The first day of April dawned brightly. The warm rays of the sun seemed
doubly welcome after the cold, stormy weather of the previous month, and
the streets were filled with people, who were out enjoying the sunshine
regardless of the mud that covered their feet at every step.
But Nova Scotians are a courageous people the whole country over, as
witness the intrepidity with which they walk to and fro, year after year,
through mud that seems in some places almost bottomless; for, strange
though it may seem to outsiders, who cannot expect to learn the secrets of
the learned road commissioners, the more time and money spent on a road the
softer and muddier it seems to become.
It is a fact that can be vouched for by many responsible persons, that
once, while a poor man was walking along one of the country roads in early
spring, he sank so deep in the mire that, on putting forth his strength to
lift his leg, he pulled it apart above the knee, leaving the lower half
sticking in the mud! Fortunately he was carrying a strong cane, and by
leaning upon it he managed to keep upright until help arrived, when he was
rescued from his perilous position. After much difficulty, the imbedded
limb was extracted from the mud, and safely fastened again in its place--it
was made of wood!
But, leaving facts for fiction, let us step into the Sherwood household,
and we will find Mr. Sherwood busy preparing for another trip to Prince
Edward Island.
Mr. Plaisted had arrived from New York a few weeks previously, and was to
accompany him, though the departure of this gentleman would cause no
regrets in the household, for his true nature had been revealed during his
stay amongst them. His bland and courteous manner was not inborn--it had
but a surface character; and if "to know a man you must live in the house
with him," then it took but a short time to become thoroughly acquainted
with Mr. Plaisted. If he had not been so puffed up with conceit, he would
have felt the altered atmosphere around him; but he was not sensitive--not
in the least--and he could stand an unlimited amount of snubbing without
being touched. His familiarity had indeed "bred contempt," and the hope of
his speedy departure alone kept back the threatened storm. Even Nancy in
the kitchen had been heard to say that, "if the scented dandy didn't kape
out ov her kitchen wid his imperdent speeches, she would give him wan blow
wid her fist that would spoil his beauty for him," and threatened to "give
warnin'" if the mistress did not keep him to his own quarters.
Mrs. Sherwood was more than satisfied to leave all unpleasant things for
Aunt Jennie to settle. It was quite convenient to be an "invalid" when
there was trouble below stairs, and it required more than a hint to make
Plaisted see that he was transgressing all rules of hospitality. When Mr.
Sherwood announced that the Straits were opened, and they would leave at
once to catch the first boat, they were all willing to "speed the parting
guest," even though he would take Mr. Sherwood away with him also.
Strange though it may seem, Gussie was the only one who saw no fault to
find in Mr. Plaisted. He was too free with his compliments to be anything
but pleasant company to her. She was willing enough to listen to his soft
speeches, for in her eyes he was a hero of romance, and the warning words
and admonitions of Aunt Jennie only served to exalt him higher in her
estimation.
Dexie treated him with such frigid politeness that he did not care to meet
her cold stare more often than necessary; so, when he sought Gussie's
society, Mr. Sherwood or Aunt Jennie were the only ones likely to interrupt
the _tete-a-tete_.
But things were not always to run so smoothly for Mr. Plaisted, and this
first day of April brought such discomfiture that his fastidious feelings
were very much upset. About noon, when the streets were thronged with
pedestrians returning from work or school to the mid-day meal, Dexie
noticed Mr. Plaisted sauntering toward the house, twirling his light cane
and looking as if he thought himself the pink of perfection. But what was
it that was fluttering in the breeze behind him? Some urchin--exasperated,
no doubt, by Plaisted's immaculate appearance--had fastened to his
coat-tails a bunch of dirty rags, and as Dexie watched him from the window,
she was convulsed with laughter as she saw him lift his hat and bow
profoundly to the two Desbrasy girls on the opposite sidewalk, who
immediately pulled out their handkerchiefs and applied them to their
faces; but he walked on, unconscious of the diversion he was causing to the
passers-by. As he came into the house, Dexie struck an attitude, and
exclaimed, in a tragic voice, "I could a tale unfold!"
Plaisted stood in the doorway, and looked at her in amazement.
"Dexie, don't be a fool," said Gussie, looking up from her wools, and
frowning at her sister's strange behavior.
"No, Gussie; I don't intend even to _try_ and be one, for when Mr. Plaisted
assumes that character, no one else has a possible chance either as court
fool or April fool."
