CHAPTER XXXVI.
AN INTERESTING EVENT—SHADE AND SUNSHINE.
When Mr. Lawson called at "Sunnybank" on the following day he was pained to hear that Mr. Verne had taken a bad turn. The physician had given strict orders that none should approach him except an old nurse who had seen much service in the family.
"It has been too much for him," murmured Phillip as he closed the doer behind him, and again the word "to-morrow" sounded prophetically in his ear.
But the solicitor was not allowed to indulge further in gloomy thought. He had scarcely seated himself at his office desk when the bright countenance of Mr. Moses Spriggins beamed upon all around.
"Good morning, Mr. Spriggins," exclaimed Mr. Lawson heartily glad to see the face of his honest friend.
"Don't be too sure that you're glad to see me, Mr. Lawson," (Mr. Spriggins having dropped the appellation of 'Squire) "for I've come on a kinder disagreeable errant."
"I am sorry to hear that, Mr. Spriggins. But perhaps it is not so bad as you imagine," said the solicitor very cheerily.
"It's the roughest on you, sir. I tell yer what it is, it ain't a very disagreeable piece of bus'ness for me to git married to Melindy Jane Thrasher when we've been a-courtin' mor'n two years—jest two years last hayin' time, for Melindy came to our house to help the wimmin folks and the first time I sot eyes on her I'd made up my mind."
Mr. Spriggins was becoming very eloquent on the subject and might have said much more (not to the point) when interrupted.
"And you have come to inform us that we must give up Melindy?"
"Yes, sir, that is the hull thing in a few words," cried Mr. Spriggins very much elated, "Isn't it a wonderful gift you fellars have of speakin' right to the pint. By hokey, I'd give a good deal if I was a lawyer—an honest, fair-square one like yerself, sir."
"Thank you Mr. Spriggins," said the young man trying hard to look serious.
"I was at yer place last evenin', sir, and as Melindy and me talked the thing over, she said that she felt backward of tellin' you, and says I, Melindy, I'll see Mr. Lawson meself and tell him to look out for another girl, so as you'd not be left without help."
"And you have given us sufficient time, I hope," said Mr. Lawson, smiling.
"We're to be spliced a fortnight from next Tuesday, sir, and if it's not askin' too much, I'd like terrible well if yerself and Miss Lottie could come up to Mill Crossin' to be present at the cer'mony."
"If nothing prevents we will go," said the young man quietly.
Mr. Spriggins sat for some moments and then informing the solicitor that he had some business at the insurance office rose to take leave.
"I suppose you have heard of Mr. Verne's illness?" ventured Mr.
Lawson.
"Yes, sir, Melindy and meself was a-talkin' the hull thing over last night. He is a fine gentleman, sir,—and the young lady—I'm so glad she's back again. Ah! she's a fine girl, sir. I bet the old gentleman will be all right now, for the sight of her face is bettern' all the medicine in all the poth'cary consarns in St John."
What a temptation presented itself to the young man. He could easily ask the honest-hearted fellow about his interview with Mr. Verne, and of the effect upon him; also the nature of the conversation.
That Moses Spriggins formed a connecting link in some future disclosure he was doubly convinced, but it must come about by an established order of things; and the young lawyer thanked God that he was given sufficient strength to withstand the power of the tempter.
When Mr. Lawson went home that evening he received the full benefit of the information imparted to Miss Lottie.
It had been arranged that the latter should assist in the selection of the indispensable trousseau, and this was indeed a source of delight.
Mr. Spriggins came to town many times ere he could suit himself in a brand-new suit of clothes, also some new furniture to make things look "kinder nobby."
Nell Spriggins had been married some weeks previous, and as she had borne away her "fit out," there were many vacant corners in the Spriggins homestead, which of course fell to the lot of Moses to restore in due order.
But Mr. Spriggins was equal to the occasion.
"It ain't every day a feller gits spliced, I can tell yer, and one orter put the best foot for'ard. Tell you what it is, mother, Melindy and me is a-goin' to make the folks' eyes stick out when we 'pear out in the Mill Crossin' meetin' house."
The good old lady wiped her glasses and advised her son to be moderate in his ideas, "for," said she, "I always think that a quiet beginnin' makes the best endin'"
"Endin', did you say, mother' Wal, that's very encouragin', to be a-talkin' about endin' when a fellar feels like livin' till he has to be killed off," and Moses' big blue eyes glistened like two big china marbles.
"Now, Moses, if you are a-goin' to be married, you needn't be a-losin' of every speck of sense. It's enough for a bit of a boy to be a-makin' of sich light speeches."
