CHAPTER VII.HALCYON DAYS.
A course of days, composing happy weeks,And they as happy months; the day is stillSo like the last, as all so firm a pledgeOf a congenial future, that the wheelsOf pleasure move without the aid of hope.—Wordsworth.
A course of days, composing happy weeks,And they as happy months; the day is stillSo like the last, as all so firm a pledgeOf a congenial future, that the wheelsOf pleasure move without the aid of hope.—Wordsworth.
A course of days, composing happy weeks,And they as happy months; the day is stillSo like the last, as all so firm a pledgeOf a congenial future, that the wheelsOf pleasure move without the aid of hope.—Wordsworth.
A course of days, composing happy weeks,
And they as happy months; the day is still
So like the last, as all so firm a pledge
Of a congenial future, that the wheels
Of pleasure move without the aid of hope.—Wordsworth.
Very early on Monday morning Jacob Junior was dispatched to Saulsburg to meet the mail and fetch the papers. The messenger was so diligent that he brought in the bag and delivered it to his master while the family sat at breakfast.
There were no letters for anybody, but all the last Saturday’s papers had come.
General Lyon distributed them. A New York evening journal fell to Anna’s share. She turned immediately to look for the news of the outward bound steamers. She soon found what she was in search of. And as Alick’s name was still a tacitly dropped word in the presence of her grandfather, she silently passed the paper to Drusilla, and pointed to the list of passengers for Liverpool who sailed by the Erie, from New York, on the Saturday previous.
Drusilla looked and read among them:
“Mr. Alexander Lyon and two servants.”
Drusilla nodded and smiled, saying in a low voice:
“It is better so, for the present. I hope that he will enjoy himself and come home in a happier frame of mind.”
“Of whom are you speaking, my child?” inquired the General, raising his eyes from a report of the last great debate in the Senate.
“Of Alick. He sailed in the Erie for Liverpool on last Saturday,” answered Drusilla, quite calmly.
“Ah! he did? Well, I think it about the best thing he could have done. I hope he will stay there until he comes to his senses. Joy go with him!” heartily exclaimed the old gentleman.
“Dear uncle!” pleaded Drusilla.
“Well, my dear, what now?” I said, “Joy go with him. That was a benediction, was it not?”
“I thought it was a sarcasm,” said Drusilla, archly.
The General coughed slightly and returned to the perusal of the debate.
So Mr. Alexander had betaken himself to parts unknown, and Drusilla was by no means broken-hearted on that account.
All the tears she was ever destined to shed for him seemed already to have fallen; all the heart-aches she was ever to feel for him seemed already to have been suffered and forgotten.
Understand once for all that, though she loved him as faithfully and hoped in him as trustfully as ever, she no longer mourned his absence.
I repeat it—she could love forever and hope forever, but she could not grieve forever—not with her beautiful bright boy before her eyes.
It was delightful to see the young mother at this time of her life. She was the sunshine of that sweet old home. All the joyousness, hopefulness and truthfulness of childhood seemed to have returned to her; or, rather, as her own childhood had not been a particularly happy one, to have come to her for the first time with her child.
She sang in her nursing chair, or at her needle-work, all the morning; she sang at the piano, or the harp, or sang duets with Anna or Dick in the evening. She had a clear, sweet, elastic voice, a pure soprano, perfectly adapted to the bird-like carols that she most favored.
General Lyon, whose passion for music had survived all other enthusiasms, and had even increased with his declining years, seemed never to grow weary of her delicious notes.
This pleased Anna.
“Dear grandpa,” she would often repeat, “I am so gladyou have her here; and will have her with you when Dick takes me away. It will be such a comfort to me to feel you are not lonesome.”
“I don’t know how that may be, my dear. The more I see of our darling, the more inclined I am to think that fellow will come to his senses and claim her from us before we are willing to resign her. Andthenwhat shall I do?” the old man once inquired, with a sigh.
And then Drusilla put her hand in his, and looked up in his eyes with all a daughter’s devotion, and answered:
“Dear uncle, you sheltered me when I had not a friend in the world. You saved my life and my boy’s life. You gave him your name, and gave us both a home. And I will never leave you alone, never—not even forhimwill I leave you, until Anna and Dick come home from their bridal tour to leave you no more.”
“I know it, my child, I know it; I need no assurance from you to teach me how unselfish you are. But, my dear girl, do you think I would permit you to sacrifice your happiness for my sake? No, dear Drusilla, when our prodigal comes to himself and seeks your love again, you will be ready and eager to be reunited to him and you must go with him, although I should be left alone. And this foryourhappiness, which must not be sacrificed for me.”
“Happiness? sacrificed? Oh, uncle! father, dear, dear friend! you do not know my heart. The happiness would be in staying with you to solace your solitude; the sacrifice would be in leaving you alone. Icouldnot andwouldnot do it, no, not even for my dear Alick. Nor would he wish it; for when he ‘comes to himself,’ as you say, he will come to his better, nobler self,—his just and true self.”
