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diff --git a/40324-8.txt b/40324-8.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 13fdf67..0000000 --- a/40324-8.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,5510 +0,0 @@ -Project Gutenberg's True to a Type, Vol. I (of 2), by Robert Cleland - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with -almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or -re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included -with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org - - -Title: True to a Type, Vol. I (of 2) - -Author: Robert Cleland - -Release Date: July 24, 2012 [EBook #40324] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK TRUE TO A TYPE, VOL. I (OF 2) *** - - - - -Produced by Charles Bowen from page scans provided by -Google Books (Oxford University) - - - - - - - - - - - -Transcriber's Notes: - - 1. Page scan source: - http://books.google.com/books?id=l_YUAAAAQAAJ - (Oxford University) - - 2. The diphthong oe is represented by [oe]. - - - - - - - TRUE TO A TYPE - - - - - - - TRUE TO A TYPE - - - - - BY - - R. CLELAND - - - - - IN TWO VOLUMES - - VOL. I. - - - - - WILLIAM BLACKWOOD AND SONS - - EDINBURGH AND LONDON - - MDCCCLXXXVII - - - _All Rights reserved_ - - - - - - - CONTENTS OF THE FIRST VOLUME. - - - CHAP. - - I. PROLOGUE. - - II. CLAM BEACH. - - III. THE FIRST EVENING. - - IV. THE PERILS OF SURF-BATHING. - - V. ROSE AND LETTICE. - - VI. WITH THE SMOKERS. - - VII. A TABLEAU. - - VIII. MRS WILKIE'S POWDER. - - IX. BETWEEN FRIENDS. - - X. A MOTHER'S CARES. - - XI. DISCUSSING A SUITOR. - - XII. TO NAHANT? - - XIII. MAIDA SPRINGER. - - XIV. SUNSET AND MOONSHINE. - - XV. IN AN OMNIBUS. - - XVI. LIPPENSTOCK BAY. - - XVII. FESSENDEN'S ISLAND. - - XVIII. AN ADIEU. - - XIX. STORM-STAYED. - - - - - - TRUE TO A TYPE. - - - - - CHAPTER I. - - PROLOGUE. - - -It was evening in New Orleans--the brief swift evening of the South, -which links, with imperceptible graduation, the sultry glare of day to -the cool of night. The narrow old streets were growing dim in the -transparent dusk. The torpid houses, sealed up hermetically through -all the afternoon to exclude the heated light and air, awoke from -their siesta, throwing wide their doors and casements to the breeze. -The inhabitants came forth, and sauntered up and down, or sat about -their doors, drawing long, deep breaths of the evening air--coming -back to life again, and throwing off their languor. It was the hour of -rest for the toilers, of refreshment for all, and they were enjoying -it in indolent content. - -Only one among the many moving to and fro appeared animated by a -purpose. He stepped briskly forward, brushing against an idler now and -then, but was past before the other's eyes had turned in lazy inquiry -to know the reason. - -He was young. Twenty-one was his actual age, though he might have -passed for some years older. His features and his skin were browned -and sharpened by climate and vicissitude; but in his eye at that -moment there was no sign of aught but youth and hope and blissful -anticipation. Brushing his way swiftly through the sauntering throng, -his gaze seemed fixed upon some joy beyond, heedless of nearer -objects; and his eyes shone with a clearness like the rift in a -moon-obscuring cloud, betraying the brightness and the light within; -and a smile was lurking in the corners of his mouth, which waited only -for a pretext to break forth in joyous laughter. - -Threading his way through the older portion of the town, he arrived at -last in the outskirts, where high blank walls overtopped by trees, and -houses with their faces turned studiously from the street, preserved -the sullen deadness which more populous neighbourhood had cast aside -at sundown. - -Before a garden door he stopped and knocked--knocked loudly, and with -a peculiar tantarabulation, as if it were a well-remembered signal, -and stood and waited impatiently. The shuffling of feet could be heard -within, and there came whisperings and rustlings, but the door -remained fast, and the young man stood and waited, and knocked again, -more softly this time, and with a brightening smile as he stood and -listened. - -"They have gone to call her," he said to himself, "that she may come -and open to me herself, as she used to do. Dear girl! It is three long -years since last she let me in--three weary years. But why this long -delay? She could not expect me, but she knows my knock. Can she be -from home? Then why does not some one open?" - -Again the footsteps could be heard within. Laggingly they drew near. -Heavy unwillingness could be noted in their tread. The young man -knocked again. A key turned gratingly in the stiff old lock, and bolts -and fastenings creaked and rasped and yielded tardily, as to a hand -which trembled while it pressed them. The door swung open, and the -youth with arms extended leaped within the threshold; but the figure -which admitted him was not the one he had expected; his arms fell by -his side--it was not she. - -The figure which had opened drew backward with a scream. It was a -servant, and in the doubtful light the white-handkerchief about the -head stood out against the dusky foliage of the magnolias, and defined -the negro face. - -"O Lordie, Lordie!" was her trembling exclamation, as she shrank away. -She would have run, but her limbs were powerless. She stood staring at -the visitor with starting eyes whose whites revealed the round dilated -pupils, while her mouth hung open in helpless terror. - -"Dinah! Is this your welcome to a returned sailor? Where are your -mistresses? Did they hear my knock?" - -Dinah cowered against the wall, subsiding gradually into a heap upon -the ground, powerless to cry out, too dazed even to pray. Her -scattered faculties seemed fumbling for a word of power wherewith to -reinstate themselves, and avert some peril. "Jerusalem!" was the first -which came to hand. Its utterance brought strength and some return of -thought. It was followed by "Bress de Lord!" and then with speech -restored, she clasped her hands above her head, and with all her -strength cried out. "O Lordie! Take de drown man's spook away!" - -The visitor turned on his heel and walked round to the front of the -house, where doors and shutters stood wide open. Entering by a window -open to the ground, he stood in the reception-room: it was empty, and -its recesses were concealed in gloom. Nothing was clearly seen but the -great white magnolia blossoms in the dim garden without, which -burdened the air with their almost too luscious sweetness. - -A door opened behind him and the mistress entered, followed by her -daughter carrying a lamp. The young man turned eagerly, and the light -falling on his features betrayed a shade of disappointment passing -across them as he recognised the ladies. - -"Is Lina from home?" he asked. "But, mother, at least you can welcome -me home in the meantime. What! Not a word! No kiss even for your -long-lost son-in-law! Surely that is carrying your New England reserve -too far." - -"Welcome if you will, then, lad! I wish you nought but good. I always -liked you well; and you have done nothing to make me change. But oh! -if it had been His will, I would fain you had never returned, seeing -you have stayed so long." - -She laid her hand upon his open palm. It was cold and nerveless, and -her eyes were full of tears. - -The young man would have clasped the fingers, but their dullness stole -into his heart, and the tremor of her voice filled him with sickening -forebodings. - -"Lina! Where is Lina? Tell me quick! Has anything come to her?" - -"She is gone." - -"Dead, do you mean to say?" - -"The same to you, lad, as if she were. She is gone from you for ever." - -"Hush, mother!" said the daughter. "Remember we agreed to tell him -nothing." - -"Millicent! Is it you who say such things? What do you mean? Would you -keep me from my wife?" - -"She is gone; and you must never see her more," said Millicent. - -"I must! and will! and shall!" - -"You are not the man, then," cried the elder woman, "that I take you -for. I tell you, lad, the sight of you would kill her!" - -"Why so? What have you told her about me? What has she done? Or what -do you say that _I_ have done?" - -"Neither of you has done aught amiss, lad--of that I am right sure." - -"What then? What is the matter?" - -"Let it rest, lad. It is God's will. Be brave. Be a man, and bear it." - -"Bear what? What is it I must bear? You have no right to doubt my -courage. Why will you not speak? I demand to be told all." - -"Oh lad!--my poor, poor lad!" sobbed the old woman. "Why will you be -so set? It is to save your own poor heart that we would keep you in -the dark; for what we should have to tell can bring you nought but -sorrow--a sorrow without a remedy." - -"Have no fear for me. Speak! I can carry my load, whatever it may be. -What is your mystery? Where is Lina?" - -"Gone, lad! Have done with her." - -"Gone?--dead? No! You do not mean that she is dead. You would have -told me that at once. What is it that you mean? Say! Is my Lina not -alive? Answer me." - -"She lives," the mother answered, with a groan. "There! Nay, it is -useless to press me. I tell you she is gone." - -"Gone! Would you insinuate shame against my wedded wife? -Unnatural!--against your own sweet daughter? Where has she gone?--and -when?--and how?--I am after her. Tell me quick!" - -"You cannot go to her, Joseph. She is far away. And"--laying her hand -on his arm--"at least I can tell you this, and assure you with all my -heart; there is nought to blush for. She was your faithful wife. No -shame can light on her, or upon you." - -"_Was_, you say?" - -"Yes, lad; all's over now." - -"What do you mean?" - -"She is married--married again." - -"Another man's wife? I do not believe you. What man would dare----? -I'll have his life! But it is not true. Lina never would desert me." - -"Word came that you were lost. Remember that. Pieces of the wreck were -picked up at sea. And Lina--she nearly lost her reason. We thought -that she would die." - -"But I wrote--wrote several times. Do you mean that she did not get my -letters?" and the young man paced the room in vehement disorder. "You -knew I was alive! I can see that you did. You were expecting me! I can -guess it from your delay in letting me in. You would have kept me out -altogether if you had dared! I am sure of it by your behaviour. Only -you were afraid of a public scandal." - -"I did, and I was, lad; and it is yourself would grieve the most, if a -word were to light on the good name of the woman you vowed to love and -honour." - -"The woman who deserts me for another man! But still she is mine! She -cannot be another's. Give her back! Give up the name of her betrayer. -Who is he? Where are they? Speak!" - -The mother had sunk into a chair, her arms propped upon her knees, -covering her face and sobbing wildly, while Millicent bent down and -strove to soothe her. - -"Speak, woman! speak!" he shouted. - -"Have you no pity?" It was Millicent who spoke. - -"What pity are you showing now to me? Give back my wife! Where have -you hidden her? And this man----? She has left me, has she? But _he_ -shall not have her! If I had him by the throat----!" and he clenched -his teeth in fury. - -"Lina never left you. You might know it. You should blush to have -thought it. If ever woman was devoted to a man, it was our Lina. When -word came that you were lost, she fell senseless on the floor. It was -weeks before she recovered her reason; and even then it seemed -doubtful if she would survive. We took her North as soon as we dared -move her, and in the bracing air and change of scene it seemed as if -the vehemence of her grief had spent itself; but the old self seemed -to have gone from her as well. She moved about a listless white-faced -shadow, indifferent to life and everything. It was heartbreaking to -see her--and she not yet eighteen! And mother and I, we were beside -ourselves with anxiety. She appeared too feeble to bring back here, -and we feared the sight of the familiar scenes would revive her grief, -and drive her mad, or kill her. And so, when a gentleman grew -interested in her, and slid into a kind of pitiful intimacy that -seemed to soothe her, we thanked God for raising us up a consoler. And -when, by-and-by, he asked her to marry him, mother and I persuaded her -to listen, for we thought that new duties and a new life would draw -her thoughts away from her great sorrow, and bring her peace. It was -fifteen months, or more, from the time the news reached us of your -loss, when she was married; so you have no call to say that her memory -was short, or that her love was light to come and light to go. She -loved you very truly, and she cherishes your memory yet." - -"What did she say when she received my letters?" - -"She has received none of them. When mother and I got home after her -marriage, we found one awaiting us here. We opened it and we read it, -and we burned it--though it went to our hearts to do so." - -"What right had you to open a letter to my wife? what right to -intercept it?" - -"The right of her nearest to guard poor Lina's peace. What good would -it have done you if we had given it to her? No doubt she would have -left her husband; but that would not have given her back to _you_. You -know her as well as I do. You know that she would not have looked you -in the face after having given herself to another. She would have -pined away for shame; or, more likely, she would have gone mad." - -"Yes, lad," put in the mother, "you must take your trouble on your own -back, unless you would destroy the woman you bound yourself to defend. -You must go away and never let her know you are alive. I make no -question but she would leave her present husband without a word; but -think of yourself! Could _you_ take her to your bosom out of another -man's arms? Could she ever be the same to you as she was before?" - -"Perhaps--perhaps--I do not know." - -"And think of her! How could she live beneath your looks of always -remembering reproach?" - -"At least I can promise never to say a word. I would not reproach -her." - -"Not in words, I well believe, lad. But the reproach unspoken of a -wounded love will out in many a tone and look, without our knowing. -And then, there is the world. How could my girl hold up her head among -honest women? Their pity would be harder even than their scorn to -bear. Lina would die of shame. Oh, lad! be generous, as I know you are -able to be. I know you for a brave true man; and when the first smart -is past, you will have pity for the girl you loved, and who loved you -well. You will spare her weakness, and let your own brave strong heart -contain its grief in silence. You do not know her name or where she -dwells, and you will not attempt to seek her." - -The young man smothered a mighty sob, which nearly rent his breast -asunder, and drew his hand roughly across his eyes to clear their -gathering dimness. He turned and went, without a word of leave-taking. -The elasticity was gone out of his step. His shoulders were bowed as -though they bore a burden. His face was drawn, and aged, and faded. -His very soul seemed crushed. Without another word he stole away out -into the night, where no eye could pry into his sorrow. - -Next day he left New Orleans, and forsook the sea. He returned to his -native province, and, entering on a new career, strove to absorb -himself in its new interests, and forget the past. He prospered, but -he never forgot; or, if he did, the faculty of loving seemed to have -died out of him in the meanwhile. In five-and-twenty years from the -day he lost his wife, no other woman had been able to awaken even a -passing interest in his mind. - - - - - CHAPTER II. - - CLAM BEACH. - - -The Chowder House at Clam Beach is not a giant among the hotels which -line the Atlantic coast. It is designed to accommodate only a hundred -guests, and even at the height of the season it refuses to stretch its -capacity beyond a hundred and fifty. It stands upon a solitary shore, -is some miles from the nearest railway, and shows nothing from its -windows but the tumbling line of surf and the daily procession of -cloud and sunshine across a boundless stretch of sea and sand. - -It is a three-storeyed building encased in wooden galleries, which -form outside corridors on the different floors; and it forms three -sides of a square, enclosing to the back a sheltered tennis-lawn for -those who would avoid the bluster of the keen sea-breeze. - -The place is resorted to by families with a juvenile division, whose -nurses and small fry burrow in the sand which comes up to the very -doorsteps. It makes no pretence to fashion. The guests feel at liberty -to be happy, each in his own favourite dress and manner, without fear -of being compromised. The young bathe in the surf and walk or ride on -the sands all day; and after the Yankee supper of meats, fruit, and -tea, which takes place at seven, make themselves gay with dances and -singing: while the seniors stroll together in groups, or sit apart, -acquiescing in the American law of life, which gives the world to the -young, and places the middle-aged with the elders on the shelf. The -old may work, if so is their good pleasure, but it is only the lads -and lasses who are to play. - -It was early afternoon, in the very hottest of the day. The first bell -for dinner had rung, and the guests were streaming towards the house -from every point along the shore; while the most hungry, already -arrived, loitered on the galleries, and counted the minutes till the -dining-room should be thrown open. - -The omnibus from the station, jolting round the corner, and drawing up -before the door, afforded a pleasing diversion from the yearnings of -appetite. It brought the newspapers of the day; and more, it brought -new guests, who, busied in alighting and claiming their luggage, -formed a subject for observation to the idle eyes above, unintroduced -as yet, and therefore at liberty to stare their fill with all the -impertinent curiosity at their disposal. - -The ladies counted the boxes on the roof, and turned away with a -sniff. Even at Clam Beach, with its freedom from dress parade, the -number of trunks is taken as a criterion of "standing," and certain -ladies of grand manner from Boston are even suspected of bringing -empty ones to support their position. - -The men, toothpick in mouth, continued to stare. There were two pretty -faces visible beneath the flapping brims of broad seaside hats,--one -violet-eyed, with masses of sunny brown hair; the other blond, with -eyes like the forget-me-not,--and they could study them without -prejudice or offence just then. Later, when they met in the parlours -above, it would be different. - -Presently the hotel cart trotted up with a number of trunks. A slight -"Ah!" of satisfaction spread itself on the air, and the ladies resumed -their attitude of observation. They were not going to be compromised -after all, it seemed, by the presence of fellow-guests without -ostensible movable property, and forthwith they began to note the -value and fashion of each article of the feminine newcomers' wardrobe, -and the general look of the men. One of these appeared about thirty, -available for flirtation and social uses; while the other was older, -with a suspicion of grey in the short close-cut whisker--a florid and -well-fed man, and seemingly well to do, which was a point in favour of -his female following: and a point of some sort is needed where -available men to marriageable girls stand in the proportion of only -two to five. - -Two oldish ladies brought up the number of the arrivals to six; but as -they were dressed in the ordinary manner of the period, nobody noticed -them much. They were mere furniture, intended to remain in corners, -and be sat beside when younger women, finding themselves neglected, -chose to assume demureness under the wing of a chaperon. - -"Two trunks. Those! Valise, handbag, rugs, and umbrellas." It was the -younger man who was addressing the porter. - -"Oh, Peter!" cried the oldest lady, "have you my parrysol?--and my -book?--and my scent-bottle?--and my spectacle-case? Where can they all -be?" - -"You've just left them behind you, mother, as usual. You would have -left yourself, I do believe, if I had not been at your elbow." - -"What am I to do for want of my parrysol? Between the hot sun and the -sea air, every bit of colour will be eaten out of my blue ribbons, and -my face just brandered like a raw beef-steak. I wonder if the little -things can have gotten into my pockets!" And so saying, she stepped -forth upon the gravel, where elbow-room was free, shook out her -skirts, and proceeded to dive down deep into apertures she wot of in -all parts of her circumference. - -"What's this?" she cried, sinking over the elbow into a pocket on the -far-off side. "What can it be?" And the eyes and eyeglasses in the -galleries were turned in her direction; while Peter, half wroth and -half amused, stood waiting the end of her search. - -"It's terrible hard to grip. But there! Now! I've cornered it at last. -Can it be livin', I wonder? The way it runs about! And I canna just -lay finger on it." - -"A mouse, mother, is it?" He was growing cross and sarcastic under the -observation of the loungers. "Out with it! Here's a terrier ready to -snap it up." - -"Peter Wilkie, hold your peace! Would ye make fun of your own mother, -and all thae impident Yankees looking on? Think shame! Hey! here it is -at last, the bothersome thing!" And out it came, proving to be only a -large-sized peppermint-drop. - -"Toot! that's not what I was looking for. Here, my dear!" and without -more ado she popped it into the open mouth of a small boy who stood by -gaping at her in her search, to his complete confusion and the -increased diversion of the gallery. - -"See there, Peter! If that's no' the parrysol after all, tied up with -the umbrellies! Just where it should be! And me hunting for it -everywhere! I wonder you didn't see it! And here's the specs and the -scent-bottle all the time in the ridicule at my side! Wonders will -never cease. As for the book, it'll turn up ere I want it; and if -anybody took it, they'll be little made up, for it's just Beattie's -Lectures on the Ten Commandments, and very hard upon the sin of -stealing. And, Peter, be sure and make the landlord give us rooms upon -the first floor. I _can-not_ be climbing stairs--it brings on the -palpitations." - -Meanwhile the other tenants of the omnibus had alighted and entered -the house. "A man with a sickly wife and a couple of daughters," was -the verdict upon the party, which was only rectified by reference to -the house-register after they had catalogued themselves--"Joseph -Naylor, Mrs Caleb Naylor, and the Misses Naylor, all of Jones's -Landing, Upper Canada." - -"Oh, girls, I am exhausted! Open the windows and the trunks. Hartshorn -and sal-volatile! I shall faint--I am sure I shall faint. Margaret, -get ready to go down with your uncle. Lucy, my child, you must remain -with me." - -"Stuff and nonsense, Maria!" said the uncle. They were being shown -their rooms up-stairs. "You have only to exert yourself. That's all -you require to set you up. And of course you must come down to dinner. -The sight of so many strangers will do you good, and we shall want -your help to make up our minds about the company." - -Mrs Naylor shook her head in plaintive toleration. It was not to be -expected that coarse-fibred masculinity should comprehend the -susceptibility of her delicate nerves. She half-closed her eyes and -sank into a chair, with every appearance of taking up her quarters for -good--unless, indeed, she should have to be laid upon the adjoining -bed. - -Joseph, standing impatiently without, grew uneasy, as perhaps was -intended. He was of an anxious temper, fussy as well as kind. The -responsibility of having a delicate lady on his hands oppressed him. -He had groaned under the load for years, but he had not got used to -it. It oppressed him ever the more, the longer he endured it, and he -was overridden by the whims and complaints of this relict of his -deceased brother, even more than if she had been wife of his own. - -"Pray try, sister--try. It is for your health we are here, you know. -It will be distressing if you begin by taking to your bed. I feel -confident that a morsel of dinner and a glass of sparkling wine will -do you good." - -I will not say that it was the suggestion of the wine which induced -Mrs Naylor to change her purpose; it may only have been willingness to -yield to entreaty. At any rate, she let herself be persuaded, though -not too easily, and eventually went downstairs with the rest. - -At dinner they shared a table with their fellow-travellers of the -omnibus, and found Mr Wilkie and his mother already placed when they -entered. - -"Mother," Peter had been saying, "you will have to behave here, or you -will compromise me before all those Toronto people. If they carry back -a tale of queer doings on our part, you will find it harder than ever -to get into society when we go home. There is Mrs Judge Petty with her -son and daughter, and there Colonel and Mrs Carraway, and the -Vice-Chancellor Chickenpips! Mind what you are about. This is not the -Gallowgate of Glasgow--remember that! If they see you biting your -bread or eating with your knife, you're done for; and so am I." - -"Peter Wilkie, I wonder ye can have the heart to be speaking like that -to your dying mother!--bringing on the palpitations worse than ever. -Oh, my heart! it's just thumping. If I did take lodgers at one -time--ay, and turn the mangle with my own hands--whose sake was it -done for? Tell me that. I wonder where the money would have come from -to pay for your fine edication if I had chosen to sit and drink my tea -in the afternoons like a feckless leddy, as I might have done! It -wasn't your bankrupt father, danderin' about the doors hand-idle, that -could have helped you. I just slaved with that mangle and the lodgers -to bring up my boay; and now, when he is in a splendid way of doing, -this is the thanks he gives me--to cast the Gallowgate up to me! As if -it wasna you, and your father before you, that brought me down to -that! Think shame of yourself, Peter Wilkie!" And the big round tears -came rattling in a very hailstorm out of the old blue eyes, leaving -watercourses among her ribbons, and mingling with the gravy in her -plate, till the son felt like a brute--or at least he should have felt -so; and he certainly feared that he must appear like one in the eyes -of any fellow-guest who might observe him. - -The entrance of the Naylors made a welcome diversion. As they took -their places the old woman's tears dried up of themselves, her eyes -being withdrawn from the inward contemplation of her own distresses to -the lace cap of Mrs Naylor and the gowns of her daughters. -Unconsciously she sat up more squarely in her chair, prinked out her -cap-strings, and wondered if Mrs Naylor's hair could be all her own; -while her son and the gentleman exchanged an observation on the -journey they had made together. - -Mrs Naylor was not only of the Provinces, but provincial at that. Like -other "leading ladies" of Jones's Landing, she was wont to inform -strangers that she was "very exclusive," with the gratifying result of -taking away their breath; though perhaps, if she had but known, it was -the stupendous conceit which could imagine herself or her circle in -the smallest degree desirable, rather than the splendour of her -position which astonished them. She had no small opinion of her -"position," but, like other rural great ones, she bowed in her heart -before the superiority of dwellers in the capital. There was a -grandeur in their way of accepting her pretensions, while setting them -calmly aside, which filled her with admiring awe on her rare visits to -Toronto--made her rave about its elegance, and try to play off in -Jones's Landing some of the mannerisms she had found so impressive. -And here it may be observed that, in its way, Toronto is a capital, -even as New York is, or London, and quite as accustomed as either to -put on metropolitan airs, so far as circumstances permit; and seeing -that all mankind are made of one kind of clay, there may be less -difference in the spirit which animates the small community and the -great one than would appear. A cock-boat is built of the same -materials as a man-of-war, and it is floated and steered in accordance -with the same laws of nature. - -At a distant table Mrs Naylor descried Mrs Justice Petty, Mrs -Vice-Chancellor Chickenpip, and Mrs Carraway--the very cream of -Toronto society. Ice-cream, alas! they were likely to prove to Mrs -Naylor, as she did not know them, and they made a point of not thawing -to unknown fellow-country-women whom they met in American hotels--it -being difficult to shake them off afterwards, especially the -undesirable ones. So far, indeed, did those ladies' prudence carry -them, that they would only bathe at eccentric hours and in secretly -arranged parties. The very sea should not receive them in the same -embrace with persons from Canada who were not in Society. As for -Americans, it did not matter: they might never meet them again, and -Americans are held to be a peculiar people, without social degrees or -defined lines of demarcation. Everybody among them may be anybody, and -each is expected to have a spice of everything. Among them, vulgarity, -if they have any, is overlooked. They are generally amusing, often -rich, and cannot compromise a Canadian. - -Mrs Naylor's eye, surveying the company, lighted on her distinguished -compatriots. She knew them, although she had not the happiness of -being acquainted with them--a humbling thought, which made her -approach with more meekness than otherwise she might have felt, the -two people from Toronto who shared her table. If not the rose, they at -least grew near it, and might--who knew?