Democratic Sentinel, Volume 7, Number 10, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 6 April 1883 — MOLLIE'S MATCH-MAKING. [ARTICLE]

MOLLIE'S MATCH-MAKING.

A dainty parlor with numerous easychaira—a glowing fire in the nickel* trimmed heater—a pretty little woman listening for the footsteps of the lord and master. T i t charming picture of domestic bliss John Ackerman fully appreciated as he stepped into the room a few minutes later. “Well, Mollie, what’s the news?” “Oh, nothing, only supper has been waiting half an hour. Come, let us hurry and eat; I wont to talk with you.” “I thought there was something on your mind; didn’t know but I was going to get a lecture for being late.” “You deserve one, for this is the last evening I shall spend with you for two whole weeks; shows how highly you appreciate your wife’s society.” Mrs. John Ackerman tried to frown, but failed completely. In another half hour they were book in the cheery parlor, and Mollie began: “I think Tom is a splendid fellow, and thei-e were never two brothers more alike than you and he.” “Thank you, my dear; I honor your judgment.” “And, John, I have the most brilliant plan concerning him!” “Do tell!” John said, with a movement toward his coat pocket, where the evening paper lay in uncut solitude. Mollie observed the motion, and promptly informed him that he should not read a word until she was through talking. “I am going away to-morrow, and then you may read the paper from the time you enter tlxe house until midnight, with no one to bother you,” she said, as John showed signs of insubordination. Somehow, the vision of the little parlor without Mollie’s lively chatter did not seen to strike him very favorably; perhaps this was why he tossed the paper to the other side of the room, and obediently promised to listen. Mollie perched herself on ono arm of his choir and commenced: “You know my sister Amy is conxing home with me for a long visit, and don’t you think it would be splendid if she and Tom would fall in love with each other ? They could get married and set up housekeeping in the cottage like this one across the street, and—oh, John, it would make me perfectly happy!” John Ackerman laxighed long and heartily. “Match-making, by Jove!” he said at last. “Miserable yourself, and want everybody else to be; is -that, it MoJlie?” “Don’t laugh, John, for I’m in earnest. I know they will like each other, and I have set my heart on the match; just think how nice it would be to have Amy here always; and Tom is such a darling! Amy should furnish her parlor just like ours, only where this is blue her’s should be cardinal, for she is dark, you know. John was laughing again by this time, and it took considerable management to reduce him to oi'der. This once accomplished, he fell in with the plan readily enough. “I tell you what it is, Mollie; you don’t want to say a word of this to Tom or Amy, or they will take a dislike to each other immediately.” “I know it,” wisely rejoined Mollie. “"When I told Tom I was going to visit Aunt Hetty I did not mention Amy’s name, and I don’t think he knows of her existence; as for Amy, I have been with her so little since I was married that I am sure I never spoke to her of Tom." “Wall, see that you don’t do so now; you couldn’t mention his name without praising him to the skies, and she would see through your plans at once.” Mollie departed the next morning, leaving directions enough to distract a man if he tried to remember half of them. John did not try; he only had a confused recollection of something to be dono with plants, silver spoons, ca-nary-birds, etc. Jenny, the servant, would know all about it, he reflected. “Don’t have Tom at the house when we return,” was Mollie’s last injunction. “Amy will be tired with the journey, and I want her to have a chance to beautify a little before she meets him.’’

When they reached the depot Mollie’s courage began to -fail. ' “I am almost sorry to go, John,” she said. “Suppose something should hap* pen to you while I ajn away ?” “Nonsense, darling! Go and have a good time; and be sure and come back in two weeks and bring Amy with you.” Mollie’s heart was so thoroughly in her pet plan that she found it very hard to refrain from all mention of her adorable brother-in-law during the two weeks that followed; once she did refer to the cozy party of four which they would make, and then she was obliged to turn it off on Jenny, the little maid of all work as making the fourth. The day before Mollie was to return Aunt Hetty fell ill. A nervous attack she called it, but Mollie privately announced it contrariness. Aunt Hetty deolared she must die if left alone with the servants, and Amy felt obliged to fiostpone her visit for a few days at east. Mollie could go on as she had intended, and she would follow as soon as Aunt Hetty could spare her. Thus it happened that Mollie had arrived home alone. “Amy will certainly come up next week,” she assured John; "but X could pot wait another day. It seems an age since I went away.” Jt was so pleasant to be at home onoe more and mistress of all she surveyed; a note from 4wy saying she would oome

