Miss Dexie Part 23

"Oh! I suppose so," was her indifferent reply, "but we could easily have bought something when we felt hungry. I hope, Elsie, that you do not think we are going into a wilderness where people live on gra.s.s roots!" and she coolly leaned back in her seat, rearranged the pretty tie at her throat, then pulled a book from the strap, as if ready for the perusal of it when Hugh would be kind enough to relieve them of his presence.

But Hugh was not to be dismissed by hints. Taking the seat by Elsie's side, and opposite Dexie, he said: "Still, I am sure you would have felt sorry to have forgotten it; you know it is the last home-cooking you will eat for some time, Elsie."

Whereupon Elsie's lip began to quiver, and a suspicion of moisture to appear in her eyes; a word more of home matters would cause the drops to fall into the handkerchief that Elsie was already pulling out of her pocket, in readiness to catch the coming shower. Dexie could have boxed Hugh's ears with a good grace, but she refrained.

"Don't be a goose, Elsie," was her flattering remark. "Just as if no one else in the country could make a decent cake but your Susan! Don't, for goodness' sake, get sentimental over eatables just because Mr. McNeil happens to be struck that way."

The tears forgot to fall, the handkerchief was left in a crumpled heap, hanging half out of her pocket; and as soon as the lump that was in her throat could be disposed of, Elsie ventured meekly to remark that she "was sure Lancy would be late if he did not hurry in."

This recalled Hugh to the fact that unless he made good use of the few remaining minutes, his words to Dexie would be left unsaid; and as Elsie leaned out the window in hopes of seeing Lancy, he bent forward to Dexie, saying in a low voice,

"Say that you forgive me, Dexie, before you go. I was wild with pain at the thought of you leaving me so long with nothing to hope for. I cannot let you go without a word of forgiveness for my hasty words; you know I never meant to do it, Dexie, for I would die to save you from harm."

"Very kind of you, I am sure! but pray do not have any funeral on my account. I feel quite capable of looking after myself, and I hope you will not make it necessary for me to repeat this a.s.sertion in the future. Say no more about forgiveness; the occurrence is too recent for that, but I will try to forget it."

"Dexie, do not speak so cruelly. How can I prove that I love you, and that it was the thought of losing you that drove me to madness! You can't believe that I meant to carry out my murderous threat--no! I cannot think it, when my own heart aches with love and longing for you. If I write to you, Dexie, and lay my heart open before you, surely you will believe me!"

"Do not trouble yourself to write, Mr. McNeil," was the scornful reply. "If you have any heart-trouble, you will find me a poor physician, for I have not the slightest interest in your condition."

"Dexie, are you going to leave me with no kinder remembrance of you than those cruel words? I _must_ write, Dexie; say that you will answer my letter," and a look of entreaty beamed from the dark eyes raised to her face.

"Couldn't think of it! I am going away to enjoy myself, and am not going to bother writing to every Tom, d.i.c.k and Harry, so I'll have to _throw you over_!" and a pair of defiant eyes met his gaze.

Hugh's pa.s.sionate nature was raised to the utmost, but he choked back the words that rose to his lips, and giving her one long, earnest look, said in a hoa.r.s.e voice:

"You repeat my words! May you never have a happy moment until you are as sorry for saying them as I am!" and he rose and left the car, meeting Lancy on the steps.

"Well, Hugh, we are away at last," said Lancy, gaily. "Good-bye, old fellow!"

But Hugh merely raised his eyes and hurried past, and before Elsie knew he had left the car she saw him driving furiously down the road, past cabs and trucks, escaping collision as if by a miracle, and the speed never slacked until he had covered more ground than was necessary to take him home.

"What is the matter with Hugh?" said Lancy, as he seated himself beside his sister. "I do think he might keep his temper occasionally. What has gone wrong, now?" and he looked over at Dexie for his answer.

"I fear I am the wicked person that has gone wrong and as his eloquence prevailed not in turning me from my evil ways he feels heart-sick."

"Heart-sick!" cried Elsie, in surprise; "that would not put him in a temper, surely."

"Love-sick, then," said Dexie, with a smile; "that might account for it."

"Well," said Elsie, in a tone of disgust, "he must be awfully in love with your Gussie, if he can't leave her long enough to drive us to the depot without pining for her," whereupon Dexie forgot her surroundings and burst into such a rippling laugh that Lancy felt forced to join her. The infection spread to their fellow-travellers, and caused a smile to pa.s.s around, although the cause of the merriment was unknown beyond the little group from which it started.

"I fancy I can guess the cause of the trouble," said Lancy. "I daresay Hugh found the parting painful. Am I right?"

Just then the starting-signal sounded, and the train sped away across the country, and our travellers settled down to whatever comfort there is to be obtained in a railroad car.

As soon as Lancy could get a word with Dexie, he asked her again what Hugh had said to her, and she, willing to put his mind at ease, replied:

"He wanted me to promise that I would answer a letter he wished to write to me, and I gave him to understand that I wanted no correspondence with my sister's lover, so we had a few words over it and then parted--_not_ friends, I fear!"

Lancy knew that Hugh was only waiting his opportunity to oust him from his favored position, and it delighted him to hear Dexie speak of him in that strain.

"Thank you, Dexie; I guess Hugh can hear all he needs to know of you second-hand."

Dexie smiled, and she did not pull away her hand when, for a moment, Lancy laid his own shapely one across it. Lancy was her good friend; why should he not feel sure of it? And a warm pressure of the hand goes a great way towards proving friends.h.i.+p, to say nothing of a stronger feeling.

