Norine

“ And so the sleigh was brought round, and at ten o'clock in the crisp, yellow sunshine, the pair started.
But it must have been a much duller spirit than that of Norine that could have remained dull in that dazzling sunshine, that swift rush through the still frozen air. A lovely rose-pink came into her pale cheeks, a bright light into her brown eyes, her laugh rang out, she was herself as he had first known her once more.
"How splendid winter is, after all!" she exclaimed; "look at those crystallized hemlocks—did you ever see anything so beautiful? ”

“ The city street, the gaping, curious crowd around her faded away, and there arose before Norine a far different and never-to-be-forgotten picture—a desolate autumn evening; a gray, complaining sea, creeping up on its gray sands, a low, fast-drifting sky lying over it, and on the shore a girl standing, reading a few brief lines in Laurence Thorndyke's writing—lines that branded her as a thing of sin and shame for life—that broke her heart as she read. And now—her enemy lay here at her mercy. Why should she lift a finger to save him? Why not let him go to the hospital and take his chance? ”

“ To sit there listening to Aunt Hester chirping and Uncle Reuben prosing, and see the blue eyes making love, in eloquent silence, to the black ones, was almost too much for human nature to endure. She sat there silent, shy, all unlike the bright, chattering Norine of the summer gone, but with, oh! such an infinitely happy face! She sat beside Laurence Thorndyke—she ministered to that convalescent appetite of his, and that was enough. ”

“ At the parlor-window of Sea View Cottage, Norine stands looking wistfully, wearily out. Three weeks have passed since her husband left her—it is seven weeks altogether since the memorable night of her elopement. These last three, lonely weeks have wrought their sad, inevitable change. The small face has grown smaller the large dark eyes seem unnaturally large for the wan face. A sad, patient light fills them. The slight form has grown fragile, the hands that hang loosely clasped before her are almost transparent. ”

“ CHAPTER XIII. MR. LISTON'S STORY
nother autumnal twilight, ghostly and gray is creeping over the Chelsea shore. In her pleasant chamber in the Chelsea cottage, Norine lies on her white bed and looks out upon it. Looks out, but sees nothing. The dark, burning, brilliant eyes might be stone blind for all they see of the windy, fast drifting sky, of the strip of wet and slippery sands, of the white-capped sea beyond. ”

“ Dread of her approaching marriage, maiden timidity, or worst of all—was the thought of another man haunting her still?
Tea time came and was a relief; after tea, Mr. Gilbert proposed a walk. Norine took her hat passively, and went out with him into the hushed and placid twilight. The pale primrose light was fading out of the western sky, and a rising wind was tossing the arms of the hemlocks where she stood with another lover last night. ”

“ Traces of Norine were everywhere; the piano in a corner, the centre-table littered with books, papers, magazines and scraps of needle-work, the two canaries singing in the sunny windows, all spoke of taste, and girlhood. There were white muslin curtains, crocheted tidies on every chair in the room, a lounge, covered with cretonne in a high state of glaze and gaudy coloring, and the scent of the hay fields and the lilacs over all. No fifth-avenue drawing-room, no satin-hung silver-gilt reception-room, had ever looked one half so exquisite in this metropolitan gentleman's professional eyes. ”

“ There is no forgiveness needed, Norine. I admire your truthful and plain-spoken spirit. Only you see I thought Norine Bourdon a loving, gentle, forgiving little soul, who cared for me so much that she was ready to forgive me seventy-times-seven, and I find, according to her own showing, she is a strong-minded woman, ready to wreak vengeance for the first wrong done her—ready for love or hatred at a moment's notice. It is well you told me—it is always best to understand one another. ”

“ Norine's bright voice called, "you know everything. Come and tell me what is this botanical specimen I have found growing here in the cleft of the rocks."
She held up a spray of blue blossom. Laurence looked at it languidly.
"I know everything, I admit, but I don't know that. If you had married old Gilbert now, my darling, your thirst for information might have been quenched. There isn't anything, from the laws of the nations down to the name of every weed that grows, he hasn't at his learned legal finger ends. Oh, Lord, Norry, what a long day this has been—fifty-eight hours if one." ”

