May came with blossoms, lilacs, and a birthday, she smiled all to
herself over last year's reverie; the anniversary of the day in which
she had walked homewards with Mr. Hammerton and accepted Felix in the
evening followed the birthday; a sad anniversary for Felix, she
remembered, for he had her habit of retrospection.
The days slipped through his mind, Laura had told her; he would often
ask the day of the week or month. He had become quiet and melancholy,
seemingly absorbed in the interest of the moment. He had greeted Tessa
as he would have greeted any friend, at their last interview, and she
had left him believing that his future would not be without happiness. A
year ago to-day, Mr. Hammerton had said that a year made a difference,
sometimes. And this year! How the events had hurried into each other,
jostling against each other like good-humored people in a crowd! A year
ago to-day she had thought of Nan Gerard as the wife of Ralph Towne;
to-day she was sailing on the sea, Professor Towne's wife; just as
naughty as ever, but rather more dignified. A year ago to-night she had
held herself the promised wife of her old tormentor, Felix Harrison;
since that night all his future had become a blank, the strong man had
become as a little child; since that day Dine had found her wonderful
John; since that day Dr. Lake had had his heart's desire, and had been
called away from Sue, leaving her a widow; the hurrying year had taken
from Gus a long hope and had given him a future of hard work with meagre
wages. And Dr. Towne! But she could not trust herself to think of him.
They met as usual, not less often; he had grown graver since last year,
and had thrown himself heart and soul into his work: never
demonstrative, his manner towards her, had, if possible, become less and
less intrusive; but ever responsive, having nothing to respond to, now,
but a gentle deference, a shyness that increased; a stranger would have
said, meeting him with Tessa Wadsworth, that he was intensely interested
in her, but exceedingly in doubt of finding favor.
But Tessa could not see this; she felt only the restraint and
chilliness.
Once they were left suddenly alone together; he excused himself and
abruptly left her; clearly, he had no reply to make to her letter; his
love was worn out with her freaks and whims.
"I deserve it," she said, taking stern pleasure in meting out justice to
herself.
One afternoon in late May, she found herself on the gnarled seat that
the roots had braided for her; she had been gazing down into the brook
and watching a robin-redbreast taking his bath in it, canary-fashion;
she watched him until he had flown away and perched upon a post of the
Old Place meadow fence, then her eyes came back to the water, the
stones, and the weeds.
"I always know where to find you!" The exclamation could be in no other
loud voice; she recognized Sue before she lifted her eyes to the tall,
black-draped figure. If Sue had had a sorrow, there was no trace of it
in voice or countenance.
"Isn't it dusty? How I shall look trailing around in all this black
stuff! What do you always come here for? Do you come to meet somebody?"
"It seems that I have come to meet you."
"Don't you remember how you talked to me here that day? I did keep my
promise; I _was_ good to Gerald. Poor, dear Gerald! I have nothing to
reproach myself with."
"Did mother send you here?"
"She said that I would find you between the end of the planks and
Mayfield. Come through the grounds of Old Place with me. I want you to
see Mrs. Towne's flowers and a new arbor that Dr. Towne has been putting
up."
"No, thank you," said Tessa rising and tossing away a handful of
withering wild flowers.
"You don't know how lovely the place is. Dr. Towne is always thinking of
some new thing to do; I asked him if it were for that grand wife that he
has been waiting so long for, and, do you believe, he said 'Yes,' as
sincerely as could be. He looked up at his mother and smiled when he
said it, too. I believe they know something. Nan Gerard didn't get him
any way! Won't she have a lovely time travelling! I always did want to
go to Europe; Gerald never would have taken me. I can't believe that
he's dead, can you?"
As Tessa was busy with her veil and did not speak, Sue rattled on.
"Did you know that I've been making another visit at Miss Gesner's? They
call their place Blossom Hill, and it has been so sweet with blossoms."
"Is she as lovely as ever?"
"I don't know," said Sue, doubtfully; "sometimes I think that she is
stiff and proud; the truth is she doesn't like to have her old brother
pay attention to me. She thinks that he is too old a boy for such
nonsense; but _he_ doesn't think so! Good for me that he doesn't. What
are you walking so fast for? I went to drive with him every day after
business hours; we _did_ look stylish!"
