Miss Dexie Part 48

Dexie left the watch in Lancy's care and went home, but she was present next evening when the lieutenant called to claim his property; and as he brought with him a letter of introduction from Major Gurney, he was well received, and his pleasant and affable manner won golden opinions from all.

Yet not from all, either, for Hugh McNeil watched him with frowning brows, and he scowled darkly as he observed Dexie and the lieutenant in close conversation in a corner by themselves.

When Hugh met the lieutenant in the hall on his way out, he did not hesitate to put the question that had been troubling him all day:

"You seem to have met Miss Sherwood before, Lieutenant Wilbur. May I ask where?"

The lieutenant looked at him steadily for a moment before replying:

"I am not at liberty to tell you that, at present, Mr. McNeil, for that is Miss Sherwood's secret, not mine. She tells me that she will be leaving Halifax in a few days; if you will call on me at this address, one week after she has gone," and he handed Hugh his card, "I will be at liberty to place in your hands a _souvenir_ which Miss Sherwood leaves in my care for you. Until that time, I wish you good evening;" and, lifting his hat, the lieutenant departed, leaving Hugh much puzzled over his words.

CHAPTER x.x.xIV.

The last day in Halifax--Dexie never forgot it. It was engraved so indelibly on her memory that time had no power to obliterate it. It had been a busy day as well as a sad one, and Elsie Gurney spent the most of it by the side of her friend, helping, as well as hindering her, as the household goods were being packed for removal. Lancy claimed one hour in the evening for himself; and as the rooms in the Sherwood household were almost dismantled, the greater part of the time was spent over the piano in the Gurneys' parlor, and their heart's good-bye was spoken through the one piece of music which they called their own.

"Remember, Dexie," and Lancy turned on the piano-stool and took her hands in his own, "you must not play that piece for anyone; it is yours and mine.

When you are alone and think of me, let your thoughts be expressed through our own sweet music. Do you know, my Dexie, I believe I shall know when you are playing to me; that invisible power which we have both felt, but cannot express, much less give it a name, will still be between us, and when my heart goes out to you, my darling, it shall be through the same medium.

That piece of music shall be sacred to you alone, and I shall play it for no one else until I see your dear face again. Do you agree, Dexie?"

"Yes, but I feel as if I shall never have the heart to play anything again, Lancy," for this parting from her friend hurt her more than she expected.

"Oh! yes, you will;" and he drew her over to the window within the shadow of the curtains. "The time will soon slip by, and when I go to claim you it will seem to you like coming back home again. I shall always be looking forward to that time, Dexie, so remember your promise."

"You must not forget the conditions, Lancy, and if you find your love grows less, instead of more, be honest with your own heart, and do not, in your pride, hide it from me. Absence may not 'make the heart grow fonder' in our case," she added, with a sad smile.

"Do not prophesy evil, but think of the happy present. Are you afraid or ashamed to own the fact to others, that you care for me at the present time?"

"No, I do not think any one who knows us will accuse either of us of bashfulness; the opposite has been laid to my charge until it has become an old story," she replied.

"Well, seeing that we understand each other, why not wear your ring? I particularly want Hugh to see it on your finger; I don't believe he has given you up yet, Dexie. Will you wear it to please me?"

Dexie unclasped the chain from her neck, and Lancy slipped the ring in its place on her finger.

"I think you need not mind what Hugh says or thinks," she said in a low tone. "I did not intend to tell you, Lancy, but I will confess now that Hugh saw that ring on my finger once before," and she told him the substance of the stolen interview in the upper hall.

"That is how it happens that we are on speaking terms again," she added, "but when Hugh gets well enough to travel, and begins to realize that he is a rich man, he will smile at all this foolishness; but if I live a hundred years, I will never forget that dreadful afternoon in the boat. Lieutenant Wilbur is going to give him his revolver after I am gone; that will be a reminder of it which he won't like, I am thinking!"

The next morning the last article was removed from the house, and the last good-bye given to the friends they must leave behind them. The two families met for the last time in Mrs. Gurney's parlor, and as they lingered over the last words, Dexie seated herself at the piano, and there was no quiver in her voice, though there were tears in her eyes, as she sang:

"Farewell, farewell, is a lonely sound, And always brings a sigh; Then give to me, when loved ones part, That good old word, 'Good-bye.'"

Hugh and Lancy, as well as Elsie and Cora, accompanied the family to the boat, which was to sail about noon. Hugh lingered near the group on the steamer, hoping that Dexie would give him some kind word at parting, and at last Lancy, very generously, took her over to his side, saying:

"Don't look so blue, old fellow; Dexie is not taking a final leave of Halifax. Time is most up, I expect," he added hastily, as he took out his watch, then turned aside as he saw Hugh's agitated face.

"It is really settled, then," said Hugh, in a low voice, as he took Dexie's hand. "I wish you had left something that I could do for you, so that my life will not feel quite so empty."

"I have no favor to ask of you, Mr. McNeil, yet if I hear that you have been kind to Nina Gordon it will please me very much. Mind, I do not ask it of you. If someone would have the goodness of heart to save her from her mother, she would make a sensible woman yet. If Cora Gurney would only take a friendly interest in her, I would not be afraid of the future of my _double_. Good-bye, Mr. McNeil, that is the warning-signal, I believe."

Hugh seemed in no hurry to heed the warning, but stood aside where he could watch Dexie's face as she parted from Lancy. He heeded not the few hurried words so earnestly spoken, nor the fervent clasp of their hands, for there was no answering light in Dexie's eyes as they rested on Lancy's face.

