Chapter XI

by Mary Jane Holmes

　　A GLANCE AT NEW ORLEANS SOCIETY

　　The house which Dr. Lacey occupied was situated on one of the pleasanteststreets of New Orleans. It was a large, airy structure, which had formerlybeen owned by a wealthy French gentleman who had spared neither money norpains to adorn it with every elegance which could minister to theluxurious habits common to a Southern clime. When it passed into the handsof Dr. Lacey's father, he gratified his Northern taste, and fitted it upwith every possible convenience, molding its somewhat ancient aspect intoa more modern style.

　　When Dr. Lacey reached the age of twenty-one, his father made him theowner of the house, he himself removing to another part of the city. Atthe time of which we are speaking, nothing could exceed the beauty of thehouse and grounds.

　　The yard which surrounded the building was large, and laid out with allthe taste of a perfect connoisseur. In its center was a fountain, whoselimpid waters fell into a large marble basin, while the spray whichconstantly arose from the falling stream seemed to render the heat of thatsultry climate less oppressive. Scattered throughout the yard were thenumerous trees and flowering shrubs which grow in profusion at the "sunnySouth." Here the beautiful magnolia shook its white blossoms in theevening breeze, and there the dark green foliage of the orange treesformed an effectual screen from the mid-day sun.

　　The building was surrounded on all sides by a double piazza, the slenderpillars of which were entwined by the flowering honeysuckle and luxuriantpassion-flower, which gave the house the appearance of a closely wreathedarbor. Within the piazza was filled with rare tropical plants. Thebeautiful oleander, magnificent rose and sweet-scented geranium, hereunited their fragrance, while the scarlet verbenum and brilliantheliotrope added beauty to the scene.

　　The interior of the building corresponded with the exterior. The rooms,large and airy, were carpeted with velvet, and adorned with costly marbleand rosewood furniture. The windows, which were constructed in the Frenchstyle, that is, reaching to the floor, were curtained withrichly-embroidered lace. Let us ascend the winding staircase, and enterthe dressing room of the owner of all this splendor.

　　Half reclining on a crimson lounge sits Dr. Lacey, dressed in afashionable brocade morning gown. On first glancing at him we think thereis no change in his countenance since we last saw him on Mrs. Crane'ssteps in Frankfort, but as we note the expression of his face we canperceive a shade of anxiety resting there. At last he rises and ratherimpatiently pulls the bell rope.

　　His summons is immediately answered by an exquisite dandy, who is neitherAfrican, European, French, nor Spanish, but an odd mixture of the four. Heis dressed in the extreme of fashion, and on entering the room bows mostgracefully, at the same time casting an admiring glance at himself in thelarge mirror, and passing his hand carelessly through his perfumed locks.With the utmost deference, he awaits the commands of his master.

　　"Well, Rondeau," said Dr. Lacey, "haven't you finished breakfast yet?"

　　"Yes, marster," answered Rondeau, with a very low bow. "I've got through amoment since. What can I do for you. Will you ride this morning?"

　　"No," answered Dr. Lacey, "I do not wish to ride, but I want you to go tothe post office and back immediately; remember now, and not stop togossip."

　　"Certainly not," said the negro. "When marster's in a hurry, Rondeau isnever foolin' away time."

　　"And don't stop more than an hour in the kitchen to talk to Leffie. Do youunderstand?" continued the doctor.

　　"Oh, yes, I won't," said Rondeau, extending his mouth into a broad grin athis master's allusion to Leffie, a bright-looking, handsome, mulatto girl,whom next to himself, Rondeau thought was the prettiest creature in theworld.

　　At last he bowed himself out of the room, and proceeded to execute hismaster's commands. On passing the kitchen, he "just looked in a little,"and the sight of Leffie's bright eyes and rosy lips made him forgetful ofhis promise. Going up to her, he announced his intention of kissing her. Aviolent squabble ensued, in which the large china dish which Leffie heldin her hand was broken, two pickle jars thrown down, chairs upset, thebaby scalded, and the dog Tasso's tail nearly crushed! At last AuntDilsey, the head cook and mother of Leffie, interposed, and seizing thesoup ladle as the first thing near her, she laid about her right and left,dealing no very gentle blows at the well-oiled hair of Rondeau, who wasglad to beat a retreat from the kitchen, amid the loud laughter of theblacks who had witnessed the scene.

