CHAPTER I.

LADY-BIRD.

"THERE'S a leak somewhere!" was the emphatic exclamation of Mrs. Mercy Lovell. "I, of course, have my own opinion where it is, but that's neither here nor there. 'Tisn't my way to state my opinions in a hurry."

Mrs. Lovell had reached the house of her nephew the evening previous to that day on which I have so unceremoniously introduced her to my reader, and having been invited to a tour of reconnoisance through the spacious mansion, had, on her return to the dining-hall, given expression to the prudent remark,—

"There's a leak somewhere!"

Mrs. Everett, wife to her nephew, stood daintily holding up her nicely-embroidered morning wrapper, gazing in the old lady's face with an air of solicitude and wonder.

"What do you know of the servants, child?" inquired Aunt Mercy, condescending to smile as she saw with what reverence her opinion had been received. "Very little, except that the cook makes splendid coffee and muffins. She has only been here three days, and breakfast is the only meal we have taken at home."

"Goodness sakes! Why, I should be crazy with so much going abroad. Once a month is as much as I ever go out to take a social cup of tea with a neighbor, but that don't stop the leak. Who's that finikin-looking creature that handed round the coffee this morning? Is she honest and faithful to her business?"

"I suppose so. She waits on the table beautifully. She's been here ever since we commenced keeping house, and she was the one who recommended the new cook. Mamma says we must try and keep her, she does up my dresses so nicely."

"Well, what kind of a cook did you have before?"

The young bride laughed merrily.

"Oh, such a funny-looking woman,—nearly as broad as she was long. Lawrence insists she fatted on our butter; for loads of it were brought into the house; and yet she was always coming to me with the complaint, 'There's no butter, ma'am.' I declare," with a heavy sigh, "I had no idea being married brought so much care."

"What did you say to her? Did you insist on knowing what she had done with it?"

"I insist!" There was a merry peal of laughter like the tinkling of silver bells. "Oh, Aunt Mercy, you're not in earnest! I told her to send Tom to the grocer's for more, and not trouble me."

"And who is Tom?"

"Now I can tell you. He's a boy, or man I suppose he'd call himself, since he sports mustachios, whom papa found at some out-of-the-way place. He had been taken up for stealing bread, because he was so very hungry, you know; and papa pitied him, and paid the fine, and took him home, where he's been ever since till I was married; and then mamma gave him up to me. I must have somebody to do errands, you know; and mamma could spare him because the coachman is good-natured and is willing to do such things."

"Have you any more servants?"

"No; Lawrence laughed at the idea of three being necessary to wait upon two of us, but mamma thought I ought to have a woman for myself."

"A woman! What for, pray?"

"Why, a dressing-woman, of course. A French woman is best,—one who can dress hair, and is skilful about the toilet."

"If you can't dress your own hair, you are not as smart as I am. I never had anybody touch a comb to my head since I can remember," said Aunt Mercy, decidedly.

Lily glanced at the stiff pug on the back of the old lady's head, and again the peal of music echoed through the rooms. Laughter is always contagious; and Mrs. Lovell's risibles were not proof against the appeal, even though she shrewdly suspected herself to be the object of it.

"Well," she said, pursing her mouth, "I think we shall come at the bottom of the leak by and by. I may as well go to my chamber and get my knitting,—I suppose you have some work,—and we can talk the subject over."

Lily colored a very little as she answered,—

"I scarcely know how to sew. I mean to learn by and by. Lawrence was so surprised when he asked me to sew a button on his shirt that I rang for Ann to do it. He said he thought girls learned to sew as soon as they could walk."

The old lady stopped short and gazed at her niece over the top of her glasses as if she were a new and curious specimen of the animal kingdom that ought to be critically examined.

"For mercy's sake, child, do tell what you can do with yourself from morning till night!"

Lily threw herself into a chair laughing till the tears stood in her eyes.

"Why, you see," she answered, when she could speak, "I only left school two months before I was married; and then my time was all taken up with French and Italian and music. I finished the regular course a year before, but mamma wanted me to be very learned,—" another laugh,—"and then I had Monsieur Follywasher three times a week for my dancing-lesson."

"Goodness! If I'd been your ma, I wouldn't have trusted you with a man who had such a heathenish name for nothing. Pray, what did you want of a dancing-master? You float round anyhow just like one of the fairies I've read of."