--be woven into a link of -connection with the queen of flowers. She addressed a polite -observation to the old lady, who, accepting it as a tribute to her -clever son and her own good looks, responded affably, as not unwilling -to confer the favour of her notice, though aware that it was a thing -of value. - -And so it came about that, when dinner was over, the Naylor party and -the Wilkies had coalesced, and strolled together to a shady corner of -the galleries, where broad awnings, flapping in fitful air-currents, -lent a little freshness to the languor of the hot and drowsy -afternoon. - - - - - CHAPTER III. - - THE FIRST EVENING. - - -When the sweltering hours of afternoon have passed on westward, and -the shadows creep out to meet the coming twilight in the east, there -is an arousing in the world comparable to the quickening which passes -across it at the opening of each new day. The air, too languid, an -hour since, to lift the drooping streamer on the flag-staff, awakens -into flutterings which set the aspen-leaves in the shrubbery spinning -gleefully upon their slender stalks. The watch-dog rattling his chain -emerges from his kennel, stretching and blinking, and yawning his -formidable jaws. The interest of living steals slowly back on him, and -ere long he is amusing himself with a half-gnawed bone, his eyes fixed -upon the kitchen-door, whence supper and the cook are wont to visit -him. - -There are stirrings and rustlings in the long silent passages and -chambers of the hotel. The life of the inmates, which had burned low, -like charcoal-embers in the thick hot stillness, lights up in the -eddies of cooler air which flutter in, and brightens into flame. The -sleepers draw themselves together where they lie on swing, in hammock, -on couch, or deeply cushioned chair, and open their eyes and start and -are awake, inhale the freshness of the sea-salt air, and the house is -alive once more with the stirring of its inmates, like a clock which -had run down, but is now wound up and set agoing. - -Old Mrs Wilkie had been surprised by sleep as she lay back in a long -cane chair, preliminary to getting up and seeking the privacy of her -chamber. Her feet had been raised on the further end of the seductive -invention for barely a second, when, with a sigh, her head fell -backward, leaving the lips apart, and plunging her in deep sweet -gurgling slumber, which echoed purlingly along the silent gallery, -like sounds of hidden brooks in shady dells. - -She started now, and, wheeling round, sat bolt-upright, in haste to -hide among her skirts the broad prunella shoes which had stood up -before her like a massive screen, concealing her foreshortened figure -from intrusive eyes. - -"Peter Wilkie! are you sleeping? Come here," were the first words she -spoke on opening her eyes. There was crossness in her voice, and her -face was aflush with anger, or perhaps with lingering sleep. "I wish -you would speak to that impertinent Yankee woman over there. What -business has she looking at me like that? It's my feet she's trying to -see, I do believe." - -"They're big enough to be plainly seen without much trying, mother. -But never mind, I'll back them to gang their ain gate against hers or -anybody's. Why did you not go to your room, as I advised you, instead -of exhibiting yourself like a sleeping beauty before the whole house?" - -"I just fell asleep before I knew; and it's like your father's son to -be jawing and jeering when I'm too poorly to take my own part," and -she pressed her side. "Sleeping beauty, quothy! It'll be telling ye, -my man, if any scart of a wife ye may pick up in this unwholesome -country keeps her looks half as well when she comes to my time of -life;" and having secured the last word, she withdrew to smooth her -tumbled hair and prepare for the next meal. - -There was a general rolling up of awnings and opening of shutters all -over the house. Doors and windows were thrown open, and whisperings -from the sea stole in everywhere, bringing freshness and gaiety where -sloth and prostration had brooded all the afternoon. The sounds of -laughter and tripping feet echoed on the stairs, and presently the -whole body of guests come out from supper were assembled in the -parlours. There were three parlours, connected with each other by -folding-doors. Only one was carpeted, to be ready for rainy days at -the end of the season. The boards of the other two were bare, like the -holystoned deck of a steamer; and, with their open windows descending -to the floor, they had the appearance of sheltered continuations of -the gallery without, rather than of rooms, they were so sweet and -fresh and spacious. - -Round the pianos, or rather one of them, the crowd gathered. A -Bostonian, the pet of the ladies and the aversion of the other young -men, seated himself before it and began to play. He played, as the -male amateur is wont to play, with abundant sound--eliciting admiring -whispers as to the energy of his touch, and acquitting himself -successfully, though by no means with the brilliancy he himself -supposed. Ere long he slid into a waltz, and then the crowd broke up -into its component parts. Those who could find a partner began to -dance, those who desired one looked about or waited to be asked, while -the elders withdrew to the carpeted drawing-room. - -Those first to reach it having secured the rocking-chairs, the -remainder had to sit still,--all, that is, but Miss Maida Springer, a -school-ma'am, the gossips said, from Vermont--a lady of questionable -youth but indubitable independence of character, who tilted her chair -till its back touched the wall, and swung her feet in a plenitude of -sedentary exercise such as no rocker could afford. - -Mrs Judge Petty was one of the first to reach the drawing-room and -install herself in a comfortable place. Having done so, she had -leisure to look round and consider how the places near her should be -filled. Her eye lighted on Mrs Wilkie drifting doubtfully on the -stream, and, fixing her with an encouraging smile, drew her forward, -and landed her with a turn of the eyelid on a sofa at her elbow. - -Mrs Naylor followed close upon her new acquaintance, and Mrs Petty, -feeling no desire to know _her_, would fain have staved her off with a -chilling stare; but Mrs Naylor could play burr on occasion, and knew -how to disregard what it would be inconvenient to see. She stuck to -her friend, and made small-talk whilst settling herself by her side; -and Mrs Wilkie, though eager to meet the advances of the more -worshipful lady, was too unskilful to refrain from answering her -assiduous companion. It was tantalising. Circumstances through life -had kept her far off from the judges and magnates of her native land; -and now, when she was abroad, and at last in clover--when great ones -were actually seeking her acquaintance--to think that a quite ordinary -person should intrusively interfere! It made her cross, and her -replies grew short and dry; but, alas! to no good purpose--for though -Mrs Naylor could be silenced by taciturnity, Mrs Petty had turned away -her head in the meantime, and was interesting herself in other things. - -Mrs Wilkie flushed and fretted; Mrs Naylor sat and bided her time. She -had two girls to bring out and marry well--enterprises in which -patience and ability to eat humble-pie speed better than more -brilliant qualities. She sat by Mrs Wilkie, keeping her company, -though neither spoke. Their eyes were occupied with the moving crowd -of dancers in the distance, as they whirled and floated on the tide of -sound. - -After a while Mrs Petty turned round to her neighbour and observed, "I -think I see Mr Wilkie--your son, is he not?--dancing with my daughter -Ann. A good height, are they not, for each other? They really look -very well." - -"Most girls look well dancing with my Peter--Mr Wilkie, I ought to -say, for we can't look on a young man in his fine position as just a -boy; though, to be sure, he will always be a boy to me. Eh!--the -trouble I had with him in his teething! I can never forget that, and -the day we put on his first pair of little trousers. I made them -myself out of a bit of black-and-red tartan. And now, to see him -'dancing in the hall,' as the song says, with all the finest girls in -the room just scuffling to get a catch of him." - -Mrs Petty was scarcely gratified at the remark, but she was amused; -and as we grow older on this humdrum planet, to be amused befalls one -so seldom that it compensates for much, even for a lack of proper -respect--so she acquiesced. - -"Yes," she said, "Mr Petty--Judge Petty, you know, my husband--says he -thinks highly of your son, and expects him to do very well. I too have -met him, and like the little I have seen; and now apparently he has -made the acquaintance of Ann, and they seem to get on together very -nicely." - -"Oh yes," chuckled the mother, "he's a great boy with the girls, our -Peter. They're all pulling caps to see who's going to get him. I -just----" - -"Hm!" coughed Mrs Petty, in haste to interrupt before anything worse -had been said of the girls, among whom her own daughter seemed -audaciously to be included. "Oh yes, an excellent young man. I have -scarcely met him, but I hope to see more of him next winter, and I am -very pleased to meet his mother." - -Whereat the other bridled and was happy. How well it would read in her -next letter to her husband--hid away somewhere in Scotland, and never -alluded to--to mention Mr Justice Petty and his family among her -intimate friends! - -"Don't you think my daughter Ann is looking her best this evening?" -the younger mother went on. "So animated. She is perhaps too tranquil -in general. 'Statuesque' was how young Lord Norman described her, when -he passed through Toronto last spring. And really she is clever, -though ill-natured people say she has no conversation. When she gets -hold of a clever man who can understand, see! she positively rattles." - -"Oh yes, Peter generally makes the girls rattle. He's very quick about -sounding them. Terrible empty, though, he says he generally finds -them;" which was a remark she should have spared her new friend, in -view of the elation she felt in making the acquaintance; but Peter was -her monomania. With his name on her lips, the words would come of -themselves, without judgment or consideration. - -"There is my son Walter, too," Mrs Petty continued, taking no notice. -"Dancing, I declare, instead of smoking out of doors. A positive -achievement on the part of that young lady, if she only knew. A very -handsome girl, and nicely dressed; but I do not seem to have observed -her before--must have arrived to-day." - -"So she did," answered Mrs Wilkie. "That's--dear me! how bad my memory -is growing!" - -"Miss Naylor," volunteered her mother. "Niece of Joseph Naylor of -Jones's Landing." - -"The great lumberman? In--deed!" said Mrs Petty, interested and -impressed. "I did not hear of her arrival. I wonder if _he_ is coming! -The richest bachelor in Upper Canada, I understand. It is a risky -business, but still----. One likes to see a celebrity." - -"He is here," his sister-in-law observed. "We arrived this afternoon." - -Mrs Petty turned her eyes, and for the first time permitted them to be -seen resting on the stranger, addressing her with much politeness at -the same time. "Then perhaps you are related to the beautiful girl who -is dancing with my son?" - -"She is my daughter Margaret. I am Mrs Caleb Naylor." - -"So happy to know you, Mrs Naylor," and forthwith the mothers -conversed freely across Mrs Wilkie and over her head, on subjects in -which it was impossible for her to join, though many were her abortive -attempts to put in an oar. Even Mrs Naylor, whose chit-chat she had -stifled with her taciturnity half an hour before, was now grown deaf -and unresponsive to anything she could say. - - - - - CHAPTER IV. - - THE PERILS OF SURF-BATHING. - - -When the day is young and the sky is blue, with just a flake or two of -cloud low down on the horizon; when the sea, in purple slumber like a -dreaming child, is brightened by the flickering glance and shadow on -its rippling swell--and the surf, cresting itself in a wall of -translucent green, leaps up and curls and topples over, crumbling in -snow-white foam upon the sand; when the breeze, still gleeful with the -memory of dew and starlit revels overnight, flits fresh and crisp -beneath the early sunshine,--it is then that it is good to be a -dweller by the shore: to spring from the unconsciousness of sleep into -the luxury of sentient being, with softly fanning airs curling about -the limbs, and wakening in them all their suppleness and strength. - -Obeying the summons of the early gong, the young and vigorous of the -guests of the hotel had hastened to the bathing-houses on the beach, -and now came forth a gay and motley company. They were dressed in -suits of red, blue, orange, green, and grey, with hats of straw or -caps of oilskin, or only falling hair by way of head-dress. White -ankles twinkled all along the sand, and the air was musical with -laughter, as they scampered down and halted by the margin of the white -sea-foam,--ladies and men distinguishable only by their hair or beard, -or by less or greater bulk. They arranged themselves like a necklace -of brightly coloured beads, where great and small alternated with each -other. Each smaller figure was attended by one of the sturdy kind, as -though they were about to dance. The surf along that coast breaks in -such massive billows, that the little and the weak can scarce bear up -alone against the whelming rush, or keep their footing. They are -liable to be thrown down by an advancing roller, turned over when it -breaks, sucked outward in the reflux, and carried beyond their depth. - -The party joined hands, and then stepped out into the foam, a -string of forty beads, to bind the bosom of the next big wave, so -green and smooth and glassy; but as it yet came on, so huge and -impressive with its crest of foam, like the tossing manes of Pharaoh's -chariot-horses, the line outstepping stopped and wavered and bent, as -one panic-stricken near the centre suddenly bounded back, and left the -wings of the line turned sidewise and irresolute, while the wave was -sweeping up indifferent to the doubts and fears of mortals. It swept -upon the wings all unprepared to meet it, lifting them from their feet -and throwing them down, and dabbling them in the wreck of foam and -sand. - -"Oh, Lucy Naylor! that was not fair!--to spring back suddenly and -leave us in the lurch!" rang out from several pairs of feminine lips. -"I will not bathe with you again, if you go on so." But the laughter -of those who were amused at the disaster overbore the displeasure of -the remonstrants; and it being Lucy's first morning, she was forgiven -on promising to be more courageous. - -The line formed up once more, and stepped out steadily to meet the -next invader; and on he came, a smooth green hill, with the frothing -and hissing water gathering on the summit like the gnashing teeth of -an advancing monster. The line stood still, with spreading feet, bent -knee, and breath held in. The monster was upon them, and with a little -cry from here and there along the line, smothered and drowned and -overwhelmed in the hissing deluge as it heaved above them, and with a -thunderous roar, it broke up upon the shore behind them, and then drew -back again in hurrying, seething foam, and left the line still -standing. And then there was a sob or two, and a cry, followed by -laughter and little screams of delight The cool sea water had drenched -their shrinking frames, the saltness prickled exhilaratingly on the -skin, and it was, as some one said, "just altogether too delightful." - -Again the line was formed, and again. Even the timid ones had grown -courageous. The least expert had learned to shoulder and resist the -coming waves. The world was all coolness and freshness and sparkle, -and each new wave was plunged into with a relish keener than the last, -when came a new disturbance or alarm, more pressing and more vehement -than even the onslaught of the billows upon the inexperienced. It -sounded from the shore, a voice addressing them in accents shrill and -clamorous. They ceased their sport and turned, and beheld a figure -with flushed cheeks, no bonnet, her hair disordered, and her cap -askew, with ribbons fluttering wildly in the breeze. - -"Peter Wilkie!" it cried--"Peter Wilkie! Do ye not hear your mother -crying to ye, fit to crack her voice? Let go that woman's hand, and -come out ower this moment!--Peter! Do you hear me? Leave go, and come -out ower. To think that I should live to see the proper up-bringing I -have spared no pains to give ye, circumvented and brought to nothing -by a set of shameless hempies like this!--and you just danderin' in -the middle of them, like a fool goin' to the correction of the -stocks!" - -Mr Peter passed through many phases of feeling while he was being -addressed. First, he was ashamed for his mother's sake. He would fain -have taken no notice, and plunged with his companions into the coming -wave, in hopes that others would do the same, and every one's -attention be withdrawn. Then he grew angry, and endeavoured to laugh -off the intrusion as a quaint absurdity; but as the old lady's voice -rose higher, and an audible titter ran along the line on either side -of him, he realised that he must close the scene at once, on any -terms. To outface the clamour was manifestly impossible, while to -yield would at least bring the scolding to an end. With a shrug and a -scowl, which he strove to hide behind a cough, and an acid smile, he -stepped ashore, took his mother's hand, all dripping as he was, and -led her away behind the bathing-houses, where, let us hope, an -understanding and a reconciliation were effected. - -The interest of the bathers being thus disturbed, many began to feel -chilly and to think they had had enough. Only the few who were good -swimmers cared to remain, and these struck out beyond the ruin of -breakers, to disport themselves above the placid depths beyond. - -In the unbroken water outside, they could frolic at will, diving, -floating, treading water, or swimming further seaward. Naylor, the -uncle of his nieces, who have been mentioned, was one of the eagerest -of all. A man no longer young, but with no sign of coming age save a -thinning of the hair above his temples. Well nourished and prosperous -of aspect, and five feet nine or so in height; broad-shouldered, -muscular, and active, with cheery grey eyes, and a face burnt red by -the sun. His spirits rose with the increasing coolness of the water, -as he swam out and out; and from the sedate middle-aged person he had -been on shore, he seemed changed into a hilarious youth among his new -associates, challenging those near him to strange feats and gambols, -laughing and shouting like a schoolboy. - -Suddenly, with a cry, he threw up his hands, and sank beneath the -surface. - -"Not a bad imitation of a drowning man; but I wish he would not do it -out here, where the water is deep. It isn't half funny. It spoils -one's stroke, and makes me feel heavy and weak," some one said. - -"I am not sure that it was imitation," answered another--a lady this -one. "He may have a cramp. Watch when he rises." - -Presently his head emerged gasping from the depths, and Miss Hillyard, -the lady who had spoken, swam to him, and was able to get her fingers -into his hair, just as he was beginning to sink again, and lifted his -head an inch or two for a moment, calling wildly on the others at the -same time to come to her assistance. - -"Strike out!" she cried to the drowning man, tugging his hair again, -and feeling her own poise seriously endangered by the effort. "What is -the matter with you?" - -"Cramp," he gasped. "Help me on my back. Perhaps I may manage to -float." - -"Help! Mr Sefton, help!" screamed the lady; and Mr Sefton, who was -hurrying forward, was able to get a hand under the sinking man's chin -on the other side, before he had drawn his other would-be rescuer -under. - -"Hold on now, Miss Hillyard! Don't hurry. Be calm. Steady yourself. -Keep cool. We'll manage it. Trust to the water.... Good! He is up. -Have a care, now. He may clutch without meaning it. Keep clear of his -arms.... Steady, friend. Can't you do something for yourself?" - -"I can't. Help me on my back. I cannot strike out one bit. I can -hardly straighten my leg. Ugh!... Never fear, madam, I won't lay hold -on you. Can you help me on my back, do you think? Never mind if you -can't do it. Let go if you feel yourself sinking. One is enough to go -to the bottom." - -With teeth tight set, he straightened out his limbs, and held them -motionless; and by-and-by they succeeded in getting him on his back, -and began to tow and steer him to the shore. - -Fortunately the tide had not yet turned. It was rising still; so the -water helped them on their long and tardy voyage. - -It was an arduous and a tedious task, and but for the tranquil -coolness of the man they were trying to save, it would have been -beyond their power, as they had been a long way out when the accident -occurred. As they approached the surf-line, however, their labour grew -lighter, and presently the heaving swell caught hold of them and swung -them forward with accelerating speed, as though the hungry ocean, -balked of his intended prey, had grown eager to reject the victim he -had failed to drown. Surging and swinging on the translucent tide, -they were borne forward more and more swiftly, and were shot at last -through the curling and overarching bank of surf into shallow water, -where the crowd, which had been watching on the beach, ran in and -dragged the exhausted trio ashore. - -"Uncle!" cried his nieces, laying hold on him, all dripping as he was, -and bestowing hugs of congratulation. "You venturesome old man! How -rash to go swimming out so far, this very first morning!" - -"I should have been done for, if it had not been for this young lady. -I would wish to thank you, madam, if I could find words; but when it -is one's life that has been saved, one does not know how properly to -express it." - -"Pray say nothing," said Miss Hillyard, looking calm and handsome even -in her dripping bathing-dress, her arms so white and strong and -shapely folded on her breast, and the long dark hair hanging like a -mantle down her back. "Do not say a word. Any one who was able to swim -must have done the same. I am glad that I was near at the moment, and -able to be of use." - -And then the bathers dispersed to get dried and dressed, leaving the -beach to the waves and the sea-birds undisturbed. - -Joseph Naylor was an object of interest for the remainder of that day -to all Clam Beach, as the man who had been all but drowned; but Miss -Hillyard was the heroine for the rest of the season. She had saved a -life, and the circumstances grew more marvellous from day to day, as -each narrator in turn strove to give thrill to the only tale of peril -he had ever assisted at; till at length the young lady, growing bored -with the wondering respect it brought her, and which was far from -being the form of admiration in which she took pleasure, began to deny -the incident altogether, and assure people that it had never taken -place. - - - - - CHAPTER V. - - ROSE AND LETTICE. - - -However indifferent or even nauseous applause become familiar may -ultimately grow, it is intensely agreeable while it is yet new. Only -with time and habitude does it begin, like other sweets, to pall upon -the healthy appetite. Miss Hillyard, on the day of her exploit, -distinctly enjoyed the feeling that all eyes followed her, and that -other conversation was hushed whenever she chose to speak. It was an -ovation with which she was favoured on coming down to breakfast. Every -one who knew her was waiting with congratulations to extol her pluck, -and those who did not, were striving to be introduced. - -Her friends felt an accession of importance in belonging to her; and -Mrs Senator Deane of Indiana, under whose wing she was travelling, -secured a carriage for a drive along the shore, so soon as breakfast -was over, to keep the distinction of the heroine's intimacy secure in -her own party. - -Notoriety in a hotel, or anywhere else, grows cheap when the noted one -is to be met upon the stairs and on doorsteps all day long, and can be -accosted and questioned by every comer, while a morning of privacy -could not fail to increase general interest in the whole party. The -exploit was sure to be talked over without reserve in their absence, -and on their return each member of the community would be affected -with the general enthusiasm which his own contribution had done -something to augment. - -"Tell us all about it now, Rose, from the very beginning," cried -Lettice Deane, catching both her hands, as soon as they had driven -from the door. "I am dying to hear everything, now we are out of that -inquisitive crowd--Yankees with their straight out questions, and -Canucks with that wooden British way of theirs, staring without a wink -and saying nothing, but drinking in everything with their eyes. Give -me Western folks after all, say I. One knows what they are and how to -deal with them from the first. These down-Easters, with their -intelligence, and their conceit, and their determination to know all -about it, make me feel like a potato-bug on the end of a pin, under a -microscope. I like folks that are smart, but the cultured intelligence -of Boston is just something too awful." - -"But decent Canadians do not ask questions." - -"I wish they would. They are always looking them--with eyes made -round, ears erect, and mouth ajar. I'd like to shake some of them." - -"Stuff! Lettie. I am Canadian, please remember." - -"You are different. You have lived in Chicago; and that cures most -things. But tell us now!--all about it. How did it begin?" - -"Begin? Let me see. We were all out together in the deep water, having -a social swim, and showing each other what we could do. Mr Sefton had -just picked up a shell from the bottom--quite a pretty one, too, it -seemed--and was swimming up to give it me, when we heard a cry; and -when I turned round, I was just in time to see a hand disappearing -under water. You can scarcely fancy the uncomfortable thrill it gave -me. At once I remembered the octopus they say was cast ashore last -week at St John's, with arms a yard or two long, all covered with -suckers, and I began to think of cold slimy things in the water, -twisting about me and pulling me down. It took all my nerve, and the -certainty that if I yielded to panic, I should sink, to compose me; -when bobbing up to the surface came a head of hair, not five yards -off. That calmed me. It gave me something to do." - -"How brave you are, Rose! With me, now, the sight of a drowning man -would have scared me out of my wits." - -"You cannot swim, Lettie. That is why you think so." - -"And then? What did you do next?" - -"As soon as I could get near enough, I got my fingers into his hair, -and pulled--just a little, then slipped my hand under his shoulder. He -got his face above water then, and he began to paddle with his hands." - -"And were you not afraid?" - -"Well, just a little bit, perhaps, at first. I dreaded his clutching -at me. That would have made a finish of us both." - -"And did he not? And how could you have prevented it, if he had -tried?" - -"He did not once attempt to clutch--seemed most careful, indeed, to -keep his hands away. Lettie! He is a perfect gentleman, that man!--and -brave, I am sure, He thanked me so politely--by-and-by, when he got -his face clear of the water for a bit--as politely as if we had both -been on dry land--for attempting to assist him; but said he thought I -had better let go, as I could not possibly swim ashore with him, and -he could do nothing for himself, owing to cramp in his legs. Then -Sefton joined us, and together we got him on his back. You cannot -imagine how cheerful and composed he was, all through. He actually -smiled when our eyes met. Not a struggle did he make, or an attempt to -lay hold, which made it far more possible for us to deal with him. If -he _had_ struggled, you know, we should certainly have been drowned, -all three." - -"Don't talk of it, Rose. It is just splendid the way you managed it -all, and I am glad to think the man must be a pretty good sort; for -you will have to know him, I suppose, after saving his life, and you -will be introducing him to mother and me and Fanny. Pity he is so old. -Thirty or forty, is he not, mother?" - -"More'n forty, I reckon. Rising forty-five, if he wears well. But even -fifty ain't old for a marrying man--if he's well off, that is. My -senator was not much younger when we made it up between us. I don't -hold with very young men myself. They're real hard to break in for -runnin' in double harness, and the money's still to make, ginnerally -speakin'. And after the girl has slaved and pinched all through her -best years, helping to make the fortune, she finds herself too old -when it's made to get much good out of it. Don't you be a fool, -Lettie, like my sister Barbara. She vowed she'd have a man to please -her eye, even if he should vex her heart.... _And_ she got him! And -she never had a day's peace from the week their honeymoon ended. She -died a brokenhearted woman, with nary bit of life or good looks left -in five years' time." - -"Pshaw, mother! If you've told that story once, you've told it fifty -times. The fellow I agree to take will have to be well off, as well as -young and good-looking. See if he isn't!" - -"You'll have to look sharp then, Lettie. After twenty-five, a girl has -to take what offers, or go without." - -"You shut, Fan! School-girls are growing real forward, it seems to -me." - - - - - CHAPTER VI. - - WITH THE SMOKERS. - - -Joseph Naylor found himself a notoriety for that day, as much as the -heroine who had saved his life. It was notoriety, however, with a -difference, as compared with hers--less incense-like and intoxicating, -though perhaps more tonic. - -The Hebrew prophetess makes it the culmination of Sisera's overthrow -that he, a warrior, should have been done to death by a woman; and -even for the non-combatant there is something ungrateful to manly -pride in owing life to a member of the weaker sex. The debt is too -heavy to be repaid; and it is conventionally settled that obligation -between the sexes should lie the other way. It could scarcely be -agreeable to his self-love to feel himself pointed out among his -fellows as the man who had gone in swimming that morning, and who -would have drowned himself, if a brave young lady had not gone to his -rescue and fished him out. - -Mrs Carraway surveyed him through her glasses in the interval between -her omelet and the robin-on-toast which constituted her breakfast. The -sight of a should-have-been drowned gentleman communicated a marine -flavour to the little bird, suggestive of oyster-sauce with boiled -turkey,--a dish which was not on the bill of fare, and therefore the -more delicious. She sent her colonel, after breakfast, to make friends -with the interesting creature, and get exact particulars of how it had -occurred, at first hand,--rather to the botheration of that tranquil -warrior, who, since he had made his home in the Colonies, had for the -most part practised an affable silence. If natives who approached him -were to his liking, he accepted their advances, and graciously -permitted himself to be courted; if they were not, he kept stolidly -oblivious of their existence, no matter how pressing their overtures -of friendship might be. - -It is by no means a bad way of getting easily through life, provided -you can persuade people that you are worth courting. That is the -difficulty. People worth knowing can generally find better sport than -cultivating your Worship; but even if they do attempt it, the game -will grow monotonous ere long, on the one side as well as the other. -One can fancy that Royalty itself must yawn behind a fan at times, in -weariness of uninterrupted adulation. - -It was a bore to so reserved a gentleman as Colonel Carraway to -break through his own ice; however, he lighted a cigar and strolled -away to the gallery facing the north, and always shady, where inmates -addicted to tobacco were wont to smoke. Naylor had arrived there -before him, and stood the centre of a group in which Judge Petty and -Vice-Chancellor Chickenpip vied with each other in displaying their -forensic gift of unwearied question-asking--a talent which they made -it manifest had not grown rusty from disuse since their elevation to -the bench. - -"I never experienced the sensation of drowning," the Judge was -observing. "Being unable to swim, I never was in danger of it." - -"And yet," said the Vice-Chancellor, with a shrug at the little -paradox, and eyeing the perpetrator with condescending superiority -through his spectacles, as the self-constituted wit is apt to do when -his neighbour attempts a sally, "we teach our boys to swim in order to -prepare them against such dangers." - -"And they rashly tempt them in consequence, and so, not unfrequently, -get drowned. For myself, I have all my life had a cat's antipathy to -water--always excepting, of course, my morning tub." - -"So your lordship's detractors of the blue-ribbon sect have sometimes -insinuated," chuckled the other, delighted to be disagreeable by -way of jest, however threadbare in form the jest might be. The -Vice-Chancellor owed his reputation for smartness to his talent for -ill-nature. The dullest can appreciate malice, while wit which is -merely sportive requires a sense of humour to understand it. - -The Judge was familiar with the idiosyncrasy of his learned brother. -"What need one expect from a pig but a grunt!" was his inward -exclamation; but he was wise enough not to give it utterance. He -merely moved nearer to Naylor, thereby half turning his back upon the -other. - -"I have always felt curious," he said, "to know what drowning, or, -indeed, dying in any form, could be like--without personal experiment, -that is. How did it feel, Mr Naylor? What were your sensations?" - -"It did not get the length of drowning with me this time. I was a deal -too busy struggling for my life, I can tell you, to take much heed of -sensations. When at last I got my nose above water, and felt the young -lady's fingers twisted in my hair, she was behaving in such splendid -style that I could think of nothing but her efforts to help me. If she -had not kept cool, you know, instead of drawing me up she would have -been drawn down herself; and, crippled and sinking as I was, I could -have done nothing to save her. My mind was completely absorbed in -watching her efforts, admiring her nerve, and wondering if she would -really succeed in keeping afloat. As for saving me, I did not think it -possible; for, all the time, that racking cramp kept dragging my leg -together, in spite of my straining efforts to stretch it, and drawing -me to the bottom like tons of lead. Those cramps are hideous things; -and then, after she and Mr Sefton had taken me in tow, and the anxiety -for her safety grew less absorbing, the drowning man's instinct of -clutching came upon me, and it was all I could do to keep still, and -let myself be saved. You are perfectly right, Judge, to keep clear of -the possibility of such an experience; but still, this experience was -quite different from the feeling of drowning--the helpless struggling -and sinking down and away, the yielding of what sustains you on every -side, till the idea of up and down is lost in dizziness, while the -held-in breath seems bursting you asunder. You bear it for hardly a -minute, but that minute lasts an age; and then--and then--no one can -describe what follows. You are confused, and benumbed, and melting -into nothing. I have gone through it. - -"A ship I sailed in, when I was a young man, was run down one foggy -night off the coast of Cuba. It was my watch on deck, and that is how -I am here to tell the tale. The look-out gave no warning till we were -close under the bow of a Spanish man-of-war bearing straight down on -us. I shouted to port the helm. It was too late. The Spaniard was into -us with a crash. He stove in our quarter, and sent us to the bottom. I -was knocked down by the falling rigging, and found myself in the -water, entangled among cordage, and drowning as I have described. I -know nothing more--nothing till I found myself coming to, on board -that foreign ship. The deathly sickness! The longing to sink back into -unconsciousness! The dim dull misery and tingling in every limb! as -the stagnant blood began once more to circulate. I hope you will never -know them. It is bad to drown, but it is far, far worse to be brought -to. It was days before I was myself again; but I had plenty of time to -recruit. The ship was bound for the Philippines, and it was not till -she reached Manilla that I was set ashore." - -"Ah! then you have travelled, sir," said the Vice-Chancellor, -scrutinising him with the condescension of a superior person -recognising an interesting trait in an ordinary mortal. "Yet you have -had time to make your fortune at home, and now you are embarking in -politics, I hear. You deserve credit for the comprehensiveness of your -energy, and will no doubt bring unusual information to bear on public -affairs; but politics is as stormy a sea, and one more difficult to -navigate than the one you know. It would be a pity, after weathering -so many dangers, to make shipwreck there. We want good men in -Parliament, but we want them on the right side." - -"Is that the side of the patriots, Chancellor?