CHAPTER XI.
The bloom of opening flowers' unsullied beauty-- Softness and sweetest innocence she wears, And looks like nature in the world's first spring.
--ROWE'S "TAMERLANE."
"What a very peculiar hand, papa; so stiff and cramped andold-fashioned," Elsie remarked, as her father laid down a letter hehad just been reading.
"Yes. Did you ever hear me speak of Aunt Wealthy Stanhope?"
His glance seemed to direct the question to Rose, who answered, with alook of surprise and curiosity, "No, sir. Who is she?"
"A half-sister of my own mother. She was the daughter of my maternalgrandfather by his first wife, my mother was the child of the second,and there were some five or ten years between them. Aunt Wealthy nevermarried, would never live with any of her relatives, but has alwayskept up a cosey little establishment of her own."
"Do you know her, papa?" asked Elsie, who was listening with eagerinterest.
"I can hardly say that I do. I saw her once, nearly eighteenyears ago, about the time you were born--but I was not capable ofappreciating her then; indeed, was so unhappy and irritable as to behardly in a condition to either make or receive favorable impressions.I now believe her to be a truly good and noble little woman, thoughdecidedly an oddity in some respects. Then I called her a fidgety,fussy old maid."
"And your letter is from her?" Rose said inquiringly.
"Yes; she wants me to pay her a visit, taking Elsie with me, andleaving her there for the summer."
"There, papa! where?"
"Lansdale, Ohio. Should you like to go?"
"Yes, I think I should like to go, papa, if you take me; but whether Ishould like to stay all summer I could hardly tell till I get there."
"You may read the letter," he said, handing it to her.
"It sounds as though it might be very pleasant, papa," she said, asshe laid it down after an attentive perusal.
It spoke of Lansdale as a pretty, healthful village, surrounded bybeautiful scenery, and boasting of some excellent society: of twolively young girls, living in the next house to her own, who would becharming companions for Elsie, etc.
"Your remark that your aunt was an oddity in some respects has excitedmy curiosity," said Rose.
"Ah! and I am to understand that you would like me to gratify it, eh?"returned her husband, smiling. "Her dress and the arrangement of herhair are in a style peculiarly her own (unless she has become morefashionable since I saw her, which is not likely); and she has an oddway of transposing her sentences and the names of those she addressesor introduces, or calling them by some other name suggested by someassociation with the real one. Miss Bell, for instance, she wouldprobably call Miss Ring; Mr. Foot, Mr. Shoe, and so on."
"Does she do so intentionally, papa?" Elsie asked.
"No, not at all; her mistakes are quite innocently made, and aretherefore very amusing."
Mrs. Horace Dinsmore's parents had been urging her to visit them, andafter some further consideration it was decided that the whole familyshould go North for the summer, Mr. Dinsmore see his wife and littleson safe at her father's, then take Elsie on to visit his aunt; thelength of the visit to be determined after their arrival.
* * * * *
It was a lovely morning early in May; the air was vocal with the songsof birds and redolent with the breath of flowers all bathed in dew;delicate wreaths of snowy vapor rose slowly from the rippling surfaceof the river that threaded its way through the valley, and foldedthemselves about the richly-wooded hill-sides, behind which brightstreaks of golden light were shooting upward, fair heralds of thecoming of the king of day. On the outskirts of the pretty village ofLansdale, and in the midst of a well-kept garden and lawn, stood atasteful dwelling, of Gothic architecture. Roses, honeysuckle, andVirginia creeper clambered over its walls, twined themselves about thepillars of its porticos and porches, or hung in graceful festoons fromits many gables; the garden was gay with sweet spring flowers; thetrees, the grass on the lawn, and the hedge that separated it from theroad, all were liveried in that vivid green so refreshing to the eye.
"Phillis! Simon!" called a sweet-toned voice from the foot of the backstaircase; "are you up? It's high time; nearly five o'clock now, andthe train's due at six."
"Coming, ma'am. I'll have time to do up all my chores and git tothe depot 'fore de train; you neber fear," replied a colored lad offifteen or sixteen, hurrying down as he spoke.
A matronly woman, belonging to the same race, followed close in hisrear.
"You're smart dis mornin', missis," she said, speaking from the middleof the stairway. "I didn't 'spect you'd git ahead o' me, and de sunhardly showin' his face 'bove de hill-tops yit."
"I woke early, Phillis, as I always do when something's going tohappen that I expect. Simon make haste to feed and water your horsesand be sure you have old Joan in the carriage and at the gate by aquarter before six."
"Am I to drive her to the depot, ma'am?"
