The Opened Shutters: A Novel

by Clara Louise Burnham

  CHAPTER XVII

  THE ROSY CLOUD

  Another spot which was a favorite with Sylvia was out beyond thesheltered shores of the basin and the Tide Mill, on the point of landwhere the open waters of Casco Bay stretched toward the neighboringislands. Here the fir trees were small and huddled together in groupsto withstand the buffeting of winter winds; and here Sylvia sat withina rocky nest she knew, during many a happy solitary hour, watching thesword-fishers go out or return, and the smaller mackerel boats flitlightly on their way.

  On days when the great waters were gray and racked from storm, she saw,in their turbulence and moaning, pictures of what her life might havebeen, and then likened it to the quiet embowered waters of the basin,where Thinkright's love held her safe. To feel gratitude was a novelsensation to Sylvia, born with her new life. She could not rememberever having been grateful for anything until she met her cousin.

  The afternoon of this day when he had gone alone to town in thefarm-wagon she took her books and sought this rocky nest. There was asteady sailing wind, and she wished for Thinkright, who often took herout with him. Placing behind her back the calico-covered cushion shehad brought, she sank into her niche and opened her book, butimmediately her eye was allured and caught by the view, and again thereswept over her a longing, that for weeks had been increasing, tocapture this loveliness and make it her own. The general awakening ofher thought had long since banished the indifference with which duringthe first days at the Mill Farm she had viewed its surroundings. Inplace of apathy now there dwelt a craving to exercise the power whichshe felt was hers; to paint some of these ever changing, alluringphases of sea and sky whose beauty possessed her very soul.

  She longed unspeakably for materials for the work, and mourned that shehad not gathered whatever among her father's shabby, neglectedbelongings might be useful, and brought them with her. She recalledcarefully all that had ever been said seriously of her talent. Aburning regret for neglected opportunities and a burning desire to makeup for lost time now possessed her. She fluttered the leaves of thebook in her lap. Out dropped pencil sketches of the Tide Mill and agallery of the residents at the farm.

  There was Cap'n Lem's straw hat shading the nose and chin which drewcloser together as the kindly, toothless smile widened. There was Mrs.Lem's majestic pompadour and psyche knot, and the company expressionwhich always dilated her nostrils. There was Minty, her round eyesstaring, and her lips pursed; and there was---- No, Sylvia shook herhead. There was not Thinkright. As she looked fondly and wistfully atthe retreating hair and short beard, the horizontal lines in the browand the deep-set eyes, she knew that what made her cousin's faceprecious was not to be conveyed by pencil or brush. Swiftly she turnedthe paper over, and taking her pencil, with a few sure, swift strokessketched the back of a pair of slightly bent shoulders and a headrevealing one ear and the line of the cheek.

  "There," she sighed, smiling; "that's better. I know what I should seeif he turned around." Then she sank back again, narrowed her eyes, andlooked off at the skyline,--the distant dark clump of trees on HawkIsland; the nearer shore of Walrus Island; the ineffable sky. Oh, oh,for paints, for brushes, for paper,--in other words, for money! Healthand strength were returning to her in full measure. What work wasawaiting her? There was no room in Thinkright's universe for drones. Henever referred to her becoming self-supporting, but it was a part ofher new realization to see that a parasite could never be a healthygrowth. She was not sure enough how much substantial worth wasindicated by her talent to ask money from Thinkright for itsdevelopment, and certainly there was no one else to whom she wouldturn. She reminded herself that right here came an opportunity to applythe trust and confidence that her guardian was teaching her. It waswrong to shiver under one shadow of doubt. The sun would not go out ofits course to shine upon her, but she was beginning to know that anunfaithful consciousness was all that could prevent her coming intothat place where it would shine upon her.

  "If it is right, the way will open. If it isn't right, then you don'twant it," was one of Thinkright's declarations; and for the rest shehad only to keep her mental home clean and fragrant, wholesome andloving.

  Sylvia's eyes rested on the graceful rolling billows advancing instately procession from the black clump of trees on Hawk Island.

  The Father's Love had brought Edna Derwent a summer of play because sheneeded it. The same love would bring Sylvia Lacey a season of work ifthat were best. If it were not right to ask Thinkright for the help forwhich she longed, then some other way would be provided. Supposing shecould succeed in some artistic line! Supposing instead of being a deadweight upon her cousin, or at best an assistant to the housekeeper whohad been all-sufficient without her, she were able to help him; reallyto help Thinkright as he grew older! The thought made her cheeks flush,and her eyes grew soft. She bit her lip and closed her eyes.