on the following Saturday set her mind completely at rest. She was really sorry to hear John say, one morning: “I think we had better take that run down to Camden’s to-day. We must go sometime this month, and of coarse you won’t want to go after your sister comes.” “John, yon know we cannot stay away all night; I gave Jenny leave of absence until Friday, and it won’t do to leave the house alone.” “11l get Tom to come and sleep here.” Mollie had no other reasonable objection to offer at this, so she prepared to go. “There are three keys,” said she, as they left the house. “You can give one to Tom, and I will leave one with Mrs. Gates, next door. The house might get on fire, and then it would be better to have a key handy, so they could get in the house and bring the things out.” “Yes,” said John, sarcastilj; “or I might hire a squad of pohcemea to watch the house day and night.” About 11 o’clock that evening Miss Amy Arden alighted from an express and looked about the depot as if ex* pec ting some one. “They could not have receiyed my second postal,” she concluded, after waiting nearly half an hour in the ladies’ room. “Well, I can very easily .find the house.” A hack soon deposited her in front of the pretty cottage on Lake street; all was dark, and Amy pulled the bell several times without hearing a sound from within. Where could Mollie and John have gone? There was a bright light in the next house, and Amy remembered hearing her sister speak of her kind neighbor, Mrs. Gates 1 perhaps they were spending the evening wish her, or, at any rate, she might know of her whereabouts. Amy ran across the small grass plot which separated the two cottages and rang the bell. Mrs. Gates soon explained matters. “You do look a little like Mrs. Ackerman when you laugh,” she said in conclusion, “so I suppose its all right to let you have the key ; but she wasn’t looking for you until Saturday.” “She probably did not receive my second postal, wlnoh I mailed yesterday morning.” “Well, 111 give you the key, of course; but are you not afraid to stay alone in the house?” “Oh, I’m not at all timid,” laughed Amy. “But there’s a gang of burglars about the city,” urged Mrs. Gates. “They’ve been in three houses on this street, and only last Sunday night there was a dreadful robbery on State street, and a woman nearly killed. You are welcome) to come iu and sleep on our parlor sofa, if you are afraid.” “No, thank you,” Amy said. “I will risk it for one night, and you say John and Mdilie will return to-morrow." She let herself into the deserted house, not without some thrills of fear, it must be confessed. How quiet everything was! Oh, if Mollie was only there 1 She took a survey of the rooms, the neat kitchen last of all, where she concluded to look for something to eat. Hark! what was that? Only the silvertoned clock striking the midnight hour.

