Chapter 35

Among the many social gatherings which the "Sherwood twins" attended were the weekly meetings of the Temperance and Benevolent Society, or the "T. and B.," as it was usually styled.

This society included among its members most of the young people connected with the best families in the town.

It was not so aggressive in the temperance cause as some of the other existing societies, but it had its place, as its ever-increasing membership clearly showed. It accepted no one as a member who had at any time been addicted to the use of liquor, and it kept many young men from falling into the pernicious habit of using intoxicants.

Among the number who had lately signed their names to the constitution of the society was Guy Traverse, the young manager of a large furniture establishment in the town. He had but recently been appointed to the position, but his pleasant, affable manners won him friends from all quarters.

He was quite an acquisition to the T. and B. Society: a fine reader, a good declaimer, witty and quick at repartee, the Social Committee of the society soon learned his value, and a smile of welcome greeted him wherever he made his appearance.

Being on the Social Committee, Dexie Sherwood was frequently thrown into his society, but by some mistake or unintentional oversight they had never been introduced, and there was something in Dexie's manner that forbade him to make any advances without this formal introduction.

As it was taken for granted that all the members had been duly presented to each other, no one gave the matter a thought, and though the committee held several meetings, at which both were present, no one noticed the fact that these two were the only ones who did not exchange ideas on the matters before them.

One evening after the usual business matters were disposed of, the society proceeded to elect new officers for the ensuing quarter, and Guy Traverse's popularity was sufficient to place him in the highest office in the gift of the society. When asked if he would like to name his own assistant, he turned to the speaker and smilingly replied:

"I would be happy to have the assistance of the society's organist, but as we have not yet been introduced, perhaps she would prefer that I did not give her name."

"What! do you mean to say that you have never been presented to Miss Sherwood! How did that happen? Come with me at once." There was much merriment over the long delayed introduction, and Dexie smilingly consented to accept the office of assistant, in addition to that of organist. This gave Guy Traverse the chance he had long been looking for, and at the close of the meeting he offered himself as her escort home.

This Dexie politely declined, adding in her kindest tone,

"Our house is just at the corner, Mr. Traverse, so I will not trouble you," and she slipped away.

The distance was short, for as Guy stood at the outer entrance of the T. and B. rooms he could hear the front gate shut after her, yet he would have enjoyed even that short walk with his fair assistant.

"She is not inclined to be friendly, it seems," he soliloquized, as he stroked his long silken moustache. "I must find out the reason."

The next time opportunity offered he again asked permission to escort her home, but again his offer was so pleasantly declined that he could not feel offended, though it put him upon his mettle. He determined to overcome her prejudice, or whatever it was that made her treat him with so much reserve. As he turned to go home, Gussie came down the steps, and with his hand to his hat he said, smilingly,

"I almost fear to risk a second refusal to-night, Miss Sherwood, but will you accept the escort that your sister has declined?"

It was a blow to her pride that Dexie had been asked first, but such an eligible young man could not be snubbed on that account, so Gussie smiled her sweetest as she walked by his side.

"Have I done anything to displease your sister?" he asked, as they stood a few moments at the gate. "I find her very hard to get acquainted with, though I can readily see that it is not her nature to be unfriendly."

"You have not offended her, of that I am sure," Gussie replied.

"Then you think she had no particular reason for refusing my company to-night?"

"She may have some objection to any company, but not yours in particular." "Has someone else a prior claim?" he smilingly asked. "Believe me, Miss Sherwood," he added, in an apologetic tone, "I am not asking out of curiosity alone."

Gussie believed there was someone else, for Dexie had a gentleman correspondent.

"Then she is engaged, I suppose, but if the fortunate man is absent she might allow others the pleasure of her company occasionally."

But the opportunity of meeting Dexie at his own pleasure came with an introduction to Mr. Sherwood, and on learning that Mr. Traverse was a good hand at chess (Mr. Sherwood's one weakness) he was made right welcome and became a frequent visitor.

