ONE LEAK STOPPED.
AND now, dear reader, I will invite you to accompany me to a tasteful
cottage in the suburbs of the great commercial city in which the early
scenes of our story are laid.
Descending from the omnibus in the great thoroughfare passing directly
by the house, we turn into a rustic gate and enter a narrow path,
so shaded by shrubbery that the walls of the cottage are scarcely
visible. The building is of rough stone, of Gothic architecture, a
wide portico running along in front of the door far enough to take in
the long window on either side. Over the parlor window at the end,
a pretty balcony is thrown out, giving expression, as Downing says,
to the house. The other end, which is the sunny one, the windows are
almost concealed by a luxuriant growth of woodbine, which is trained on
trellises and then runs up to the roof.
Glancing from side to side, as we pass on to the door, we see that the
walk is lined with ornamental shrubs, smoke-trees, and a few plants,
among which the scarlet geranium and a fine growth of verbenas are
prominent. In the front portico hangs a bird-cage, from which comes a
gush of song to welcome our arrival, but a far prettier scene than that
without awaits us as we enter. The rooms below—a parlor on one side
and library on the other—are open, but vacant. The hum of voices from
the chamber arrests our attention, and we softly advance up the black
walnut staircase, past the beautiful statue of a flower-girl in the
niche, on toward the door of the room. It is a sacred picture. Dare we
intrude?
In the foreground, stands a tall gentleman, receiving from the arms of
an old lady his first-born son, while the beautiful mother, pale as the
lilies whose name she bears, looks on with mingled tears and smiles.
"Don't be afraid of the little creature!" exclaims Aunt Mercy, her
countenance showing how fully she enters into the scene. "He's neither
sugar nor salt, and wont melt in your hands."
"But it does seem so very small!"
"Bigger by a couple of pounds than you were, Lawrence. He's a good
stout fellow, considering."
A feeble wail from the infant caused the father to press his lips
softly on the tiny cheeks, and resign it quickly to the more
experienced arms of his aunt.
"Perhaps he's hungry," murmured Lily, with an anxious glance at the
roll of flannel. "Oh, I wish babies could talk!"
A holier, deeper light beamed from her eye as her husband took his
customary seat near her.
"Only think," she said, with a smile, "the doctor says I shall be able
to ride out in a week. I wish mamma could see baby. Oh, I never knew
babies were such little darlings!"
"Aunt Mercy is in her element now," he exclaimed, laughing. "I suppose
that is the way she used to fondle me."
She drew his head down to the pillow and whispered,—
"Oh, Lawrence, my heart is full of love and thanks to Him for this
precious gift! I never knew before what happiness was. How can I best
show my gratitude?"
"We will try to train our child for his service," was the low-spoken
rejoinder.
Weeks flew by with rapid wings. A happy household was that where God
was loved and honored. Lily's heart was full of joy. Every morning,
with her own hands, she washed and dressed her babe, murmuring soft
words of endearment, and then she folded his tiny hands in hers, and
offered sweet, earnest petitions in his behalf.
"He shall never remember when he learned to pray," she said one day to
her husband; "for he might not have one so tender and patient to teach
him as I had; and then I lost so many years of happiness."
Lady-bird had become a full convert to Aunt Mercy's opinion that every
wife should know how to order her own family. At first, indeed, she
begged the old lady to do it for her, at least while she was with them,
but the answer was,—
"'Twont do to transfer your responsibility to my shoulders. I'll help
you all I can, but you are mistress here."
It was trying to the young mother to tear herself away from the
nursery, even though Master Harry lay sound asleep in his cradle, but
she was convinced Aunt Mercy was right. So, tucking up her dainty white
cuffs, and donning an apron, she ran laughing to the kitchen to take
lessons in bread and cake making.
Little by little, with the judicious advice of an experienced hand
over at her side, Lady-bird learned to cook and oversee Maggie, a
ruddy-faced Scotch girl, who had come to them directly after the exit
of cook and Ann. Step by step, she gained an insight into the mysteries
of soups, roasts, puddings, and waffles, until one day, when Lawrence
brought a guest unexpectedly home to dine, she told him, with a smile,
and a blush, that the dinner was entirely cooked by her own hands,
while Aunt Mercy sat by holding Harry in her arms.
[Illustration: TRUE HAPPINESS.]
The visitor was a merchant of great wealth, one who had known Lily for
many years during his occasional visits to the city. He had learned
of their pecuniary trials, and had so great a curiosity to see how
she would bear the change from luxury to comparative poverty that
he readily accepted Mr. Everett's invitation to make a visit at the
cottage. On their way, he hinted at the subject, saying, cautiously,—
"I presume Lily misses her parents and all the elegances of her former
position."
