CHAPTER 38
RED ROSES
The garden of the little house was a haunt beloved of bees and reddenedby late roses that August. The little house folk lived much in it, andwere given to taking picnic suppers in the grassy corner beyond thebrook and sitting about in it through the twilights when great nightmoths sailed athwart the velvet gloom. One evening Owen Ford foundLeslie alone in it. Anne and Gilbert were away, and Susan, who wasexpected back that night, had not yet returned.
The northern sky was amber and pale green over the fir tops. The airwas cool, for August was nearing September, and Leslie wore a crimsonscarf over her white dress. Together they wandered through the little,friendly, flower-crowded paths in silence. Owen must go soon. Hisholiday was nearly over. Leslie found her heart beating wildly. Sheknew that this beloved garden was to be the scene of the binding wordsthat must seal their as yet unworded understanding.
"Some evenings a strange odor blows down the air of this garden, like aphantom perfume," said Owen. "I have never been able to discover fromjust what flower it comes. It is elusive and haunting and wonderfullysweet. I like to fancy it is the soul of Grandmother Selwyn passing ona little visit to the old spot she loved so well. There should be alot of friendly ghosts about this little old house."
"I have lived under its roof only a month," said Leslie, "but I love itas I never loved the house over there where I have lived all my life."
"This house was builded and consecrated by love," said Owen. "Suchhouses, MUST exert an influence over those who live in them. And thisgarden--it is over sixty years old and the history of a thousand hopesand joys is written in its blossoms. Some of those flowers wereactually set out by the schoolmaster's bride, and she has been dead forthirty years. Yet they bloom on every summer. Look at those redroses, Leslie--how they queen it over everything else!"
"I love the red roses," said Leslie. "Anne likes the pink ones best,and Gilbert likes the white. But I want the crimson ones. Theysatisfy some craving in me as no other flower does."
"These roses are very late--they bloom after all the others havegone--and they hold all the warmth and soul of the summer come tofruition," said Owen, plucking some of the glowing, half-opened buds.
"The rose is the flower of love--the world has acclaimed it so forcenturies. The pink roses are love hopeful and expectant--the whiteroses are love dead or forsaken--but the red roses--ah, Leslie, whatare the red roses?"
"Love triumphant," said Leslie in a low voice.
"Yes--love triumphant and perfect. Leslie, you know--you understand.I have loved you from the first. And I KNOW you love me--I don't needto ask you. But I want to hear you say it--my darling--my darling!"
Leslie said something in a very low and tremulous voice. Their handsand lips met; it was life's supreme moment for them and as they stoodthere in the old garden, with its many years of love and delight andsorrow and glory, he crowned her shining hair with the red, red rose ofa love triumphant.
Anne and Gilbert returned presently, accompanied by Captain Jim. Annelighted a few sticks of driftwood in the fireplace, for love of thepixy flames, and they sat around it for an hour of good fellowship.
"When I sit looking at a driftwood fire it's easy to believe I'm youngagain," said Captain Jim.
"Can you read futures in the fire, Captain Jim?" asked Owen.
Captain Jim looked at them all affectionately and then back again atLeslie's vivid face and glowing eyes.
"I don't need the fire to read your futures," he said. "I seehappiness for all of you--all of you--for Leslie and Mr. Ford--and thedoctor here and Mistress Blythe--and Little Jem--and children thatain't born yet but will be. Happiness for you all--though, mind you, Ireckon you'll have your troubles and worries and sorrows, too. They'rebound to come--and no house, whether it's a palace or a little house ofdreams, can bar 'em out. But they won't get the better of you if youface 'em TOGETHER with love and trust. You can weather any storm withthem two for compass and pilot."
The old man rose suddenly and placed one hand on Leslie's head and oneon Anne's.
"Two good, sweet women," he said. "True and faithful and to bedepended on. Your husbands will have honor in the gates because ofyou--your children will rise up and call you blessed in the years tocome."
There was a strange solemnity about the little scene. Anne and Lesliebowed as those receiving a benediction. Gilbert suddenly brushed hishand over his eyes; Owen Ford was rapt as one who can see visions. Allwere silent for a space. The little house of dreams added anotherpoignant and unforgettable moment to its store of memories.