  "Not to send one doubting thought into the world," she remindedherself. Then her thought arose. "Dear Father, Thou knowest my longing.Help me to know the nothingness of every barricade to thy light that Imay receive what I need."

  After a minute she looked up to see the waters foaming gently away fromher nest. They never reached it except in a storm. At the same momenther eye caught a sailboat entering the broad path of water that led tothe Tide Mill. She leaned forward to see the better, and recognizedBenny Merritt. She noticed that he had a passenger, but the sail hidall but the woman's skirt from the watcher.

  "Miss Derwent is coming to see us," thought Sylvia in a flash, andstarted to her feet. The tide was high enough for the boatman to gointo the basin and land at the nearest point to the farm.

  Not so. Benny steered his craft for the same rock-sheltered point wherehe had landed Miss Derwent the last time.

  Sylvia ran along the shore toward them. "You can still get inside thebasin," she called impulsively, not realizing that the possibilities ofthe locality were an old story to Benny. The latter looked upinquiringly toward the voice, but it was the passenger who replied, "Nodoubt we could, but we have to get out of the basin again, that's thetrouble." With these words the speaker, a little woman in a shade hat,sprang up and scrambled ashore.

  Sylvia paused. Why should she have supposed that the blue-eyed Bennynever carried any passenger except Miss Derwent? This one wore a dressof dark blue denim, and her hat was tied securely under the chin by aribbon which passed over its crown.

  The stranger looked up from under its shade and peered at Sylviathrough her eye-glasses, at first indifferently, and then with a start.

  "Can this be Sylvia Lacey!" she exclaimed, hastening toward thebareheaded girl. Sylvia had caught up her books and pillow and nowstood with her arms full, her color coming and going as she bracedherself. All the scene in the hotel returned. The hurt and sorenessclamored to be felt again. It was a moment of acute struggle. Beforeher eyes the Tide Mill rose, its closed shutters resolutely huggingpast injuries and excluding the besieging sunlight that searched everycrevice to pour in warmth and light.

  Miss Martha read something of her niece's thoughts. She had undertakenthis visit with dread, and the sudden encounter made her rathertremulous; but, above all things, Benny Merritt must suspect nothing.

  "It's the very first day I could come over, my dear," she saidhurriedly, "what with home cares and a rough sea; I'm not the best ofsailors, but I've thought of you often. Now Benny," turning to him,"I'll be back at this very spot in one hour. I shan't fail, understand,so don't sail off anywhere, or else we shan't reach home in time fortea. Let us get over these rocks into the woods, Sylvia, and then I cantake some of your traps. How well you are looking, my dear child."

  The very voice was painful to her niece in its associations, but thegirl followed as Miss Lacey briskly moved off into the woods before aword could be said to lead Benny into speculation.

  Sylvia, while she followed, asked herself if her prayer had been aughtbeside empty words. Was she really desirous of proving the nothingnessof all things that excluded the light? She seemed to se
e Thinkrightlooking straight into her eyes. What guests were trying to elbow theirway into her mental home? As soon as they had reached the path her auntturned. Sylvia spoke, and her tone was gentle.

  "You needn't carry anything, Aunt Martha. I'm used to running abouthere loaded."

  Miss Lacey glanced up at her quickly. That dark look which had at firstmet her recognition had now melted into light. There was no mistakingthe girl's expression as they stood facing each other behind theshelter of a clump of firs.

  "Oh, my dear, my dear!" exclaimed Miss Martha brokenly, grasping herniece's arms and gazing into her eyes, "I am very glad to see you."

  "You were kind to come," returned Sylvia, and she kissed Miss Martha'scheek under the scooping hat. Then they walked on.

  "What these few weeks have done for you, Sylvia! Perfect rest, goodfood, the best air in the world, regular hours and no care, ought towork a miracle when one is nineteen, and they have in you. If it hadn'tbeen for those short curls of yours I shouldn't have recognized you atfirst."

  They moved slowly along the path, and Sylvia asked for Miss Derwent.

  "She's as happy as the days are long," declared Miss Lacey. "She toldme to bring you back if I could."

  "How kind. Thinkright will sail me over some day to call. He went totown this morning. I hope he'll not miss your visit altogether."