Mr. Sherwood's residence was so centrally situated that the young people of both sexes found it very convenient to drop in for a few minutes on their way up or down town. Mr. Sherwood loved to see the rooms filled with laughing faces, and encouraged this free-and-easy intercourse, and he looked forward to the evening's pleasure with the ardor of a young man. When Guy Traverse made his appearance he was sure of a hearty greeting, and the weeks flew by very pleasantly until summer was ushered in, and still there was little seeming difference in Dexie's attitude toward her father's friend.

One evening as a number of young ladies were assembled in the pleasant rooms of the T. and B. Society, discussing a coming convention, the society's Vice-President, Miss Edith Wolcott, said in decided tones:

"Before this convention meets, we ought to make some new badges; these are positively disgraceful! Will someone suggest something, or must I take the responsibility of seeing that this society has decent and respectable tokens of membership?"

"There can be but one opinion where the badges are concerned," said Ada Chester, smiling, "so let us draw from the funds of the society sufficient money to purchase the material for new ones, then we can meet somewhere and make them up."

"Capital legislation! Now announce the place of meeting and the matter is settled," and Frank Fenerty joined the group around the table. "Better set the time and place of meeting without delay, for when you ladies begin to realize the amount of work which the making of these badges involves, you will each and all remember that you have a pressing engagement somewhere else."

"That's so," said George Linton, as he drew a chair beside his friend; "but where's Traverse? As President of this society he ought to take the ladies at their word, and set them to work before their ardor has time to cool."

"There is not a house in town so convenient for all as the Sherwoods," said Ada Chester; then turning to Gussie she asked:

"Could we go to your house to make up the badges, Miss Sherwood?"

"Certainly; that is, I think so. Dexie is the acting manager at home, so you had better consult with her," replied Gussie, pleasantly.

"Come here, Dexie," and Edith turned to where Dexie was evoking sweet music from the organ. "May we go to your house to make the badges?"

"That depends on what night you wish to come. If to-morrow evening is too soon to appoint for the meeting, you could come Saturday. You know I have to be at the church on Friday evening."

"To be sure! I forgot about the meeting, and there is to be choir practice afterwards, so I'm engaged for Friday evening as well. How shall we arrange it?" and Edith looked inquiringly around the group.

"Put it to vote," and Frank Fenerty rose to his feet. "Hands up now for to-morrow night at Miss Sherwood's--or not there at all, is that it?"

"No," Dexie laughingly replied; "our latch-string is out every night, but neither Gussie nor I would be at home Friday evening."

"What is to prevent us from accepting Miss Sherwood's invitation for Thursday. I would rather go there than any other place in town," said the truthful fellow, having long admired Gussie from afar.

"We have to buy the material before we can meet to make it up," Edith replied. "Great Scott! how much material do you want to buy anyhow," said Fenerty. "I could buy out a store while you ladies were selecting the ribbons for your neck."

While they were speaking, Mr. Traverse made his appearance, and learning the cause of the discussion, presented a cheque for the amount needed to renew the badges, and volunteered his services as "needle-threader" for the evening.

"Come now, Traverse, you can't thread needles for the crowd," said Fred Foster, "but if the ladies will only invite the male members, we will promise to keep them supplied with threaded needles, _ad infinitum_."

"Have you decided to come to our house Thursday? If so, all members of the T. and B. are invited, but we will keep you gentlemen up to your promise in regard to the needle-threading, so let no one imagine he can come and shirk his duty," and the group separated.

The next evening the parlor of the Sherwoods presented a busy scene. Several small tables placed about the room were surrounded by groups, whose nimble fingers cut and sewed the bunches of ribbon that were provided; and as there were several "needle-threaders" for every group, there seemed no reason why the work should not progress with the greatest of despatch. The ever-increasing pile of finished badges which appeared on the several tables gave evidence that their fingers were as nimble as their tongues, and amusement and work were intermingled.

