CHAPTER XXXIX.
THE HAZY MISTS ARE LIFTING
Colonel and Mrs. Hamilton arrived in Boston in due time. There had been long talks by the way, much questioning and wondering, but true to the dictates of a noble, generous soul, he had said, "Notwithstanding all, I will forgive."
When the train left the station for Kirkham on the following morning, many eyes were turned on the glittering colonel who, with his wife, entered the car and took a seat near the door.
"Let us go farther on;" requested Lillian, as he stepped back for her to enter. "There is a seat yonder."
"Yes, but twelve steps farther away from her;" and he laughed at the absurdities of his own heart.
"Do you know," she said at last, "there is a greater conflict before you than any in which you have engaged during the war? Mrs. Gaylord is no enemy, yet I believe you will be hardly able to resist her pleadings."
"Shall I remove my regimental straps now, or wait to lay my sword at her feet?"
"You may wait, but be assured it must be done! You can laugh now but you will pity her. Lily is fresh, sweet and pure, and has nestled close under the drooping wings of her pining love, and a wound must be made in the severing. Can you do this?"
"Little novice! Do you ask a soldier such a question as that?"
There was a serious look on his face, notwithstanding his careless words, but his heart was buoyant! It was his child that was so soon to rest her beautiful head so near it! His own darling who was to drive away the last of its desolation, and how could he intrude into its bright chambers, so full of sunshine, the sombre shadow of another's grief? He pitied her, and would use his influence to liberate her husband and send him out of harm's way. What more could he do for her? "She will ever have a claim on my sympathies, and every kindness I can bestow to ease her aching heart shall be cheerfully given; but Lillian, the wound must be made;" he said, after a long silence. "Our daughter, my dear, was taken by Mrs. Gaylord for the purpose of administering to this drooping love you are speaking of, and if by her gentleness, sweetness and purity, she has succeeded in awakening the sleepy bird, it is her glory, not her debt. But when you talk about the cripple, that is quite another thing. My warlike propensities beat a retreat immediately before the power of that battalion. They were children together; and it was only love and kindness in its purest guise that has united them, and to wound such a heart is a little hard."
Mrs. Hamilton sat a long time thinking of the prostrate form beneath the old oak tree as it first met her gaze. It was all over – the shady resorts were to be vacated forever; the path by the meadow brook would be trodden by other feet, while the little pond with all its enchantments was to be cast among the fond memories of the past. Lillian's heart grew sad as these gloomy prospects came to her. She was aroused at length by the call, "Kirkham – next station," and turned to behold her husband looking intently at her.
"As fine as a panorama, my dear," he said with a merry twinkle in his eye. "Your face has had all the changes of the 'dissolving views,' and I have been permitted to look at them without paying the usual quarter."
"A trifle dishonest, though, for a gentleman," was the playful retort; then added, seriously: "When two weeks ago I alone neared this station every nerve quivered with excitement! I was nearing my child – crossing the gulf of treachery that had so long separated me from happiness! My limbs trembled and nerves quivered! Instead of all this you are as calm and expectant as on the eve of meeting an old friend."
"Why not, little wife? You see the banks of this terrible gulf were lowered a little, when, nearly two years ago, my Lillian came over to meet me!"
"Here we are," interrupted the happy wife, rising from her seat; "gulf or no gulf we are coming together!"
The coachman bowed obsequiously as the two emerged from the car.
"Is Mrs. Gaylord still at the hotel?" inquired the lady.
"She is ma'am." And he closed the door and drove away. Not a word was spoken during the short ride, for an oppressive lull such as sometimes precedes a storm had settled down over the hearts of each, and it did not lift until the carriage stopped.
Mrs. Gaylord came into the parlor to greet the visitors with a hesitating step. She was alone! After the introductions Mrs. Hamilton asked for Lily. "Her father is so impatient to meet her," was the supplementary remark.
"She is spending the day with Willie, for the purpose, no doubt, of giving me a foretaste of what is to be."
"How far away," asked the colonel impatiently.
"Over two miles, yet she insisted upon walking there, as he had come for her before breakfast."
"I will speak for the carriage;" and he left the room hurriedly.
"My shadows which were almost impenetrable are nevertheless thickening," remarked Mrs. Gaylord when alone with Mrs. Hamilton. "News has just reached me that takes the light out of the borders of my clouds!"
