Anne''s House of Dreams

  CHAPTER 20

  LOST MARGARET

  Anne found that she could go on living; the day came when she evensmiled again over one of Miss Cornelia's speeches. But there wassomething in the smile that had never been in Anne's smile before andwould never be absent from it again.

  On the first day she was able to go for a drive Gilbert took her downto Four Winds Point, and left her there while he rowed over the channelto see a patient at the fishing village. A rollicking wind wasscudding across the harbor and the dunes, whipping the water intowhite-caps and washing the sandshore with long lines of silverybreakers.

  "I'm real proud to see you here again, Mistress Blythe," said CaptainJim. "Sit down--sit down. I'm afeared it's mighty dusty heretoday--but there's no need of looking at dust when you can look at suchscenery, is there?"

  "I don't mind the dust," said Anne, "but Gilbert says I must keep inthe open air. I think I'll go and sit on the rocks down there."

  "Would you like company or would you rather be alone?"

  "If by company you mean yours I'd much rather have it than be alone,"said Anne, smiling. Then she sighed. She had never before mindedbeing alone. Now she dreaded it. When she was alone now she felt sodreadfully alone.

  "Here's a nice little spot where the wind can't get at you," saidCaptain Jim, when they reached the rocks. "I often sit here. It's agreat place jest to sit and dream."

  "Oh--dreams," sighed Anne. "I can't dream now, Captain Jim--I'm donewith dreams."

  "Oh, no, you're not, Mistress Blythe--oh, no, you're not," said CaptainJim meditatively. "I know how you feel jest now--but if you keep onliving you'll get glad again, and the first thing you know you'll bedreaming again--thank the good Lord for it! If it wasn't for ourdreams they might as well bury us. How'd we stand living if it wasn'tfor our dream of immortality? And that's a dream that's BOUND to cometrue, Mistress Blythe. You'll see your little Joyce again some day."

  "But she won't be my baby," said Anne, with trembling lips. "Oh, shemay be, as Longfellow says, 'a fair maiden clothed with celestialgrace'--but she'll be a stranger to me."

  "God will manage better'n THAT, I believe," said Captain Jim.

  They were both silent for a little time. Then Captain Jim said verysoftly:

  "Mistress Blythe, may I tell you about lost Margaret?"

  "Of course," said Anne gently. She did not know who "lost Margaret"was, but she felt that she was going to hear the romance of CaptainJim's life.

  "I've often wanted to tell you about her," Captain Jim went on.

  "Do you know why, Mistress Blythe? It's because I want somebody toremember and think of her sometime after I'm gone. I can't bear thather name should be forgotten by all living souls. And now nobodyremembers lost Margaret but me."

  Then Captain Jim told the story--an old, old forgotten story, for itwas over fifty years since Margaret had fallen asleep one day in herfather's dory and drifted--or so it was supposed, for nothing was evercertainly known as to her fate--out of the channel, beyond the bar, toperish in the black thundersquall which had come up so suddenly thatlong-ago summer afternoon. But to Captain Jim those fifty years werebut as yesterday when it is past.

  "I walked the shore for months after that," he said sadly, "looking tofind her dear, sweet little body; but the sea never give her back tome. But I'll find her sometime, Mistress Blythe--I'll find hersometime. She's waiting for me. I wish I could tell you jest how shelooked, but I can't. I've seen a fine, silvery mist hanging over thebar at sunrise that seemed like her--and then again I've seen a whitebirch in the woods back yander that made me think of her. She hadpale, brown hair and a little white, sweet face, and long slenderfingers like yours, Mistress Blythe, only browner, for she was a shoregirl. Sometimes I wake up in the night and hear the sea calling to mein the old way, and it seems as if lost Margaret called in it. Andwhen there's a storm and the waves are sobbing and moaning I hear herlamenting among them. And when they laugh on a gay day it's HERlaugh--lost Margaret's sweet, roguish, little laugh. The sea took herfrom me, but some day I'll find her. Mistress Blythe. It can't keepus apart forever."

  "I am glad you have told me about her," said Anne. "I have oftenwondered why you had lived all your life alone."

  "I couldn't ever care for anyone else. Lost Margaret took my heartwith her--out there," said the old lover, who had been faithful forfifty years to his drowned sweetheart. "You won't mind if I talk agood deal about her, will you, Mistress Blythe? It's a pleasure tome--for all the pain went out of her memory years ago and jest left itsblessing. I know you'll never forget her, Mistress Blythe. And if theyears, as I hope, bring other little folks to your home, I want you topromise me that you'll tell THEM the story of lost Margaret, so thather name won't be forgotten among humankind."