Mrs. Spriggins' remarks were brought to a close by Moses making an exit via the back door, and when the privacy of the sheep-house had been gained he sat down on a big log and began counting how much money he had still on hand after his trip to town on the day previous.
"Let's see—there's thirty-six dollars and one cent. Yes, every cent's a cent, and twenty-one dollars Sam Wiggles owes me, and the two loads o' hay Jim Briggs is a-takin' to town this week—that's sure cash—well, thirty-six and twenty-one is fifty-seven, and the hay—wal, it's all as good as seventy-five dollars."
A couple of huge hogs acting upon the aggressive in appropriating a large share of hen feed, now interrupted the soliloquy, and after combating the unscrupulous animals, Moses Spriggins once more seated himself upon the log.
"Wal, seventy-five dollars won't make a bad spread, neither. I'm terrible sorry that there's trouble in the Verneses. I'd like deuced well to have that Miss Margit—now that's too highfalutin a name for me—if Melindy were here she'd git it off in good style."
Silence reigned for a moment; then Moses took up the thread of discourse. "When a fellar's gettin' spliced hisself he wants every one else to follow. Wal, it's no use a-sayin' it, but if Mr. Lawson and Miss Verne could have both a-come to the weddin' there's no tellin' what might have happened. They'd git interested in the cer'mony, and I'd bet ten to one they'd be a-proposin' before it was over. Wal, sir, if Mr. Verne gits the leastest bit better, I'm a-goin' after Miss Verne, sure pop."
Moses having made such resolution now carefully folded the notes in his business-like pocket-book and set off to do the work which awaited him.
It was, indeed, somewhat of a coincidence to know that at the same moment when Moses Spriggins was speculating upon the prospects of his legal friend that the latter should be also troubled about the veritable Moses.
Lottie Lawson had gone to "Sunnybank," brimming over with the affairs of the elated Melindy Jane.
Marguerite listened to the child's amusing description of the many articles that were hourly displayed by the expectant bride, and when consulted as to the choice of a wedding present, thoughtfully proposed sending one herself.
"Oh. Miss Verne, that will be delightful," cried Lottie, clapping her hands in childish glee. "Why, Melindy will have lots of nice things; I know what brother Phillip is going to give—a pretty China tea-set—and mine, a pair of napkin rings."
Marguerite smiled at the little maid's enthusiasm, and warned her against being too communicative to Melindy Jane.
"Indeed, she will not know what they are until brother Phillip and I go out to Mill Crossing."
Lottie took her departure and Marguerite once more sought her father's room to take her place beside his bed.
* * * * *
"Spriggins, did you say, papa?"
"Yes, child—I want the paper."
"Which paper, papa—can I get it for you?"
In the effort to make known his wishes his memory had failed him, and Marguerite stood utterly helpless to execute that wish.
"Something is on papa's mind—some paper. It is, indeed, of much importance, for poor papa has been deeply agitated."
The girl had noticed that her father's eyes always rested upon her in a mute, half-despairing appeal, yet she had not courage to question him upon the matter.
"If I could only speak to Mr. Lawson, but there is a restraint between us that I suppose under the circumstances is only natural. I am the affianced wife of Hubert Tracy and Phillip Lawson is not the man to take advantage of his influence."
A heavy sigh escaped Marguerite and instantly she raised both hands as if to compress the aching brow and wearied brain.
In the quiet of her own chamber Marguerite Verne felt that she was safe from human eyes. She longed to give vent to her pent up sorrow, and sitting down upon a pretty ottoman (the work of her own industrious hands) uttered a low and mournful wail—such only as would express a broken heart.
"Oh Phillip Lawson, it is hard to meet you every day of my life and to know that we are strangers indeed—yes, worse than strangers. Oh, my sad heart. None but heaven will ever know what I have suffered and am suffering now. Oh, Phillip! Phillip! why is your image ever before me! Why do you approach me with your grave but kind face and hold out your hand in tenderest sympathy! Oh, my heart, it is maddening! Why was I born to such feeling! Why was I cursed with the susceptibilities of a warm and loving heart! Why were not these sympathetic chords torn rudely asunder ere they could vibrate with such anguish! Why did not my heart turn into stone ere it took root in such deadly bitter soil! Ah well, love is common and grief is common—'Never morning wore to evening but some heart did break.' And I am only a drop in the great ocean—the great sea of struggles—heart-aches and bitter groans!"