  As soon as they had reached the clearing from which the farmhouse wasvisible Sylvia gave an exclamation of satisfaction. "There they are;there are the horses! He has come."

  They could see the team taken out from the wagon, standing near thebarn, their harness dangling while Thinkright and Cap'n Lem werestooping over some object which the wagon hid from the view of thosebelow.

  "Wouldn't you like to go and speak to him?" asked Sylvia.

  Miss Martha looked at her curiously. The eager tone and the face allalight were eloquent. Well, Thinkright doubtless deserved it.

  "Yes, let's go and see what they are working over."

  Sylvia dropped her cushion, and the books on top of it, and the twohurried toward the barn.

  Before the engrossed men perceived their approach Sylvia saw that itwas a slender, graceful boat which was absorbing their attention. Itwas varnished within and without, the golden brown wood glinting in thesun. Two pairs of oars lay on the grass.

  "Oh, Thinkright, what a beauty!" exclaimed Sylvia. The men looked up,smiling. "Here is Aunt Martha," added the girl.

  "Just in the nick of time, Martha," said Thinkright, coming forward andshaking hands. "We've a beauty here to show you."

  Miss Martha came forward to greet Cap'n Lem.

  "Glad to see you back, Miss Marthy. What d'ye think o' this plaything,hey?"

  "Why, I think it _is_ a plaything!" returned Miss Lacey briskly. "Whatare you going to do with it, Cap'n Lem? Use it for an ornament on thelawn and plant flowers in it?"

  "Wall, I guess I can't afford no sech a vase as that,--not till my shipcomes in."

  "But it's a mere toy for the ocean, as you say," rejoined Miss Martha."Who would go out in that shell?"

  "This child here," said Thinkright, while Sylvia's eyes grew moreeager. "It's just the thing for the basin."

  "Thinkright, you haven't bought me a boat!" the girl cried.

  He shook his head and smiled. "No, not I. Your Uncle Calvin has sentyou this."

  "And if it hain't got the durndest name for a yaller bo't that ever Isee," remarked Cap'n Lem.

  "Yes," added Thinkright. "We're surprised at the name, for it is JudgeTrent's own selection. It scarcely seems characteristic."

  Sylvia and her aunt hurried around the other side of the little craft.In neat, small black letters was printed, The Rosy Cloud.

  Sylvia gazed, then she colored to the roots of the silky curls andlaughed. The others watched her curiously.

  "Do you know what he was aiming at?" asked Thinkright.

  "Yes," she nodded. "He was aiming high."

  Miss Lacey kept her sharp eyes on the conscious young face, devouredwith curiosity.

  "Tell us the joke, Sylvia," she begged.

  "It isn't a joke, it's earnest," returned the girl, and a warm feelingarose in her heart for the eagle-eyed man in the high hat. "Did youever hear of anything so surprising, Thinkright, and so kind?"

  "He told me he was going to order it when he went away," responded hercousin; then he turned toward Miss Lacey. "Calvin found this child ofours trying to learn to row in an old general utility tub I have downat the basin, and he thought she deserved better things."

  The speaker looked at Sylvia, who came close to him and took hold ofhis hand, while she continued to look at her new possession.

  It was Love expressed to her again; and the guest she had tried withgentleness to win, sweet Humility, sank deeper into her heart, and sentup a note of gratitude that she had not a few minutes ago tried topunish Aunt Martha by word or look and so embittered this moment.

  "It's amazing, simply amazing in Calvin!" thought Miss Martha. "Shemust have bewitched him, and what could he have meant by 'The RosyCloud,' and why should she blush over it?"

  Thinkright walked to the house with the visitor a few minutes later,while Cap'n Lem stayed to put up the horses and Sylvia lingered toexamine her light oars.

  "Calvin's outdone himself," remarked Miss Martha. "He must have taken agreat fancy to her."

  "It looks that way," responded Thinkright.

  "And you don't know what he could possibly mean by that poetical name,do you?"

  "I haven't an idea," returned her companion, well pleased that such wasthe case, for he could see that otherwise it might go hard with him.

  "And I daresay you're quite as bewitched with her as Calvin," pursuedMiss Lacey curiously.

  "I'm under her little thumb, but luckily she doesn't know it," was thereply.

  "Well, I think it's high time I came over to get acquainted with hermyself," remarked Miss Martha.

  "High time, Martha," returned Thinkright, smiling. "It's high time yougot in the game."