CHAPTER III.

DAYS OF YORE.

AUNT MERCY stealthily wiped a tear from her eye, and finding she had no voice to answer, was hastening from the room, when a sweet voice in the hall arrested her steps.

"Oh, I'm sorry I stayed so then! Where is he?" was the hurried exclamation.

Lawrence started forward, laughing, and caught her in his arms.

"Here I am, my truant bird, ready to hear you defend yourself. Why were you not here to open the door for me?"

"Are you really sorry?" she asked, after a searching glance in his face. "I wish I'd been here, for I had a tedious ride, after all. Mamma's friend wanted to shop; and I was so tired of hearing silks and tissues and laces discussed I—What do you think I did?"

"Sat in the carriage and thought of me, of course."

She laughed merrily, exclaiming, as she glanced archly at Aunt Mercy,—

"Did you ever see such a man?"

"He always was a little vain," was the old lady's remark.

"I did, I did!" she exclaimed. "I thought what a kind, patient husband you are, and how hard I would try to be worthy of you."

A softened light beamed in his eyes as he whispered fond words of endearment in her ear.

It was not a light task Mrs. Lovell had undertaken, when she promised her nephew that she would do her best to find and stop the leak. Whenever she stepped her foot into the kitchen, it was the signal for cook, Ann, and Tom to maintain a profound silence. If she asked a question, they either did not answer at all or pretended profound ignorance of the subject in question. The drawers and dressers were thoroughly overlooked, but there the work of reform seemed to stop. The servants took pleasure in misunderstanding her orders. And every day proved the want of a systematic overseer in the household.

One day, after the old lady had delivered a lecture in the kitchen on economy, the dinner was served up in so meagre a style that Mr. Everett, who had brought home guests, ordered it back to the kitchen, and sent Tom to a hotel near by for means to serve a decent repast. It was no time for the old lady to explain, but she made a resolve either to take the whole care of the household, and hire new servants, or to give up interfering with them. She was rather amused to see that Lily did not feel at all involved in the disgrace of having a poor dinner for her husband's guests, but was engaged in watching what he would do in such an emergency. She had not yet learned that it is a wife's duty to see that the money a husband provides for the use of his family is properly expended.

The next morning Lily awoke feverish and languid, with a severe soreness in her throat. Mr. Everett was greatly alarmed, and wished at once to summon the doctor, but she told him she was subject to such attacks, and she thought with some simple remedies, such as Ann knew how to apply, it would soon pass away. She promised to lie quiet, let Ann bring her coffee to the bed, and then try to sleep.

Unfortunately, Mr. Everett had a business engagement which would occupy most of the morning, otherwise he would not have left her. But he sent for his breakfast to be brought to his chamber. Then he sat by the bed and read the account of Christ healing the sick, after which he prayed the good Physician to bestow healing mercy on the dear afflicted one.

"Now," he said, cheerfully, "as I cannot be with you, I shall get Aunt Mercy to come, and tell you some of my pranks when I was a boy; she is very eloquent on that subject."

Lily was delighted; and her husband did not leave her until the old lady was duly installed in her arm-chair near the bed, her knitting in hand, and her glasses exactly on the end of her nose, ready to dilate on her favorite theme.

"Did Lawrence ever tell you," she began, "how I came in the place of a mother to him?"

"He told me quite a romantic story connected with it," answered Lily, her eyes sparkling with pleasure at the thought of hearing it in detail.

"You will laugh, I suppose," the old lady commenced, "at the idea that I was ever called handsome, but there was a time when my cheeks and lips were rosy, my eyes bright, and my hair black and abundant. I was very lively, too, in those far-off days; for the world looked very fair and lovely to me.

"My father was the richest man in the place, being the owner of the large factories that supplied half the village with work. I was, therefore, always kept at school, and was considered quite a prodigy in learning. One winter (how well I remember it!) I was sent to the academy in Leicester. It was at that time the most popular school in the State. It was to be my last term, and I resolved to do my best.