"I must be going now," said Captain Jim slowly at last. He took up hishat and looked lingeringly about the room.
"Good night, all of you," he said, as he went out.
Anne, pierced by the unusual wistfulness of his farewell, ran to thedoor after him.
"Come back soon, Captain Jim," she called, as he passed through thelittle gate hung between the firs.
"Ay, ay," he called cheerily back to her. But Captain Jim had sat bythe old fireside of the house of dreams for the last time.
Anne went slowly back to the others.
"It's so--so pitiful to think of him going all alone down to thatlonely Point," she said. "And there is no one to welcome him there."
"Captain Jim is such good company for others that one can't imagine himbeing anything but good company for himself," said Owen. "But he mustoften be lonely. There was a touch of the seer about him tonight--hespoke as one to whom it had been given to speak. Well, I must begoing, too."
Anne and Gilbert discreetly melted away; but when Owen had gone Annereturned, to find Leslie standing by the hearth.
"Oh, Leslie--I know--and I'm so glad, dear," she said, putting her armsabout her.
"Anne, my happiness frightens me," whispered Leslie. "It seems toogreat to be real--I'm afraid to speak of it--to think of it. It seemsto me that it must just be another dream of this house of dreams and itwill vanish when I leave here."
"Well, you are not going to leave here--until Owen takes you. You aregoing to stay with me until that times comes. Do you think I'd let yougo over to that lonely, sad place again?"
"Thank you, dear. I meant to ask you if I might stay with you. Ididn't want to go back there--it would seem like going back into thechill and dreariness of the old life again. Anne, Anne, what a friendyou've been to me--'a good, sweet woman--true and faithful and to bedepended on'--Captain Jim summed you up."
"He said 'women,' not 'woman,'" smiled Anne. "Perhaps Captain Jim seesus both through the rose-colored spectacles of his love for us. But wecan try to live up to his belief in us, at least."
"Do you remember, Anne," said Leslie slowly, "that I once said--thatnight we met on the shore--that I hated my good looks? I did--then.It always seemed to me that if I had been homely Dick would never havethought of me. I hated my beauty because it had attracted him, butnow--oh, I'm glad that I have it. It's all I have to offer Owen,--hisartist soul delights in it. I feel as if I do not come to him quiteempty-handed."
"Owen loves your beauty, Leslie. Who would not? But it's foolish ofyou to say or think that that is all you bring him. HE will tell youthat--I needn't. And now I must lock up. I expected Susan backtonight, but she has not come."
"Oh, yes, here I am, Mrs. Doctor, dear," said Susan, enteringunexpectedly from the kitchen, "and puffing like a hen drawing rails atthat! It's quite a walk from the Glen down here."
"I'm glad to see you back, Susan. How is your sister?"
"She is able to sit up, but of course she cannot walk yet. However,she is very well able to get on without me now, for her daughter hascome home for her vacation. And I am thankful to be back, Mrs. Doctor,dear. Matilda's leg was broken and no mistake, but her tongue was not.She would talk the legs off an iron pot, that she would, Mrs. Doctor,dear, though I grieve to say it of my own sister. She was always agreat talker and yet she was the first of our family to get married.She
really did not care much about marrying James Clow, but she couldnot bear to disoblige him. Not but what James is a good man--the onlyfault I have to find with him is that he always starts in to say gracewith such an unearthly groan, Mrs. Doctor, dear. It always frightensmy appetite clear away. And speaking of getting married, Mrs. Doctor,dear, is it true that Cornelia Bryant is going to be married toMarshall Elliott?"
"Yes, quite true, Susan."
"Well, Mrs. Doctor, dear, it does NOT seem to me fair. Here is me, whonever said a word against the men, and I cannot get married nohow. Andthere is Cornelia Bryant, who is never done abusing them, and all shehas to do is to reach out her hand and pick one up, as it were. It isa very strange world, Mrs. Doctor, dear."
"There's another world, you know, Susan."
"Yes," said Susan with a heavy sigh, "but, Mrs. Doctor, dear, there isneither marrying nor giving in marriage there."