Produced by Robert Cicconetti, Josephine Paolucci and the
Online Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net.
(This file was produced from images generously made
available by the Canadian Institute for Historical
Microreproductions (www.canadiana.org))
MISS DEXIE;
A ROMANCE OF THE PROVINCES.
BY
_STANFORD EVELETH._
TORONTO:
WILLIAM BRIGGS,
WESLEY BUILDINGS.
C.W. COATES, MONTREAL, QUE. S.F. HUESTIS, HALIFAX, N.S.
1895.
Entered according to the Act of the Parliament of Canada, in the year one
thousand eight hundred and ninety-five, by WILLIAM BRIGGS,
Toronto, in the office of the Minister of Agriculture, at Ottawa.
Transcriber's Note: Minor typos have been corrected.
MISS DEXIE;
A ROMANCE OF THE PROVINCES.
INTRODUCTORY--1864 AND WAR TIME.
The war between the North and South has sent a wail of grief into thousands
of homes throughout the land, and the dreadful death-roll is daily being
added to, for battle follows battle, and the slaughter is appalling, even
to those who have been hardened to the sight by months of action. No wonder
that the faces of wives and mothers are white with anguish--that fearful
death-list has carried desolation to their hearts, and others, just as
dear, are obeying the command, "Forward to Spotsylvania."
Men stop to discuss the situation at street-corners, or hurry to the
telegraph or newspaper offices for the latest news, their anxious faces
telling how their lives have been touched by this outbreak of strife.
Among those who pass along the streets of a New England town, is one whose
genial countenance attracts attention. He is above the average height,
strong and well proportioned, and his quick and energetic step and
wide-awake appearance proclaim him of New England birth.
As he nears a house in the suburbs, a shout of welcome greets him, and he
lifts his eyes and smiles upon a group of young faces in an upper window; a
moment more and the door is thrown open, and childish forms hurl themselves
upon him.
As soon as the children's noisy greeting was over, Mr. Sherwood entered
the room where his wife awaited his appearance, and drawing a chair near
the couch where she was reclining, related the news of the day.
"Yes, I am later than usual, but I received a despatch from mother, and
that detained me," said he, in answer to her remark. "I have arranged to
run down to the farm to-morrow, as mother says my immediate presence is
necessary."
"And is there no word from Charley yet? His name is not in the list of
killed or wounded, but I fear the worst."
"His wife was at the telegraph office while I was there," said Mr.
Sherwood, as they entered the dining-room. "She expected news every hour,
and will send you word directly she gets a message. I tried to persuade her
to return with me, but she was too anxious to leave the office until she
had some reply to her despatch."
"This is a trying time for wives and sisters, and Charley was my favorite
brother. But what new trouble has happened at the farm, that you are needed
in such haste?" Mrs. Sherwood asked, as she poured out the tea.
"It seems that mother has heard that I intend joining the new company, if
it is called out, and she has objections which she wishes to make
personally. You know mother is not a Unionist; her southern prejudices are
too strong for that, and the possibility of my joining the northern army
has embittered her mind. You might come with me to-morrow; the change would
do you good," he added.
"My visits to the farm are doubtful pleasures," replied Mrs. Sherwood, who
had but little sympathy with her husband's people, "but any change will be
welcome while this uncertainty exists about my brother. Can I trust you all
to be good and obedient if I leave you in charge of Nurse Johnson?" she
asked, lifting her eyes to the young faces around the table.
The best of behavior being readily promised, Mrs. Sherwood soon left the
room to make preparations for the unexpected journey, and early next
morning Mr. Sherwood and his wife were on the train bound for Crofton, the
nearest station to the old home farm.
While they are on the way, a glance at the history of his parents will
explain how matters stand at the homestead.
Squire Sherwood was a well-to-do farmer, who was well known outside of his
own village, having held several public offices at various times, but these
had been given up in order to superintend his fine farm, which years of
toil had brought into a high state of cultivation. Early in life, while
doing business in Louisiana, he had married a southern lady; but a few
years later he came into possession of the farm, and they moved North.
His wife found the change very great, and often sighed for the luxurious
life of her southern home; but she fell into New England ways more readily
than might have been expected. When she moved north, she brought Dinah, who
was her particular property, with her; indeed, Dinah was so much attached
to her young mistress that she refused to be left behind, and life on the
farm was made more endurable by her services. When, in the course of time,
a son was born, he was placed in Dinah's care, and little Clarence was as
fond of his black nurse as was ever the southern-born child of its black
"mammy" of the southern plantation.