“That woman's talk about burglars has made me nervous,” she thought, continuing her search for eatables. Hark, again! Surely that was a key turning in a lock; then a ck>or opened and shut quietly, and there were footsteps in the hall. Amy’s small stock of courage went down to aero. What would happen next ? Instinctively she grasped the poker lying on the range near her. The next instant the door opened, and a' great broad-shouldered man with blackened .face and hands stepped into the room. Amy felt herself growing white with fear, but she raised her poker threatingly; for a moment they stared at each other in silence, then the man spoke. “Who the are you?” Amy tried to shriek for help, but the sound died away in her throat; she was too thoroughly frightened to speak or move. Presently the man came toward her. “Will you please lower the poker, or else move away from the sink ? I would like to come there and wash my hands,” he said, looking very much inclined to laugh. Was ever such effrontery known before? Still speechless, Amy moved around toward what-looked to be an outside door. “Don’t ‘glare at me in that frightful way," he went on, with a glance into her terror-stricken eyes. “I will look more presentable when I get my face washed.” Then came a hearty langh, which reassured Amy a very little. Certainly this was a most extraordinary burglar, or else there was some ricftculous mistake. She would flee to Mrs. Gates’ protection, at all events, she thought, propping her weapon and tugging away at the huge bolt w ith trembling fingers. By this time the young man had finished his ablutions, and presented quite a different appearance. “I am Mr. Ackerman’s brother,” he said, politely; “he asked me to remain in his house to-night, as a means of protection in his absence.” “Mr. Ackerman has no brother,” contradicted Amy, stoutly, “Are you sure of that?” “Certainly I am. Mrs. Ackerman has just made me a visit, and she would have mentioned him if such a person existed.” “Can it be possible you are Aunt Hetty?” “Aunt Hetty, indeed!” Amy was finding courage and voioe fast enough now. “I beg your pardon,” said Tom; “but Mollie told me she was going to visil her Aunt Hetty, and you said she had been visiting you; henoe my mistake.’ “I am Mrs. Aekerman’s sister.” “Strange I never heard* her speak ol you! However, lam sorry I frightened you, Miss—Miss Arden, and if you will allow me I will explain matters. lam a bookeeper at Bolton’s hardware establishment ”

“You looked more ii£e a bootblack,” interrupted Amy, "ready to cry with vexation and nervousness. “Or a burglar,” added Tom. "Well, as I was saying, I am book-keeper there, bnt there was a press of work in the foundry to-night, and, as they happened to be abort of hands, I offered to stay and assist; this accounts for my late arrival, also for my blackened face and hands. Have yon examined the photograph album ?" he asked, suddenly. “If you will kindly do so, I think you will lind a very good representation of me there, which will convince you that I am on terms of intimacy here, at least.” He looked very much like indulging in another hearty laugh, but restrained

himself at the sight of Amy’s white, distressed face. “lam afraid I was rude,” she said; “but it was such a shook to me; lam verv tired and ” Tom sprang to her side, or she would have fallen from sheer exhaustion. He helped her into the parlor, brought wine and refreshments from Mollie’s generous store-room, and they were soon talking matter over quite calmly. It was after 2 o’clock when Tom proposed to go and ask Mrs. Gates to come over for the rest of the night; bat Amy protested against this, saying she was not afraid if he would remain in the house.

Mollie was almost beside herself when she came home and found how affairs had gone in her absence; erring one minute over Amy’s fright, laughing the next over Tom's graphic description of the same, it was some time before they settled down into anything like quiet. As the days and weeks went by Mollie could not determine whether certain plans of her were to prosper or not. Tom spent all his evenings with them, but he ‘ and Amy were alWays on contrary sides of every question, and they tantalized each other so unmercifully that poor Mollie sometimes despaired of them being friends, not to mention a nearer' relation. Of one thing she was certain; she never tormented her John in this ridiculous fashion. They were all together as usual, one evening, and Tom for the hundredth time was describing Amy’s appearance on that memorable evening when she so nearly brained him for a burglar. “And little did I suspect then,” he went on, soberly, “that she would ever have the privilege of brandishing the poker over me for life.”

“What do you mean?” cried Mollie, staring first at Tom’s solemn visage and and thfen at Amy’s flushed cheeks. Just what I said. Amy and I are going to set up housekeeping in the opposite cottage, where I suppose she will continue to flourish all sorts of murderous weapons at me.” “John, darling, it’s coming about exactly as we planned,” shouted Mollie, springing up in excitement. I spare the reader the congratulatory scene that followed. Tom declares that it was worse than being taken for a burglar. Well, it did come about just as Mollie desired. Mrs. Amy even made cardinal the predominating color in her parlor, and it harmonizes charmingly with the dark beauty of the mistress. The sisters are inseparable, and as happy as two mortals can ever expect to be. Tom is something more than book-keeper in the Bolton hardware business now, and he and John are talking of buying two handsome properties in the suburbs of the city. Mrs. Mollie declares that she would rather remain in the little home ou Lake street, but what woman was ever proof against a handsome establishment in an aristocratic neighborhood? Not our little Mollie, I am sure.