"From the war?"
"Yes. Mr. Gaylord, it seems, has been taken prisoner while in citizen's dress, when out on a scouting expedition, and it is quite uncertain what will become of him. So many ties severed without time given for the healing, empties life too rapidly for the pulse to maintain its steady motion."
"It may be I can steady it a little! Your husband is in the hands of the regiment of which Colonel Hamilton has command, and he will use his powers to secure his liberty."
"Do you know this?"
"He has told me. Mr. Gaylord was brought in just as he was leaving for Washington. The debt of gratitude we owe would, if nothing else, have this influence."
"We are ready," called Colonel Hamilton from the hall, and Lillian taking the hand of Mrs. Gaylord said, soothingly:
"Cheer up, my dear friend, there is sunshine enough for us all if we will only secure it, and we will attempt to woo a little of it when all together once more;" and then went out to join her husband who was impatiently waiting.
"A true little country miss to take such a walk," he remarked as they rolled on towards the farm.
"She is used to it," interposed the coachman with true "Yankee" freedom; "she has gone over this road lots of times when she wasn't the young lady she is to-day! You are her father I suppose?"
Lillian laughed. "I have not introduced you, Frank. This is my husband, and I suppose you learned that Lily was my daughter when I was here before."
"Yes ma'am; and I'm glad! But I needn't 'a' been told that for one would know it to look at you."
"But a little more doubt about the father?" and Colonel Hamilton brought his hand down firmly on the shoulder of the Yankee questioner, while a merry peal of laughter rang out on the summer air.
"Wal – no; but there's the house – and the wheat is ripe enough this minute to harvest!"
"I will go to the door," said Lillian as they came to a halt at the gate; "Mrs. Hopkins, without doubt, is very busy with her dinner, and we will not disturb her by waiting for a reception." She stepped down while speaking and walked briskly towards the house. Before reaching it, however, the door flew open and Lily darted into the outstretched arms of her mother.
"I am so glad!" she exclaimed. "Come – Willie is sick and it may be you can help him!"
"But, my dear, just wait for one moment; your father wants to see you!"
In her excitement she had not thought of the carriage, or the reasons for the unexpected visit, or anything but that the companion of many years had been lying insensible on the bed where the departed one had bid them both farewell so long ago! But the words startled her, and she raised her head from its sweet rest on the dear shoulder to discover a tall military officer standing before them. All the dreams of her maturer years, winged as they had been with glowing aspirations of "what might be." She had so longed to be something besides "little Phebe," to have wings and fly away up among the clouds; to be a bird on the highest tree on the summit of the mountain; and now what was she?
"My daughter! My Lily!" and as he looked at the wondering face his arms were outstretched for the sweet love his great heart was longing for. Without a word the fairy form sprang into them and a pair of clinging arms were placed about his neck. Long and silent was the embrace for the heart was content.
"Darling, can you love your father? I am not as good-looking as the one you so much resemble, but will I do?"
The large eyes gleamed, and looking intently at him, said: "I think you will!"
He caught her again in his arms and covered her beaming face with kisses.
"There, darling; now let us go to Willie, for I confess that my warmed heart is reaching out for him also."
"O thank you! You will love him I know!" and she preceded her parents into the house. Mrs. Hopkins came forward to greet her visitors with traces of tears still on her cheeks.
"He is better now, and the doctor says it is only overexertion in the hot sun and perhaps a little worry with it," and she led the way to his room.
"I am so glad," Lily was saying with her arms about his neck as they entered. "We will not go out again until it is cooler!"
"But – " He saw Mrs. Hamilton and reached out his hand.
"Here is my husband, Willie, who has learned your worth before seeing you."
"A dull scholar I should be certainly if I had not."
"And you find me only a poor cripple who is obliged to creep through the dust just like any other worm!" He tried to smile but it proved a failure.
"No, my boy; not through the 'dust' just now, but into my heart, where, thank God, there is plenty of room for you!"
The physician, who had stepped out as they entered now returned, and walking up to the bed said, kindly: "You are all right now, Willie, but you must be a little careful of yourself for a few days and keep in the shade." And then he went away.
"You will stay to dinner?" pleaded Mrs. Hopkins; "I have nothing very nice to give you."
"Shall we, darling?" This to his daughter.