　　Leaving the house he was soon on his way to the post office, and havingprocured his master's mail he started for home. At length, slackening hispace, he took from his pocket the letters and carefully scrutinized theinscription of each. He was in the habit of going to the post office, andafter his master's return from Kentucky, he had noticed two or threeletters written in what he called "a mighty fineified hand," and he hadwhispered to Leffie as a great secret that "'twere his private opinionmarster was going to marry some Kentucky girl." Recently he had noticedthe absence of those letters, and also the absence of his master'saccustomed cheerfulness. Rondeau was pretty keen, and putting the twocircumstances together, he again had a whispered conference with Leffie,whom he told that "most probably the Kentucky girl had flunked, formarster hadn't had a letter in ever so long, and every time he didn't getone he looked as blue as a whetstone!"

　　"Glad on't," said Leffie. "Hope he won't have any your foreigners. Allusdid wish he'd have Miss Mortimer. Next to old marster and young marsterLacey, her father's the toppinest man in New Orleans. And it's a pity foryoung marster to stoop."

　　After examining all the letters closely, Rondeau came to the conclusionthat the right one wasn't there, and he thought, "Well, Leffie'll be glad,and marster'll be sorry, and hang me if I ain't sorry too, for marster's aplaguey fine chap, and desarves anybody there is in Kentucky."

　　Meanwhile Dr. Lacey was anxiously awaiting Rondeau's return, and when hecaught sight of him, coming at an unusually rapid pace toward the house,he thought, "Surely Rondeau would never hurry so if he had not good newsfor me," but the next thought was, "How should he know what it is I am soanxious to get?" Still he waited rather impatiently for Rondeau to makehis appearance. In a moment he entered the room, and commenced pulling theletters from his pocket, saying, "I've got a heap this time, marster."

　　He then laid them one by one on the marble dressing table, counting themas he did so; "Thar's one, thar's two, thar's three, thar's four."

　　"Stop counting them, can't you, and give me all you have directly," saidDr. Lacey, as his eye ran hurriedly over the superscription of each, andfound not the one he sought.

　　"That's jist what I've done, marster," said Rondeau, bowing. "The one youwant wasn't thar."

　　Dr. Lacey glanced hastily at his servant, and felt assured that thequick-witted negro was in possession of his secret. "You may go," said he,"and mind, never let me hear of your commenting about my letters."

　　"No, marster, never; 'strue's I live," said Rondeau, who left the room andwent in quest of Leffie. But he did not dare to repeat the scene of themorning, for Aunt Dilsey was present, bending over a large tub of boilingsuds, and he felt sure that any misdemeanor on his part would call forth amore affectionate shower bath than he cared about receiving. So heconcluded to bring about his purpose by complimenting Aunt Dilsey on herfine figure (she weighed just two hundred!).

　　"Aunt Dilsey," said he, "'pears to me you have an uncommon good form, forone as plump and healthy-like as you are."

　　Aunt Dilsey was quite sensitive whenever her size was alluded to, and shereplied rather sharply: "You git along, you bar's ile skullcap. 'Twon't behealthy for you to poke fun at me."

　　"'Pon my word," said the mischievous Rondeau, "I ain't poking fun at you.I do really think so. I thought of it last Sunday, when you had on thatnew gown, that becomes you so well."

　　"Which one?" said Aunt Dilsey, a little mollified, "the blue and yallerone?"

　　"The same," answered Rondeau. "It fits you good. Your arm looks real smallin it."

　　Leffie was nearly convulsed with laughter, for she had tried theexperiment, and found that the distance round her mother's arm was justthe distance round her own slender waist.

　　"Do tell!" said Aunt Dilsey, stopping from her work and wiping the dropsof perspiration from her shining forehead. "Do tell! It feels dreffulsleek on me, but my old man Claib says it's too tight."

　　"Not an atom too tight," answered Rondeau, at the same time getting nearerand nearer to Leffie, and laying his hand on her shoulder.

　　Before she was aware of his intention, he stole the kiss he was seekingfor. Leffie rewarded him by spitting in his face, while Aunt Dilsey calledout, "Ain't you 'shamed to act so, Leffie? Don't make a fool of yourself!"

　　Assured by this speech, Rondeau turned, and kissing Aunt Dilsey herself,was off just in time to escape a basin of hot suds which thathighly-scandalized lady hurled after him.

