Mollie's Prince: A Novel

by Rosa Nouchette Carey

Moritz walked off into the inner room with his treasure. Would Mollie guess how her lover's heart beat almost to suffocation as he looked at the white vellum book with its clustering pansies?

"Little darling," he kept saying over and over to himself, "she must have known they were my favourite flowers." And then he looked at the first page and saw his name prettily illuminated. "Pansies, that's for thoughts," was the motto under it; and one or two pansies were drooping loosely underneath.

It was a dainty remembrance. Mollie had evidently not spared either time or thought for her friend. It was to be a token of her gratitude for all the pleasure Monsieur Blackie had given her, and for all his lavish gifts. But even Mollie could not guess, in the faintest degree, the intense joy that pansy pocket-book gave Ingram.

As he replaced it in its cover his eyes were dim, and his honest heart was recording its vows. If Mollie lived, her life's happiness, as far as human power could effect it, should be his task and joy. "My own darling, you are beginning to love me," he thought; "and now——" and then there was a stab of pain through the young man's heart, for how could he tell how long it would be before he saw "the angel laughing out of Mollie's eyes" again? When he went back into the other room he found Noel there. The nurse had arrived and had gone up to see her patient. And presently Everard came down to them.

He seemed a little surprised when Althea told him that Noel was going to stay with her cousin. "Moritz wants him, and they will be company for each other," she said. "It will be easier for him to go from there to St. Paul's by-and-bye." And as this was reasonable, Mr. Ward offered no objection. Then, at her suggestion, he sat down and wrote a few tender, urgent words to Waveney.

Althea took her leave after this. She had made another fruitless attempt to dissuade Moritz from going to Dr. Duncan; he was utterly unmanageable. "I mean to make a clean breast to him," he said, recklessly. "If he is a sensible man, he won't want any explanation. I shall tell him that Mr. Ward has influential friends, and that they wish a second opinion. Why, good heavens, Althea"—working himself up to a pitch of nervous excitement, "how do we know what that poor child needs, and that only money can buy?" And then Althea, with a vivid remembrance of that bare, dingy-looking room, wisely held her peace.

As she drove off she wondered vaguely, but without much interest, how Moritz was to keep up his masquerading at Eaton Square. Noel was a sharp-witted lad, as he had himself said, and there had been no opportunity of coaching the servants. An old retainer of the family, who had been the old viscount's butler, took care of the house when it was not occupied, and his wife and one or two maids kept a few rooms always in order. Moritz, who was a thorough Bohemian, had a habit of running up to town for a night or two as the fancy seized him, and he seldom announced his intention beforehand. More than once Mrs. Barham had been at her wits' end to make his lordship comfortable, but she soon got used to his odd ways, and now, when Moritz arrived at his town house, he was sure of finding his dining-room and library and a couple of bedrooms in first-rate order. Althea need not have wondered if she had listened to the brief conversation that took place between Moritz and Noel on their way to Eaton Square.

It was rather late, for Moritz, like an obstinate man, had had his way; he had left Noel in the cab and had seen the doctor alone. Though Dr. Duncan was a sensible man and no toady, he was much impressed by Lord Ralston's impetuous generosity. He could not deny, he said, that there were many things that his patient required, though he had forborne to name them, as he knew Mr. Ward had small means. Sir Hindley Richmond! Oh, certainly, he had no objection to meet him; but there was no need for that at present. He would keep it in mind; and Mr. Ward must be consulted. And then, after a little more talk, and a promise on the doctor's part to respect his confidence, the interview ceased. Moritz felt a little happier when he jumped into the hansom again. He thought Dr. Duncan had spoken hopefully of the case; and then, as he looked at the list in his hand, he foresaw a delightful morning's work before him.

To rush from shop to shop, to pay the highest price possible for each article, to order in fabulous quantities of the needed commodities, would be purest joy to him. If Mollie recovered she would find herself stocked for a year or two with eau-de-cologne and other good things.

"What an age you have been!" grumbled Noel. The poor lad was too cold and hungry and miserable to mind his manners. "Wasn't the old chap in?"