We must go back to Hugh, whom we left driving furiously along the road, his heart full of bitter, angry feelings. He reproached Dexie for her cold, heartless words, and himself for his ungovernable temper. He would give worlds to recall those hasty words spoken on the roof, but it was too late; he doubted if ever Dexie would forgive them. He felt that he could not meet Mrs. Gurney's searching glance while in such a mood, so he kept on, seeing nothing and hearing nothing of what was pa.s.sing around him, his only thought being to get away from human sight until the heat of the battle had somewhat pa.s.sed away.

It was not until some hours later that he made his appearance at Mrs.

Gurney's. She was becoming quite anxious at his long absence, as she wished to hear the latest news of Elsie. Even when Hugh did return, he lingered so long in the stable that she had to send a message to him before he made his appearance.

He felt glad to find her alone in the room; he could not hide his feelings from her, but others need not know of his weakness.

"How did she keep up, Hugh? Is she all right?"

"Elsie, you mean? Oh, yes. I think she is all right. She did not get a chance to fret after she left the house."

"But what detained you? I suppose you stayed to see them off, but the train must have gone hours ago."

"Yes, I know it, Mrs. Gurney; but I--I didn't stay to see them off--I couldn't," he added, seeing her look of surprise. "I'm a fool, I suppose, but I couldn't stand there and see her go away without giving me one kind word, so I drove off down the road until I could hide my folly from others'

eyes. I have driven Bob pretty hard, I'm afraid, but I have rubbed him down well, and he will be the first to recover from this day's work."

He spoke bitterly, but openly, as any loved son might speak to a tender, sympathizing mother, and he had found her all that during the long years he had lived with them; and though her own son had gained, as he thought, the one thing he longed for, he knew she would feel for his disappointment.

"It is Dexie you mean. You do not like her to be going away with Lancy. Is that it, Hugh?"

"Yes, but that is not all. She has treated me so scornfully, while Lancy--." He broke off abruptly, with a gesture that finished the sentence for him.

"But, Hugh, think a minute! Lancy's tastes are similar to her own. How can she help showing the preference, when their very music seems to draw them together? I would not have thought, Hugh, that you would be so willing to give up Gussie as you seem to be. You are not trifling with both girls, I hope, Hugh?"

"No, indeed! You do not understand, and I cannot explain; but Gussie is not what I thought her at first, and Dexie--well, she is so much more. It does not make it easier to bear to know that I have placed a barrier between us with my own hands. Oh, my temper! my hateful temper! it has done me more harm during the last twenty-four hours than during all my life long," and he laid his arms across the table and bent his head upon them.

"Perhaps it is not so, after all; the last burst of temper always looks the worst. Don't you think so, my boy? Forget it for a few moments, and tell me about Elsie. Has she gone off in good spirits?"

"Yes, I believe so, but to tell the truth I had no thought for anyone but Dexie. Elsie will not get a chance to fret, I feel sure, but I wish Dexie felt half as bad about leaving home as _she_ does. It would be a comfort to think about."

"I am quite surprised, Hugh! Surely you can see that Dexie's feelings for you are far from encouraging, and how can you think that two such firebrands--yes, you must excuse the term, if you do not like it, but it suits you both--do you think you two _could_ be happy together? Have you thought of this matter seriously, Hugh? I am afraid not. Yet one should study well the character of the one whom we would choose to walk with along life's road. We all know something of Dexie's temper, for she has not tried to hide even her worst faults from us. With your own high temper, Hugh, it would be a great risk to link your life with hers. There is nothing so beautiful and complete as a happy married life, but there can be nothing so unutterably miserable as an unhappy marriage."

"Well, it may be as you say, and Dexie may not be suitable in some ways for me, but I can never care for anyone else as I care for her. If I could only win her, I would make her so happy that there would never be any cause for her to get angry with me."

But the memory of the words he had spoken on the roof a few short hours before stung him at this moment, and sharply reminded him of his inability to control himself as her lover. Would he be more likely to govern himself as her husband?

Seeing that Mrs. Gurney was regarding him closely, he hastily rose to his feet, saying:

"You are right, Mrs. Gurney, as you always are. I should not succeed in controlling my temper in the future any better than I have done in the past. I will try to overcome this foolishness. I love Dexie Sherwood too well to wish to bring one moment of sorrow into her life."

He left the room and sought his own chamber, and during the hour he sat there in silence he fancied he had buried forever every thought of tender regard for Dexie Sherwood. He even imagined that he could look with favor on Lancy, or anyone else, who would make her as happy as she deserved to be.

His magnanimous feelings were even puffed up to that degree that he was mentally witnessing her marriage ceremony, with Lancy as chief actor, when the sound of the dinner-bell recalled him to his senses. Yet, when he sat down to the table and beheld Lancy's empty seat, he ground his heel into the rug under the table, as if it were his enemy, for the thought occurred that Lancy, at this present moment, might be bending over the head so precious to him, or whispering words in her ears which he never wished her to hear, unless spoken by himself. Truly he did not know himself, and as the nature of his thoughts occurred to him he almost despised himself for his weakness. Surely he needed another grave than that he had dug while in the privacy of his own room; a grave that would keep entombed that which he wished to put forever out of his memory! It was only by bringing up to his mind his own imperfections that he could keep Dexie out of his thoughts.