CHAPTER XXIII.
"The shaken tree grows firmer at the roots; So love grows firmer for some blasts of doubt."
It was two years or more since the Oaks had suffered the temporaryloss of its master and mistress, yet they had not returned; they stilllingered on foreign shores, and Mrs. Murray, who had been left atthe head of household affairs, looked in vain for news of theirhome-coming.
She now and then received a short business letter from Mr. Dinsmoreor of directions from Rose; or a longer one from the latter or Elsie,giving entertaining bits of travel, etc.; and occasionally Adelaidewould ride over from Roselands and delight the old housekeeper'sheart by reading aloud a lively gossipy epistle one or the other hadaddressed to her.
How charmed and interested were both reader and listener; especiallywhen they came upon one of Rose's graphic accounts of theirpresentation at court--in London, Paris, Vienna, or St.Petersburg--wherein she gave a minute description of Elsie's dressand appearance, and dwelt with motherly pride and delight upon theadmiration everywhere accorded to the beauty and sweetness of thelovely American heiress.
It was a great gratification to Adelaide's pride in her niece to learnthat more than one coronet had been laid at her feet; yet she was notsorry to hear that they had been rejected with the gentle firmnesswhich she knew Elsie was capable of exercising.
"But what more could the bairn or her father desire? would he keep thesweet lassie single a' her days, Miss Dinsmore?" asked Mrs. Murraywhen Adelaide told her this.
"No," was the smiling rejoinder; "I know he would be very loath toresign her; but this is Elsie's own doing. She says the man for whomshe would be willing to give up her native land must be very dearindeed, that her hand shall never be given without her heart, and thatit still belongs more to her father than to any one else."
"Ah, that is well, Miss Adelaide. I hae been sorely troubled aboot mysweet bairn. I never breathed the thoct to ither mortal ear, but whenthey cam hame frae that summer in the North, she was na the blytheyoung thing she had been; and there was that in the wistfu' andhungered look o' her sweet een--when she turned them whiles upon herfather--that made me think some ane he didna approve had won theinnocent young heart."
"Ah, well, Mrs. Murray, whatever may have been amiss then, is all overnow. My sister writes me that Elsie seems very happy, and as devotedlyattached to her father as ever, insisting that no one ever can be sodear to her as he."
Mrs. Dinsmore's last letter was dated Naples, and there they stilllingered.
One bright spring day they were out sight-seeing, and had wanderedinto a picture-gallery which they had visited once or twice before.Rose had her husband's arm. Elsie held her little brother's hand inhers.
"Sister," said the child, "look at those ladies and gentlemen. Theyare English, aren't they?"
"Yes; I think so," Elsie answered, following the direction of hisglance; "a party of English tourists. No, one of the gentlemen lookslike an American."
"That one nearest this way? I can only see his side face, but I thinkhe is the handsomest. Don't you?"
"Yes; and he has a fine form too, an easy, graceful carriage, andpolished manners," she added, as at that moment he stooped to pickup a handkerchief, dropped by one of the ladies of his party, andpresented it to its owner.
Elsie was partial to her own countrymen, and unaccountably to herself,felt an unusual interest in this one. She watched him furtively,wondering who he was, and thinking that in appearance and manners hecompared very favorably with the counts, lords, and dukes who in thepast two years had so frequently hovered about her, and hung upon hersmiles.
But her father called her attention to something in the painting heand Rose were examining, and when she turned to look again for thestranger and his companions, she perceived that they were gone.
"Papa," she asked, "did you notice that party of tourists?"
"Not particularly. What about them?"
"I am quite certain one of the gentlemen was an American; and I halffancied there was something familiar in his air and manner."
"Ah! I wish you had spoken of it while he was here, that I might havemade sure whether he were an old acquaintance. But come," he added,taking out his watch, "it is time for us to return home."
The Dinsmores were occupying an old palace, the property of a noblefamily whose decayed fortunes compelled the renting of theirancestral home. In the afternoon of the day of their visit to thepicture-gallery Mr. Dinsmore and his daughter were seated in itsspacious saloon, she beside a window overlooking the street, he ata little distance from her, and near to a table covered with books,magazines, and newspapers. That day had brought him a heavy mail fromAmerica, and he was examining the New York and Philadelphia dailieswith keen interest.
