Chapter 2 of 18 · 2801 words · ~14 min read

CHAPTER II.

THE RECONNOISANCE.

AUNT MERCY'S thoughts kept her busy for an hour, her stocking, meanwhile, growing visibly. Then she started up for a visit to the kitchen.

"I wonder who ordered dinner," she said to herself, as she went down the broad staircase.

The table was spread in the kitchen with cold ham, spring chicken, an egg omelet, and hot coffee. And around it sat cook, Ann, Tom, and a hugely-whiskered stranger, partaking of the highly-seasoned viands with great relish.

To say that Mrs. Lovell was surprised would but feebly express her feelings, as, with one quick glance, she took in the whole scene. But she was far too shrewd to allow this to be perceived, and merely saying to the cook, "Mrs. Everett will dine at home to-day," passed on through the kitchen to a large pantry beyond.

She had already visited this apartment once, in company with her niece, but now everything wore a different aspect. Cook joined her instantly, her cheeks glowing like fire.

"It's not what I'm used to," she began, in a loud tone, "to have company intrude on my apartments. If ye want lunch, I'll send Tom with it to yer order. Mrs. Everett is the mistress here; and I'll not have two to dale with!"

Aunt Mercy had already spied an elegant damask napkin protruding from a drawer under the dressers, and deigning no answer to this harangue, except a momentary stare over her glasses, deliberately proceeded to make a more thorough search of the premises than she had thought it prudent to do in the presence of her niece. Pulling open, therefore, the broad, deep drawer, she found the napkin used to enfold half a dozen of the delicate muffins admired so much at the breakfast-table; underneath it were two long, damask table-covers of the finest quality, soiled and stained with fruit, four damask towels, one fine linen pillow-case, the delicate lace ruffle torn from contact with a nail in the drawer, and lastly a loaf of frosted cake.

Without one word of comment, and proceeding as calmly as if the inspection were an every-day affair, Mrs. Lovell throw one after another of the soiled articles across her arm, as totally unmindful of the abuse and coarse invectives Bridget was heaping on her head as she would have been of the buzzing of a fly.

By this time Ann and her associates had pushed back their chairs from their disturbed luncheon, and were waiting to see what would follow. The muffins were placed on a plate in the dresser, and a net cover put over them, the frosted cake carefully deposited in a tin box standing empty on a chair, and then the old lady said, calmly,—

"Ann, wont you get me a small tub? I'll show you how to take the stains from these table-covers while cook prepares my luncheon."

Turning to the latter, who stood, her arms akimbo, casting defiant glances first at her and then at her companions, she said,—

"Make me a cup of tea,—oolong, if you have it; one spoonful will do, and send it up on a tray with a slice of ham and the muffins you'll find in the cupboard."

"Sure as yer alive, the old critter's deaf!" murmured the stranger, in a low voice, to Ann.

"Look here!" said Mrs. Lovell, carefully gathering all the stains into her hand and laying them in the tub. "Pour boiling water on the spots, and repeat as often as it cools. Then dry them, and they'll be ready for the wash."

Casting her eyes to the table, she saw that one of the best covers had been used, and she said, coolly,—

"You'd better do that cloth at the same time. I see it has strawberry stains on it."

She waited until Ann brought the large kettle from the range and poured on the water, and then, with another glance around the room, walked up-stairs, taking the box of fruit-cake with her.

"Well, well!" she thought. "Sure enough, I've begun to find the leak. 'Twould take more than the Rothschilds' money to support such extravagance. 'Twill be the ruin of Lawrence before he's a year older. Goodness sakes! How that woman did rave! Frosted cake, coffee, and jellies! I'm beat now!"

She sat waiting in the dining-room for her lunch to be served, and might have waited a month, but for a step in the hall, and a voice, calling,—

"Lily, my Lady-bird, where are you?"

"Lily's gone out to ride," explained Aunt Mercy, hurrying to the door. "She'll be terribly disappointed though; she calculated on being at home before you came."

It was evident the husband was keenly disappointed, but he made an effort to conceal it.

"I hurried through my business," he said, "to come home and lunch with you both. Have you ordered anything?"

"Yes,—a cup of tea and some cold ham. There is coffee and muffins below, and chickens, if they are not all eaten up."

He rang the bell with a quick jerk.

"Bring up lunch for two," he said, as Tom made his appearance,—"the best you have."

Ann came at once to lay the table.

"You may set the teapot by my plate," said Mrs. Lovell. "I'll pour out and wait on my nephew, so you can go on with your work."

