Elsie's Widowhood

by Martha Finley

  CHAPTER XIX.

  "A mother is a mother still, The holiest thing alive." --_Coleridge._

  The next morning's mail brought a letter from Mr. Dinsmore, announcinghis speedy coming with his wife, father, Mr. and Mrs. Edward Allison,and several of their children.

  "There's an end to our good times!" sighed Violet.

  "Shall you be so very sorry to see your grandpa?" her mother asked witha slight smile, knowing that her father was dearly loved by all herchildren, and by none more than by Violet herself.

  "Oh no, mamma; nor grandma, nor any of them," was the quick reply; "onlyit was so nice to have you so entirely to ourselves."

  "Haven't you enjoyed it too, mamma?" asked several voices, while everyface turned eagerly and inquiringly to hers.

  "Yes, indeed, my darlings," she said; "and yet so dearly do I love myfather that my heart bounds at the very thought that he will be with meagain in a few hours."

  "Then, mamma, we are all glad for you," Elsie said: Violet adding, "andfor ourselves, too; for it is nice to have grandpa and grandma with us;and Aunt Adelaide also; she is always so kind."

  "Very different from Aunt Louise," remarked Edward. "Who would everthink they were sisters! Isa and Virginia are quite as unlike, too,though they are sisters. I hope Aunt Louise and her old-maid daughterwon't visit us this summer!"

  "Edward!" his mother said in a tone of reproof.

  "Excuse me, mother," he said; "but if I dislike them, it is because theyhave always treated you so badly."

  "They have never done me any injury, my son," she answered, with gentlegravity, "and I would not have you feel unkindly toward them; much lessam I willing to hear you speak of them as you did just now. Virginia isnot an old maid, and if she were I should be sorry to have you applythat epithet to her."

  "She is several years older than I am, mother," he said, blushing.

  "About three; and you are only a boy."

  Edward felt this as the most cutting rebuke his gentle mother had everadministered to him, for he had begun to think of himself as a man, oldenough and strong enough to be his mother's stay and support, and aguide to his younger brothers and sisters.

  But sensible that he had deserved the reproof, he bore it in silence;yet could not rest until seizing an opportunity to speak to her withoutbeing overheard by others, "Dear mamma," he whispered, lookingbeseechingly into her eyes, "will you not forgive my thoughtless,uncharitable speech of this morning?"

  "Certainly, my dear boy," she answered with one of her sweetest smiles,"and I trust you will try to cultivate more kindly feelings toward yourgrandpa's sister and niece, for his sake, and because it is a Christianduty."

  Mr. Dinsmore and his party arrived that afternoon, and the next day werefollowed by Mrs. Conly and Virginia.

  "We thought we would give you a surprise," was the greeting of theformer: "the heat and threats of yellow fever drove us North. Iscattered the younger children about among other relatives, leavingseveral at your house, Adelaide, then came on here with Virgie, knowingthat Elsie would of course have room enough for us two."

  "We will find room for you, Aunt Louise," Elsie said with pleasantcordiality, and trying hard to feel rejoiced at their coming.

  A very difficult task, as they never were at the slightest pains to makethemselves agreeable, and the house was already comfortably filled.

  Edward waited only to shake hands hastily with his aunt and cousin,then slipped away for a solitary stroll on the beach while he shouldfight down his feelings of disgust and irritation at this unwelcome andunwarrantable invasion of his mother's dwelling.

  He had asked that morning if he might invite his college chum, CharliePerrine, to spend a week or two with him, and had received a prompt andkind permission to do so. It seemed hard enough to have to entertain,instead, these relatives, between whom and himself there had always beena cordial dislike; for from early childhood he had perceived andstrongly resented the envy, jealousy and ill-will indulged in by themtoward his mother.

  He paced hurriedly to and fro for some minutes, striving, with butindifferent success, to recover his equanimity, then stood still, gazingout to sea, half inclined to wish himself on board an outward-boundvessel in the offing.

  Presently a hand took quiet possession of his arm, and turning his headhe found his mother standing by his side.

  "I am grieved to see my boy's face so clouded," she said in her sweetand gentle tones.

  "Then, mother, it shall not be so any longer," he answered, resolutelyforcing a smile. "I have been really trying to feel good-natured, but itis not easy under the circumstances. Not to me, I mean. I wish I hadinherited your sweet disposition."

