Marshall Saunders

“ He smiled slightly, called Derrice, and the picnic party took up its way to the wood, while Chelda returned to the house.
She was not lonely, although she had never in her life been as much cut off from society as she was this summer. She despised Rossignol, she disliked the people in it. Only one person had made the place endurable to her, and that person had been driven from her. She had now but one desire,—to accomplish her vengeance, to see Derrice unhappy, one-tenth as unhappy as she was,—and then to take her aunt to some place nearer the man without whom her life was unendurable. ”

“ Saints this way, sinners that. I am no saint, yet I am not an out-and-out sinner."
Derrice stirred uneasily in her seat, and earnestly longed for her husband. At last a solution of the difficulty occurred to her. "What kind of people do you like to be with in this world, Miss Gastonguay?"
Her hostess looked around the table. The way of sinners, the seat of the scornful, had never been hers. These people about her board were all serious, thoughtful, and worthy of respect.
"If you like good people," said Derrice, "then you will be with them in the world to come." ”

“ Huntington was in a far corner of the room, his hands crossed behind him, his resplendent head shining against a white window curtain, as he talked to Aurelia Sinclair.
Derrice was glad that she had not worn her gleaming satin. Neither Mr. Huntington nor Captain Veevers was in evening dress. Aurelia wore an old-fashioned, high-necked purple "silk shiver" gown, Miss Chelda one of figured velvet, while Miss Gastonguay had on a kind of men's smoking jacket.
"Well, young people," she said, coming forward, watch in hand, "you are five minutes late. A bad way to begin your married life." ”

“ Miss Gastonguay smiled grimly, and turned to Chelda. "And you, my niece, what would you do?"
Chelda's soul was steeped in the very bitterness of hatred as she surveyed the compassionate face beyond her, but she gave no outward sign of it, and responded with her usual composure, "Such people all seem like vipers to me. They are not of our kind. I should not allow one to run loose, not one. I would severely isolate them so that they might not bite me."
"You are wrong—wrong!" interposed Derrice. "They are like ourselves. They are not different. ”

“ I am tired of clever ones."
"This is not love," continued Miss Gastonguay, "it is self-esteem. Let me speak to you as if you were my son. I like you—I pity you. Thank Heaven that Chelda does discard you. Such a match would have been most unsuitable. Pay court to some gentle girl like Aurelia Sinclair, who will love and admire you. Chelda is, as you say, insincere and she loves another man. Dear young man," and she suddenly laid her hand on his shoulder, "let me say a last word to you. I am soon to shake off this world and its troubles. ”

“ Her black eyes fastened themselves on the pale face on the sofa cushion. Not a look, not an action escaped them, and she made not the slightest effort to control her eagerness as she hung over her guest.
"Your distress is mental, not physical," she murmured, when Miss Gastonguay and Prosperity had left them. "Tell me about it."
Aurelia, naturally frank, was in her state of exhaustion doubly open to persuasion, and yet her bloodless lips could not frame the secret of her distress.
"It is Mr. Huntington," said Chelda, "you are sorry to think he has gone away." ”

“ Miss Gastonguay obstinately shook her head. Never again in her life would she look on the old red-shingled building. "Perhaps I'll come to meet you," she said, when Derrice made no pretence at concealing her disappointment.
"I guess you'd better stay behind, too, Hippolyta," said Captain White to his flushed spouse. "You look as if you'd been having a staring match with old Sol and he'd beaten you. What are you for, Justin?"
"Nothing, but to be let alone," said the young man, enjoyably. ”

“ Derrice, in secret amusement, was obliged to summon her husband to her assistance, in arranging a refractory ruffle.
"Why is it," she whispered as he gropingly tried to fasten a pin over one of her smooth shoulder-blades, "that one sees no women servants about this house?"
"Because," he whispered back, "Miss Gastonguay is a rabid champion for men. She says one hears nothing but arrangements for women's homes and asylums, and women's work of all kinds, and she believes in looking out for some of the neglected ones." ”

“ Miss Gastonguay went on. "I think of this great nation and tremble, so young, so prosperous,—what is to be the end of us? Are we to follow Greece and Rome?"
Derrice in quiet interest stirred her tea and examined the wrinkled, composite face opposite,—at times so square, so set, so taciturn; at others so vivacious, so mobile, so open in expression. "I have always fancied that New England was a poor sort of a place," she said, finally. ”

“ There was a lamb on the grave, a sculptured lamb of white Maine granite, and above towered a colossal figure in flesh-red stone of the founder of the house,—stout-hearted Louis Gastonguay, who stood as in life, his back to the sea, his trusty musket in his right hand, his left pointing urgently toward the interior of the vast country whose exploration was the chief topic of conversation in his day. ”