--the men who went into -office to save the country, and who made their own fortunes instead? -The tide has turned, and left them high and dry on the bank, or in the -offices they appointed themselves to fill." - -It was a young man who spoke--fair-haired and broad-shouldered, with a -complexion burnt to the colour of bricks by the exposure of outdoor -life. His clothes were not new, but they fitted him, and there was -that look of rest and balance in his limbs which leisure and exercise -alone can give,--so different from the smug constraint with which life -in chambers and offices stamps the man of affairs. - -The Vice-Chancellor turned with the haughty stare of a schoolmaster on -the urchin who has spoken out of turn. Colonel Carraway looked -disgusted at the bad taste which could drag politics into social -intercourse; and politics flavoured with personality as well, to judge -by the thrill in the speaker's voice. Senator Deane rolled his cigar -round to the other cheek, and--never mind, it is a dirty habit. - -"Those Canadians," he observed to his neighbour, "get as hot over -their politics as we do. 'What can there be to quarrel about in -_their_ small concerns?' say you? The same as in our big -affairs--place and plunder, you may be sure. That's about all." - -Joseph Naylor turned round to see who it was whose remark had brought -the Chickenpip oration to a halt. "What! Walter Blount! You here! -Where have you dropped from? The very last man I expected to see. And -yet no one but you would have let his political zeal break out on so -slight provocation. That comes of not being a native. You take the -fever of politics the hotter for being new to it." - -"But _you_ are contesting our Riding just now." - -"The more need to let alone for the present moment, so as to come -fresh to the conflict. Party bickerings grow stale to the mind if one -is always harping on them. Time enough to let out when I get back -there. This is the seaside. But what brings _you_ here?" resting his -eyes admiringly on the other's sturdy limbs. "I see no sign of the -relaxed system which is said to need bracing sea-air." - -The young man did not change colour. The dusky vermilion of his -sunburnt skin was incapable of a heightened tint; but he looked -confused under the twinkling laughter of the other's eye. "I shall be -selling out this Fall, so I thought I might run down here to the sea -before moving West." - -"West? Are you dreaming of making a fortune on the prairies?--turning -farmer in earnest. Have you killed all the bears in your present -neighbourhood, and exterminated the deer?" - -"There will be neither bear nor deer within twenty miles before two -years are over. The new railway runs right across my farm, and the -speculators are prospecting all over the neighbourhood. I am offered a -good price for my land. I shall sell, and go West somewhere, where -settlers are fewer and game more abundant. No! prairie farming would -not suit me. Even an improved farm in a good part of Ontario would be -better than that; but I prefer the woods." - -The circle round Naylor had now broken into groups occupied with their -own talk, leaving him free to pursue his private gossip with his -friend. He settled himself on a bench, buried his hands in his -pockets, pushed out his feet in front, and blew a mighty cloud of -smoke from his German pipe. "I declare I'm tired, Walter, with so much -talking this morning. Now for a good old smoke! Where's your pipe?" - -Walter sat down beside him and filled his pipe slowly and absently, as -if his thoughts were on other things. Then he cleared his voice, -lighted the pipe, and with as much off-handness as he could assume -observed between the whiffs-- - -"Your family are with you, Mr Naylor?" - -"My family is always with me. I carry the whole of it under my hat," -he answered, looking his questioner straight in the eye, with a -twinkle which plainly said, "Speak out if you have anything to say. I -do not intend to help you." - -The young man coughed. The smoke of his pipe had lost its way, and -seemed trying for an outlet down his throat. "Mrs Naylor and her -daughters are here, I understand?" he said at last. - -"Yes." - -There was a lengthened silence. "Yes" is not an answer to which the -next observation can readily be attached. The questioner removed his -pipe, and began nervously to examine what could be making it draw so -badly; while the other watched him in silent amusement, tempered with -a touch of good-natured pity. - -"I wonder," Blount said at last, digging the charge carefully out of -his pipe, and so making it unnecessary to raise his eyes to the -other's face,--"I wonder what they will say to see me here?" - -"Difficult to imagine," came the answer from the thickest of a bank of -smoke. - -"I fear I am not a favourite with Mrs Naylor." - -"She told you not to call any more, I believe? That was pretty plain." - -"Was it not too bad of her? What can she have against me? She has -known me ever since I came to the country, and she used to be like a -mother to me." - -"That was imprudent. Now she sees it, I suppose. A mother of girls may -become mother-in-_law_ to some young fellow one day, and Mrs Naylor -may feel that she ought to reserve herself for that. When girls leave -school, you see, circumstances alter." - -"I am sure I showed no unwillingness to take her for _my_ -mother-in-law." - -"That was the trouble. She could have taken you for a son--a full son, -understand--and you might have been brother to the girls, if that -would have pleased you. But it didn't." - -"How could it? Would it have satisfied you--to take a nice girl to -picnics, and hold her shawl while another fellow danced with her?" - -"Put it that way, and it does seem hard. But what is a mother to do? -Her daughters' prospects ought to be her chief care." - -"Do you think it is right to be mercenary, then? Is money to stand for -everything? Is the fellow to count for nothing?" - -"By no means! A good fellow it _must_ be--a nice fellow and a -gentleman if possible, or the girl's life is spoiled. No amount of -money could make her happy with a ruffian or a cad. But you must -remember that Mrs Naylor's girls are young yet, and I cannot blame her -for wishing to look about before fixing their position for life." - -"It is hard to be passed over merely for being the first comer. And -they may happen on worse subjects as well as better." - -"Quite true. There is a proverb about a girl who was so particular -about the stick she went to cut, that she came to the end of the wood -before she could make up her mind, and then she had to content herself -with a crooked one, or go without. However, proverbial philosophy goes -for nothing, you know; people like to try for themselves. Still, there -is excuse for a mother wishing not to bury her accomplished daughter -in the backwoods, as wife to a wild huntsman. One can understand that -it would be pleasant for you, after being out all day with your gun -and your dog, to find your dinner laid, and a pretty young wife beside -a cosy fire waiting for you; but you cannot call it unreasonable if -the lady's friends wish to secure her a less solitary home. When you -are out, what will she have to amuse her but needle and thread? the -chickens and the cows? You would not like to think of her sitting in -the kitchen talking to the help; and yet you know they will be the -only human creatures she will have to speak to when you are away." - -"I told you I was selling out. She can choose her home anywhere -between Gaspé and Vancouver." - -"You would not like to live in a town, and a girl must have been bred -on a farm to live happily on one afterwards." - -"You leave the husband out of the calculation. Do you think she could -be happy even in London or New York with a fellow she did not care -for?" - -"That is true; but she need not marry unless she cares." - -"While even in the bush, if she liked the fellow, and he was fond of -her, I think they might both be completely happy." - -"I am with you there, my lad. Not a doubt of it,"--and he buried his -hands deeper in his pockets, and bent his head forward to look at his -boots, drawing a deep breath, and smoking harder than ever. - -"Then why--Do you not think, Mr Naylor, you could bring your -sister-in-law to see it in that light? You have always been a friend -to me, since the first day I met you." - -"Always your friend. Be sure of it. But I doubt my influence with Mrs -Naylor; and, if I had any, I doubt if I ought to interfere. Girls -cannot know their own minds till they have seen something of the -world. They may mistake a passing fancy for real regard; and if they -have married in the meantime, there are two lives spoiled, instead of -one just a little scorched--and that only for the moment, perhaps," he -added, after a pause. Then pulling himself together,--"But what makes -you talk like this to a crusty old bachelor? You cannot expect -sympathy in your love-affairs from one who has resisted the illusions -of sentiment as successfully as I have, surely?" - -"I don't know. People are not bachelors and old maids for being harder -than their neighbours, I suspect. I often fancy it is the other way. -But at least you are not against my trying, are you? You will not do -anything to make my chances less than they are already?" - -"No, Blount; I'll do nothing against you. I could almost wish the girl -took a fancy to you, for I believe you are real; and if she does, I -will do nothing to dissuade her. Money and position are not -everything, by any means." - - - - - CHAPTER VII. - - A TABLEAU. - - -Mrs Deane and her party returned early from their drive. The loungers -on the galleries saw them alight. They also saw Naylor come hurriedly -forward, uncovered beneath the penetrating glare of noon, which -singled out the scattered hairs of white among the brown about his -temples, and made them glitter in a way not grateful to the feelings -of a well-preserved bachelor in middle life--if he had but known it. - -Why can a man not stick fast at five-and-thirty?--at least till he -marries? He is at his best then physically, though mentally--if he has -a mind worth mentioning--he may go on improving for another decade, if -not longer. There is so much in life, and in one's self, worth -knowing, and which is not found out till after the time when the -knowledge would have been most precious has slidden by. The soul grows -slower than the body, and may only be coming into bloom when those -weariful crow-feet are beginning to gather round the eyes. But girls -cannot be expected to see all this. How should they, when youth in -themselves is held the crown and perfume of all their charm? - -Still Naylor passed fairly well beneath the scrutiny of curious -eyes--"the man who had been all but drowned that morning." He looked -active, and even athletic, if somewhat gone to flesh. There was -honesty in the steadfast grey eye, and modest self-possession in the -fresh-coloured face. There was an earnestness, too, at the moment, -which lent his bearing the dignity which is seldom attainable by the -well-fed man of middle age and medium stature. - -"Miss Hillyard," he said, "I have not had the happiness of being -introduced to you; but surely, under the debt I owe you from this -morning, you will allow me to offer you my grateful thanks." - -"Mr Naylor," she answered, holding out her hand, "pray say nothing -more about it. You have thanked me already, you know. But I am happy -to make your acquaintance. I only did what any bather must have done -who was near enough. I feel a little proud, I acknowledge, of my -success, and pleased to have been of use; but do not talk of debts and -gratitude: it sounds oppressive." - -"I cannot take it so easily as that, Miss Hillyard. If you had not -laid hold on me as you did, I should have gone under. I felt myself -sinking when you touched me. I should have been down before Sefton -reached me--I am sure of that. You saved my life: it is an obligation -which I never can repay." - -Rosa flushed a little, and looked down. There were a good many pair of -female eyes in the gallery turned upon her, as she felt, with -interest, and just a suspicion of envy, which could not but be -gratifying. Still, it was embarrassing to stand out there on the -gravel when the carriage had driven off, a cynosure for the eyes of -all the people above; and just a trifle stagey, with this bareheaded -gentleman presenting his acknowledgments with demonstrative respect. -Queen Elizabeth would have liked it; but then, she was a public -character: and besides, we prefer nowadays to keep our theatricals and -our private life apart. At the same time, it was pleasant to hear this -earnest and respectful gentleman assure her that she had saved his -life: he looked so manly and so strong. It made her think well of -herself to have been able to help him; and his clear grey eyes looked -so truthful and brave in their level gaze, that she wondered how their -parts in the morning's episode should have been so strangely reversed, -and felt how safe she would have been in his company had the accident -happened to herself. - -As for him, standing before her and looking in her face, it seemed as -if the years must have rolled back upon themselves,--the long -savourless years since his youth,--the years which had been so bitter -when first he had passed through his sore probation of sorrow; and -then, when the lacerated spirit had learned to endure, had grown dull -and insipid. He had felt himself alone, and that the joy of life was -not for him; that others might love, but he must stand aside, an -onlooker at the feast at which no place was laid for him. This new -stirring in his benumbed emotions seemed like the summers he -remembered long ago in the South, when the plants, made torpid by the -arid heat, forget to grow, waiting through rainless weeks beneath a -brazen sky. Then come the showers at last, and the roses put out buds -and bloom anew, till winter comes to nip them. - -He could not withdraw his eyes from the beautiful face before him. As -he looked, it seemed transformed into another--another, yet still the -same. This was more mature and strong; but that other might have been -so too, if it had been given him to see it later. The soft brown eyes -were the same, which lighted when she spoke, with the same blueness in -the white, a lingering remainder from the freshness and purity of -childhood. The hair was less dark than hers whom he remembered so -well, and it had a crisper wave, which caught the falling sunbeams -here and there, and flashed them brightly back like burnished bronze. -There was rich warm colour, too, in the cheek, while that other had -been pale; but the difference accorded with the change of scene -between the bracing airs of the North and the thick hot languor of -Louisiana. This face had vigour and maturity; the other had been more -tender and more frail. Its charm had lain in a drooping softness -claiming support, and promises for the future as yet unfulfilled; -while this was in the glory of all her beauty, sufficient for herself -in her supple strength--a companion for manhood, as the other had been -the clinging cherished one for youth. - -The silence had now lasted for nearly a minute. Rosa became uneasily -aware that she was contributing a tableau for the entertainment of her -fellow-guests, which might be interpreted as "Love at first sight," or -a modern and burlesque rendering of "Pharaoh's daughter and the infant -Moses," according to their several humours. She looked up in her -companion's face, with rising colour in her own, and the flicker of a -smile about her lips, while she held out her hand. - -"You are staying here, Mr Naylor, are you not?" she said. "We shall -see each other again. I am pleased to know you. Now I must follow Mrs -Deane," and she turned and went up the stairs. - -Naylor awoke from his reverie, and found himself alone. He felt how -few and bald had been his expressions of obligation; and he had come -forward prepared to deliver himself so fully, and in such carefully -chosen words, when the near view of her face had raised long-buried -recollections, and confused him with a sense of doubleness in the -presence before him, and left his memory blank. The tender girl he had -been parted from long ago, seemed associated and blended with the -personality of this beautiful deliverer before him; and in an effort -to disentangle the old impressions from the new, the precious moment -for uttering his little speech had slipped away. Now he was alone, -feeling how tongue-tied and thankless he must have appeared, and how -impossible it would be to make another opportunity for delivering his -speech. - -And yet the speech might not be necessary now. She had received him -very graciously, and had even said that she was pleased to know -him--said it twice--and that they would meet again. "What more could -he want?" he thought; "and was he not an ass to fancy that any set -phrases of his could give pleasure to so glorious a creature?--and -shabby at heart, to think that any string of words could lessen the -obligation under which he stood? He must never forget the debt, or -dream that by word or act it could be lessened; rather, he must -treasure the recollection, and watch and be ready, if haply he might, -some day, be privileged to serve or succour in return." - -So thinking, he turned on his heel and went his way, leaving the -spectators in the gallery to find some other object to divert their -leisure. - - - - - CHAPTER VIII. - - MRS WILKIE'S POWDER. - - -Rose left Naylor standing on the gravel, and went into the house, -making her way leisurely up to her room. - -The parlour door stood ajar, disclosing only darkness within, to eyes -coming straight from the outer glare of sunshine. It seemed cool in -there, with the rustling sea-breeze sifting fitfully through the -closed Venetians; and there were gurglings of smothered laughter, -which told that the place was not deserted. She stepped within the -gloom, and, as her eyes grew used to it, she became able to make out -the tenants. - -A cheerful crew of girls, standing and seated in a ring, occupied the -centre of the floor. In their midst sat old Mrs Wilkie on a low -ottoman, which she occupied by herself, like a kind of throne, fanning -herself industriously till the short grey curls upon her temples -danced and fluttered in the artificial gale. The new blue ribbons in -her cap and the old blue eyes in her head danced in unison and -elation, and a proud self-satisfied smile played about her lips, and -deepened the creases in her cheeks, which looked round and rosy like -an overkept winter apple. She was in her glory, and she gave yet a -more energetic flap to the palm-leaf fan, as she pursed her lips -together, and prepared to speak again. - -"Yes, my dears," were her words as Rose joined the circle, "blue was -always my colour. You see I am fair--'like a lily,' the young men used -to tell me I was," and she made a flourish with her fan. "But that was -years ago," and she blew a sigh which made her chest heave like a -portly bellows. "And then I had a colour--like a Cheeny-rose, the -haverels would have it; but the Scotch gentlemen are great hands to -blaw in the lugs of silly girls. Not that I was ever the wan to let my -head be turned with their nonsense--but still they had grounds for -what they said." - -"You were a beauty," said Lettice Deane--"I can see that;" and the -girls exchanged glances brimming with amusement and incredulity, such -as those feel whose bloom is still in the present tense, when one of -the have-beens puts in her claim to personal charms. - -"Yes, my dear, I was admired--in my day," and the double chin went up -with a snap, to join the rest of the self-complacent countenance. - -"Don't say was, Mrs Wilkie," Lettice answered. "You are a dangerous -woman still. It is well that mamma is with us here, to look after the -old man, or--or---- Nobody knows what might happen. These old -gentlemen are very susceptible." - -"I don't think I am acquainted with your papaw, my dear," said the old -woman, looking round the tittering circle with rising colour, and -bridling as if the jest perhaps contained more truth than the scoffer -wot of. "But I never was a flirt; and now, in my poseetion, one has to -be careful, and set an example of propriety. But, as I was saying--and -it's well for young people to know these things--you don't take proper -care of yourselves in this country. You should see our Scotch -complexions when we're young. Strawberries and crame--that's what we -look like. But then we take a hantle care of our chairms; and we live -healthy. It would be good for some Yankee girls if they were put -through a course of proper conduck"--and she looked straight at Lucy -Naylor, the most flagrant of the titterers--"and simple living, by one -of our old Scotch grandmothers. You're for ever drinking icewater and -hot tea, out here; and how can you expeck your insides to be healthy -after that? And you're all the time at candies or pickles, not to -speak of hot bread, and beef-steaks and pitaities for breakfast, as if -ye had a day's ploughing before you--and you just lounging on soffies -and easy-chairs the whole forenoon, with some bit silly novel in your -hands, and nothing to exercise either the body or the intelleck. My -son, the Deputy Minister of Edication, says you're just destroying -yourselves." - -"Tell us about _him_, dear Mrs Wilkie," said Lettice, cutting short -the prelection. "We know our faults already, though I fear we are not -likely to mend them. Tell us about the young man. That will be far -more interesting. What do you call his profession? Something very -long-winded and grand, I know." - -"He is the Deputy Minister of Edication, for the Province. And it _is_ -a grand poseetion for so young a man, or for any man--whatever you may -think. And as for being 'long-winded,' you don't understand. He doesna -preach, my dear--though he could do that too, if there was occasion. -It was that I bred him to. But this pays better. He has his handsome -income for just sitting still in his chair and seeing that his -inferiors work hard enough. And then, there's what the opposeetion -papers, with their ill-scrapet tongues, call pickin's! Oh yes! there's -fine pickin's. But I mustna be telling tales out o' school." - -"He must be a bishop, then, Mrs Wilkie, if he does not preach. We call -boss ministers bishops. Do you call them deputies in Canada? How odd -of you! And yet I danced with him last night. Think of dancing with a -bishop! It sounds positively profane. What a country Canada must be!" - -"The lassie's in a creel! My Peter's no that kind of minister avaw. I -_bred_ him for a minister, it's true--a minister of the Gospel, and -very far from the same kind with your bishops, and their white gowns, -and red things hanging down their backs. It's a U.P. he would have -been, if I had had my way. But Peter preferred being a minister of the -Crown; and there's no denying it _pays_ better. There's no vows laid -on a minister of the Crown. They may dance, or do anything they -like--and very queer things some of them do like, it seems to me. But -Mis-ter Wilkie's very circumspeck. He's Deputy Minister, you see. -'Deputy' means that all the pickin's"--and she winked, poor -soul--"go to _him_; though sometimes he has to give a share to the -chief--quietly, you understand, my dears, for the chief is responsible -to Parliament, and there would be a scandal if it came out. They're -fond of having a scandal in Canada when politics are dull. Then the -chief has to resign, but the deputy just sits still. He's a servant of -the Crown, you see; so he goes on drawing his pay just the same, -whatever chief the politeetians may appint over him. That comes of our -having a Crown in Canada. It's a fine institution, and troubles -nobody. It would be telling you Yankees if you had wan. Ye wouldn't be -turned out of your comfortable offices every four years, then; and -more, it would keep you steady. Ye have no respeck and no reverence -here, and no nothing;" and again she looked severely in Lucy Naylor's -face--that ill-regulated young person having fallen a-laughing worse -than ever. - -"It must be nice to be married to a Deputy Minister of the Crown," -Lettice observed, demurely. - -"Ye may say that; and there's more than you thinks it, I can tell you, -my dear. The young girls where we come from are just pulling caps to -see who is to be the wan. It's really shameless the way they behave, -and many's the good laugh me and Mis-ter Wilkie has at their -ongoings." - -"I suppose you are to choose the successful candidate?" - -"A mother must know the kind that will suit her boay best. But it's a -sore responsibeelity, my dears. It would be terrible if the -expurriment didn't answer; and he's very hard to please, and terrible -fond of his own way." - -"Couldn't you say a good word for one of us here, dear Mrs Wilkie?" -asked Lettice with her most winning smile. "Just see what a lot of us -there are!--and we have all to find husbands yet: every variety of -girl you can think of--tall and short, dark and fair. Surely one of us -might answer. It would be a gain to all. If one were provided for, the -chance would be better, by so much, for all the rest when the next -_parti_ came along." - -"Peter must have intelleck, he says, and high culture. I'm fear'd ye -wouldn't just answer, my dear--though you're a nice girl, I'll allow, -and--well--and comely." - -Lettice coloured to the temples, and her well-arched eyebrows -contracted into something approaching to a frown. It is eminently -provoking, when one fancies one has been rather successful in drawing -out an oddity, and making sport, to find the tables suddenly turned, -and one's self made the butt. - -"I was not thinking of myself," she said, and there was a tremor of -crossness in her voice, which made her discomfiture more amusingly -evident to the rest--"or any one else, for that matter. I know I would -not take a gift of the fellow, with his washy grey eyes, and stiff -priggish pomposity." - -"The grapes are sour, my dear. Did you never hear tell of the story of -the fox? But never you mind. There's a man appinted for you, I make no -doubt; and if there is, ye'll get him, for as long as he is about -appearing." - -There was a scream of laughter, and Lettice, too angry to trust her -voice with a retort, turned on her heel and went out, while the old -lady sniffed vindictively and pursed her lips, as if she could have -said much more, had the offender allowed her time. - -"The impident monkey!" she muttered at last. "Does she think she is to -make sport of _me_, without getting as good as she gives?" "That's a -forward girl," she added aloud. "It isn't becoming for a young woman -to be putting in for a gentleman in that barefaced way. And ye needn't -laugh, my dears; some of you are not much better. As for Mis-ter -Wilkie, ye may keep your minds easy; he can get better than any of you -where we come from, just for the raising of his finger." - -"Poor Lettice!" said Rose. "Are you not a little hard on her? I am -sure she did not mean to be provoking." - -"If _you_ say that, my dear, I am willing to suppose it. But really, -I'm just bothered with young girrls trying to catch my son, every -place I go. It's like the way bees come bizzing round a sugar-bowl; or -wasps, I might say," and she flung an angry glance at Lucy Naylor, -caught laughing again. "You are the young lady, if I'm not mistaken, -that saved the man's life this morning? It was a noble ack; and you're -an example to us women, that are more given to hang about a man till -he sinks, than to bear him up when he's in trouble. You'll be staying -here, like the rest of us?" - -"Yes; I am here with Mrs Deane and her daughter." - -"That girrl that was so impertinent to me just now?--pretending to -cock her nose at a Deputy Minister! Set her up!" - -"Miss Deane is an heiress and a beauty. All the men in Chicago were -wild about her last winter. She did not mean to offend you, I am sure; -though perhaps she is a little spoilt by all the attention she -receives." - -"An heiress, is she? And these will all be heiresses too, maybe? -They're forward and saucy enough for that or anything," she added, -tossing her head at the retiring figures trooping away to overtake -Lettice, and leaving the old woman, whose good-humour they had worn -out, standing alone with Rose. "If it was you, now, I would be proud -to hear that ye were an heiress, and to know you. Ye've got spurrit; -and I'm sure ye have sense as well as good looks. Ye're not so young -as thae light-headed tawpies, with their empty laughs, that have gone -out just now, but you're just in your prime." - -"I am five-and-twenty," said Rose, with a twinkle of dawning mischief. - -"That's within two years of the age I was myself when I was married. -It would be just one like you that I could welcome to my bosom, for a -daughter," and she looked graciously in the other's face, to accept -the answering look of gratitude which she felt was her due. "It's a -sore responsibeelity, I can tell you, to a right-thinking mother, to -get her only son--and _such_ a son!--properly settled in life. They've -no sense, even the best of men, when it comes to choosing a wife. -There's a glamour comes over them, and they just fall a prey to some -designing cuttie that has nothing but the duds she stands in, and -neither sense nor experience. But I mean to stand between my boay and -that misfortune, at any rate." - -"He must feel deeply indebted to you." - -"I don't know if he does, my dear. The men are contrar' cattle, and -very thrawn. But I have my duty to do. He's my objeck in life. I left -home to come out and live with him in a foreign land; and that was no -small sacrifice at my time of life, I can tell you. It's true he has a -fine piseetion and a good income; but if ye had seen the way he was -being put upon, and the waste, when I came out to look after him, it -would have made your hair stand up. A whole peck of pitaities biled -every day for wan man's dinner! The cook's mother kept pigs, ye see. -That's where the pitaities went. But I made a cleen sweep, I can tell -you." - -"It must have been rather trying to you." - -"Eh yes! it's been very hard upon my nerves. I'm not strong; though -perhaps ye wouldn't think it. My colour's so good that nobody will -believe there's much the matter with me. But my heart's affecket, my -dear. If you could just feel the palpitations--thump--thump--like -a smiddie hammer! ever since thae girrls with their jawing went -out,"--and she laid her hand upon her ample chest and closed her eyes. - -"How distressing! Does your medical man give you hopes of getting over -it?" - -"That's in Higher Hands, my dear. We are trying the effecks of sea-air -on my complaint, just now. That's what has brought us all the way down -from Ontario. The doctor thinks I want bracing, and he gives me -poothers to take. You see, it's homoeopathy we are trying. And that -'minds me: this is my time for a poother. What can have come over -Peter that he isn't here to give me it?" - -"Can you not take your powder yourself?" - -"No; it's small and delicate, and not easy to apply. The doctor -ordered it to be sprinkled on the tongue. I wish Peter was here. The -thoughtless rascal!" - -"On the tongue? How odd! Do you think I could do it for you?" - -"My dear, if you would! Ye're a dear lamb, and ye'll be a treasure to -any mother-in-law that gets you." - -"Have you the powder?" - -"I carry them about with me, to prevent accidents, when I'm living in -a strange house. The maids might be for tasting them, ye see, and -nobody knows what might happen." - -Mrs Wilkie sat down in a chair facing the window, handed a tiny parcel -to Rose, and stretched out her feet in front, while she laid back her -head, grasping the chair-arms, shutting her eyes tight, and opening -her mouth wide to display the flat red tongue. It was a moment of -tension with her; she was stretched to her utmost, holding her breath, -and with every muscle tightened in expectant rigidity. - -Rose opened the parcel, which contained a pinch of white powder, and -proceeded to administer; but the appearance of the patient was so -comic that she had to forbear while calming her risible inclinations, -lest her hand should shake and the precious remedy fall on a wrong -place. At length she felt steady, and began to sprinkle as directed. -But the sprinkling took time. The powder was to be evenly scattered -over the member, or evil results would ensue; and meanwhile the -patient was holding in her breath. She clutched the chair-arms, and -strove valiantly; but nature gave way at length. Just as the last -flake descended to its place, the imprisoned wind broke loose with a -mighty sigh; a white cloud ascended between herself and Rose, while -the outstretched jaws relaxed and came together; she opened her eyes -and sat up, but the "poother" was scattered on the viewless air, and -the old lady had little homoeopathy that morning. - - - - - CHAPTER IX. - - BETWEEN FRIENDS. - - -There is considerable monotony in seaside life, but it is monotony of -a different kind from the everyday existence of the rest of the year; -and in this complete change its principal charm and benefit consist. -The home-life of a number of households is laid aside for the time, -and the heterogeneous elements are thrown for the moment into a larger -whole, forming an unstable compound--a salad of humanity where the -sweets, the sours, and the bitters find themselves in new combinations -with one another, and united for the time in a _sauce piquante_ of -fresh air and idleness. There can be no great variety in the -occupations; picnics, excursions, drives, rides, walks, form an -ever-recurring ditto, to which the unaccustomedness alone gives -flavour. - -There is rest for the workers, and society for the home-keeping, but -genuine delight only for the very young, whose gregarious instincts -are still unblunted, and who find in the presence of one another the -exhilaration of spreading their callow wings in early flights. - -For the mother-birds, however, there is anxiety. In this larger -poultry-yard their chicks grow wilder than they have ever known them -before. The broods get mixed, and wander into undreamt-of mischief, -pullets consorting with cockerels of another breed, chickens with -ducklings venturing into the water, while Dame Partlet clucks and -flutters about, pecking and distracted. - -Mrs Naylor sat fidgeting and restless among the matrons who presided -over and superintended the enjoyments of their youthful charges. Lucy -was causing her anxiety. "Who was that tall man she was dancing -with?