This letter was far more pleasing to Maude's taste than were the oranges and figs, and: Louis was suffered to monopolize the latter--a privilege which he appreciated, as children usually do. After the holidays J.C. paid a flying visit to Laurel Hill, where his presence caused quite as much pain as pleasure, so anxious he seemed to return. Rochester could not well exist without him, one would suppose, from hearing him talk of the rides he planned, the surprise parties he man--aged, and the private theatricals of which he was the leader.
"Do they pay you well for your services?" Louis asked him once, when wearying of the same old story.
J.C. understood the hit, and during the remainder of his stay was far less egotistical than he would otherwise have been. After his departure there ensued an interval of quiet, which, as spring approached, was broken by the doctor's resuming the work of repairs, which had been suspended during the coldest weather. The partition between the parlor and the large square bedroom was removed; folding-doors were made between; the windows were cut down; a carpet was bought to match the one which Maude had purchased the summer before; and then, when all was done, the doctor was seized with a fit of the blues, because it had cost so much. But he could afford to be extravagant for a wife like Maude Glendower, and trusting much to the wheat crop and the wool, he started for Troy about the middle of March, fully expecting to receive from the lady a decisive answer as to when she would make them both perfectly happy!
With a most winning smile upon her lip and a bewitching glance in her black eyes, Maude Glendower took his hand in hers and begged for a little longer *******.
"Wait till next fall," she said; "I must go to Saratoga one more summer. I shall never be happy if I don't, and you, I dare say, wouldn't enjoy it a bit."
The doctor was not so sure of that. Her eyes, her voice, and the soft touch of her hand made him feel very queer; and he was almost willing to go to Saratoga himself if by these means he could secure her.
"How much do they charge?" he asked; and, with a flash of her bright eyes, the lady answered, "I suppose both of us can get along with thirty or forty dollars a week, including everything; but that isn't much, as I don't care to stay more than two months!"
This decided the doctor. He had not three hundred dollars to throw away, and so he tried to persuade his companion to give up Saratoga and go with him to Laurel Hill, telling her, as an inducement, of the improvements he had made.
"There were two parlors now," he said, "and with her handsome furniture they would look remarkably well."
She did not tell him that her handsome furniture was mortgaged for board and borrowed money--neither did she say that her object in going to Saratoga was to try her powers upon a rich old Southern bachelor who had returned from Europe, and who she knew was to pass the coming summer at the Springs. If she could secure him Dr.
Kennedy might console himself as best he could, and she begged so hard to defer their marriage until the autumn that the or gave up the contest, and with a heavy heart prepared to turn his face homeward.
"You need not make any more repairs until I come; I'd rather see to them myself," Miss Glendower said at parting; and wondering what further improvements she could possibly suggest, now that the parlor windows were all right, the doctor bade her adieu, and started for home.
Hitherto Maude had been his confidant, keeping her trust so well that no one at Laurel Hill knew, exactly what his intentions were, and, as was very, natural, immediately after his return he went to her for sympathy in his disappointment. He found her weeping bitterly, and ere he could lay before her his own grievances she appealed to him for sympathy and aid. The man to whom her money was intrusted had speculated largely, loaning some of it out West, at twenty per cent., investing some in doubtful railroad stocks, and experimenting with the rest, until by some unlucky chance he lost the whole, and, worse than all, had nothing of his own with which to make amends. In short, Maude was penniless, and J.C. De Vere in despair. She had written to him immediately, and he had come, suggesting nothing, offering no advice, and saying nothing at first, except that "the man was mighty mean, and he had never liked his looks."
After a little, however, he rallied somewhat, and offered the consolatory remark that "they were in a mighty bad fix. I'll be honest," said he, "and confess that I depended upon that money to set me up in business. I was going to shave notes, and in order to do so I must have some ready, capital. It cramps me," he continued, "for, as a married man, my expenses will necessarily be more than they now are."
"We can defer our marriage," sobbed Maude, whose heart throbbed painfully with every word he uttered. "We can defer our marriage a while, and possibly a part of my fortune may be regained--or, if you wish it, I will release you at once. You need not wed a penniless bride," and Maude hid her face in her hands while she awaited the answer to her suggestion. J.C. De Vere did love Maude Remington better than anyone he had ever seen, and though he caught eagerly at the marriage deferred, he was not then willing to give her up, and, with one of his impetuous bursts, he exclaimed, "I will not be released, though it may be wise to postpone our bridal day for a time, say until Christmas next, when I hope to be established in business," and, touched by the suffering expression of her white face, he kissed her tears away and told her how gladly he would work for her, painting "love in a cottage," with nothing else there, until he really made himself believe that he could live on bread and water with Maude, provided she gave him the lion's share!