“ Derrice, in mild wonder, followed her, until the startling discovery dawned upon her that she herself was one of the subjects of the petition. She was the stiff-necked sinner, the scorner of grace, the vessel doomed to everlasting wrath. And was it Captain White who was to go down to destruction with her? She cast a glance toward him, and was answered by a reassuring nod.
"She don't often get the chance to hold forth," he whispered, behind his uplifted hand. "Justin usually takes charge." ”

“ To her chagrin, the girl sauntered into the room in a dull brown walking suit, and with a single eyeglass mischievously fixed under one light eyebrow.
Mrs. Prymmer was speechless. Such a thing had never before been heard of in the length and breadth of Rossignol,—that one human being should, through a solitary piece of glass, dare to stare at, examine, and confuse another human being not blessed with a single piece of glass. "The girl was as full of tricks as a monkey," she indignantly reflected.
"Did you want me?" asked Derrice. ”

“ I thought perhaps he was in love with Chelda. She usually has a dozen admirers about."
How blinded she was by her partiality for her niece; and Justin could not enlighten her, could not say, "I have studied your niece. With a cunning born of her infatuation for this man, she is deliberately setting herself to wean him from his allegiance to the Church back to the fleshly pleasures of the world."
"Miss Gastonguay," he said, slowly, "the man, as I understand him, is not thinking of love or marriage. You can imagine such a thing as the conversion of the intellect and not the heart?" ”

“ Shall we spurn the joy of acceptance? We truly repent. Let us atone for the past. We are tired of the world,—you and I. Let us live apart from it. I claim you as my wife. You are mine, and I will take you from all former haunts. There is much good in the world as well as evil, but we have shown ourselves weak. Chelda, will you come?"
She collected herself. "I beg that you will go away," she said, rising, and trembling from head to foot.
"Very well," he said, composedly, reaching for his hat, "I do not wish to distress you, but you will not forget what I have said?" ”

“ The French Cross pony had always been regarded as an intelligent and highly cultured animal, an amusement to his mistress and the town in general, and by no means a source of melancholy.
Yet such he became after Miss Gastonguay had been laid to rest by the largest concourse of people that had ever assembled to do honour to a citizen of Rossignol.
The pony did not understand that his dear mistress lay under the green mound in the cemetery. He had seen her carried to the house, he had never seen her come out, and his mystification was complete. Where was she? How had she the heart to elude him? ”

“ Derrice continued, with difficulty, "he said, 'They have got the wrong man.' I tried to drag him forward to tell the policeman, but he held me back. 'You can't get the real criminal,' he told me. 'Probably you would have to dig him out of some grave. This man is what his parents have made him.'"
"Now that is not so," said Miss Gastonguay, angrily, "that is nothing but a lie. I say degeneracy is innate in some mortals. Nothing takes it out."
Derrice scarcely heard her. "My father went on to tell me," she continued, in a dreamy voice, "of a man he once knew who did not want to be bad. ”

“ Derrice smiled as the fat white animal, with a mischievous roll of his light eyes at his mistress, hurried down the drive to the street, and, with the dexterity of a veteran, wheeled the cart directly in front of her.
Derrice got in, and Miss Gastonguay, after a soft slap on the animal's neck, followed her.
"It is 'jolly,' as English people say, that you have not seen the town," said Miss Gastonguay, picking up the lines. "I love to get hold of new people. Don't you know a thing about it? Hasn't your husband told you?" ”

“ He had stretched himself out on the bench behind the giant tree, and only his head was visible to the people on the other side of it.
"Take off your glasses and rest your eyes," said Derrice, going to him and putting his spectacles in his pocket. "We won't be long," and, surreptitiously kissing the ear in which she whispered the words, she hurried after her escort, who was walking briskly along with both elbows cutting the air in his usual fashion.
"They're as lively as two mosquitoes," observed Mrs. White, amiably.
"And I'm as sleepy as an owl," said Miss Gastonguay. ”

“ Look steadily forward. Leave French Cross and be happy. My blessing always,—always. Never forget it. Nothing would change it, nothing you could say or do. No one has told me anything, but I suspected and know the truth."
She stopped for a few minutes. The pain was coming on. One look she cast up at the brave blue of the sky, then she went on, "Derrice Mercer, my dear friend. Good-bye, good-bye. Keep clean your sweet soul. Train wisely all who may come to you. Do not forget me. We shall meet again. Do not lose heart. Trust your husband; he will advise." ”

“ Dog-days had come, and on one of the days when the dogstar rose and set most persistently with the sun Miss Gastonguay was strolling toward the avenue gates.
The day had been too hot to walk, too hot to ride. Now at approaching evening she felt restless, and looking searchingly at the road wished that Derrice or her now frequent visitor, Captain White, would come to see her.
Their well-known figures were not in sight. Only a young man on a bicycle was coming down the road. He was barely moving, and, with a thought of the heat of the evening, Miss Gastonguay murmured a listless, "Simpleton." ”

