Transcriber's notes: Unusual and inconsistent spelling is as printed.
New original cover art included with this eBook is granted to the
public domain.
[Illustration: BROOKSIDE SERIES.]
STOPPING THE LEAK.
BY
AUNT HATTIE.
[Madeline Leslie]
BOSTON
PUBLISHED BY GRAVES AND YOUNG
No. 24 Cornhill.
Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1865, by
GRAVES AND YOUNG,
In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of Massachusetts.
DEDICATION
——————
TO
HARRY AND GEORGE COLVIN,
SONS OF MY ESTEEMED FRIENDS IN BALTIMORE,
I dedicate this Volume,
TRUSTING IT MAY HELP THEM TO AVOID THE FOIBLES AND
EXCESSES WHICH DESTROY FORTUNE AND CHARACTER,
AND TO CULTIVATE INDUSTRY, ECONOMY, AND
THOSE KINDRED VIRTUES
WHICH DISTINGUISH THE WISE AND GOOD.
THE AUTHOR.
CONTENTS.
[Illustration]
CHAPTER I.
LADY-BIRD
CHAPTER II.
THE RECONNOISANCE
CHAPTER III.
DAYS OF YORE
CHAPTER IV.
WHO IS MISTRESS?
CHAPTER V.
FARM VERSUS RUM
CHAPTER VI.
A RAY OF SUNSHINE
CHAPTER VII.
POLICE AND CRIMINALS
CHAPTER VIII.
DETECTION AND ARREST
CHAPTER IX.
A PLUG IN THE LEAK
CHAPTER X.
A STEP IN THE RIGHT DIRECTION
CHAPTER XI.
ONE LEAK STOPPED
CHAPTER XII.
A SECOND LEAK STOPPED
CHAPTER XIII.
FAILURE FROM LEAKS
CHAPTER XIV.
HOME VERSUS OYSTER SALOON
CHAPTER XV.
AFFIDAVIT
CHAPTER XVI.
THE RESTORED HOME
CHAPTER XVII.
DANGER AND COURAGE
CHAPTER XVIII.
LEAKS ALL STOPPED
STOPPING THE LEAK.
[Illustration]
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."