She believed that her friend would prefer her to do so, at least for the present, and preserve his home just as he had left it, that Lucille might not too soon forget him; while, as she thought the matter over in all its bearings, it seemed almost like sacrilege to her to displace the beautiful furnishings and many treasures of art which had been so carefully purchased and arranged under his supervision; the servants were all well trained and trustworthy, and it would have entailed an infinite amount of perplexity and labor to make any change, and even though she felt that the responsibility of keeping up such an extensive establishment would be very great, she finally decided it was the right thing for her to do. Moreover, and it was the greatest inducement of all, Cliff was to remain indefinitely in Washington, and she felt that she could not be separated from him.
So her modest little home, in the humble street where they had lived for nearly two years, was broken up. Mr. Heatherford was removed to the pleasantest suite of rooms in the Lamonti residence, and the faithful Eliza was retained to act solely as his nurse and attendant.
"Poor, dear papa!" Mollie sighed as she bent fondly over him, after he was comfortably settled in a sunny south window of his luxurious apartment, "if you could only realize the good fortune that has come to us, after our battle with poverty, I should be perfectly happy."
When Faxon first learned of the great change that had come into Mollie's life so unexpectedly he looked anything but pleased.
"So, dear, you now belong to another sphere," he observed, with a quickly repressed sigh, "or, perhaps, I should have said you have been restored to your proper sphere."
"Cliff," said Mollie reprovingly, but with a light on her face which expressed far more than her words, "I belong alone to you—your sphere will always be mine, unless—oh, you grand, aspiring fellow!—I am unable to keep up with you mentally as you climb the ladder of fame."
The young man's arms closed around her in a fond embrace, but a sudden contraction in his throat would not admit of his speaking for the moment. This little revelation of her great and absorbing love for him moved him deeply. Mollie observed it, and, flashing a sly, mischievous glance into his face, she demurely remarked:
"I'm very sorry, Cliff, if you are going to feel burdened to take me with the appendage that has been thrust upon me. Of course, you know I would rather have you than the fortune—love in the proverbial cottage with you than the whole world without you—but since I cannot get rid of the fortune, I don't see but that you will have to take me just as I am, be it for 'better or worse.'"
"Mollie! Mollie!" murmured Faxon, in a voice that almost made her weep—it was so intense from the emotion which nearly mastered him—"what a rare, sweet woman you are!"
He was silent for a moment, and then he resumed with more self-control.