--dancing not for the first time or the second, but the third -time without a break. And how unnecessarily intimate they appeared! -Could she not fan herself if she felt warm, when they stopped for -breath?--instead of letting an awkward stranger raise tempests which -were blowing her hair into unsightly confusion, and making her so -needlessly conspicuous." If a gentleman was warranted "nice," she did -not object to his paying attention to her girls, but she wanted -assurance of the niceness. She leant over to the nearest neighbour who -seemed at leisure to answer her inquiries, and with whom, being a -stranger, she would not compromise herself, whatever might be said. - -The neighbour was Miss Maida Springer, a damsel scarcely any longer -young, seeing her thirtieth birthday would be her next, who hovered on -the confines of the dance, and looked hungrily after young men leading -other maidens out, and wondering why no one came for her. She sat -under the wing of an elder as lonely as herself--the widow Denwiddie, -who varied the sober tenor of her life by spending a fortnight each -summer among the gaieties and dissipations by the sea. She was bidding -the widow observe things curious in the whirling crowd of dancers as -they passed. - -"See that great thing in pink," she had said last. "Positively stout. -And what a colour for a large woman to wear! If it had been black, -now, or blue, or even white----" and she glanced down approvingly at -her own blue and white washed muslin. "Just watch the slow revolving -heap. Ain't she like an iceberg out at sea, growing pink in the -setting sun? And her poor little bit of a partner, racing to get round -her on time! My! mustn't he feel warm! He reminds me of an ant trying -to carry home a seed of wheat. Why don't he choose a slim one like -himself?" and she ran her eye down her own spare form, which was -certainly as slim as the absence of superfluous tissue could make it, -with spider-like arms and wrists which would not be kept out of -sight,--thinking how much freer the gentleman would have felt in the -clasp of these slender tendrils. - -"Look at that one's feet. Well, I never! What a size! I wonder how she -can venture to stand up and dance. Ain't it good for the beetles they -ain't none of them here?" and then, by a strange coincidence, a pair -of number-one shoes stole out in front to show themselves--things -small and narrow, on which it seemed wonderful that a human being -could stand. But then a few bones can be packed away in very little -room. - -"Will you kindly tell me," asked Mrs Naylor, "who is that gentleman by -the wall, with a lady's fan in his hand?--the one with the limp hair, -brushed up so strangely above his forehead." - -"The tall fine man with drab hair? That's Mr Aurelius Sefton of -Pugwash--one of the most rising pork-packers in the whole West, they -do say." - -"Pugwash? What a name! And pork! That accounts for the sleekness of -his hair. Lard--depend upon it." - -"You think the lard has got in his hair? Well, now, ain't you droll! -Perhaps it has. But if lard has got in the hair, they do tell there -has money got in the pocket. Do you lumber folks in Canady, now, have -chips in your hair--chips and sawdust?" - -Mrs Naylor looked dignified, and turned away. The magnates of her -country deal in lumber. It is quite a high-class pursuit, and not to -be spoken of in the same breath with pork--a horrid butcherly -business, in which no person of refinement would condescend to make -his fortune. - -Maida raised her eyebrows, and turned to her friend. - -"Ain't we high-strung, just! we aristocrats from Canady? What -difference can it make whether it's hogs or logs a man makes his pile -by, so long as he makes it? And I guess, if there's been less money -made in pork, there's been a sight more lost in lumber. I had a friend -once----" and she coloured faintly, looking down, and heaving a sigh -so demonstrative that her friend turned and looked at her. - -"Yes, my dear?" said the widow, with a droop in her voice in token of -sympathy. "You _had_ a friend? That sounds sad. Whaar did he go to?" - -"He went away; and that's why it always seems as if something was -catching my breath and making me feel low, whenever lumber is spoken -of. _He_ went to Canady in the lumbering interest, because prospects -were better there than in old Vermont. He promised to come back when -he had made his pile, and I promised to wait. It's nothing so mighty -unusual for young folks to do; and it's real feelin' of you to shake -your head and look at me like that, Mrs Denwiddie. But don't let folks -see you a-doing it; they might wonder." - -"Ah yes!" heaved the widow, in deep sympathy; "I can understand. It's -the tender way us trustin' women always has. We never tell our love, -but just let folks think it's a big caterpillar has got in the heart -of the cabbage, so to speak; or rather, I should say, liver and -dispepsy that's eatin' our young looks away. It's disappinted love, -now--is it, my dear--that's wearin' you to a shaddy? I know the -feelin' well," and another sigh undulated her portly figure. "It's -twenty years, come Fall, since I was left a lone woman, and hope has -been tellin' me flatterin' tales ever since; but the men are -that backward--they just look foolish when I shake their hands -friendly-like and invite them to sit a bit, after seein' me home from -evenin' meetin'; and away they go, sayin' never a word, and leavin' me -with no more appetite for supper than if I'd eaten it a'ready." - -"Do you mean that you would marry again?" - -"I would then--and don't you forget it--if ever I get the chance." - -Maida glanced sidewise, and shrank the least bit possible away. - -"You think me light-minded now, maybe, my dear? I don't wonder at it. -Them as hain't been married don't know how lonesome it feels to see -just the one cup and saucer laid out beside the teapot at mealtimes." - -"There must be memories. It would be sweet, I should have thought, to -dwell on the idea that one had gone before, and was waiting across the -river to be joined by the old companion." - -"Oh yes; that's sweet--in a way. At least it was, when it was a dear -young minister that was sayin' beautiful things about the Golden -Shore, and comfortin' the bereaved. But twenty years is a long time. -The Rev. Mr Beulah is a married man now, with a fine young family of -his own. Folks have forgotten about my affliction this many a year. -And as for Hezekiah----I don't hold with them spiritualists. He's more -to do, you bet, than to be coming around frightenin' a lone woman with -messages rapped out on a tea-table, or to mind whether I'm married or -single. I'll be laid beside him when the time comes; that's as it -should be. But it would be real pleasant to have some one for company -in the meantime. It's a vale of tears--we've Gospel for that; but if -ever you come to my time of life, you'll be wishin', like me, you had -some one to dry your eyes in it." - -Maida sighed disappointedly. Her friend's sentiments were too robust -for the plaintive tone in which that word "lumber" had been tempting -her to indulge. Mrs Denwiddie, on the other hand, felt talkative, and -there being no one else whom she could address, she accommodated -herself to her friend's mood. - -"Is it long, now, since you saw him last?--your friend, I mean." - -"He went ten years ago." - -"Ten years! That's half a lifetime. Have you been gettin' letters from -him for ten years?" - -"He used to write--at first, that is. Then he would send a newspaper. -Now, I don't know where he is, or what he is doing. I wish I did. All -would be forgiven and forgotten, if he only would return." - -"It's real good of you to speak like that, my dear. It takes a woman -to be true and forgivin' like that. I wonder what the young man will -be doin', now, all this time?" - -"He is trying hard to make that weary fortune, to be sure. He is -ambitious." - -"And he don't allow himself even the encouragement of writin' to tell -you how he's gettin' on. Do you think there could be some one up there -encouragin' him?" - -"Mrs Denwiddie!" - -"There's no tellin', my dear, what the men are up to. They ain't -faithful and endurin' like us." - -"I have waited. I can wait." - -"It does you credit, my dear. But a girl's youth won't wait. How about -settlin' yourself in life?" - -Maida tightened her lips. She knew all that as well as Mrs Denwiddie; -but what right had the woman to inspect her life in this fashion? to -pull open the fold in which she chose to hide her inner self, and pry -and probe in wanton curiosity?--the merciless and contemptuous -curiosity with which married women will card out and examine the -tangled threads of a spinster's being. She knew well enough the -hopelessness of what, for want of another name, she thought of as her -"attachment." Yet why could it not be taken at such small worth as she -put upon it? She had not boasted of it. She knew its little value too -well. But it was all she had, and why might she not wear it, having -nothing else? That evening she was sitting a wallflower while the rest -were merry--with no one to lead her out or make her a sharer in the -gaiety. What wonder if she should wish to refer to a deferred -engagement, and furbish up the poor little relic of a might-have-been, -the one bit of romance she ever had, if only to seem less forlorn in -her own eyes? And this old thing by her side, as lonely and shut out -from the revelry as herself, and who, but for her, would have sat -absolutely solitary--that _she_ should take upon her to be inquisitive -and unpleasant! It was intolerable. She gathered her spare skirts more -tightly round her, and edged some inches away upon the haircloth sofa -she divided with her "friend." She would have risen altogether, but -where was she to go? To what other companion could she join herself? -She was not intimate with any of the other guests, married or single, -old or young. She belonged, poor soul, to the order of bats--both bird -and quadruped, yet accepted by neither. In the marrying aspect, she -was regarded as altogether out of the running, while old and young -agreed each in classing her with the other variety--too old to be a -girl, not old enough to be a tabby--and nobody minded her when other -company could be got. She felt it all, though she bravely ignored and -struggled with her fate, living through many a tragic pang which no -one ever suspected. She dared not put her position to the test by -quarrelling with the widow. Already she saw herself flitting in and -out among the revellers, unheeded, like a disembodied spirit. Where -she sat she had at least a companion, and was safe from pity. She -choked back her anger as a luxury she could not afford, and was ready -to respond when Mrs Denwiddie, warned by symptoms that she might be -left solitary in the crowd, realised that she must have been -disagreeable, and set herself to open a new conversation in a less -personal strain. - -How many of us would dispense with our dear friends, if we were only -sure we could get on without them! - - - - - CHAPTER X. - - A MOTHER'S CARES. - - -Mrs Naylor went back to her chair to digest the information she had -received. Pork and Pugwash were not ideas attractive to her refined -imagination; but if there was money! The sons of "first families" in -the East were sent West at times, she knew. Why not to Pugwash as well -as other places? If Mr Aurelius Sefton were indeed well off, even -Pugwash might be an endurable place to live in. Millinery is sent from -New York by express all over the country, and railways have brought -Everywhere within reach of civilisation. "Yes; if the man had his hair -cut, and his manners chastened down by a judicious mother-in-law, he -really was not ill-looking. She would find out brother Joseph, and bid -him have an eye on the man, and try what he could find out about him -from the other people in the house. It did seem, to see the pair still -circling cheerfully together, as if something might be brought to -pass, if that were desirable. Yet, if it were not, she must see that -the girl did not compromise herself, and get classed with the easily -accessible." "Ah!" she said to herself, "the anxieties of a fond -mother! How are my poor nerves to stand the strain of settling those -two girls?" She realised how good she was, feeling strengthened -thereby, and almost heroic, as she rose and moved slowly round the -outskirts of the dance in search of her brother-in-law. - -The company was more numerous than usual that evening. A brass band -from Lippenstock stood on the verandah, and brayed waltzes in through -the open windows; and three or four omnibus-loads of strangers from -Blue Fish Creek, some miles along the shore, had arrived to assist. -The rooms were full, and it was not easy to pick out any one in the -crowd. She made her way from doorway to doorway and past the windows, -outside which the men not actively engaged were wont to lounge; but no -Joseph could she see--though it was in such situations that he -generally stood watching the gambols he no longer cared to join. She -walked along the neighbouring galleries; but these seemed taken -possession of by dancers cooling off, and sauntering in the moonlight -till they were ready for another start. - -At last, in the shadow of a pillar and leaning on the balustrade, she -came upon a pair looking out seaward, in intimate talk. She thought -she recognised something in the gentleman's back, and figure, and -close-cropped hair. She almost fancied she knew him; yet who could he -be? The lady wore a dress less simple than the attire of the other -girls that evening. There was a shimmer of satin here and there among -the dimness of thinner fabric-- - - - "Like glints of moonshine in a clouded sky"-- - - -and the suggestion of pale yellow, with a bunch of crimson on the -shoulder, where it reached beyond the shadow which fell on the rest of -the figure. - -Mrs Naylor was a woman; and while she might not be able to recall the -back of her own father, a gown once seen was imprinted on her memory, -and she recognised it at once. "Miss Hillyard," she said to herself, -"the heroine--in her lovely Paris dress. I wonder whom she has got -there. That is not the contradictious Scotch schoolmaster, at any -rate, with his awkward knees and elbows. The men seem wild about her. -Natural, that, in the men. But a little unfeminine," she could not -help thinking, "in a lady to swim so well. And it would have been in -better taste if she had dressed more quietly for this once, after -making herself so remarkable in the morning. But then she is a Yankee, -and perhaps not altogether a lady. One never knows how to class those -people. Best let them alone;" and her thoughts reverted to Mr Sefton -of Pugwash, and she felt much inclined to return to the ball-room and -get Lucy away from him without further seeking enlightenment. - -At that moment the gentleman in shadow began to speak more loudly, -pointing to where the moonlight made a patch of flickering lustre on -the hazy sea. - -"How bright the moonlight lies out yonder on the water! Every ripple -catches it a moment and throws it back, till the surface seems to -burn.... How different it was this morning! How different it must be -down deep below, and how easily I might be there now--cold and stiff, -rolling amongst the sea-weed, and slime, and things nibbling in the -darkness! It is a horrible reflection, and it would have come true if -it had not been for you." - -The lady demurred, and moved, and asked if they had not better go in -now; and Mrs Naylor beheld her brother-in-law turn round and lead his -companion back among the dancers. - -She could scarcely believe her eyes. Joseph was forty-seven. She knew -the date of his birth. He had never cared to dance within her -recollection, and she had known him almost since her marriage. She -remembered his coming home from sea about that time, a sad-eyed youth, -who avoided company, and lived in a sort of patient gloom, finding his -sole distraction in close application to business. Her husband -whispered that he had met with a disappointment into which they must -not pry, but rather strive by unspoken sympathy and kindness to -reconcile him to his lot, and wean him from his sorrow. - -In time the cloud upon his spirits had seemed to lift. He was too -kind-hearted not to take interest in the people among whom he lived; -and, sympathising with them in their joys, his own depression by -degrees was lightened. A man's capacity, even for suffering, is -limited. Divide his attention, and you mitigate the intensity of his -woes. It is the self-centred egotist whose troubles kill him, or may -drive him mad, because he is incapable of distraction. To Joseph the -better part of his life had seemed over, and work his only remaining -resource. Yet he had never closed his heart against the cares and -pleasures of his fellows, and he felt a wholesome interest in all that -went on around him, like a father watching the opening hopes of -children, who have not learnt to misgive, or dread the nipping frosts -of disappointment. - -His sister-in-law, not being addicted to moral analysis, probably did -not consider this; but she had seen his despondency clear away, and -knew that he was the kindest, most cheerful, and most popular man she -had ever met--ready to join in every pastime, and differing from the -rest only in a premature middle-aged benevolence, setting in before he -was thirty, which found pleasure in amusing others, without seeking -anything for himself. He had seemed impervious to female charms -through all the years she had known him, and especially he had avoided -dances--or if by chance he found himself at one, only joining when -charity led him to the side of some neglected wallflower. And here he -was to-night, when there was no benevolent occasion for it whatever, -leading out the best-dressed woman in the room, with an ardour which -would have seemed more natural in him twenty years before. True, the -lady had saved his life; but it seemed a droll way of manifesting -gratitude to _dance_ with her, at his age. Her eyebrows made a -satirical twitch upwards, and she sighed impatiently at men's lack of -common-sense. The present was no time to unburden her anxieties--that -was plain; and meanwhile she would saunter round the crowd, and watch -him in his new character of middle-aged youngster. - -The evening was warm, but in the dancing-room it was positively hot. -The atmosphere quivered with the blare of sounding brass, and the -whirling figures, chasing the fleeting strains, raised a sirocco of -sultry air and dust. Still the young people seemed to like it, and Mrs -Naylor looked on in wonder, forgetting that she had once been young -herself. But who were those in the farthest corner, keeping themselves -so well clear of the hurrying hubbub?--revolving dreamily on the -outer edge, in perfect sympathy and time, and in an orbit of their -own--avoiding collision with the meteors and comets of the greater -system, spinning calmly and smoothly on the flood of sound, engrossed -with themselves, and indifferent to all the world beside. - -She looked again. The girl was her own daughter Margaret; but who was -the man in whose arms she was so restfully and intimately revolving? -Her self-reliant daughter was not wont to dance in that clinging -fashion, and she could not imagine what dweller at Clam Beach could -have won her to such unaccustomed softness. What masterful bird could -so have won upon the fancy of her favourite chick? Was he one of the -proper sort? But Margaret was too high-spirited to take up with a -cross-breed, and she felt less solicitous than had it been that -featherhead Lucy. Still she was curious to know who could have tamed -proud Meg to so mild a demeanour. It was not young Petty. She could -have wished that it had been. This one was not so tall, neither was he -raw-looking, as--candour compelled the admission--was Mr Walter -Petty--just a little; but then he was young yet, and it would soon -wear off, with his prospects and assured position. This one was -thoroughly in possession of himself and all his limbs. How deftly he -steered and threaded their way, without stop or collision, among the -less skilful dancers! How strong he looked, and calm, without -heaviness! She could have wished herself young again, to be danced -with by a partner such as he. In their continuous whirling, and the -perpetual intervening of other couples, she could not make out or -recognise his face. After a while they stopped, and she moved from -where she had been standing, to get a better view. How intimately -Margaret stood up to him and talked, with her flapping fan interposed -between them and the rest of the world! - -Mrs Naylor's curiosity increased, and she drew nearer. "What!" she -almost cried out aloud. "Walter Blount! How comes he here? This must -not be!" And flushing, and tightening her lips, she walked across to -where they stood. To think that after all the management she had -expended in making her brother-in-law bring them to the seaside, and -so remove her girl for a while beyond the reach of the "detrimental" -whose fascinations threatened to ruin her prospects, the aggravating -youth should have followed them! It was too provoking. She sniffed -indignantly, and bore down on the offenders, tightening her lace shawl -about her shoulders, and looking tall and stately with all her might. - -"Margaret, my dear," she said, "you are dancing a great deal too much. -You will be knocked up to-morrow, and I mean you to accompany me to -Boston." - -Margaret was taken aback. Her mother's habitual seat was in the -conversation-room, at the other end of the suite, with two pairs of -folding-doors and all the dancers between. It was to avoid her -observation that they had been confining their career to this far-off -corner, and her sweeping thus down on them was altogether unexpected. -She let go her partner's arm, and with drooping eye and pouting lip -prepared to follow her mother, like a naughty child detected in the -act. - -"Mrs Naylor," said Blount, "will you not speak to me?" - -"How d'ye do, Mr Blount? I was not aware you were at Clam Beach." - -"It used to be 'Walter,' and you allowed me to call you aunt. Why this -change?" - -"That was nonsense. We are not related. You are not a stripling now, -Mr Blount, and my daughters have grown to be young women since then." - -"That does not make me feel the less regard for you and them, dear Mrs -Naylor. It is not our fault that we grow older." - -"Why have you left your farm? These haunts of idleness and dissipation -are no good place for a young man who should be making his fortune. -Your stock will be straying and breaking down fences; and how is your -harvest-work to go on in your absence? I am sure your friends would -not approve if they knew." - -"I have sold the farm--sold it very well--and I shall soon be looking -out for another." - -"I am sorry to hear you are becoming unsettled. Roving from place to -place is the sure way for a young man to ruin himself. Remember the -proverb about rolling stones.... Now, Margaret, if you are ready we -will go." And drawing her daughter's arm through her own, she sailed -away, leaving Blount disconsolate. - -"I am amazed, Margaret, at your want of common-sense and proper -feeling," she began, as she led the captive back by the gallery -towards the place where she was wont to sit. But she got no further -with her harangue. Mr Peter Wilkie, coming through a window, -intercepted her retreat, requesting Margaret for the favour of a -dance. - -Margaret was declining with thanks, being in no mood for further -exercise; but her mother, whose brow had cleared at once on the -new-comer's appearance, interposed. - -"Indeed, Margaret, I think a dance would do you good. What an -oppressive evening, Mr Wilkie! We came out here for a breath of -coolness, but I do think it is better for young people not to yield. -The more you give way to the heat, Margaret, my dear, the limper you -will become. A dance with a good partner is far the best way of -throwing off the oppression." - -Margaret felt a little doubtful about the goodness of the partner, but -she said nothing, and took Mr Peter's arm without further demur. What -did it matter? Her evening was irretrievably spoilt. Besides, her -mother meant to be disagreeable--that was abundantly plain--and she -had better accept the offered deliverance. She accompanied Peter back -into the room. She laid her hand on his shoulder and they began to -dance. - -If there is no method of motion more perfect than a good waltz, there -is no purgatory so grievous as a bad one. Racing, stumbling, jolting, -and running into other couples, with the danger of getting entangled -among the feet and knees of her partner at every stride, and her ear -outraged by his disregard of the music, Margaret could only liken -their progress to a hurdle-race at a country fair, as they broke -through the bars of the music, or cleared them helter-skelter. At -length she was able to stop, and Mr Peter, somewhat giddy, and holding -on till his head grew steady, drew a long breath. - -"Heh! that was fine! The best dance I've had to-night. You and me suit -one another splendid, Miss Margaret. Let's have another turn. Are you -ready?" - -"Really, Mr Wilkie, you must let me rest a moment, I am quite out of -breath;" and she fanned herself industriously, taking care, however, -not to include the partner this time. "How oppressive it is here! Do -you not think a breath of fresh air on the gallery would be pleasant?" -and Mr Wilkie, without at all intending it, found himself promenading -in the moonlight, when he would rather have been regaling the company -with his antics in the dance. Like other rugged and ungraceful men, he -had a high opinion of his personal graces; and his doting mother, who -worshipped his very shadow, had conspired with his natural vanity to -breed a self-admiration which tempted him in expansive moments to -display himself before an admiring world. He would have liked to -exhibit under the lights in the crowded ball-room, with this fine girl -hung gracefully on his shoulder, as he knew she could pose herself; -but if that was not to be, at least she was a young person of -intelligence who could appreciate a man of talent. He resigned himself -to the comparative seclusion, stroked his chin, and cleared his voice, -preparatory to saying something smart. - -What the observation was to have been, nobody knows. It is in Limbo -with other good things which have missed their opportunity. It was -Margaret who spoke-- - -"Mr Blount! You out here! Found it too warm inside? So did we. How -pleasant it is here!" - -At that moment the music ceased. The dance was ended, and Mr Peter -Wilkie, his smart saying unsaid, found himself exchanging a -valedictory smile with his companion, who somehow had become detached -from him, and, before he well understood the situation, was wafting -away with Mr Blount, leaving him alone with his handsome shadow in the -moonlight. - - - - - CHAPTER XI. - - DISCUSSING A SUITOR. - - -Is there some connection between a maiden's tresses and the workings -of her mind? When the braids are coiled in shining order for the -captivation of the world, are her thoughts as well confined in -conventional rolls and waves conforming to the fashion of the time? -Poets love to dwell upon her "locks": can it be because they guard -her confidences that they have named them so? There is more in this -than a mere wretched pun; there is a connection between sound and -sense--involuntary, no doubt, but the beginnings of language are all -involuntary. When the hair is unbound, the mind is freed from the -trammels of convention and reserve; and this may be why, at -hair-brushing time, as I have heard, girls' tongues are wont to wag so -freely. - -There must be infinite relief to the poor little head, and brain -benumbed, when the weight of firmly drawn and twisted hair is -unbuckled and let down, and a refreshing stimulation of thought in the -action of brush and comb, spreading and airing and drawing out the -uncomfortable glory. - -Margaret and Lucy Naylor had retired for the night, but not as yet to -rest. Relieved from hair-pins, they stood before their glasses in -freedom and disarray, more charming far than when decked out to meet -the public eye, which might not, alas! be privileged to behold them -now. - -Yet doubtless there is a happiness in being handsome, for its own -sake, even if one is alone. One may legitimately rejoice in beauty -though it be one's own; and it were churlish to libel that as vanity -which is common to all things beautiful. See how the roses spread -their petals to the light, and how birds of starry plumage perch in -solitary places in the sun, to preen their feathers and display their -brilliant dyes! - -The girls were pretty seen at any time, but when busied in these -secret mysteries they were vastly more so. The glossy abundance hung -down like mantles over the pearly shoulders and far below their -waists, and the supple white arms held up and played among the falling -waves of hair, which flashed like skeins of pale and ruddy gold-thread -in the flicker of the candles. The glittering veil half hid their -smiling features, but ever and anon the eyes flashed out beneath the -shadow, more brightly than their wont, answering to lips of red, and -rows of small white teeth, and gurgling rounds of laughter. - -The doings of the evening were all gone over again, the successes won -anew; and in relation, what had seemed but trifling incidents at the -time, grew bigger, and under merry comment vastly entertaining. Lucy -had most to say. She was the chatterbox, and had much to tell about -the gentlemen she had danced with, and their sometimes rather vapid -talk. Could those lordly wiseacres have heard the _résumé_ and -description of their stiff-backed endeavours to converse and please, -they would have been surprised, and some of them not over-gratified, -at the shrewd commentaries of the pretty, timid, and not too clever -little thing they had trifled with so condescendingly. - -Margaret had much less to say, but she was in equally good spirits. It -was with a very old friend that she had mostly been passing the time, -so there was nothing to tell, though Lucy looked a little incredulous -when she said as much; but her evening had been none the less pleasant -on that account, to judge from her ready appreciation of her sister's -fun. - -There was a knock while the talk was at its briskest, but in the -babblement and laughter it was not heard. The knock was repeated, and -this time the speaker stopped short in the middle of a sentence, and -both turned round and looked at each other. - -"It is mamma," whispered Lucy. - -Margaret's countenance fell; she even frowned a little. Something -unpleasant was going to happen, she felt sure. - -"Let's blow out the lights and jump into bed," suggested Lucy. - -"No use," said Margaret. "Open the door and get it over as quickly as -possible. I shan't say a word, and she will run herself out of breath -the sooner." - -"Nonsense!" and Lucy blew out one of the candles as she spoke. "She -will forget about it in the morning if we fall asleep now. I don't -want to have the feeling of a well-spent day spoilt by a lecture." - -The knock was repeated more peremptorily than before. It was too late -to pretend unconsciousness now. Margaret went sullenly to the door and -admitted her mother. - -"What an uproar you two girls are making in here--din enough for a -dozen--chattering like magpies, and laughing at this hour of the -night, when decent people are in their beds! Nice complaints and -remarks the people in adjoining rooms will make to-morrow!