CHAPTER XXXICONCLUSION
The Herewards, Señor Zuniga and Mrs. Downie, according to arrangement, lived on in the house in the Champs Elysées during the month of the Prince and Princess Gherardini’s bridal tour.
In that month they saw—they even became familiar with—all that was most worth seeing in Paris.
They also made excursions to all places of interest in easy reach of the city.
To well-read persons like the Herewards and Zuniga, who from books were prepared for all things, there could be no surprise; but to Aunt Sophie every day was a new life, every scene a new world, so that she came into a chronic state of amazement.
At the end of the month the Prince and Princess Gherardini returned to Paris.
As Mr. Hereward had still a few days of leisure left, his host and hostess insisted on his spending those days as their guest in Paris.
Mrs. Downie was easily persuaded to stay as long as Lilith should stay.
The Prince and Princess gave a series of brilliant entertainments at the commencement of the Paris season.
Mr. and Mrs. Tudor Hereward always assisted them in receiving. And the Paris world whispered together:
“So that was the distinguished statesman to whom Madame Wyvil was betrothed—Monsieur Hereward, of the American Legation at the Court of ——.”
Mrs. Downie, in the same black satin dress, trimmed with black Brussels lace and black bugles, with a white point lace cap on her head—all of which had been presented to her by the princess to be worn at her wedding—was always present with the receiving party, dodging a little behind whenever a great dignitary, covered with stars, crosses and orders, or a grande dame blazing with diamonds, approached the circle; yet so thoroughly enjoying the splendid pageant that at length she grew really alarmed as to her spiritual condition, and privately spoke her mind to Lilith, as follows:
“I never was drunk in my life, honey, and I never seed anybody else drunk, but I have read and I hearn a heap about drunk; and I do think, for the last week or so, since the princess have been giving thesehigh parties, and I mixed up into it all, I must feel just like people do when they are crazy drunk. I ain’t myself, honey! I ain’t indeed! I donno what Brother Perkins or Brother More would think if they knew the state I’m in. I don’t indeed! Why, child when I go up into my room and shut the door and begin my prayers with reciting my hymn:
‘Fading, still fading, the last ray is shining,Father in Heaven, the day is declining—Safety and innocence fly with the light,Temptation and danger walk forth with the night,’
‘Fading, still fading, the last ray is shining,Father in Heaven, the day is declining—Safety and innocence fly with the light,Temptation and danger walk forth with the night,’
‘Fading, still fading, the last ray is shining,Father in Heaven, the day is declining—Safety and innocence fly with the light,Temptation and danger walk forth with the night,’
‘Fading, still fading, the last ray is shining,
Father in Heaven, the day is declining—
Safety and innocence fly with the light,
Temptation and danger walk forth with the night,’
instead of the music of that comforting hymn, there is sounding through my brain—
‘Tooty-loo-loo! Tooty-loo-loo! Tooty-loo-loo!’
‘Tooty-loo-loo! Tooty-loo-loo! Tooty-loo-loo!’
‘Tooty-loo-loo! Tooty-loo-loo! Tooty-loo-loo!’
‘Tooty-loo-loo! Tooty-loo-loo! Tooty-loo-loo!’
or some such sinful tune as them there misguided young men and women waltz around to, with their heads on each other’s shoulders and their arms around each other’s waists in a way I can’t approve of. And so, honey, I think when you and Mr. Hereward leave here, I shall go home and try to get back my sober senses.”
“But you have enjoyed it, Aunt Sophie,” urged Lilith.
“That’s the worst of it, honey! I have enjoyed it too much! It is a temptation and a snare! A deluding snare.
‘Tooty-loo-loo! Tooty-loo-loo! Tooty-loo-loo!’
‘Tooty-loo-loo! Tooty-loo-loo! Tooty-loo-loo!’
‘Tooty-loo-loo! Tooty-loo-loo! Tooty-loo-loo!’
‘Tooty-loo-loo! Tooty-loo-loo! Tooty-loo-loo!’
There I am again with the waltz whirling round in my old Methodist brain! Yes, honey, I am going home!”