Amidst the fun and merriment that was taking place in the room, Dexie's abstracted and absent-minded manner was not noticed, except by one pair of eyes--and very little that concerned Dexie Sherwood escaped the notice of Guy Traverse.

He was finding it hard to check the feelings with which he had long regarded her, for he had become attached to her from the very first, and his eyes were keen to note her varying moods. His frequent visits to the house gave him opportunity to study her character, and the more he saw of her, the higher grew his respect. A more tender feeling also was growing within his breast, that gave him secret pleasure, though he kept well in check any sign of its existence. He never had found the opportunity of asking the truth of her engagement; but being assured that she had a gentleman correspondent, he felt he had little cause to hope. He had been present on more than one occasion when Dexie had discussed with the rest of the family various extracts from letters which had come from over the sea. To be sure, these extracts were mostly descriptions of places that the writer had visited, or accounts of amusing episodes met with while travelling; but there lingered an undefined impression on Guy Traverse's mind that these letters were not so sacred as one would naturally suppose they should be if the writer were dear to the heart of the recipient.

"Something is troubling Dexie to-night," he said to himself, as he noticed how unusually silent and preoccupied she remained, even when the merriment seemed at its height. "I must be on the alert and see that she is not troubled unnecessarily," for being a frequent visitor, he was aware that Gussie was not always the pleasant person she appeared to be, and he, somehow, connected her with Dexie's present mood.

But in this case he was mistaken. The evening mail had brought Dexie a letter from Hugh McNeil. She had heard so little of him for some time that she began to hope (when she thought of him at all) that he had forgotten her or had found other attractions that had effaced her from his memory. But this unlooked-for letter told a different story, and his half-expressed determination to seek her presence and renew his suit filled her with dismay.

She had thrust the letter hastily into her pocket with but a rapid glance at its contents, just as her numerous guests were ushered in; and her time had been so engrossed that the letter itself was forgotten, though the memory of the eager, passionate words therein was bringing up all the unpleasant scenes that had happened in Halifax in connection with Hugh.

During the evening she had, with the help of the cook, set out a dainty repast in the dining-room, and as she made her way into the parlor again to invite the guests to come and partake of it, she wondered at the sound that reached her ears, for instead of the hum of many voices one voice alone was heard, and that was Gussie's.

Now, for some time back the frequent visits of Guy Traverse had aroused suspicions in Gussie's mind. They certainly were not always intended for her father, and he never offered himself as her escort unless Dexie was in her company. She had repeatedly hinted that Dexie was "already spoken for," but the hint was not acted on in the way Gussie expected. Remembering all this, Gussie's conduct this particular evening is seen in its true light, but it brought its own punishment.

In some unaccountable way, Hugh's letter had dropped from Dexie's pocket while she sat sewing at the badges with the rest, and in searching for a spool of thread, it fell into Gussie's hands. She glanced over the letter, but did not notice the signature. Hugh had been thinking more of touching Dexie's heart than of giving his letter the usual appearance, and had left place, date and all tell-tale marks to find room at the bottom of the closely-written sheet. Gussie guessed at once it was Dexie's letter, and thought it would be "fun" to read it before those assembled; it would let Guy Traverse know that he was wasting his time over Dexie. No one in the room had the least idea what she meant when she rose from her chair and said:

"Oh! friends, listen! here is a specimen of true love for you!"

"My dearest love, my heart's one treasure:

"It is no longer any use to try and put you out of my heart. I have tried to do it as you wished, but I cannot. I love you, my darling, and my love will not die, try as I may to kill it. You thought I could forget you if I went among fresh scenes and new faces; but it is not so--your dear face is ever before me. Sleeping or waking, it is the same. I cannot live without you, my dearest--"

"Augusta! Augusta! what are you doing? Is that your own letter you are making public?"

The words cut the air like a flash of steel.

