 | CHAPTER XV.
THE NEW MISTRESS AT LAUREL HILL. Cousin Maude ; and, Rosamond |  |
15. CHAPTER XV.
THE NEW MISTRESS AT LAUREL HILL.
The 20th of October came, and with a firm hand Maude
Glendower arrayed herself for the bridal, which was to
take place at an early hour. The scar on the end of the
doctor's nose had shaken her purpose for an instant, but
when she thought again of the unpaid bills lying in her
private drawer, and when, more than all, the doctor said,
“We greatly fear Maude Remington will be blind,” her
resolution was fixed, and with a steady voice she took
upon herself the marriage vows. They were to go to
Laurel Hill that day, and when the doctor saw that the
handsome furniture of her rooms was still untouched, he
ventured to ask “if she had left orders to have it sent.”
“Oh, I didn't tell you, did I, that my furniture was all
mortgaged to Mrs. Raymond for board and borrowed
money, too; but of course you don't care; you did not
marry my furniture,” and the little soft, white hands were
laid upon those of the bridegroom, while the lustrous eyes
sought his face, to witness the effect of her words.
The dent on the nose grew red a moment, and then the
doctor, perfectly intoxicated with the beauty of his bride,
answered, “No, Maude, I married you.”
A rap at the door, and a note from Messrs. Barnabas
Muggins and Brown, “hoped Miss Glendower would not
forget to settle her bill.”
“It's really quite provoking to trouble you with my
of yours that we should have no secrets from each other,
and so I may as well show you these at once,” and she
turned into his lap a handful of bills, amounting in all to
four hundred dollars, due to the different tradesmen of
Troy.
The spot on the nose was decidedly purple, and had
Katy or Mattie been there, they would surely have recognized
the voice which began, “Really, Mrs. Kennedy, I
did not expect this, and 'tis a max—”
“Never mind the maxim,” and the mouth of the speaker
was covered by a dimpled hand, as Maude Glendower
continued, “It's mean, I know, but as true as I live, I
don't owe another cent. Four hundred dollars is not
much, after all, and you ought to be willing to pay even
more for me, don't you think so, dearest?”
“Ye-es,” faintly answered the Doctor, who, knowing
there was no alternative, gave a check for the whole
amount on a Rochester bank, where he had funds deposited.
Maude Glendower was a charming traveling companion,
and in listening to her lively sallies, and noticing
the admiration she received, the Doctor forgot his lost
four hundred dollars, and by the time they reached Canandaigua,
he believed himself supremely happy in having
such a wife. John was waiting for them, just as
thirteen years before he had waited for blue-eyed Mattie,
and the moment her eye fell upon the carriage he had
borrowed from a neighbor, the new wife exclaimed “Oh,
I hope that lumbering old thing is not ours. It would
give me the rickets to ride in it long.”
“It's borrowed,” the Doctor said, and she continued,
in those matters.”
John rolled his intelligent eyes toward his master,
whose face wore a submissive look, never seen there before.
“Henpecked!” was the negro's mental comment, as he
prepared to start.
When about three miles from the village, the lady
started up, saying, “she had left her shawl, and must go
back immediately.”
“There is not time,” said the Doctor, “for the sun is
already nearly set. It will be perfectly safe until we send
for it.”
“But it's my India shawl. I must have it,” and the
lady's hand was laid upon the reins to turn the horses'
heads.
Of course they went back, finding the shawl, not at the
hotel, but under the carriage cushions, where the lady
herself had placed it.
“It's a maxim of mine to know what I'm about,” the
Doctor ventured to say, while a silvery voice returned,
“So do I ordinarily, but it is not strange that I forget myself
on my wedding day.”
This was well timed, and wrapping the garment carefully
round her to shelter her from the night air, the doctor
bade the highly amused John drive on. They were
more than half way home when some luscious oranges, in
a small grocery window, caught the bride's eye, and “she
must have some, she always kept them in her room,” she
said, and to the grocer's inquiry, “How many, madam?”
she answered, “Two dozen, at least, and a box of fresh
figs, if you have them. I dote on figs.”
