Lucy Montgomery - The Blue Castle

Well, here was Valancy at last, a poised, confident thing, not humble and deprecating as she should have been. And so oddly, improperly young-looking. She stood in the doorway and looked at them, Cousin Georgiana timorous, expectant, behind her. Valancy was so happy she didn't hate her people any more. She could even see a number of good qualities in them that she had never seen before. And she was sorry for them. Her pity made her quite gentle.

"Well, Mother," she said pleasantly.

"So you've come home at last!" said Mrs. Frederick, getting out a handkerchief. She dared not be outraged, but she did not mean to be cheated of her tears.

"Well, not exactly," said Valancy. She threw her bomb. "I thought I ought to drop in and tell you I was married. Last Tuesday night. To Barney Snaith."

Uncle Benjamin bounced up and sat down again.

"God bless my soul," he said dully. The rest seemed turned to stone. Except Cousin Gladys, who turned faint. Aunt Mildred and Uncle Wellington had to help her out to the kitchen.

"She would have to keep up the Victorian traditions," said Valancy, with a grin. She sat down, uninvited, on a chair. Cousin Stickles had begun to sob.

"Is there ONE day in your life that you haven't cried?" asked Valancy curiously.

"Valancy," said Uncle James, being the first to recover the power of utterance, "did you mean what you said just now?"

"I did."

"Do you mean to say that you have actually gone and married - MARRIED - that notorious Barney Snaith - that - that - criminal - that - "

"I have."

"Then," said Uncle James violently, "you are a shameless creature, lost to all sense of propriety and virtue, and I wash my hands entirely of you. I do not want ever to see your face again."

"What have you left to say when I commit murder?" asked Valancy.

Uncle Benjamin again appealed to God to bless his soul.

"That drunken outlaw - that - "

A dangerous spark appeared in Valancy's eyes. They might say what they liked to and of her but they should not abuse Barney.

"Say 'damn' and you'll feel better," she suggested.

"I can express my feelings without blasphemy. And I tell you you have covered yourself with eternal disgrace and infamy by marrying that drunkard - "

"YOU would be more endurable if you got drunk occasionally. Barney is NOT a drunkard."

"He was seen drunk in Port Lawrence - pickled to the gills," said Uncle Benjamin.

"If that is true - and I don't believe it - he had a good reason for it. Now I suggest that you all stop looking tragic and accept the situation. I'm married - you can't undo that. And I'm perfectly happy."

"I suppose we ought to be thankful he has really married her," said Cousin Sarah, by way of trying to look on the bright side.

"If he really has," said Uncle James, who had just washed his hands of Valancy. "Who married you?"

"Mr. Towers, of Port Lawrence."

"By a Free Methodist!" groaned Mrs. Frederick - as if to have been married by an imprisoned Methodist would have been a shade less disgraceful. It was the first thing she had said. Mrs. Frederick didn't know WHAT to say. The whole thing was too horrible - too horrible - too nightmarish. She was sure she must wake up soon. After all their bright hopes at the funeral!

"It makes me think of those what-d'ye-call-'ems," said Uncle Benjamin helplessly. "Those yarns - you know - of fairies taking babies out of their cradles."

"Valancy could hardly be a changeling at twenty-nine," said Aunt Wellington satirically.

"She was the oddest-looking baby I ever saw, anyway," averted Uncle Benjamin. "I said so at the time - you remember, Amelia? I said I had never seen such eyes in a human head."

"I'm glad _I_ never had any children," said Cousin Sarah. "If they don't break your heart in one way they do it in another."

"Isn't it better to have your heart broken than to have it wither up?" queried Valancy. "Before it could be broken it must have felt something splendid. THAT would be worth the pain."

"Dipp - clean dippy," muttered Uncle Benjamin, with a vague, unsatisfactory feeling that somebody had said something like that before.

"Valancy," said Mrs. Frederick solemnly, "do you ever pray to be forgiven for disobeying your mother?"

"I SHOULD pray to be forgiven for obeying you so long," said Valancy stubbornly. "But I don't pray about that at all. I just thank God every day for my happiness."

"I would rather," said Mrs. Frederick, beginning to cry rather belatedly, "see you dead before me than listen to what you have told me today."

Valancy looked at her mother and aunts, and wondered if they could ever have known anything of the real meaning of love. She felt sorrier for them than ever. They were so very pitiable. And they never suspected it.

"Barney Snaith is a scoundrel to have deluded you into marrying him," said Uncle James violently.

"Oh, _I_ did the deluding. I asked HIM to marry me," said Valancy, with a wicked smile.

"Have you NO pride?" demanded Aunt Wellington.

"Lots of it. I am proud that I have achieved a husband by my own unaided efforts. Cousin Georgiana here wanted to help me to Edward Beck."

"Edward Beck is worth twenty thousand dollars and has the finest house between here and Port Lawrence," said Uncle Benjamin.

"That sounds very fine," said Valancy scornfully, "but it isn't worth THAT" - she snapped her fingers - "compared to feeling Barney's arms around me and his cheek against mine."

"OH, Doss!" said Cousin Stickles. Cousin Sarah said, "Oh, DOSS!" Aunt Wellington said, "Valancy, you need not be indecent."

"Why, it surely isn't indecent to like to have your husband put his arm around you? I should think it would be indecent if you didn't."

"Why expect decency from her?" inquired Uncle James sarcastically. "She has cut herself off from decency forevermore. She has made her bed. Let her lie on it."

"Thanks," said Valancy very gratefully. "How you would have enjoyed being Torquemada! Now, I must really be getting back. Mother, may I have those three woollen cushions I worked last winter?"

"Take them - take everything!" said Mrs. Frederick.

"Oh, I don't want everything - or much. I don't want my Blue Castle cluttered. Just the cushions. I'll call for them some day when we motor in."

Valancy rose and went to the door. There she turned. She was sorrier than ever for them all. THEY had no Blue Castle in the purple solitudes of Mistawis.

"The trouble with you people is that you don't laugh enough," she said.

"Doss dear," said Cousin Georgiana mournfully, "some day you will discover that blood is thicker than water."

"Of course it is. But who wants water to be thick?" parried Valancy. "We want water to be thin - sparkling - crystal-clear."

Cousin Stickles groaned.

Valancy would not ask any of them to come and see her - she was afraid they WOULD come out of curiosity. But she said:

"Do you mind if I drop in and see you once in a while, Mother?"

"My house will always be open to you," said Mrs. Frederick, with a mournful dignity.

"You should never recognise her again," said Uncle James sternly, as the door closed behind Valancy.

"I cannot quite forget that I am a mother," said Mrs. Frederick. "My poor, unfortunate girl!"

"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."