--though -they may not venture to speak to _me_ about it," she added grandly, as -if she dared any one to take that liberty. "But that makes it worse. -We cannot explain or set them right when they tattle behind our backs, -and the stories will grow bigger and worse, till no one knows what -they may come to.... You thoughtless pair! Lucy there speaking at the -very tip of her voice. It will be a wonder if the people through the -partitions do not know every word she has been saying--something, most -likely, which will do her no credit. Mrs Chickenpip, I may tell you, -is your neighbour on that side, and she does not spare people who -annoy her. For your own sakes you had better respect her slumbers. She -passed when I was hammering at your door, and she looked many things -at me which good manners prevent people from saying; but she will find -an opportunity of expressing them to some one else, or I am mistaken." - -"Tiresome old cat," said Lucy. "No one will mind her. She is too grim -and proper. Nobody heeds what childless old women say about young -people." - -"Old women? She is younger than I am. Would you speak of your own -mother----?" - -"Oh no, mammy dear! Nobody thinks of its own pretty mamma in that -way;" and she threw her arms round her mother's neck. - -"Have done, Lucy! I am in no mood for fooling, I assure you. Let me -alone, and be quiet. It was you, Margaret, that I wanted to talk to. -We must come to an understanding at once. This kind of thing which has -been going on down-stairs must come to an end. I have been -inexpressibly shocked and pained. It is more than my poor health can -stand. Would you bring my hair with sorrow to the grave?" ... "Grey -hairs with sorrow to the grave," was the Scriptural quotation which -had come into her mind; but even to make a rhetorical point, she felt -that she could not afford to attribute greyness to her carefully -tended braids. She put up her hand and stroked them tenderly, which -disturbed the thread of her argument, and she came to a stop, with her -eyes resting reproachfully on her elder daughter. - -Margaret was aware that she had better let the lecture run itself -down. Interruptions, she knew by experience, acted like winding up a -clock, and set it off again, tick-tack, on a refreshed career. She -bore the reproachful gaze in silence as long as she was able, but at -last it grew too much for her, and rather sullenly she answered-- - -"What do you mean, mother?" - -"You know very well what I mean. Have I not told you many times that -that childish nonsense with young Blount must be given up?" - -"Is it our engagement you mean?" Margaret answered, with heightened -colour. She knew that she was unwise to speak, but her temper was -rising. It always _would_ rise, she knew not how, when her mother -spoke of "young Blount." - -"Your what?" her mother cried, indignantly. "I will not hear of such a -thing. I have forbidden you to be engaged to him. You shan't be -engaged to him; and now that you force me to it, I forbid you to speak -to him. An abominable young man!--worming himself deceitfully into -families where he is not wanted. Was there ever anything so -ungentlemanlike as his sneaking down here after us, although he had -been as good as forbidden the house at home? He had not the candour to -come to me and say, 'Mrs Naylor, I am here;' but slyly waylays you in -a crowded ball-room, to hold surreptitious interviews. I never heard -of anything so atrocious in my life. I could not have believed it. But -it rewards me for my imprudence in taking up a stranger, merely to -oblige your uncle Joseph, and being kind to him--warming a viper in my -bosom, that he might turn and sting me!" - -This was fine, and Mrs Naylor stopped for breath. - -"You have no right to say such things, mother," Margaret answered, -hotly. "Walter never was ungentlemanlike. He could not be, if he were -to try. And he is no sneak. He is as brave and honest as the day; and -I have heard you say as much yourself, formerly, when he used to visit -us. You often said he was the nicest young man of your acquaintance." - -"And this is the reward of my ill-judged hospitality--having him come -to me with your uncle, when you were both children! I see my -imprudence now; but at least my daughter might spare me," and Mrs -Naylor put her handkerchief to her eyes. "That a mother's solicitude -should be taunted thus, by the very child she is trying to shield from -the effects of her injudicious good-nature! Oh, Margaret, you are -cruel!" - -Margaret felt shocked with herself. To think that she should bring -tears to her mother's eyes! How hard and obdurate she must surely be! -She had never felt so wicked in all her life before. Yet how to mend -it? She would gladly do anything to pacify and soothe her wounded -mother--anything but give up Walter; and that was the only thing which -would be of any avail. She forbore to say more in his defence, -however--in fact she could not have trusted her voice to keep steady -or say anything just then; and as she saw the handkerchief still at -her mother's eyes, her own began to overflow. She was contrite, -without attempting to particularise on what account, and very unhappy. - -Mrs Naylor saw that her demonstration had told, and made haste to -improve the advantage. She put her handkerchief back in her pocket and -cleared her voice. - -"It is for your own sake I am so solicitous, Margaret. It is you he is -trying to marry. You can marry but once, remember. Think how momentous -is this step you are so blindly eager to take. Your whole future life -depends on it." - -"We are fond of one another, mother, and he is good and true. What -more can a girl want?" - -"Much, my dear. You talk like an inexperienced simpleton. How -differently you will look on things in ten years' time! People cannot -live--perhaps for fifty years--like turtles in a nest, in one -continued round of billing and cooing. They must eat and dress -themselves every day; and to do that nicely takes a deal of money, -more than your friend is likely ever to earn." - -"I do not want to be rich. The rich people we know are not so nice, I -am sure. Few of them are gentlemen." - -"I know, my dear. I understand you perfectly. Love in a cottage, and -that sort of thing. When I was a girl, the novels were full of it, and -it was very pretty. The novels are much more sensible nowadays, and it -is strange that the young people who read them should still be as -foolish as ever." - -"I do not think life without love would be worth the having." - -"Of course not, my shepherdess! It would be charming to sit in the -woods always, holding a crook tied with nice fresh blue satin ribbon, -and a straw hat cocked on one side, a pet lamb at one's feet, and a -swain beside one to whistle tunes upon a reed, like the Dresden-china -figures; but when a shower came, and the ribbons got wet, it would be -but a draggle-tailed diversion, believe me. Remember the old saying, -'When poverty comes in at the door, love flies out of the window.' You -can't make love on an empty stomach. Housekeeping knocks a deal of the -romance out of life." - -"Walter has money, mother. With mine added, we shall be quite well -off." - -"I think, Margaret, if I had been pleading a gentleman's cause, I -would not have put him in the invidious light of requiring a wife's -fortune to enrich him. It sounds mercenary. Not that I wish to speak -unkindly of your friend; but he lays himself open to the suspicion of -fortune-hunting, by running after a girl with your prospects. Your -uncle is not likely to marry, and you might look so very much higher, -if you only had common-sense." - -"I don't know where I should look for 'higher.' You have always said -that his people were an excellent family in England." - -"We are Canadians, my dear. Good connections in England will not help -him much with us, unless they are bankers. He is a younger son, and -his brother has children, so his prospect of ever coming to the family -property is not worth counting. He has got all they can afford to give -him, and is a fixture on this side the Atlantic for life." - -"He is better off than most young men. Yet see how quickly some of -them get on, and rise to the top." - -"_He_ will never rise, my dear. He has not been trained for getting on -in this country. He will not spend as little as our young men do, and -he has not the first idea of how to make a fortune." - -"He would not be half as nice if he had." - -"My dear, you talk like a child. When people advance into middle life, -mere lovemaking grows to be up-hill work. It would be grotesque, if it -had not become too insipid for people to attempt keeping it up. The -larger interests are needed to make middle life bearable. It is -gratifying then to find that one has married a man of note--some one -heard of everywhere, and spoken of by everybody. With your looks and -accomplishments and prospects, there is no man you may not have the -refusal of. How comfortable, when one grows elderly and uninteresting, -to be wife of the chief-justice, or of a senator, and receive as much -attention in old age as one has been accustomed to in youth! An -ex-beauty poorly married is a disappointed and a discontented woman, -let me tell you." - -"Walter could go into politics if he liked; and if he ever does, he -must rise to the top, he is so clever and well informed." - -"Not he. He will never be more than he is now. He is too much of an -Englishman, and too fixed in his notions, ever to catch the tone of -his neighbours." - -"He is a gentleman. Why should he take the tone of people less -cultured than himself?" - -"He won't. That's where the trouble is. And therefore his neighbours -will never really like him. They will fancy he looks down on them. -They will never send him to Parliament, mark my words, however hard he -may try. If they elect him reeve of his township, or a school-trustee, -it is the most they will ever do for him. - -"Playing country gentleman does not answer, my dear. It has been often -tried. I have seen so many half-pay officers and others buy land, and -start as country gentlemen, and it always ended the same way. In a few -years their ready money was spent, and they could not move away. Their -farms were worse cultivated than their neighbours', and less -productive; and their children, rough and unkempt, grew up neither one -thing nor another--neither gentle nor simple--with the pretensions of -a class which did not care to accept them, and without the industry -and thrift to keep them up in the one into which they were sinking. - -"Have nothing to do with the land in this country, my dear; or marry a -greedy and hard-working clown at once. Your children, at least, may -come to be somebody in that case, though you will lead a drudge's life -yourself." - -"I am ready to risk it, mother, however it may turn out. A crust in -the woods with the man of my choice, rather than all the splendour you -can mention, without him." - -"You are infatuated! Reason is thrown away on you. I wonder at my own -patience in attempting to argue with you so long. But at least you -shall not ruin your life if I can help it. If you will not send away -this pernicious young man, I must carry you away from him. He shall -find that however his persecution may inconvenience us, it shall -further his schemes not a jot.... You will pack up to-morrow, girls, -first thing. Come down to breakfast in your travelling dresses. We -leave by the first train tomorrow forenoon;" and so saying, she left -the room. - -"Oh, Margaret!" sighed Lucy in despair; "and we had the prospect of -such a good time before us." - -"What could I have said, Lucy, except what I did?" - -"I don't know; but it is awfully disgusting." - - - - - CHAPTER XII. - - TO NAHANT? - - -It was about three in the morning. The lights had been extinguished -in the ball-room, and the house was still. The casements of -sleeping-rooms were darkening one by one as their inmates composed -themselves to rest. A footfall on the gallery outside mingled with the -tick of the clock on the staircase, which, in the stillness of the -hour, sent monotonous vibrations through the timbers of the wooden -house. - -Backward and forward the walker paced, diffusing the thin smoke of his -cigar upon the salt-smelling air. It was cool and even chilly as -morning drew near. Already the sky had grown pale low down beyond the -sea. The waters by contrast had grown more black and forbidding; and -with the regular steady growl of the rollers breaking on the beach, it -seemed like a monster watching at the portals of the day. - -Backward and forth paced Joseph Naylor, too wakeful to sleep, and -without even a wish to turn in. There was nothing painful in his -ruminations, nothing to agitate; and no point of difficulty had arisen -on which it was necessary for him to decide. Looking at himself in -that state of divided consciousness in which one half the mind notes -and surveys the workings of the other, he appeared scarcely to think -at all. There was little of sequence or progress in the images among -which he drifted, and the faculties of judging, choosing, desiring, -intending, were not in use. There was rather a feeling of contented -fruition overhanging his spirit like a golden mist, in which he seemed -to bathe and be at rest. - -Far back, before he had learned sorrow, he had known this sense of -peace, a glimpse of Paradise from which he had been snatched away, and -the gates closed after him with a clang. Looking seaward, the black -expanse spread out, with low reverberating sound, seemed a symbol of -his long-drawn years of desolation, a barrier between him and the -faintly brightening east. To-night he seemed to overpass that gulf, -and feel again the blessedness of a young bridegroom--without a wish, -because he touched the goal of his desires, swimming in contentment, -and breathing the scent of orange-flowers and garlands. He seemed to -be inhaling it even now. - -There had been a time when to recall these feelings would have driven -him mad--when he had set his teeth, and turned his mind away from the -memory of what had grown to be an agony, and which dogged him night -and day like the remorse of some great crime. As time wore on, his -life had grown more tolerable, in grey and joyless wise, with the -aftermath of sober peace which sedulous virtue can rear even on the -stubble of youth's luxuriant crop cut down and borne away. Yet even -then, to finger the old wounds was to make them bleed anew--to -remember the past was to recall his sorrow. - -To-night, what change had come over him? He seemed living again in the -happiness of the bygone time. He felt young as he had not felt in -twenty years. He could dwell on the old joys and feel no sting; recall -the image of his lost without a pang--so young and tender, with her -soft brown eyes and clinging touch lingering still so kindly on his -retentive sense. There was no feeling of loss to-night, no raging pang -of impotent hungry jealousy. - -He seemed dwelling in the fragrance of her presence; and the image of -his new friend, his deliverer, was with him too, so like and yet so -different from the other. The sunny warmth in those full brown eyes -had beamed on him with a reviving and invigorating glow, which had -thawed and quickened his poor frost-bound nature like the coming of -another spring. How different the two images were! And yet, when he -strove to separate and compare them in his mind, how strangely they -ran together, and blended like fluid shapes into something vaguely -sweet and dear, which would not be resolved into either definite form! - -A hand was laid lightly on his shoulder, and he turned his head, -preoccupied still with the images of his waking dream. - -"I have found you at last, and at leisure," said a voice at his elbow. -"You have been so busy all the evening, and I could not turn in till I -had had a word with you." - -"Walter! You? What is it?" - -"What is this about going to Boston to-morrow? Margaret is as much -taken by surprise as I am." - -"Going to Boston? I know nothing of it. What do you mean?" - -"Mrs Naylor told Margaret in my hearing they were going to Boston -to-morrow." - -"We came here intending to remain a month at least. Our rooms are -only taken for a fortnight, to be sure, in case we should not like it; -but if we do--and I thought we were getting on nicely--we were to -stay. At least that was my idea. But--ah! I see--Walter, you scamp! -This comes of your unexpected appearance. You should be ashamed -of yourself--disturbing a quiet family in this fashion. What a -dangerous character you must be, when the sight of you frightens a -middle-aged lady so much that she is going to pack up and run away, -before--before----Bless my soul! how many days have we been here? It -seems a long time, but it is not a week, not four---- We have been -here only two days! - -"Yes; now I think of it, my sister has been hovering round me a good -deal this evening. I daresay she has been trying to get speech of me. -And I was conceited enough to think it was unwarrantable curiosity on -the part of Mrs Caleb, watching what I was about." - -"You _were_ a little different from your usual to-night, Mr Naylor. I -never saw you mind young ladies much before. Tonight it has been -impossible to get hold of you." - -"That may have been the young ladies' fault, my boy. It is not every -one of them who knows how to be good company. Naturally, a man at my -time of day is less susceptible to the pink and white in a -schoolgirl's face than you young fellows are. There is a time for -bread and butter, and a time for other things. Solomon says so." - -"I don't think any one should call Margaret a bread-and-butter miss," -Walter answered, hotly. - -"Margaret is a good girl, and smart--though perhaps I should not say -so, who remember her a squealing baby--but she would not care to waste -her evening in amusing an old uncle, when the fiddlers were around, -and so many young fellows to mind her." - -"And what about Boston, then? Do you mean to go? Or will you allow Mrs -Naylor to take her daughters there, and break up the very pleasant -party here?" - -"I do not see that Mrs Caleb's going to Boston would break up the -party here;" and there was a tone in Joseph's voice, as he said it, -which betokened a smile, though there was not light enough to see it. -"It is natural that she should want to get her girls away from a too -fascinating detrimental. - -"You are a sad fellow, Walter--running about the world to frighten -fond mothers, and compromise the prospects of young ladies." - -"I can afford to marry, Mr Naylor. You know it. You know all about my -circumstances and my connections. You have admitted to me that I might -fairly enough go in and win if I could." - -"I am not the girl's mother, my good fellow. If I recollect aright, I -said 'Wait.' That is what I would say to you again, after the lapse of -hardly three months. Your patience seems to me of the shortest. You -must wait, my boy--wait." - -"Wait till another fellow comes forward and unsettles her mind! Stand -aside, and let him step in and win her! Would you do that yourself?" - -"I don't know. You speak from the gentleman's point of view, you see. -It is from the lady's side, and with a view to her interests, that I -must consider things. Her mother's feeling is perfectly natural. It is -from no objection to yourself that she wishes to stave you off. -Margaret has seen nothing of the world. It is fair that she should -know what she is giving up if she marries a backwoodsman." - -"She does not object to the backwoods." - -"She has seen too little of life in the front to realise what she -would be giving up. You have influenced her fancy, and she sees with -your eyes for the moment. By-and-by she might think differently, and -if it were too late it would be bad for you both. You must really have -patience, and give her time." - -"But----" - -"Oh yes; there is plenty to say on the other side, Walter. You and I -might talk a long time, but I fear neither would convince the other. -Meanwhile, it is time we were both in bed. The lights are going out -all over the house. Good night." - -Joseph took his candle and went up-stairs. The light from a door ajar -fell on him as he threaded the dim corridor, bordered with boots of -sleeping guests. - -"Joseph!" in a vehement whisper reached his ears. He turned, and his -sister-in-law, in dressing-gown and shawl, stood before him. - -"How late you are of retiring! I have watched and waited for your -passing till I am completely knocked up. Ah! my poor back! and my head -aches dreadfully." - -"Get to bed. Late hours are always hurtful." - -"I could not lie down till I had seen you. I _must_ speak to you. And -you have lingered so long." - -"We cannot talk here--disturbing people, and being overheard. You are -scarcely in trim for the parlour. Besides, the lights are out. It is -very late, and I am awfully sleepy." - -"Come in here. Improper?--Dear me!" and Mrs Naylor smiled -sarcastically. "Our age will save our characters, Joseph, I should -think. However, I will leave the door open." - -"Well?" asked Joseph, following in reluctantly, "what is it--which -will not keep till morning? Let's cut it as short as possible." - -"Do you know that young Blount is here?" - -"Yes." - -"What are we to do?" - -"I see no occasion to do anything." - -"He may have Margaret engaged and committed any half-hour they are -alone together." - -"If she is willing, I do not see why he should not." - -"Joseph Naylor! Is that the interest you take in poor Caleb's -fatherless daughter? And you call yourself her guardian!" - -"Well? What would you have me do?" - -"Remove us at once. Then she is not compromised by any exhibition of -intimacy there may have been this evening. I have been thinking of -Nahant. It is an extravagant place, I know; but we can stop and have a -couple of days' shopping in Boston on the way. Will you arrange for -our starting by the forenoon train?" - -"To-morrow morning! Do you forget that your rooms here are engaged for -a fortnight?--could not have got them for a shorter time--and there -are still eleven days to run?" - -"I know. We must pay for the fortnight, of course. Another obligation -to add to the many we owe your favourite." - -"But you will find Nahant dull, I fear. It is not a place many -Canadians go to, and you have no New England friends. Will it not be -lonesome for you and the girls to look on at the gaieties, without -even a man to stand beside you in the crowd?" - -His sister-in-law turned and looked at him questioningly. Joseph, as -she knew, was not aggressively self-asserting, but this was -self-effacement beyond any modesty she could have believed. - -"You will do very nicely, Joseph," she said, encouragingly. "You are -presentable anywhere, and--well--almost distinguished-looking, let me -tell you; and you give our party far more weight than if you were -younger. And then you are so clever about making friends with the -nicest people within reach. We shall do capitally." - -Joseph opened his eyes and smiled, to hear his sister-in-law sum him -up to his face so patronisingly. "You are too appreciative of my small -merits, Susan. Pray spare me. But I had no idea of joining in your -escapade. Clam Beach is perfectly good enough for me. I shall not -dream of leaving it before my fortnight is up; and quite likely, if I -continue to like it, I shall stay on for three or four weeks longer." - -"Do you mean that you will let us roam away over the United -States--your poor dead brother's helpless widow and orphans--without a -protector? I could not have believed it, Joseph. But--ah! I can see it -all!--designing girl--this evening----" - -Mrs Naylor grew disjointed and confused, and finally stuck fast in the -middle of a sentence which she could not properly be said to have -begun; having merely betrayed, in her irritation, a wish "to carry the -war into Africa"--or at least, since Joseph was so unsympathetic in -her concerns, to discuss his own in a similar spirit. But there came -the look into his face of a man who will not be trifled with, and who -chooses to introduce the subject himself, when his affairs are to be -mentioned; and between surprise, and having nothing exactly to -say--though in another mood there would have been an opening for -banter and insinuation--the thread of her ideas gave way, and she -stopped short. - -Joseph's brow cleared as quickly as it had darkened, so soon as Susan -had checked herself; but he said nothing, and after waiting in silence -for a minute and a half, he turned on his heel, saying-- - -"That is all you have to tell me, I suppose? Good night." - -"Stop, Joseph! You have told me nothing. What am I to do? Do you -really mean that you will not come with us?" - -"That is what I mean." - -"You propose to keep us here against our will, and to hand that poor -misguided child Margaret over to such a fate? I would not have -believed it of you, Joseph." - -"I have no power to keep you here against your will, Susan, any more -than you have the right to drag me away against mine. If I can do -anything short of that to pleasure you, name it. My cheque-book is -freely at your service, if you insist on going to Nahant, where you -will find your expenses ten times as heavy as here." - -"I don't want your cheque-book. Poor Caleb took care we should be -provided for. And very fortunate it is, too,"--which was an ungracious -and uncalled-for observation; but all things, as Joseph thought, are -pardonable in an angry woman. - -"And what am I to do," she continued, "with this young man? He will -drive me distracted. I know he will." - -"Accept what you cannot prevent, Susan; and save yourself the worry of -struggling against the inevitable. Let them have their way. Do it -soon, and make a favour of it; and you will be in a position to -stipulate for long delay. When Walter is a year or two older, he will -have had enough of the wilds, and be willing to settle down in a -civilised neighbourhood." - -"But Margaret ought to do so much better. I cannot resign myself to -the idea of her sinking into a farmer's wife. I have a right to expect -position for her--the best the Province can afford. Why should she not -live in Toronto and lead society?"--which, perhaps, you may deem a -small ambition, my British reader; yet it is precisely what all -mankind are born to feel. Ambition is the same everywhere, but its -object varies with the latitude and longitude. There are actually -people as eager to be first in Timbuctoo and Bokhara, as any one you -may know to be of the best in London. - -"As Blount's wife," answered Joseph, "she will be all right socially; -and between what she has from her father, and what she may look for -from her uncle, she does not need to consider whether her husband is a -rich man or not." - -"I intended her to be in the middle of everything. For what else did I -take so much trouble with her education?" - -"She does not seem to mind about that herself." - -"And there were chances for her here, if Blount would have stayed -away. There is that clever Mr Wilkie, and young Walter Petty, both -evidently well inclined to her." - -"I think Margaret's preference shows good taste and good sense. Blount -is a gentleman, and his people have a property in Wales. If you want -connection, he is the best of the three." - -"He is a younger son. His prospects don't amount to much, or he would -have stayed at home; while Mr Wilkie----" - -"A worthy person. A rising man, if you like----" - -"Mrs Petty would give her eyes to get him for Ann." - -"Very likely. But he is not to compare with Blount; though I do not -blame him for that. There is a kind of person which must be born and -bred, though it is not the kind which makes its way in the world the -best. For myself, I sympathise with Margaret's taste." - -"I declare, I think that young fellow has turned your head! But he -_shan't_ be your nephew, for all his scheming, if I can prevent it.... -If you will not take us to Nahant, I suppose we must stay here. We -would have to invent so many excuses if we went straight back home; -though it would be serving Margaret just right if we did. But she -shall stay at my side and under my eye while we remain here; Mr Blount -shall gain nothing by it. The worry and botheration will injure me, I -know, and may even have the worst consequences; but it will be your -fault, Joseph Naylor, and some day, when it is too late, you will -regret it. I would not have believed that it was in you to be so -unkind." - -"Good night," said Joseph, getting away at last; and before many -minutes more, he too was one of the army of sleepers. - - - - - CHAPTER XIII. - - MAIDA SPRINGER. - - -The succeeding week was a time of depression, waiting, watching, and -general tantalisation for Margaret Naylor and Walter Blount. -Margaret's mother was more cross and more watchful than Argus or -duenna had ever been before. The only consolation--as Joseph, pitying -the lad's despair, found with some remorse that he had let fall--was, -that such preternatural vigilance could not last; or if it did, that -Margaret would be goaded to desperation and rebel. - -Interchange of glances even was denied the hapless lovers. Mrs Naylor -intercepted, so to speak, an [oe]illade in its flight across the -breakfast-room on the first morning of the siege, and sternly insisted -that her daughter should change places forthwith to the other side of -the table, and turn her back to the enemy. - -To save appearances, while acting jailer on the girl, Mrs Naylor made -a martyr of herself, and moved about under a load of superabundant -clothing--wrapping herself in shawls and wearing a wisp of knitting -upon her head on days when her brother-in-law was wishing himself a -wild Indian, that he might dress in a coat of paint. Mrs Naylor was -"poorly,"--she felt premonitions of ague, a threatening of neuralgia, -and, of course, severe "headache"; at least so the ladies agreed, on -comparing notes, after making tender inquiries--each anxious to make -sure there was nothing infectious, so as to steal away quietly before -the general panic and stampede which would ensue if there were. - -"Just a case of general all-overishness, my dears," said Mrs Carraway, -"arising from change to this bracing air, after the sickly heats of -Upper Canada. I had a touch of it myself, on coming first. There is so -much salt and ozone down here." - -"I should say it was a case of hypochondria," observed Mrs Chickenpip, -who, being serious and robust in her views, was given to cultivate -truth at the expense of charity. "I am sure we do wrong in encouraging -her to make-believe, by showing so much sympathy. If you had seen, as -I did, the breakfast she made this morning, you would think less of -her ailments." - -"That's not always a sign," said Mrs Wilkie. "Look at _me_ now. I eat -hearty. I'm always best at meal-times; but an hour after, I'm just -fairly done, and my heart thumpin' like a smiddie hammer." - -"Not at all to be wondered at," Mrs Chickenpip retorted, below her -breath. "If people will over-eat, they must expect to be -uncomfortable,"--a remark which passed unheard. - -"How do you feel to-day, Mrs Wilkie?" was more audible. It was Rose -Hillyard who spoke. - -"Ah, my dear, it's you? I'm glad to see you. I'm only so-so, between -the heat and the palpitations; but I think the homoeopathy is doing me -good. I think the lady we are speakin' about should try some of it." - -"Have you been taking any more powders?" asked Rose, smiling at the -recollection of the cloud of "poother" she had seen issue from the old -lady's mouth. - -"Just wan each day. I haven't forgot how kind you were to me the first -day. I have been better ever since." - -"You blew that one all away, I think." - -"It did me good all the same, my dear; and I won't forget your -kindness givin' it to me. And if ever I can say a good word for you, -I'll do it, ye may rely;" and the old thing actually winked, to Rose's -no small indignation--on which Lettice Deane gave her a pinch in the -arm, and ran away to hide her uproarious laughter. - -Mrs Wilkie