"No, Miss Lottie Prince will do that, and you are to take theone-horse wagon for the trunks. Did you go to Mr. Laugh's and engageit, as I told you yesterday?"
"I went to Mr. Grinn's and disengaged de one-horse wagon, ma'am;yes'm."
"Very well. Now come into the sitting room and I'll show you thelikenesses of the lady and gentleman, and the old colored womanthey're going to bring with them," replied the mistress, leadingthe way into an apartment that, spite of its plain, old-fashionedfurniture, wore a very attractive appearance, it was so exquisitelyneat; and the windows, reaching to the floor, opened upon one sideinto conservatory and garden, on the other upon a porch that ran thewhole length of the front of the house. Taking a photograph album froma side-table, she showed the three pictures to Simon, who pronouncedthe gentleman very handsome, the lady the prettiest he ever saw, andwas sure he should recognise both them and their servant.
"Now, Phillis, we'll have to bestir ourselves," said Miss Stanhope,returning to the kitchen. "Do you think you can get breakfast in lessthan an hour? such a breakfast as we should have this morning--one fitfor a king."
"Yes, Miss Wealthy; but you don't want it that soon, do you? Folks isapt to like to wash and dress 'fore breakfast."
"Ah, yes! sure enough. Well, we'll give them half an hour."
A few moments later, as Miss Stanhope was busy with broom and dusterin the front part of the house, a young girl opened the gate, trippedgayly up the gravel walk that led from it across the lawn, and steppedupon the porch. She was a brunette with a very rich color in her darkcheek, raven hair, and sparkling, roguish black eyes. She wore a suitof plain brown linen, with snowy cuffs and collar, and a little strawhat. "Good-morning, Aunt Wealthy!" she cried, in a lively tone, "Yousee I'm in good time."
"Yes, Lottie, and looking as neat as a pin, too. It's very kind inyou, because of course I want to be here to receive them as they come,to offer to introduce yourself and drive down to the depot for them."
"Of course I'm wonderfully clever, considering that I don't at allenjoy a drive in this sweet morning air, and aint in a bit of a hurryto see your beautiful young heiress and her papa. Net wonders at myaudacity in venturing to face them alone; but I tell her I'm toostaunch a republican to quail before any amount of wealth orconsequence, and if Mr. and Miss Dinsmore see fit to turn up theiraristocratic noses at me, why--I'll just return the compliment."
"I hope they're not of that sort, Lottie; but if they are, you willserve them right."
"She does not look like it," observed the young girl, taking the albumfrom the table and gazing earnestly upon Elsie's lovely countenance."What a sweet, gentle, lovable face it is! I'm sure I shall dote onher; and if I can only persuade her to return my penchant, won't wehave grand good times while she's here? But there's Simon with oldJoan and the carriage. He'll hunt them up for me at the depot; won'the, Aunt Wealthy?"
"Yes, I told him to."
* * * * *
The shrill whistle of the locomotive e
choed and re-echoed among thehills.
"Lansdale!" shouted the conductor, throwing open the car door.
"So we are at our destination at last, and I am very glad for yoursake, daughter, for you are looking weary," said Mr. Dinsmore, drawingElsie's shawl more closely about her shoulders.
"Oh, I'm not so very tired, papa," she answered, with a loving lookand smile, "not more so than you are, I presume. Oh, see! papa, what apretty girl in that carriage there!"
"Yes, yes! Come to meet some friend, doubtless. Come, the train hasstopped; keep close to me," he said. "Aunt Chloe, see that you haveall the parcels."
"Dis de gentleman and lady from de South, what Miss Stanhope's'spectin'?" asked a colored lad, stepping up to our little party asthey alighted.
"Yes."
"Dis way den, sah, if you please, sah. Here's de carriage. De ladywill drive you up to de house, and I'll take your luggage in de littlewagon."
"Very well; here are the checks. You will bring it up at once?"
"Yes, sah, have it dar soon as yourself, sah. Dis cullad person betterride wid me and de trunks."
They were nearing the carriage and the pretty girl Elsie had noticedfrom the car window. "Good-morning! Mr. and Miss Dinsmore, I presume?"she said with a bow and smile. "Will you get in? Let me give you ahand, Miss Dinsmore. I am Lottie King, a distant relative and nearneighbor of your aunt, Miss Stanhope."
"And have kindly driven down for us. We are much obliged, Miss King,"Mr. Dinsmore answered, as he followed his daughter into the vehicle."Shall I not relieve you of the reins?"
"Oh, no, thank you; I'm used to driving, and fond of it. And, besides,you don't know the way."