“Ah! my darling, you have great faith in that man.”
“Because I judge him by the whole tenor of his past life, and not by the last few months of moral insanity!”
“May Heaven justify your faith, my dear,” replied the veteran.
Soon after the Christmas and New Year’s festivities were over, Richard Hammond made a move towards terminating his visit. But poor Dick’s nature was so perfectly transparent that every one knew it was a most reluctantmove. General Lyon, Anna and Drusilla all knew that Dick was very desirous of staying at Old Lyon Hall, and they all felt that the “unlucky dog,” would be much safer with his relations in the country than among his “friends” in the city. So when Dick at length named an early day in February for his departure, the General said:
“Nonsense, boy, stay where you are.”
“I should be glad enough to stay,” Dick frankly answered, “but you see I feel I am trespassing. Bless my soul and life, sir, I have been here nearly three months.”
“What of that? Stay three years. Stay three centuries if you live so long. My boy, all counted, we are but four; not enough to crowd this big old house; not enough to fill it, or half fill it. So, if you find yourself at ease among us, remain with us.”
“But you see, dear grandpa,” said Anna, wickedly, “he isnotat ease among us. He is very restless with us. He is longing to get back to the city. He is pining for the society of his esteemed friends—the gallant Captain Reding and the brave Lieutenant Harpe.”
“Oh, Anna, Anna! that was bloodthirsty!” said Dick in a grieved and outraged manner.
“Then if that is not so, what is the attraction to the city, Dick?” laughed Anna.
“Nothing at all. You know that as well as I do.” Anna did know it, but for all that she answered maliciously:
“Then I can’t think why you wish to leave us.”
“Idon’twish to leave you. I would much rather stay. I have been here so long, I might well suppose that I had worn out my welcome. But as you and uncle are kind enough to tell me that I have not, Iwillstay, and ‘thank you too,’ as the girl said to the boy that asked her to have him.”
“And don’t take it into your head again, Dick, that you are wearing out your welcome. When we get tired of you, Dick, I will take it upon myself to send you about your business.”
“Very well, Anna. I hope you will do so.”
In truth, Dick had enough to keep him in the neighborhood. Hammond House and Hammondville, forming thegreater portion of the landed estate he had recently inherited, lay within a few miles of Old Lyon Hall.
The whole place was now in charge of a resident bailiff who was instructed to put it in thorough repair for the reception of its new master. And these repairs were going on as fast as circumstances would permit.
The outdoor work was of course frequently suspended during the inclemency of the weather. But the house was filled with carpenters, plasterers, painters and paperhangers.
And it was well that Dick should occasionally ride there to overlook these workmen. The most careful instructions are not often carried out, under these circumstances, without the frequent presence of the master.
It was thought expedient also that Anna, whose home it would sometime be, should be taken into the counsels and accompany Dick in his visits of inspection to Hammond House. And whenever the weather permitted she went there with him.
Hammond House was not to be their permanent home, however. During the life of General Lyon, they were to live at Old Lyon Hall.
Three times a week, when the mail came into Saulsburg and the letters and papers were brought to Old Lyon Hall, Drusilla turned to the ship-news. At length she saw announced the safe arrival of the Erie at Liverpool. And then she knew that was the last of even indirect news she might hope to hear of Alexander.
But she was not depressed on that account. Her faith, hope and love were strong. Everybody was very good to her. Her baby boy was growing in strength, beauty and intelligence.
The spring was to be early this year. The latter days of February were bright and lovely harbingers of its quick approach.
In the finest hours of the finest days Drusilla took her baby out for short drives around the park—the nurse dragging the little carriage and the mother walking by its side, and Leo often following to open gates or remove obstacles.
There was not unfrequently a high dispute between the brother and sister as to who should take care of the baby.
Leo insisted that as the baby was a boy, it washisright to have charge of him, and declared that he could see no fitness at all in a girl setting herself up to nurse a boy.
Pina retorted that such a thing as a male nurse never was heard of either for male or female child.
Leo would then bring forward his mistress’s promise that he himself should have a good time with little Master Leonard, riding him about on his shoulder.
Pina would request him to give that piece of information to the “horse-marines,” who might be credulous enough to believe his story. As for herself, she rejected it totally and held fast by her own rights as sole nurse by appointment of her mistress.
Through all these quarrels one fact was evident—the devotion of the brother and sister to the young child and his mother, of whom it might almost be said that their servants were ready to lay down their lives in their service.
Drusilla had not given up her favorite project of purchasing Cedarwood. She had written and instructed her attorneys to make overtures to the present proprietors of the place, for that purchase. She told them that she knew of course the people who had so recently purchased the property would want a very handsome bonus before they would consent to part with it again so soon; and that she was prepared to satisfy their demands, as she preferred to pay an exorbitant price for the place rather than miss its possession.
