Part 66 (2/2)
”Oh, Dexie! was it really given to you by a gentleman? Was it Lancy Gurney who sent it?”
”Hardly, Gussie, or some other young lady would have a right to complain,”
smiling at Gussie's look of surprise.
”Then it was Hugh McNeil, as I thought. I always said you would repent your behavior to him. Then I suppose the affair is settled. Where _is_ Hugh, Dexie?”
Dexie did not answer at once, but clasped her hands, palms downward, in that convulsive grasp that always told of some mental struggle. Something of the old terror filled her heart at the very mention of Hugh's name, and her answer was evidently uttered with much reluctance, not unmixed with fear:
”He is probably on his way to New York, Gussie. Is there anything else you would like to know?” forcing a smile to her lips.
Guy felt that something unusual had brought that look of alarm to Dexie's face; he would ask the cause at the first opportunity.
Gussie felt sure that she knew all about it now, so began to twit her sister about ”giving in at last.” She had been in a bad humor all day, and was glad of the chance to get rid of her ill-feelings by teasing Dexie in the presence of Traverse.
”So Hugh's money has bought you, after all! and your high and mighty airs were just put on! I am glad you have come to your senses, for I suppose that ring means a marriage in the future.”
”If the latter admission will keep you quiet and make your mind easy, then you shall hear it. I did accept the ring with the understanding that it meant marriage in the future, but Hugh McNeil is no more to me now than he ever was. Now, if you are satisfied, Gussie, will you be kind enough to leave my affairs alone for the rest of the evening?”
”Hum--m, yes; I'm satisfied, since I know the whole of it! An invisible lover! a ring! a promise of marriage! and Hugh coming back! Oh, yes, I'll leave you alone for the rest of the evening, never fear!” and taking a book from the table she drew an easy chair to the light, then turned her back to the rest in the room. If Guy Traverse was soon to be married to his ”city girl,” and Dexie was going to be Hugh's wife, they could entertain each other, for she would have nothing to say to either of them!
Queer, wasn't it, that neither of them resented this rudeness, but kept up a low conversation at the farthest side of the room!
When Guy was about to leave the house, and the ”few” last words were being said in the hall, he asked what had caused her alarm at the mention of her supposed lover's name.
”I forgot until that very minute that Elsie Gurney told me in her last letter that this McNeil would leave England for New York on the coming steamer, and for the moment my heart stopped beating from sheer fright.”
”But, dearest, he cannot harm you now. Do you think he is coming here?”
”Indeed, I cannot tell, but I fear that is his intention; and if he should, oh, Guy, I believe I should hide! I own to being rather afraid of him, though, luckily for me, he never found it out.”
”But if he knows you are mine, surely, Dexie, he is enough of a gentleman to leave you alone in the future.”
”Well, I may be needlessly alarmed, but I feel a presentiment of evil, and should an ill wind blow him this way, you must be extra good to me while he is here--come oftener--and I will feel safe, at least, while you are with me.”
About two weeks later, when all thought of Hugh McNeil had been dispelled, Dexie's presentiment of evil took shape. He arrived in Lennoxville on the afternoon train, and a few inquiries soon brought him to Mr. Sherwood's residence.
Mrs. Sherwood and Gussie were out making calls that afternoon, and Dexie was busy in the kitchen making some new dainty, and was much interested in watching the result of her work, when Mrs. Jarvis came in search of her.
”Dexie, there is a gentleman in the parlor asking to see you.”
”What a nuisance, when I want to see how this turns out! It is not Mr.
Traverse at this hour, of course,” she added, carelessly.
”No; it is a stranger. He is a large, dark-complexioned man, with a heavy black moustache and beautiful black eyes--a perfect gentleman, Dexie!”
The dish fell from Dexie's hand with a crash to the floor.
”Heaven preserve me! what shall I do?” and she turned pale to her lips. ”I cannot see him, Jarvis; I really cannot! Here, I'll write a line to papa, and you can take the gentleman to his room,” and with trembling fingers she wrote a few words and gave them to the nurse; then, throwing off her big ap.r.o.n, she seized a hat, sayings to Eliza, who looked on in astonishment:
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