  "Ah, you can judge only from outside appearances," she said with a sighand a smile; "no one knows what a battle his neighbor may be fighting inhis own heart, while outwardly calm and serene. I know you aredisappointed because you fear you must give up inviting your friend forthe present, but that will not be necessary, my dear boy. We can stillmanage to make room for him by a little crowding which will hurt no one.My room is so large that I can easily take Walter and all your sistersin with me, and if necessary we will pitch a tent for the servants."

  "Or for Charlie and me, mother," he exclaimed in delight; "we should notmind it in the least; indeed it would be good fun to live so for awhile."

  At this moment they were joined by Elsie and Violet, both full ofsympathy for Edward, and anxious to consult mamma as to the possibilityof still making room for the comfortable accommodation of his friend.

  They listened with delight to her proposed arrangement: it would be agreat pleasure to them to share her room, if it would not inconvenienceher, and she assured them it would not.

  "I was afraid," said Elsie, "that Aunt Adelaide might hurry away to makeroom for the others, but now I hope she will not, for we all enjoyhaving her with us."

  "No," Mrs. Travilla said, "we will keep her as long as we can. Ah, herecome my father and grandfather. I think we shall astonish them with thenews of the arrival."

  "Cousin Donald is with them too," remarked Elsie. "Mamma, I thinkVirginia will be rather pleased to see so fine looking a gentlemanhaunting the house."

  "Her sister's brother-in-law," said Vi. "Perhaps she will claim him asmore nearly related to her than to us."

  The young man had found favor with both Mr. Dinsmores, and the threewere just returning from a pretty long tramp together which had causedthem to miss seeing the arrival of Mrs. and Miss Conly.

  The news seemed to give more surprise than pleasure.

  "It was very thoughtless in Louise," the old gentleman said with somevexation, "but it is just like her. I think we must find rooms for themat one of the hotels, Elsie; for I don't see how your house is toaccommodate us all."

  "I do, grandpa," was her smiling rejoinder, "so make yourself perfectlyeasy on that score."

  "I hope our excursion is not to be interfered with, cousin?" Donald saidinquiringly: for arrangements had been made for a long drive thatafternoon, taking in several of the neighboring sea-side resorts, and ashis three lady cousins had promised to be of the party, he was loath togive it up.

  "No," she said, "Aunt Adelaide and Aunt Louise will doubtless be wellpleased to be left alone together for a few hours, after a separation ofseveral years."

  "Besides, both my aunt and cousin will need a long nap to refresh themafter the fatigue of their journey," remarked Edward.

  The young people exchanged congratulatory glances. They were all eagerfor the drive. It was just the day for it, they had all decided--theroads in excellent condition after the late rain, a delicious sea-breezeblowing, and light fleecy clouds tempering the heat of the July sun.

  They set off directly after an early dinner--all the Dinsmores andTravillas, Mr. Allison and his children and Mr. Keith--in two coveredcarriages, and well provided with waterproofs for protection against apossible shower.

  They were a pleasant, congenial party, the older people ch
eerful andcompanionable, the children full of life and spirits.

  They had visited Seagirt, Spring Lake and Asbury Park, and were passingthrough Ocean Beach, when Edward, catching sight of a young couplesauntering leisurely along on the sidewalk, uttered an exclamation,"Why, there's Charlie Perrine!" then calling to the driver to stop, hesprang out and hurried toward them.

  "His college chum--and how glad they are to meet," Violet said as thetwo were seen shaking hands in the most cordial manner.

  Then Perrine introduced Edward to his companion, and the lad's sistersnoticed that his face lighted up with pleased surprise as he grasped herhand.

  "Why, I know her!" cried Donald. "Excuse me one moment, ladies;" and hetoo sprang out and hastened to join the little group on the sidewalk.

  He and the lady met like very intimate friends, greeting each other as"Donald" and "Mary:" then he led her to the side of the carriage andintroduced her. "My cousin Mary Keith, Uncle Donald's daughter; ourcousins, Miss Elsie and Miss Violet Travilla."

  The girls shook hands and exchanged glances of mutual interest andadmiration. Mary had a very bright, pleasant face, dark eyes and hair,plenty of color, lady-like manners, and a stylish figure well set off byinexpensive but tasteful attire.

  The other carriage, containing the older people, had now come up andhalted beside the first.

