The Touch of Fate Page #3

by Lucy Maud Montgomery is a poignant exploration of love, destiny, and the intertwining of human lives. Set against the backdrop of the picturesque landscapes of Prince Edward Island, the story follows the protagonist as she navigates the complexities of relationships and the choices that shape her fate. With Montgomery's characteristic warmth and insight into human emotions, the narrative delves into themes of longing, serendipity, and the power of hope, ultimately revealing how fate can lead individuals to unexpected and transformative paths.

• Short story

								

unmistakable way.

One night Spencer did not come to Lone Poplar Villa. Violet looked for
him to the last. When she realized that he was not coming she went to
the verandah to have it out with herself. As she sat huddled up in a
dim corner beneath a silkily rustling western maple two M.P.s came out
and, not seeing her, went on with their conversation.

"Heard about Spencer?" questioned one.

"No. What of him?"

"Well, they say Miss Thayer's thrown him over. Yesterday I was passing
here about four in the afternoon and I saw Spencer coming in. I went
down to the Land Office and was chatting to Cribson when the door
opened about half an hour later and Spencer burst in. He was pale as
the dead, and looked wild. 'Has Fyshe gone to Rainy River about those
Crown Lands yet?' he jerked out. Cribson said, 'No.' Then tell him he
needn't; I'm going myself,' said Spencer and out he bolted. He posted
off to Rainy River today, and won't be back for a fortnight. She'll be
gone then."

"Rather rough on Spencer after the way she encouraged him," returned
the other as they passed out of earshot.

Violet got up. All the callers were gone, and she swept in to Mrs.
Hill dramatically.

"Edith," she said in the cold, steady voice that, to those who knew
her, meant breakers ahead for somebody, "Mr. Spencer was here
yesterday when I was riding with the Major, was he not? What did you
tell him about me?"

Mrs. Hill looked at Violet's blazing eyes and wilted.

"I--didn't tell him anything--much."

"What was it?"

Mrs. Hill began to sob.

"Don't look at me like that, Violet! He just dropped in and we were
talking about you--at least I was--and I had heard that Harry St. Maur
was paying you marked attention before you came west--and--and that
some people thought you were engaged--and so--and so--"

"You told Mr. Spencer that I was engaged to Harry St. Maur?"

"No-o-o--I just hinted. I didn't mean an-any harm. I never dreamed
you'd really c-care. I thought you were just amusing yourself--and so
did everybody--and I wanted Ned Madison--"

Violet had turned very pale.

"I love him," she said hoarsely, "and you've sent him away. He's gone
to Rainy River. I shall never see him again!"

"Oh, yes, you will," gasped Mrs. Hill faintly. "He'll come back when
he knows--you c-can write and tell him--"

"Do you suppose I am going to write and ask him to come back?" said
Violet wildly. "I've enough pride left yet to keep me from doing that
for a man at whose head I've thrown myself openly--yes, openly, and
who has never, in words at least, told me he cared anything about me.
I will never forgive you, Edith!"

Then Mrs. Hill found herself alone with her lacerated feelings. After
soothing them with a good cry, she set to work thinking seriously.
There was no doubt she had muddled things badly, but there was no use
leaving them in a muddle when a word or two fitly spoken might set
them straight.

Mrs. Hill sat down and wrote a very diplomatic letter before she went
to bed, and the next morning she waylaid Sergeant Fox and asked him if
he would ride down to Rainy River with a very important message for
Mr. Spencer. Sergeant Fox wondered what it could be, but it was not
his to reason why; it was his only to mount and ride with all due
speed, for Mrs. Hill's whims and wishes were as stringent and binding
as the rules of the force.

That evening when Mrs. Hill and Violet--the latter very silent and
regal--were sitting on the verandah, a horseman came galloping up the
Rainy River trail. Mrs. Hill excused herself and went in. Five minutes
later John Spencer, covered with the alkali dust of his twenty miles'
ride, dismounted at Violet's side.

       *       *       *       *       *

The M.P.s gave a concert at the barracks that night and Mrs. Hill and
her Major went to it, as well as everyone else of any importance in
town except Violet and Spencer. They sat on Major Hill's verandah and
watched the moon rising over the bluffs and making milk-white
reflections in the prairie lakes.

"It seems a year of misery since last night," sighed Violet happily.

"You couldn't have been quite as miserable as I was," said Spencer
earnestly. "You were everything--absolutely everything to me. Other
men have little rills and driblets of affection for sisters and
cousins and aunts, but everything in me went out to you. Do you
remember you told me the first time we met that love would be a
revelation to me? It has been more. It has been a new gospel. I hardly
dared hope you could care for me. Even yet I don't know why you do."

"I love you," said Violet gravely, "because you are you."

Than which, of course, there could be no better reason.
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