"True. How is my aunt?"
"Quite well. She has been looking forward with great delight to thisvisit, as have my sister Nettie and I also," Lottie answered, with abackward glance of admiring curiosity at Elsie. "I hope you will bepleased with Lansdale, Miss Dinsmore; sufficiently so to decide tostay all summer."
"Thank you; I think it is looking lovely this morning. Does my auntlive far from the depot?"
"Not very; about a quarter of a mile."
"Oh, what a pretty place, and what a quaint-looking little old lady onits porch!" Elsie presently cried out. "See, papa!"
"Yes, that's Aunt Wealthy, and doesn't she make a picture standingthere under the vines in her odd dress?" said Miss King, driving up tothe gate. "She's the very oddest, and the very dearest and sweetestlittle old lady in the world."
Elsie listened and looked again; this time with eager interest andcuriosity.
Certainly, Aunt Wealthy was no slave to fashion. The tyrannical dameat that time prescribed gaiter boots, a plain pointed waist andstraight skirt, worn very long and full. Miss Stanhope wore a fullwaist made with a yoke and belt, a gored skirt, extremely scant, andso short as to afford a very distinct view of a well-turned ankle andsmall, shapely foot encased in snowy stocking and low-heeled black kidslipper. The material of her dress was chintz--white ground with atiny brown figure--finished at the neck with a wide white ruffle; shehad black silk mitts on her hands, and her hair, which was very graywas worn in a little knot almost on the top of her head, and onethick, short curl, held in place by a puff-comb, on each side of herface.
At sight of the carriage and its occupants, she came hurrying downthe gravel walk, meeting them as they entered the gate. She took Mr.Dinsmore's hand, saying, "I am glad to see you, nephew Horace," andheld up her face for a kiss. Then turning to Elsie, gave her a verywarm embrace. "So, dear, you've come to see your old auntie? That'sright. Come into the house."
Elsie was charmed with her and with all she saw; all without was sofresh and bright, everything within so exquisitely neat and clean. Thefurniture of the whole house was very plain and old-fashioned, butMiss Stanhope never thought of apologizing for what to her wore thedouble charm of ownership, and of association with the happy days ofchildhood and youth, and loved ones gone. Nor did her guests deemanything of the kind called for in the very least; house and mistressseemed well suited the one to the other: and Elsie thought it notunpleasant to exchange, for a time, the luxurious furnishing of herhome apartments for the simple adornments of the one assigned herhere. The snowy drapery of its bed and toilet-table, its wide-opencasements giving glimpses of garden, lawn, and shrubbery, and thebeautiful hills beyond, looked very inviting. There were vases offresh flowers too, on mantel and bureau, and green vines peeping inat the windows. It seemed a haven of rest after the long, fatiguingjourney.
"The child is sweet and fair to look upon, Horace, but I see nothingof you or my sister in her face," observed Miss Stanhope, as hernephew entered the breakfast-room, preceding his daughter by a momentor two. "Whom does she resemble?"
"Elsie is almost the exact counterpart of her own mother, AuntWealthy, and looks like no one else," he answered, with a glance ofproud fatherly affection at the young creature as she entered and tookher place at the table.
"Now my daughter," he said, at the conclusion of the meal, "you mustgo and lie down until near dinner-time, if possible."
"Yes, that is excellent advice," said Miss Stanhope. "I see, and I'mglad, she's worth taking care of, as you are sensible, Horace. Youshall be called in season, dear. So take a good nap."
Elsie obeyed, retired to her room, slept several hours, and wokefeeling greatly refreshed. Chloe was in waiting to dress her fordinner.
"Had you a nap too, my poor old mammy?" asked her young mistress.
"Yes, darlin'. I've been lying on that coach, and feel good as evernow. Hark! what dat?"
"It sounds like a dog in distress," said Elsie, as they both ran tothe window and looked out.
A fat poodle had nearly forced his plump body between the palings ofthe front gate in the effort to get into the street, and stickingfast, was yelping in distress. As they looked Miss Stanhope ranquickly down the path, seized him by the tail, and jerked him back, heuttering a louder yelp than before.
"There, Albert," she said, stroking and patting him, "I don't like tohurt you, but how was I to get you out, or in? You must be taught thatyou're to stay at home, sir. Thomas! Thomas! come home, Thomas!" shecalled; and a large cat came running from the opposite side of thestreet.
"So those are Aunt Wealthy's pets. What an odd name for a cat," saidElsie, laughing.
