Deena

“ With Deena the spring moved drearily. Her position was strangely anomalous; she was neither wife nor widow, without the right to be glad or sad—only dumbly wretched. She could not mourn for a husband who might be living, nor could she ignore the fact that he might be dead, and all the while that parting scene with Stephen burned into her conscience like a brand.
She shut herself up with Polly and the baby, and hardly went out of the house while she remained in New York. Love for the child crept deep into her heart and soothed her into patience when all else failed. ”

“ Yea! old Deena hath to remember his soul and if mistress Siyah Yamin----"
"Siyah Yamin! What of her," queried Âtma sharply even as she added, "Speak, lower, fool! Thou wilt disturb the child."
Deena made a grimace of apology, pursed his face up, looked at the sleeper, shook his head with elaborate regret, and then hitching his drum round to equalise his balance, squatted with his elbows resting on it, ready for a calm whispered recital of what he had come prepared to tell.
"There is no need to begin at the beginning," he said tentatively and was rewarded by Âtma's curt "Tell all, slave! ”

“ But never mind about doctors; they’re all alike—bad’s the best! You look handsome and healthy enough to keep out of their clutches; tell me all about yourself.”
“There is never anything to tell about me,” said Deena. “I am much more concerned to know why you are here.”
Mrs. Star’s eyes softened.
“Because Stephen wouldn’t stop long enough in New York for me to exchange ten words with him, and so I did the next best thing—indeed, the only thing I could do to satisfy my affection—I came with him; and upon my word, I do not think he wanted me! Now, how do you account for that, Mrs. Deena?” ”

“ Deena was wearing the old blue dress he had recommended to her the night before. It could not be from coquetry—she was above coquetry—but perhaps she had put it on to recall associations; to remind him of the close bonds of friendship that existed between them in those pleasant autumn days that followed Simeon’s departure. Stephen was not very learned in the make of women’s frocks, but he understood color and could appreciate how that steely-blue made her complexion glow warm as ivory and her hair like copper. ”

“ The nicest musical ear might have detected small change in Deena's accompaniment, but Âtma professed herself satisfied.
"And now," asked the old go-between, as she leant back wearily, "What next?"
"Nothing," she answered. "One is enough for a day. Thou canst come to-morrow--for reward or punishment."
"And the mistress hath no orders, no message?" he asked, winking at the duenna elaborately.
"Nothing; save to get thee gone as quick as may be. See him out, woman!" ”

“ Fortunately for Deena’s peace of mind, it was Ben who figured in these reflections as the exponent of what a husband should be, and she had no suspicion that it was Stephen French who had waked her from her domestic coma.
Poor sleeping beauty, her conscience had long ago been pricked by her mother-in-law’s spindle, and her whole moral sense infected with the belief that to keep house wisely was the end and aim of wifely duty. She reverenced Simeon for his learning and dignity, and felt proud that so simple a person as herself should have been chosen in marriage by a professor of Harmouth. ”

“ I ought to have been more mindful that young people need pleasure. You will have to forgive that and many other mistakes.” He looked at her almost wistfully.
Deena’s tears came, dripping plentifully over her clasped hands.
“It is I who should ask forgiveness,” she said, humbly, remembering how often she had scorned his economies. “The money is more than I shall need—don’t think of it again, Simeon. Isn’t there anything you want to tell me about your work—your book?” ”

“ The lot of women is to wait, and they do it under a pressure of nervous strain that makes it slow torture. No turn of fortune could have surprised Deena at this crisis, for her imagination had pictured every possibility.
When a summer storm blackened the sky she saw the yacht tempest-tossed and sinking, driven before a tropical cyclone; when the sun shone, she fancied it sailing gayly into port with Simeon restored to health, expecting to find her as he left her—the willing slave, the careful housewife—and she shivered and went pale at the thought ”