　　"I'll tell marster this minute," said she, "and see if he hain't gotnothin' to set the lazy lout a-doin'." So saying, the old lady waddledinto the house, and going upstairs, knocked at Dr. Lacey's door.

　　"Come in," said the doctor, and Aunt Dilsey entered. In a very sad tone,she commenced telling how "that 'tarnal Rondeau was raising Cain in thekitchen. He's kissed Leffie, and me too!"

　　"Kissed you, has he?" said Dr. Lacey.

　　"Yes, sar, he done that ar very thing, spang on the mouth," said Dilsey.

　　"Well, Dilsey," said the doctor with a roguish twinkle of the eye, "don'tyou think he ought to be paid?"

　　Aunt Dilsey began to cry, and said, "I never thought that marster wouldlaugh at old Aunt Dilsey."

　　"Neither will I," said the doctor. Then tossing her a picayune, he said,"take that, Aunt Dilsey. I reckon it will pay for the kiss. I'll see thatRondeau does not repeat his offense, on you at least."

　　Aunt Dilsey went back to the kitchen, thinking that "Marster George wasthe funniest and best marster on earth."

　　While Rondeau was carrying on his flirtation in the kitchen, Dr. Lacey wasdifferently employed. Hope deferred had well nigh made his heart sick."What can be the reason," thought he, "that Fanny does not write? I havewritten repeatedly for the last two months and have had no answer." Thenas a new idea struck him, he added, "Yes, I'll write to Mr. Miller, andask him what has happened." Suiting the action to the word, he drew up hiswriting desk, and in a short time a letter was written and directed to Mr.Miller.

　　He arose to summon Rondeau to take it to the office; but ere he hadtouched the bell rope, pride whispered, "Don't send that letter; don't letMr. Miller into your private affairs. If Fanny were sick, some one wouldwrite to you."

　　So the bell was not rung, and during the next half-hour Dr. Lacey amusedhimself by mechanically tearing it into small fragments. Ah, Dr. Lacey,'twas a sorry moment when you listened to the whispering of that pride!Had that letter been sent, it would have saved you many sleepless nightsof sorrow. But it was not to be.

　　That night there was to be a large party at the house of Mr. Mortimer,whom Leffie had mentioned as second to the Laceys in wealth. Mr. Mortimerwas the uncle at whose house Florence Woodburn was visiting, and the partywas given in honor of her arrival, and partly to celebrate MabelMortimer's birthday. Mabel was an intelligent, accomplished girl, andbesides being something of a beauty, was the heiress expectant of severalhundred thousand. This constituted her quite a belle, and for three orfour years past she and Dr. Lacey had been given to each other by theclever gossips of New Orleans. Mr. Lacey senior was also rather anxiousthat his son should marry Mabel; so Julia was not far out of the way whenshe wrote to Fanny that Dr. Lacey's parents wished to secure a matchbetween him and a New Orleans belle. Had Dr. Lacey never seen Fanny, hepossibly might have wedded Mabel. But his was a heart which could love butonce, and although the object of his love should prove untrue, hisaffections could not easily be transferred to another; so that it was allin vain that Mabel Mortimer, on the evening of the party, stood before hermirror arranging and rearranging the long curls of her dark hair and thefolds of her rich white satin, wondering all the while if Dr. Lacey wouldapprove her style of dress.

　　Turning to Florence, she said, "Cousin, did you see Dr. Lacey while he wasin Frankfort?"

　　"No; I did not," answered Florence; "but I do hope he will be heretonight, for I am all impatient to see this lion who has turned all yourheads."

　　A slight shade of displeasure passed over Mabel's fine features, butquickly casting it off she said, "Why are you so anxious, Florence? Haveyou any designs on him? If you have, they will do you no good, for I havea prior claim, and you must not interfere."

　　"Dear me, how charmingly you look!" said Florence. "But, fair coz, do notbe too sanguine. Suppose I should tell you that far off in old Kentuck, asthe negroes say, there is a golden-haired little girl, who has--"

　　"Stop, stop," said Mabel. "You shall not tell me. I will not hear it."

　　At that instant the doorbell rang, and in a moment several young girlsentered the dressing room, and in the chattering and laughing and fixingwhich followed, Mabel forgot what her cousin had been saying. After a timethe young ladies descended to the spacious drawing rooms, which wererapidly filling with the elite of the city.