That word "Augusta" was reproof in itself, and Gussie felt it instantly, and she shivered as she looked up and met the flashing eyes of her sister.

"No," she replied, her cheeks aflame, but angry spite dies hard, and she smiled scornfully, as she added, "I was amusing the company with a specimen of love-making that is rare outside of novels. It is your letter, I believe."

Before Dexie could reply, Guy Traverse had risen to his feet, and coming towards the table so that his form partly shielded Dexie from view, said:

"If you have read all you wish of my letter, Miss Gussie, I beg you will return it to me," and he took it from her hand and thrust it into his breast-pocket; then turning a woeful face to the astonished guests, he said:

"Friends, have mercy on a fellow when he is down, and forget what you heard just now. It was too bad of you, Miss Gussie, to expose a poor fellow's feelings in that way. I ought to have posted my broken-hearted appeal before I came in here, but I thought I might be able to think of some stronger language that would touch the hard heart of my lady-love. I am not in luck, as you can guess; but do not, I beg of you, let it go any farther. I appeal to you, as members of T. and B., to keep this matter quiet and not let it be talked about. Boys, you know how it is yourselves," and in seeming embarrassment he turned to the window and remained in the shadow of the curtain.

"Oh! I beg your pardon, Mr. Traverse," Gussie gasped out, properly ashamed for once. "I never imagined the letter was yours," and hiding her burning cheeks in her hands she hurriedly left the room and flew to her chamber, wondering how she could ever look those people again in the face.

Traverse had given Dexie time to recover herself, and in a steadier voice than she could have commanded a few moments before, she asked the friends to drop their work, and come into the next room for refreshments.

This was a welcome interruption to all; everyone felt glad to hide the uncomfortable feeling that Gussie's act had thrown over them, and merry groups formed in the dining-room as Dexie passed among them. The uncomfortable scene in the parlor was put out of sight, if not out of mind, and no one wondered that Guy Traverse did not make his appearance amongst them.

As soon as Dexie saw she would not be missed for a few moments, she ran up to Gussie's room.

"Come down at once, Gussie. You cannot stay away from our guests without making yourself look worse in their eyes. The sooner you make amends for your unpardonable act, the better it will be for yourself."

"Oh! Dexie, I was never so ashamed in my life! I never dreamt it was his letter; I thought it was yours."

"And what business would you have to read out anybody's letter to a company of people? I am glad to hear that you feel ashamed, for well you may! Come downstairs at once, unless you want everyone to cut you forever."

Gussie followed her sister into the dining-room, and she set about her duties as well as she could, but finding that Traverse was not in the room she soon felt more at ease.

Dexie felt that she must see Mr. Traverse before the rest entered the parlor. She had been so astonished at his bold claim of ownership that for a moment she could not understand it, but the truth flashed on her mind that he had done it to shield her, and she blessed him for it.

Guy looked round as the door opened, and coming forward he took the tray she carried in her hands and set it on a small table near, saying:

"Is this for both of us, Miss Dexie? Sit here," and he placed a screen to hide them from the gaze of intruders; then coming over to her side, drew the letter from his pocket, saying: "Forgive me, Miss Dexie, for claiming your property; it is yours, is it not?"

"Unfortunately, yes; and you were more than kind to shield me as you did," and she put the cause of the trouble in the deepest corner of her pocket. "I did not know what to do when I heard Gussie reading it aloud."

"I knew at once it was yours by the way you looked; but I thought I would play the vanquished lover, and crave your pardon for my audacity afterwards," and he looked intently into Dexie's flushed face.

"Believe me, Mr. Traverse, the writer of that letter is not the silly man one would expect, judging by his foolish words. In everything else he is worthy of respect."

"Do you think it foolish for a man to love a woman with such love as he speaks of in the letter?"

"Yes; when the man knows it is useless, he should try and forget her."

