Miss Dexter

“ Pretty and well-dressed women were to be seen in High Street, and they never, except by mistake or disaster, wandered through Salt Lane. Standing in his door, and observing them according to his thoughtful fashion, Dexter remembered that his daughter was growing rapidly into a tall, handsome girl, and foresaw that she could not always be a child. He saw young misses going past with their school-books in their hands, and if he followed them with his eyes as far as eyes could follow, it was not for any reason save such as should have made them love and trust the man. ”

“ Why should I? The lady is charming. I was going to say that she has not her peer."
"Why not say it?" remarked Mrs. Dexter.
"Because," replied Mr. Hendrickson, as his eyes withdrew themselves from the face of Mrs. Dexter, "I do not believe it. She has her peer."
"She must be a lovely woman so to captivate your fancy," said Mrs. Dexter.
"Did I say that she had captivated my fancy?" asked Hendrickson.
"If not in so many formally spoken words, yet in a language that we ladies can read at a glance," replied Mrs. Dexter, affecting a gay smile. ”

“ Miss Phipp was in her bedroom, and Miss Dexter proffered the invitation, of which she took no notice. "It's perfectly preposterous," she said, turning an angry face upon her. "If this is the sort of thing that is to happen my position here will be impossible."
"My dear girl, you shouldn't lose your temper," said Miss Dexter. "They were quite right. You've no right to expect them to work in their playtime. Besides, you shouldn't have told Mrs. Clinton that they were disobedient. Come out and see their rabbits and guinea-pigs." ”

“ Dexter came into the library.
"The Marquess tells me he saw you last night, my dear," she said. "I hope you liked him."
"Yes," said Celia; "he was very kind."
"Oh, his lordship is kindness itself," said Mrs. Dexter; "and he seems quite interested in you; he is anxious that you should not overwork yourself, and he told me that I was to look after you and see that you went out and took plenty of exercise every day. He's like that; no one could be more kind and considerate to those in his service. ”

“ Gladly! Thankfully!" replied Mrs. Dexter. "How many, many times have I desired to open my heart to you; but dared not. Now, if you have its secret, gained by no purposed act of mine, I will accept the aid and counsel."
"You do not love," said Mrs. De Lisle—not in strong, emphatic utterance—not even calmly—but in a low, almost reluctant voice.
"I am capable of the deepest love," was answered.
"I know it."
"What then?" Mrs. Dexter spoke with some eagerness.
"You are a wife."
"I am," with coldness. ”

“ If ifs bad it'll come out fast enough, and if it's good, leavin' it alone maybe will make it a little better. But here we are,” he continued aloud, “at Dexter's Oak. What's to be done, Miss Dexter, now, and with you, Mr. Joseph? Of course, I'll take you straight to the Inn—as for Miss Dexter—”
“I will get out at once,” said the unhappy woman. “You are sure you can take him to the Inn all right and—and—lift—that is—without—”
“Oh, I guess so,” said the farmer, grimly relapsing into an Americanism that was just beginning to leaven the whole country. ”

“ Miss Dexter herself was the great grand-daughter of an Admiral, and the grand-daughter of a judge, and as such, respected all these accidents of birth which we are supposed to ignore or at least not expected to recognize in a new country. That such men as the Mr. Foxleys could make themselves as completely at home in the Inn as rumor had frequently asserted, and with truth, seemed at all times monstrous to her. ”

“ I've been to hear [Pg 175] such interesting people talk at several houses lately. I go a good deal to Miss Dexter."
"Miss Molly Dexter."
"Yes."
"I wouldn't do that; she's a minx. She is the girl who stayed with that kind little woman, Mrs. Delaport Green, who sometimes comes to see me."
"You see," Mark went on eagerly, "I'm doing no good like this. So I have made up my mind to try and be a Carthusian."
His face lit up now with the same intense delight. "It's such a splendid life! Fancy! No more humbug, and flattery, and insincerity. 'Vous ne jouerez plus la comédie,' an old monk said to me. ”

