Anne's House of Dreams [35]
there was something wrong, though, because I knew how she had snubbed him time and again, and it wasn't like Leslie to turn face--about like that. Besides, I knew that Dick Moore wasn't the kind of man Leslie could ever fancy, in spite of his good looks and dashing ways. Of course, there was no wedding, but Rose asked me to go and see them married. I went, but I was sorry I did. I'd seen Leslie's face at her brother's funeral and at her father's funeral--and now it seemed to me I was seeing it at her own funeral. But Rose was smiling as a basket of chips, believe ME!
"Leslie and Dick settled down on the West place--Rose couldn't bear to part with her dear daughter!--and lived there for the winter. In the spring Rose took pneumonia and died--a year too late! Leslie was heart-broken enough over it. Isn't it terrible the way some unworthy folks are loved, while others that deserve it far more, you'd think, never get much affection? As for Dick, he'd had enough of quiet married life--just like a man. He was for up and off. He went over to Nova Scotia to visit his relations--his father had come from Nova Scotia--and he wrote back to Leslie that his cousin, George Moore, was going on a voyage to Havana and he was going too. The name of the vessel was the Four Sisters and they were to be gone about nine weeks.
"It must have been a relief to Leslie. But she never said anything. From the day of her marriage she was just what she is now--cold and proud, and keeping everyone but me at a distance. I won't BE kept at a distance, believe ME! I've just stuck to Leslie as close as I knew how in spite of everything."
"She told me you were the best friend she had," said Anne.
"Did she?" exclaimed Miss Cornelia delightedly. "Well, I'm real thankful to hear it. Sometimes I've wondered if she really did want me around at all--she never let me think so. You must have thawed her out more than you think, or she wouldn't have said that much itself to you. Oh, that poor, heart-broken girl! I never see Dick Moore but I want to run a knife clean through him."
Miss Cornelia wiped her eyes again and having relieved her feelings by her blood-thirsty wish, took up her tale.
"Well, Leslie was left over there alone. Dick had put in the crop before he went, and old Abner looked after it. The summer went by and the Four Sisters didn't come back. The Nova Scotia Moores investigated, and found she had got to Havana and discharged her cargo and took on another and left for home; and that was all they ever found out about her. By degrees people began to talk of Dick Moore as one that was dead. Almost everyone believed that he was, though no one felt certain, for men have turned up here at the harbor after they'd been gone for years. Leslie never thought he was dead--and she was right. A thousand pities too! The next summer Captain Jim was in Havana--that was before he gave up the sea, of course. He thought he'd poke round a bit--Captain Jim was always meddlesome, just like a man--and he went to inquiring round among the sailors' boarding houses and places like that, to see if he could find out anything about the crew of the Four Sisters. He'd better have let sleeping dogs lie, in my opinion! Well, he went to one out-of-the-way place, and there he found a man he knew at first sight it was Dick Moore, though he had a big beard. Captain Jim got it shaved off and then there was no doubt--Dick Moore it was--his body at least. His mind wasn't there--as for his soul, in my opinion he never had one!"
"What had happened to him?"
"Nobody knows the rights of it. All the folks who kept the boarding house could tell was that about a year before they had found him lying on their doorstep one morning in an awful condition--his head battered to a jelly almost. They supposed he'd got hurt in some drunken row, and likely that's the truth of it. They took him in, never thinking he could live. But he did--and he was just like a child when he got well. He hadn't memory or intellect or reason. They tried to find out who
"Leslie and Dick settled down on the West place--Rose couldn't bear to part with her dear daughter!--and lived there for the winter. In the spring Rose took pneumonia and died--a year too late! Leslie was heart-broken enough over it. Isn't it terrible the way some unworthy folks are loved, while others that deserve it far more, you'd think, never get much affection? As for Dick, he'd had enough of quiet married life--just like a man. He was for up and off. He went over to Nova Scotia to visit his relations--his father had come from Nova Scotia--and he wrote back to Leslie that his cousin, George Moore, was going on a voyage to Havana and he was going too. The name of the vessel was the Four Sisters and they were to be gone about nine weeks.
"It must have been a relief to Leslie. But she never said anything. From the day of her marriage she was just what she is now--cold and proud, and keeping everyone but me at a distance. I won't BE kept at a distance, believe ME! I've just stuck to Leslie as close as I knew how in spite of everything."
"She told me you were the best friend she had," said Anne.
"Did she?" exclaimed Miss Cornelia delightedly. "Well, I'm real thankful to hear it. Sometimes I've wondered if she really did want me around at all--she never let me think so. You must have thawed her out more than you think, or she wouldn't have said that much itself to you. Oh, that poor, heart-broken girl! I never see Dick Moore but I want to run a knife clean through him."
Miss Cornelia wiped her eyes again and having relieved her feelings by her blood-thirsty wish, took up her tale.
"Well, Leslie was left over there alone. Dick had put in the crop before he went, and old Abner looked after it. The summer went by and the Four Sisters didn't come back. The Nova Scotia Moores investigated, and found she had got to Havana and discharged her cargo and took on another and left for home; and that was all they ever found out about her. By degrees people began to talk of Dick Moore as one that was dead. Almost everyone believed that he was, though no one felt certain, for men have turned up here at the harbor after they'd been gone for years. Leslie never thought he was dead--and she was right. A thousand pities too! The next summer Captain Jim was in Havana--that was before he gave up the sea, of course. He thought he'd poke round a bit--Captain Jim was always meddlesome, just like a man--and he went to inquiring round among the sailors' boarding houses and places like that, to see if he could find out anything about the crew of the Four Sisters. He'd better have let sleeping dogs lie, in my opinion! Well, he went to one out-of-the-way place, and there he found a man he knew at first sight it was Dick Moore, though he had a big beard. Captain Jim got it shaved off and then there was no doubt--Dick Moore it was--his body at least. His mind wasn't there--as for his soul, in my opinion he never had one!"
"What had happened to him?"
"Nobody knows the rights of it. All the folks who kept the boarding house could tell was that about a year before they had found him lying on their doorstep one morning in an awful condition--his head battered to a jelly almost. They supposed he'd got hurt in some drunken row, and likely that's the truth of it. They took him in, never thinking he could live. But he did--and he was just like a child when he got well. He hadn't memory or intellect or reason. They tried to find out who