Lilly: Bride of Illinois (American Mail-Order Bride 21) Read Online Free

a plate of food. And, do not go out in the hall or talk to anyone.”
    Lilly stood in the middle of the room, staring at the door the woman just departed from. What—and why stay away from other people?
    Lilly pulled at the top front of the dress, embarrassed at the lack of material to cover her shoulders properly. The satin gown had obviously been worn many times before; instead of long sleeves, it had short sleeves—which was not the proper attire for a respectable lady. Lilly had a very limited wardrobe in her bag, but she did have a white shawl which she wrapped around her shoulders and arms.
    The fifteen minute “nap” on the lumpy bed in a cold room made her more tired than rested, and her stomach still growled after eating the sandwich made out of white bread, a smear of butter and a thin slice of ham.
    She desperately needed sleep, so she hoped this “meeting” with the music person was short so she could go back to the room for a long slumber.
    “Miss Lind,” Mr. Hardesty gestured to the man on the stage, “I’d like you to meet Mr. Boswell, who will play the piano and listen to your voice. Please face him in front of the music stand and sing the song from the music sheets.” He paused before asking, “I assume you can read English music?”
    “ Yes, I can. Hello, Mr. Boswell. I’m afraid my voice is not in the best shape due to my week of traveling to Chicago.” The middle–aged man looked more like a vagabond than a music director, but apparently he could play the piano.
    “That’s all right. I can still hear if you have good pitch, Miss Lind,” Mr. Boswell said as he played the song on the piano, apparently so she could listen to the tune. “Start in when I nod to you.”
    Lilly struggled to sing and follow along with the tempo the pianist played. Luckily she had heard the song before so she wasn’t totally lost reading the music.
    “Not bad—considering she’s an immigrant,” Mr. Hardesty said to Mr. Boswell, causing Lilly’s temper to rise because they were judging her status, and they were talking as if she wasn’t standing right there in front of them.
    “Let’s hear you sing an American song a cappella. Do you know what that means?” Mr. Boswell asked.
    “Yes, it means to sing without being accompanied by an instrument,” Lilly answered, trying not to snap back at him. What American song do I know by heart which I can impress them with?
    Lilly stood straight, lowered her shoulders and started clearly singing, “Oh say can you see, by the dawn’s early light…”
    After she hit the highest note right on pitch and finished the song, both gentlemen stood and clapped. “Very nice, Miss Lind, even if you are tired today.”
    The men sat down, looking at each other in thought, until Mr. Hardesty said, “The Swedish Nightingale’s last name was also Lind, correct? It’s been a few decades since Jenny Lind came to America and gave a lot of large–scale concerts for P. T. Barnum.” He twisted his mouth in thought. “You aren’t by chance a relative of hers, Miss Lind? Perhaps a cousin, or her niece?”
    “No, sir, I’m sure we are not related.”
    “Oh, that’s right. You immigrants usually change your name when you come over here. What is your Swedish name?” Mr. Hardesty raised his eyebrows questioning her.
    “Lilly Lind.” For some reason she didn’t feel safe telling him her original name.
    He nodded his head in deference to her refusal to say anything else. “Mr. Boswell, we’ll talk about this later. Miss Lind, I’m sure you’re very hungry. Let’s you and me adjourn to my office for an early dinner before the evening crowd arrives. After we eat you can go back up to your room. I’m sure you’ll look forward to a long restful sleep in a real bed tonight.”
    Lilly took his extended hand, but hesitated when he said they would dine alone. But then, if they were going to become man and wife, this was their opportunity to get to know each other. But she