Rosa Nouchette Carey

“ Queenie was not sufficiently experienced in the ways of the world to know how quickly hearts are caught at the rebound. She had no idea of the real state of the case, and that Garth's first thought in his mortification had been to seek solace in her friendship. She only knew that somehow Garth had been nicer, and she had done him good.
"What does it matter if one is disappointed here?" thought the young visionary in that first sweet gush of satisfaction, "that it is all giving and no return—at least, not the return that one wants? life will not last for ever. ”

“ And that night he thought less of Dora.
How inexplicable are the ways of mankind, even the best of them. Garth, with all his uprightness and integrity, failed to see that his conduct lay open to questioning when, after this evening, he began to haunt the cottage. He was only seeking solace and forgetfulness, a healing compensation for the hurt under which he still smarted at intervals; but he had no idea that such self-indulgence might be fraught with peril to another's peace!
Queenie could not tell him if the intercourse between them were too pleasant to be perfectly harmless. ”

“ Beatrix was the handsomer of the two, with lively dark eyes and an expression of great animation. Flo was plainer, with an odd, piquante face and fair hair like Dora's, which she wore cropped and curly like a boy's.
"Poor Flo has lost all her beautiful hair," observed her sister, passing her hand regretfully over the curls. "Is she not grown? and Beattie too? They make me look such a little thing beside them."
"Beatrix has grown such a fashionable young lady that I shall be half afraid of her," returned Garth, looking at the girl with kindly interest. ”

“ Queenie, who was as healthy-minded and straightforward as any pious, well-conducted young person could be, had yet fallen into the error of supposing that she might deviate into a by-path of romance and unreality without causing any great disturbance in her little world, while, in point of fact, she was only raising difficulties for herself. If she had gone to Garth Clayton and acknowledged the truth with all the eloquence of which she had been capable he would have been charmed with her naïveté and frankness, and treated the whole matter as a girlish whim. ”

“ The small world of Hepshaw only saw in Miss Charity a little bright-eyed woman, with a caustic tongue and a temper soured by disappointment and suffering; but no one but Faith, and perhaps Dr. Stewart, knew what the martyred body and nerves bore day and night.
"I feel sometimes like St. Lawrence on his gridiron; I wish it were a bed of roses to me too," she said once grimly to her sister; but not even to her did she speak of the slow agonies that consumed her. What would be the use, she thought; pain is sent to be borne, not to be talked about. ”

“ Logan's face as he walked by Queenie's side down the path bordered by plane trees that led from the station to the Deerhound.
"Miss her! how can we help missing her?" cried the girl, appealing to him with sorrowful eyes, as though to claim his sympathy. "Langley will be dreadfully lonely without her, and as for Emmie and me! why she was the only friend that we had at Granite Lodge, the dearest, and the kindest, and the bravest." But here Queenie's eulogy ended in a little sob.
"Young things love to try their strength," replied Mr. Logan, softly. ”

“ Miss Cosie would rather not be thanked," returned Queenie in a low voice.
"Must I not tell you good dear people what I think of you both?" continued Langley in her soft, persuasive manner. "When one's heart is brimming over with gratitude one cannot refrain from speaking. I always knew what unselfish Christians you were, but now you have proved it without doubt."
"Oh, my dear, this is dreadful! pray, pray do not say any more, you make me quite unhappy," exclaimed Miss Cosie, putting up her plump hands in dismay. "Miss Marriott, if you love me, ask this dear soul not to say any more." ”

“ What does she know of life and men?" he went on; "has she ever seen any worthy of her interest? For shame, Langley! you are thinking more of me than of her; you are not her best friend by any means. Let her leave us, let her quit Hepshaw, and assume her proper station; let her have the opportunity of judging us fairly, and comparing us with others. How do you or I know that she will not meet with some one far more worthy of her than ever I shall be?"
"Garth, my dear brother, this is truly generous; but I know Queenie, she will stand your test, hard as it is, but she will suffer terribly." ”

“ Should he give her this one chance more? should he write such a letter that its very sternness should constrain her to answer him? but no, she might repent and fling herself into his arms, and now his heart had gone from her.
"It is well to be off with the old love before one is on with the new," thought Garth, somewhat ruefully, but it was very clear that it was not Dora now that he wanted. "We are better apart; she will get to see that in time herself," he said, as Langley's earnest pleading rose uncomfortably to his mind. "I don't believe she is a bit in love with me." ”

