Signing the Contract and What it Cost

She went alone; and not wishing to attract observation, slipped quietly into a pew near the door.

The services had not yet begun, and her thoughts had flown far away to the dear ones worshipping in the upper sanctuary, when suddenly they were recalled to earth. A rustle of silk, and three gayly-dressed young girls swept up the aisle closely followed by two young men, the foremost, Espy Alden, stepping so close in passing that she could easily have laid her hand upon his arm.

Her heart gave a wild bound as she recognized him, but he did not see her.

She said to herself she was glad of it, yet it pained her to her heart’s core. Had he no eyes for any one but Miss Carrie Lea? Surely if his heart were loyal as of yore to his first love, he would have felt her presence near. It had seemed ever so in those earlier days.

He sat where she could see his side face, and many a furtive glance fed her hunger for the old love, a consuming fire that pride – her woman’s pride – vainly strove to trample out. Ah, it was the only earthly love left her, and it had been so sweet!

CHAPTER XIX

A GREAT SURPRISE

“Thinkest thou
That I could live and let thee go,
Who art my life itself? No, no!” —

    Moore.
The moment the benediction was pronounced Floy left the church and walked rapidly away, turning the first corner she came to, nor paused nor slackened her pace till she reached Mrs. Sharp’s door.

“Had you a good sermon?” queried Hetty at the dinner-table.

“Yes,” Floy answered absently.

“It does not seem to have refreshed you much,” sneered Mr. Sharp, with a keen glance at the pale, sorrowful face whereon the traces of tears were very evident. “I would prescribe a nap instead, next Sunday.”

“Don’t tease her, Thorne,” said Mrs. Goodenough, “she’s been trying to do her duty like a Christian. What is it Shakespeare says?”

“Madam, let me counsel you to purchase a copy of the works of that immortal bard, and study it for your own edification, for ours, and for that of the world at large,” he returned loftily and with a contemptuous wave of the hand, as he passed his cup to be refilled.

Hetty flushed indignantly.

“It might be for your edification, no doubt,” she retorted; “this passage for one – ‘Conceit in weakest bodies strongest works.’”

“Hush, hush, child! that’s too strong,” said her mother, taking the cup. “But unasked advice isn’t apt to be welcome, Thorne; what is it Shakespeare says?” and the tea-pot she had just lifted was set down again while she seemed lost in contemplation. “Ah! I have it:

“‘I pray thee cease thy counsel,
Which falls into mine ears as profitless
As water in a sieve.’”

Mr. Sharp rose, and, pushing his plate angrily away, strode from the room. Mrs. Sharp looked annoyed, but made no remark, contenting herself with a reproachful glance at her sister and niece.

Hetty accepted her share with extreme nonchalance. As for the other delinquent, she was too much elated by her successful quotation to heed so trifling a matter as the passing displeasure of her sister – a displeasure, too, which, as she shrewdly suspected, was more than half assumed for the mere sake of appearance.

That was the fact, and yet there was a real vexation to Mrs. Sharp in what had occurred, because she would have to bear the brunt of his ill-humor.

With that unpleasant conviction weighing upon her, she breathed a heavy sigh as she, too, left the table and the room.

“Poor Aunt Prue!” said Hetty, looking after her. “What a sad misnomer was her name when she undertook the care and support of – ”

“Hush, hush, child!” interrupted her mother.

“Well, well, I must try to keep my opinions to myself,” pursued the girl, with a serio-comic expression, “but I can’t help feeling sorry for her, or glad for ourselves, that we’ll get no more Sharp prickles from the Thorne to-day. He’s bound to spend the rest of it in a fit o’ the pouts, and will not darken these doors till noon of to-morrow.”

Mrs. Sharp found her Thorne lying on a couch in their chamber, literally pouting like the great baby that he was.

“My dear,” she said soothingly, “you mustn’t mind that saucy girl; she isn’t worth it, and – ”

“No, I suppose not; but if you cared a penny for me you’d send her away at once, or rather would have done so long ago.”

“But, unfortunately, Thorne, we can’t do without her, and, still more unfortunately, she is perfectly aware of the fact, and doesn’t scruple to take every advantage of it.”

“‘Where there’s a will there’s a way,’ Mrs. Sharp, and if you were the right sort of wife you’d never sit by and see your husband insulted at his own table as I have been to-day.”

“His own table indeed!” thought she; “it’s more Hetty’s than his; more mine than hers. But – ah, well, I must even make the best of a bad bargain.”

And going into an adjoining room, she presently returned laden with delicacies – fine confections and tropical fruits – which she pressed upon him, saying, “You made such a poor dinner; hardly eat enough to keep a bird alive; do try to eke it out with these. These grapes are splendid, so are the oranges and bananas, and I never saw finer candies.”

“I don’t want them,” he said shortly; “if things are to be locked up and kept from my knowledge till it suits you to bring them out, I’ll not touch them.”

At this she was justly indignant, and, losing all patience, informed him that “since he was determined to ‘bite off his nose to spite his face’ he was entirely welcome to do so.”

“To think that I should ever have married a woman who can use such vulgarisms as that!” said he, turning his back on her.

“Better be vulgar than wicked!” she retorted, “and the way you’re behaving is downright wicked – such temper and ingratitude! If you were a child I should say you wanted a good spanking, and I rather think so as it is. If I were you I’d really try to put away childish things.”

“You, who can be guilty of such extravagance as this, do well to reprove me, your liege lord,” he remarked with bitter sarcasm. “Cast the beam from your own eye, and you may perhaps see clearly to pull the mote out of mine.”

“My liege lord indeed!” she repeated scornfully; “rather my – But I will not bandy words with you, and, lest I should be too strongly tempted to do so, shall leave you to pout it out alone.”

So saying, she gathered up her rejected dainties and swept from the room, leaving him to repent of his refusal at leisure, for no child could be fonder of sweets than he.

All that day and the succeeding night Espy was present in Floy’s dreams whether sleeping or waking. Nor were they happy dreams, for they seemed to take him farther and farther from her. Yet she strove to be cheerful in the presence of others, and only Hetty suspected how hollow was the pretence. Monday passed by, bringing no unusual event. On Tuesday, at a late hour in the morning, she was again directed to go to the residence of the Leas; this time to fit a dress for Carrie’s mother.

“Mrs. Lea is not quite ready for you yet, miss,” said the servant who answered her ring. “She says you’ll be so good as to wait till she sends for you. Just walk in here, please,” he added on his own responsibility, perceiving that he was addressing a lady, and throwing open the door of the library as he spoke.

Floy stepped in, the door closing behind her, and instantly became aware that the room had an occupant, and only one – a young and handsome man, seated comfortably in an easy chair by the fire, and busied with the morning paper.

He looked up; the paper was suddenly flung aside, and in an instant he had caught both her hands in his, his face all aglow with delighted surprise.

“Floy, Floy! have I found you at last? Oh, darling, can you, will you forgive those cruel words of mine? Ah, if you knew how bitterly they have been repented!”

It was her own Espy again. Tears of joy rained down her cheeks; she could not speak for emotion; but she did not repulse him as he took her in his arms and folded her to his heart with many a tender caress, whispering the while, “Floy, Floy! my own darling, my own little wife!”

“No, no, not that!” she sobbed. “Oh, Espy, Espy, we must part!”

“For a little while – only for a little while – dearest.”

“Your parents – have they relented?” she asked, wiping the tears from her eyes and gazing steadily into his.