Tells how the Rev. Mr. Bland preached a Funeral Sermon.--
Shows a dainty Cottage, holding more than the Neighbors
knew.-- Installs Lilly as a Clergyman's Mistress.--
Reverts to a Desolate Home.-- Introduces Dick Hosford, a
returned "Forty-Niner," who begins a despairing Search.--
And shows that unholy, as well as true Love, does not
always run smoothly.
Shortly afterwards a closed cabriolet containing two persons was rapidly
driven from the Michigan Exchange up Wisconsin street, from thence into
Griswold, and out towards the suburbs, finally drawing up before a neat
cottage-house, where the lights, peeping around the edges of the drawn
curtains, showed the place to be in a state of preparation.
A man and a woman quickly alighted from the carriage, and as the woman,
apparently a young one, though closely veiled, stepped to the gate,
opened it and waited for her escort, the gentleman said in a low tone to
the coachman:
"James, drive to the house and inform mother that while down town this
evening I received an unexpected call to Ann Arbor, to preach a funeral
sermon over the remains of an old student-friend at the University, and
that I may not be home until late to-morrow evening;" then, after
handing James some coin, "you understand, James?"
James thought he understood, grinned grimly, put the money in his pocket
and drove away.
"Remember, Lilly," said Bland, stepping to the gate and taking her arm,
"you are Lilly Mercer here."
"Yes, Bland."
"And you are never to mention anything regarding yourself to the lady
who owns this place."
"I think I can keep my own counsel."
"And, if any inquiries are made here, by any person whatever, regarding
myself, you are to be innocently and utterly ignorant."
"And what are you to do?" asked Lilly, naïvely.
"I?--why I am to do well by you."
"Just so long as you do that, Bland, you are perfectly safe!"
She had taken to dictating also; but it was a pretty little cottage and
grounds, and a feeling of satisfaction at being their mistress, even if
it necessitated being his mistress, came over her that made her affable
and winning, if she did occasionally say things that hinted at a stormy
future.
They strolled up the broad brick walk, he thrilled with his magnificent
capture, and she just as satisfied with the power she had attained over
one so high socially, and who stood in such near prospect of obtaining
vast wealth. Instead of entering the house at its little front door with
its highly ornamented porch, they opened the door of a little
trellis-worked addition to the cottage, which was now covered by an
almost leafless mass of vines, and passed to a side entrance, where a
gentle pull of the bell caused the immediate appearance of a very fat
and very flabby woman of middle age, who at once conducted them to a
suite of rooms, consisting of a parlor and a large sleeping-room,
between which, in place of the original folding-doors, had been
substituted rich hangings sufficiently drawn apart to admit of the
passage of one person, and which, with the tastefully draped windows,
the deeply-framed pictures, the vari-colored marble mantels and
fireplaces, the heavy, yielding carpet giving back no sound to the
foot-fall, and the great easy-chairs into which one sank as into pillows
of down, gave the rooms the hintings of such luxuriousness that Lilly
was completely dazzled and bewildered with the unexpected elegance, and
the, to her, never before realized splendor.
"Mother Blake," said Bland, "this is Lilly Mercer, who is my friend, and
whom you are to make comfortable."
Mother Blake, as if realizing that her duties began whenever Bland
spoke, majestically crossed the room, sat down beside Lilly and
immediately kissed her very affectionately, merely remarking, "And a
very nice girl she is, too, Mr. Bland."
"That'll do, mother. You may get us a small bottle of wine, and then go
to bed. It's getting late, and you know you need a good deal of sleep."
Mother Blake chuckled, and shook from it as though her enjoyment of any
sort of pleasantry came to the surface only in a series of ripples over
her great fat body, instead of in echoes of enjoyment from her great fat
throat. But it might have been merely a habit with its origin in the
necessities of her quiet mode of life; and, doing as requested, only
lingered to fasten back the curtain so that the low, luxurious bed came
temptingly into view, after which she beamingly backed out of the room,
wishing the couple "a pleasant night, and many of 'em!"
If shame hovered over this pretty place, it did not pale the amber glow
of the sparkling wine; it came not into the ruddy coals upon the hearth,
which gave forth their glowing warmth just as cheerily as from any other
hearth in the broad land; it never dimmed the light from the gilded
chandeliers; it put no crimson flush upon the faces which touched each
other with an even flow of blood, nor quickened the pulses of the hands
that as often met; and God only knows whether, when, as sleep came down
upon the city, and the man and woman rested in each other's arms upon
the bed beyond the rich curtains (which, as the light in the fireplaces
grew or waned, never contained one ghostly rustle or semblance), there
was even a guilty dream to mark its presence!
But what of the inmates of the old log farm-house by the pleasant river?
The morning came, and the agonized parents found that their daughter had
gone. Robert Nettleton set his teeth and swore that he would never
search for her, while his poor wife was completely broken and crushed as
much from the agonized fears that flooded into her heart as from the
actual loss of her child.
The most dejected member of the household, however, was a new-comer, one
Dick Hosford, who years before had drifted into the Nettleton family and
had been brought up by them until, becoming a stout young man, he was
borne away in the gold excitement with the "Forty-niners" to California,
where by hard work and no luck whatever, being an honest, simple soul,
he had got together a few thousand dollars; with no announcement of his
proposed return, had come back as far as Terre Haute, Indiana, where he
had purchased a snug farm, and immediately turned his footsteps towards
Mr. Nettleton's, arriving there the very morning after Lilly's
departure, as he said, "to marry the gal, but couldn't find her
shadder."
He was simply inconsolable, and it took off the keen edge of the
parents' grief somewhat to find that another shared it with them, and
even seemed to feel that it was all his own.
So it was arranged that the inquisitive neighbors should only know that
Lilly had "gone to town for a week or two," while Dick Hosford should go
to Chicago, and then back east as far as Detroit, making diligent search
for something even more tangible than the "shadder" of the lost girl;
and as he said good-by to the Nettletons with quivering lips and
suspiciously dimmed eyes, he added:
"Bob Nettleton, and mother--for you've always been a half-dozen mothers
to me--don't ye never expect to see me back to these yer diggin's
'thout I bring the gal. I've sot my heart onto her; and" with an oath
that the Recording Angel as surely blotted out as Uncle Toby's, for it
was only the clinching of a brave determination, "I'll have her if I
find her in a----" He stopped suddenly as he saw the pain in their
faces, shook their hands in a way that told them more than his simple
words ever could have expressed, and trudged away with as little
certainty of finding whom he sought, save by accident--or, if found, of
securing the prize for himself, unless through her whim--as of ever
himself becoming anything save the honest, faithful, gullible soul that
he was.
At Detroit, Mother Blake had orders to provide Lilly Mercer, her latest
charge, with a suitable wardrobe and some fine pieces of jewelry, which
was accordingly done; and in the novelty of her transformation, which
really made her a beautiful young woman, her ardor of fondness for Bland
was certainly sufficient to gratify both his vanity and passion to the
fullest extent. But, to some women, both passion and finery must be
frequently renewed in order to insure constancy; and while Bland was as
hopelessly in her toils as ever, as she had always despised him and now
despised his offerings, which were neither so numerous or costly as at
first, she became almost unmanageable, caused Mother Blake great
perturbation of spirit, and led Bland a deservedly stormy life.