Friends were hurrying across the gang plank, but Hugh waited till Lancy had disappeared; then stepping to Dexie's side, he hurriedly whispered:

"I was not mistaken! your heart has not yet awakened, as I said! and Lancy's ring binds no heart but his own. All is fair in love and war, and my chance is as good as his, after all! _Au revoir_, my little wife!" and he raised his hat and hurried ash.o.r.e.

His heart beat rapidly, and though he carried away the memory of Dexie's indignant look, he stepped across the plank with a firm, light step. Lancy wondered at the transformation which seemed to have taken place in Hugh since he had seen him on deck, a few short minutes ago; but they stood together and watched the receding steamer, until the one that was so dear to them both was lost to view.

While Dexie was on deck taking her last look of "dear old Halifax," Gussie hurried below to secure the best accommodation for herself, and she was so long in deciding the matter that she appeared only in time to wave her farewell from the deck.

After the bustle of departure had subsided, the steward came forward bringing a moss-lined basket, filled with choice hothouse flowers, saying:

"A gentleman left this in my care, to be delivered to Miss Dexie Sherwood.

I believe it belongs to one of you ladies."

"Oh, Dexie, they can't _all_ be for you," said Gussie, eagerly, as she reached out her hand and took the basket from the steward's hands.

"Here is a note directed to me; wait till I see who it is from," and Dexie picked a tiny roll of paper from among the blossoms. One hasty glance over the written lines, and Dexie curled her lip in a disdainful smile.

"You may have everyone of them, Gussie, for I don't want them," and she drew herself away, as if the very touch of the basket were odious to her, at which Gussie looked up in surprise.

"Hugh McNeil sent them, so you are welcome to everyone of them," she said in a low voice, as the steward withdrew. "He is very particular to state that they are for me alone," and her lip curled. "I wish they had been brought to me while he was by, I would have tossed them overboard before his eyes! Thank fortune, I have seen the last of him!"

"You will live to be sorry for your treatment of Hugh McNeil, mark my words! He would not have found me so hard to please," and Gussie placed the flowers tenderly beside her.

Strange, but the first thing that Dexie did when she reached the privacy of her stateroom was to s.n.a.t.c.h Lancy's ring from her finger, almost angrily, and slipping it again on the chain about her neck she snapped the catch with no easy hand; and her face was far from being tender and loving as she put out of sight the pledge of Lancy's love and fidelity, for she was saying in her heart:

"I will never be so foolish as to put that on my finger again; it was wrong to wear it at all. Hugh is right; it binds no heart but Lancy's, and I doubt if I can truly say that much itself, three months from now."

If we look in upon the Sherwood household a few weeks later, we will find them comfortably settled in the busy town of Lennoxville, a town which is noted throughout New England for its manufacturing industries. The house is pleasantly situated a short distance back from the street, allowing room for a neat lawn in front of the house, which is made more attractive by a few flower-beds set near the front entrance, and beneath the windows.

The former owner had taken much pleasure in designing the house and its surroundings, and everything about the premises was neat, convenient and attractive, but financial difficulties had obliged him to relinquish the property just when he might naturally expect to reap the benefit of his labors. Mr. Sherwood had purchased it at a very reasonable figure, considering the advantages it possessed, and having obtained a permanent and remunerative position in the office of a large manufacturing firm, the family had reason to hope that this was their last move for some years.

Dexie was delighted at the possibilities which the well-laid-out kitchen garden at the rear of the house promised to afford. Everything at present was bare and sere, but when the spring opened it would require but little labor, and that of a pleasant description, to prepare a garden that should delight the heart of any housekeeper; and the flower-beds in the front of the house, which were now covered and protected by branches of fir, would in due season blossom into spots of beauty.

The family-life at this time was very pleasant. Gussie seemed to have forgotten, for the time, all her former jealous and unkind feelings, which had made her so often, while in Halifax, an unpleasant member of the household.

Society in Lennoxville was pleasant and attractive, and the Sherwoods were made right welcome among a choice circle of friends. Invitations to social gatherings were showered upon the twin girls until their popularity was so firmly established that no one thought of questioning it.

Dexie missed her Halifax friends very much. She met with no one in her new home who could fill the place that the Gurney family had held in her heart, and among all her many friends there was none she could make such an intimate companion of as Elsie Gurney. In musical circles, Dexie soon filled an envious position; but so far she had met no one whose sympathies were like Lancy's. Oh, yes, she missed Lancy very much, indeed--she never hesitated to confess it when the matter was alluded to; and very often, when alone in the parlor, the piece of music which had such a strange power over each of them filled the air with unmistakable longing, and seemed to speak of loneliness and sorrow. But her bright face expressed no such sad feeling to others; it seemed only the musical side of her nature that mourned the loss of a kind and sympathetic friend.

She heard quite frequently from Elsie, and Lancy's weekly letters were always bright and chatty; but they left Dexie with a certain uneasy feeling that should have had no place in her heart, if Lancy's expressed regards met with the reciprocation which he had some right to expect.

She would not have cared to confess to the relief she experienced when, some weeks later, Lancy wrote to her of his intended visit to England, where he meant to spend a few months among his relatives in Devonshire; and the thought that the wide ocean would be between them, did not cause the same regretful feeling in her heart as it did in Lancy's. Once since they had left Halifax, Dexie, to her surprise, received a letter from Hugh McNeil, that had come enclosed in one to her father. Mr. Sherwood said little as to the contents of his letter; but the earnest, pa.s.sionate words in Dexie's left no doubt in her mind that Hugh had small intention of giving up his suit, though for the present he would leave her in peace.