The beautiful eyes added their plea, and the carriage was ordered back to the hotel to return for them at five.
While sitting in the parlor Lily told her father of the mother's gift in the years gone by, adding: "He is my brother – I can never forsake him;" and the answer had been: "He shall not be forsaken. I am too grateful for what I have received willingly to sever a single thread that binds you to the friends of your past."
Mrs. Hopkins was standing in the door when these words were spoken, but turned away with a pain in her heart and a strange pallor on her usually flushed face.
That evening there was a long consultation in the little upper parlor of the village inn, and Mrs. Gaylord had repeated the plea: "You will let her remain with me until the summer heat is over? I cannot return home now if I would, and it would be insufferable here without her! As soon as the maple leaves shall crimson and the birds go where I cannot follow, I will come with her to Philadelphia and stand between you no more. It will take the intervening weeks to prepare my heart to endure the separation. Certainly you cannot refuse me this!" And the whole matter was given to the daughter for a decision. She whispered it at last in the ear of her doting father, as she hung about his neck while he petted and caressed her: "For Willie's sake, until he is stronger and able to return to Boston I will remain."
"Pretty hard, my darling, but as there is no appeal the subject is of course closed."
"But there is another of whom I have not told you, whose heart will rejoice at this decision," Lily remarked playfully.
"Not a lover I hope," interposed the father.
"Yes – a true lover! One who has helped me in many a trying hour, and whose advice it has always been safe to follow. You need not draw down that military mustache so threateningly, for this 'lover' is no other than 'Crazy Dimis,' who is even now free from the restraints of the 'county house' and is roaming about somewhere. She appeared to us yesterday out of the honeysuckle swamp, and with her usual earnestness exclaimed, as she pointed her long bony finger at me, 'Little fool, kiss and cry, kiss and cry, don't I know? Life is full of 'em; go, love is waiting – get it;
Eyes must weep – and eyes must hunger,
Love must sleep and life must wonder;
don't I know?' And with a loud laugh she darted into the thick shades and life was left to 'wonder.' There is a good deal of common sense in her gibberings, and when three years ago she told me to 'go and make omens' I obeyed, and came to Mrs. Gaylord, whose hands were full of cheering 'omens.'"
One week after the northern visit Colonel Hamilton received very decided orders from headquarters to return immediately to his regiment. "Lee must be intercepted."
"You must do it all alone, Lillian," was the quick remark when the telegram was read. "Howe & Brother will furnish all in the upholstery line that will be desired, and be sure that our home is made fitting the reception of our daughter."
How full the succeeding days were to the hopeful wife and mother! "She will be here at the first tinging of the maple trees." This she had said to her aunt. "Only a little more than two months in which to make all ready."
"Such a dainty bit of precious girlhood must not be allowed to step on the common ingrain that covers your old uncle's floors, I take it." This was a little improvised indignation as the good old uncle listened to the plannings and recountings of the luxuries that were to surround her in the home to be prepared. "But the fisherman's cot shouldn't be forgotten, Lillian, and so sometimes you will let her come to us?"
"What a wicked, naughty uncle you are!" Lillian exclaimed, while she smothered all further ebullitions of assumed anger by placing a little white hand over his mouth. "There! Now to punish you for those words I shall be at the store at five for you to go with me and look over the premises!"
"Want to blacken my fingers with the guilt of spoiling her do you? Well, well! A full half hour lost in palavering; good-bye," and the jovial uncle went out from his home leaving it full of sunshine.
October dawned bright and beautiful. The hazy mist that brooded over the city was tinted with hues of purple and gold as they became tangled with the many colored leaves that fell through the cool shadows in the public squares, and in a week Lily-Pearl Hamilton would arrive! One cloud only was shadowing the path of Mrs. Hamilton, and that the absence and dangers of him to whom her heart had clung through all the gloomy days; but in a few months his "three years" would close and then – how happy they would all be!
"If Pearl can succeed in getting Old Auntie and Lizzy safely here, as he assured me he could do," she had said, "my cup will be full to overflowing!"
"How will your mother bear all this?" queried Mrs. Cheevers.
"With no serious result I imagine. The doctor told me the other day that she was not susceptible of a very severe shock, her brain having become so inactive that no injury would probably come to it through excitement."
Suddenly recollecting that Pearl's mother was to meet her at the new home at ten she hastened away.