Plaisted was too surprised to speak, and Dexie took no heed to his
darkening brow, but continued, "So _you_ have been studying Shakespeare,
and this is a practical illustration, I presume; or possibly you are posing
as a disciple of Darwin, and, to prove his theory, have unfolded your tail
to the public gaze. I have often wondered what it was you needed to make
you a perfect specimen of what Nature intended you to be." Then, catching
his arm, she turned him about that Gussie might see, adding, "He is quite
complete now, Gussie--see! This is a specimen of the species known as the
'missing link.'"
"For goodness' sake! how long have you been carrying that?" cried Gussie,
quite horrified at the sight.
Plaisted turned his head, and understood at a glance the meaning of Dexie's
words. Then, angrily grasping the cause of offence, he endeavored to remove
it, till an ominous sound of tearing cloth caused him to desist.
"Take it off! take it off! You, Dexter!" he cried, backing around to her.
"Take off that trash, I say!"
But that word "Dexter" sealed all chance of help as far as Dexie was
concerned, for she put her hands behind her back and surveyed him
scornfully.
"Not I! I wouldn't disfigure you for worlds; it quite completes your
appearance. It would be a sin to remove what Nature seems to have forgotten
in your make-up."
"Do take it off for him, Dexie," said Gussie, coaxingly. I would myself,
only I don't want to dirty my hands."
"And do you think that _Dexter_ is going to soil her beautiful hands by
touching the dirty rags? No; Dexter is not! There might be smallpox on them
for all I know; I'm sure they're spotted enough."
Plaisted turned and twisted himself this way and that, in vain endeavors to
reach the back of his coat, but could not manage it; and as he stood for a
minute, his hands held out in front of him, while he looked over his
shoulder at the unwelcome appendage, he did indeed present a woful figure.
"Why don't you take your coat off?" Gussie said at last.
"Oh! confound it; I never thought of that," as he twisted himself out of
his coat.
"Why, of course you didn't think of it," retorted Dexie. "How could you be
expected to? Everybody knows that creatures with tails are not supposed to
think at all."
"Dexie, I'll tell papa if you won't stop; you are impudent," Gussie said,
sharply.
"Do tell papa, Gussie. I only wish he were here to see the sight himself.
He does not know what he is missing by being late for dinner. It is too bad
that he must get the story second-hand, when he might have enjoyed the
edifying sight himself if he had only been on time."
"I'd like to see the wretch that put that trash on my coat," said Plaisted,
as he flung the mass into the grate. "By George! I'd fix him."
"I'd give a lot to see him myself," said Dexie, exultingly, from the other
side of the table; "and he should have at least a quarter for that piece of
work, though I'm sure it was worth a whole dollar to see you strutting up
the street with signals of distress waving in the breeze behind you. Ha,
ha!"
"I believe you did it yourself before I went out," he said, white with
rage.
"Oh! I do wish I had! How I do wish I had thought of it! How proud I should
feel if _I_ had been the one to give the citizens of Halifax such a grand
idea of what the lost species are like; and how generous of you, too, to
give a free exhibition of yourself, in your proper form, when you might
have gone to the dime museum and earned a fortune!"
Plaisted felt too wrathy to reply, but he gave her a look that was meant to
annihilate her; then turning to Gussie, who seemed to sympathize with him,
said,
"I met those Desbrasy girls as I was coming up the street, and I do believe
they saw it. Confound the thing! I remember now that they pulled out their
handkerchiefs directly I bowed. I daresay they were laughing at me!"
"Laughing! not they!" put in Dexie. "They happened to see your feet, and
were weeping with envy because theirs were so much bigger! Don't fret, Mr.
Plaisted, you are not worth looking at without this finishing touch," and
with a scornful laugh she passed out of the room, slamming the door behind
her.
Plaisted drew a sigh of relief when his tormentor vanished.
"Bless my soul! what a tongue that girl has," and he wiped the perspiration
from his brow. "I hope she don't often let her temper loose like that."
"Well, no; but you have only yourself to blame for it, and I was almost
going to say that it serves you right, too."
"Why! how's that?" said Plaisted, in surprise.
"Well, you know very well that you have tormented Dexie about Lancy Gurney
till you have aroused her temper quite often; but you might have escaped if
you had not insulted her just now."
"Insult her! How, pray? I'm sure I did not."
"You called her 'Dexter,' and that is a name she can't stand from anybody.
I believe she would have taken off those rags for you if you had spoken to
her as 'Dexie,' for she really is obliging, you know, though she did enjoy
seeing you made an April fool."
"Bless my soul! I never noticed that I called her Dexter; and so that was
the spark that caused the explosion? Well, I shall not forget it in a
hurry."
"She generally succeeds in paying back, with double interest, anyone who
uses that name to her, as I know to my sorrow," said Gussie, with a shake
of her head. "Yet, after all, I don't blame her much, either; but it is the
one spot in her make-up that seems vulnerable."