But Mrs. Sherwood did not lose her individuality by her marriage. The
peculiar institution of the South she would like to have seen extended to
the North as well, and when the disruption took place her sympathies were
with those of her old home; she was heart and soul a southerner. Up to this
time the same friendly feeling existed between mistress and maid as when
they had lived under a sunnier sky; but the sentiments engendered by the
hated Abolitionists, soon found vent in sharp words, and other abuses, that
hitherto the faithful creature had never known.
Dinah felt keenly the change in her mistress, but bore it patiently,
thinking it would soon pass; but village gossip soon spread the report of
Mrs. Sherwood's treatment of her black servant, and the southern
sentiments, so openly expressed, caused the family to lose the estimation
of their neighbors, and gained instead their animosity. Party feeling ran
high, and the villagers declared that if there was another draft made, the
son should be made to fight against the avowed principles of the mother,
and as the sentiments of both parties grew stronger as the war advanced, it
brought matters to a crisis.
Hence the telegram requesting the son's presence at the farm.
When the train arrived at Crofton, the carriage was waiting for the
travellers, in charge of the hired man, and they were soon driving along
the familiar road to the homestead.
"What is the matter at home, Joe?" said Mr. Sherwood. "Are all well?"
"Yes, all well, sir," and Joe touched the horse lightly with the whip; "but
the war news is troubling them, and making your mother very anxious about
you."
Joe was an old and trusted servant, having lived with the family for years,
and so much confidence was placed in him that he seemed like one of the
family. When they arrived at the farmhouse, the son wished to know at once
why he was sent for in such haste, but his father replied: "Plenty time,
Clarence, plenty time ahead of us to talk about the matter; let us have
dinner before we discuss troublesome questions."
But the mother's heart was too full of anxiety to wait, and she asked: "Is
it true, Clarence, that you are going to join the Union army?"
"Well, I am ready to do my duty, mother," he replied, in a conciliating
tone, "but I have not yet joined the company, so you need not be anxious
about me until you have cause."
"But I have cause already! I hear that another draft is soon to be made,
and the people around here are determined that you shall be drawn into the
fight, if only to spite me, but if you enter the army at all it should not
be on the Unionists' side; that would be taking up arms against your kith
and kin, and no son of mine must do that!"
A look of terror spread over the face of the son's wife. Was her husband to
be torn from her side, as the mother feared?
"I cannot argue this question with you, mother, lest we should not agree,"
said the son, gently. "It is a pity that as a family our interests are so
divided; but others have placed their interests against kith and kin, and,
if duty called, I should have to do the same. I own that at present I
shrink from the call, as the forces seem concentrated near my sister
Annie's home. I wish she would come north, but that cannot be expected
while her husband is in danger. He has command of an important position,
but Sherman is sure to dislodge him, and I fear the result will be
disastrous. But I see you have something else in your mind at present, so
what is it that you wish me to do, mother?"
"I want you to leave the country, Clarence. I cannot bear the thought of
you being drafted to fight against my home and people, and your own natural
affections should cry out against uniting with the slayers of your
kindred."
"Oh! this cruel, cruel war!" cried the son's wife. "We are indeed a divided
family, for my brother is with Sherman near Atalanta, fighting against my
husband's people. Oh! Clarence, do as your mother wishes, and let us leave
the country, for my heart will break if you are drafted!"
"You must leave at once, if at all," said the mother; "even a week's delay
may be too late, for the neighbors boast that before the month is out I
shall see my son march away to Washington! I would give every dollar we
possess to help the southern cause, if what they threaten should come to
pass!" she added, in an angry tone.
"Well, mother," replied the son with a smile, "my patrimony is too precious
to run such a risk, and as I am not very anxious to shoot anyone, or be
shot at either, I will do as you wish, and let you live in peace. I feel
confident that a few months will end the struggle, or my decision would be
different; but where do you wish me to go?"
"Go!" her countenance softening at once. "You can decide that for yourself;
as long as you are out of the reach of the Unionists, that is all I ask.
So, go to Halifax, if you like!"
"Very well, mother, to Halifax I'll go, but you do not seem to have the
welfare of your only son very much to heart, after all, by the way you
speak."
"Nonsense! Clarence, you know my heart better than that! I mean that it
matters little where you settle, so long as you are out of American
territory until the war is over."
"Oh! Halifax will suit me very well, mother. Ever since I can remember you
have threatened to send me to Halifax; so now I'll go, and I do not believe
I shall find it a place of torment either. Nelson, who was in partnership
with me when I was in Augusta, has moved his family there, and I may join
him again in business. He is buying up horses and sending them to
headquarters. What! you surely would not object to me making some money out
of the Unionists?" he asked, in answer to his mother's quick look of
surprise.