“ Miss Gastonguay could not help discussing Derrice, who had been thrown like a bombshell into her quiet life. "What a contrast she is to Chelda," she purred in Justin's ear. "My niece is a woman of the world; your wife is an emancipated baby. Chelda [171] is devoted to me, and will be jealous of any attention I bestow on an outsider. I wish they could be friends. I suppose we could not tell her?" And the wistfulness of an advancing old age that would fain lean upon youth crept into her tone. ”

“ Sometimes the herring boats would be nearing the wharves, and the factory whistles would be sounding in a deafening chorus. She used to enjoy seeing men, women, and children running to their work. Perhaps he would discover her standing in some doorway, and he earnestly scanned the passing faces.
No, she was never there, and disappointedly he would drag himself through the town, stopping at the stores, the bank, and the office of Potts Brothers, where Mr. Jonah Potts would wink his red eyes and mutter that he wished some one would shoot that pony. ”

“ Prymmer heard the clearly spoken sentence, yet she rushed forward with outstretched hand, "Why, Miss Gastonguay, you're a sight for sore eyes."
"Am I?" said the lady, coolly, and overlooking the offered hand. "I don't think your eyes have ever beheld me with much favour since I sat on the bench behind you and the other small girls at school, and for the sake of example exposed your cheating at lessons to the master. Do go away, Hippolyta Prymmer,—you hate me, you know you do, and upon my word I've no love for you. What is the use of being sneaky when old age is creeping on you? ”

“ No one spoke to him, and he died in the horrors."
"Can't you run away from them?" said Miss Gastonguay, with a burst of impassioned appeal. "Leave the atmosphere of crime. I'll send you anywhere."
"Anywhere; I don't want to go. Would you be happy in my hang-out? No, ma'am. Would I be happy in yours? No, ma'am, again. You rich people don't know what liberty is."
"Liberty—liberty," she repeated, warningly. "A liberty that ends in a prison."
"You straight people make queer mistakes. I'm a better lot than my family. They don't live by rule as I do. They'll lie and pick at small truck. ”

“ Aurelia's face at once took a rapt expression. Delicate waves of colour flowed over it, and in a sweet, thin tone of intense admiration she extended one hand in Miss Gastonguay's direction, and exclaimed, "I admire to give the character of such a woman to a stranger. Mrs. Mercer, this is the favourite of the town. Everybody loves her, everybody trusts her. She will speak sharply, but her tongue is always honest, and even when it is giving deserved reproof there will be tears in her kind eyes. ”

“ Justin in the utmost satisfaction descended to the hall and put on his overcoat. Derrice was becoming more and more in love with him every day. He certainly was a very happy man, and in beatific silence he gazed at his mother, who was standing in the dining-room doorway, divided between gratification at his invitation to French Cross and annoyance that she should not be included in it. ”

“ Later on—in the middle of the night—Miss Gastonguay emphasised this decision. Derrice's spirit certainly was not gone.
For the rest of the evening the girl was like one [258] moving in an enchanted dream. Her eyes shone, her cheeks glowed, her hair glittered in the lamplight like a crown set over her fair brows. Miss Gastonguay, fascinated by her beauty, could not keep her gaze from her, and even Chelda threw her a frequent glance of an apparently generous admiration. ”

“ Your feet are on the everlasting rock, my Master will be your Master."
"Is this your rock?" she asked, laying her hand on the Bible.
"Yes,—the rock of our forefathers, the foundation on which the prosperity of New England is built, the rock scorned by unbelievers."
"It is a good rock," she said, seriously. "I have heard of the forefathers of New England. I have married one of their sons. I choose his faith."
Justin, overcome and subdued by the unutterable joy that had come upon him, rushed to his own room. He did not wish to break down before her. ”

“ Derrice and Miss Gastonguay were singularly alike in their honest vivacity. Both were incapacitated by their intellectual make-up from understanding the hidden motives of so deep a soul as Chelda's.
Derrice was gazing back at the lighted house. "How delightfully foreign it is!"
Aurelia, too, looked back, but her thought was not of the house, and her thin lips trembled as she murmured, "Yes." Captain Veevers did not speak, but Justin said, decidedly, "I do not like it."
"Why not?" asked his wife, in surprise.
"Because I do not believe in Americans aping [189] foreign architecture. ”

“ This had afforded Miss Gastonguay the consolation of Derrice, and a day might come, a day would come, he feared, when her ministrations and forgiveness might be needed for the wanderer himself. It was better for a woman of her temperament to have time to brood over a matter than to have it suddenly announced to her. ”