“ When interested in conversation, a fine enthusiasm always gave to the manners of Mrs. Dexter a charming grace, and to her beautiful countenance a higher beauty. She was almost fascinating. Never had Hendrickson felt her power as he felt it now, while looking into her animated face, and listening to sentiment, description, criticism or anecdote, flowing from her lips in eloquent language, and evincing a degree of taste, discrimination, refinement and observation he could scarcely have imagined in one of her age. ”

“ Dexter, this life was a breathing death. Yet with a wonderful power of endurance and self-control, she moved along her destined way, and none of the people she met in society—nor even her nearest friends—had any suspicion of her real state of mind. As a wife, her sense of honor was keen. From that virtuous poise, her mind had neither variableness nor shadow of turning. No children came with silken wrappings to hide and make softer the bonds that held her to her husband in a union that only death could dissolve ”

“ Cows, and pigs, and poultry, and dish-washing, and scrubbing, and lamps, and starched fronts, and fine gentlemen—but she's well paid, she's well paid. She's to marry one of the fine gentlemen, Mr. Joseph it is, and they're to live on at the Inn with Milly as mistress, and her fine husband behind the bar, very like. Well, good-mornin', Miss Dexter; I wish you joy of the mutton. Me and Woods often says—we'll take this or that little Dexter's Oak, but it's most times forgot, for Woods is 'alf crazed, Miss Dexter, and I've got to do the whole. ”

“ Dexter, grasping the hand of Mrs. De Lisle, "you have lifted me out of a thick atmosphere, through which my eyes saw everything in an uncertain light, up into a clear seeing region. Yes, truth, honor, duty, religion, all speak to my convictions; and with all the truth that in me lieth, will I obey their voice. But love is impossible, and its semblance in me is so faint that my husband cannot see the likeness. There lies the difficulty. He wants a fond, tender, loving wife—a pet and a plaything. ”

“ Among these images were two statues of Dexter himself, one of which held a label with a characteristic inscription. His house was ornamented with minarets, adorned with golden balls, and surmounted by a large gilt eagle. He equipped it with costly furniture, with paintings, and a library. He went so far as to procure the services of a poet laureate, whose business it seems to have been to sing his praises. Surrounded with splendors like these, the plain title of “Mr.” Dexter would have been infinitely too mean and common. ”

“ Dexter advice as to how he should act towards the unhappy woman who had fled from him in her despair. He was rich, good-hearted—as the world goes—honorable, domestic in his feelings and habits; everything, in fact, that society requires in the composition of a good husband. ”

“ The Burgundy had roused him! The good wine stood my friend, and offered me a last chance!
“No story,” I said. “I want to talk to you, Mr. Dexter. I am not in the humor for a story.”
“Not in the humor?” he repeated, with a gleam of the old impish irony showing itself again in his face. “That’s an excuse. I see what it is! You think my invention is gone—and you are not frank enough to confess it. I’ll show you you’re wrong. I’ll show you that Dexter is himself again. Silence, you Ariel, or you shall leave the room! ”

“ Cox's niece, you know.”
An absolutely death-like stillness prevailed in the waggon. The Kentucky team jogged on. The stars shone down on poor Mr. Joseph turning up his sightless orbs to their beauty and majesty, and on the passion of grief and remorse that now surged in Miss Dexter's suffering breast.
“It may be vanity,” thought Farmer Wise as the bridge and the river and Dexter's Oak came in sight one after the other, “it may be vanity, though I'm too old a man to be much given to that, but I can't help thinkin' I'm a wiser man than I was yesterday by a good lot. ”

“ Dexter. The aspect of her own was not just what the young man had expected to see. He did not look upon a countenance blushing in sweet confusion; nor into eyes radiant with loving glances; but upon a pale face, and eyes whose meanings were a mystery. Slowly, yet persistently, did she withdraw her hand from his clasp, while slowly her form arose, until it gained an erect position.
"You have taken me off my guard, Mr. Dexter," she said, a tremor running through her voice.
"Say not a word, Jessie! say not a word! I am only too happy to have taken your heart captive. ”