"He should try--hum!--well, it seems one does not always succeed in forgetting, even with much trying. Miss Dexie, you owe me a favor; tell me honestly how you stand with this lover from over the sea. Are you engaged to be married to him, yet give him cause to write in such a strain?"

"No, certainly not; I am aware that this letter has given you the impression that I have been corresponding with the writer, but it is not so. This is only the second time I have had a letter from him, though I believe papa hears from him occasionally; but I have never sent him a line."

"How does it happen that he writes to you so appealingly? Have you jilted him, Miss Dexie?" and he looked eagerly into her face, to read her answer. "Will you not tell me?" he added, as he waited some moments for her reply.

"There is very little to tell, Mr. Traverse. I think the part of the letter that you heard tells the story well enough," and she gave a quick look into his face, "but I think I understand what you mean. This is not the one that Gussie refers to so often."

"Miss Dexie, if I have spared your feelings to-night, spare mine now, and tell me what I ask: Is there more than one lover across the sea? Do tell me the truth, Miss Dexie."

His low, earnest tones thrilled her strangely, and she dropped her eyes, as she replied in a low tone:

"Let me first explain about the writer of the letter. I never gave him cause to write to me like that, for I have always disliked him. He has persecuted me shamefully, even so far as to threaten to shoot me if I did not promise to marry him, and the strongest wish that was ever born in my heart is that I may never see his face again." The words ended in a whisper, but so intense were the tones that Guy felt she told the truth, and he asked: "What sort of a young man is he, if I may ask?"

"If he had not made himself an object of dislike to me, I could give you a very favorable account of him," she answered, lifting her eyes an instant, then turning aside as she met his earnest looks. "He is well educated and very good-looking, if you admire the kind of beauty that goes with olive skin, eyes like midnight, and hair to correspond. He has a good bank account also, and would be a good match--for someone else," she added, laughing softly.

"Did your father favor his suit, that they correspond yet?"

"Oh! yes; and everything was arranged, settlements, and all. Nothing was lacking--except my consent."

"Then there was never a promise between you? Forgive me, Miss Dexie, if I seem inquisitive, but I wish very much to know."

"Nothing like a promise! indeed, nothing could be so distasteful as the thought of such a thing; not even from the first. I never liked him."

"But there is someone else, Miss Dexie. Is there not a promise given to someone else?" came the eager tones.

"Not exactly a promise, Mr. Traverse; but there is a mutual understanding that may lead to one. I think you would like my friend, particularly if you heard him once at the piano," she replied, as her cheeks grew pink.

"Then you are not really engaged, Miss Dexie?"

"Now, Mr. Traverse, I think I have told you enough," she replied, beginning to feel embarrassed. "Some things are not easy to tell, even though one may not care if the facts are known."

"But I have not got down to facts yet, Miss Dexie, and I should like to know the truth. 'For favors received, be truly grateful.' I think it is only fair to let me know how matters stand with you and this lover over the sea."

He waited a moment for her answer, then added, in an eager tone:

"Your sister told me several times about your engagement to this young gentleman that writes to you from England. If it is so, why deny it?"

"There is a promise between us to wait a year," came the low-spoken reply. "Then, if we are both of the same mind as when we saw each other last, I expect I shall spend the rest of my days in Halifax; but a year is a long time, and much may happen before then."

What strange power was there in his looks or words that drew this admission from her? She regretted the words the moment after she uttered them, but she did not know that she had removed the barrier that kept Guy from trying to win her himself.

"Do you think he may learn to care for someone else, or that you--"

"I have never met anyone yet that I like better," and she lifted her eyes to his as she said this, but she dropped them at once, and a strange, uneasy feeling possessed her that she could not understand.

"Thank you, Miss Dexie, for your confidence. Now, let the understanding be mutual. Will you give me the privilege you have so long denied me of being your friend and protector _pro tem._, as it were? Neither you nor I have anyone here to claim our society, and I get very tired of my own company; I would like to have one special lady friend. Will you not hereafter accept my company without that inward protest which I always feel you have for me?"

