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“I dare say the marriage isn’t legal,” said Uncle James comfortingly. |
“He has probably been married half a dozen times before. But _I_ am |
through with her. I have done all I could, Amelia. I think you will |
admit that. Henceforth”—Uncle James was terribly solemn about |
it—“Valancy is to me as one dead.” |
“Mrs. Barney Snaith,” said Cousin Georgiana, as if trying it out to see |
how it would sound. |
“He has a score of aliases, no doubt,” said Uncle Benjamin. “For my |
part, I believe the man is half Indian. I haven’t a doubt they’re |
living in a wigwam.” |
“If he has married her under the name of Snaith and it isn’t his real |
name wouldn’t that make the marriage null and void?” asked Cousin |
Stickles hopefully. |
Uncle James shook his head. |
“No, it is the man who marries, not the name.” |
“You know,” said Cousin Gladys, who had recovered and returned but was |
still shaky, “I had a distinct premonition of this at Herbert’s silver |
dinner. I remarked it at the time. When she was defending Snaith. You |
remember, of course. It came over me like a revelation. I spoke to |
David when I went home about it.” |
“What—_what_,” demanded Aunt Wellington of the universe, “has come over |
Valancy? _Valancy_!” |
The universe did not answer but Uncle James did. |
“Isn’t there something coming up of late about secondary personalities |
cropping out? I don’t hold with many of those new-fangled notions, but |
there may be something in this one. It would account for her |
incomprehensible conduct.” |
“Valancy is so fond of mushrooms,” sighed Cousin Georgiana. “I’m afraid |
she’ll get poisoned eating toadstools by mistake living up back in the |
woods.” |
“There are worse things than death,” said Uncle James, believing that |
it was the first time in the world that such a statement had been made. |
“Nothing can ever be the same again!” sobbed Cousin Stickles. |
Valancy, hurrying along the dusty road, back to cool Mistawis and her |
purple island, had forgotten all about them—just as she had forgotten |
that she might drop dead at any moment if she hurried. |
CHAPTER XXVIII |
Summer passed by. The Stirling clan—with the insignificant exception of |
Cousin Georgiana—had tacitly agreed to follow Uncle James’ example and |
look upon Valancy as one dead. To be sure, Valancy had an unquiet, |
ghostly habit of recurring resurrections when she and Barney clattered |
through Deerwood and out to the Port in that unspeakable car. Valancy, |
bareheaded, with stars in her eyes. Barney, bareheaded, smoking his |
pipe. But shaved. Always shaved now, if any of them had noticed it. |
They even had the audacity to go in to Uncle Benjamin’s store to buy |
groceries. Twice Uncle Benjamin ignored them. Was not Valancy one of |
the dead? While Snaith had never existed. But the third time he told |
Barney he was a scoundrel who should be hung for luring an unfortunate, |
weak-minded girl away from her home and friends. |
Barney’s one straight eyebrow went up. |
“I have made her happy,” he said coolly, “and she was miserable with |
her friends. So that’s that.” |
Uncle Benjamin stared. It had never occurred to him that women had to |
be, or ought to be, “made happy.” |
“You—you pup!” he said. |
“Why be so unoriginal?” queried Barney amiably. “Anybody could call me |
a pup. Why not think of something worthy of the Stirlings? Besides, I’m |
not a pup. I’m really quite a middle-aged dog. Thirty-five, if you’re |
interested in knowing.” |
Uncle Benjamin remembered just in time that Valancy was dead. He turned |
his back on Barney. |
Valancy _was_ happy—gloriously and entirely so. She seemed to be living |
in a wonderful house of life and every day opened a new, mysterious |
room. It was in a world which had nothing in common with the one she |
had left behind—a world where time was not—which was young with |
immortal youth—where there was neither past nor future but only the |
present. She surrendered herself utterly to the charm of it. |
The absolute freedom of it all was unbelievable. They could do exactly |
as they liked. No Mrs. Grundy. No traditions. No relatives. Or in-laws. |
“Peace, perfect peace, with loved ones far away,” as Barney quoted |
shamelessly. |
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