“ How pale she was, and the large dark eyes she lifted were full of a child's startled terror.
"Norine," he abruptly began, "there is no help for it—I must go to New York to-morrow."
Her lips trembled a little.
"To-morrow," she repeated, under her breath—-"so soon!"
"Rather short notice, I admit, but then you see it—it isn't for a lifetime. All husbands and wives part once in a while and survive it. Come, Norine," with irritated impatience, "don't wear that woe-begone face! I'm not to blame, I can't help it. You don't suppose I want to leave you. But here's Liston—my uncle's man. ”

“ A second more, and again Miss Hester Kent was shrilly to be heard.
"Land of hope! whatever ails you. Norry? You are whiter than the dead. Oh, I know how it will be after to-night—you'll be laid up for a week."
He heard the house door close. Then he was alone with the rustling trees, and the bright, countless stars. As he stepped out into the crystal radiance, his face shone with exultant delight—alas! for Norine! not with happy love.
"I knew it!" he thought to himself in his triumph; "I knew I could take her from him at the very church door. Now, Richard Gilbert! ”

“ Helen!"
He dropped Norine's hands and staggered back. For a moment he almost thought it her ghost, so white, so ghastly with concentrated passion was she. She advanced,—she tried to speak—at first the words died huskily away upon her dry lips.
"I have heard every word," she panted. "You coward! You basest of all base cowards. Though I live for a hundred years, these are the last words I shall ever speak to you. Living or dying I will never forgive you—living or dying I will never look upon your face again! Norine!" ”

“ Liston, pale of face, soft of step, furtive of glance, appeared on the scene. Still clasping the drooping form of the outraged wife, Norine moved towards the inner room.
Thorndyke had stood quite still, his arms folded, listening to all. The game was up! A devil of fury, of disappointment, would possess him by-and-by—just now he only felt half-stunned. He turned to the door, with a harsh laugh.
"I have heard of men who murdered the women they loved, and wondered at them. I wonder no longer. By Heaven, if I had a pistol to-night you would never leave this room alive, Norine Bourdon!" ”

“ She stands looking, with that white change in her face, over the sunny sea.
"Come, Norine!" he exclaims, impatiently, "you're not going to be a baby, I hope. If you love me, as you say you do—" She turns and looks at him, and he alters the phrase suddenly, with an uneasy laugh. "Well, since you love me so well, Norry, you must try and have a little common sense. Common sense and pretty girls are incompatible, I know; but really, my dear child, you can't expect that our whole lives are to be spent billing and cooing here. ”

“ Norine replied, smiling. "I am not at all clever in any way. I only wish I could write stories and earn money as you do."
"Yes, it's very nice and handy," said the younger Miss Waddle, "when you're not 'respectfully declined.' I have been 'respectfully declined' oftener than I like to think of. But I am going to make a hit this time, if I die for it."
"Yes," said Norine, gazing in respectful awe at the smeary looking pile of writing; "what do you call it?"
"This," said the authoress, slapping her hand on the heap, "is my first novel, to run in serial form in the Flag of the Free. ”

“ We ought to think of nothing but the Lord's goodness in giving her such a man as Mr. Gilbert for a husband."
So it was settled. When Norine came back from her walk, Aunt Hetty kissed her, shook hands with the lawyer, and the betrothal was quietly over. There was no scene, and no tears, but the good wishes for both, were none the less heartfelt for that.
The day after to-morrow came. Mr. Gilbert went, and the preparations for the wedding began. Norine's "setting out" was to be on a scale of unprecedented magnificence. Uncle Reuben had money, and did not grudge spending it. ”

“ The pale face that looks gloomily out at the fast drifting sky, at the fast-fading light, is smileless and sober as all the rest. And yet it is a youthful face, a beautiful face, a face that six months ago bloomed with a childish brightness and bloom, the face of Norine Bourdon. ”

“ What else is needed to win any woman's heart? And hers is his, for good or for evil, for ever and ever. He is the Prince Charming of her fairy tale, and she has caught his wandering, artist fancy, as scores have caught it before. And when I tell her the truth, that his plighted wife awaits him, what then? Little Norine! to think that you should fall into the power of Laurence Thorndyke. ”