The discussion lasted some time, but to the relief of the son's wife they
decided to return home the following day, that her husband might have an
opportunity to settle his business in time to catch the first boat to
Halifax.
Becoming aware of the hostility which prevailed among the neighbors, on
account of Dinah's presence at the farmhouse, Mr. Sherwood proposed to take
her with them to Halifax as their hired nurse. He had a kindly feeling for
the good, old woman, who was such a faithful and partial nurse to him in
his boyhood, and he could not help seeing that she was less kindly treated
than formerly, and to his surprise his mother consented to the plan. Dinah
made no objection when the matter was laid before her, for like many
colored women of her age she had an intense love for children. This love
had grown stronger during the years there had been no children at the
farmhouse to lavish it upon, and the short visits that the grandchildren
made at the farm were red-letter days to Aunt Dinah.
Mrs. Sherwood found her cares much lessened with Dinah installed as nurse.
The care of children was always a wearisome burden to the rather indolent
mother, so the irksome duties were readily placed on the willing shoulders
of Dinah.
While Mrs. Sherwood awaited her husband's directions, her brother's wife
appeared one day, bearing the sad announcement that Charley had fallen in
the last battle; and though Mrs. Sherwood had been expecting this from the
first, her grief was more distressing to witness than that of the
afflicted, sad-faced wife.
But there had been no hope in Mrs. Sherwood's heart since her brother had
bidden them farewell, and marched away with his comrades; and her fears
being realized, she was more anxious than ever to leave the country that
might yet claim her husband also, and when word came from Halifax that a
furnished house awaited the family, Mrs. Sherwood easily persuaded her
bereaved sister in-law to accompany them thither.
A few weeks later, the family--consisting of Mrs. Sherwood and her
brother's childless widow; Gussie and Dexie, twin girls of sixteen; Louie,
aged thirteen, Georgie ten, Flossie three, and a year-old baby in the arms
of black Dinah--arrived in Halifax, where this story properly begins.
CHAPTER II.
The new home awaiting the family was situated in the south end of the city.
The house, which is still considered a desirable residence, was built in a
style very common in Halifax, for the accommodation of two tenants. The
owner, a Mr. Gurney, lived in one part of it; he was a native of England,
but at the solicitation of his brother, who was an officer in one of the
regiments, he had removed to Nova Scotia, and was doing a prosperous
business on Granville Street.
Mr. Gurney had a large family. Cora, the eldest, was just out of her teens;
then came Launcelot or Lancy, as he was usually called; then Elsie, and so
on, till you came to an infant in arms. As the cabs containing the Sherwood
family drove up to the house, the nursery windows in the second story of
the Gurney household were filled with childish faces, anxious to see what
sort of playmates their new neighbors might be; and when the young
strangers alighted on the sidewalk they observed the happy faces and smiled
back in return, thus pleasantly intimating that they hoped to be friends.
But when Dinah appeared with the baby, the faces in the window betrayed
their astonishment. "Oh! a black nurse! and the baby don't seem a bit
frightened of her!" they exclaimed in surprise.
"I wonder if they love her when she is so _very_ black," said little
Gracie. "I shouldn't love to kiss her, would you, Percy?" looking at their
own fair-faced nurse in loving approval.
Mrs. Sherwood was surprised to find the house so neatly and comfortably
arranged, but she soon learned that she was indebted to Mrs. Gurney for
this pleasant state of affairs, for she had given Mr. Sherwood much
material assistance in making the rooms look home-like and cheerful.
In the evening, when the family were assembled in the parlor, Mrs. Gurney
tapped lightly at the door, and her cordial greeting seemed more like that
of a friend than the first meeting of strangers, and when Mrs. Sherwood
began to thank her for the thoughtful attentions that had made their
home-coming so pleasant, she stopped her with a word.
"Do not thank me, I beg of you, Mrs. Sherwood," she said, with a smile. "I
have only done for you what I wish someone had done for me when I first
came to Halifax. I know by experience," she added, as a smile lit up her
motherly face, "what it is to come into a strange place, among strange
people, with a hundred things needing to be done at once, and a family of
children to attend to besides. I felt sure you would like the place better
if you found it a bit home-like and settled, but I have come in to explain.
I was afraid you might think I was making myself too busy in your affairs.
