A kinder welcome could not be imagined than Dexie received from Guy's
sister when they arrived in Boston, for Mrs. Graham had heard so much of
Guy's "little girl" that she took Dexie to her heart at once.
The mental disquietude and physical weariness that she had passed through
kept Dexie confined to her room for two days, but on the morning of her
third day in Boston she stepped out the church-door a willing, happy bride.
"Really, I can hardly believe that I have been turned into a married woman
since I entered the church," she said softly, as Guy seated her in the
carriage. "Does it seem real to you, Guy?"
"Well, hardly, dearest; but I am going to prove the reality of it, and use
the authority just granted to me, by insisting that you put aside the
thoughts that have made your face so sad. Let us think of the new, happy
life before us, and forget the trials we have passed through. We are going
to be very happy together, my little wife."
"Yes, I am sure of that. I believe our quiet and unconventional wedding
will bring us quite as much happiness as if we had been married with all
the fuss that generally attends affairs of this kind."
(They were driving back to Mrs. Graham's, where a few friends had been
invited to meet them before they left for a short trip.)
"Yes, indeed," was the reply; "and I think we will enjoy it in a greater
degree than if we were surrounded by a crowd of distracting friends, though
I believe it is usually considered the one time in a person's life when
friends are most appreciated. Why it should be so I cannot see, if all love
is like ours. I have obtained my heart's desire at last. This happy day has
been long delayed, but is none the less dear for the waiting, and you can
never say again that you feel 'alone' in the world."
Dexie gave him a grateful look, as there was no time for words before the
carriage stopped at Mrs. Graham's hospitable doorway, where smiling faces
awaited them. Kisses and congratulations were not wanting, and the few
friends who had accompanied them to church followed them into the house. A
few hours later the happy married pair left for New York, where they spent
a pleasant season viewing the sights of the metropolis.
On returning to Boston, Guy was offered a position in a large
establishment, the headquarters of the firm, doing business in Lennoxville,
in which he was previously engaged. This arrangement proved agreeable to
all parties, and made it unnecessary for Dexie to return to the scene of
her former trials.
Dexie soon found herself mistress of a charming little house, situated in
one of Boston's beautiful suburbs, where her windows looked out on a lovely
prospect. Here the time flew by so rapidly in caring for her dainty rooms
and blossoming borders that her thoughts seldom dwelt on the unhappy weeks
which preceded her marriage.
It was a delightful surprise when the dear old piano came with the rest of
her belongings from home, but the grateful letter of thanks which Mrs.
Sherwood received was tossed aside without a word, though the letter had
not failed to touch the mother's heart.
The piano had been a silent rebuke, and Mrs. Sherwood had been pleased to
remove it out of her sight, wishing in her heart that the memories which
troubled her could be as easily banished.
But no other piano could have been half so dear to the heart of Dexie, and
when she sat down before her beloved instrument the first chords she struck
brought happy tears. It was like the greeting of a dear friend long absent.
Little wonder her fingers lingered lovingly over the keys as piece followed
piece.
"Dexie," said Guy, coming over to her side and leaning one arm on the
piano, "do you remember playing for your father and me one evening and
refusing us a certain piece? I have often wondered at the reason of that
refusal. May I ask if you will play it for me now, darling?"
Dexie dropped her hands into her lap and lifted a flushed face to her
husband's gaze.
"Dear Guy, I wish you had not asked me, for I do not think I can."
"What! not for me!" said he, laughing. "Not for your own husband! Come now,
Dexie, have I found a cause to be jealous already?"
Dexie's arms were around his neck in a moment.
"Do not say such words, dearest, not even in jest; you do not know how it
hurts me. Do you think I would have refused to play that piece for papa for
a slight reason, Guy?"
"No, but tell me the reason, wifie. Come, no secrets from your hubby,
mind," looking into her eyes with a teasing glance. "You know you told me
you only played it when you were sentimentally inclined, and you must only
be 'sentimentally inclined' in my direction now, so what is the secret?"
kissing the lips so temptingly near.
"You are welcome to the secret, dearest, if I can put it into words, but
not to the music, I fear, unless you will stand where I shall not see that
you are watching me. There are some things hard to explain, and the effect
of that piece of music upon me is one of them. Had I played it for papa,
it would have grieved instead of pleased him, for it generally makes me
cry; though why it has such power over me I do not quite understand. I have
only played it before one person, and he understood it; so I did not mind."
