By one of the surprises frequent in the moods of women, even though one supposes their views to be settled on a particular point, it turned out that Jessie, when consulted, did not oppose his design.
"I have been thinking over what you said, dear, about educating people," she announced to him, "and perhaps you are right. If you're wrong, you'll find it out by an experiment. So all I have to say is, 'Go ahead.' That's the way you'd like to have me put it, isn't it?"
Her whole manner was sweet and trustful; she wanted to make amends to him. But, unless I am mistaken, Lance's effort on behalf of Adela was not entirely to her taste.
Thus, while they endeavored to keep up a good understanding, an entering wedge of doubt and possible division had been put in place.
The day having come for Adela's departure, difficulty arose as to her escort, if she was to have any. Aunty Losh was not precisely the person to introduce her at a Young Ladies' Academy; and Dennis also felt himself to be inadequate for that duty. Sylv, as was natural, refrained from offering his services. Neither was it possible for Lance to accompany her. The end of it was that Aunty Losh and Dennis went with her by wagon as far as Beaufort, and there she took the train alone for Newbern. Lance had been to the city and prepared the way for her, so that she might be received by the principal of the school, at the station.
But the time which followed was a dreary period to poor Dennis. Knowing his own faults, and that his loss in Adela's exile had been brought on by himself, he made no remonstrance after he saw that her purpose could not be altered. But his wonted cheeriness and energy forsook him as soon as she had gone; he performed his daily tasks in a listless and perfunctory way; he talked little, and did not forget his misery long enough to smile. On the other hand, he abstained from complaint; but occasionally, when alone with Aunty Losh, he would confer with her briefly about Adela and the change that had occurred. The jealousy that took root with such ease in his uncultivated mind, and sprang up there like a weed at the slightest encouragement, soon began to flourish again on a suspicion that Lance must have some interested motive in helping Adela. Aunty Losh, it must be said, was not a good counsellor. Much as Dennis tried to conceal this new source of trouble, it was perfectly apparent to her; and, because Dennis was her favorite and she instinctively aided against all innovations, she fanned the flame instead of quenching it.
"I reckon Deely may be your wife one o' these hyar days," she said, when they had been discussing his affairs and Lance's connection with them over a cup of yaupon. "Who would ha' thout you wouldn't been her husband now? But there's an old sayin' what's in my head, that the man as has got his hand on the back o' the chair is mighty often the one as sits down in it."
Dennis saw the application, and was filled with alarm. Possibly it had its effect in prompting him to seek assistance from Sylv; but his loneliness, and the harassing thought that Adela might also be lonely, or that something might go amiss in her new surroundings, where he could not be present to help her, had a great deal to do with his impulse. Besides, in contrition both for his jealousy of Sylv and his general disagreeableness toward his betrothed, he fancied that it would be a fine thing to show that he cared for her at a distance, and that he trusted his brother.
"Sylv," said he, one evening, while they were finishing the bestowment of the day's catch in the shed at one side of the cabin, where they kept the fish cool by means of spring water—"Sylv, I'd like right well to have you do somethin' for me."
"Say the word, Dennie," Sylv returned.