CHAPTER VIII

shehadnofuturebutbecauseshehadnopast. “I’mpoor—I’mugly—I’mafailure—andI’mneardeath,”shethought.ShecouldseeherownobituarynoticeintheDeerwoodWeeklyTimes,copiedintothePortLawrenceJournal.“AdeepgloomwascastoverDeerwood,etc.,etc.”—“leavesalargecircleoffriendstomourn,etc.,etc.,etc.”—lies,alllies.Gloom,forsooth!Nobodywouldmissher.Herdeathwouldnotmatterastrawtoanybody.Notevenhermotherlovedher—hermotherwhohadbeensodisappointedthatshewasnotaboy—oratleast,aprettygirl. Valancyreviewedherwholelifebetweenmidnightandtheearlyspringdawn.Itwasaverydrabexistence,buthereandthereanincidentloomedoutwithasignificanceoutofallproportiontoitsrealimportance.Theseincidentswereallunpleasantinonewayoranother.NothingreallypleasanthadeverhappenedtoValancy. “I’veneverhadonewhollyhappyhourinmylife—notone,”shethought.“I’vejustbeenacolourlessnonentity.Irememberreadingsomewhereoncethatthereisanhourinwhichawomanmightbehappyallherlifeifshecouldbutfindit.I’veneverfoundmyhour—never,never.AndIneverwillnow.IfIcouldonlyhavehadthathourI’dbewillingtodie.” Thosesignificantincidentskeptbobbingupinhermindlikeunbiddenghosts,withoutanysequenceoftimeorplace.Forinstance,thattimewhen,atsixteen,shehadbluedatubfulofclothestoodeeply.Andthetimewhen,ateight,shehad“stolen”someraspberryjamfromAuntWellington’spantry.Valancyneverheardthelastofthosetwomisdemeanours.Atalmosteveryclangatheringtheywererakedupagainstherasjokes.UncleBenjaminhardlyevermissedre-tellingtheraspberryjamincident—hehadbeentheonetocatchher,herfaceallstainedandstreaked. “Ihavereallydonesofewbadthingsthattheyhavetokeepharpingontheoldones,”thoughtValancy.“Why,I’veneverevenhadaquarrelwithanyone.Ihaven’tanenemy.WhataspinelessthingImustbenottohaveevenoneenemy!” Therewasthatincidentofthedust-pileatschoolwhenshewasseven.ValancyalwaysrecalleditwhenDr.Stallingreferredtothetext,“Tohimthathathshallbegivenandfromhimthathathnotshallbetakeneventhatwhichhehath.”OtherpeoplemightpuzzleoverthattextbutitneverpuzzledValancy.ThewholerelationshipbetweenherselfandOlive,datingfromthedayofthedust-pile,wasacommentaryonit. Shehadbeengoingtoschoolayear,butOlive,whowasayearyounger,hadjustbegunandhadaboutheralltheglamourof“anewgirl”andanexceedinglyprettygirlatthat.Itwasatrecessandallthegirls,bigandlittle,wereoutontheroadinfrontoftheschoolmakingdust-piles.Theaimofeachgirlwastohavethebiggestpile.Valancywasgoodatmakingdust-piles—therewasanartinit—andshehadsecrethopesofleading.ButOlive,workingoffbyherself,wassuddenlydiscoveredtohavealargerdust-pilethananybody.Valancyfeltnojealousy.Herdust-pilewasquitebigenoughtopleaseher.Thenoneoftheoldergirlshadaninspiration. “Let’sputallourdustonOlive’spileandmakeatremendousone,”sheexclaimed. Afrenzyseemedtoseizethegirls.Theyswoopeddownonthedust-pileswithpailsandshovelsandinafewsecondsOlive’spilewasaveritablepyramid.