"Now you have made me more curious than ever, little wife. You have played
it for one person, and that person a gentleman, and yet you cannot play it
for me. Now, Dexie, how could you break my heart by such a confession!"
said he, laughing.
"It was only Lancy Gurney, so don't be foolish," leaning her head
confidingly on his shoulder.
"_Only_ Lancy Gurney! Worse and worse!" laughing gaily, as he held up her
face to meet his gaze. "Don't tell me you are 'sentimentally inclined' in
_his_ direction yet, or I shall do something desperate."
"How can I tell you about it, if you laugh? I am afraid you will not
understand it, if you look at it seriously!"
"Well, try me, anyway," and he drew her on to his knee.
"I fear it needs a musician's heart to understand it. I do not mean that
the piece is so very difficult, but it has such strange, peculiar chords,
which sound so exquisitely sweet, that it makes the tears come, no matter
how hard I try to repress them. It affected Lancy the same way, so I did
not mind playing it before him, but you see I could not give any reasonable
explanation for my tears had I played it for you at papa's request."
"Say no more, little wife. I'll not tease you about it again; but let me
confess a little sin. I listened to you one night through the open window
when you were playing that piece, and I saw you in tears, too, but I did
not rightly guess the cause of them."
"But I have not told you all yet! What will you say when I tell you that I
gave Lancy Gurney one promise which I have not been able to break!
Possibly, Lancy and I _were_ 'sentimentally inclined' when he exacted it of
me, but we agreed not to play that piece for other people, and I doubt if
he finds that promise any easier to break than I do, for he would not care
to let others see his emotion. I have often wondered what was in the heart
of the composer, for it touches my heart like no other piece of music has
power to do. I fear I have not made it very plain to you, dear, but I wish
you understood it as Lancy did."
"Little wife, I believe you care for him yet," lifting her face and kissing
her lips.
"Yes, of course I do, but not as I care for you. It is only the musical
corner of my heart that he has touched, for apart from music I never give
him a thought. My love for you is different; it seems to fill my life."
"You shall not find me exacting, dearest. Lancy is quite welcome to that
musical corner, while I have such a heart full of love for my own. I would
not have spoken about that music had I known what it was to you. I will
remember after this," he added, smiling, "that it is 'sacred to the memory
of--Lancy Gurney,' and I am quite willing to have it so," and he drew her
close to his side.
"It is kind of you, dear, to respect this, my one bit of private property.
I could never tell you what that music has been to me, for though it brings
tears to my eyes it has the power to comfort. It seems to soothe and
sympathize with me in my little troubles, and during that unhappy time
after papa died I do not know what I should have done without the piano to
talk to; it seemed the only bit of comfort left to me."
Guy raised the drooping head, and gazing tenderly into her tear-filled eyes
said, gently:
"Dearest love! I do not believe that I half know you yet! There seem depths
in your nature that I have never reached, and thoughts in your heart that I
have never shared; they are so far above me. Trust me as far as you will,
darling, and do not think that I wish you to break a promise that seems
more sacred than sentimental," and he drew her to his heart again.
A few days later Guy brought home a thick letter to Dexie bearing the
postmark of Halifax, and as Dexie read it a troubled look spread over her
face, but she said nothing until the lamp had been lit and the curtains
drawn; then she drew close to her husband's side, saying:
"Elsie has sent me very unpleasant news, dear."
"Then I wish she had not written; I do not like to see my little wife look
sad over anything. May I know what it is, dear? but do not tell me if you
had rather not, Dexie," and he drew her down to his knee.
"I do not think Elsie knew that her news would trouble me, for she seldom
sees beneath the surface of things. My marriage has given her mother a
great deal of trouble, and as she is the dearest little woman that I ever
knew, I feel very sorry."
"For your marriage or the 'little woman'?"
"What a tease you are!" joining in his laugh. "But there is a ludicrous
side to Elsie's story, too, though it is the unpleasant part of it that
strikes me first. Do you remember the threat that Hugh McNeil made when we
told him we were going to be married? Well, he has carried it out, and has
married Nina Gordon, my double, that I told you about. Oh, it is a shame! a
cruel shame! What a life she will lead with that passionate man, with no
love between them to soften his feelings! Hugh could never listen to her
patiently five minutes at a time; that is why he said he wished she was
dumb! Oh, Guy! I feel so grieved. She is so sensitive at heart, for all her
silliness, while Hugh is hasty and hot-tempered. How cruel of him to spoil
her life, if he only married her for the chance resemblance to me, and it
would be just like Hugh to tell her of it in one of his outbursts of
temper. It has made me feel so unhappy that I could not finish my letter; I
feel as if I were to blame in some way."