“ Uncle Reuben was there, and Mr. Gilbert remained with him until Aunt Hetty's voice was heard calling them to supper. The lawyer was standing in the doorway, watching the solemn stars come out, a great silent gravity on his face. But oh, so happy, too—so deeply, unutterably happy.
The supper table was spread, lamp-light beamed, firelight glowed, and Aunt Hetty awaited them impatient, lest her warm milk biscuits and sugared "flap-jacks" should grow cold.
Norine stood leaning against the mantel, looking dreamily into the red fire. How pale she was, how strangely grave and thoughtful. ”

“ Then came winter—the first fall of snow—the first gay sleighing. Little Laurie was wild with delight—even Helen's pale lips learned to smile. Kent Hill was working a transformation.
Christmas drew near, and among Norine's pleasant duties came that of decorating Mr. Gilbert's room, the old guest chamber, where he had spent so many happy, hopeful nights in the time when he had loved her. He despised her now. Ah, what a wretch she had been! He would despise her always. ”

“ With a little fluttering sigh Norine obeyed, clinging close to her hero's side in the darkness. [Pg 104]
"But you'll let me write home when we are married, and tell them, Laurence, won't you? They have been so good to me, always—always, and they will think, oh yes, they will think such dreadful things of me now."
"They will forget and forgive, never fear, Norry. People always come round when they can't do anything else. ”

“ She shrinks from the task. She has grown strangely old and wise in these four months; she knows something of the world—something of what it must be like to be adrift in New York, friendless and penniless, with only eighteen years and a fair face for one's dangerous dower. Friendless she will be; for in leaving she will deeply irritate Mr. Darcy, deeply anger Mr. Liston, and in all the world, it seems to Norine, there are only those two she can call friends. ”

“ The crowd was near at hand now. There came the scuffling of feet and murmur of many voices. Esteban fell silent, he closed his hot, bony hands upon Norine's wrists in a painful grip. He bent forward, his soul centered in his tortured eyes.
There came a shadow, then in the doorway the figure of a man, a tattered scarecrow of a man whose feet were bare and whose brown calves were exposed through flapping rags. His breast was naked where thorns had tried to stay him; his beard, even his hair, were matted and unkempt, and the mud of many trails lay caked upon his garments.
It was O'Reilly! ”

“ With that smile still on her lips she turns slowly round, lifting up her eyes. And with a gasping sound that is neither word nor cry, Laurence Thorndyke stands face to face once more with Norine.
[Pg 196]
CHAPTER XIX. "WHOM THE GODS WISH TO DESTROY THEY FIRST MAKE MAD."
orine! And like this, after four years, these two meet again.
Norine! His lips shape the word, but no sound follows. He stands before her destitute of all power to speak or move. Lost in a trance of wonder, he remains looking down upon the fair, smiling, upturned face, utterly confounded. ”

“ You have learned my feelings, and perhaps think in this way to make me well. Is that it?"
"No, no! I'm thoroughly selfish and must have what I want. I want you. So don't let's argue about it." Norine tenderly enfolded the weak figure in her arms, "You must, you SHALL get well or—I shall die, too."
"I haven't the strength to refuse," Esteban murmured. "And yet, how can
I leave Cuba? What right have I to accept happiness and leave Rosa—"
This was a subject which Norine dreaded, a question to which she knew no answer. ”

“ The woman sits and weeps alone by her desolate hearth. The men go forth into the world, and forget their grief for the time in the excitement of the search—the men, who have the best of it always.
All his life long that miserable day remained in Richard Gilbert's memory more as a sickening dream than as a reality. He suffered afterward—horribly—to-day he was too dazed to suffer or feel. Whether found or not, Norine Bourdon was lost to him forever; dumbly he felt that, but she must be found. At all costs, she must be brought back from Laurence Thorndyke. ”

“ Norine's laughter rang out, spontaneous, unaffected. It served to relieve the momentary tension which had sprung up between them.
"All these men are attracted to you, as it is quite natural they should be," O'Reilly hurried on. "I'm worried to death for fear you'll forget that you're too blamed good for any of them."
"What a conscientious duenna you are!" she told him, "but rest easy; I'm thoroughly homesick, and ready to flunk it all at the first good excuse. I'll make you a promise, Johnnie. If I decide to fall in love with any of these ragged heroes I'll choose you. ”