I went to the bank. Everything was “lovely” there. Even Mr. Bristlebach was “lovely;” and that was a most unusual attitude for him. Captain Halliard dropped in to see me. He was “lovely.” Tom Flynn was in excellent spirits; but he took occasion to tell me something about his business affairs, so that I could distinctly understand what a sad mishap it would be to him if I should fail to pay him the four hundred dollars I owed him on Monday. I felt that I must pay him, and I decided to visit Springhaven on Saturday, and cajole Aunt Rachel into lending me the amount.
I went through my duties mechanically, but that day I lived on hope. I had ordered my dinner at home at half past three, which was the hour I usually dined. Lilian knew my habits, and I felt almost sure that I should find her in Needham Street. I believed that she loved me, and I could not believe that she would desert me. How my heart beat when I went into the English basement house! How it sank within me when Biddy failed to tell me that the “missus” was there. I dared not ask her any questions, lest she should discover the anxiety under which I was laboring.
I looked into the sitting-room. It was as empty as the tomb of all I desired to see. I went into the dining-room. The table was set for two, but one of the plates seemed to mock me. Lilian was not there. She was not in the kitchen. I went up stairs, but the same oppressive vacancy haunted every spot in the house. No Lilian was there, and without her the house was not home. The casket and all its appliances were there, but no jewel flashed upon my waiting, longing eyes.
There was no note in reply to mine. Biddy did not deliver any message to me. It was plain enough that she had not heard from the “missus.” I was sure that Lilian loved me, and that if left to herself she would come to me, even if I had been lodged in a prison instead of the palace I had provided for her. I ate my dinner alone and in silence. The dinner was a good one, but it would have been the same thing to me if the roast beef and mashed potato had been chips and shavings, so far as I had any interest in their flavor.
When the meal was finished I left the house, and wandered about the streets till tea-time. I kept walking without going anywhere; I kept thinking without knowing what I was thinking about. After I had been to supper, and Biddy had finished her work, she came into the sitting-room where I was looking at the blank sheets of the newspaper I held in my hand. She begged my pardon for coming. She wanted to know when the “missus” was to be at the house. I evaded an answer. She told me she couldn’t stay in a house with no missus in it. She didn’t “spake to a sowl all day long,” and she couldn’t “shtop in a house wid only a man in it. She had a charrackter, and people would be talking if she shtopped in a house wid only a man in it.” Of course I was utterly confounded at this complication of the difficulty, but I told her that if the “missus” was not able to come by Monday she might go, and I would pay her wages for an additional week.
“God bless your honor! but is the missus sick?” she asked.
“She is not very well, and does not like to leave her mother yet.”
She appeared to be satisfied, and I was permitted to spend another miserable night in the loneliness of my new home. I heard nothing from Lilian. I thought she might, at least, send me a note in reply to mine; but I knew that she acted upon the advice of “dear ma.” That strong minded woman evidently intended to bring me to terms. If possible, I was more resolute than ever.
Before I went to the bank the next morning I decided to write one more note—one which could not fail to bring the unpleasant matter to an issue within twenty-four hours. It was in the form of an advertisement, as follows:—