Miss Gastonguay

“ 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. ”

“ Before she finished her sentence Aurelia had fainted, and falling forward crashed the inlaid domino table to the floor, and broke a portion of its dainty top.
"Here, Prosperity," called Miss Gastonguay, "some water quick,—and take that table away so she won't see it. Bother the girl, why doesn't she pray and fast less and eat more, so as to keep strength in her body."
In a few minutes Aurelia revived, and in a pitiful, trembling voice apologised for the trouble she had given.
"Fudge and nonsense!" said Miss Gastonguay. "We all have times when if we don't faint we'd like to. ”

“ Miss Gastonguay did not reply. She had been [97] struck with sudden taciturnity, and, throwing down the lines, allowed the pony to guide them to the spot where he chose that they should alight. It happened to be in front of the lowest of the steps leading to the house, and Derrice, observing him narrowly, remarked, "This seems to be an intelligent animal."
"He isn't an animal," said Miss Gastonguay, abruptly, "he is a fairy prince. One day when I was a witch he offended me, and I changed him from a beautiful young man into this shape. ”

“ 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. ”

“ 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?" ”

“ A deathly sickness overpowered her, and she buried her face in her hands. Relentless figures flitted, before her,—Miss Gastonguay grim and inexorable, Derrice agitated and weeping, Justin with a face turned sternly from her. ”

“ 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. ”

“ A hat and a cane were accompanying articles, and went spinning through the air like jugglers' toys.
"Has that quirky captain gone crazy?" exclaimed Miss Gastonguay.
No one spoke but Mrs. White. "If that man is getting kicked," she observed, with deliberation, "and Micah's doing it, he deserves a kicking." ”

“ Captain Veevers and Mr. Huntington drew out their watches. Miss Gastonguay would not believe them until she had had all the clocks in the house consulted. Then she admitted herself mistaken, and asked Justin's pardon.
"You are one of those uncomfortable people," she said, wagging her head at him, "that one always finds in the right. I should hate to live with you—don't you?" and she wheeled suddenly toward Derrice. ”

“ I shall do nothing of the sort."
"Any one who shirks a duty is sure to suffer for it sometime or another," he said, calmly, "but I am not afraid of your forgetting that my wife has an equal claim on you with your niece."
"Well, I shall have a thorny road to travel," said Miss Gastonguay, with unexpected submission. "Chelda will rebel." ”

“ In ten minutes they returned to the dining-room, flushed and happy, and bearing between them a huge platter of smoking hot potatoes with a ring of fried onions around them.
"Who is for onions?" asked Captain White. "Miss Chelda Gastonguay, you must have some. Great beauty-feeders are they. Ugly girls can become pretty by eating onions—"
Miss Gastonguay suppressed a smile. The sharp-eyed captain had discovered Chelda's disdain.
[208]
"Aunt Negus," he rattled on, "don't water that teapot before you pour my cup. I take it stronger than the children." ”

“ 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. ”

“ 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 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. ”

“ 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. ”

“ 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. ”

“ 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? ”

“ 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. ”

“ Miss Gastonguay retraced her steps. The warm [367] beauty of the approaching night had no power to penetrate her soul. The enchanting scene of lawn and garden, stately house and river, was as unattractive to her as a desert would have been. Nothing relieved the unspeakable desolation of her heart; nothing lifted the heavy shadow from her brow.
Chelda, too, was moping. What had come to the girl? and she paused beside the reclining chair in which she had been sitting motionless for two hours.
"Chelda, are you ill?"
"No, aunt, I am not."
"You act ill. Is there anything I can do for you?" ”

“ His mother was tranquilly pleased, Derrice was delighted; for Miss Gastonguay had, since the summer began, shown a perverse inclination to keep to herself, and, although glad to see her at French Cross, had not favoured her with many special invitations.
Captain White was non-committal until urged by his wife to make some response. "Of course I'll go," he then said. "Haven't I been longing for a small picnic all summer? I hate those caravans of things where food and people are all jumbled up together." ”

“ Miss Gastonguay, with her little manly swagger, followed him to the big hall door. "Chelda, that man does not seem happy lately."
"Perhaps he is working too hard."
"He isn't in love with you, is he?" asked Miss Gastonguay, sharply.
[79]
Chelda discreetly lowered her eyes. "I don't know."
"You wouldn't marry him if he were. You are too fond of your own comfort to tie yourself to a poor clergyman."
"You are right, aunt, I shall never marry a clergyman."
"I believe," continued Miss Gastonguay, in a puzzled voice, "that he likes to come to this house. ”

“ A number of white and gold spindle-legged chairs stood in various graceful attitudes about the room; there were but few hangings and draperies, and scarcely a cushion to be seen.
"I hate dust," said Miss Gastonguay, in an explanatory way, "and upholstered furniture and gewgaws all over parlour walls make me ill. The Japanese are the only people who know how to furnish a house. You like this room, don't you?"
"Very much," said Derrice, going up to an aromatic fire of small sticks, burning on a white-tiled hearth. ”

“ One of the Scotchmen quickly ran his spade over a scant grass plot designated by Miss Gastonguay. When the first earth was turned up, the girl sprang to her feet with an agonised cry, "Must I forgive them? Justin, I cannot."
H. Robinson watched her husband trying to comfort her, then crossing his hands behind his back he went for a short turn around the outside of the cemetery. Forgive whom? The man who had hunted her father to death. Poor thing,—she did not know what a villain he had been. Women were unreasonable. ”

“ The last time I saw that man was in California six weeks ago."
"An ill-starred journey. You had better have stayed at home."
"I married that man's daughter, Miss Gastonguay."
She paused for a moment, and caught her breath with a choking sound. Then she exclaimed, indignantly: "Shame to you to perpetuate the breed! Close that window, will you? You young people have your veins full of hot blood. We old ones grow chilly."
Justin obediently closed it, then, reseating himself, gazed at her with a compassion and even a tenderness that her abusive words could neither change nor dissipate. ”

“ 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? ”

“ Flaming cardinal flowers and spikes of blue [351] pickerel weed lay loosely about the white cloth; the hot dishes watched by the cook O'Toole were growing hotter by a leaping fire, yet Miss Gastonguay would not give the signal to serve the meal.
"Hush," she said, at last, "Mrs. Mercer is going to recite to us."
Prosperity and Tribulation demurely seated themselves and listened to the young lady as she drew herself up erect on her heap of cushions, and, with eyes wandering across the river, declaimed in a girlish way Whittier's exquisite lines on the fabled city of the early Maine Voyagers. ”

“ Derrice got up. "Good-bye, Miss Gastonguay, and thank you for a very pleasant afternoon."
[110]
"Tut, tut," and her hostess refused to take the offered hand. "You needn't try to make me think you are anxious to get back to Hippolyta Prymmer. Dinner will be ready in an hour. You'll stay, too, Mr. Huntington?"
The clergyman did not reply. Like one mesmerised he turned to Chelda. A subdued pleasure lighted up her face, and, murmuring, "Of course he will," she followed her aunt and Derrice down the staircase. ”