"The teacher, whose name was Everett, was a graduate from Harvard, and was just commencing the study of law. He was dependent on his own exertions for support; and as he loved teaching, he had obtained this school, studying at intervals in the office of Squire Wellington, of Leicester."

For a few moments Aunt Mercy seemed wholly absorbed in her knitting, but suddenly rousing herself, went on.

"It is strange for me to tear away the curtain of time from those early days for you, so much of a stranger, to look in. But I will say, in brief, that young Everett paid me marked attention, which woke an interest for him in my heart. At last, he told me he loved me, and asked me to be his wife. I consented, with the proviso that my parents approved. One Saturday afternoon, he drove to the door of my boarding-house in the handsomest sleigh the town afforded, to take me home, in order to gain my parents' consent. This was not difficult; for he had brought letters of recommendation from men high in rank, whom my father could trust.

"That was a happy Sabbath,—the happiest, I said to myself, that I had ever known; and I looked forward to the future with bright anticipations of many such days. There was only one circumstance which lessened my pleasure, and this was the absence of my only sister, who had gone to pass a few days with our grandmother.

"We returned to Leicester the next morning in season for school, feeling that earth contained no two persons with prospects of happiness fairer than ours.

"I had a new incentive to study,—for I wished my teacher to feel proud of his choice,—and at the end of the term graduated with the highest honors of the school, having received the prizes both for composition and deportment from the trustees, with the chairman of whom I had boarded.

"I went home directly after this, and Mr. Everett returned to Harvard to complete his studies. He couldn't expect to have a home for me for several years, but I was young, and willing to wait.

"Though I had left school, I did not give up my studies. I pursued a course of reading under the direction of my teacher; and much of our correspondence, during two years, was on subjects which interested me, connected with my reading. During the second year of our engagement, I accepted an invitation to visit a schoolmate near the college, and remained there six weeks, seeing Mr. Everett more frequently than I had ever done before. I used often to compare him with other young gentlemen who called, and had no hesitation in pronouncing him superior to them all.

"The next year I had the small-pox, which left some few marks on my face. I have often since wondered that I did not feel more mortification on account of this disfigurement, which, to be sure, every one told me was slight and would entirely disappear in time. But I knew that if my friend was pitted so that nothing of his former complexion could be seen, it would only increase my affection for him, or rather increase the manifestation of it. I would not allow to myself that I could love him more.

"At last, he wrote me that he had been admitted to the bar, that he had opened an office in the pleasant village of W—, and that he wanted me to fulfil my promise to be his. I laid the letter before my parents. My trunks were already filled with preparations for housekeeping. My father had long ago informed Mr. Everett that five thousand dollars lay waiting in the county bank for my benefit; so that nothing remained but to prepare dresses suitable for a bride.

"I wrote an answer that I would be ready in a month. How happy I was then! Three times a week I received long epistles from my lover, full of assurances of his undying affection. Ah, how trusting I was! But the time was hastening when I was to be undeceived.

"I had but one sister, four years younger than myself, a sweet, confiding girl grown suddenly to womanhood. I had from a child been called the beauty of the family, while Charlotte, or Lottie, as we lovingly called her, was plain, but years had improved her complexion as it had marred mine. She was of a happy temperament, flirting from room to room, singing, oh; so merrily!

"Strange enough, she had never seen Mr. Everett, but she often gazed admiringly on a miniature he had sent me, wondering how it would seem to have a brother.

"He came at last, two days before the time appointed for the wedding; for we were to leave directly after the ceremony, and there were many arrangements to be made. There was a stage-coach which passed our house twice in a day. It was by this in the afternoon of Tuesday that I expected him. In the morning, therefore, Lottie and I went out to make calls at the houses of some poor friends whom I might not see again for years. She grew tired, and I urged her to return, while I took a longer route home."

The old lady suddenly caught off her glasses; and Lily could see bright drops standing in her eyes.

"Can't you guess, child, what happened then?" she asked, the words coming with an effort.

"No, Aunt Mercy; Lawrence never told me you had been married twice."