"Well, it is a good thing that I am going away so soon. I expect she will
make it hot for me while I am here."
"Oh, no! I guess you are safe, Mr. Plaisted. The storm is over for this
time, unless you care to brew another like it; the one word will do it, you
know," and she looked up with a smile.
"Thanks; I beg to be excused! That one experience is enough to last me for
one while. Ugh! I wonder if there was any disease on those dirty rags,"
looking at his fingers and then on his coat, as if in doubt which would be
the first to break out with it.
As he left the room to smooth out his ruffled plumage, holding his coat at
arm's length before him, the sounds of laughter in the next room greeted
his ears. As he listened a moment he heard Dexie relating the particulars
of the scene in the parlor, and he shook his fist in the direction of the
sound. This relieved his feelings somewhat, and he vowed a hasty vow that,
for the future, he would leave Dexie Sherwood and her doings alone. He
would have spared himself many unpleasant moments if he had kept his vow.
During the time that Mr. Plaisted was staying with the Sherwoods, Gussie
had been very cool to Hugh McNeil. As the former was about to leave the
city, Gussie thought it time to recall her old "stand-by," and was
surprised to find that Hugh was less ready to return to her side than
formerly. A feeling of jealousy arose in her heart when she saw that Hugh's
attentions were transferred to Dexie.
Hugh had not ceased to come in during the evenings, as usual, even though
Gussie was cool and abrupt with him. Not wishing Hugh to feel hurt by the
change in her sister, Dexie had talked to him, and had played and whistled
for his amusement, till the little spark of kindly regard which had
formerly represented his feelings for Dexie was fast being fanned into a
flame of passion by these little attentions, which were bestowed in a
friendly way, and for her sister's sake.
Dexie was not aware of the change in Hugh McNeil until Mr. Plaisted had
left the city, and she was surprised and displeased to see that Hugh now
ignored Gussie's presence almost as much as Gussie had his when Mr.
Plaisted was near, and turned to her instead.
It was hard to define her true feelings, but when she understood that Hugh
had mistaken her friendliness, her whole being seemed to rise up in a
vigorous protest. As it is "an ill wind that blows nobody good," Lancy was
made happy again by Dexie's presence. She no longer sought to evade him,
and her soft, rippling laughter, mingling with the low tones of Lancy's
voice, was again heard as they lingered over the piano together.
This made Hugh mad with jealousy, and the fact became so plain to Dexie
that her manner was even more gracious to Lancy when Hugh was by to observe
it.
But Hugh's sturdy Scotch nature came to the front, and he made a mental
resolve to win her in spite of everything; even his master's son should not
take Dexie from him. He would wait, but would not vex her by pressing his
suit at present when it seemed so distasteful to her; she might smile on
someone else instead of Lancy, then he could watch her less easily. He
would not meddle with the existing state of things.
Yet he had one bit of comfort given him. He it was who hastily appeared in
the Sherwood household one morning with the startling intelligence of the
assassination of President Lincoln.
The events "at home" were closely watched by all the family, and this
unexpected calamity, just at this time, was as much of a blow to them as to
those nearer the scene of strife.
Hugh had always been "Mr. McNeil" to Dexie. She had never used the more
familiar name, as the rest of the family were in the habit of doing; but
when she heard him tell his news, she caught his arm, and exclaimed:
"Oh, Hugh! do you think it is true, or only a report? Tell us, quickly!"
and she looked eagerly into his face, as if to read the truth there.
Hugh longed to clasp the hand that rested on his arm for a moment, for
during all their intercourse she had never called him "Hugh," and it
thrilled his heart as it fell from her lips. He wished that he might be the
bearer of any news, however unwelcome, if it would cause her to forget her
reserve and repeat again that little word "Hugh."
But nothing happened, and matters went on about the same during the weeks
that followed.
Mr. Sherwood did not return home for some time, for, after selling his
horses, he made a lengthy visit to his mother, who was not in the best of
spirits at this time. She was alarmed at his boldness in coming to see her,
though he assured her he had taken all precaution, her old enemies need not
hear of his presence. His visit so cheered her that he saw she needed
something to take her thoughts away from herself, and from the conflict
that engaged her mind.
Having expressed a desire to have one of her granddaughters come and live
with her for a season, and having a preference for Louie, who seemed to be
a part of the dear old southern home whose name she bore, it was decided
that Mr. Sherwood should bring her to the old homestead for a long visit.
Dinah had been sorely missed by her mistress, though she was slow to
acknowledge it; but, at Mr. Sherwood's suggestion, it was decided to bring
her back with Louie, that the faithful old nurse might spend her last days
with those she had known and loved all her life.