Her attorneys, who were long-headed men of business, in no way given to sentiment or extravagance, wrote in reply that they hoped with a little patience and good management to buy the estate at something like a fair valuation.
So Drusilla agreed to wait.
Meanwhile General Lyon had not forgotten that he had promised to purchase Cedarwood, and bestow it upon Drusilla as a New Year’s present. And he also set about negotiating for his purpose.
This reached the ears of Drusilla’s lawyers, who immediately wrote to ask her if she was aware that her uncle, also, was after the place.
Drusilla was not aware of the fact; but now that she heard of it, she of course understood that the General could only be seeking it for her sake.
So she went to the old gentleman and assured him that as much as she loved him, she could not possibly receive so magnificent a present from his hands, but very much desired to purchase the estate with her own funds.
General Lyon laughed, and assured her that his only motive in trying to buy Cedarwood was to keep his word to her; but that, if she released him from it, he was ready to give up the project. “For he was well aware,” he said, “that to bestow property on a lady who owned warehouses piled with merchandise in Baltimore and San Francisco, and merchant ships at sea trading to all parts of the world, besides bank stock and railway shares in almost every State, and gold mines in California, to bestow a little bit of property on such a billionaire would simply be to send coals to Newcastle.”
So the General wrote and stopped the proceedings ofhislawyers.
And Drusilla wrote and toldhersto go ahead as fast as they saw fit.
But it was April before any measure of importance was taken. Then Messrs. Heneage & Kent, who had been as active and as artful as detectives in the business, wrote to inform their client that they had discovered that the present proprietor of Cedarwood, who was a person of very restless disposition and unsettled habits, had become dissatisfied with the place and was anxious to dispose of it, and would do so immediately if he could sell it for as much as he gave for it. Now, as Alexander Lyon had sold the estate at some sacrifice during his fit of fury, it was therefore supposed to be a good bargain. The lawyers wrote to ask further instructions from their client.
Drusilla by return mail directed them to buy Cedarwood immediately, as her great desire was to possess it as soon as possible, on any terms. She also requested them to buy as much of the wooded land around Cedarwood as they could get at a reasonable, or even at a slightly unreasonable price, as she intended to improve the place as much as it would admit of, and wished, among other things, to have a little home park.
It was well for this young Fortunata that her attorneys had much more prudence than herself. They were not disposed to pay fancy prices for fancy places, even when they were spending their client’s money instead of their own, and getting a good percentage on it. So they managed matters so well that, by the first of May, the whole business was successfully completed.
Cedarwood, with its original twenty-five acres of partially cleared land, was purchased for twenty thousand dollars, and one hundred acres of wild forest land lying all around it was purchased for thirty thousand—the whole property costing fifty thousand.
“A very excellent investment,” wrote Heneage & Kent, “even as a mere country seat; but the land so near the city is rapidly rising in value; and when you may wish to do so in future years, you may divide it into half a hundred villa sites, and sell each part for as much money as you now pay for the whole.”
But Drusilla was not thinking of land speculations, so she ran to her friends and, after telling them of the completion of the purchase of Cedarwood, she exclaimed:
“And now we shall have such a beautiful home near the city to receive us all when we go to Washington to spend the winter. It will be so much better than a hotel or boarding-house in the city. It is only half an hour’s drive from the Capitol. We can live there so comfortable, and as quiet as we please when we wish to be so, and enter into all the amusements of the city we like when we wish to do so. It will only be to start half an hour earlier when we go to a party or a play, half an hour earlier from Cedarwood than we should from a hotel in the city, I mean. And then when we leave a brilliant ball-room or opera-house, it will be so pleasant to come to a sweet, quiet home in the woods, instead of a noisy, unwholesome hotel—don’t you think so, dear uncle?” she said, appealing to the General.
“Yes, my darling, I do,” answered the old gentleman.
“And shall you like the plan?”
“Very much, my dear child. I never could sleep well at any of the hotels in Washington or in any other city, for that matter. The noise of the carriages in the streets always kept me awake nearly all night.”
“And you, Anna—shall you like it?”
“Of course I shall. I detest hotels. The clean face towels always smell sour or fetid, for one thing. And boarding houses and furnished lodgings are almost as bad.”
“I am delighted! So in future I and my baby shall beyourguests at Old Lyon Hall or at Hammond House during the summer, and you all shall be my guests at Cedarwood all the winter. And I shall write to “mammy,” and offer her and her husband the situations of housekeeper and head gardener there, at liberal wages. And they would keep the house and grounds always in good order, and ready to receive us. Will not that be pleasant, Dick?”
“Pleasant!” exclaimed Mr. Hammond enthusiastically; “it will be perfectly delightful.”