"Yes, Miss Elsie, dey's pets, sure nuff: Phillis says Miss Wealthy'smighty good t'em."
"There, she is coming in with them, and, mammy, we must make haste.I'm afraid it's near dinner-time," said Elsie, turning away from thewindow.
Her toilet was just completed when there was a slight tap on the door,and her father's voice asked if she was ready to go down.
"Yes, papa," she answered, hurrying to him as Chloe opened the door.
"Ah, you are looking something like yourself again," he said, with apleasant smile, as he drew her hand within his arm, and led her downthe stairs. "You have had a good sleep?"
"A delicious rest. I must have slept at least four hours. And you,papa?"
"I took a nap of about the same length, and feel ready for almostanything in the shape of dinner, etc. And there is the bell."
Miss Stanhope cast many an admiring glance at nephew and niece duringthe progress of the meal.
"I'm thinking, Horace," she said at length, "that it's a great shameI've been left so many years a stranger to you both."
"I'm afraid it is, Aunt Wealthy; but the great distance that liesbetween our homes must be taken as some excuse. We would have beenglad to see you at the Oaks, but you never came to visit us."
"Ah, it was much easier for you to come here," she replied, shakingher head. "I've been an old woman these many years. Come," she added,rising from the table, "come into the parlor, children, and let meshow you the olden relics of time I have there--things that I valuevery highly, because they've been in the family for generations."
They followed her--Elsie unable to forbear a smile at hearing herfather and herself coupled together as "children"--and looked withkeen
interest upon some half dozen old family portraits, an ancientcabinet of curiosities, a few musty, time-worn volumes, a carpet thathad been very expensive in its day, but was now somewhat faded andworn, and tables, sofas, and chairs of solid mahogany; each of thelast-named covered with a heavily-embroidered silken cushion.
"That sampler," said Aunt Wealthy, pointing to a large one with awonderful landscape worked upon it, that, framed and glazed,hung between two of the windows, "is a specimen of my paternalgrandmother's handiwork; these chair-cushions, too, she embroideredand filled with her own feathers, so that I value them more than theirweight in gold."
"My great-grandmother kept a few geese, I presume," Mr. Dinsmoreremarked aside to Elsie with a quiet smile.
Having finished their inspection of the parlor and its curiosities,they seated themselves upon the front porch, where trees and vinesgave a pleasant shade. Miss Stanhope had her knitting, Mr. Dinsmorethe morning paper, while Elsie sat with her pretty white hands lyingidly in her lap, doing nothing but enjoy the beautiful prospect and aquiet chat with the sweet-voiced old lady.
The talk between them was quite brisk for a time, but gradually itslackened, till at length they had been silent for several minutes,and Elsie, glancing at her aunt, saw her nodding over her work.
"Ah, you must excuse me, dear," the old lady said apologetically,waking with a start; "I'm not very well, and, deary, I woke unusuallyearly this morning, and have been stirring about ever since."
"Can't you afford yourself a little nap, auntie?" Elsie asked inreturn. "You mustn't make company of me; and, besides, I have a bookthat I can amuse myself with."
"You would be quite alone, child, for I see your father has gone in."
"I shall not mind that at all, auntie. Do go and lie down for at leasta little while."
"Well, then, dear, I will just lie down on the sofa in the sittingroom, and you must call me if any one comes."
"Aunt Wealthy couldn't have meant for a child like that, unless shecomes on some important errand," thought Elsie, as, a few momentslater, a little girl came slowly across the lawn and stepped upon theporch.
The child looked clean and decent, in a neat calico dress and ginghamsun-bonnet. At sight of Elsie she stood still, and, gazing withopen-mouthed curiosity, asked, "Be you the rich young lady that wascoming to see Miss Wealthy from 'way down south?"
"I have come from the South to see Miss Stanhope. What do you wish?"
"Nothin', I just come over 'cause I wanted to."
"Will you take a seat?"
"Yes," taking possession of the low rocking chair Miss Stanhope hadvacated.
"What's your name?" inquired Elsie.
"Lenwilla Ellawea Schilling," returned the child, straighteningherself up with an air of importance; "mother made it herself."
"I should think so," replied Elsie, with a sparkle of fun in her eye."And your mother is Mrs. Schilling, is she?"
"Yes, and pap, he's dead, and my brother's named Corbinus."
"What do they call you for short?"
"Willy, and him Binus."
"Where do you live?"
"Over yonder," nodding her head towards the opposite side of thestreet. "Mother's comin' over to see you some time. I guess I'll begoing now." And away she went.
"What did that child want?" asked Miss Stanhope, coming out just intime to see the little maiden pass through the gate.