　　Mabel's eye took in at a glance all the gentlemen, and she felt chagrinedto find Dr. Lacey absent. "What if he should not come?" thought she. "Theparty would be a dreadfully dull affair to me." Some time after, shemissed Florence and two or three other girls, and thinking they were inthe parlor above, she went in search of them. She found them on thebalcony not far from the gentlemen's dressing room, the windows of whichwere open. As she approached them, they called out, "Oh, here you are,Mabel! Florence is just going to tell us about Dr. Lacey's sweetheart."

　　"Dr. Lacey's sweetheart!" repeated Mabel. "Who is Dr. Lacey's sweetheart,pray?"

　　"Do not blush so, Mabel; we do not mean you," said Lida Gibson, abright-eyed, witty girl, with a sprinkling of malice in her nature.

　　"Of course you do not mean me," said Mabel, laughingly. "But come, cousin;what of her?" And the young girls drew nearer to each other, and waitedanxiously for Florence's story.

　　Little did they suspect that another individual, with flushed brow,compressed lip and beating heart was listening to hear tidings of her whomFlorence had designated as his sweetheart. Dr. Lacey had entered thegentlemen's dressing room unobserved. He heard the sound of merry voiceson the balcony, and was about to step out and surprise the girls when hecaught the sound of his own name coupled with that of Fanny Middleton. Hiscuriosity was aroused and he became a listener to the followingconversation:

　　"Come, Florence," said Lida, "do not keep us in suspense any longer. Tellus whether she is black or white, fat or lean, rich or poor."

　　"But first," said Mabel, "tell us how you know she is anything to Dr.Lacey."

　　"That is what I don't know," said Florence. "I am only speaking of whathas been."

　　"Well, then," said Mabel, more gayly, "go on,"

　　"This Fanny Middleton," said Florence, "looks just as you would imagine abright angel to look."

　　How Dr. Lacey blessed her for these words.

　　"But," continued Florence, "there is a singularly sad expression on hermarble face."

　　"I never observed it," thought Dr. Lacey.

　　"What makes her sad?" asked Lida.

　　"That is a mystery to me," answered Florence. "Report says that she loveda Mr. Wilmot, who was engaged to her sister."

　　"Engaged to her sister!" repeated Mabel. "How strange! But won't it maketrouble?"

　　"It cannot," said Florence. "Mr. Wilmot is dead, and it is whispered thatFanny's heart was buried with him. I should not be surprised if it wereso, for Fanny has the saddest face I ever saw. It made me want to cry whenI looked at her. I should have pitied her more, however, had she not beenso well cared for by a Mr. Stanton, of New York."

　　Large drops of perspiration stood thickly on Dr. Lacey's forehead, and hishands, convulsively clasped, were pressed against his heart; still he didnot lose a syllable as Florence continued, "I did not blame her for likingStanton, for he would break half your hearts and turn the rest of youcrazy."

　　"But the sister," asked all the young ladies, "how was she affected tothink Fanny loved her betrothed?"

　　"Oh, that sister!" said Florence. "You ought to see her! She is beautifulbeyond anything I can describe. She eclipsed everything and everybody."

　　"And she is as agreeable as handsome?" asked Mabel, whose fears werearoused that Julia might be the rival, instead of Fanny.

　　Florence replied, "I was told that she was formerly very passionate, somuch so that her father nicknamed her Tempest. Within a few months she hasentirely changed, and is now very amiable; but I like Fanny's looks thebest."

　　"But Dr. Lacey--what had he to do with Fanny?" asked Lida.

　　"It was said they were engaged; but I do not think they are. In fact, Iknow they are not, from what Fanny said herself; for she assured me thatDr. Lacey was nothing to her more than a common acquaintance; and the sadbut sweet smile which broke over her face whenever she raised, her softblue eyes to Stanton's animated countenance confirmed what she said."

　　"So, Mabel, you can have the doctor after all," said Lida. "You know youused to say that it was all settled, for your parents and his had arrangedit."

　　Dr. Lacey waited for no more. He knew of a back stairway down which hecould escape into the open air unobserved. In a moment he stood alone inMr. Mortimer's garden, but the evening breeze, although it cooled hisbrow, failed to calm his excited feelings. Suddenly it occurred to himthat his absence from Mr. Mortimer's would excite attention in those whosaw him enter, so he made a desperate effort to be calm, and retracing hissteps, was soon in the drawing room with Mabel Mortimer on his arm, muchto that young lady's satisfaction.