"Everything was perfect in the new home," was Mrs. Hamilton's conclusion, as with Lillian she walked from room to room. "Not massive and oppressive with a superabundance of heavy carvings and marble, but bright and cheerful in its display of luxury and beauty. Your taste is good, my daughter, and I think Pearl will commend it."
While at the tea-table that night a letter was brought in for Lillian. "From George," she said, breaking the seal. "A long one for an invalid certainly," and she unfolded the well-filled sheet and began its perusal. Finishing the first page she laid it upon her lap and folded her hand over it.
"Well," she said at length; then perceiving that her uncle and aunt were gazing quizzingly at her; "wonders are multiplying!" and she recommenced its perusal.
"Do stop her, wife, and make her tell what it is that brings such a queer look into her face! If I were a woman; but pshaw!" The wife laughed.
"In just one moment, Uncle," and Lillian turned the page. "He is nearly well, and – yes – he will accept my invitation to be here in Christmas week with his bride!"
"Hurrah! Another southern aristocrat mixing up with northern plebeianism I reckon! What's that quotation, wife? 'To be seen is to be loved?'"
"No, no! You are talking about vice! 'To be hated needs only to be seen.' But this is a wife!"
"O, well I never could remember poetry. George to be married! All right! I will give him welcome to his miseries! But who is the fair one?"
"The daughter of the widow with whom they are staying; one fully worthy to bear the honored name of St. Clair. So he writes."
"The same old silly story; but I am glad of it! Let me see – when is that 'Lily-Pearl' to get here? I cannot wait much longer!"
"And you will not be obliged to do so. I shall expect her now on every train, for there was something in her letter that appeared like surprising. She said 'a week at the farthest, but I am so impatient to get close to my mother once more that I fear I cannot wait much longer for Mrs. Gaylord to smooth down her ruffles.'"
She did wait, however, but the day came when the carriage containing the long lost daughter with her escort and servant stopped before the door of Mrs. Hamilton's temporary home and alighted. What a rush of emotion came into the heart of the young girl when she remembered that beneath that roof was the one who had been the cause of all her desolations and roamings! But they were over now, and with a light tread she darted up the marble steps and rang the bell.
"By surprise after all," she remarked, turning to Mrs. Gaylord, who was following. The door flew open and with an exclamation of joy she sprang into her mother's embrace.
"The train is not due for five minutes," Lillian said at last, finding breath to speak. "I was just coming to the door to watch down the street as I have done for many days."
But why attempt to picture the scenes of bliss that followed? All hearts in the broad circle of love save one opened wide to receive its new accessions. Mrs. Cheevers could never tire of eulogizing her pretty ways and simplicity of manners, while the husband reiterated fully twice each day that even his pet, Lillian, never came up to her daughter in good looks or winning ways.
Still Mrs. Belmont utterly refused to see her grandchild. In vain did Lillian assure her that the past had been severed forever, and Lily only waited to tell her this, but her answering wail of agony was truly pitiful to hear.
"No – no!" she would say, "I cannot, O, I cannot! Keep her away! Keep her away! O God! But he will not hear? Don't let her come, Lillian my child. I did it! So cruel! So wicked!" With streaming eyes Lillian would pet and caress her mother with most earnest solicitude.
Day after day passed with no better results. She would not see Lily, neither would she be taken to the beautiful home on Broad street. "Let me die here," she would plead, when told of the pretty room that had been fitted up for her – so nearly like the one at Rosedale. But she shrank at the very recital and settled down in her easy chair like a weary child who desires to be let alone.
"What shall I do!" This from Mrs. Hamilton, one morning coming into the presence of her daughter, after one more fruitless attempt. "She will never consent to leave here, and I cannot go without her. Neither do I like to use compulsion."
"Why not wait for Father? Perhaps he can persuade her."
"For two months, darling?"
"If no better thing can be done."
The mother smiled. "Perhaps you are correct. This may be best. I think we will wait."
CHAPTER XL.
AUNT VINA IN THE NEW HOME
The weeks succeeding the incidents of our last chapter sped rapidly by. Winter came with its chilling winds, rifling the waving branches of their many colors, leaving them bare and unsightly; while it spread now and then over the seared lawns a pure white covering of snow, to hide for a time its sad work; and upon all this Mrs. Belmont looked with dreamy listlessness from her window. What was beauty, death, or change to her now, shut out as she was from the past, and in fear of the future? When kind hearts attempted to gain her consent to have the monotony of life broken she would plead: "No, no, let me stay here! It is cold, I cannot go! Lillian, my child, don't let her come! She will look at me with her large eyes, so much like my baby's! It would kill me!"