Elsie was evidently paying no heed to what might be passing in thestreet. A bit of fancy work gave employment to her fingers, while herthoughts were busy with the contents of a letter received from herAunt Adelaide that morning.
It brought ill news. Arthur had been seriously injured by a railroadaccident and, it was feared, was crippled for life. But that was notall. Dick Percival--whom Enna had married nearly two years before--hadnow become utterly bankrupt, having wasted his patrimony in riotingand drunkenness, losing large sums at the gaming-table; and his youngwife, left homeless and destitute, had been compelled to return to herfather's house with her infant son.
Mr. Dinsmore uttered a slight exclamation.
"What is it, papa?" asked Elsie, lifting her eyes to meet his fixedupon her with an expression of mingled gratitude and tenderness.
"Come here," he said, and as she obeyed he drew her to his knee,passing his arm about her waist, and, holding the paper before her,pointed to a short paragraph which had just caught his eye.
She read it at a glance; her face flushed, then paled; she put her armabout his neck, and laid her cheek to his, while tears trembled in thesweet eyes, as soft and beautiful as ever.
For a moment neither spoke; then she murmured in low, quivering tonesthe same words that had fallen from her lips two years ago,--"ThankGod for a father's protecting love and care!"
"Thank Him that I have my daughter safe in my arms," he said,tightening his clasp about her slender waist. "Ah, my own preciouschild, how could I ever have borne to see you sacrificed to thatwretch!"
They had just learned that Tom Jackson had been tried for manslaughterand for forgery, found guilty on both charges, and sentenced to theState's Prison for a long term of years.
They were quiet again for a little; then Elsie said, "Papa, I want toask you something."
"Well, daughter, say on."
"I have been thinking how sad it must be for poor Enna to find herselfso destitute, and that I should like to settle something upon her--sayten or twenty thousand dollars, if I may--"
"My dear child," he said with a smile, "I have no control over younow as regards the disposal of your property. Do you forget that youpassed your majority three weeks ago?"
"No, papa, I have not forgotten; but I don't mean ever to do anythingof importance without your approval. So please make up your mind thatI'm always to be your own little girl; never more than eighteen ortwenty to you. Now won't you answer my question about Enna?"
"I think it would be quite as well, or better, to defer any suchaction for the present. It won't hurt Enna to be made to feel poor anddependent for a time; she needs the lesson; and her parents will notallow her to suffer privation of any sort. Ah, here comes mamma inwalking attire. We are going out for perhaps an hour; leaving house,servants, and the little ones in your charge. Horace, be careful to dojust as your sister tells you."
"Yes, papa, I will," answered the child, who had come in with hismother, and had a book in his hand. "Will you help me with my lesson,Elsie, and hear me say it when it is learned?"
"Yes, that I will. Here's a stool for you close by my side," she said,going back to her seat by the window.
"Good-bye, dears, we won't be gone long." said Rose, taking herhusb
and's arm.
Elsie and Horace watched them till they had passed out of sight fardown the street, then returned to their employments; her thoughtsnow going back, not to Roselands, but to Lansdale, Ashlands, andPhiladelphia; memory and imagination bringing vividly before her eachscene of her past life in which Egerton had borne a part. Did any ofthe old love come back? No, for he was not the man who had won heresteem and affection; and even while sending up a silent petition forhis final conversion, she shuddered at the thought of her past danger,and was filled with gratitude to God and her father at the remembranceof her narrow escape.
Her brother's voice recalled her from her musings. "Look, sister," heexclaimed, glancing from the window, "there is the very same gentlemanwe saw this morning! and see, he's crossing the street! I do believehe's coming here."
Elsie looked, recognized the stranger, and perceived, with a slightemotion of surprise and pleasure, that he was approaching their door.That he was her countryman, and perhaps direct from her dear nativeland, was sufficient to make him a welcome visitor.
The next moment John threw open the door of the saloon and announced,"A gentleman from America!"