having dispensed her morsel of patronage, drew herself up -and coughed behind her finger-tips; then, thinking that perhaps she -had shown too marked a preference among candidates, she turned to Mrs -Petty and inquired for Miss Ann, observing that she thought her a nice -girl. - -Mrs Naylor led Margaret a life which afforded her ample opportunity to -repent her perverseness, had that been possible. From the time she -left her room in the morning, she kept the girl at her side, to read -to her when she sat, or support her with an arm when she took a walk. -In the evening she kept her still at her elbow; and though she -sometimes allowed her to dance, she had her back again at her side the -moment the dance was ended. The other ladies were charmed and -impressed by these signs of so devoted an attachment between mother -and daughter, and both rose immensely in public esteem, which perhaps -consoled them in their utter boredom with one another. In her heart, -the mother would have liked to whip the intractable girl, while the -girl, in hers, was sorely tempted to run away; but public opinion and -the conventions kept both up to their pretty behaviour--and the -artist's satisfaction in doing a thing really well, and being -applauded for it, was assuredly an alleviation in the long and weary -game of make-believe. - -Mrs Wilkie praised Margaret as a good biddable girl, and confided to -every one who cared to listen, "that she would be quite pleased if -Peter would take a fancy to her; though, to be sure, there was that -Miss Hillyard, a most superior person,--and it was doubtful to which -he would incline." Mrs Petty thought her the sweetest-tempered heiress -she had ever seen, wished she could secure her for her boy Walter, and -became the inseparable companion of mother and daughter. - -By the third day of Mrs Naylor's sickness, she found herself the -recipient of so much attention, that she became quite reconciled to -her _rôle_--liked it almost--and might, I suppose, be taken as of that -curious class of people of whom it is recorded in newspapers that they -"enjoy poor health." Mrs Petty fairly laid siege to the regard of -mother and daughter, and old Mrs Wilkie sought the society of the two -mothers, who paid her unlimited attention in return, each protesting -to the other that it was quite a lark to quiz the simple soul, while -both were devoutly hoping that she would accept their blandishments in -good faith, and influence her son accordingly. Soon other ladies -joined the coterie--Mrs Deane with Lettice and Rose, and others; and -then bachelors began to hover on the confines of the circle--till the -sick lady's chair became a centre for whatever was going on. - -Walter Blount growled at being of those outside, and was very -down-hearted, though he struggled his best. He cultivated his favoured -rival Walter Petty, waylaid Lucy, who was not under surveillance, -several times a-day, and intrusted her with messages to her sister. -There was Joseph, too, from whom he could extract sympathy at least; -and then there was the sight of his charmer's back hair, always in -view at the dinner-table, reminding him how near she was, "if still so -far"--which was something, but not enough; and after a week, he -removed his base of operations to Lippenstock, a few miles along the -coast, where, being out of sight, he could mitigate the severity of -Margaret's durance, though still within touch of whatever went on at -Clam Beach. - -He might have had others, who would have been happy to distract his -thoughts, but he could think only of the one, and was indifferent to -other society; whence it arose that he spent a good deal of his time -alone, and interested many a tender heart in his behalf. - -"Who can he be?" Fanny Payson asked Lettice Deane. "And what is the -matter with him? Did you ever see so young a fellow, so handsome and -so down in the mouth, at a watering-place before? _I_ never did. He -should turn hermit, or join the Shakers. They live quite near. He is -no sort of use here, and quite out of place. He minds nobody, and I am -sure I have given him every chance." - -"He is not altogether a stranger. He has friends here. He knows the -Naylors. I see him sometimes with Lucy, and he is often with the -uncle, whom Rose Hillyard has chosen to inthral. I suspect he is only -a retiring young man, and painfully shy. What would you say to our -taking him in hand, and teaching him how nice he might become? He is a -fine manly-looking fellow, and our hands are not very full just now. -It would make us feel 'kind o' useful in our generation,' as my uncle -Zebedee says, to draw him out. Suppose you and I form ourselves into a -Geneva Red Cross Branch Society, to cure his bashfulness, and teach -him how to flirt." - -"It can't be done, Lettice. I have tried, and I guess you'll allow I'm -a qualified practitioner. The trouble I've taken! And all for nothing. -I should feel downright mean about it, if I wasn't sure the man's a -loon." - -"What brings him to Clam Beach, I wonder?" - -"That I can't imagine. But he's of no account here. He evidently -believes his eyes were only given him to see with; as for _looking_, -he has no more notion of it than a stone wall. I have given him the -very nicest and most varied opportunities--you know he sits opposite -me at table. I have tried every variety of assault, from pensive up to -arch, and he seems absolutely impervious. I doubt even if he could -distinguish me from the chair I sit on, and yet I have gone so far as -actually to ask him to pass the butter. He just looks steadily past -me, as if his attention was fixed on what went on at the table -behind." - -Maida Springer likewise observed the young misanthrope, felt -interested in him, and discussed him with Mrs Denwiddie. "He has a -history, that young man," she would say; and she would sigh as she -said it, as if to imply that there were others who had histories as -well. "It's a heart history too, and not a happy one; and he has just -come here, I do believe, to try if he can't learn to bear it. He is -seeking to drown memory with sounds of mirth and fashionable -dissipation; but he finds it a hollow mockery, just as others have -done, and he wanders down upon the wave-beat shore, and listens to the -ever-sounding sea, and it kind o' calms him, and he comes back feelin' -better--just like the rest. Ah yes!--as I have done myself." - -"You, my dear, with a history? Ah yes! to be sure. You mentioned it -one day. Your friend went away without proposin', I think you said? -It may have been mean of him--I can't say; or it may have been a -mistake of your own. Girls are so ready to fool themselves that way. -It don't folly that the man was in fault. If a man only passes them -the apple-sarse with a smile, there are women who will call it a -particular attention." - -"I didn't mention anything of the kind," the other answered tartly, -turning to go away; but no one of her friends whom she could join was -in sight, so she changed her intention, and proceeded to bestow on her -cross-grained companion "a bit of her mind." - -"You appear to think it a grand thing to have been able to get -yourself married, Mrs Denwiddie, and you seem disposed to look down on -every young woman who is still single; but you don't tell what _kind_ -of man you got, and you forget that if everybody was willing to take -what offered, there would be no single folks left. We may have been -too particular, we single women, but the married ones have no call to -despise us for that." - -"No offence, my dear," said Mrs Denwiddie, who really could not afford -to quarrel with her chief intimate. "I was just speaking in the -gineral." - -"And so was I, ma'am; and don't you forget it. I'm going home on -Friday, and as there's few you are likely to pick up with much when -I'm gone, except the single ladies, I would strongly recommend you to -respect their feelin's, and not brag too much about havin' been -married. They could have been married too, if they'd have took what -offered--like some others." - -"Hoity-toity, my dear! I said 'no offence.' But you're all that -tetchy, you old--hm--but never mind. I'm sorry you're going. I for one -will miss you. I did not think the schools at Montpelier took up so -soon. I expected that you and me would have been leaving at the same -time, in about three weeks." - -"I have arrangements to make at our ladies' college. They are adding a -class of Metaphysics and Political Economy, and Miss Rolph, our -principal, says I would get it if I wasn't so young." - -"And well you would teach economy too, my dear, to judge by the neat -way your gloves and slippers is mended. And it's a thing girls have -much need to learn, if only there was some one who knew it; but the -mothers of town-bred girls are ez extravagant mostly ez themselves. -But how old must a woman be before she is qualified to teach economy? -Strikes me, if they don't know it when they're young, they'll never -know it." - -"This is metaphysics and political economy. That means running the -State, not household management. Miss Rolph's establishment is devoted -to the higher culture. We leave the affairs of common life to -elementary schools. Miss Rolph says a woman should be forty and a -formed character before she ventures to instil these grand subjects -into the American woman of the future. I won't be thirty till my next -birthday." - -"You don't mean that, my dear? You'll be a married woman, I hope, -before you're old enough to go lecterin' about physic, on them terms. -And I don't hold with women-doctors, let me tell you. They hain't got -strength in their arms to pull out a good-sized tooth; and as for -intelleck, I can't abide a woman of intelleck. But you're different, -my dear, and you're young yet--in a way; and you do yourself -injestice, let me tell you. What makes you dress so severe? A veil -would save your eyes as good as them blue glasses you wear out of -doors, and be a sight more becomin'. You can't expect to fetch a young -man with a look that comes filterin' to him through coloured glass. -And I'd put on more style, if I was as young as you, my dear, and buy -me a new _jupong_ out of Bosting. There's nothing like stylish -clothes, my dear, when you're young; and you'll never be younger." - -Maida felt positively grateful and soothed at the old woman's prattle. -It takes so very small a crumb of personal interest to cheer and warm -the hearts of lonely ones. The schoolma'am was by herself in the -world, earning her own living, and battling her solitary way in life. -Those among whom she lived employed her at what she could do, paid -her, and that was the end of it. They had their own concerns and -interests. When Maida's work was done, they let her go her way,--a -drop in the river, a unit in the crowd, into whose life they were not -called on to intrude, and who would have shrunk from pushing herself -into theirs. She could have kissed Mrs Denwiddie, had the situation -been more favourable; as it was, she drew closer to her in their walk -upon the sands, rubbing against her dumbly, as the animals do when -they find a friend, and felt warmed in doing it. - -Mrs Denwiddie understood, and a motherly instinct awoke within her, -which was new and pleasant--a fresh interest in the monotony of a life -in which the bells for meals had been the only landmark. - - - - - CHAPTER XIV. - - SUNSET AND MOONSHINE. - - -Friday arrived, the omnibus came round to the door, and Maida Springer -bade Mrs Denwiddie farewell. Circumstances had made these two -intimate, though they had little in common. Both were solitary, and -neither had the talent of attracting strangers. They were a mutual -resource, keeping each other in countenance, and enabling both to mix -in the general company without the apologetic feeling which either -would have experienced had she been alone. They had grown to have a -kindness for each other; and it was with quite a warm embrace and a -moistening of the eye that they parted, each feeling the world emptier -for the absence of the other. - -The omnibus started in the afternoon, trundling leisurely along the -quiet country roads, stopping here and there by the way to put down or -take up baskets and an occasional passenger; and on reaching Narwhal -Junction it remained there for some hours, till a train from the -North, another from the South, and a third going West, should all have -come in. - -Maida procured a paper at the bookstall, and sat down on the platform -to await her train, which was the latest of the three. There was not -much in the paper--there never is, when one tries to read it against -time; but there were a few arrivals and departures by the other -trains, to break the tedium; and as the dusty afternoon wore by, and -the lengthening purple shadows stole out from their lurking-places in -the woods and under the hill-tops, there was enough to interest any -one who had eyes to see. - -The Junction stood on a middle level, near the edge of a wide extent -of cultivated land which sloped down towards a quiet river flowing -away behind; and beyond that were low swelling hills, covered with -woods, shining like bronze where they caught the slanting light, and -melting into waves of blue below the horizon. In front, toward the -south-west, the land sloped up to meet the shadows of overhanging -thickets, dipping down on the right where a brook in its rocky dell -escaped from the mountain country farther back, filling the air with -sound, and babbled onward to the river among the fields. Hills shaggy -with bush and boulder concealed the streamlet's source; and behind, a -heaven-piercing peak lifted its reddened profile to the light, while -blue dim greyness veiled its storm-scarred bosom. A mile distant, on -the right, the village of Narwhal, with its little tin steeple -twinkling like a star, was seated where the brook and river met, -weltering with its surrounding fields in a haze of gold and crimson, -with purpled woods behind, and all the glorious pomp of sinking day -above it and beyond--the saffron-coloured sky, the waiting flakes of -cloud, flashing in scarlet fire to let the sun-god pass, and then to -draw the curtain on his exit. - -The level crimson rays shot for a space along the glorified valley, -kindling the distant reaches of the river into flame, and impurpling -the long-drawn shadows with the hue of violets; and then the pageant -vanished like a dream. Cool, low-toned greys stole out along the -river; the rosy day-dream of the village paled into common wreaths of -thin blue smoke; the starry twinkle of the steeple-vane went out in a -moment, like an extinguished spark. The cirrhus clouds high up in the -zenith, or far off in the cool east, still showed a rosy tint; but -excepting these, the war of the giants--the ever-recurring tragedy of -light and darkness--had played itself to an end. Already the shadows -of the night were out among the hills, and stealing down in troops to -overspread the land. - -Maida stood and watched the spectacle. She was abundantly read in the -literature of the magazines. The Solar Myth had always impressed her, -and now the pomp of sunset recalled the story of Herakles, enthralled -in Nessus' shirt, leaping on the altar and vanishing in flame. "The -end of a hero!" she whispered to herself, there being no one else to -hear--though, if there had been, it would have made no difference. -Being a free-born American, she felt no false shame about giving -utterance to her thoughts, however high-stepping they might sound at -times. If her auditor did not appreciate, it only showed his dulness. - -She had removed her spectacles some time before, when the daylight -grew less glaring. Her hat was pushed back, and her hair rumpled out -of its usual primness. The pinched, worn, and disappointed set of her -features--the livery of hard-worked governesses--was lost for the -moment in the sweet light reflected from the rosy clouds, and the -natural intelligence always dwelling in her eyes was now warmed into -enthusiasm over the drama of the elements. She looked pleasing, and -even pretty, for the moment--her figure slight and girlish, rather -than skinny, as it had appeared at times under the trying contrasts of -the crowded hotel. In the elation of her feelings she stood erect with -head well up, and altogether different from the neglected schoolma'am -of other times. Wherever the divine gift of intelligence resides, -there are possibilities of beauty; and the mantle of the flesh at -times will fall into graceful lines, even though the bufferings of -circumstance may toss and twist it awry in the general. We are lamps -of clay through which the inner brightness shines more or less -clearly; and it is or the flame's being trimmed, or burning low, that -good looks worth the having mostly depend. - -There was a whistle up the track, and presently, with a tempestuous -rush which made the station tremble, a train swept up to the platform -and stopped. A big bell was jangled in front of the dining-room, -and nasal voices yelled--"Narwhal Junction! Twenty minutes for -ree-freshment!" The passengers alighted and hurried across the -platform, and Maida bade adieu to her musings and hastened to get her -luggage checked for her journey. - -A gentleman was coming from the distant end of the train. He too was -hastening, but in the opposite direction. Both were intent on their -own affairs, the platform was crowded, and ere they knew it, each was -in the other's arms. Both recoiled, and stood to recover breath and -apologise. Both looked. Both started in surprise. - -"Gilbert Roe!" It was the lady who was the first to speak. - -"Maida----?" responded the gentleman, and then he looked apologetic. -He might be taking a liberty, he thought, and looked about to see if -there was a husband to resent so familiar a use of his wife's name. -"Are you travelling alone?" he asked, after a minute's silence, during -which the lady's eyes had been so intently busy with him that she -forgot to speak. - -"You look older," she said at last. "Of course you must, after ten -years' absence; but you are only improved--broad-chested and -prosperous-looking;" and she wrung his hand in an intensity of -welcome. "Where are you travelling to? What a strange place to meet -in! Were you coming to----" but she did not finish her sentence. It -occurred to her that it was her friend's turn to say something now. - -"I am on my way to Clam Beach," he answered. "I shall put in a few -days there, and then try some of the other places along the coast. -Have been at several already. Not much account, any of them; but this -is the season for being away. Nothing astir in Chicago at this time of -year." - -"Clam Beach? I've come from there. You'll find it pleasant. The house -is full; but of course they can put up a single gentleman." - -"You are there? Come, that's nice! I declare I'm in luck at last. My -trip has been real lonesome, so far. I have been so long West that I -have lost sight of my old friends, and can't scare up one, now I want -'em." - -"You don't deserve to, if you serve them all as you did me. How many -years is it since you wrote last, do you think? It's eight." - -"Eight years? Ah, well, but that is different," he answered, with a -laugh. "Who is with you at Clam Beach?" - -"Who would be? The teachers at our college are mostly home with their -friends. I'm an orphan, as you know, and I don't make very free with -strangers; so I come to the shore, like other folks who have no -friends to visit;" and she heaved a little sigh, but not a painful -one. If life had been rather empty for her, that was forgotten now; -"over," I daresay she would have said just then, if her feelings had -fallen into words, for her eyes were on his face, her lips were -parted, and her countenance was alight, more brightly than when the -sunset clouds had lit it up a while ago. This was a rosier, warmer -light, shining from within. It transfigured her for the moment, -casting back the gathering years with their encrusting vapours, and -disclosed her again as the enthusiastic maiden from whom the young man -had parted ten years before, but purified and brightened by the -struggles, and the victories, and the wisdom painfully acquired--for -the moment, that is: there are no tabernacles or abiding-places on our -mounts of transfiguration, and their glories are evanescent. - -"You mean that you are still unmarried? Strange!" - -"Strange that a woman should keep her troth, Gilbert? There came no -word of your death. I only had patience--only waited, just as any -right woman would have done." - -"Hm----" It was not the answer which Gilbert had anticipated, if -indeed he anticipated any. It startled him, and made him look more -carefully in her face. Illuminated by the momentary exaltation of her -nerves, she really looked attractive then, and there was a glowing -warmth in her eyes resting on his own which thrilled him, and held him -in a spell not to be shaken off, though he tried. It turned back the -pages of his memory and opened a far-back chapter where ardent -passages were inscribed--a chapter broken off in the middle; and then -a leaf had been turned, and new chapters with new interests and new -ardours had written themselves in--the stirring interests and eager -ardours of an intenser life--and the old chapter had remained -unfinished, and even the part written had been forgot. - -Now, the old passage was again before him, and he felt a drawing back -to the old-time idyl, and an impulse to carry it on and complete it. -Yet there was a thinness in this proffered draught of love, which did -not now as of old attract his sophisticated palate. It seemed like -whey to the shepherd's son who has sojourned in cities and revelled in -stronger drinks--wholesome, but not exhilarating. The bowl was at his -lips, but he hesitated to drink. His glance waxed unsteady beneath the -gaze of blissful trust which beamed on him. He coughed again to break -the confusing silence, and would have spoken, but he could think of -nothing to say. - -And then the damsel's look grew clouded, in sympathy with, or in -consequence of, his confusion; and with a little gasping sob and a -tighter clutch at his hand, which she still was holding, she spoke, -half whispering-- - -"And you? You--you are not married, Gilbert?" and her eyes rose -shrinkingly to his face, with an eager frightened look, as if she -dreaded to hear his answer. - -"N--no--that is--no--certainly not! What makes you suppose such -things? I have no thought----Tush! you put me out asking ridiculous -questions. I forget what I am saying;" and he laughed uneasily, -looking most unnecessarily confused over so simple an avowal. - -His confusion was unnoticed, however. Maida looked up in his face once -more, as trustingly as ever; or more so, for now there was the triumph -of proud possession. Her ten years' waiting was accomplished; her love -was come to claim her. The stony road she had been travelling so -wearily and alone, was behind her now. It grew radiant in retrospect -by the light of the joy she had now attained, even as the toils of -battle seem glorious in the lustre of the victory which they have -achieved. Her love was come to claim her! She stood up closer and -looked into his face, with upturned lips, awaiting the seal of their -reunion. - -It did not come. The omnibus was drawing up at the platform, and -Gilbert, calling a porter, turned away to point out his luggage. Maida -went in pursuit of her own, and to the surprise of the driver, had it -restored to the place on the roof whence it had been lifted an hour or -two before, and then followed Gilbert inside, to return to Clam Beach. - - - - - CHAPTER XV. - - IN AN OMNIBUS. - - -The daylight was stealing swiftly yet imperceptibly away. There was no -moon, and the occupants of the omnibus were speedily wrapped in gloom. -Besides the two we know of, there were others sitting in silence, and -in wait for anything to amuse them on the monotonous journey. The -vehicle rolled easily along the sandy road, without noise or jar to -drown the sound of conversation, and Maida dared not give voice to the -many things with which her happy heart was overflowing, before the -inquisitive strangers, while Gilbert was far from indisposed to hold -his tongue. - -To participate with enthusiasm in a _réchauffé_ of feeling, after ten -years, and in other scenes and circumstances, demands an effort. If -the feeling has been one merely of friendship, such participation is -no doubt possible--nay, the long interval lends an atmosphere of -pensive charm to the revival, clothes it in roseate hues, and tempts -one, in looking down the vista of the years, to see the bond as closer -than it really was. But if the friendship was one "touched with -emotion," as it mostly is when the parties are a young man and a maid, -it is different. The aroma of such a tie is far too subtile and -evanescent to survive much keeping. Cherish the memories ever so -carefully, as Maida had done, it is only like the storing away of -roseleaves. The perfume waxes even stronger, but it is not the same; -it is musty and heavy, like spice or drugs--a mummy of the old sweet -breath of flowers. Cherish not, as was Gilbert's case, and what is -left? The roses have withered, the petals crumbled and blown away, and -what remains but the memory of a remembrance? - -Had this meeting come ten years later, when the effervescence of the -emotions, and the expectation of new sweetness still to be extracted -from the dregs of youth, had subsided, then doubtless it would have -been pleasant to recur to a tender friendship, and to trick it out in -such shreds of sentiment as could be picked from out the lumber of the -past. Self-love and self-pity would have delighted to dwell on such a -memento of departed youth, when the time for new attachments had -passed away. But at thirty a man is still young, except to his -juniors. There may yet be loves and friendships to come, more precious -than any which have gone before. He looks back upon his past as a mere -introduction to his full-fledged present--the raw and callow time of -his probation--and early kindnesses seem pale, watery, and insipid. - -Gilbert was pleased enough to meet an old friend; especially just -then, when he was bound for a pleasure resort, where, as always, those -who have friends are tempted to season their social enjoyments with as -much exclusiveness as they can afford, and enhance the satisfaction of -being within the ring, by keeping as many as possible outside. But -this new-found friend claimed so much for their intimacy in the -past--so much which was special and particular, and for which he -really doubted in himself if there had been warrant. It was an affair -of ten years ago. Since then he had led a busy life, overflowing with -all the excitements; and he wondered now if there could have been -ground for the meaning she appeared to attribute to it. There might -have been once, or there nearly might have been--and if the intimacy -had lasted longer, perhaps there _would_ have been; but they had now -been ten years apart, and who could resurrect a sentiment buried under -ten years of oblivion? There had been time for many another tenderness -since then. And were not attachments like the herbage of the fields, -of which each season produces its own luxuriant crop? Besides, -since then a plant more vigorous than any had sprung up, one with -deeper-reaching root and wider branches, which had usurped the space -and choked all weaker growths. It was a plant whose fruit had been -tart as well as sweet; but the complex flavour of it had made his -palate critical, and anything more luscious would be mawkish now. -Again, had she not been a little abrupt? Was it nice in her to speak -so openly--to step so unhesitatingly across the chasm of a ten years' -separation, into a past as to which he really had forgotten the -particulars? He doubted if that past had been as she would represent -it; and even if it had, was it maidenly in her to be the first to -speak of it? - -Still, he was going amongst strangers. This old friend would be a -resource, and would help to break the ice for him; and no doubt, with -judgment, he would be able to lead her into seeing things as they -were, instead of as she wished them to be. And after all, it was a -kindly trait in her to have remembered him so long, poor girl! He -hoped it had not interfered with her prospects, much, or made her -measure others who were candidates for her favour by too high a -standard. Yet it was well, perhaps, to have a high standard, "a noble -ideal." That was the way it was expressed by the winter-evening -lecturers, and the magazine writers; who, as far as he recollected, -always spoke of it as "precious." And he spread himself a little wider -in his dark corner of the omnibus, expanded his chest, and felt -pleased with himself in the new character of "element in a woman's -higher culture." Ah! what a fellow he was, to be sure! If the girls -did see his perfections, poor things, it was not his fault. It showed -only that they had eyes to see, and he could not wish them blind. It -was impossible, of course, that he could be in love with them all; but -it was consoling to think that, in being a "noble ideal," he was -conferring a moral benefit on those whose attachment he could not -return. And through his mind there ran the familiar lines-- - - - "'Tis better to have loved and lost, - Than never to have loved at all." - - -And he sighed contentedly, feeling very kindly towards poor Maida -Springer. - -Maida sat in the opposite corner of the omnibus, tumultuously happy. -She felt garrulous at first in her elation, but the presence of -fellow-passengers--staid country folks, who did not speak, but looked -inquisitively at her and her friend, as strangers in those parts, and -then communicated with each other in interjectional observations about -the crops--compelled her to silence; and she had so much to fill her -thoughts, that soon she fell into a delightful reverie, and had no -wish to converse. - -As the daylight grew more dim, she lost sight of her recovered -Gilbert; but there he sat before her, all the same--his outline clear -against the quiet sky seen through the open window, broad-shouldered, -tall and strong, a very rock of manhood; and every thread and tendril -of her heart seemed to go out and twine itself around him, as she sat -nestled in spirit within his shadow, in a passion of trusting -adoration. - -How fine of him to have kept true through all the years!--through -vicissitudes and seductions such as she could not imagine or -particularise, but which yet must have been most trying. And now they -were re-united. And yet, how diffident and even shy he had seemed, at -meeting her! and with so little to say. Depth of feeling!--to which -language was too poor to give expression. It was beautiful. And what a -joy for her, by-and-by, to lend his dumb soul language!