She spoke pleasantly, but Ann looked sullen, and made no reply. The old lady had determined to improve the opportunity to enlighten her nephew in regard to the want of proper management in the kitchen department. As soon as they were alone, he opened the conversation at once.

"Well, Aunt Mercy, how do you like my Lady-bird?"

"I think she's the sweetest, dearest, most beguiling creature I ever did see!" responded Mrs. Lovell, warmly. "Why, only think! She came to bid me good-by when there was the beautifullest carriage waiting for her,—and she actually kissed me too!"

"That was because you'd been praising me, I suppose," he answered, laughing.

"No, I told her you were thought to favor me; that you were the homeliest of all my nephews, but she wouldn't agree to that. It's no kind o' use to repeat what she did say, 'cause she makes no secret of it I take it. I've been a-wondering whether Eve was any like her; 'cause if she was—"

"You think I'd eat the apple," he said, interrupting her. "Well, I see she's made a convert of you, and I'm glad to see my two best friends understand each other. I never shall forget what you've been to me, Aunt Mercy. I've told the story to Lily, and she's all ready to love you as well as I do."

The old lady coughed and choked. Not all Bridget's invectives had moved her as those simple words did. But the meal was almost finished, and she had not yet hinted at the subject she wished.

"I wonder what Mrs. Percival could be thinking of, to let her daughter be married till she'd learned how to manage a family. Why, Lily, pretty as she is, knows no more about what's going on in the house than a china doll."

"I suppose I must take the blame of that," returned Mr. Everett, while a little cloud rested on his brow. "I thought she'd learn better when she saw the necessity for it, and so she will with a few hints from you. She's as light-hearted as a bird, and I would not have her otherwise for all the money in this rich city. But, as I wrote you, housekeeping is a ruinous business to a young man."

"There's a dreadful leak somewhere!" she remarked, gravely. "And it must be stopped."

"Yes," he continued, "I'm convinced that it costs us more than it need to, even to live in style, but how to manage is the question. My Lady-bird knows absolutely nothing about economy, and how she is to learn it without troubling her pretty self is a problem I should like to see solved."

"It's plain there must be a head to such an establishment as this, Lawrence."

She then proceeded to give him, in brief, the result of her morning reconnoisance.

He bit his lip with anger, rose and paced the room, saying,—

"I shall be ruined if we go on at this rate. Say, Aunt Mercy, what can be done?"

"I've thought it all over," she said, "while I was waiting here by myself. 'Tisn't very convenient, but if it's duty, it must be done. I've set out to find the leak, and when I do, I think I can contrive to stop it. I'll write home to Caroline to shut up the house and go back to her mother's, and I'll remain and right things up, but first I must have authority from you and Lily, so that the servants will obey me."

He answered by ringing the bell.

"Tom," he said, when the youth appeared, "my aunt, Mrs. Lovell, will give you directions for the future. You will go to market under her instruction, and you may repeat what I say to Bridget and Ann."

The old lady had her eye on Tom when the order was given. She was convinced that her first opinion of him was correct.

Mr. Everett sat a few moments talking with his aunt, then wandered restlessly to the parlor, to see whether Lily was net in sight. Though absent from her but a few hours, he longed for a glimpse of her bright face. He ran up to her chamber, and presently called at the stairs,—

"Aunt Mercy, come up here!"

It was the old lady's first peep into that sanctuary, and, for a moment, she stood at the entrance, her keen eye glancing quickly from one object to another.

The house was built by an old nabob on his return from a long sojourn in the Indies, and this room was especially fitted up for his young bride. On one side of the apartment the floor was raised about a foot and covered with marble of different colors set in mosaic. Upon this platform stood the bedstead covered with elaborately-wrought lace depending from a gilded scroll fastened to the ceiling. Curtains of lace and delicately-tinted rose damask partially concealed the windows. Chairs and lounges stood inviting the weary to repose; a costly mirror, reaching nearly to the ceiling and resting on gilded brackets, was flanked on each side by gilded statues holding lights for gas, while the toilet-table and its belongings were wonders of art. The young husband stood in the doorway leading to the dressing-room, a complacent smile hovering over his features as he witnessed Aunt Mercy's gaze of astonishment, and then said,—

"Come in here; it was to show you this I called you."