What was Mrs. Hamilton to do? The elegant home on Broad street was waiting, and Christmas week approaching. She could not leave her mother to be a burden to others, and Lily said, "perhaps Father can persuade her;" and so they lingered for his coming.
"Unless some imperative duties shall arise to prevent I will run home for a Christmas dinner," he had written.
The opening of the holidays came at last, as all bright places in life come and flit past, and Colonel Hamilton returned on leave to his home with buoyant spirits, for he did not come alone. Aunt, Vina, with her broad, good-natured face, followed the gaily dressed officer from the carriage, and close behind her walked Lizzie and little Bobby. "For Miss Lillian, I'se couldn't leave him," was the earnest exclamation preceding the greeting.
"No more could you Lizzie, and we could never have gotten along without little Bobby," and Mrs. Hamilton caught the diminutive mulatto of ten in her arms and kissed his plump yellow cheek.
Never was a mother more heartily welcomed by her child than was 'old Aunt Vina,' by her pet of former years. "Bress de Lord, honey! I thought dese old arms wouldn't neber hold my sweet darlin' no more!" she exclaimed, as tears coursed rapidly over her cheeks. "But de Missus, honey? Old Vina's eyes ache to look on her once more; de poor dear! Massa says she's dreffle bad, but de Lord knows what's bes'!"
"Why did you not tell me about this?" asked Lillian of her husband as soon as the dear old arms had liberated her sufficiently to permit her to do so. "It would have helped in the waiting if I had had the opportunity of anticipating a little?"
"I was not sure of succeeding in my project myself until three days ago," he answered, between the repeated caresses he was lavishing on his beautiful daughter.
"She's just like her mudder," interposed Aunt Vina; "and dis old heart's got her fast!"
"Let it hold her, Vina, and permit her young life to draw as much good from its hidden treasures as my darling wife has received," and Colonel Hamilton placed the hand of his child in the old negress's grasp. "Let your motherly love widen sufficiently to make room for both of my treasures, will you?"
"Dat I will, and place enough for de missus too!" Here a hearty laugh all around, in which Mr. and Mrs. Cheevers joined in merrily.
The day after to-morrow would be Christmas, and a small party was expected in the new home. How much there was to be done before that time! "The first thing of all," said Lillian, emphatically, "is to get Mother to Broad street! We have everything in readiness – a cook and maid of all work secured."
"And nobody wants 'em," chimed in Lizzie. "Reckon Vina an' me knows all dat!"
"Yes, and after our little fete is over you two shall be fully enstalled as advisory committee in our quiet domain, while Bobby can wait on the door and learn to be a man. I suppose you know that you are no longer slaves, and, unless I am very good to you, some day you may take into your kind old heads to leave me."
"Neber, Missus!" chimed in two voices at the same time.
Dinner was now ready for the hungry travelers, but Mrs. Hamilton could not eat. "I will go to Mother," she said, "for she will hear the voices and perhaps recognize them."
Mrs. Belmont was alone, for Mrs. Jackson had been dismissed upon the arrival of the daughter into the household; and Mrs. Gaylord had immediately gone to visit a relative in another part of the city with a promise to return to them for a few weeks after all were settled. Lillian opened the door of the chamber with some trepidation. As she did so two large eyes were fastened upon her with a speechless wonder lighting up their slumbering fires.
"I came to eat dinner with you, Mother," the daughter said cheerily, coming to her side. "Not tasted it? I am in good time then. It will spoil if you allow it to get cold. This chicken pie is not the way Aunt Vina used to get it up, is it? But I like it quite as well. Let us try it."
"Has she come?"
"Who, Mother?"
"Vina."
"Yes, and Lizzie, with little Bobby."
"And he?"
"Who?"
"Charles."
"No, Mother, but he is at Rosedale, well and hopeful. You know some one is needed there to take care of the place and servants. But Pearl is below stairs and will be here to see you after dinner."
