“Maud, pay attention to your pedal and hand coordination,” Mrs. Spurr said. “Let’s take another look at ‘Abide with Me.’ It’s such a common hymn that you’ll need to know it if you are ever asked to play. You need”—she cleared her throat and looked over at her son, who was studiously keeping his eyes on the book—“to focus.”
“Sorry,” Maud mumbled. She realized how much she had forgotten. Between relearning how to read music, and having to remember how to coordinate her hands playing the keys and her feet pumping the pedals, she could already feel the strain in her neck. But, as she straightened her back to reposition herself on the bench, her eye caught the lyrics to the hymn and she smiled. “I love these words, Mrs. Spurr. ‘Shine through the gloom and point me to the skies.’?”
“They are lovely, aren’t they?” Her organ teacher smiled. “But do what you can to ignore them for now, and focus on the music.”
Maud tried, but ignoring words was like ignoring the color of the sky on a summer’s day: impossible.
Nate wasn’t helping. She pumped; he flipped a page. She played; he tapped his foot.
“I think we are done today, Maud,” Mrs. Spurr said after half an hour of dreadful music. “Try to practice your coordination for next week.”
Mrs. Spurr led Maud to the door and wished her good night. As she turned the corner to walk down the hill toward the Haunted Woods, Nate whistled and appeared behind her.
“Shall I carry your sheet music?” he said.
“I’m perfectly capable of handling my music,” she said.
“Oh, you are perfectly capable of handling most things.” The way he said it made her wonder if she was capable of even looking him in the eye without giggling.
“But what would my mother or the local ladies say about my character if I allowed you to carry your own things?” he said.
Somehow Maud found her footing. “What would the local ladies say about my character if they saw us walking together?”
Nate paused at the top of the hill. “Why should we care?” he said. Maud thought about what Clemmie had said, and about how her grandparents were finally relaxing after the journal episode. And, yet, the way Nate was looking at her now—with a little smile—and their easy banter wore her down: she found herself handing him her sheet music.
It was one of those autumn afternoons when the warmth of the sun teased a person into thinking winter would never come. They walked in silence for a little while, the wind caressing the leaves, causing them to gently fall, one by one. They turned up the path past David Macneill’s farm.
“I’ve been very curious about your thoughts on Undine,” he said. “I was right, wasn’t I? It is a Maud book. Particularly because you still have it.”
Maud had kept the novel because she enjoyed it so much—and the notes he had left in the margins. It had helped her after she’d burned the journal. Certain books, including Little Women, saved her, giving her permission to forget her troubles. And with Nate borrowing her copy, she found Undine a welcome distraction. “I did find it quite delicious. Particularly the predicament Undine has put herself in. Keeping secrets to save yourself, and all for lo—” She stopped herself then and felt the heat of the late afternoon sun strong on her cheeks.
“I think we can all relate to that,” he said. His hand grazed hers. She reluctantly moved her hand away.
“I noticed you were reading Little Women,” Maud said. “Was I right? Not a ‘girl’s book.’?”
Nate chuckled. “Well, there are certainly parts of it that I think only you women would understand, such as when Meg goes to Vanity Fair. But, I must admit I appreciated the Pickwick Portfolio. We should see if Miss Gordon would be up to having our own newspaper—”
“Or some kind of club where we write stories,” Maud interjected.
“Exactly,” he said, and for a little while Maud forgot her nervousness as the two of them talked about the stories they were working on for Miss Gordon and the Montreal Witness. She was going to write about the Marco Polo shipwreck that had happened when she was little.
When they reached the end of Lover’s Lane, Nate stopped and said, “Will you be going to the Reverend Mr. Carruthers’s talk?”
“Oh, I don’t know,” Maud said, remembering how Pensie was now going with Quill.
“It’s sure to be quite an interesting evening,” he continued. They were standing under one of her favorite trees.
“Pensie and Mollie told me about it, but it depends if my grandparents will allow it.” Maybe Grandma would let her go. “I’ll try.”
Nate grinned. “Perhaps I’ll have the opportunity to escort you home?”
He certainly had such lovely freckles.
“Perhaps,” she said.
CHAPTER TEN
You must come and stay with me the night of the lecture, Mollie wrote on her slate the following day when Maud told her about the walk home with Nate. They were supposed to be reading about British history while Miss Gordon was attending to the second levels, but they were writing notes instead.
My grandparents might not let me go, Maud wrote.
But they must!
Would your parents mind? Maud didn’t want to say, but she wondered if Mollie’s father would be well by then. But Mollie didn’t have the same concerns.
Absolutely not! She grabbed Maud’s hand and whispered, “It will be as much fun as a moonlight dance on the shore. We’ll stay up and talk all night!”
“Maybe I can convince them.” But Maud wasn’t convinced herself.
Ask your grandparents tonight, Mollie wrote.
During dinner that evening, Maud waited for the right moment. Grandfather was in a good mood. The post office had been very busy, so he had caught up on all of the Island news and was regaling them with stories. Providence might be on her side.
While Grandma nodded along as Grandfather spoke, Maud could see that she was a bit distracted and had dark circles under her eyes. Maud had heard her pacing last night, and she had wondered whether her grandmother was trying to decide what to do with her—how to get rid of her. But it didn’t appear as if a decision had been made, so when Grandfather paused to eat, Maud took a deep breath. “Did you know that the Reverend Mr. Carruthers is giving a lecture at the Cavendish Hall this weekend?”
“Yes,” Grandma said. “Why do you ask?”
Gathering her courage, Maud spoke with as much force as she could. “May I go?”
Grandma and Grandfather exchanged a look.
“I don’t think so, Maud,” Grandma said. “We aren’t sure what kind of nonsense this reverend will advocate, and you are quite impressionable.”
The fine evening she and Mollie had planned was slipping away. Clemmie and her crowd would be there, since their parents would certainly allow them to attend. She had to find a way to convince her grandparents.
“Grandma, Grandfather,” Maud said, nodding at each of them. “Mo-Amanda will be there, and we had planned for me to stay with her.” She could hardly tolerate the whine in her own voice. “Pensie is going as well.” Maud wisely said nothing about Quill.