing the force of character in Miss Gaston, he
was drawn to her by every responsive sensibility of his being. He saw
her often. He had every opportunity to realize what she was in herself
and in her relations with others. Only one sentiment she did not share
with him. Her womanly nature treasured it as its own, and in this one
thing their friendship had been of too short duration for him to
discover it from her own lips, and there was no other way by which it
might be known, unless chance had revealed it. This chance did not
occur, at least for some days after their stay, and then too late for
the avoidance of that turn in the state of affairs which left for Miss
Gaston the only unhappiness of her visit to Nova Scotia. It might be
said that it was one of the regrets of her lifetime. She had found in
Winslow a man of that quality which unites him to a woman of high nature
in lasting affection. Such experiences are rare in practical life, but
they have a force and quality which is only next to love in the highest
sense between man and woman.
Without a father, she had come to Acadia with the Forests, and had been
accompanied by Mr. Sternly during a part of their trip. This young man,
one of the rising artists of the day, was yet in the early stages of his
advancement, and while success was certain, he needed yet some years of
study and labor to give him the prominence which his talents promised.
Not as yet engaged, he and Miss Gaston were accepted lovers. She lived
in his ultimate success, and had accepted him as the choice of her heart
without binding him or herself to any future relationship till he had
given to the world the highest type of success, and crowned his labors
with the purest and loftiest ideal of artistic development. She had
entered with him into this great hope. She had stimulated him with the
influence of her ambition for him and the strength of her love as well.
Between them existed the purest form of that love which crowns and
glorifies all earthly labor. It was not a theme for the comment of
others.
"Our protégé has been the means of making us better acquainted, Mr.
Winslow," said Miss Gaston, during one of their walks, after they had
been arranging some plans, as usual, for Marie and Pierre. "Mrs. Forest
and her daughter are pleased that we were so fortunate."
"It has been fortunate for me, rather, in that I have found such good
friends. I much regret that I must leave here so soon."
"We also regret it. The people staying at the hotel are hoping to
arrange for an excursion to Grand-Pré, and Mrs. Forest told me she hoped
it would come off before you went away."
Marie was with them, and they wandered towards the Blue Vein, enjoying
to the fullest extent the lovely day and the soft breeze from the
outgoing tide. They had turned among the huge masses of rock at the rear
of the island. Marie, silent as was her wont while in the presence of
Winslow, moved along with them, or stopped to examine some object that
caught her attention as they walked. She had dropped behind them now,
and Miss Gaston, turning to him, said:
"Now that it is all arranged for Marie to make her home with us, I am
sure that you will do your duty by her and come to see her often. It
will be a guarantee that you shall not neglect your other friends, for
the Forests are often with us."
"I must go to Marie's home to see you," said Winslow, turning upon her
with a strange look in his eyes, and a deeper and lower tone in his
voice. "Miss Gaston, as I leave here so soon I esteem this opportunity a
great privilege."
She started as if she had received a blow, and in an instant she
realized the meaning of the situation. A painful light broke in upon
her. She feared to let him go on and she hesitated before she should
fully understand him. But there was no mistaking his voice and the look
on his face. The strong man's soul was on his lips, and the influence of
his strength was on her heart and moved her beyond the possibility of a
doubt.
"Oh, Mr. Winslow," she cried, in a voice full of pain, "I fear I have
been terribly mistaken. And I fear I have unwittingly deceived you."
"Then do not let us misunderstand each other any longer, Miss Gaston. I
must tell you that I hoped much from this friendship, so suddenly--and I
thought so happily--come to us. Do not, I beg of you, mistake my
interest in Marie, and my affection for her father."
"Forgive me, Mr. Winslow," she said, with tears in her eyes, "this is a
sadness for me. I was surely, surely blind."
Winslow looked at her long with pale face, and saw that to say more was
to add still greater pain to her grief. He realized his position, and
with effort kept himself in hand.