"One who brings no letter of introduction; yet hopes for an audienceof you, fair lady," he said, coming forward with smiling countenanceand outstretched hand.
"Mr. Travilla! can it be possible!" she cried, starting up in joyfulastonishment, and hastening to bid him welcome.
"You are not sorry to see me then, my little friend?" he said, takingher offered hand and pressing it in both of his.
"Sorry, my dear sir! what a question! Were you not always a mostwelcome guest in my father's house? and if welcome at home, much moreso here in a foreign land."
Mr. Travilla looked into the sweet face, more beautiful than ever, andlonged to treat her with the affectionate freedom of former days, yetrefrained; the gentle dignity of her manner seeming to forbid it,pleased and cordial as was her greeting.
He turned to Horace and shook hands with him, remarking that he hadgrown very much.
"I am very glad to see you, sir," said the boy.
"You have not forgotten me then?"
"Ah, no, indeed; and I can't think how it was that sister and I didnot know you yesterday in the picture-gallery; though we knew you werean American!"
"Ah, were you there? How blind I must have been!" and he turned toElsie again.
"We were there for but a few minutes before your party left; and quiteat the other end of that long gallery," she said. "But I am surprisedthat I failed to recognize you, even at that distance. But I had nothought of your being in the country. How delighted papa will beto see you. He has often spoken of the old times when you and hetravelled over Europe together, and wished that you were with him onthis trip. He and mamma have gone out, but will be in presently."
Elsie had many inquiries to make in regard to the health and welfareof relatives and friends, and the old family servants at the Oaks; Mr.Travilla numerous questions to ask concerning all that she had seenand done since leaving America. But in the midst of it all sheexclaimed, "Ah, you must see our little Frenchwoman! such a darling asshe is!"
"I'll ring the bell, sister," said Horace, seeing her glance towardit.
John appeared in answer, was ordered to tell the nurse to bring thebaby, and a neatly dressed middle-aged woman presently entered theroom, carrying a lovely infant a little more than a year old.
"See, is she not a darling?" said Elsie, taking it in her arms. "Shehas mamma's own sweet pretty blue eyes, and is named for her. OurRosebud we call her. Papa gave her the name, and he says she is asmuch like her mother as I am like mine. You don't know, Mr. Travilla,how glad I was when she came to us; it was something so new anddelightful to have a sister of my own. Ah, I love her dearly, and shereturns my affection. There, see her lay her little head down on myshoulder."
Mr. Travilla admired and caressed the little creature, coaxed her tocome to him for a moment, and the nurse carried her away.
"When do you return home, Elsie?" he asked.
"In the fall. Mr. and Mrs. Perris, mamma's grandparents, have theirgolden wedding in October. Sophy expects to be married at the sametime, and of course we wish to be present on the occasion. We haveyet to visit Turin, Venice, and Munich. After seeing these places weintend to spend the rest of the summer in Switzerland, sailing forAmerica some time in September. Ah, here are papa and mamma!" sheadded as the two entered the room together.
"Travilla! what favorable wind blew you here?" cried Mr. Dinsmore,shaking his friend's hand, in almost boyish delight.
"A westerly one, I believe," answered Travilla, laughing and shakinghands with Rose, who looked scarcely less pleased than her husband."They think at Roselands and the Oaks that your year is a very longone, or that you have lost your reckoning, and were anxious to senda messenger to assist you in recovering it; so I volunteered myservices."
"Ah, that was kind! but to be able to do so to advantage you will needto take up your abode with us for the present, and to make one of ourparty when we start again upon our travels."
"Of course you will," added Rose; "we always consider you one of thefamily; a sort of brother to us and uncle to the children."
"Thank you, you are most kind," he said, a slight flush suffusing hischeek for an instant, while his eyes involuntarily sought Elsie's facewith a wistful, longing look.
Her father turned laughingly to her. "Is this your stranger of thepicture-gallery? ah, are you not ashamed of failing to recognize soold a friend?"
"Yes, papa, but I did not catch sight of his full face, and he wasat quite a distance, and I never thinking of the possibility that hecould be anywhere out of America."