"With Miss Gesner, too?" queried Tessa, in a voice that she could not
steady.
"No, indeed," laughed Sue, "and that's the beauty of it. What did we
want her along for? Of course we talked about Gerald; we talked a great
deal about him. I told him how kind he had been to me and how I adored
him and how I mourned for him. I am sure that I cried myself sick; Dr.
Towne gave me something one night to keep me from having hysterics! I
should have died of grief if Mrs. Towne hadn't taken me to Old Place;
she was like a mother, and _he_ was as kind as kind could be! It was
like the other time before I was engaged to Gerald; I couldn't believe
that it wasn't that time. The Gesners were kind, too; I thought at first
that Miss Gesner really loved me; but she began to be stiff after she
saw her brother kiss me. I couldn't help it; I told him that it was too
soon for such goings on."
"O, _Sue!_" cried Tessa, wearily. "And he loved you so."
"Gerald! Of course he did! But that's all past and gone! He can't expect
me never to have any good times, can he? He didn't leave me any money to
have a good time with! I'm too young to shut myself up and think of his
grave all the time. You and father are the most unreasonable people I
ever saw! Why, he thinks because he thinks of mother every day, and
wouldn't be married for any thing, that I must be that kind of a
mourner, too! It's very hard; nobody ever had so much trouble as I do. I
never used to like John Gesner, but you don't know how interesting he
can be. He took off my wedding ring one day and said it didn't fit. It
always was a little too large. Gerald said that I would grow into it,"
she said, slipping it up and down on her finger and letting it drop on
the grass.
"There!" with a little laugh as she stooped to look for it, "suppose I
could never find it. Is that what you call an omen, Tessa? Help me
look!"
"No, let it be. Let it be buried, too."
"There! I have found it. You needn't be so cross to me. I wonder why you
are cross to me. Gerald Raid once that you would be a good friend to me
forever."
"I will, Susie," said Tessa, fervently.
"You always liked Gerald. What did you like him for?" asked Sue,
curiously.
As the answer was not forthcoming, Sue started off on a new branch of
the old topic. "Mr. John Gesner is going to Europe this fall, or in the
winter; he is going on business, but he says that if he had a wife to go
around with him that he would stay a year or two. Wouldn't that be
grand? Nan Gerard will have to be home when the Seminary opens, anyway.
It would be grand to travel for two years."
"Why does not Miss Gesner go with him?"
"Oh, she wouldn't leave Lewis. Lewis and Blossom Hill are her two idols.
Mr. John says that if he were married, he would build a new house right
opposite, and he asked me as we passed the grand houses which style I
liked best. There was one with porticoes and columns, I chose that. He
said that it could be built while he was away, and be all ready for him
to bring his bride home to. But you are not listening; you never think
of what I am saying," Sue said, in a grumbling, tearful voice. "My
friends are forever misunderstanding me. Gerald never misunderstood me.
What do you think Dr. Towne said to me? He said that when I am old, I
shall love Gerald better than any one; that what comes between will fall
out and leave that time. Won't it be queer? He said that women ought to
think love the best thing in the world. I cried while he was talking. I
can love any body that is kind to me. When I told John Gesner that, he
said, 'I will always be kind to you.' But you are not listening; I
verily believe that you care more for that squirrel than you do for me!"
"See it run," cried Tessa. "Isn't it a perfect little creature? If you
will come and stay a week with me, we will take a walk every day."
"I can't--now," Sue stumbled over her words. "Say, Tessa, Mr. Gesner has
given me a set of pearls. I can wear pearls in mourning, can't I?"
"With your mourning, you can wear any thing."
"Can I? I didn't know it. It's awful lonesome at home; lonesomer than it
ever was."
"I would come and stay a week with you, but I do not like to leave
father; he is not so strong as he was last summer."
"You wouldn't let Mr. Gesner come and spend the evening; I haven't asked
him, but I'm going to ask him the next time I see him."
Dr. Greyson called for Sue late in the evening. "I have the comfort of
my old age hard and fast," he said; "she will never want to run away
from me again, will you, Susie?"
"I don't know," said Sue, with a hard, uncomfortable laugh; "you must
keep a sharp lookout. I may be in Africa by this time next year."