The Unseen Bridegroom Part 45

Mollie turned round from the table, where she sat taking her evening meal.

"I don't want you or your visitors, Mrs. Sharpe, if that be your name,"

said the irascible patient. "You're all a set of old tabby cats together, and if you don't clear out, I'll fling something at your head!"

She bounced from her chair as she spoke and brandished the tea-pot.

With a howl of dismay, old Sally turned tail and fled incontinently.

Just waiting to exchange one approving glance with her patient, the nurse thought it prudent to follow her example.

This little incident had one salutary effect. It frightened Sally out of her feeble old wits, confirming, as it did, Dr. Guy's fable of the periodical fits of madness to which the young lady was p.r.o.ne. She related to her mistress, in shrill falsetto, what had occurred.

"And if ever I go near the crazy little hussy again, as long as she's under this roof," concluded Sally, wildly, "I'm a Dutchman!"

"Weren't you frightened?" Mrs. Oleander asked, turning to the nurse.

"Oh, not much!" said the serene Susan. "I'm used to it, you know. I could have dodged if she had heaved the tea-pot. She takes them tantrums once or twice a day."

Mollie spent the evening alone, of course, but in despair no longer.

Hope had planted her shining foot on the threshold of her heart, and for the time she could forget she was the most miserable wife of Dr.

Oleander, in the face of freedom. And Hugh Ingelow was near, and she loved Hugh. Oh, if she had never refused him--bravest, n.o.blest heart that ever beat! the most generous gentleman the Creator ever made!

Alone Mollie sat--alone, but lonely no longer; for yonder, drifting lazily into the setting tide, the sunset glowing above and around it, floated the snow-white skift. In the amber mist fluttered the banner of blue--the banner of hope--and there, lounging easily, with his face turned to her, was the man she loved, handsome Hugh! her beloved--her darling!

"And, oh! that I were by his side," Mollie exclaimed, in her rhapsody, "never, never to leave it again."

Solitude and imprisonment had done this willful child some good, you see. They had taught her to think--to know herself. She never could be the same crude, madcap Mollie again.

The last, low, yellow gleam died out of the sunset--slowly crept up the twilight, palely, gemmed with stars. A round, red moon showed its crimson disk above the silvery horizon line, whitening as it arose, until it trailed a flood of crystal radiance over the purple bosom of the sleeping sea. And still Mollie sat there, watching the shining stars creep out, and still the fairy bark floated lazily with the drifting current. She could have sat there and watched him forever--her n.o.ble, gallant Hugh! But by and by, as the night wind grew chill, the little white boat, glided away and disappeared.

The entrance of Mrs. Sharpe, with her night-lamp, aroused Mollie from her trance. She turned eagerly round to greet her. Next to Hugh Ingelow, her hope now was in this mysterious woman.

Mrs. Sharpe closed the door carefully after her, set the lamp on the table, dropped the curtain, and then turned her face to Mollie. One look at that face told Mollie something had occurred.

"What is it?" she asked in a breathless whisper.

And Susan Sharpe, bending down, whispered hurriedly:

"Doctor Oleander is here."

Mollie barely repressed a cry. Susan Sharpe caught her, in alarm, by the shoulder.

"Hush! Are you crazy? Not a word. Yes, he's down-stairs--came half an hour ago. Don't look so frightened--he won't trouble you this time."

"This time," repeated Mollie, noticing the emphasis. "What do you mean?"

"That he was only run down to see how we get along, and to tell us to be all ready for an early start. We are going to Cuba."

"We?"

"Yes," with a grim smile and nod, "we. You, and me, and Doctor Oleander."

"Oh, nurse--"

"Hush! Hear me out--I can stay but a minute. He is going to take you to Cuba. His affairs are nearly arranged. He means to start on Friday night--this is Tuesday. A schooner will be in waiting at the wharf, in the village yonder. I am to go with you as attendant. He is very much pleased with me, and I have consented."

Mrs. Sharpe laughed softly.

"But, nurse--"

"Yes, yes; be still. We won't go--be sure of that. He wanted to come up to see you, but I told him he had better not, if he wanted to have you quiet when the time came. So he goes off again to-night without troubling you."

Mollie clasped her hands in thankfulness.

"How can I thank you? How good you are!"

"Thank me by going straight to bed and sleeping like a top. Let the thought that it is likely to be your last night under this accursed roof be your lullaby. And now I must go."

Mollie held up her rosy lips--tempting and sweet--and the woman stooped and kissed her.

"You are my best friend," Mollie said, simply. "G.o.d bless you!"

The woman smiled.

"Nay, the kiss and the blessing, if meant for your best friend, should have been kept for Hugh Ingelow. I but obey his orders."

Mollie turned radiantly red. Mrs. Susan Sharpe, with a significant smile at her own keenness, immediately quitted the room.

Dr. Oleander did not disturb Mollie. He departed half an hour after Mrs.

Sharpe quitted her for the night. The account his mother and Sally gave of the nurse made him disposed to trust her.

"I will take her with me," he thought, "since she is so trustworthy. It would be too horribly dreary for Mollie without one companion of her own s.e.x."

So he offered liberal terms, and Mrs. Sharpe closed with his offer readily enough.

"I'd as lief go to Cuba as not," she said, in her sedate way. "One place is the same as another to me. But it's very soon to be ready."

"Never mind," replied the doctor. "We'll find dry-goods stores in Havana, I dare say, and, meantime, I'll provide some ready-made things from New York."

Dr. Oleander departed very well satisfied. He would have liked very much to see Mollie, but his approach always threw her into such a fury, and he wanted her kept as quiet as possible until the hour of departure.

"I'll have to resort to the vulgar alternative of chloroform, I dare say," he thought. "She'll make a fight for it at the last. I can quiet her, however."

And so Dr. Oleander went back to New York without one suspicion that his new nurse was playing him false.

Within an hour after breakfast, the peddler presented himself next morning. Again Mrs. Oleander and Sally were vividly interested, and again each purchased something. Again Mrs. Sharpe said she wanted nothing, and again she knelt down to examine the contents of the pack.

The peddler pressed his goods, Mrs. Sharpe obdurately declined. He persisted, Mrs. Sharpe grew angry.

"Take these here gloves, then, for ma.s.sy sake!" cried the peddler in desperation, "ef yer won't take nothin' else. They're the richest of silk gloves, and, bein' it's you, only fifty cents. Just you feel 'em."