"Pardon me if I return," he said, hurriedly, as he heard Marie's steps
approaching them again. He turned away, and caught for an instant the
full look of Marie's eyes as he hurried past her. In another instant he
was out of sight, and the two women met. Marie saw the tears and
agitation of Miss Gaston, and as she came near her friend she was
clasped in a moment about the neck, and found her own tears falling,
called forth by the silent grief of the older woman.
"Oh, Marie," she said, at last, "I have been injuring you, and I have
injured Mr. Winslow. But not for a moment did I think of all this that
has occurred."
"You could not injure me or him, Grace," answered Marie, still held by
her friend.
"Marie, I shall never forgive myself till you both have forgiven me."
"I forgive you now, and Mr. Winslow forgives you, too," said Marie,
smiling in her tears.
It was some time before they returned from the beach. They were both
silent, and holding each other's hand, and by the sudden stroke of
chance bound still more closely together, the one by sympathy and love,
the other by the added quality of a heart filled with the deep desire of
doing reparation for a great injury.
Miss Gaston looked upon her coming to Pierre Island as a great
misfortune, and her staying there after the development of the first
events and the condition of things which she should have been cognizant
of, the greatest blunder of her life. From what Winslow had said of the
Pierres she had at once inferred that Marie held first place in his
affections. She believed him capable of any disinterested action for the
advantage of another, yet she looked upon his relation with the Acadian
family as having a deeper meaning than that which was now disclosed. In
this she had been deceived, and it had led to such consequences as to
bind her to the end of restoring the original condition of affairs as
far as in her power lay. How much she would do to see her friends as
they were before she came into their lives. With the instinct of a
woman, and with that insight peculiar to herself, she had found in Marie
such qualities as had pleased her, and had satisfied her as to Winslow's
choice. In doing for Marie she felt that she was aiding Winslow as well,
and from this double service she had derived a great deal of
satisfaction and pleasure.
The intense feeling of regret and sorrow would often quite overcome her
as she walked back towards the ford with Marie, and the tears often came
to her eyes as she reflected on the possible consequences of her
intervention. She feared that it might be even more serious than the
strong nature of her friend promised.
With these feelings, and with an occasional overpowering emotion which
affected Marie as well, they now came in sight of the ford, and the
appearance of the Forests on the other side, and their signals of
welcome caused her to put a strong restraint upon her feelings. They
were soon able to converse across the channel which rippled out softly
and laid bare the higher stones of the ford.
Miss Forest was in the greatest good humor. She said at once, when her
friend came within speaking distance:
"It is all arranged, Grace. We go in the morning."
"To Grand-Pré?"
"Yes."
"Marie," she continued, "you and your father and Suzanne must come with
us. We have arranged for everything, and you must come."
Miss Gaston left Marie with a few kind words, and as the tide had
fallen, she stepped over the rocks of the ford and joined her friends.
Marie passed up the steep road to Bluff House still oppressed with the
grief that had called forth her sympathy with Miss Gaston. From the
summit Winslow himself, seated alone, looked down upon the scene
presented to his view, and gave himself up for the time to the emotions
which his experience of the afternoon left him. He recalled the whole
incident, and for the first time he found that the child woman had in
some mysterious way been the cause of all his present unhappiness. He
recalled what Miss Gaston had said in regard to Marie and himself, and
he wondered how it was possible for her to suppose him occupying the
position she had assumed for him in the life of the Acadian maiden. He
saw Miss Gaston going up the beach towards the mainland, and as her form
grew smaller and at last was lost to view in the road which turned along
the side of the hill, he looked at Marie coming nearer and nearer as she
ascended with slow steps the island road. Her form stood out with bolder
lines, and her large eyes and beautiful face had taken a new quality in
his eyes. He found himself thinking about her as a woman, not as a
child, as he had done previously. The influence of Miss Gaston on him
was already at work, and in the confusion of his thoughts he did not
fail to realize that from that day the two women who had so much to do
with his destiny had suddenly fallen from the position he had falsely
placed them in, and had by a rapid turn of affairs assumed the place
they rightly belonged to, and which also changed considerably his own
position in regard to them.