The good things on the small table, however, remained untouched, for the once proud mistress of Rosedale was silently watching the curtain, that had fallen around her world, slowly move one side, as the panorama of the past came laggardly to view. Lillian watched the changing expression on the thin face with interest, unwilling to interrupt the ebbing emotions she was sure were casting their flitting shadows upon it. Not until the sound of feet coming along the hall, and then halting before the door, was a word spoken. "Mother; Pearl has come," and, without permission, Lillian arose and opened the door.
"Just as I left you;" he exclaimed, cheerfully, stepping to the side of the invalid's chair. "Surely you have not been sitting here all the time?"
She did not move or look at him.
"It is too bad to stay in this one room so long, and to-day we will have a change. In an hour, Lillian, there will be a carriage at the door, and we will take Mother to another room, where she will not be obliged to look upon the same wall of brick and stone always."
She started, and her gaze rested on the manly face so near her own.
"Not a word," he responded, playfully, placing his hand over her mouth, "I am going to show you one of the brightest rainbows that has ever spanned your blue sky of life. All the brighter, dear Mother, for the dark clouds behind it. You are looking much better than when I went away; and that scarlet shawl gives quite a healthy glow to your cheeks. How happy we shall be! In a few months my army life will come to an end; then I will throw up my commission and be one among you, and let Rosedale go to its rightful owner, – we can be happier without it."
"Charles?" said the feeble voice.
"Shall be where his mother can enjoy him. In an hour, remember, we will go. Wrap warmly, for it is cold outside;" and, without another word, Colonel Hamilton left the room.
"Now, Mother, you must eat something, for you will want strength for your ride."
She obeyed, and, without speaking, did good justice to the ample meal. The firm will of a strong controlling mind had conquered, and Mrs. Belmont submitted to every suggestion without an opposing gesture.
The servants, immediately after dinner, were taken to their new quarters, with Lily as their mistress, and then the Colonel returned in the carriage for his wife and mother. He found her warmly cloaked and shawled, but every nerve trembled as one shivering with ague. Not apparently noticing it, he said, merrily, "How the boys in blue would envy me," and he placed his arm around the shrinking form to aid the timid feet down the long flight of stairs. "To be a lady's gallant is a luxury not often indulged in by us poor soldiers. The air is delicious out of doors; it will give you new life and strength. There now, you are all right, safe on terra firma!" And slowly he led her on.
Mechanically she moved through the hall to the outer door, down the marble steps, and was lifted into the carriage with many a lively sally from Lillian, who followed full of wonder. As carefully was she assisted out again on arriving at her destination; and entering the splendid drawing-room looked wildly about her.
"Right here, Mother, in this easy chair;" and her tender escort seated her near the register.
"Jus' you let me do dis;" calmly said Vina, coming up to her once stately mistress, and she began removing her wrappings. "Dar's no use ob dese old hands forgettin' how. And Missus, I'se mighty glad de good Lord sent 'way down to Georgy after this ere gal, 'cause He knowed dar was no one like old Vina could do for de missus."
All the time the faithful hands were at work, while the brightening eyes of the invalid were scanning the kindly face of the old slave.
When all wraps were removed and passed to Lizzy to take from the room, she took her thin white hand in her dusky palm, and, kneeling by the chair, said plaintively; "Bress de Lord! Let ebery body bress Him, for He is good! O Missus! Vina's heart is big, 'cause it's so glad! Bress de Lord!"
The other white hand was lifted slowly and placed on the bowed head of the negress as the pale lips muttered, "Bless the Lord! Pray, pray!"
"Glory!" and the old servant sprang to her feet.
"De angels will clap dar hands wid joy! Missus is goin' to de mansions by-and-by!"
A quiet glow of peace stole into the restless eyes, as Mrs. Belmont listened, and settling down in her easy chair, she really looked like the picture of contentment, as the Colonel asserted, entering as Vina went out.
Mr. and Mrs. Cheevers were to take a quiet tea with them, and, as the uncle declared, "would bring along the horse-shoe, as there would be no good luck without it." And soon all were seated in the drawing-room in pleasant conversation, to which Mrs. Belmont apparently gave no heed. An hour passed, when the careful mistress, who was, indeed, troubled about many things, took the arm of her husband and went into the parlor opposite.
"She is so tranquil; how can we disturb her?" was the first ejaculation.
"We will not disturb her my dear."
"But what about Lily?"
"What about her? Why she's the sweetest darling – "