Now, I do hope, Mrs. Sherwood, that you will not make strangers of us after
this." Her face beamed with kindness as she spoke, and after a short and
friendly conversation she withdrew.
The next day was a busy one in the Sherwood household, but in the afternoon
the twin girls were invited to go for a walk with the young ladies next
door, while Louie was persuaded to go up to the nursery with the Gurney
children.
Louie felt very shy when she found herself among so many little strangers,
but the kind, good-natured nurse, in white cap and apron, who presided
over this restless brood, soon set her at ease by bidding the children show
Louie their toys. And what a store of them there were to be sure. There
were several miniature sets of dishes of various patterns, and whole
families of dolls, from the aged grandmother in a white frilled cap, to the
tiny china specimen that was too small to be dressed. There were Noah's
arks that held animals that would have astonished old Noah himself, and
rocking-horses in various stages of dilapidation, from the bright new one
with only a scratch on his leg, to the headless and tailless steed that
rocked in a melancholy way in the corner. Then there was a swing that hung
from the ceiling, and a springy teeter-board that could bounce the little
ones quite into the air. These and other treasures were duly inspected by
the shy Louie, who soon entered heartily into the games started for her
amusement.
The twin girls were delighted with their walk. They had viewed the city
from Citadel Hill, and had extended their walk to other spots of interest,
but it seemed to them that they had moved nearer the seat of war, instead
of away from it, for the sword and gun-bearing officers and soldiers whom
they met in different parts of the city seemed more warlike than those who
had passed through the streets of their old home, as they journeyed toward
headquarters.
In a short time the family settled down to the routine of home-life that
comes natural in all households, and having secured competent help, Mrs.
Sherwood was able to order her household without much exertion on her part;
in fact, she began to feel that she might now take life comparatively easy,
and, little by little, the duties of housekeeper were laid upon Aunt
Jennie.
Dinah found the burden and exactions of her small charges quite bearable,
so the not-over-anxious mother was relieved from trouble in that quarter
also. But Dinah seemed well satisfied. Her love for the little ones placed
under her care had been strong enough to silence the superstitious dread
that had filled her heart when she first learned the destination of the
family; but in spite of her efforts to please everyone, Dinah could not
overcome the strong dislike which Biddy openly and emphatically expressed
for all "nagers." Consequently, a wordy warfare spiced the day's doings
occasionally, but, thanks to Aunt Jennie's tact and kindness, even this
grew less and less, as occasion for them vanished.
A few weeks later, Mr. Sherwood accompanied Mr. Nelson to Prince Edward
Island, on a horse-buying expedition, but we will not follow them, as our
story has to do with those in Halifax; it is sufficient to say that they
secured a number of valuable animals for the New York market, at a price
that surprised Mr. Sherwood until he understood that the Island farmers
were ready to dispose of all products "cheap for cash."
As might be supposed, the friendly intercourse between the members of the
two families grew stronger as the taste of each became more apparent.
Dexie and Elsie were "chums" at once, though each possessed an opposite
nature; one supplied what the other lacked, so they agreed charmingly.
Gussie was older in appearance than her twin, Dexie, and preferred the
society of a "grown-up" young lady, and Cora Gurney found her a pleasant
companion.
Launcelot Gurney, or Lancy, was the musical genius of the Gurney family,
and this soon caused a feeling of friendship to spring up between him and
Dexie Sherwood, and few days passed in which they did not spend
considerable time in each other's society. But the closest observer could
find no fault with this intimacy. It sprang from the similarity of tastes,
and the frank, straightforward manner which marked their intercourse denied
the existence of any foolish sentimentality. Though younger than Cora,
Lancy seemed by his steady ways and manly behavior to be the eldest of the
family. Perhaps the fact that his father talked so much with him, and
interested him in matters that seldom claim the attention of youths of his
age, had something to do with his manner, but behind his usual calm
exterior there was an amount of conceit not always apparent to others, a
conceit that placed himself above the ordinary High School boys who had
been his daily associates. This they had felt intuitively, and with his
precise habits and nicety of dress had caused him to be dubbed "the dandy."
Another member of the Gurney household must also be mentioned, for Hugh
McNeil belonged to the family almost as much as Lancy himself, seeing that
he had been cared for by Mrs. Gurney before Lancy was born. He was the son
of a strange marriage, a marriage that had turned out disastrously. His
father had been valet to Mr. Gurney's eldest brother, and, while attending
his master in Paris, had fallen in love with a pretty French waitress, and
secretly married her. On returning to England with his master, the French
wife followed him and revealed the marriage, and this so enraged McNeil's
master that he discharged him on the spot. Whereupon McNeil, after securing
a comfortable lodging for his wife, left for Australia, intending to send
for her as soon as he obtained permanent employment. Before he had done so,
the French wife died in giving birth to little Hugh; and the matter coming
to the knowledge of Mrs. Gurney, she had pitied the motherless babe and had
him placed in a comfortable home. As he grew older, Mrs. Gurney became so
fond of her young protégé that he was taken into the family, and was given
an education that enabled him, in later years, to be of much service to his
benefactors.