"Do not feel so troubled about it, my little wife; perhaps she will so
improve under Hugh's tuition that she will be glad that her chance likeness
was the means of making her his wife. I have often wondered, Dexie, how you
refused him yourself. He seemed so persistent it is a wonder that he did
not take you from me," drawing her closer to his side. "He seemed to have
every quality that women most admire in a man."
"Well, I did admire him--at a distance--a _long_ distance, you know," she
laughingly answered, "but directly we were near enough to talk to each
other, we were sure to disagree. What a charming married couple we would
have made!" and both laughed at the mental picture. "Poor Nina! she has not
the spirit to stand the first unkind word. I do hope Hugh will not be rough
with her."
"I have a better opinion of Hugh McNeil than to think he will be rough with
his own wife. From what I saw of him I rather admired him, and I hope he
will be happy in his married life."
"I hope so, too, but--I fear for Nina. Let me read Elsie's letter to you,
and you will understand the situation, for she is such an innocent little
kitten that she has disclosed more than she is aware of":
"I cannot call you by your new name yet, but I hope you will not mind, for
you will always be just 'Dexie' to me. I know that I ought to begin my
letter with best wishes and congratulations, but I cannot do it honestly,
so it would not be honor bright. Your marriage has made such a disturbance
here that I do not know what to think, only that I am sure you are not to
blame for it; so I wish you to know the story, even though Cora often says,
'I hope Dexie will never hear about this.'
"When I received the papers you sent me containing the announcement of your
marriage, I, very naturally, read it out for the benefit of the rest in the
room, never thinking I was doing anything out of the way; but that horrid
Hugh McNeil was present, and before I had quite finished reading it he
jumped to his feet and glared at me till I screamed with fright. Then he
snatched the paper from me, and tore it in a thousand pieces, and stamped
and stormed about the room till I felt sure he was crazy, then I ran from
the room in terror. Then, as if that were not enough, Cora followed me out
and said she had a good mind to box my ears for reading it out before Hugh,
and yet I am quite sure that she likes you as much as ever. Well, we had an
awful time with Hugh that night. He attempted to shoot himself, and mother
cried and father scolded, and Lancy had to come and watch him till
daylight. We were getting over our scare, and I was beginning to think it
was a 'temporary fit of insanity,' as Cora said, when we were startled by
another fit that is anything but 'temporary' this time, for Hugh asked papa
to rent him the other half of the house where you lived, stating that he
was going to be married immediately! Of course we wanted to know the name
of the lady, and you can imagine our surprise and dismay when he said it
was Nina Gordon. We all felt badly about it, for no one can imagine for a
minute that he cares for her. As soon as he had rented the house he started
off to Montreal, taking Mrs. Gordon and her daughter with him, and he
returned about a fortnight ago, bringing Nina as his wife. Mrs. Gordon is
to live in Montreal, and however Nina will manage without her mother at her
elbow, is what puzzles everybody.
"I did not see Mrs. McNeil till a few days ago, for I was huffy at Hugh and
would not be friendly with his wife; but when I did call I got such a
surprise that for a few minutes I stood still in astonishment, for, if you
will believe me, Dexie, they have got the house fixed up just as it used to
look when you lived there--the same pattern of carpets and curtains, the
pictures on the wall seem to be the very same, even to 'George Washington'
that you used to make fun of. A piano occupies the same spot, and in the
midst of it all there sat Nina with one of your pretty dresses on. Well, I
suppose, the dress _was_ her own, but I cannot understand how she happened
to get it made so much like yours. Of course I made remarks, how could I
help it when everything was so much like old times! but, in the most
unexpected moment, in came Hugh, and the way he went on at me was something
fearful! I am sure I never hinted that he had not a right to furnish his
house to suit himself, but when I went home he followed me and had a long
talk to mother about me. Nasty thing, that he is! and now I am forbidden to
mention to anyone the astonishing resemblances that I see next door. They
have sent me to my room for an hour because I _looked_ surprised at a
remarkable thing, so I thought I would sit down and tell you how badly I am
treated, for I am snubbed at every turn, and no one likes to be continually
snubbed.