--and to -encourage his faltering emotions to body themselves in words. - -"Douglas! Douglas! tender and true!" were the words which kept hymning -themselves through her brain in a continuous rapture. Ah, what a hero! -and how goodly was his shadow! It seemed but yesterday that they had -parted. Ten years of dreariness, the worries and petty scufflings, -small aims and smaller disappointments, which had seemed so long and -dull and wearing in their passage, were all forgot and put away, like -the flatness of a rainy afternoon, when it is over. She was in her -teens again, strolling in the fields with Gilbert on Sunday -afternoons, or reading with him on winter nights in the parlour of his -uncle's homestead, when the children, her charges, were gone to bed. - -The air from the fields blew in through the open windows, as the -omnibus lumbered on, dewy and cool, and sweet with the scent of -second-growth clover; and she thought of the humming of bees, and the -sunshine and the peace of the long vacation, when Gilbert was home -from college, and their talks about the world, and books, and college -lore, which had been so inspiring, and had filled her with ambitions, -and tempted her to break from rustic life, and work and struggle, till -now she was a professor in the Female College of Montpelier. What poor -dry husks it had all appeared to her but that very morning! And now it -was past, clean vanished out of her life; and she felt like a moth -when it casts the chrysalis and spreads its wings to sport upon the -scented air. The wonder of it all! and the beauty! Now that they were -past, she would not have had the times of dark probation shortened by -a day. - -The omnibus jogged tranquilly on its way in the sweet summer night, -diverging here and there to drop a passenger at his own gate, and then -resuming its course, no one remonstrating at delay or seeking to -quicken the pace. The casuals were all and severally deposited at -last. A little longer, and the journey was completed; the dark bulk of -the hotel, with its countless lights in ranges long-drawn-out and -twinkling tier on tier, a garish illumination intruding on the -stillness and mystery of night, loomed up before them, and the -travellers drew rein before the entrance at Clam Beach. - -It was almost with regret that the two found themselves at their -journey's end, so pleasant had it been; and yet they had not exchanged -a word. Their musings, different as they were, had been alike -pleasurably engrossing, and alike productive in each of kindness for -the other. No two people could have been mutually better disposed than -were Gilbert and Maida as he handed her out, and waving the porter -aside, insisted on carrying in her rugs with his own hands. - -"Maidy Springer! you back!" was ejaculated, as Maida reached the -hall-way landing; and out of the darkness of the outside gallery -swooped Mrs Denwiddie in a whirlwind of flapping drapery, enveloping -Maida in a cloud of kisses and black grenadine. - -"So glad to have you back again, my dear. It's been real lonesome this -afternoon without you. But what has brought you? I thought you were -gone to be made a doctoress of philosophy,--and here you are again; -and not alone either! Is that the philosophy we study? No better than -the rest, for all your learning. It's woman's subjick you incline to -after all--a young man--when you can get him. Sly-boots! And me never -to suspect it. It's not an hour since I was argying with that stuck-up -old Mrs Wilkie, and insistin' that you was all intelleck; and here you -are, back with a gentleman to disprove my words." - -Maida felt doubtful how she should reply, and but for the joy which -filled her she would have resented the other's inquisitive freedom. It -seemed to her at that moment, however, that nothing could ever vex her -more, and a reproachful look was all she could call up, by way of -self-assertion. - -"Well, yes, my dear," the widow answered to the look, "I'll own to it. -I _am_ making free. But it comes of the interest I feel in you; though -many's the spat you and me has had together. But who's the gentleman? -A mighty fine man. Is it HIM? the one you kind of let on about, that -was away making a fortune to marry you on? Sakes alive, now! Ain't -that pretty! If this ain't true love, there's no sich thing. And so -little as you said! And so despondent-like you used to seem! I reely -thought the whole a flam, and you just makin' believe a bit, because -the gentlemen here didn't much mind you. And now, perhaps, you'll be -married the first, for all the airs some tries to put on." And again -she pumped Maida's hands up and down by way of congratulation. - -"And now, my dear," the widow resumed, "you must make me acquainted -with the gentleman himself. I'm fairly dyin' to know him. So true and -so constant! I wonder if there's more like him where he comes from. I -never saw the man myself would be so faithful. But maybe it's -yourself, Maidy Springer, has some knack of bindin' them to you; -though that's a notion never struck me before." - -Maida smiled and held up her chin, while her eyes modestly sought the -ground. She mentioned that she and her friend were going to supper, -and if Mrs Denwiddie cared to accompany her to the dining-room, she -would introduce Mr Roe. That gentleman reappearing at the moment, the -three went in together, and Mrs Denwiddie's sentimental tendencies had -a treat in watching over the reunion and refreshment of two faithful -lovers. Her eyes dwelt on the face of the gentleman with smiles of -motherly solicitude, and she ministered to his wants whenever the -waiter turned his back, passing him the sugar-basin, handing him jam -and pickles, and pointing out the nicest kinds of cake, in a way as -troublesome as it was well intended. - -Maida was in glory--too happy to eat or drink. Her credit among women -was vindicated at last. Evidence of her prowess was there present; the -victim, a man of six feet stature, acknowledging her silken fetters. -No one would ever say "old maid" to her again, or think it. She was -transferred from the forlorn to the triumphant division of her sex, -and it was altogether "just too delightful." Her merit, even in her -own eyes, took new proportions. How true she must have been, and -constant! And she began to perceive what a very superior nature was -hers, to have cherished this beloved image for ten long years. And -yet, in her modesty, she had been as little aware of the tenacity of -her affection as of the enduring influence of her conquering charms. -To think that she could have loved and waited so long! As if, poor -soul, there had since appeared in her life any man on whom to bestow -the treasure of her love. She had not hoped, far less expected, this -felicity. The memory of ten years back had been but the remembered -gleam of sunshine in a clouded existence, to be recurred to when other -women flaunted their successes before her eyes--a testimony that she, -too, had had her sip of love. Her soul overflowed with gratitude to -this champion who had vindicated her equality with other women to -herself and them, with humble trustful devotion. - -The sensations were all so new as yet. By-and-by, doubtless, when -ideas had had time to ferment, it would be different. Victorious -beauty would as usual demand its dues, trifle with the captive's -chains, and play at being imperious and exacting. For the present the -game was all too new; she was too happy for common food, and pastured -her eyes on the goodly proportions of her hero--his noble brow, his -moustache, his nose, and all his manifold perfections. Timidly she -pushed the buttered toast within his reach, and the anchovy paste, and -watched the carefully divided mouthfuls of his meal as they were made -away with. - -Maida's heart was too full for speech, Gilbert's jaws were employed in -mastication; wherefore they sat in silence, and Mrs Denwiddie, facing -them with attentive eyes, was forced to feed her curiosity with -sympathetic fancies. - -"How much the poor dears must be thinking, when they speak so little! -and how devoted Maida is, to be sure, pressing toast and anchovy upon -her companion, and never touching a morsel herself! And what a very -fine man the gentleman is, to be sure! And as for Maida herself, she -really is not at all amiss--quite spry, in fact, and with a good -colour, if she do be a little thin. But that will mend soon. There's -nothing like a good heart to put flesh on the bones." - - - - - CHAPTER XVI. - - LIPPENSTOCK BAY. - - -The next morning early, ere yet the last night's arrivals were astir, -there was bustle in the hotel. Omnibuses, carriages, buggies, and a -few saddle-horses, waited before the door, and soon a loquacious -company of pleasure-seekers, comprising three-fourths of all the -guests, came down and were borne away. - -Joseph Naylor had the buggy which led, Rose Hillyard by his side, as -nearly always happened now--though he had many competitors who strove -hard to supplant him. His luck or good management was remarkable; for -somehow, though the lady was conspicuously gracious and encouraging to -the rest, it was nearly always to him that it fell to escort her. Lucy -Naylor and Lettice Deane were provided each with a horse and a -cavalier; Margaret, in her riding-habit, was following; Peter Wilkie -sprang forward to hold her stirrup, but it felt so warm that she -changed her mind and followed her mother into a carriage, which -changeableness the latter was far from approving; but Mrs Petty was -beside her, and young Walter on the box, so nothing could be said, and -if Peter's mother muttered "whimsical monkey," and looked cross, -nobody minded. In ten minutes every one had mounted or scrambled into -a place, and the company started away. - -The air was still. The sea stretched like a mirror beneath the limpid -sky, repeating in livelier tones its cerulean blueness and the pearly -brightness of the clouds, save near the shore, where the reflections -grew troubled in the swinging of the glassy swell which broke and -crumbled in a fringe of glittering surf. There was no breeze, but the -sun was low as yet, and the coolness of night still lingered in the -air with a pleasant saltness and the scent of fresh sea-wrack cast up -along the shore. It was a charming drive, that summer morning, along -the even firmness of the beach, so smooth, and free from noise, jolt, -or rattle. The fall of the horses' feet was scarcely audible, and the -air was astir with the plashing of the breakers in faint monotonous -resonance, a low and unobtrusive accompaniment to the blithesome -voices of the merry-makers as they wended along. - -The motion was smooth, but the progress was not rapid. The sand was -heavy beneath the wheels and the horses' feet, and offered a dead -impediment to speed. But speed was not a thing to be greatly desired. -The morning, with its brightness, its freshness, and its waxing -warmth, was something to be lingered in, and breathed with long deep -inspirations of enjoyment; and no one thought of haste or complained -of delay, though it took an hour to do the five miles' distance which -brought them to Lippenstock Bay and the wooden jetty, where a -steamboat was waiting to take them on board. Out upon the water was a -new and fresh sensation, and one which arrived just as the other was -losing its charm. The sands, when they left them, were not as cool as -they had been an hour before--the genial warmth was beginning to verge -on heat; and the party crowded on board with enthusiasm, in haste to -secure commodious corners and lounge at ease, inhaling new freshness -as the boat put off from the shore with a screech like the cry of a -sea-gull, and breasted the glassy waters on its voyage round the bay. - -Lippenstock Bay is an inlet of eight miles' width, running deep into -the land, and guarded at its mouth by a double row of islands, which -shelter it from the outer ocean, breaking the lines of westward-driven -billows, and rendering it a sheltered roadstead in all weathers. It -cuts into the gently swelling country which comes down upon the sea, -with its sandy pasture-tracks, and scattered farmhouses nestling in -sheltered spots among meadows and shady trees, so snug and thrifty, -but, alas for the landscape! so aglare with whitewash. If ever the -spirit of the picturesque shall invade those shores, her first -exploit, I fear, will be to scatter something of neglect, if not -decay, upon the scene. In that transparent atmosphere, with its sharp -uncompromising lights and shadows, the human element of the present is -aggressively manifest. Each dwelling, in its flagrant paint or -whiteness, obtrudes itself upon the eye, and insists on being counted -in, one more residence of a citizen of the Great Republic. The fields -and roads, the fences and blocks of bush, are scrupulously -rectangular, without one softening curve: illustrated in the varying -greens and yellows of the different crops, the country looks as if it -were covered with a vast patch bed-quilt. - -The hills of the rougher country, backed by the blue outline of -distant mountains, come into view at the upper end of the bay, basking -sweetly in the light, and clothed in pearly greys where their verdure -falls in shadow. They relieve the scene from the sense of vulgar -commonplace which the rawness of nearer objects might impose, and -above is the immeasurable vault filled with transparent air suffused -with brightness, including all, and reducing stretches of monotonous -country within symmetrical limits. The hills behind send down a spur -across the lower levels to the sea. This ends in a ridge which enters -the head of the bay, and on it stands the pretty old town of -Lippenstock. - -Lippenstock is one of the oldest settlements on the Atlantic coast; -and being old, it is rich in the mellowness of tone so sadly wanting -in other places. Having grown with the community, it harmonises like a -natural production with surrounding nature, free from the harsh -obtrusiveness of a brand-new construction, and might almost be a -cutting from the Old World ingrafted on the still scarce-ripened New. -Clustered on its tongue of land, it stretches out into the blue deep -water, a lesser bay margined with yellow sand confining and compacting -it on either hand; fringed on three sides with wharfs, whose tar-black -timbers lend a solid definition to the base from which it rises, in -blocks of russet brown, red brick, and grimy stone, with roofs and -steeples rising tier on tier in jagged outline backward and upward, -spreading as they recede, in every tone of blue and purple grey, among -the tops of the embowering elms which line the quiet streets. A ship -or two is moored along the quays; for the drowsy place has -considerable trade, and fishing-boats, with half-reefed umber sails -and their red-shirted crews, are sleeping on the water. - -The throbbing of the steamer's engine sounded far and wide across the -tranquil calm, the gurgling waters parting at its bow and speeding -backward in a trail of troubled undulations. The air seemed quickened -into life by the motion, and fanned the voyagers gently as they -reclined upon the deck, steeping themselves in sunshine, which, now -they were on the water, seemed less ardent than it had been ashore. - -Mrs Naylor, being an invalid, had had her choice of places. Reclining -near the bow, where the air was untainted by engine-room vapours, she -sat in the shadow of her white umbrella in perfect comfort, Margaret -beside her, with her book and fan and other paraphernalia at hand when -wanted. - -At Margaret's elbow, leaning against the bulwarks, stood Walter Petty -in watchful patience, waiting for something to say when opportunity -should arise, though his mind felt too blank to originate an -observation, while he watched and admired in a worshipful silence -which ought to have gratified her if she had understood it; but she -did not. She liked him as a young fellow always kind and nice, but he -bored her, rather, with his superfluity of still life and lack of -initiative; or, to put it plainly, she found him much too diffident -and young. - -He was three years older than herself, it is true, and was looked on -as a wonder of readiness and knowledge by his compeers among the -budding lawyers of Toronto; but then he was in love, poor lad, in his -first and earliest passion, which is like the measles, and deals more -hardly with a man, when, having passed him by before, it falls on him -out of season. He had studied hard, and his ambition had been so -entirely in his profession that he had had no thought to waste upon -young ladies; and often had he scoffed and pitied, to see the -ridiculous figure his fellows cut in the ecstasies of their calf-love. -He had listened to their idiotic raptures of hope and despair, and -wondered how rational creatures could become such fools. Now, the fate -had fallen on himself. It is decreed that man shall once in his life -make an ass of himself in dealing with the other sex, however wise and -prudent he may be in commerce with his own; and the man who never does -so stumble must be a wiseacre, or worse, an imperfect organism, from -whose construction the heart or the ideal impulses have been omitted. - -Walter's hot fits and cold were like an ague, and left him as limp and -powerless as an ague would. The briskest and most talkative of his set -at other times, he found his mind under this new influence dried up -and sterile, without an idea fit to put in words, now when he was most -anxious to be amusing and to shine. His being seemed turned into a -pool of receptivity, absorbing the worshipped image, but unable to -give back a reflection. He was happy where he stood, within range of -so much sweet influence, but he was scarcely agreeable; he had nothing -to say, and he still retained sufficient common-sense to feel a little -foolish. - -Peter Wilkie, sitting beside him on a coil of rope, was under no such -disadvantage. His feelings were in no wise overpowering, only -sufficient to make him wish to be at his best. He had had both measles -and calf-love in their appointed season, and in such easy form as his -constitution allowed. He had been in love many times, according to his -capacity--an easy-going and pleasant acceleration of the pulses, -mental and bodily, without fever or foolishness of any kind. The thing -ran its course, and went off again as judgment advised, leaving him -none the worse, and ready to begin the pretty game again on proper -occasion. - -Mr Peter considered Margaret a remarkably fine girl--handsome, clever, -and with money--who would do him credit as a wife, if he should make -up his mind to take her. He had very nearly done so. He would have -done so, but that there was another, a competing beauty, as eligible, -seemingly, in all respects, and still more attractive. Miss Hillyard -was quite as handsome; and if Clam Beach knew less about her fortune, -that was the natural consequence of her being from Chicago. Her dress -and appointments betokened wealth; and he had gathered from the -American boarders that the Deanes, with whom she travelled, were -people of note, and very rich. Her complete self-possession showed -both that she had lived in the world, and had held a good place in it; -and, for herself, she was perhaps handsomer than the other. Their -styles were so different that they could not be compared; but if -anything, he preferred Miss Hillyard's. Being sandy-haired and -pale-eyed himself, the brilliant brunette, with her rich colour, -bright eyes, and abundant hair, had the attraction which lies in -opposites; and then her conversation and manner were so much more -formed and matured than were Margaret's. She was a woman, in fact, -while the other was a girl, and, he fancied, would suit him better as -a companion. - -Miss Hillyard, however, was at the other end of the boat with Mr -Naylor, as she so often was now--"Why did she waste so much of her -company on that old cod?" he wondered--in the centre of a knot of -young people, whose frequent laughter showed that the conversation was -general. - -Margaret was before him, and glancing up at her where she sat, he -doubted if anything could be prettier than the picture she made, under -the shadow of her broad-leafed hat, bound with a copious scarf. She -had little colour; but the healthy pallor harmonised with the blueness -of her violet eyes, and the brown hair escaping into sunshine behind -her ear, and flashing like ruddy gold. The colour of her eyes repeated -itself in the handkerchief knotted at her throat; and her Holland -riding-habit, fitting without a crease, displayed to perfection the -lithe young figure, with arms so free and supple. "C[oe]lebs in search -of a wife" began to doubt if this damsel were not the better choice. -He coughed to clear his voice, and proceeded to make conversation in -his best manner. - -He talked about the scenery. The bay reminded him of the Bay of -Salerno, and every other bay, seemingly, which he had ever seen in -distant places--especially in the Mediterranean--which sounded -picturesque and romantic to Margaret, who had never been out of Canada -till now, and tended to impress her with his merit as an accomplished -traveller and man of the world. He had maundered eastward as far as -the Gulf of Corinth, and even alluded casually to the Golden Horn, -with the intention of taking it next, waxing eloquent over the glories -of Constantinople, and favouring her with recollections and anecdotes -of Eastern life, when Petty, standing by disgusted at his exclusion -from a conversation in which he could not gain standing-room, cried -out-- - -"See! they are actually launching a big sail-boat up the cove yonder. -What can people want with a sail-boat in a calm like this?" - -Margaret started and turned round, regardless of the coast of Greece, -Dardanelles, and Bosphorus, about which she had been expecting to -hear. - -"Where are they launching a boat, Mr Petty? Pray show me;" and there -came a flush to her cheek, and she looked at him so brightly with a -grateful smile, that the young fellow's heart beat faster than before, -and he was very happy. - -"Do you think they will make out to sail to-day? I wish there would -spring up a little wind. Do you not think they will manage to get -along, Mr Petty, with skilful steering?" - -"I fear, if they do not get under way, they will have little -opportunity to steer. When a boat is lying at rest in the water, it -does not make any difference how you turn the helm. But see! they are -taking out the oars. They will kill themselves in this hot weather. -Two men to go rowing a heavy boat like that!" - -"Ah, poor fellows! And how they tug and strain to get the great -unwieldy thing in motion! They will kill themselves, toiling in the -heat--get sunstroke perhaps. How I wish----" but here she stopped -short. Perhaps she knew in her heart that she did not wish the thing -she had been going to say, or perhaps she thought best to keep her own -counsel. She clutched her hands, and wrung them a little, but not -enough to be remarkable, and watched the boat. - -"What makes her take such interest in the boat?" said Peter within -himself. "It sounded as if she wished they had not gone out. But who -are they, that she should wish about them? Or perhaps she was wishing -that she had not made them go. Ha! that must be it. How eagerly she -turned to look when Petty spoke! And who could recognise any one at -this distance? Aha! I smell a rat--a lover--a rival. Have a care, -Master Peter, or you will miss your footing. Propose and be refused, -and look like a fool! Take time, and make sure before you leap." - -Walter Petty had heard Margaret's exclamation likewise, but it -affected him differently. Either he was too much interested in the -young lady, or he was too little interested and hopeful for himself. -He had always thought of himself as but a poor creature by the side of -Margaret. All that he perceived was, that Margaret took an interest in -the boat which he had pointed out, and seemed uneasy about its men -working so hard. Why she should be uneasy he did not stop to inquire. -It might be the holy pity of her nature, which sympathised with the -toils and sufferings of all mankind in a way beyond his ken. It might -be anything. He only saw that she was troubled and anxious about that -boat and its occupants, and he hastened to mitigate her anxiety. - -"It will not be so very hard when they get the boat under way," he -said. "Already it goes easier; and see how well they row! They are -experienced hands. No; never fear. They will not hurt themselves. And -see, out there upon the bay, those moving clouded places! 'Cats'-paws' -the sailors call them. They are caused by a puff of air striking the -water. When the boatmen get out there, their sail will help them, and -I should not wonder but a breeze is springing up, which causes those -cats'-paws. Never fear; the boat will do well enough." - -He had his reward in the grateful smile with which Margaret regarded -him, in looking past his ear at the evolutions of the boat in -question, and which made him feel more adult than he had felt in her -presence since his lunacy began. The climax of his satisfaction came -when she began to speak-- - -"How much you know about sailing and the sea, Mr Petty! and how -interesting it is, to be sure! Yes, really; I must watch that boat to -see it work into the breezy water. But of course; there is breeze even -here. See how my handkerchief flutters when I hold it out;" and it -seemed to Peter Wilkie, looking on, that one of the boatmen thereupon -drew out a handkerchief and wiped his forehead. - -"Hm," he muttered below his breath. "Look out, Peter Wilkie!" - -Walter Petty explained to Margaret that the breeze which stirred her -handkerchief arose not from the motion of the air, but from their own -motion through it. - -"You seem to know everything, Mr Petty, about boats and sailing; -and I am so ignorant. Tell me all you know. It seems so mysterious -that--that pressing the tiller, for instance, to one side should make -the boat go to the other;" and Margaret turned round full front to -Petty--it _may_ have been past his ear that she was looking--with her -profile towards Wilkie, whose countenance fell a little as he asked -himself-- - -"Does she guess that I have been smelling out her little game?" - -The "smelling out" had seemed droll to him the moment before; but now, -when this slight sign of displeasure--if it were a sign--might be -taken as confirmation, it was not so amusing. And yet the girl seemed -a finer girl than ever, now that he suspected a rival, and perhaps a -favoured rival, in her regard. He was not going to be allowed to play -sultan, it appeared, throwing his handkerchief as he pleased, without -fear of refusal; wherefore he ceased to question the value of the -prize, and began really to think that he desired it. - -What would Mrs Naylor, sitting complacently within touch of her -daughter, and accepting the conversation of her friends, have said, -had she known the suspicion which had crossed the mind of Peter? -Margaret was safe at her elbow, and receiving the attentions of the -two most eligible young men on board. She would not have believed that -her girl, open as the day, truehearted and candid to a fault, could be -signalling to a man--a man unrecognisable for the distance--out there -in an open boat on Lippenstock Bay. A proceeding on her part so bold -and so underhand was impossible. And yet, if it were true, whose fault -was it but her own? Oppression, it has been said, will drive a wise -man mad. And this was only a girl, pushed, by nagging and injudicious -curbing, after a course of equally imprudent liberty, to take her own -way. She had but herself to thank, whatever might happen. - -Mothers can remember their children as babies; they have tended and -ruled them through the years of growth with undisputed sway, and -maturity arrives so imperceptibly that it is natural they should not -perceive when the term of their reign has come--that the sceptre has -withered like a reed, and the children have grown to be women, with -wills and rights and aspirations of their own. - - - - - CHAPTER XVII. - - FESSENDEN'S ISLAND. - - -The steamer throbbed and snorted on its voyage round the bay, like -some big amphibian of palæozoic times, parting the glassy waters right -and left, and leaving a long regurgitating trail of swelling waves and -eddies in its wake. The sun, now overhead, shed down his beams with an -unmitigated ardour, and the water cast back the glare with blistering -intensity. There really had arisen a languid air-current from the -shore, as Walter Petty had predicted; but the boat was now heading -down the bay towards the open sea, and travelling with the breeze, so -that on board it seemed to have fallen calm, and was hot and stifling -to a degree. - -The chat among the voyagers flickered low, and then went out, like the -flame of candles in an unwholesome well. Every one sought for shade, -and gasped beneath an umbrella, or in some darkened corner of the -saloon, collapsed and listless. But the steamer snorted on its way, -regardless of their comfort, and gleeful, as it seemed, in the -increasing heat; for now she belched forth smoke, and weltered in it, -letting it curl and twist about her fore and aft, borne on the chasing -breeze--as though the sportive monster were shaking out her mane, as -is said to be the wont of the sea-serpent when he rises from the deep -to fright lone mariners. She had grown fiendish in her mood, that -misguided steamer, filling the air with foulness, and showering smuts -on the white umbrellas, the fresh toilets, and even the dainty nose of -beauty. It grew intolerable, and the passengers might have risen in -mutiny and altered the vessel's course, but that the heat had left -them limp and lacking energy. They only groaned and imprecated; while -the steersman stood like a wooden image by the wheel, one turn of -which would have blown away the mischief, looking at their misery with -unwinking eyes, and laughing mayhap down deep within his wooden ribs. - -The mouth of the bay was reached in time, and the islands with their -straits and narrows, and winding channels running in between; and -beyond, the blue Atlantic. A new life breathed on them the moment they -passed the cape which terminates the bay. Like pent-up invalids -escaping from a sickroom, they held up their faces to the sky to drink -great breaths of freshness. Out there it is always cool, however the -sun may beat. They threaded the channels among the islands, and then -sailed out into the far-extending blue, and were refreshed. - -Noon was long passed, although they had breakfasted early, before it -occurred to any one to feel hungry; but at length the idea of luncheon -presented itself to many minds about the same time, as something which -would be agreeable. The steamer was put about, and they returned back -among the islands. One of them, Fessenden's Island by name, lay most -open to the ocean, and farther out than the others. On this they -landed. It seemed intended by nature for their purpose, having a -little cove with shelving bottom which admitted their vessel, and a -seaward boundary of rocky ledges sinking perpendicularly in deep water -on the inward side, so that they could moor themselves to the shore as -comfortably as at a wharf, without the inconvenient intervention of -the boats. - -The hotel servants quickly got their hampers landed, and soon the -repast was spread in the slowly broadening shadow of neighbouring -rocks, while the party encamped beneath their umbrellas on the scrubby -sea-grass, or fetched themselves seats from the ship hard by. The -clatter of knives and plates, the popping of corks, and the din of -voices, startled the sea-fowl where they perched overhead; they -screeched and fluttered angrily at the unwonted disturbance, and -taking to the wing, they wheeled and circled in the air above, -surveying the intruders, and eyeing the meats which fear alone -prevented their pouncing down on and bearing away, and finally, with a -parting scream, flew seaward in a long white trail and disappeared. - -The tide had turned. Two hours were allowed to spend on shore. After -that, the steamer was to blow its whistle, and they must re-embark and -get away, or the ship would be left stranded by the ebb, to await the -following tide. The party having refreshed, broke up, and wandered -apart as chance directed, to explore the island. Mrs Naylor found -herself comfortable in her chair. Uneven walking over rocks presented -no attractions. Digestion and fresh air, combined with snatches of -light reading and chit-chat, seemed a more rational enjoyment. "But, -Margaret, my dear, I will not interfere with your more energetic -tastes," she said; "you can go, if you like, and scramble on the rocks -like the rest. I shall do nicely with these ladies. Mr Wilkie, I am -sure, will kindly see that you do not fall over a precipice." - -Mr Wilkie rose alertly, and Margaret followed. She had meant to go -away more quietly, later on, under the care of Walter Petty, whom she -noticed lingering within call. He was so devotedly kind and -respectful, that the girl could not but have a kindness for him. He -would have liked to go, she saw, and he would have answered better for -the purpose she had in view; though it was not, as he might fondly -hope, to purr soft nothings in sequestered nooks. However, fate and -her mother had imposed the more self-satisfied and confident gallant, -and she must submit; though she felt a qualm of self-reproach in -meeting the other's glance, in which disappointment seemed blended -with a shade of remonstrance. Had she not shown a preference for -him in the boat over that long-tongued rival, whom he cordially -detested?