“But, Aunt Sophie, you must go first with Mr. Hereward and myself to our home in ——. I know you would like to see for yourself where I am to live, so that you may be able to picture me in my home.”
“Oh, yes! indeed I should, but——”
“But you will go! My father is to go home with us for a visit—and afterwards he also is to go back to America. And now don’t you see that he who brought you out here should also take you home?”
“Oh, yes! Well, if the ‘sinner’ is going back so soon as you say, it would be worth my while to stay and go along with him. So I reckon I will.”
At the end of the month of festivity, Tudor, Lilith and Aunt Sophie bade good-bye to their hospitable host and hostess, and left Paris for ——.
On their arrival at that city Mr. Hereward took them at once to the handsomely furnished house he had engaged, near the Royal Palace.
It was afternoon when they arrived.
And here a glad surprise awaited Lilith. As she entered the hall, led in by her husband, a great black beast flew to meet her and rolled joyously at her feet!
It was Lion, her faithful Newfoundland dog, who had followed her to the railway station, and from whom she had parted on that dreadful night of her banishment from her home, as she had supposed, forever.
Her joy at meeting her favorite was scarcely less than his own. She welcomed, caressed and talked to him.
“Loyal old Lion! We will never part again! Never again, dear old Lion! until death takes one or the other,” said Lilith, as at last she disengaged herself from him and went upstairs to her room, conducted by Hereward.
Here another surprise awaited her.
As she entered the room her old nurse, housekeeper and lady’s maid, Nancy, came to meet her; but almost instantly became inarticulate in her words of welcome, and then burst into happy, hysterical tears.
When these had subsided, and Lilith and AuntSophie, having laid off their wraps, were seated around the blazing wood fire of the bed-room, with Lion stretched on the rug before them, and Nancy standing leaning her head against the mantelpiece, Hereward explained:
“On the day after I met you in Paris, Lilith, five weeks ago, I wrote to Oxley, at Cloud Cliffs, to send Stephen, Alick, Nancy, and the Newfoundland dog, Lion, out to me by one of the French line of steamers that sail direct for Havre. I gave him minute instructions to see the party all the way from Cloud Cliffs to New York, and on to the ship by which they would sail. I directed him to carry out all these instructions without loss of time. And I inclosed a bill of exchange to cover all expenses. He acted so promptly and intelligently on my orders that the whole party reached here four days ago.”
“But I can’t get it out’n my head, Miss Lilif, as you and me has died and waked up in t’other world! I’m thankful it ain’t the bad place; but it don’t look quite like heaven nuther! And that’s what puzzles ob me,” said Nancy.
“Never mind, you will come around quite right in a few days,” replied Lilith, consolingly.
Señor Zuniga stayed until after Christmas with the Herewards, and then, about the middle of January, sailed for New York.
Señor Zuniga succeeded beyond his sanguine hopes in recovering his patrimonial estates. He sold them for all they were worth and invested the money in West Virginia land near Frosthill.
Then he married his devoted admirer, Harriet Miles, who was never tired of telling her friends that she always knew that he was a young nobleman in disguise who was only playing at play acting for his own amusement.
Madame Zuniga’s stepfather, old Jab Jordon, is avery much subdued old man. First, he is “set upon” by Mrs. Jab, and secondly by Master Jab, their only son and heir.
Mr. Rufus Hilary wonders that his brother-in-law should ever have left the exciting and glorious life of a “world-renowned” dramatic artist, to settle down into a merely respectable farmer and father of a family. Mr. Rufus Hilary is still an ardent admirer and liberal patron of the stage; he is still unmarried, and his pretty young sister, Miss Emily Miles, keeps his house.
The Herewards are still abroad—Mr. Hereward filling a very important diplomatic position at one of the highest courts in Europe, and Mrs. Hereward, at last his deeply loved wife, his companion in domestic life, his helper in official life, is one of the most brilliant and admired among les grandes dames who add lustre to the drawing-rooms of the empress.
THE END
THE END
THE END
TRANSCRIBER’S NOTESSilently corrected obvious typographical errors and variations in spelling.Retained archaic, non-standard, and uncertain spellings as printed.
TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES
TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES
TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES
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