"We like Lancy's wife very much, though she is different from what we
expected. It is quite plain that she is very much in love with Lancy, so he
ought to be pleased. I suppose it will not be 'the correct thing,' as Nina
says, if I tell you why we felt so disappointed over his marriage, but we
all expected his wife would be the dear girl we used to know and love. I
often think that Lancy misses her, for his wife is not a bit musical; but
everything is contrary here. There! I am called, and my hour is not yet up,
so that's odd, too."
"That is only the first part of the letter, but it contains news enough for
a dozen," said Dexie, as she laid the closely-written sheets on the table
before her. "I am sure you see now what a trouble my marriage has been to
dear Mrs. Gurney."
"Yet we imagined it was a very quiet affair, eh, Dexie?" regarding her with
an amused smile: "However, do not take it so seriously, darling. Things
have, no doubt, quieted down by now, and everyone will not see Hugh's wife
and home with Elsie's eyes."
"But I have not finished the letter yet; wait till you hear the rest."
"There is a postscript, I suppose, and like every other woman's letter, it
needs to be read first," was the smiling reply. "Well, let us hear the
conclusion of the matter."
Taking up the remaining pages, Dexie read:
"I was called downstairs to see Mrs. McNeil, who was in the parlor and had
asked to see me especially, and as my eyes rested upon her the word 'Dexie'
sprang to my lips. She had on your garnet velvet suit, and looked as well
in it as ever you did. I intended to treat her very coolly, for I had not
forgiven Hugh, though I have been to church twice since he offended me; but
she was so very friendly, and so anxious to make amends for Hugh's
behavior, that my coolness melted away. She begged me to try and like her
'for Dexie's sake,' and as Hugh had sent regrets for his hasty words and
wished me to run in as freely as I did in the old times, I feel as if I can
repeat the responses in church this evening without feeling so terribly
wicked over it. I fancy, from what Nina says, that Hugh is often quite
stern and cold in his way of speaking to her, and she admitted that he has
already made her cry. I feel very sorry for her, for I did not know when I
began this letter why Hugh was so put out at your marriage, but I do now,
and I think that since you would not have Lancy it is a good thing that you
are safely married; but take care that Hugh does not run away with you some
day. He is quite equal to it yet."
"There is no danger of that," said Guy, referring to the concluding
passage. "I can read another story between the lines of Elsie's letter, and
I think, dear, that Hugh's wife will not blame you if her marriage should
not prove a happy one."
"I hope you are right, Guy; but how could I bear it if I thought you
married me just because I resembled someone that you knew and loved, but
could not marry," and she put her arms around his neck and looked into his
eyes.
"But you know that my heart has been yours since I first saw you, so why
need you borrow trouble, my little wife? There! lie still in my arms and
rest content," drawing her close to his breast with a tenderness that gave
a fresh assurance of his love.
"Do you know, Dexie, dear," he added presently, "something in that letter
tells me that Hugh explained everything to Nina before he married her, and
she could have refused him if she objected to the conditions. Hugh's money
would overbalance many difficulties, and I have no doubt that Mrs. Gordon
urged her daughter to accept him, with a full knowledge of his reasons for
wishing to marry her. I feel sure that Nina is willing and anxious to
please Hugh, and he may yet find much happiness in the society of your
double. Few men would care to do such a thing, I admit, but if he finds any
solace in his disappointment in surrounding himself with things that are
dear to his memory and in making his wife a second Dexie, it is well."
POSTSCRIPT.
Having happily married my heroine and disposed of her lovers, it occurs to
me that I have reached the place where story-writers usually make a big
flourish, write "Finis," and then lay down the pen.
But the story of a person's life does not end with marriage, as some would
have us think, for marriage generally brings out one's best qualities or
develops the worst, and is sure to make or mar the life of every woman;
consequently, this story is not yet finished. Yet why should I trouble
myself to write out the remainder of it until I have discovered if the
reading public are interested in Dexie's life so far as it has been already
told? It may be that no one cares to follow her fortunes any further, or
feels the least desire to know what the future has in store for her, to say
nothing of the friends who have been associated with her; and as I have no
wish to bore you, dear reader, gentle or otherwise, it rests with you to
say if their married lives shall be laid bare or not.
I am aware that the marriage of my heroine lacked the _eclat_ which usually
attends events of that kind--in story books--but I fancy the average reader
is well acquainted with all the details of an elaborate wedding, and must
be surfeited with the various accounts of them by this time. However, if
that is the style of wedding you prefer, I can give the names of several
volumes which contain everything you can possibly desire in the way of
description of gorgeous wedding costumes and all the rest of the
paraphernalia that goes along with them, and you can read any account that
suits you better, then take up my story further along. See?
