CHAPTER XIV.
DAINTY WOULD NEVER FORGET THAT DAY.
Lovelace Ellsworth was delighted when he saw Dainty's bright, happy face
next morning, showing that nothing had marred her calm repose.
Black mammy's ebony face shone with delight, too, as she related how
peacefully her charge had slumbered, without a single disturbing dream,
all night.
"Bress her dear heart! Mammy gwine tek keer ob her ebry night, an' don't
want no silber dollar for it, neider, dat she don't!" she exclaimed,
pushing away Love's hand, though he afterward surreptitiously dropped
the money into her capacious apron pocket.
After breakfast he kissed his darling a tender good-bye and rode away
happily, in the July sunshine, on the little business trip of which he
had spoken to Dainty the evening before. He returned so late that night
that he did not see her until morning, when he received the same
encouraging report. Mammy had proved a most faithful guardian,
effectually keeping at bay all the unquiet spirits of the night.
Indeed, for quite a week everything went on pleasantly at Ellsworth.
The mistress of the mansion and her two favorite nieces seemed to have
swallowed their chagrin and accepted the situation. They were blandly
courteous to the lovers, and seemed to have relaxed their endeavors to
wound and annoy them; but, could one have looked beneath the surface, a
volcano would have been seen to be smoldering beneath the thin upper
crust of politeness.
Mrs. Ellsworth, angry and indignant at the thwarting of her cherished
schemes, steeled her heart to all the charms of her youngest niece, and
cherished a secret resentment that was destined to bear bitter fruit.
Olive Peyton, mad with slighted love and thwarted ambition, was quite as
eager as her aunt for revenge on her lovely rival, while Ela Craye was
not behind either in her resentment. Having thrown over her lover for
the sake of gold, she was all the more anxious to realize her desires.
So the three conspirators stood secretly but solidly against the lovers,
and only the future could prove whether the forces of good or evil would
win in the bitter contest.
True, Ela was a little frightened still when she recalled the
sensational interview with her wronged lover; but she knew that he had
fled from the scene of his attempted crime, and returned to his office
in Richmond. Indeed, she had written him a curt letter, taking credit to
herself for not having betrayed his identity to Love Ellsworth that
night. She threatened him, frankly, that if he should ever interfere
with her or Mr. Ellsworth again, she should denounce him for the
attempted assassination, of which Love bore witness in a slight scar on
his white brow.
Vernon Ashley made no reply to Ela's letter, and she began to breathe
more freely, hoping that he would trouble her peace no more.
During that calm week, Dainty had one bitter disappointment.
It was the news that her dear mother would be unable to join her at
Ellsworth until two days before the wedding.
She had very unfortunately taken a young married pair to board after the
girls went to the mountains, and the young wife now lay quite ill, the
mother of a feeble infant.
Mrs. Chase did not consider the hired nurse very competent, and had not
the heart to desert the young couple in their trouble.
"I have taken the care of the babe on myself," wrote
the motherly soul, "and I believe it will be two weeks
yet before I can safely desert my post. Then my
boarders will leave for the country, and I shall fly to
you, my darling, whom I have so sadly missed since you
went away."
And, oh! what a joyful heart the loving mother bore at the fruition of
all her fond hopes for her lovely daughter!
How bitterly she had grieved over her poverty for Dainty's sake! How she
had dreaded to see her assume the drudgery of school-teaching, fading
her bright bloom in wearisome toil! But now it would never have to be.
The girl's own natural charms, unhindered by the lack of finery, had won
for her the love of a noble man, who would fill her life with sunshine.
It was a triumph, too, to see how Olive's and Ela's spite had recoiled
on themselves, and failed to harm winsome Dainty, whom they hated simply
for her grace and beauty.
She rejoiced in Dainty's happiness, and the girl had been careful not to
grieve her by a hint of her annoyances at Ellsworth.
"Poor mamma, she has troubles enough of her own fighting the hard battle
of poverty; but, thank Heaven! it will soon be over, for Love has
promised that her home shall be here with me always," the young girl
thought, with a heart full of joy.
So the happy days slipped away, each crowded with pleasures, for there
was never a dull day at Ellsworth. The mistress kept it gay with
pleasant entertainments, to which she always invited the best people in
the county, especially the eligible young men, hoping that the nieces
Lovelace had slighted for Dainty might yet catch rich husbands.
But somehow the best catches seemed already engaged, and the next best
ones, while politely attentive to Mrs. Ellsworth's guests, did not
betray any marked predilection for their society. Though handsome and
well-dressed, they failed somehow in that indefinable charm that often
wins for a plainer girl a really enviable lover.
This fact has been often observed in life. The most perfect beauty,
unless united to an innate goodness that forms an attractive aura about
the person, often fails to impress and win.
"What a beautiful girl! Pray introduce me!" exclaims some admiring young
man; but on being presented, he feels an unconscious chill, and after
leaving the beauty's presence, finds he has lost all interest in what
before had charmed him so. The most probable cause is, that the fair
face hid an ignoble soul whose influence had vaguely chilled and
depressed his admiration.
Olive Peyton was peculiarly of this unpleasant type. Proud, vain, cold,
and ambitious, she had never possessed any magnetic power of attraction,
and had actually never received a single proposal, though it would have
mortified her intensely for any one to find it out.
Ela, who patterned after Olive as nearly as possible, had never had any
offer but that of Vernon Ashley, which she had been glad enough to
accept until she thought a better chance had presented itself.
So, very naturally, both the young girls cherished an inward spite and
envy for the sweet, lovable girl who had won so easily the prize they
coveted.
They could see, too, from the actions of the young men who came to
Ellsworth, that they envied the proud lover the prize he had won. She
might easily have had a dozen other offers had not Love won her promise
so quickly. How could any one wonder at it who saw how kind-hearted and
gentle she was, always thinking of others more than herself, always
pitying another's sorrow, always glad of another's joy, always
light-hearted and sunny, hiding her grief, if she ever had one, under a
merry smile?
"Her laugh,
As light as wine or chaff,
Breaks clear at witty sallies,
As brooks
Run bubbling through the nooks
Of all her southern valleys.
"Her voice,
By nature and by choice,
Even those who knew her slightest
Would find
As soft as southern wind
When southern winds are lightest."
So the summer days flew, and the happy lover was making all the
preparations for the wedding.
It must be a grand affair, of course. Half the county would expect an
invitation to the wedding of Lovelace Ellsworth, and he was not averse
to having them witness his happiness.
The invitations were sent out two weeks beforehand. Dainty would never
forget that day, because it was on that very night that the Ellsworth
ghost reappeared to cast its lowering shadow again over her happiness.
It was quite a week since she had seen it, and Love had almost persuaded
her that she had dreamed the whole thing, or that Sheila Kelly had
probably played ghost to annoy her, when suddenly one night it
reappeared more horribly than ever before, striking consternation to
even the stout heart of old black mammy, who roused the whole house with
her terrified shrieks, and filled Love Ellsworth's heart with rage at
her graphic story.