"I thought I had forgotten all that weary sorrow," she murmured. "I thought that I could tell what followed without the dreadful pain at my heart which never left me for years afterward. I reached home soon after noon. Mr. Everett had been there for hours talking with Lottie,—sometimes of me, but more of herself. Why had not I told him, he asked, of her charms?

"Then I made my appearance with the scars on my face brightened by my long and tedious walk. He received me politely, but I saw the change. How I lived through that day and the next, I cannot tell you. He avoided being alone with me until Thursday morning, until within a few hours before the time our friends would assemble, when he demanded an interview. He told me to hate him,—to forget him; his affection had changed. He loved my sister.

"Pride came to bear me up; and when he saw how coldly I received this announcement, he charged me with not loving him as I ought,—that it was well for both of us that the engagement be broken. I did not try to undeceive him. I bowed assent, and went out,—anywhere to be alone,—anywhere that I might rouse myself from this dreadful dream. I thought I had the nightmare; that it could not be true. Only a short time before, and I was so happy! Now what was I? A poor, crushed, despised creature thrown aside as worthless.

"The company came and went. I was missing, and the ceremony could not go on. Mr. Everett went too, but not before he had told Lottie his love.

"My father was a man of easy temper, bound up in his children. I was afterwards told that they found me in an arbor at the bottom of the garden, lying on the ground insensible. The first I can remember I was in his arms, as he carried me to my chamber. I had never before seen him angry, but when I was laid on a couch, and had swallowed some ammonia and water, I heard him use words that made me tremble. He called Everett by every vile epithet he could think of. He summoned Charlotte into the room, and threatened her with being disinherited if she ever dared to speak or write to that black-hearted villain. He seemed to have an idea that all this would soothe me,—would avenge my sorrows.

"It was a long, long time before I could venture forth into the fresh air. I felt that I was disgraced forever. I avoided company; and at last, my health was greatly affected. Our physician advised change of scene; and I went to the West with a cousin for a long visit. There I became acquainted with Dr. Lovell, who knew my sad history from my cousin. He tried to win me to brighter views of duty; and finally, I consented to be his wife. I was to go home for a month, where he would follow me and the wedding would take place immediately. The week before I returned, I received a letter from home, with the startling announcement that, during a visit to a friend in the city, Lottie had been privately married to Mr. Everett.

"The couple then wrote my parents, begging forgiveness, but father returned the letter in a blank envelope. He made a will the next day, leaving every cent of his property to be divided between mother and myself. By one proviso, mother was to forfeit half hers if, as the clause read, she gave anything to her lost daughter. He never seemed to imagine that I should feel any disposition to forgive them."

"But you did,—I know you did!" murmured Lily, the tears running down her cheeks. "You gave her a home, and took care of her boy."

She caught the old lady's hand and pressed it to her lips.

"Well, dear, since you know the rest, I'll end my long story."

"No, please tell me. I do so want to know everything."

"Perhaps you can't understand it, Lily, but as soon as my respect for my old teacher was gone, all my love died out. Dr. Lovell was a very kind husband, and as, by my father's request, he removed from the West, I seemed to have every wish gratified. But sorrow came soon. By a most singular coincidence, my father and Mr. Everett were on a train of cars when there was a collision. Father was not supposed to be seriously hurt, but my brother-in-law was killed instantly.

"Now we hoped father would relent, but he did not. He refused to hear a word in poor Lottie's behalf; and soon disease was developed in consequence of his injury which, after five months, terminated his life.

"I instantly sent for my sister to come to his funeral, but Lawrence was only three weeks old, and she was not able. Dr. Lovell visited her at my request a week later; and she returned with him, a feeble, heartbroken woman. It is sufficient to say that she had not found the happiness in her marriage which she expected. Mr. Everett's temper was seriously affected by their troubles. He was greatly prospered in business for a year or two, but there was a leak somewhere. Poor Lottie knew nothing about housekeeping; and the money he gave her for family purposes was not well expended; and this made him cross. I don't know exactly how it was, but they were always in trouble,—he constantly throwing the blame on her, and she retorting bitterly, until, by his sudden death, she was left penniless."