But the husband only smiled. "Yes," he said, "it is a great change for
her certainly. Lily—But she will tell you about it."
"I never knew a child more petted and indulged than she was," rejoined
Mr. Abbott. "Every wish of her heart was gratified."
Again that peculiar smile, and at this moment Lawrence announced that
they had reached home.
Lady-bird had not given up her old habit of opening the door for her
husband, and came running down the stairs at the first sound of his
step on the walk, bringing her babe in her arms. A crimson merino
dress, for it was now chilly weather, gave a beautiful rosy tinge to
her cheek, a little knot of ribbon doing day for a breastpin, while her
eyes beamed with happiness.
"Oh, Lawrence!" she began, joyfully, when, seeing Mr. Abbott, she
checked herself, and extended to him a cordial welcome.
"Come right in here," she said, leading the way to the library, where a
bright coal fire was blazing in the grate. "Come, and I will show you
my boy."
"Mr. Everett, you have played me false!" exclaimed the gentleman,
warmly. "You have been telling me of your losses, but Lily looks as gay
as if she had become heir to the wealth of the Rothschilds."
"Do you mean losing our money?" asked Lady-bird, opening wide her eyes
in astonishment. "Because that was the greatest blessing that could
have happened to us. I have learned a great deal I shouldn't have known
otherwise."
"Truly, then, you can say, 'Sweet are the uses of adversity,'"
rejoined the gentleman, laughing. "But I am neglecting to cultivate
the acquaintance of this little fellow, a fine specimen certainly. I
congratulate you both on the possession of such a prize."
Dinner was usually served as soon as Mr. Everett came home, and Lily,
leaving her boy with his father, ran out to cast a glance over the
table, and see that all was right. Everything was in order, and she
needed only to add an extra plate.
"How glad I am," she said to Aunt Mercy, "that the roast came out so
nicely browned, and then my dumplings are such a success!"
"The proof of the pudding is in the eating, child," was the smiling
rejoinder.
"This is a great occasion for us," remarked the husband, when grace had
been said. "This is Lily's first effort at cooking an entire dinner."
"Mrs. Everett cooking! I can scarcely credit it. What would your
fashionable acquaintances say?" asked the gentleman, in pretended
astonishment. "Well, I think wonders never will end. I should have
thought of almost any one in my knowledge undertaking such business
before you."
"I think, sir," remarked Aunt Mercy, "you never could have known our
Lady-bird, or you would have been sure that she would do this very
thing."
"Well done, Aunt Mercy! You see," exclaimed Mr. Everett, "Lily has
stout defenders here."
"So you will have to be careful how you slander me," added the young
wife, blushing.
"I can tell you how it is in a word," explained the gentleman. "When
I was married, I was in a thriving business and began housekeeping on
too large a scale. It took us but a few months, with Aunt Mercy's help,
to find out there was a dreadful leak in our expenses, and we have all
taken hold in earnest to stop it."
"And what does mamma say to all this?"
Lily's eyes sparkled with merriment, as she replied,—
"She don't know what to say. She can't believe me when I write her that
I can make custards and fricassee chickens and scallop oysters. She
don't understand how I can be so happy in this little cottage. She has
never seen our dear little household angel. She writes doleful letters
of sympathy in reply to my merry ones, and only wishes I could be with
her in Paris, where she is visiting and fêting so gayly. I think if she
could see me in the morning, making coffee and muffins for breakfast
with my apron on, she would weep over me."
Lily ended with a sweet, musical laugh, so hearty that all her hearers
joined in it.
"Aunt Mercy could tell you a long story of my inefficiency when she
first knew me," the young wife went on. "I had not the least idea of my
duties as the mistress of a household, but thought they consisted in
watching at the window for my husband and running to open the door for
him."
"Ah, Lady-bird! Who is slandering my wife, now?" asked Lawrence, with a
tender glance in her face. "You know you find time to do that now with
all your care."
"I shall be warmly received among your old friends, Mrs. Everett," said
Mr. Abbott, "when they know I have been to visit you."
"Oh, no! We have had many visitors, but you are welcome to tell all
who are interested to know that we would not go back to our palace in
Montgomery Place, and be as rich as we once were, for anything. Would
we, Lawrence?"
"I am perfectly content with my present lot," he said, so warmly, that
Mr. Abbott nodded approval.
With the coffee Master Harry was brought in, and sat in his father's
lap, while the delicious beverage was discussed and enjoyed. And then
Mr. Everett reluctantly left for the city, saying, "I must not be
behind the rest in stopping the leak. I work hard in these days."