“ Do you suppose I should dare admit to Polly that Deena is as handsome as she is? Why, man alive, a Russian warship off Port Arthur would be a place of safety compared to this automobile.”
Deena, laughing though embarrassed, was trying to cover the countenance that provoked the discussion with a veil, for her hat strained at its pins and threatened to blow back to Harmouth before the knotty point was settled as to who should pay for it. ”

“ Deena recognized her place in her husband’s estimation when she finished his letter to Stephen, and said, with pardonable sarcasm:
“Simeon saves the strong meat of observation for masculine digestion, and I get only the hors-d’œuvres; perhaps he has discriminated wisely.”
The mere fact of being able to exchange letters with Deena was a revelation to French, and as he walked home from their interview his fancy was busy putting himself in Simeon’s place. The paths that lead through another man’s kingdom are never very safe for the wandering feet of imagination. ”

“ When affairs of a family once begin to stir, they seem unable to settle till a flurry takes place quite bewildering to the stagnant ideas of the easy-going. The fact that Deena was coming back to her old quarters in the third story was the first event to excite a flutter of interest in the Shelton home circle; with Mr. Shelton, because she was his favorite child; with Mrs. Shelton, because Deena would both pay and help; with the children, because they could count upon her kindness no matter how outrageous their demands. ”

“ In this way Deena was passed on, stamped with the hall-mark of the Mayflower. Mrs. Shelton had contributed very generously to her daughter’s outfit for the season in New York. The black velvet picture dress was only one of several found suitable for her use in the trunk of finery belonging to the Chicago cousin, and the jewels that had come into the Shelton family from the same source were worthy of Deena’s beauty. Her clothes were good, and she wore them like a princess. ”

“ Star was introducing a Russian grand duke, and Stephen, surrendering his chair, withdrew to the other side of his aunt.
Deena could not but admire the old lady’s admirable manner. She kept up an easy chatter, sometimes in French, sometimes in English, with the Russian and with a Spanish artist; she never allowed Deena to feel out of touch with the conversation, and in the midst of it all she managed to welcome her nephew.
“You are stopping at my house, of course, Stephen? No—at the Savoy? That is uncharitable to a lonely old woman. Where did you know that pretty creature, Mrs. Ponsonby?” ”

“ I happen to have been in active correspondence for some time with the man who virtually set the thing going, and he has asked me to send him a botanist from here. Shall I offer the chance to your husband? He must go at once. It is already spring in that part of the world, and the summer at Cape Horn is short.”
Deena’s face grew crimson and then paled. She felt an emotion she could not believe—pure, unalloyed joy! But in a second she understood better; it was joy, of course, but joy at Simeon’s good luck. ”

“ Deena picked it up and read: “From Mother to Simeon.” The coincidence worked so on her imagination that she sank into the nearest chair trembling from head to foot, and then she reflected that she must have pulled the card out of the table drawer when she went to fetch the portfolio the night before, and she called herself a superstitious silly, and made her bath a little colder than usual, as a tonic to her nerves. Cold water and hot food work wonders, and after breakfast young Mrs. Ponsonby forgot she had ever had a predecessor. ”

“ Even this supreme sacrifice she was prepared to make if they failed to send Deena, or if the Feringhi failed to come. For she must have time.
She leant listlessly on the steps below the cupola toying idly with a scrap of silk-made writing paper and pen and ink. A slave-woman, gaoler, duenna--whom Âtma had sent from her very side on plea of chilliness, was standing a little way apart, making believe to drive away the sunset-time mosquitoes with a peacock's feather fan; in reality watching every movement of her charge. ”

“ What dazzled the ladies of Harmouth was really a certain easy luxury in dress and habits not common in the little town. It is always the exotic we prize in our conservatories.
This summing up of French’s outer man was not Deena’s estimate, as she watched his approach—she was too familiar with his appearance to receive any especial impression. She accepted his apologies for his cigar and for keeping her waiting with an indifferent air, and turned once more toward the sea. ”

“ Deena was too superior a woman not to be ashamed of such thoughts, but the repression of her married life had developed a morbid sensitiveness, and she was always trying to adjust the unadjustable—Simeon’s small economies to her own ideas of personal dignity ”