"Nothing but to look at and question me, I believe." Elsie answered,with an amused smile.
"Ah! she generally comes to borrow some little thing or other. They'rethe sort of folks that always have something they're out of. Mrs.Sixpence is a very odd sixpence indeed."
"I think the little girl said her last name was Schilling."
"Ah, yes, so it is: but I'm always forgetting their exact commercialvalue," and Aunt Wealthy laughed softly. "In fact, I've a very goodforgetting of my own, and am more apt to get names wrong than right."
"Mrs. Schilling must have an odd taste for names," said Elsie.
"Yes, she's a manufacturer of them; and very proud of her success inthat line."
Miss Stanhope was a great lover of flowers, very proud of hers,cultivated principally by her own hands. After tea she invited hernephew and niece to a stroll through her garden, while she exhibitedher pets with a very excusable pride in their variety, beauty, andfragrance.
As they passed into the house again, Phillis was feeding the chickensin the back yard.
"You have quite a flock of poultry, aunt," remarked Mr. Dinsmore.
"Yes, I like to see them running about, and the eggs you lay yourselfare so much better than any you can buy, and the chickens, too, havequite another taste. Phillis, what's the matter with that speckledhen?"
"Dunno, mistis; she's been crippled dat way all dis week."
"Well, well, I dare say it's the boys; one of them must have thrown astone and hit her between her hind legs; they're great plagues. Poorthing! There, Albert, don't you dare to meddle with the fowls! Comeaway, Thomas. That cat and dog are nearly as bad and troublesome tothe boys as the poultry."
Puss and the poodle followed their mistress into the house, whereAlbert lay down at her feet, while Thomas sprang into her lap, wherehe stood purring and rubbing his head against her arm.
"You seem to have a good many pets, auntie," Elsie remarked.
"Yes, I am fond of them. A childless old woman must have something tolove. I've another that I'm fonder of than any of these though--mygrand-nephew, Harry Duncan. He's away at school now; but I hope toshow him to you one of these days."
"I should like to see him. Is he a relative of ours?" Elsie asked,turning to her father.
"No, he belongs to the other side of the house."
"How soft and fine this cat's fur is, aunt; he's quite handsome,"remarked Elsie, venturing to stroke Thomas very gently.
"Yes, I raised him, and his mother before him. My sister Beulah wasfirst husband's child of Harry's grandmother twice married, and mymother. Yes, I think a great deal of him, but was near losing him lastwinter. A fellow in our town--he's two years old now--wanted a buffalorobe for his sleigh, and undertook to make it out of cat-skins. Headvertised that he'd give ten cents for every cat-skin the boys wouldbring him. You know the old saying that you can't have more of a catthan its skin, and hardly anybody's was safe after that; they wentabout catching all they could lay hands on, even borrowing people'spets and killing them."
Elsie turned to her father with a very perplexed look, puzzled tounderstand who it was that had married twice, and whether her aunt hadstated Harry's age or that of the cat.
But at that instant steps and voices were heard upon the porch, andthe door-bell rang.
"It's Lottie and her father," said Miss Stanhope, pushing Thomas fromher lap. "Come in, friends, and don't stand for ceremony." For bothdoors stood wide open.
"Good-evening," said the young lady, coming forward, leaning uponthe arm of a middle-aged gentleman. "Mr. Dinsmore, I have brought myfather, Dr. King, to see you."
The gentlemen shook hands, the doctor observing, "I am happy to makeyour acquaintance, Mr. Dinsmore. I brought my daughter along tointroduce me, lest our good Aunt Wealthy here, in her want ofappreciation of nobility and birth, should, as she sometimes does,give me a rank lower than my true one, making me to appear only aPrince, while I am really a King."
A general laugh followed this sally, Miss Stanhope insisting that thatwas a mistake she did not often make now. Then Elsie was introduced,and, all being seated again, Dr. King turned to his hostess with thelaughing remark, "Well, Aunt Wealthy, by way of amends, I'll own upthat my wife says that you're the better doctor of the two. That branhas done her a world of good."
"Bran?" said Mr. Dinsmore inquiringly.
"Yes, sir; Mrs. King was suffering from indigestion; Miss Stanhopeadvised her to try eating a tablespoonful or so of dry bran after hermeals, and it has had an excellent effect."
"My father learnt it from an old sea-captain," said Miss Stanhope;"and it has help
ed a great many I've recommended it to. Some preferto mix it with a little cream, or take a little water with it but thebest plan's to take it dry if you can."
Elsie's Girlhood Page 11