It was the doctor's wedding day. He could not say no,
and with a mental groan he parted company with another
bill, while John, on the platform without, danced the
“double shuffle” in token of his delight. There was a
second grocery to be passed, but by taking a more circuitous
route it could be avoided, and the discomfited
bridegroom bade John “go through the Hollow.”
“Yes, sar,” answered the knowing negro, turning the
heads of the unwilling horses in a direction which would
not bring them home so soon, by one whole hour.
But the grocery was shunned, and so the doctor did
not care even if the clock did strike nine just as they
stopped at their own gate. The night was dark and the
bride could not distinguish the exterior of the house,
neither was the interior plainly discernible, lighted as it
was with an oil lamp and a single tallow candle. But she
scarcely thought of this, so intent was she upon the beautiful
face of the crippled boy, who sat in his arm chair,
eagerly awaiting her arrival.
“This is Louis,” the father said, and the scornful eyes
which with one rapid glance had scanned the whole
apartment, filled with tears as they turned toward the
boy.
Dropping on one knee before him, the lady parted the
silken hair from his forehead, saying very gently, “You
must be like your mother, save that your eyes are brown,
and hers were blue. May I be your mother, Louis? Will
you call me so?”
Very wonderingly the child gazed into her face. It
was radiantly beautiful, while the dreamy eyes rested
upon him with such a yearning look that his heart went
out toward her at once, and winding his arms around her
mother.”
For a moment Maude Glendower held him to her bosom,
while her thoughts went back to the long ago when
another face much like his had rested there, and another
voice had whispered in her ear, “I love you, Maude Glendower.”
That voice was hushed in death, but through
the child it spoke to her again, and with a throbbing heart
she vowed to be to the crippled boy what Mattie herself
would well approve, could she speak from her low bed
beneath the willows.
“What of your sister?” the lady said at last, rising to
her feet. “Is she recovering her sight?”
“Nellie writes there is hope,” said Louis, “though she
did not receive attention soon enough, the physician says.”
There was reproach, contempt, and anger in the large
black eyes which sought the doctor's face, but the tallow
candle burned but dim, and so he did not see it.
“It will be a great misfortune to her, and very hard on
me if she is blind, for of course I must take care of her,”
he said at last, while his wife indignantly replied, “Take
care of her! Yes, I'd sell my diamonds rather than see
her suffer!”
Supper was now announced, and in examining the arrangement
of the table, and inspecting the furniture of
the dining-room, the bride forgot every thing save the
novelty of her situation. Mentally styling the house “an
old rookery,” she forced back the bitter feelings which
would rise up when she thought how unlike was all this
to what she had been accustomed. It needed but one
glance of her keen eyes to read the whole, and ere the
close of the next day, she understood her position perfectly,
to make the most of every thing. She knew the
doctor had money, aye, and she knew, too, how to get it
from him, but she was too wary to undertake it in any of
the ordinary ways. She did not tell him how desolate
the old house seemed, or that she was home-sick because
of its desolation; but after she had been there a few days,
she sat down by his side, and told him that with a few improvements
it could be made the most delightful spot in
all the country, and she was glad she had come there to
help him to fix it up. She knew he had exquisite taste,
and, as he was now at leisure, they would contrive together
how their parlors could be improved. She didn't
quite like them as they were, the window lights were
too small, and they must have the large panes of glass.
Then satin paper on the walls would look so much better,
and the carpets, though really very nice, were hardly
good enough for a man of Dr. Kennedy's standing in
society.
“But,” gasped the doctor, “the one in the back parlor
is bran new—has scarcely been used at all, and it is a
maxim of mine”—
“Your maxim is good, undoubtedly,” interrupted the
lady, “but the chambers all need recarpeting, and this
will exactly fit Maude's room, which I intend fixing beautifully
before she returns.”