“ Dexter. "It is the portrait of the Marquess's brother—his elder brother. He was very wild, and caused the family much trouble. He is dead, of course, or he would have been the marquess instead of his present lordship."
"He is very handsome," said Celia. "I suppose that is why one feels so sorry for him."
She moved away from the picture as she spoke; but presently, as if drawn by it, she returned to it.
"The picture interests you?" said Mrs. Dexter, with a smile. "That is always the way with us women, my dear. It is always the wild and wicked men who attract us." ”

“ Dexter thought, and then answered—
"She thinks that men and women are born partners, and that only they who are fortunate enough to meet are ever happy in marriage—are, in fact, really married."
"How is a woman to know that she is rightly mated?" asked Mrs. De Lisle.
"By the law of affinities. The instincts of our nature are never at fault."
"So the thief who steals your watch will say the instincts of his nature all prompted to the act. If our lives were orderly as in the beginning, Mrs. Dexter, we might safely follow the soul's unerring instincts. ”

“ In the evening she would have to go to Lady Dexter's 'crush,' which was being given in her special honour. She determined she would lie down and rest till it was time to dress. But just as she turned towards her bed a sharp pain ran through her body, as though a knife had been plunged into her heart,—a black cloud loomed before her eyes, and she fell forward in a dead swoon. Emily, the maid, who was fortunately in the adjoining dressing-room, heard her fall, and rushed at once to her assistance. ”

“ See what power will be put into your hands! You might labor all your life, and not accomplish one-hundredth part of that which, as Gregory Dexter's wife, you could do in one day.
"As to your probable objection—the boy-and-girl engagement in which you were foolish enough to entangle yourself—I will simply say, leave it to time; it will break itself. How do you know that it is not, in fact, broken already? The Pronando blood is faithless in its very essence," added the old woman, bitterly. "Mr. Dexter is a man of the world. ”

“ No one was there but her husband. He looked grave to sadness. She looked at him a single moment, then shut her eyes and turned her face away. Mr. Dexter neither moved nor spoke. A more wretched man was scarcely in existence. He believed all against his wife that his words expressed; yet was he conscious of unpardonable indiscretion—and he was deeply troubled as to the consequences of his act. Mrs. Dexter was fully restored to consciousness, and remembered distinctly, the blasting intimations of her husband. But, she was wholly free from excitement, and was thinking calmly. ”

“ Then, as I heard nothing of the shouts which yet deafened me, and durst not so much as raise my eyes, the cheery alderman’s voice cried:
“So Master Dexter hath won the high jump. See if he also win the broad. Clear away there, and stand back, good people, to give our brave lads fair play.”
When I took courage at last to look up, I saw a sight which made the blood in my veins tingle.
She stood still where she was; but next to her had squeezed himself a smirking gallant, bravely bedizened, who looked round impudently into her face, and whispered something in her ear. ”

“ The novel bears the unmistakable imprint of genius.... Truth Dexter, the heroine, is one of the most lovable women in fiction—pure, worshipful, worthy and thoroughly womanly—the woman who makes a heaven of earth. ”

“ And as a horse cannot rise if you hold his head down, so, neither, can a man, and Bill was in just this situation.
“Let me up, you young rascals! Let me up! I’ll have the law on you for this! I’ll call the police! What do you mean? Hiram, what’s the game? You asked me here to talk about the treasure—you said you might divide it, and now—stop! stop!” yelled Jolly Bill.
And well might he yell “stop!” for he felt many hands fumbling at his wooden leg. Hands were unbuckling the straps that held the wooden limbs to his stump. And Hiram’s hands were among these.
“Stop! Stop!” angrily cried Bill. ”

“ Dexter married Jessie the day before he opened his flag-shop. She had long been employed by his employer, and when she promised to be his, she drew her earnings from the bank, and invested all with him. This was not prudence, certainly, but it was love. Dexter might have failed in business the first year,—might have died, you know, in six months, or even in three, as men do sometimes. It was not prudence; but Jessie—young lady determined on settlements!—Jessie was looking for life and prosperity, as the honest and earnest and young have a right to look in a world God created and governs. ”