In looks he favored both parents, inheriting the strong, sturdy frame of
his Scotch father, with the dark features and piercing black eyes of his
mother. At present, he occupied the position of clerk or general factotum
to Mr. Gurney; his quickness and ability to grasp the requirements of
business, with the general activity of his movements, made him invaluable,
and Mr. Gurney trusted him like a son. Amongst other duties, Hugh
frequently attended auction sales, to watch for bargains in their line of
business, and it was at one of these sales that Mrs. Sherwood met him. She
had accompanied Mrs. Nelson to a sale of bankrupt stock, and wishing to
secure some desired articles she asked Hugh's assistance, and he served her
so well that he was asked to call, and he was received so graciously by
more than one member of the family that the call was often repeated, and he
soon had the "freedom of the house," as Dexie laughingly expressed it.
The English custom of playing at charades or tableaux, was much in vogue
in the Gurney household, and on rainy days the children were sure to be
found in the attic, where a mimic stage had been erected, and drop curtains
of a peculiar style and pattern added to the attractions of the place. The
young neighbors next door were soon initiated into the mysteries of the
"green room," and their added numbers made the audience seem immense, since
it took every available box and board to construct "opera chairs" for the
crowd; but every chair was sure to be filled when the new "star," Signora
Dexina, was announced to appear before the footlights, and if these latter
were but candles left from the last Christmas tree, what mattered it?
One day while up in the attic rehearsing a new piece, the idea occurred to
them that a private entrance into each other's apartments, by way of the
attic, would be a great convenience, so they eagerly searched the partition
for a loose board. Finding one that was quite broad, they put forth every
exertion, and after much shoving and prying, during which their fingers
received many splinters and bruises, they succeeded in getting the board
loose from the floor. By shoving it aside, they could squeeze through the
opening into the opposite attic, then the board would swing back to its old
position.
The "convenience" of this private entrance only children could explain, as
it seemed hardly worth the exertion to climb three pair of stairs for the
pleasure of entering the house of their next-door neighbor by this narrow
doorway, but the children were delighted with it. In after-years others,
long past childhood, did not scruple to use this doorway, and silently
bless the hands that formed it.
The good old custom of family worship was daily practised in the Gurney
household, and appearing suddenly in the dining-room one morning, just as
the family were about to "take books," Dexie stayed to prayers, and was so
impressed with the charm and simplicity of the devotions, that she asked
permission to come again.
The exercises consisted of reading, verse about, a portion of Scripture,
then a verse or two of some well-known hymn was sung, after which Mr.
Gurney made a short prayer, using simple words within the comprehension of
the little ones. Special mention was made of the needs of the family. If
any of them were ill, they were mentioned by name, and it gave Dexie a
curious feeling the first time she knelt with the family to hear Mr. Gurney
ask for a "particular blessing to rest on our young neighbor, who worships
with us this morning." The charm of it all seemed to be in the feeling of
reality there was about it, the decorous behavior of the little ones
showing that it meant more than outside form to them. None of the Gurney
family was excused from this morning worship unless sickness made it
impossible to appear, and it soon became a regular thing for Dexie Sherwood
to make her appearance with her Bible when the bell rang for prayers. Dexie
thoroughly enjoyed these exercises, her religious education having been
limited to the little she had learned in Sunday School, for the Bible was
not a very well read book in the Sherwood household, and its treasures were
almost unknown, until they were opened to her eyes by the Gurneys.
Aunt Jennie was much surprised when she learned the cause of Dexie's
frequent morning visits next door. The evident desire for instruction which
made her niece seek from others what should have been imparted to her at
home, came like a reproach to her heart. She had been reared in a Christian
home, where Bible truths had been imparted to her from her cradle up, so
she now endeavored to supply what was lacking in the religious education of
her young relatives. It was done quietly and without ostentation, but the
last half hour of the day was given to Dexie, and she spent it with her
aunt in the privacy of her chamber, where they studied the Book together.
Dexie tried to persuade Gussie to join these readings, but with no success,
for Gussie, like many others, "cared for none of these things."