“ What does it matter if he be angry if we only do him good in spite of himself? It is the end for which we are working. We want to save him and Langley and Cathy from being ruined. It does not matter so much for Ted, who is young and a man, and must work for himself. It is Langley and Cathy one must help," continued the girl, a little artfully. "I, for one, love them so dearly that I cannot bear to see them turned out of their old home, and made to feel how hard and bitter and cruel the world is, as Emmie and I have done." ”

“ But Queenie bravely battled with her sorrow; and she was not without her consolation. Letters came to her from Church-Stile House—sweet, loving ones from Langley and Cathy, and others that she read with a happy smile, and hid under her pillow.
Garth's letters were very short and kind. They were not specially lover-like, there was no protestation of affection in them; but the whole breathed a spirit of quiet, watchful tenderness—the tenderness that a good man gives to the woman who has entrusted her future to him. ”

“ What did it matter that they were middle-aged women, and that Cara's hair, at least, was streaked with grey, and that Dr. Stewart was regarding them with eyes that alternately twinkled and glistened. Had they not their feelings? was not Cara her own sister? "Oh, Cara! I never shall be able to leave you!"
"Nonsense," returned Miss Charity, pushing her away, but with tears in her eyes too. "Get up, Faith, do; what will Dr. Stewart think of us? Of course you must have him if you want him; and a good husband at your age is not to be despised, let me tell you that." ”

“ When one is so thoroughly satisfied one dreads a change."
"I like change," returned Cathy, boldly. "I think a long lease of monotonous happiness would stupefy me. Life is not a mere table-land; there are mountains to ascend before one can see the view, broad rivers to cross, and long deserts to traverse; he is a poor traveller who fears either."
"You forget Emmie and I are already footsore with our rough pilgrimage," rejoined Queenie, with her bright quaintness. ”

“ She might have had to experience the grief of seeing him refuse her aid and struggle on alone and single-handed: but such men as Garth Clayton rarely get their heads under water for long. He would have moved heaven and earth rather than this girl to help him, and in the end would have attained to some fair measure of success; and, while things were at this low ebb with him, he would have vexed himself and her by imposing a barrier of reserve and coldness on himself. Queenie would have been made to suffer for those riches of hers. ”

“ Nothing but love, which, after all, is another name for life. We are only hiding our treasures now, heaping them up in silence and darkness, like that poor Fraulein Heldrig. By-and-by, up there, those whom we love will call to us and stretch out their hands, and we shall come bearing our sheaves with us."
Queenie was weaving all manner of pure womanish fancies as Garth went back through the rain. The young man's pulses still throbbed with excitement. ”

“ He became enamored of his own company, addicted to solitary walks and an over-much use of meditation, was somewhat absent and desultory in his conversation, and haunted the lane with his cigar at all manner of unseemly hours. Queenie was not unmindful of this change in Garth. It may be doubted whether women are ever entirely unconscious of even a hidden passion; trifles are significant in such cases. A certain subtle change in Garth's tone, a hesitation, nay, a reluctance in speaking her name, a swift unguarded look, brought a sweet conviction to her mind: Dora must be forgotten. ”

“ Stewart was a far happier woman than Faith Palmer had been. Langley and Cathy were amused at the brisk, matronly airs that soon replaced the soft melancholy that had been Faith's habitual manner. Angus was evidently perfection in his wife's eyes; his opinions were the soundest, his views never to be controverted, or his word questioned.
"Are you happy, Faith?" Langley asked her very tenderly when they first met after her marriage.
"I am the happiest woman in the world; and Angus is everything that he can be," returned the mistress of Juniper Lodge. ”

“ Queenie shook her head remorselessly. "It is a pity, but one can't alter these sort of things, Emmie. Poor Madeleine loved, and suffered, and lost, as other women have done since this world began; but she would not have been without her suffering for all that."
"I can't understand you," returned the child, with tears in her eyes. "It was such a beautiful story, quite your best, and now you have spoiled the ending."
"Life is full of these sad finishes," replied the young story-teller, oracularly; "there is a fate in such things, I believe. ”