--turned away from his longwinded rigmarole about travel, to -ask sensible information from himself? There was no understanding -those girls, and no use trusting them. And yet this one was -so--so--what was she not, in fact? But it was desolating, all the -same. He could not bring himself to join any one else, though there -were "fellows" as well as girls who would have been glad of his -company. There was his pipe, however, that silent friend, so soothing -and so unobtrusive in its consolations. He would have recourse to -that; and scrambling out to the extremity of the ledge beyond the -steamboat, he sat him down beside the sad sea wave and blew a -melancholy cloud. - -Margaret and Wilkie scrambled along the shore, made difficult with -rocks and heaped-up boulders. They clambered briskly enough until they -had doubled a promontory which secluded them from observation, and -then Mr Peter heaved a sigh of mingled relief and exhaustion. - -"What an abominable way we have come, Miss Naylor! I am fairly blown. -Here is a smooth rock at last; let us sit and enjoy the view." - -"I am not tired at all, Mr Wilkie. Let us get on." - -"I do not think we can, Miss Margaret. The shore grows steeper. We -should have to take to those rocks lower down, all wet and slimy. It -is scarcely safe. Look at the view from here! Look at the expanse of -sea! It might be the Mediterranean, so blue and sunny. And those banks -of cloud along the horizon--are they not fine?" - -"Very fine, Mr Wilkie, but I want to see the island." - -"My dear young lady, islands are all the same, and one part of one of -them is just like another part. We need not flounder farther than -we have come already, to know this one by heart. It is ditto all -over--rocks sticking out of the water to support a little earth and a -few sea-birds." - -"But I have never been upon an island before, except those wooded ones -on the St Lawrence, which do not at all answer to your description. -They are nests floating on the water, and simply lovely. I want to see -more of this one. Our St Lawrence islands are covered with trees. Are -there none here?" - -"Too exposed here, you may be sure. A gooseberry-bush would be blown -down in the winter gales, not to speak of a tree. Besides, we really -cannot go farther along this detestable shore. The sharp stones will -cut the boot-soles off your feet." - -"Then let us go inland. Why should we keep to the shore? The ground -slopes up easily enough; let us go to the top and gain a bird's-eye -view of the island. No, really, I could not think of sitting down. We -shall have more than enough of that in the steamboat before we get -home." - -And so the young man, finding he could not persuade, had perforce to -let himself be persuaded, and follow when he would have led--or -rather, sat down. - -The slope was not very steep, though it was longer than Peter would -have expected a walk on so small an island could be; but at length -they reached the rounded flatness of the summit, and looked around. -The island spread out beneath on every side, and the sister islands -were marshalled north and south like sentinels to guard the inner -waters. Lippenstock Bay lay within them, a burnished glass throwing -back the sunshine; and the country beyond looked higher, more varied -and important than when seen from the water-level. An unmistakable -breeze had now sprung up, and was carrying straggling wreaths of cloud -before it, the vanguard of more solid masses which were creeping up -the sky from the distant west. Eastward the ocean now had lost its -sapphire blueness and grown dull and grey, while far out toward the -horizon it lowered beneath the oncome of the rising clouds, great -cumulus masses lifting themselves in heaven and advancing against the -breeze. They caught the rays of the opposing sun upon their breasts, -and flashed them back, and sprinkled them on the sea, turning its -lively blue to a white sickly grey. - -"What splendid clouds!" cried Margaret. "But there will be a storm. -When those clouds from the east meet the clouds in the west, we shall -have thunder." - -"I remember a sky the day I crossed the St Gothard, going down into -the plains of Italy. Very fine it was----" - -"Yes; I daresay it would be. The Old World must be a very superior -place to this poor continent of ours. Even the sun and moon must shine -better over there, by all accounts. The wonder is, how any of you -travelled folks ever cared to come here at all. But say! there is -quite a breeze coming down the bay; where can that sail-boat we were -watching have gone? I cannot make out a sail anywhere. Is it the -dazzle from the water that conceals it, do you think? Or can it be hid -behind one of the islands, I wonder?" - -"I see something white flapping behind that promontory down there, -where the channel narrows between this island and the next. There it -falls! They have taken it down. The men must be landing." - -"Where? Ah! let us run down and see." - -Peter would have liked to bite his tongue. Found guilty of that -offence unpardonable in trans-Atlantic eyes, of praising the Old World -at the expense of the New, he had thought to make his peace by -discovering for his companion the object for which her eyes were -searching the prospect; and he had done it with a vengeance. Not only -was the offence forgotten, but himself seemed likely to be forgotten -or overlooked as well. To think that he could be _gauche_ enough to -conduct his fair one into the arms of the very rival who had aroused -his suspicion that morning! He had forgotten since then; things had -gone so smoothly and pleasantly. What an awakening! "Duffer!" he -muttered below his breath, and felt humbled indeed. But he made one -poor struggle with destiny ere he yielded. He pulled out his watch, -and asked his companion with a start if she had any idea what was the -hour. - -"The tide is turning, you must remember," he added. "We shall hear the -whistle within fifteen minutes, and the steamer cannot wait. The -skipper says she will be grounded by the ebb if we are not off by -four. And a storm is coming on. I declare I hear distant thunder -already. How dim the light is getting, too! It will take all we can do -to be back in time. We have only twenty minutes." - -"Your watch must be fast," and Margaret pulled out her own. "Ten -minutes past three I make it, and I know mine is fast. See the groups -scattered all over the island! No one has thought of turning yet. -There is Judge Petty with his hammer pounding specimens out of yon -cliff. Yonder is my sister with somebody picking flowers for her. -Nobody thinks of gathering _me_ a bouquet, ever. There is a party down -there in the hollow, and I can distinguish Lettice Deane's voice quite -plainly; and far over are two people standing on the edge of a cliff -showing like silhouettes against the open sea. Uncle Joseph is one of -them. No one is thinking of turning back." - -"But, Miss Naylor, the storm will be on directly. Observe how dim it -grows. You will get drenched with rain." - -"I don't think it will rain till evening." - -"Indeed it will. See how the clouds are coming up! Hear to the -rumbling thunder!" - -"I am not afraid. But if you think otherwise, I should not like to -spoil your pleasure with the prospect of a wetting. Good-bye. You can -tell them to expect me shortly." And she skipped away. - -There was nothing for Peter but to follow, little as he could expect -his presence to be welcome when they should come on that rival at the -bottom of the hill. He hated the fellow, of course, and wished him -"far enough," but he could not help feeling curious to see him. Yet he -followed without alacrity. For the sake of argument, he had spoken of -the light as growing dim; now he felt it to be so indeed. The warmth -and brightness had gone out of the day for him, and it was become a -common thing. Not that he would have said so. The poet's trick of -drawing voices from inanimate nature to express or sympathise with -his momentary emotions was none of his. He was matter-of-fact and -common-sensical to a degree, if at the same time lucid-minded and -intelligent: but still he was human like the rest of us; and for that -matter so is the poet, "fed with the same food, hurt with the same -weapons, subject to the same diseases." If he were not, what would his -utterances be worth? His gift is utterance, but the thing he utters -must be within the possibility of all to feel. And Peter felt, though -the influence had stolen on him unawares. He had been in Margaret's -company through successive hours, and she was a flower too fresh and -sweet for any insect to have fluttered round so long without becoming -intoxicated somewhat with the fragrance. - -At the bottom of the hill, behind an intervening rock, they came -upon a sandy beach, the extremity of a bar which runs across to the -nearest island, connecting the two at low water, and forming the only -landing-place other than that of which the steamer had possession. The -boatmen were securing their craft as the two came in view. One of them -with a shout sprang forward and bounded up the steep to meet them. He -seized both Margaret's hands and shook them rapturously; then, -remembering that she had a companion, to be accepted as a necessary -evil, he turned round to Peter, raised his hat, and ceremoniously -wished him good-day. - -Peter returned the salute, and looked curiously in the other's face to -divine what manner of man this favoured one might be, if haply he -might yet be dealt with, outman[oe]uvred, or supplanted, and -recognised with astonishment that it was "that" young Blount who had -spent a few days at Clam Beach. His feelings expressed themselves in a -low, scarce audible whistle; and circumstances, looks, tones, details -from the week before, so trivial that he had not been conscious of -remembering them, sprang suddenly into knowledge and arranged -themselves; as when a thread is dropped into a chemical solution, -crystals gather from the fluid, and shape themselves with mathematical -precision round the nucleus. The circumstances strung themselves in an -induction amounting to demonstration, that Margaret Naylor had -bestowed her regards, and that he had come too late into the field. - -The young people were assiduously polite to Mr Peter. They did not -wish that unkind rumours of their meeting should circulate in the -hotel, and they would not request him to keep a secret for them--their -feelings would not permit them to do that--so both endeavoured to -conciliate his goodwill. They did what they could to include him in -their conversation; but he was inattentive, answering at random or not -at all. The sudden revelation had confused him like a blow, and his -thoughts kept wandering back to the details on which his induction was -based, trying them and endeavouring to shake their consistency, -wondering that he had not read the truth before, and pitying himself -in what now seemed his disappointment. - -His answers were made at random, but they did not observe it. They -were feeding their eyes upon each other's faces, after a three days' -separation, and they had no thought for anything but the delight of -being together. How good it was! They babbled, scarcely knowing what -they spoke of, and any observation which Peter chose to interject was -perfectly good as conversation in their eyes, sitting there together -on the shore, touching one another, looking shyly in each other's -eyes, hearing each other's voices, and being happy. Peter lounged -beside them on the ground, twisting his awkward limbs into uncouth -knots, and feeling dull and flattened out, defeated and humbled, -though nobody had done anything to him whatever. - -And time and tide went on their wonted course, but no one of the three -took notice of their passing. - - - - - CHAPTER XVIII. - - AN ADIEU. - - -The cloud-masses in the east had risen over half the sky. They now -presented only a rim of flashing white along the upper edge towards -the sun. The concave vault within was dim and lowering, and was -advancing visibly upon the darkened sea. Low sighing voices came -across the water, with the continuous flickering of far-off lightning -and the grumble of distant thunder. The sea was no longer asleep, as -it had been an hour ago beneath the placid light. A rolling glassy -swell, which momentarily grew heavier and higher, was coming in from -the ocean. The steamer at its mooring no longer lay firm and still -like part of the adjacent rocks. It rose and fell obedient to the -undulations, and strained upon its cables. The tide was ebbing. Not -many inches now interposed between the bottom and its keel; and as the -swell grew higher, there was danger that ere long she would bump upon -the rocks. - -The captain, watch in hand, grew restless and impatient. The -passengers' time ashore was hardly yet run out, but every minute -had grown precious, and he longed to be afloat. He tugged the -whistle-chain, and startled the still air with loud discordant yells, -then ran, gesticulating and shouting, to the poop, to warn those at -hand that they must hurry on board, as there was no time to lose. The -loungers rose and stretched themselves, unwilling to be disturbed; but -there was something imperious in the short shrill screeches of the -whistle, and they obeyed. The strollers heard and turned, and even ran -when they came in sight and saw the excited skipper swinging his arms, -and the men already preparing to cast loose from the shore. - -In a wonderfully short space the deck was alive with passengers and -the shore deserted. The skipper cast a searching look along the higher -grounds within sight. There was no sign of human presence remaining on -the island. The whistle uttered a last long melancholy scream of -parting, and was silent, the steamer lurched upon the swell, and they -were out in deep water. - -The passengers separated into groups and rested, like the sediment of -troubled water in a pool, watching the oncoming of the storm, as to -which there could now be no mistake. Already the first eddies of the -rising wind were coming from the east, and the sea was rising rapidly, -making landsmen feel sedate in anticipation of that worst evil of the -deep, the qualms of sickness. - -There was one, however, on whom the heavings had no effect. Her mind -was disturbed; bodily discomfort was forgot, or only added to her -anxiety. She got up from her seat and reeled across the deck to Mrs -Naylor, who sat buried in pathetic silence, awaiting whatever might be -in store. - -"Mrs Naylor, what ever has come of my Peter?" she said. "I cannot see -him anywhere. He always comes to look after his old mother. Where is -he now?" - -"I do not know, Mrs Wilkie. This motion is dreadful. Oh, how could I -be so foolish as venture out to sea on this horrid little boat!" - -"But you _must_ know, Mrs Naylor; I saw that girl of yours taking him -away, and I have not seen sight of him since. What has she done with -him? Oh, those girls! they will be the death of me." - -"He certainly took Margaret for a walk, but I have not seen them -since. No doubt they are in the cabin lying down. I wish I were there. -I wish I were anywhere rather than here. This see-saw motion is -dreadful." - -"What a woman! And she calls herself a mother! I wonder ye don't think -shame, ma'am, sitting there at your ease, and never minding what comes -of your own daughter. But she's foisted her on my poor Peter, and -that's all she cares for. And she's not minding what I say wan bit. -Oh, thae Canadian women!" - -Mrs Naylor was too poorly to rejoin. Engrossed in her own misery, she -probably did not hear. - -"Here you! Steward, waiter, whatever ye are," cried Mrs Wilkie, "go -down to the cabin. I would break my neck if I ventured through this -feckless crowd. See if ye can find Mr Wilkie--a big handsome -gentleman. Ye can't mistake him. Tell him his mother's up here, and -wants him." - -The messenger went, and returned, and was sent over all the ship, in -vain. The missing man was neither to be found nor heard of, and it was -discovered that Margaret Naylor was missing likewise. - -"Oh, captain, captain! put back--put back! You've left Mr Wilkie -behind." - -"Impossible, ma'am. We couldn't get in at the landing now. The weather -is growing worse, and we must make what speed we can back into the -bay. This is not a sea-going craft." - -"But you've left my boay on a desert island, and ye'll have murder or -marrich on your soul. Ye _must_ go back; or I'll have the law of ye as -soon as ever I get my fut on dry land." - -"We might never reach dry land at all, if we were to put back in the -weather that is coming on. The gentleman is quite safe. The fishermen -have a cabin, round the island at the other landing. He'll be all -right, and comfortable." - -"Why will ye not go to the other landing, and see? to ease a mother's -feelin's." - -"There's a sand-bar there. We could not get near the shore." - -"Ye might try. Ye could send your boat for them.... Yonder! I see a -black thing moving.... He'll be dead or married before morning. Oh, -captain!... Turn!... For pity's sake!" - -The captain turned and looked in the old woman's face, whose eyes, -already full, were on the point of brimming over. The alternative she -named seemed rather an anticlimax, and not so very harrowing. He would -have liked, himself, to be offered such a choice, but fate had never -so favoured him. - -"He'll do, ma'am. She ain't half bad, the craft he has in tow. She's -right and tight. I saw them steering off together." - -"He'll be done for, ye scoffin' reprobate! Ye think it fine fun, I -daresay; but it's no joke to a man in his poseetion. The girl's well -enough, for anything I know. In fack, I thought her not amiss. But -marryin's an expurriment ye can try but wance; and I want to make sure -before I give my leave.... Do you no see yon black thing movin', -captain? It's him! I'm sure of it. Turn!... like a lamb!" and she held -out her hands. - -The lamb smiled within his beard; but the blandishment was unavailing. -"There's nothing moving but the ship, ma'am; and she'll have to move -faster, or worse will happen;" and so saying, he escaped to the -engine-room to crack on more steam. - -Mrs Wilkie was in despair. She clasped her hands and staggered to the -taffrail, to gaze her last and fondest on the retreating island. She -clung to the flagstaff, with eyes streaming tears, and her short grey -curls draggling in the wind. She even waved her parasol in sad adieu; -but the wind, ere long, caught hold of that, and spread it out, and -twitched it from her grasp, and sent it spinning through the air away -to leeward. Anon she waved her handkerchief, when she could spare it -from its duty at her eyes, clinging to her flagstaff, swaying and -swinging, heaving and falling, with the motion of the vessel, till the -pitiless ocean asserted its cruel rights, and she sank a sea-sick -Niobe upon the deck. - - - - - CHAPTER XIX. - - STORM-STAYED. - - -His niece's eyesight was not at fault when she thought that she -recognised Joseph Naylor's figure silhouetted against the horizon. It -was he indeed, and he was not alone. That was the sweetest walk, he -told himself, which he had ever taken. It was the happiest day; and he -looked back in his tranquil bliss, standing with eyes which rested -dreamily upon the sea; and, forgetting to converse, he wondered if the -unreasoning transports he had known in youth were to be compared to -this. - -It seemed like the warm radiance of an unclouded afternoon succeeding -a day of rain which has been ushered in by deceitful sun-bursts, sent, -as it were, to deepen the succeeding gloom. The peace and trust, and -the contented sense of basking, without a wish left unfulfilled, were -inexpressibly sweet. The sense of doubleness, which had disturbed his -earlier intercourse with his companion, had disappeared. His spiritual -eyes had focussed themselves into agreement, and now the two images -were blended into one. It was the first and only tenderness of his -life, stifled though still smouldering beneath the years of widowhood, -on which this stranger had chanced to let in air; and the spark divine -had awoke among its ashes, and was again aflame. - -Words he had none just then. His being was strung too high for the -vibrations to be made audible in common utterance. He was only -receptive now, drinking in influence from her presence, but making no -response. They had been together all the day. In the morning they had -been gay at the cheerful starting. They had been conversational as the -day waxed warmer, companionable when it threatened to grow oppressive, -and they had felt like very old friends who understood each other -thoroughly, when they set out to walk. - -The extreme tranquillity at which they had now arrived was a little -more complete than Rose Hillyard altogether enjoyed. Fortunately she -was sympathetic by nature, and understood a great deal more than was -conveyed to her by words. She appreciated the silence--felt, indeed, -that it was the highest compliment, or rather something immeasurably -beyond compliment; but ere long she began to wish that it would not -last much longer. - -The mind of Rose was not altogether so utterly at ease as it appeared, -though she would not for the world that any one should have so -suspected. She would have done violence to herself, even, sooner than -acknowledge in her heart that she was not at peace; but still there -was a fever in her blood, making her restless, and eager to be doing, -and drown an inarticulate yearning for something she would not name. - -The silence drove her back upon herself, and gave voices opportunity -to make themselves audible within--voices she had endeavoured to -silence, and forbidden to be there. "If the man would only say -something! If he would even flirt!" That was a pretty game which she -believed she understood and could play with the best. But this was not -flirtation: it was right down solemn earnest; and she was pleased in -thinking that it was. A good man's happiness was in her hands; and -more, she liked the man, and believed, I dare affirm--though we must -not say "intended to accept" what has not yet been offered--that when -he declared himself she would lend a friendly ear. - -And yet she had rather he would have flirted. The stir and interest of -the game would have afforded the excitement for which she craved. It -was but a game, and could be played without a second thought. The -serious thing was different. So much depends on it, that people play -it slower; and they play it with the heart, and not the head, which is -the more nimble member. It was movement and excitement for which her -fibres ached; though peace, if that had been attainable, had been far -more precious. - -"How fond you must be of the sea!" she said at last. "We seem to have -been standing here a long time." - -Joseph started, and turned. Her voice had broken in upon a reverie -which could not be called a day-dream. It had been too passive for -succession of ideas, and was rather a receptive bathing in the -blissfulness of the situation. But yet no waking could have been -sweeter than the sound of that voice which now addressed him. It was -the same which he remembered long ago, whose echoes had thrilled him -in his dreams, and made his wakings sorrowful to find it was not -there. It was with a smile and a deep full breath of satisfaction that -he turned to his companion. - -"Forgive me," he said. "It is so pleasant being here, that I forgot -about passing time.... Yes, I am fond of the sea. I always was. I left -home to go to sea when I was a boy--could not stay away from it. It is -so big and so even, and it changes under one's very eye, you can't -tell how. It feels as if it were alive--a being that could understand -your thoughts without your telling them." - -"So it does. I know the feeling, although I never attempted to put it -into words.... The sea is company--when one is alone; but now----?" -and she looked up in his eyes with the flicker of a smile which was -scarcely reproachful, yet not quite humorous. - -"Most true," he answered, smiling in reply. "The silent communion with -Nature is not a sociable observance; and, as you say, we must have -stood here a good while. Let's follow this footpath. It seems to run -round the island on the inner side. The walking will be easier, and we -shall get back sooner than by crossing the hill as we came." - -The path ran for a time along the edge of cliffs, which stood some -forty or fifty feet above the sea, and sank sheer down into deep -water, fretting the smooth green billows rolling by into a fringe of -foam. Turning with the rounding of the land, the path struck down upon -the leeward side of the island and ran along the shore. - -"Should we not hurry?" Rose Hillyard observed. "The tide must have -sunk a long way since we left the steamer. See those rocks covered -with wet sea-weed. They must have been under water this last tide, and -now they are feet above it. The captain spoke about the tide, and his -fear of stranding, and being forced to wait twelve hours for next high -water. Must we not make haste?" - -"I do not see why we should disturb ourselves. There are three of our -people yonder, sitting on a sandhill and at ease. Had we not better do -likewise? They seem happy.... As for me, I have no watch, and no care -for time. Let us be guided by _them_." - -"And my watch has stopped, or something. Well!... I hope those others -are keeping track of the time.... Yes, it is nice here. The air is -more still than it was on the cliffs, and yet not so hot. But is the -light not growing dim? This is pleasanter than the glare of mid-day. -Why can it not be always afternoon? Yet, has it not come on us rather -suddenly?" - -They were sitting now, and their talk was dribbling along in an easy, -drowsy way, such as might be expected from people who had been for so -many hours in each other's company. It was after luncheon, after a -walk, after a day whose heat and blazing brightness had only been made -tolerable by fresh sea-air, in itself a form of stimulation. Their -nerves, all day kept tense, were relaxing now, and a restful feeling, -born of harmonious companionship, was extending from the mind into the -physical system, and producing a tranquillity in which content was -verging towards lethargy. In fact, they were a little tired, and more -than a little sleepy. Head propped on hand, and that supported on the -extended elbow, they reclined upon the bent which clothed a swelling -sandhill. Conversation grew intermittent and monosyllabic, and then -ceased--their eyelids growing momentarily heavier without their being -aware. - -A shrill reverberation broke upon the air. It stopped, and began anew, -and ended in a volley of shrill, short, barking shrieks. Joseph lifted -his head and looked about. He had forgot about the steamboat, and the -idea of its whistling a recall did not occur to him It was sea-fowl he -thought of in that solitary place, and he wondered drowsily at the -harshness of their cry, and their strength of lung. He threw a -listless glance aloft, but not a wing was visible over all the sky; -only the sun was veiled now in a cloud, and did not dazzle--which was -comfortable, and made the restful feeling more complete. - -The next sensation he was conscious of was damp. Big drops of rain -were lighting on his face, and wetting his limbs through the thin -summer clothing. He started now. Yes, he must have slept. The sky was -black, and the scene grown dim like twilight. Like twilight for an -instant, and then a blinding flash made everything intensely visible, -and the heavens seemed to crack above the trembling earth with loud -reverberating thunder. - -He started and laid his hand on his companion's shoulder. - -"Rosa!"--How sweet the name felt on his lips, even in his hurry! It -was his first time to use it. But had he the right?--"Miss Hillyard! -Arouse! A storm is coming on. You will be drenched. Arouse!" - -Rose opened her eyes. She looked straight in his, and with a pleasant -smile. It was an instant before she was fully conscious of the -situation--so sweet an instant! Then she was herself, and sprang to -her feet. - -"We must run! But where? How wrong of me to sleep!" It was Joseph who -spoke. "Ha! down yonder on the beach I see a boat. We may find shelter -for you near there." - -The lightning flashed incessantly. The air quivered with the -resounding thunderclaps succeeding one another without interval or -pause. The rain streamed down. The windows of heaven were opened, and -the waters of the firmament descended in sheets, as if to overwhelm -the earth. - -He took her hand, and they hurried along the sands towards the boat, -as quickly as they could, by the gleam of the intermittent flashes, -which blinded while they lasted, and yet made the intervals between -seem dark as night by contrast. - -A halloo reached them as they stumbled on, and made them turn aside, -where, in a sheltered corner, stood the fishermen's hut. They were -inside in a moment, still dazed and panting from the buffeting storm, -and streaming with rain, though the time they had been exposed to it -was shorter than it has taken to relate. Grateful for the shelter, -they recognised that it was Blount and Wilkie who had hailed them, -while Margaret stood within, coaxing some dying embers into flame with -the aid of a fan and some fresh fuel, preparatory to drying herself; -for she too had been caught in the rain, though she had not been -drenched as Rose was. The men, watching the storm from the open door, -had seen the others hurrying by, and had hailed them to the shelter -they would otherwise have missed. - -"You?" cried Walter Blount, in a tone which betrayed perhaps a shade -of disappointment as well as the natural surprise. He had known of the -expedition to Fessenden's Island, and had sailed thither in hopes of -what would scarcely be an accidental meeting, and he had been -fortunate beyond his expectation. When the whistle of the steamer had -sounded, he had heard, but Margaret had taken no heed, and Wilkie in -his discomfiture, had seemingly not observed. It would have been -gratuitous on his part, he thought, to disturb the harmony and -precipitate a parting, seeing that he had a boat of his own, in which -they could return at any time. If Wilkie would have gone, it would -have been better still, only that Margaret must have accompanied him; -wherefore he exerted himself to brighten the talk, and keep their -thoughts as far as possible from the subject of the steamer; and to -his own surprise he succeeded, for he could not understand why "_that -fellow Wilkie_" should feel engrossed. - -And perhaps the "fellow" was not, but only mortified and squelched at -the unwonted neglect into which he, who had come to look on himself as -an invincible lady-killer, had fallen. Anything seemed better to him -than the shame of returning to the steamer alone. How would he feel -when asked what he had done with his companion? And, foolishly, he had -a misgiving that if he proposed to return, she would not accompany -him. Her attention was now transferred entirely to the rival, and he -found himself nowhere. But he would stick to her like a burr. One can -sometimes spoil a game which one cannot join in. He was sure the rival -wished him away; and that was reason enough for sticking fast and -showing no sign. By-and-by, when the other was gone, the lady would be -more amenable to his displeasure, and then would be his time to show -it. - -As time wore on, the sky grew dark, and presently the storm was upon -them. They retreated to the hut, and then Margaret remembered about -the steamboat. Wilkie looked at his watch, and said they had outstayed -their time; but the deluge of rain made it impossible now to set out -on the return. Blount's man was despatched to warn the skipper, and -they resigned themselves to await the subsidence of the storm. The -last users of the hut had left a fire behind them, of which a coal or -two still smouldered in the ashes; and Margaret, uneasy at the account -she should have to render by-and-by, made busy in rekindling the -blaze, rather than resign herself to forebodings of a maternal -lecture. - -"You?" was Blount's exclamation, repeated a second time, when the -newcomers entered the hut; and the tone of disappointment verged -closely on disgust. Joseph Naylor was his friend, but at that moment -he would have preferred almost any other intruder. He was his friend, -but he was also Margaret's uncle, and therefore the most unwelcome man -who could have appeared. Standing by the open door and listening to -the thunder and the falling rain, after despatching his boatman to the -steamer, he had been building himself a castle in the air. The -steamboat would be gone when his messenger reached the landing. The -man, while obeying, had assured him of that, as it was only at the -height of the tide that she was able to approach the island. The -steamboat being gone, Margaret must take passage back with him in his -sail-boat. Landed at Lippenstock together, it would not be hard to -give Wilkie the slip; and then, behind a lively trotter, they could -start for parts unknown. It would be days before the family could -overtake them. Ere then they would be man and wife, and the family -would gladly make the best of what it could no longer prevent. He had -never known Margaret so soft and sweetly amenable to influence as she -had been these last two hours. Fortune seemed to have softened her -mood on purpose to assist him. He felt sure he could persuade her; and -here, at the very turning-point of his fate, appeared uncle Joseph, -"_a god out of a machine_," to spoil all. It was unspeakably grievous. - -Wilkie cried "You!" at the same moment as Walter; but the tone was -different. There was hope and relief in both his face and voice, in -marked contrast with the other. Consolation, hope, indemnity for -slights, all shone before his view in the appearance of Rose Hillyard. -She was escorted, to be sure, but only by "old Naylor"--a man half as -old again as himself, and not nearly so polished or agreeable. "The -Hillyard" had often struck him as in many respects superior to -Margaret Naylor. At the worst, to form one in a quintet could not but -be pleasanter than he had found the part of supernumerary in a trio. -He positively beamed upon the newcomers, and would willingly have -heaped wood on the fire, and even assisted Rose to make herself -comfortable; but she assured him that Margaret Naylor and herself -could do everything, and he must rejoin the men in the porch without, -or, like Peeping Tom of Coventry, he might find himself struck blind -on the spot. - - - - - END OF THE FIRST VOLUME. - - - - - PRINTED BY WILLIAM BLACKWOOD AND SONS. - - - - - - - - - - - -End of Project Gutenberg's True to a Type, Vol. I (of 2), by Robert Cleland - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK TRUE TO A TYPE, VOL. 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