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Updated: May 2, 2025
It was the first of August before a host of servants came to put Dalveigh in habitable order, and a week later the family came. They brought a houseful of guests with them. At sunset on the day of her arrival Nora Shelley looked out cross the harbour to the fishing village. She was tired after her journey, and she had not meant to go over until the morning, but now she knew she must go at once.
Laughter and song of the fishing folk were behind them, and the deep, solemn call of the sea before. Over the harbour gleamed the score of lights at Dalveigh. Rob looked from them to Nora. "Do you think you'll ever regret yon life, my girl?" "Never, Rob. It seems to me now like a beautiful garment put on for a holiday and worn easily and pleasantly for a time.
Her husband was a small, white-haired man, with a fresh, young-looking face. He was popular in Racicot, for he mingled freely with the sailors and fishermen. Moreover, Dalveigh was an excellent market for fresh mackerel. Nathan Shelley, in his favourite corner behind the stove, sat lurching forward with his hands on his knees. He had laid aside his pipe out of deference to Mrs.
There was something wrong with a man who read books when there was a plenty of other amusements. Jacob Radnor had read books all one winter and had drowned himself in the spring jumped overboard from his dory at the herring nets. And that was what came of books, mark you. The Camerons came later to Dalveigh the next summer, on account of John Cameron's health, which was not good.
Nora and Rob did not meet until the next evening, when she rowed herself home from Dalveigh. He was at the shore to tie up her boat and help her out. They walked up the sands together in the heart of the autumn sunset, with the northwest wind whistling in their ears and the great star of the lighthouse gleaming wanly out against the golden sky. Nora felt uncomfortable, and resented it.
But there'll never be any other for me, Nora." He left her at her father's door. She watched his stalwart figure out of sight around the point, and raged to find tears in her eyes and a bitter yearning in her heart. For a moment she repented she would stay she could not go. Then over the harbour flashed out the lights of Dalveigh. The life behind them glittered, allured, beckoned.
I thought maybe you wouldn't want to see me tonight." "Not want to see you! Oh, Rob, this evening at Dalveigh, when I looked across to Racicot, it was you I thought of before all even before Mother." She drew back and looked at him with her soul in her eyes. "What a splendid fellow you are how handsome you are, Rob!" she cried.
John Cameron, childless millionaire, had built a summer cottage on that point two years ago, and given it the name of the old ancestral estate in Scotland. To the Racicot fishing folk the house and grounds were as a dream of enchantment made real. Few of them had ever seen anything like it. Nora Shelley knew Dalveigh well.
And we do not take her from you utterly. You will see her every summer when we come to Dalveigh." "It won't be the same thing quite," said Nathan Shelley drily. "She'll belong to your life then not ours. And no matter how many young ones folks has, they don't want to lose none of 'em. But I dunno as we ought to let our feelings stand in Nora's light.
In the Shelley kitchen the family was gathered around the table, when the door was flung open and Nora stood on the threshold. For a moment they gazed at her as at an apparition. They had not known the precise day of her coming and were not aware of the Camerons' arrival at Dalveigh. "It's the girl herself. It's Nora," said old Nathan, rising from his bench. "Mother!" cried Nora.
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