"It is very, very beautiful. It is like a fairy tale," she murmured, slowly advancing, "but—"

"I know what you would say," he exclaimed, interrupting her, "and it is a question I sometimes ask myself: Can I, ought I, to start in life so luxuriously? Lily has been used to all this from her birth, and scarcely notices it. I do not believe she depends on costly surroundings for happiness, but I love to see her in the midst of beauty, and I think I can afford it. One thing is certain: I have not run in debt. Your teachings have proved too powerful for that. Now rest in that chair, and let me show you something."

He lifted a book bound in velvet from the table and raised the clasps with reverence. There was a worked book-mark carefully laid in at the twelfth chapter of Exodus, and to this he turned.

"This was my bridal gift to my Lady-bird," he said, speaking her name tenderly,—"the one she says she prizes most. Dear little girl! Among all her gay accomplishments, she had never been taught the Bible's blessed truths. I told her how I loved this book, and what I hoped it had done for me; that the warnings I found here had saved me from becoming what most of all she loathes,—a profligate; that its invitations had led me to One better than any earthly friend, because his love bestows all blessing. 'If you will learn to love the Bible,' I said, 'our affection, begun in this world, will go on ripening through all eternity.'

"She looked full of wonder as she exclaimed, 'I always thought the Bible would make one gloomy.'

"'But you don't call me gloomy,' I said, smiling.

"'Oh, no, indeed! I will read it and love it, if it will make me like you.'

"Since that, she has never left her room in the morning till she has read a chapter. See, this was what she read this morning. All the time I was dressing, she was talking to me about it. I can't help thinking that the Spirit of God is moving on her heart; and oh, what a Christian she would make! So full of enthusiasm and soul! Do you wonder now, Aunt Mercy, that I thought it not too soon to remove her from the atmosphere of worldliness which surrounded her at home, and have her here, where I could turn her thoughts to high and noble views of life?"

The old lady's dim eyes answered him sufficiently.

"I am glad you told me this," she murmured, her voice trembling. "I thought she was different from other gay girls. Have you ever taught her to pray, Lawrence?"

He colored a little as he said, hurriedly,—

"I never thought to tell these things; they seem too sacred. But you have been a mother to me, and—yes, I will tell you.

"The morning after we were married, I took my pocket-Bible and read as usual. I noticed that she looked sober, but I didn't know what foolish fears were filling her little heart. Then I knelt in the closet, beckoning her to come, if she wished, and kneel by me. She did not, but stood leaning against the door. I offered my petition silently, as I had been accustomed to do, and when I arose, my poor, frightened Lady-bird threw herself into my arms.

"'Are you going to die, Lawrence, that you pray?' she asked, quickly.

"I noticed that her eyes were moist and her lips tremulous, but I didn't understand her fears.

"'No, darling,' I said, seating her for the first time on my knee. 'I was thanking our good Father for my beautiful, loving wife; and then I asked him to teach me to care for your best comfort, so that you might never regret you had left your father and mother, and come to live with me.'

"I wish you could have seen her face brighten. She put her cheek close to mine, and said, softly,—

"'I would like to thank him too, but, Lawrence,' she added, in a moment, 'I thought,—I always heard, people prayed to God when they knew they must die, so that they could go to heaven, you know. I thought God was angry with us, and wanted us to be sober all the time, and not at all loving and nice.'

"I was really frightened to see how ignorant she was, even of the simplest Bible truths, and thought our morning could not be better spent than in telling her what glorious news was contained in its pages.

"I began with the Garden of Eden, sketching briefly the stories of the creation and fall, so familiarly known to every Sabbath-scholar.

"She was greatly excited and sometimes laughed heartily. Eve she condemned totally, but for Adam's sin she found some excuse, exclaiming, with a tear in her eye,—

"'He loved her so well, you know, Lawrence.'

"From this point, I went rapidly on to the birth of the Saviour, when she frequently interrupted me by asking,—

"'Is it true, Lawrence,—is this all true? Oh, why did nobody ever tell me of it before? And you say he's been loving me all this time?'

"Her head sank lower and lower on her breast, until I lifted it with a kiss. 'When you kneel again,' she asked, hiding her face in my neck, 'will you ask him to forgive me?'

"'Yes, darling, I'll ask him now.'

"This time we knelt together, and I implored the forgiveness and mercy of God for us both, and asked that our love for each other might increase, as it certainly would, if we obeyed the rules given us for our conduct in the sacred word.

"I never saw such a holy light on her face as beamed there when we arose. I gathered her in my arms, and vowed while life lasted to do all in my power for her happiness."