A rustle of garments in the outer hall caused Marguerite to raise her head and as she caught a glimpse of her sorrowful face in the mirror opposite she felt a sudden pang and seemed to meet the mild despairing gaze of her idolized parent.
"Dear papa, what would he think of his rebellious child?" Immediately the girl was trying to look brave and struggling hard to set aside all the painful thoughts.
Marguerite fortunately was endowed with much will power. She could master her thoughts to such a degree that a quiet, calm content would succeed, and in this condition she went to her mother's room.
Mrs. Verne was now in a semi-invalid state. She was moody and morose, and oftentimes much depressed. It would be charitable for us to think that this woman reflected upon her past foolishness; and be it as it may we will give her the benefit of the doubt.
Mr. Verne saw little of his wife, but there were moments when his thoughts went back to the child-wife of his youth, and a tear glistened in his eye as he recalled the bright scenes of the sadly dimmed life.
But Marguerite Verne compensated for her mother's defects. She was truly all in all to her fond parent. Her smile was his beacon light. Her voice was more musical than harp or psaltery, and her loving ministration were life indeed; and as each morning and evening the girl clasped her hands and knelt beside her father's couch reading aloud the several beautiful prayers for the visitation of the sick, what soul could fail to be deeply affected.
"What a picture for a Guido, a Rembrandt, or a Correggio," thought Phillip Lawson as he stood on the threshold not daring to breathe lest he break the solemn spell; and as he noiselessly turns away the vision haunts him with increasing vividness. "Turn which way I will it is always the same," he murmured, and entering Warwick's elegant china store felt like anything but selecting a bridal present.
But the world has its claims upon us, and Phillip Lawson was shown the many beautiful patterns of delicate china cups, plates, etc., and very soon selected a pretty tea-set that would make glad the heart of the expectant bride.
The young man had crossed over to the northern side of King street, but had not gone many steps when he heard familiar voices, looking around he espied the piquant Lottie and her domestic making their way into the handsome and tasteful establishment of Manchester, Robertson & Allison. The young solicitor was amused as he thought of the conversation which he had accidently overheard on the previous morning.
But for the shopping excursion.
Lottie with an air of importance had given much advice to the jubiliant Melindy but when that great emporium, so dear to many a woman's heart, had been, reached the latter almost lost her senses.
"If Mose could just peek in wouldn't he stare?" said she, casting her eyes on a pile of silks that had been displayed upon the counter.
Lottie smiled, and having directed Melindy's attention to a choice lot of dress material stepped to the other end of the ware-room to speak to one of her acquaintances.
The shades were too dull to suit Melindy's taste. She wanted it for a "pertikler occasion" and if she had thought in time would have brought a "certain person" in to choose it.
The merry twinkle in the clerk's eye brought Miss Lottie to the rescue, and after much deliberation on the part of Melindy a heavy piece of all-wool goods of bright maroon was at length decided upon for the best dress, while another of fancy plaid was chosen for reception purposes.
It is needless to enter into detail of all the knick-knacks that took Melindy's eye, but we cannot pass the millinery department, into which the latter was ushered by the amused but undemonstrative Lottie.
A bonnet was, of course, the desired article.
"It does look kinder nice," said Melindy surveying the pretty, tasteful cream-colored lace with a bunch of neat French flowers in relief, "but it looks to me as if it wasn't hardly dressy enough."
"We can easily arrange it to suit your taste," said the young lady in attendance as she went towards the show-case and began assorting some bright-colored roses as more acceptable.
"Wal, there's sumthin' more becomin'!" said Melindy into a high key, "and I'm certain that 'person' would like it better."
Melindy Jane cast a significant glance at Miss Lottie who in turn gave it to the young lady and the result was significant smiles all around.
"Well, its nothing to be ashamed of. I s'pose we might as well tell you that I want it for peerin' out with, and as there's alwus so many remarks passed I'd like it to be sumthin' dressy."
"Certainly," said the young lady, and within a very short time the cream-colored bonnet was in reality a bed of roses, highly suggestive to Miss Lottie of the lines—
"Oh my love is like a red, red rose
That newly springs in June."
"There now," cried the delighted Melindy, looking in the mirror to note the effect, "that's just the style that'll take Moses' eye. Don't I wish he was here to see it."
The indispensable white gloves and white net veil and bright ribbons, flowers, etc., were now laid aside, and with a strict injunction "to be sure send 'em right away," Melindy Jane Thrasher was truly the happiest customer that ever emerged from the time-honored establishment of Manchester, Robertson & Allison.