“ Deena considered the two points of his answer—expense and Simeon’s approbation—and replied thoughtfully:
“My husband would recognize so simple a duty, and, as far as expense goes, I am a perfectly independent woman. ”

“ What wonder that an hour should slip away before they realized the flight of time?
Mrs. Star received her nephew’s announcement with suitable effusion, and with an undercurrent of genuine feeling. After kissing Deena, she made a confidence that had a spice of kindly malice.
“My dear child,” she said, “I knew so well what was about to happen, that I came all the way from New York in order to welcome you into the family, and I think I showed great self-restraint not to tell you so in the carriage when you put that very direct question as to what brought me.” ”

“ Her beauty was of little consequence to her brother, who was busy considering the advantages that might accrue to himself from Stephen’s return.
“When Mr. French went away, he said I could ride his saddle horse, and though I’ve been there half a dozen times since Ben left, that old beast of a coachman won’t let me inside the stable. Will you tell Mr. French when he comes home what an old puddin’ head he’s got to look after his horses? The man ought to be kicked out!”
“I shall hardly venture to complain to Mr. French about his servants,” said Deena. ”

“ Look at me. I'm not good-looking. My clothes are not right. I don't wear them properly. I can't say pretty things. The best I can do is to buy flowers and chocolates and express them. I daren't even hand them to you. Oh, I've thought it all over. What use am I to a woman?" Then as an after-thought he added, "to a girl?" He turned and paced away from Dorothy without looking at her.
"Oh, shucks!"
John Dene swung round on his heel as if he had been struck. His jaw dropped, his cigar fell from his mouth, and he looked at her as if she had said the most surprising thing he had ever heard. ”

“ Miss Deane's eyes grew moist.
"Oh, I thank you for telling me your story!" she said. "It is beautiful, and you have lived a noble life."
The shadows had grown deeper in the woods as Miss Carroway followed a path back to the lake, and so around to the Lodge. The sun had vanished from the tree tops, and some of the light and reflex of youth had faded from the old lady's face.
Perhaps she was a little weary with her walk, and it may be a little disappointed at what she had heard, or rather what she had not heard, in her talk with Constance Deane. ”

“ Gently she said: "I must have made things very hard for you, Deane. The town—your friends—your people, because of me you were against them all. That does make things hard—to be apart from the people you are with." She looked at him, her face softened with affectionate regret, with a newly understanding gratitude. "I've not been very good for your life, have I, Deane?" she said, more lightly, but her voice touched with wistfulness.
He looked at her, as if willing to meet that, as if frankly considering it. "I can't say that you've been very good for my happiness, Ruth," he laughed. ”

“ He did not say anything, miserably wondering what she now thought of him as her friend.
"Oh, Deane," she broke out, "don't be hard! If you could know what he's suffering! Being a man—being a little older—what's that? If you can understand me, Deane, you've got to understand him, too!"
He stood there in silence looking at Ruth as, looking away from him now, she brooded over that. In this hour of her own humiliation her appeal was for the man who had brought it upon her. "How you love him!" ”

“ And then that news of the divorce had come to mock her.
But she must do something for Deane. Deane must not go like that. She had brought pencil and writing tablet with her, thinking that perhaps out of doors, away from the house where she had seemed locked in all winter, she could write to him. She thought of things to say, things that should be said, but she did not seem to have any power to charge them with life. How could the dead rouse the dead? She sat there thinking of her and Deane, of how they had always been able to reach one another. ”

“ Deans heard a knock at the side door. She opened it herself to find old Mrs. Holder, bent, wet, furious, standing in the slush. Mrs. Deans bade her come in, with a meaning look at the corn husk mat before the door.
Mrs. Holder paid no heed to the look, but with muddy feet stepped into the room fair upon Mrs. Deans' new rag carpet, and standing there, a quaint old figure, clad in the forgotten fashion of thirty years back, proceeded to give Mrs. Deans what that lady herself would have called "a hearing." ”