　　As they passed near a group of girls, in the center of which stoodFlorence Woodburn, Mabel suddenly said, "Oh, Dr. Lacey, let me introduceyou to cousin Florence. She has just come from Frankfort and knows some ofyour acquaintances there."

　　So saying, she drew him toward Florence, who had all the evening beenwaiting for an introduction to him. Dr. Lacey rather wished to avoidmaking Florence's acquaintance, fearing that she might say something tohim of Fanny. But there was no escape, and he greeted Florence with asmile and a bow, which, to use her own words, "nearly drove every ideafrom her head."

　　Once during the evening he found himself standing with Florence, alone,near an open window. Florence improved her opportunity, and raising herbewitching hazel eyes to the doctor's face, said, "Why do you not ask meabout your Kentucky friends, Dr. Lacey?"

　　Had Florence observed her companion closely, she would have noticed thepallor which for an instant overspread his face. It passed away, and hereplied with an assumed gayety, "How should I know that we have anyacquaintances in common in Frankfort?"

　　Before Florence had time to reply, Mabel joined them. She was unwilling torisk a tete-a-tete between the doctor and her fascinating cousin, and assoon as she found them standing alone she went up to them. Her example wasfollowed by several other young ladies, among whom was Lida Gibson, whobegan by saying, "Doctor, do you know that Miss Florence has told us allabout your love affairs, and also described the Golden Fairy? Now, whydidn't you fall in love with her sister? Florence says she is far morebeautiful."

　　Dr. Lacey answered calmly, "What reason has Miss Woodburn to think I am inlove with either."

　　"No reason," said Mabel, quickly; "neither does she think you are in lovewith her either."

　　"Dear me," said Lida. "Of course you do not wish me to think so, and weall know why; but never mind frowning so dreadfully, Mabel; I won't tell!"and the mischievous girl glided away, laughing to think that she hadsucceeded so well in teasing Mabel Mortimer.

　　After a moment, Dr. Lacey turned to Florence and said "It seems you sawJulia Middleton. Do you not think her very handsome?"

　　"Yes, very," answered Florence; "but I liked Fanny's looks the best."

　　A pang shot through Dr. Lacey's heart at the mention of Fanny's name, buthe continued to inquire concerning his friends in Kentucky. Before theparty closed, Florence, Mabel and Lida had each managed to repeat to himall the conversation which he had overheard in the first part of theevening, never once thinking how desolate was the heart which beat beneaththe calm manner and gay laugh of him who listened to their thoughtlessraillery.

　　At length the party drew to a close. Dr. Lacey was among the first thatleft. He longed to be alone with his troubled thoughts. Mechanicallybidding Mabel "Good night," he ran down the marble steps, and steppinginto his carriage, ordered Claib, the coachman, to drive home as soon aspossible. There was no particular necessity for this command, for Claibhad been fretting for the last hour about "White folks settin' up allnight and keepin' niggers awake. Darned if he didn't run the horses homelike Satan, and sleep over next day, too."

　　With such a driver the horses sped swiftly over the smooth road and in avery few minutes Dr. Lacey was at home, alone in his room. Then the fulltide of his sorrow burst forth. He did not weep. He would scorn to dothat. But could one have seen him as he hurriedly paced the apartment, hewould have said, his was a sorrow which could not vent itself in tears.Occasionally he would whisper to himself, "My Fanny false!--she whom Ibelieved so truthful, so loving, so innocent! And she loves another--one,too, whom it were almost a sin to love. Fool, that I did not see itbefore, for what but love could have drawn such devotion to him on hisdeathbed? And yet she assured me that I was the first, the only one, shehad ever loved; and I believed it, and gave her the entire affection of myheart."

　　Then came a reaction. Resentment toward Fanny for thus deceiving himmingling with his grief. But he had loved her too deeply, too truly, tocherish an unkind feeling toward her long. Throwing himself upon the sofa,and burying his face in his hands, he went back in fancy through all themany happy hours he had spent in her society. While doing this sleepdescended upon him and in his dreams he saw again his darling Fanny, notfalse and faithless as he had feared, but arrayed in a spotless bridalrobe. She stood by his side as his own wedded wife. Was that dream everrealized? We shall see.