  There were more introductions, then Mary was persuaded to take Edward'splace in the carriage with her young cousins, and drive with them to theColorado House, where she was staying, while he and his friend followedon foot.

  Here the whole party alighted, seated themselves on the porch andchatted together for a half hour.

  "How long do you stay here, Cousin Mary?" Mrs. Travilla asked.

  "Another week, Cousin Elsie; I have engaged my room for that length oftime: and I wish you would let one of your girls stay with me, or bothif they will, though I'm afraid that would crowd them. I should be soglad if you would. I want to become acquainted with them: and besides Ihave just lost my roommate, and don't like to be left alone."

  After a little consultation between the elders of the party, it wasdecided that Violet should accept the invitation, her mother promisingto send her a trunk in the morning, and Mary agreeing to return thevisit later in the season, when her cousin's cottage would have partedwith some of its present occupants.

  Edward, too, would remain and room with Charlie Perrine, on the samefloor with the girls, so that Violet would feel that she had aprotector.

  "I hope it will be a pleasant change for you, dear child," the motherwhispered in parting from Violet, "and if you grow tired of it, you knowyou can come home at any time. And Edward," she added, turning to him,"I trust your sister to your care, particularly in bathing: don't lether go in without you, and don't either of you venture far out or intoany dangerous spot."

  "We will be very careful, mamma," they both replied, "so do not feel inthe least uneasy."

  "I shall owe you a grudge for this." Donald was saying in a rueful asideto Mary.

  "Why, you needn't," she returned; "you can come too, if you wish, unlessyou object to my society."

  "That wouldn't mend matters," he answered, with a glance at the youngerElsie.

  "Nonsense! I've found out already that she's engaged. Didn't you knowit?"

  "Not I. Well, it takes a woman to find out the secrets of her sex!"

  "Then you own that a woman can keep a secret?" was her laughingrejoinder. "But do tell me," in a still lower tone, "has cousin lost herhusband lately?"

  "Within a year, and they were devotedly attached."

  "Oh poor thing! But isn't she sweet?"

  "Yes, indeed! it didn't take even me long to find that out."

  The carriages rolled away amid much waving of handkerchiefs by thetravellers and the little party left behind; then Mary carried Violetoff to her room for a long talk before it should be time to dress fortea, while the lads strolled away together along the beach, theirtongues quite as busy as the other two: for there were various collegematters to discuss, beside plans for fishing, boating, riding, anddriving.

  And Edward must sound his mother's praises and learn whether Charlie didnot think her the very loveliest woman he ever saw.

  "Yes," Charlie said with a sigh, "you are a lucky fellow, Ned. I hardlyremember my mother--was only five years old when she died."

  "Then I pity you with all my heart!" Edward exclaimed; "for there'snothing like a mother to love you and stand by you through thick andthin."

  He turned his head away to hide the tears that sprang unbidden to hiseyes, for along with his pity for his friend came a sudden recollectionof that dreadful event in his childhood when by an act of disobediencehe had come very near killing his dearly loved father. Ah, he shouldnever forget his agony of terror and remorse, his fear that his mothercould never love him again, or the tenderness with which she hadembraced him, assuring him of her forgiveness and continued affection.

  Meantime Donald was speaking in glowing terms of Cousin Mary. "One ofthe best girls in the world," he pronounced her--"so kind-hearted, sohelpful and industrious. Uncle's circumstances are moderate," he said;"Aunt's health has been delicate for years, and Mary, as the eldest ofeight or nine children, has had her hands full. I am very glad she istaking a rest now, for she needs it. A maiden sister of her mother's isfilling her place for a few weeks, she told me: else she could not havebeen spared from home."

  "You make me glad that I left Violet with her," Mrs. Travilla said, witha look of pleased content.

  Edward and his chum returned from their walk, made themselves neat, andwere waiting on the piazza before the open door, as Mary and Violet camedown at the call to tea.

  The dining-room was furnished with small tables each accommodating eightpersons. Our four young friends found seats together. The other fourplaces at their table were occupied by two couples--a tall, gaunt,sour-visaged elderly man in green spectacles, and his meek little wife,and a small, thin, invalid old gentleman, who wore a look of patientresignation, and his wife, taller than himself by half a head.

  A fine head of beautiful grey hair was the only attractive thing abouther, her features were coarse and her countenance was fretful. Sheoccupied herself in filling and emptying her plate with astonishingrapidity, and paid little or no attention to her husband, who was socrippled by rheumatism as to be almost helpless, having entirely lostthe use of one hand, and so nearly that of his lower limbs that he couldnot walk without assistance.

