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Updated: May 6, 2025
O gods! how Pogson's hand shook as he filled and offered her the glass! What took place during the rest of the evening had better be described by Mr. Pogson himself, who has given us permission to publish his letter. "DEAR TIT, I arrived at Cally, as they call it, this day, or, rather, yesterday; for it is past midnight, as I sit thinking of a wonderful adventure that has just befallen me.
Never, it seemed, had papa been tenderer or more affectionate than in these bedside visits: so that Cally, with her sense of a guilty secret, could hardly bear to look at his kind, worried face. And she had opened her eyes on the day of wellness with the knowledge that she must put her hand to this cloud now, though she brought down the skies with it.
Agitating such matters as these, Cally Heth got into bed and pulled up the covers. She repelled the thought of the Works, as she had done, all evening. Nevertheless the last thing she thought of as she dropped off to sleep was Dr. Vivian, as he stood and looked up at her from the dingy sidewalk.
Through these days Cally hadn't seemed to care that Jack Dalhousie had killed himself, hadn't cared if the constrained tone of Mattie Allen's "steamer-letter" which said that Mattie was terribly sorry, dear, but was vague as to what indicated that the Heth glories had undergone a great and permanent eclipse.
And so Hugo Canning, abruptly widowed at a railway station, was left to toss wakefully that night, ridden by deepening anxieties.... For Cally had carried her extraordinary point; now that Jack Dalhousie was henceforward indifferent to all these matters.
And no matter what else happens to me, I'll love you till I die." "Don't look so glum, Mr. Watkins dear," said Cally. They did not go to any matinee on the last afternoon, the reason being that it was Monday and there weren't any, except the vaudevilles, which were voted tiresome. Carlisle was to leave at ten o'clock.
"Patty!" said Great Fern for him, and made a gesture disdaining more cards. O Lalala scrutinized his face as the sailor the heavens in a storm, and then studied the visages of all his backers. He closed his eyes a moment. Then, "My cally!" he said, as he pushed a great heap of toendstikkers onto the cane mat. The kava-drinkers grew black with excitement.
Hen, who had been strolling about the tall chamber and peeking into the instrument cabinet, noted the young man's guarded tone; and she wondered how many times V.V. and her cousin Cally had met, and what part he had played in all that affair, and in general what these two thought of each other. "Well, she's certainly in much better spirits than when I had the note from her in July.
The Cooneys' door was opened, after the delay usual with the poor, by Henrietta herself, this moment returned from the bookstore. Hen wore her hat, but not her coat, and it was to be observed that one hand held a hot-water bottle, imperfectly concealed behind her back. "Hurrah! Cally!" cried she. "We were talking of you at dinner to-day, wondering what had become of you.
What Sir Galahad among men was proof against such a tripping in the presence of lovely and irresistible temptation?... "Hortense gave you no notice at all?" she demanded out of a dream. "Did you ever? Why, honestly, Cally ..." He was to pause once again, to bid the Paynes farewell, on his final progress back to what he had once called lights and home.
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