"Monsieur Follywasher would say I owed it to him if I move gracefully. He's a Frenchman, though his grandfather was a German, as his name denotes. He's the sweetest, dearest man, with such cunning little whiskers, perfumed up so nicely. All the girls were in love with him."

"Were you?" The gaze was almost stern this time.

"I! Oh, no, indeed! Why, Lawrence had been waiting on me a year; besides, I don't mean exactly in love, only they admired him excessively. He's so handsome and graceful!"

"I don't see how you ever fell in love with Lawrence. I always thought he was the plainest-featured of any of my nephews; and none of 'em would be taken for Apollo."

"Oh, Aunt Mercy, you're too funny! Why, I think Lawrence is splendid. He's got such great black eyes, and such a heavy, curling beard,—I'm very proud of his beard,—and then when he smiles, he shows his elegant teeth. The girls used to wonder I was not afraid of him,—and he is sober, but he always smiles for me. I had ever so many beaus," she rattled on. "Papa is rich, you know, and I'm his only child; and then I'm not particularly ugly, I suppose," she added, with a pretty tinge of rose coloring her lily cheek, "but I never liked anybody till I saw Lawrence."

The old lady gazed at the pretty creature for a moment in silence, and then, recalling the subject with which they began, remarked, gravely,—

"I suppose you carry the keys."

"What keys, Aunt Mercy?"

"Why, the keys to the store-closet where the sugar and raisins and eggs are kept, and the keys to your bureau where you put your laces and rings, and all such finery."

Lily's eyes were opened wider than ever. She arched her delicate eyebrows as she inquired, eagerly,—

"What should I want of keys to the store-room? I don't even know whether there are locks on the doors. If there are, I suppose cook and Tom attend to them. Ann, of course, puts away my jewels; and she is responsible for their safekeeping."

"Well, well," was the horrified exclamation, "I'm beat now! Why, the biggest fortune in Europe—and they say the Rothschilds' is the biggest—couldn't hold out no time against such goings-on!"

Here the old lady, fearing she should say something she ought not, hurried to her room for her knitting. In a few minutes there was a loud peal at the bell, and, peering through the closed blinds, Mrs. Lovell saw an elegant carriage, two prancing black mares, and a liveried driver at the door. An elegantly dressed lady sat within the carriage, giving directions to the footman, whom she had sent to the door.

"Mrs. Everett is at home," the old lady heard him say as he let down the steps for her to alight.

"Mamma, come up to my room, please," called Lily, over the balusters.

"So that's Mrs. Percival," said the old lady, with a sigh. "Why, she's dressed out like a duchess! And what a carriage! Two servants, too, as respectable-looking men as there are in our town. I should think they'd be ashamed of themselves, spending their lives so. Just look now at that great popinjay getting up behind. Well, well! It does beat all. Little I thought, when I used to give Lawrence a piece of short-cake for bringing in wood, that he'd cut such a dash as this."

Her reverie was cut short by a quick knock at her door. And Lily, with a tiny hat shading her beaming face, hastened in to say,—

"What will you do with yourself, Aunt Mercy? Mamma has called to take me out for a drive, but I'll be sure to come home before Lawrence leaves the store. He pretends, foolish fellow, that he likes to have me open the door for him."

Oh, how the light sparkled from her eyes as she said this! Then she added, thoughtful of her duties to her guest,—

"Will you ring the bell and order lunch whenever you wish it? I shall stop with mamma to see a friend."

"La! Don't you worry about me," returned Aunt Mercy, much pleased to be even thought of under the circumstances. "I'll find enough to do; I shall hunt up Lawrence's stockings, and darn the holes. I'll take care of myself, never fear."

Lily bent down and pressed her rosy lips to the old lady's cheek. It was a trifling, every-day act, but somehow it made Aunt Mercy's eyes grow dim.

"She's a sweet, beguiling creature," she repeated to herself, rising and walking to the window to see the last of them, "but she's no more fit than a new-born babe to be trusted with a house."

Lily ran lightly down the steps, nodding pleasantly both to the coachman and footman, who were old family servants, and then followed her mamma into the carriage. Mrs. Lovell lost not one motion until the carriage rolled away from the door, and then she sat down to her knitting to compose her thoughts.

"Well, well," she said to herself, "no wonder Adam ate the apple, if Eve gave it to him with a smile like Lily's! She's pretty as a picter, but that don't make her fit to keep house."