  He had a nurse, a young German, who was with him constantly day andnight, helped him about and waited upon him, but in a very awkwardfashion. The man's clumsiness was, however, borne with patience by thesufferer, and did not seem to trouble the wife.

  She eyed Violet curiously between her immense mouthfuls, and whisperedto her husband, loud enough for the child to hear, "Isn't that a prettygirl, William? such a handsome complexion! I reckon she paints."

  The sudden crimsoning of Vi's cheek contradicted that suspicioninstantly, and the woman corrected herself. "No, she don't, I see. Iwonder who she is?"

  "Hush, hush, Maria!" whispered her husband, "don't you see she hearsyou?" and he gave the young girl such a fatherly look, gentle andtender, that quick tears sprang to her eyes: it was so strong a reminderof one whose look of parental love she should never meet again on earth.

  People at other tables were noticing her too, remarking upon her beautyand grace, and asking each other who she was.

  "We'll soon find out, mamma; don't you see she is with Miss Keith? andshe will be sure to introduce her to us," said a nice looking girl aboutVi's age, addressing a sweet faced lady by whose side she sat.

  They all met in the parlor shortly afterward, and Vi, Mrs. Perkins, herdaughter Susie, and her son Fred, a lad of nineteen or twenty, wereformally presented to each other.

  "I don't want to get into a crowd; I don't care to make acquaintances,"Vi had said, half tearfully.

  Mary understood and respected the feeling, but answered, "Yes, de
arcousin, I know: but do let me introduce Mrs. Perkins and her children.She is so sweet and lovely, a real Christian lady; and her son anddaughter are very nice. We have been together a great deal, and I feelas if they were old friends."

  Vi did not wonder at it after talking a little with Mrs. Perkins, whohad made room for her on the sofa by her side; her thought was, "She isa little like mamma; not quite so sweet nor half so beautiful; thoughshe is very pretty."

  Several other ladies had come in by this time, the invalid gentleman'swife among the rest. "Mrs. Moses," Vi heard some one call her.

  "How do you do, Miss?" she said, drawing forward an arm chair andseating herself directly in front of Violet. "You're a new-comer,ain't you?"

  "I came this afternoon," Vi answered, and turned to Mrs. Perkins with aremark about the changing beauty of the sea and clouds; for they werenear an open window that gave them a view of old ocean.

  "Where are you from?" asked Mrs. Moses.

  "The South, Madame."

  "Ah! I should hardly have suspected it: you've such a lovely complexion,and how beautiful your hair is! like spun gold."

  The German servant-man appeared in the doorway.

  "Mrs. Moshes, Herr wants to see you."

  "Yes, I hear." Turning to Vi again, "Well, you must have had a long,tiresome journey; and I suppose you didn't come all alone?"

  Vi let the inquiry pass unnoticed, but the woman went on, "I've neverbeen South, but I'd like to go; perhaps I shall next winter. It mighthelp William's rheumatism."

  "Your husband wants you, Mrs. Moses," remarked Mary Keith.

  "Oh yes; he's always wanting me. I'll go presently."

  "Cousin," said Mary, "shall we take a stroll on the beach?"

  Violet caught at the suggestion with alacrity, and they went at once,the rest of their party, and Mrs. Perkins and hers, accompanying them.

  "That poor man!" sighed Mary. "I thought if we all left her, perhaps shewould go to him."

  "Isn't it strange?" said Susie, "he seems to love her dearly, and she tocare nothing about him. And he is so nice and good and patient, and sheso disagreeable."

  "A very poor sort of wife, I think," pursued Mary. "She will not evensleep on the same floor with him, for fear of being disturbed when painkeeps him awake. Day and night he is left to the care of that awkward,blundering German. But there! I ought to be ashamed of myself fortalking about an absent neighbor."

  "I don't think you are doing any harm, Cousin Mary," said Charlie, "forwe can all see how utterly selfish the woman is."

  "What! are you two cousins?" asked Edward in surprise.

  "First cousins, sir," returned Charlie, laughing, "sisters' children.Can't you and I claim kin, seeing she's cousin to both of us?"

  A sudden dash of rain prevented Edward's reply, and sent them allscurrying into the house.