Those that take objection to Dexie's home-life--particularly to that
immediately preceding her marriage--are reminded that such lives do exist.
When death visits a family, and removes the restraining head, the petty
faults of the remaining inmates are apt to grow apace, unless the Angel of
Death has touched their hearts with divine grace. Lacking this, the
development of character has a downward tendency. It does not make pleasant
reading, but I have not told an impossible tale. But who knows "how the
other half lives?"
The question is--Do you care to know if Dexie has chosen her life as wisely
as she might have done? Would her married life have been happier if she had
married Lancy Gurney? The affection they had for each other was akin to
love; there was a sympathy between them which those who have an intense
love for music can alone understand, and which might have proved a source
of happiness, even during a life-long existence. They might not have
experienced the rapture of heartfelt love, but their lives might have been
more peaceful and contented without it, for deep love often means keen
sorrow.
Or would it have been better if she had accepted the love as well as the
money which Hugh McNeil was so anxious to lay at her feet? She might have
learned to care for him in time, and to have found pleasure in a life
surrounded by all the joys that wealth can bestow. To have an abundance of
worldly goods, and to be exempt from the petty cares and economies which a
limited income necessitates, is a condition much to be desired, even where
no love exists to soften the heart of husband and wife, and in this case
Hugh McNeil could not be charged with possessing an unloving heart.
Dexie thinks she has made the wisest choice in accepting Guy Traverse and
marrying for love, but she has yet to face the question--Is mutual love
alone essential to secure a happy married life? or in the language of the
world:
"Does it pay to marry for love alone?"
* * * * *
ABOUT SHORTHAND!
The need of a simpler and swifter mode of writing is felt by all who have
much writing to do--by newspaper men, by legal gentlemen, by clergymen, by
students in taking class lectures and making notes of many things valuable
for future "refreshment," authors and scientific men in recording important
facts.
Amanuenses are in demand as corresponding clerks and secretaries in all
important mercantile and literary offices, at salaries much higher than is
paid in any similar employment. Indeed, many of the leading business and
professional men owe their prosperity to their knowledge of Shorthand and
Typewriting.
If a young man or woman desires a business or profession, light, pleasant,
what is more congenial than stenography? Other occupations are crowded, and
the income for years is small. But stenography, on the other hand, is an
opening through which one can enter any business or profession with rewards
equal to ability and capacity.
Which System?
There are a dozen or more different systems of shorthand. Each one is best
to somebody. Which is best for you? Eleven are hard to learn, and harder to
practise; who will learn them? One is simple and easy--children learn it.
The one is
Simple Shorthand
best, because simplest, easiest, quickest learned, most legible of all, and
fully answers every purpose for which shorthand is desired.
Shorthand must be learned quickly, or most people cannot afford the time.
There has never been a satisfactory system till now. Previous systems have
been too complicated, and people get an idea that shorthand is very
difficult--it is not. Simple Shorthand is not.
Simple Shorthand excels the difficult systems in all their good points, and
seems to have none of their faults. Therefore I cannot be too exact in
describing it. The several advantages are:
No shading, no positions, no arbitrary characters, and the vowels are
written in their natural order without lifting the pencil; as in longhand,
no depending upon "context."
If you could learn the Pitman system (100 words a minute) in six months,
you could easier learn Simple Shorthand in three months. Our scholars learn
Simple Shorthand in a week, then use it writing up their book-keeping. It
saves more than half their time.
You can learn shorthand by mail just as well. I guarantee success in every
case, or return the money. I send lessons, instructions, criticise and
correct all exercises, until you can write 100 words a minute, for $10,
payable at beginning.
Lesson free, write for it.
SNELL'S ACTUAL BUSINESS AND SHORTHAND COLLEGE,
TRURO, N.S.
* * * * *
R.J. TURNER,
VICTORIA SQUARE, TRURO, N.S.,
Direct Importer of
Hardware, Crockery and Groceries.
THREE SEPARATE DEPARTMENTS UNDER ONE ROOF.
FRENCH, ENGLISH AND AUSTRIAN CHINA GOODS A SPECIALTY.
Blanchard, Bentley & Co.,
IMPORTERS OF
DRY GOODS,
MILLINERY,
CARPETS, Etc.,
WHOLESALE AND RETAIL.
Large Assortment, Small Profits and Strictly One Price.
TRURO AND NEW GLASGOW,
NOVA SCOTIA.