"And time makes changes in us all--is fast turning me into a quietmiddle-aged man."
"You are very kind to furnish another excuse for my stupidity," saidElsie, smiling, "but I really cannot see that you have changed in theleast since I saw you last."
"And no stranger would ever think of pronouncing you over thirty,"added Rose.
"Ah, you flatter me, fair ladies," returned Mr. Travilla, smiling andshaking his head.
"No, I can vouch for the truthfulness and honesty of both," said Mr.Dinsmore.
Mr. Travilla did not hesitate to accept his friend's invitation,knowing that it was honestly given, and feeling that he could notdecline it without doing violence to his own inclination. He made oneof their party during the rest of their stay in Europe and on thevoyage to America.
His presence was most welcome to all; he saw no reason to doubt that,and yet Elsie's manner sometimes saddened and depressed him. Not thatthere was ever in it anything approaching to coolness, but it lackedthe old delightful familiarity, instead of which there was now a quietreserve, a gentle dignity, that kept him at a distance, and whileincreasing his admiration for the fair girl, made him sigh for the oldchildish days when she was scarcely under more constraint with himthan with her father.
Our little party reached Philadelphia a fortnight before the goldenwedding. They found the handsome city residence of the Allisonsoccupied by the family, and full of the pleasant stir and bustle ofpreparation for the eventful day which was to witness the celebrationof the fiftieth anniversary of the wedding of Mr. and Mrs. Ferris, andthe marriage of their granddaughter.
Sophy, while paying a visit to Rose in her Southern home, had won theheart of Harry Carrington, and they had been engaged a year or more.Harry had once indulged in a secret penchant for Elsie; but now hewould not have exchanged his merry, blue-eyed Sophy for her, or forany other lady in the land.
The young couple were married at church, very early in the evening,Elsie acting as first bridesmaid. Returning to the house the bridalparty were ushered into the drawing-room, which they found richlyornamented with evergreens and flowers. In the centre rose a pyramidof rare and beautiful blossoms, filling the air with their deliciousperfume. Above that was a wide arch of evergreens bearing themonograms of Mr. and Mrs. Ferris, placed between the dates of theirmarriag
e and of this anniversary.
The old bride and groom sat together beneath the arch on one side ofthe pyramid, while the newly-married pair took up a similar position,upon the other.
Only the family and near connections were present for the first halfhour. The eldest son of Mr. and Mrs. Ferris made a short address,thanking his aged parents for their unselfish love and devotion totheir offspring, and exhorting the youthful bride and groom to followin their footsteps. Upon the conclusion of this little speech,gifts were presented by children and grandchildren, and letters ofcongratulation, in both poetry and prose, from absent friends wereread.
After this the doors were thrown open to the invited guests, and forthe remainder of the evening the house was thronged with the elite ofthe city, and with friends and acquaintances from other parts of thecountry.
Among the latter were Adelaide and Walter Dinsmore, and Mr. Travillaand his mother. The last named was seated in the corner of a sofa, herson standing by her side.
He heard a low-breathed sigh, noted the quivering of her lip andthe gathering tears in the gentle eyes, as she turned them upon thegray-haired bride and groom, and he knew that her thoughts were withthe early dead, the husband and father whose image he could scarcelyrecall. His heart swelled with tender pitying, protecting love, as hethought of her long, lonely widowhood, and of all that she had beenand still was to him.
But her gaze wandered to the pair standing just upon the threshold ofmarried life; and smiling up at him, "They are a handsome couple," shesaid; "how proud and happy Harry looks! Ah, Edward, when will yourturn come?"
He shook his head with a rather melancholy smile.
"It is your own fault, I am sure," she continued in a playful tone;"there are plenty of pretty girls and charming young widows who wouldlike well to be mistress of Ion, and I am growing old, and sometimesfeel that I would be glad to resign the sceptre to younger hands."
He gave her a glance of affectionate concern. "I shall look for ahousekeeper immediately. I ought to have thought of it before."
"No, no, it is a daughter I want," she returned still playfully. "Ihave often wondered how it has come to pass that my warm-hearted boyseems so perfectly invulnerable to Cupid's darts."