"You are very kind, Mr. Traverse, but I would prefer matters as they are. I do not mind going about alone in the least."

"Oh! I know that, Miss Independence, but I mind it; so say that I may occupy the place of the absent friend, to some extent at least. I'll write to him and demand permission, if you object," and he laughed pleasantly as he took her hand a moment in his own.

Just then the sound of footsteps warned them that their interview was over, and Guy rose to his feet and stood by the window as the rest entered the room.

"Hello, Traverse! we missed you in the supper-room," and Fenerty came over to his side. "Have you found all your persuasions in vain, Miss Dexie?" pointing to the untasted repast on the tray.

"Man alive! do you think a man's appetite can survive everything?" said Traverse, with a frown.

"Forgive me, Traverse! I did not mean to add to your feelings. I don't wonder you feel cut up," said Fenerty, whispering his apologies.

"Mr. Fenerty, take him out in the dining-room. My presence has prevented him from partaking of the refreshments I brought him. Try and make him forget the unpleasantness that has occurred," and Dexie looked up with a smile at Traverse, as he followed his friend from the room, and then turned to her other guests.

She was glad to see that Gussie was doing all she could to win her way back into favor, for she passed from group to group with a pleasant word and a smile for all. Fingers and needles were soon busy again, and the unfinished badges were attacked with renewed vigor.

"That was a nasty trick of Miss Gussie's, Traverse," young Fenerty was saying, as he waited upon his friend in the dining-room, "but I am sure she never suspected that the letter belonged to you."

"What difference did that make? The act was unpardonable when she knew it was not her own property. I suppose I will never hear the last of it."

"'Pon honor, Traverse, I hope you do not think any of us are mean enough to refer to the matter again. But come away to the rest, if you are through; they are at work again, I believe."

"It is all right, Miss Dexie," nodding to her as she appeared in the door. "He will soon get over it. Is there any objection to a little carpet dance to finish the evening? That will make Traverse forget to be melancholy if anything will," he added, in a low voice.

"Very well; as soon as they finish the badges you can help clear the room."

Dexie cast a backward look at Traverse and saw his amused smile, and it was hard to control her features when his face assumed such a mournful expression directly Fenerty addressed him.

Half an hour later, tables and chairs were set aside, and the sound that came forth from the piano, at Dexie's bidding, set agoing the feet of the dancers. She had played through several dances when Guy came up to her side with Ada Chester.

"I have brought someone to take your place, Miss Dexie. Play a waltz for us, Miss Chester," and Guy took Dexie from her seat.

The couple made the circuit of the room several times before anyone joined them; it was a pleasure to watch the well-matched pair swaying to the delightful music.

"We seem to have the floor to ourselves," Dexie said with a smile.

"If they knew the bliss of a perfect waltz, we would be crowded out, Miss Dexie. I begin to think I never waltzed before; your step is perfect--what, you are not tired?" as Dexie stopped and led the way back to the piano.

"No, but I will relieve Miss Chester; she is very fond of dancing."

Dexie did not care to confess how much she had enjoyed the little dance, but she was beginning to think that there was some strange spell in the voice and manner of her partner that drew her very thoughts from her. She must get away from his presence, so turned to Miss Chester, saying:

"I can recommend Mr. Traverse as a superb waltzer, Ada, so let me give you the pleasure of a few turns around the room with him to the same music. Mr. Traverse, do let Miss Chester know for once what waltzing really is," and she struck the keys and sent them floating from her side.

The evening's pleasure closed all too quickly, and as the last good-byes were spoken Guy lingered to whisper:

"I shall call and take you to choir practice in good season, so do not run away before I come for you. Good-night, Miss Dexie."

The warm clasp of the hand, and the earnest look in his dark grey eyes, lingered in Dexie's memory until sleep had put all thoughts aside and mixed the real with the unreal in troubled dreams.