The doctor looked aghast, and his wife continued: “The
season is so far advanced that it is hardly worth while to
make any changes now, but next spring I shall coax you
into all manner of repairs. I do wonder what makes that
spot on your nose so red at times. You are really very
fine looking when it is not there. It is gone,” she continued,
she said, “We won't talk of the future now, but seriously,
we must have some new Brussels carpets, and a furnace
to warm the whole house.”
Here she shivered and coughed quite naturally, after
which she returned to the charge, saying, “her family
were consumptive, and she could not endure the cold.”
“But, my dear,” said the doctor, “it will cost a great
deal of money to carry out your plans.”
“Oh, no, not much,” she answered, “give me five hundred
dollars and I will do every thing that is necessary
to make us comfortable through the winter.”
“Five hundred dollars, Mrs. Kennedy!” and the doctors
gray eyes looked as they used to look when Katy and
Mattie asked him for five. “Five hundred dollars! Preposterous!
Why, during the seven years I lived with
your predecessor, she did not cost me that!”
From old Hannah, Mrs. Kennedy had learned how her
predecessor had been stinted by the doctor, and could he
that moment have looked into her heart, he would have
seen there a fierce determination to avenge the wrongs so
meekly borne. But she did not embody her thoughts in
words, neither did she deem it advisable to press the subject
further at that time, so she waited for nearly a week,
and then resumed the attack with redoubled zeal.
“We must have another servant,” she said. “Old
Hannah is wholly inefficient, and so I have engaged a colored
woman from the hotel; and did I tell you, I have
spoken to a man about the furnace we are going to have,
and I also told Mr. Jenks to buy me one hundred yards of
Brussels carpeting, in New York. He's gone for goods,
you know.”
“Really, Mrs. Kennedy, this exceeds all. My former
companions saw fit to consult me always. Really, one
hundred yards of carpeting, and a black cook! Astonishing,
Mrs.Kennedy—astonishing!”
The doctor was quite too much confounded to think of
a single maxim, for his wife's effrontery took him wholly
by surprise. She was a most energetic woman, and her
proceedings were already the theme of many a tea-table
gossip, in which the delighted villagers exulted that Dr.
Kennedy had at last found his match. Yes, he had found
his match, and when next day the black cook, Rose, came,
and Mr. Brown asked when he would have the furnace
put in his cellar, there was that in the eye of his better
half, which prompted a meek submission. When the bill
for the new carpets was handed him he again rebelled but
all to no purpose. He paid the requisite amount, and
tried to swallow his wrath with his wife's consolatory remark,
that “they were the handsomest couple in town,
and ought to have the handsomest carpets!”
One day he found her giving directions to two or three
men who were papering, painting, and whitewashing
Maude's room, and then, as John remarked, he seemed
more like himself than he had done before since his last
marriage.
“If Maude is going to be blind,” he said, “it can make
no difference with her how her chamber looks, and 'tis a
maxim of mine to let well enough alone.”
“I wish you would cure yourself of those disagreeable
maxims,” was the lady's cool reply, as, stepping to the
head of the stairs, she bade John “bring up the carpet, if
it were whipped enough.”
“Allow me to ask what you are going to do with it?”
parlor carpet swinging on the line.
“Why, I told you I was going to fit up Maude's room.
She is coming home in a week, you know, and I am preparing
a surprise. I have ordered a few pieces of light
furniture from the cabinet-maker's, and I think her chamber
would look nicely if the walls were only a little higher.
They can't be raised, I suppose?”
She was perfectly collected, and no queen on her throne
ever issued her orders with greater confidence in their
being obeyed; and when, that night, she said to her
husband, “These men must have their pay,” he had no
alternative but to open his purse and give her what she
asked. Thus it was with every thing. Hers was the
ruling spirit, and struggle as he would, the doctor was
always compelled to submit.
“Ki, aint him cotchin' it good?” was John's mental
comment, as he daily watched the proceedings, and while
Hannah pronounced him “the hen-peck-ed-est man she
had ever seen,” the amused villagers knew that will had
met will, and been conquered!
| CHAPTER XV.
THE NEW MISTRESS AT LAUREL HILL. Cousin Maude ; and, Rosamond | |