“ Langley said, by way of excuse for her downheartedness, when Queenie rose to take leave.
"One cannot always talk; I wish I were only as patient as you," had been Queenie's reply. But she breathed more freely when she had crossed the little bridge and was walking down the lane in the grey, waning light.
But Cathy came to the cottage, and was so low-spirited, and drew such dismal pictures of the future, that Emmie, who was weakly and tender-hearted, burst out crying, and for a long time refused to be comforted. ”

“ Logan to be thanked," observed Queenie, turning her face a little aside, for Miss Cosie's helplessness and terror moved her to inward laughter. "I think I would let it be, Langley."
"Yes, do, there's a dear good creature," returned Miss Cosie, breathing a little more freely; "it cuts one like a knife to hear you, and then to know that one has nothing to do with the matter at all." ”

“ The door of the parlor stood open. He was in full possession of the pretty, homely picture long before they saw him standing on the threshold. Tea was on the little round table, but the candles were still unlighted; Emmie was curled up on the rocking-chair, watching Queenie, as she knelt on the rug with a plate of crisp white cakes in her hand.
They were evidently some chef-d'œuvre of her own. She was still girded with her cooking apron; the firelight shone on her white, dimpled arms and flushed face; all sort of ruddy gleams touched her brown hair. ”

“ Emmie uttered an exclamation of delight as she looked round the large luxurious room prepared for their reception. A bright fire burnt cheerily, a trim maid-servant was spreading a snowy cloth over the little round table; the great crimson couch was drawn invitingly near the hearth, outside the pier light twinkled, and a windy flicker flared from the esplanade, while the deep wash and surge of the monotonous waves broke softly on her ears.
"Oh, Queenie, how homelike and delicious it looks! and oh, what beautiful flowers!" ”

“ Why do you come and say such things to me?" turning on her tormentor with sudden anger and impatience. "It is no business of yours; it is nothing to you if people will say untrue things of me."
"You are quite wrong there; it is my business," returned Dora quietly. She did not like her work, but, all the same, she must go through with it. "It is just this—that is my business," she repeated, and her face looked worn and irritable in the firelight. "Miss Marriott, you must know—you cannot have been so much with Langley and Cathy and not know that Garth Clayton and I belong to each other." ”

“ The bursting hedgerows, the unfolding of the fronds of ferns, the first peep of the fairy white bells of snowdrops, the pale glitter of primroses, and the fragrance of violets, gave her a positive feeling of happiness.
Everything so new, so fresh, so fair, soiled by no dust, scorched by no burning sunshine; the whole world bright and unsullied as a baby soul, to whom good and evil are unknown mysteries, and life means nothing but perpetual satisfaction and content.
Queenie had a little errand to fulfil at the vicarage ”

“ Garth put the sauce away somewhat ostentatiously, and bore himself as though he had received an injury for which there could be no forgiveness. He stood aloof as the servants crowded round the door and the young mistress dispensed her parting injunction. When the luggage was on the carriage, and the Vicar had taken down his felt hat, he came forward and handed Dora into the carriage with much dignity.
"I hope you will have a tolerably pleasant journey, and find the invalid better," he said very gravely; "please give my love to Beatrix." ”

“ I think we miss Cathy more and more every day."
"I know I do," sighed Queenie, and there came over her a sudden yearning to unbosom herself to this faithful friend. Langley was good to her, but she was not Cathy.
Garth echoed the sigh, but scarcely for the same reason. Cathy's warm-hearted sympathy would not have helped him.
"I have just left Miss Cosie. Mr. Clayton, have you nothing to say to me, nothing special, I mean?" Queenie was growing desperate, while Garth was secretly marvelling at her boldness. His paleness and changed looks filled her with dismay. ”

“ As far as he knew he was not in love with either, although he had given the preference to Dora—Dora, who allured and yet repelled him, and for whom he now felt such bitterness of resentment.
"Why are you so quiet, Mr. Garth? no one has been telling you sad stories," cried Emmie, lifting her kitten on to his knee. "I wish you would speak to Queen, she always makes things end so badly."
"I am afraid your sister draws from life," he returned absently. He spoke without intention, but a shadow swept over Queenie's sensitive face. ”