"All seeming, mother," he answered lightly, but with a wistfulyearning look in his eyes which were fixed upon a little group on thefarther side of the room; "to tell you a secret," and he bent down,that the low-breathed words might catch her ear alone, "I have beenhopelessly in love for many years."
She started with surprise,--for there was the ring of deep, earnestfeeling beneath the jesting tone--then following the direction ofhis glance, and perceiving that the group upon which it restedwas composed of Adelaide and Elsie Dinsmore, with some half dozengentlemen who had gathered about them, she looked greatly pleased.
"And why hopeless?" she asked.
"Ah, the evidences of indifference are so patent that I cannot hopeshe will ever learn to care for me."
"And pray what may they be?"
"Constraint and reserve, where formerly there was much warmth andcordiality of manner."
"You foolish boy! if that be all, you may take heart. I would not askfor better symptoms. And remember the old proverb--'Faint heart neverwon fair lady.' You do not fear that she still clings to the oldlove?"
"No, ah no!"
"I never saw Adelaide look better than she does to-night," was Mrs.Travilla's next remark; "what a queenly presence, and noble face shehas, and how very lovely our little Elsie is! She seems to have gainedevery womanly grace without losing a particle of her sweet childishsimplicity and freshness."
Her son assented with a slight sigh, and wandered off in theirdirection. But before he reached the little group, Elsie had takenHarold Allison's arm and was being led away toward the conservatory.Harold had a rare plant to show her, and was glad of the excuse to gether to himself for a few moments.
For the rest of the evening Mr. Travilla devoted himself to Adelaide,his mother looking on with beaming countenance, and thinking howgladly she would welcome the dear girl to her heart and home.
It was past twelve when the company dispersed. Harry and his bridehaving started an hour before upon their wedding tour.
"Get to bed as soon as you can, my dear child; you are looking sadlyfatigued," Mr. Dinsmore said, putting his arm about his daughter asshe came to him for her good-night kiss.
"I will, papa," she answered, clinging to him with more than her usualwarmth of affection. "Dear papa, what could I ever do without you tolove me?"
"My darling, if it please the Lord, may we be long spared to eachother," he whispered, clasping her close. "Now, good-night, and may Hebless you, and keep you, and ever cause his face to shine upon you."
Elsie turned away with eyes full of tears, and her pillow was bedewedwith them ere she slept that night. But the morning found herapparently her own bright, sunny self again.
She was in her mamma's dressing-room soon after breakfast, chattingwith her and Adelaide, Mr. Dinsmore sitting by with Rosebud on hisknee. Of course they were discussing the wedding, how lovely the brideand her attendants looked, how handsome the groom, how tasteful andbecoming was the dress of this lady and that, how attentive was Mr.Such-an-one to Miss So-and-so, etc., etc. Rose making a little jestingallusion to "the devotion of a certain gentleman to Adelaide;" andsaying how delighted she was; nothing could please her better than forthem to fancy each other; when in the midst of it all, a servant cameup with a message. "Mr. Travilla was in the drawing-room asking forMiss Dinsmore,--Miss Adelaide."
She went down at once, and as the door closed upon her, Rose turned toher husband with the laughing remark, "It would be a splendid match!they seem just made for each other. I wonder they didn't find it outlong ago, and I begin to quite set my heart upon it."
"Better not, my dear, lest they disappoint you, and allow me to adviseyou to let match-making alone; 'tis a dangerous business. Elsie, mychild, you are looking pale this morning; late hours do not agreewith you. I think I shall have to take to sending you to bed at nineo'clock again, when once I get you home."
"Won't ten be early enough, papa?" she answered with a faint smile, avivid color suddenly suffusing her cheek.
"Well, we will see about it. But I can't have you looking so. Go andput on your hat and shawl, and I will take you and mamma out for anairing?"
"Looking so?" said Rose, with an arch glance at the glowing cheeks, asshe stooped to take Rosebud in her arms, "she is not pale now."
"No, certainly not," he said. "Come back, daughter," for Elsie hadrisen to obey his order, and was moving toward the door, "come hereand tell me what ails you?"
"I am quite well, papa, only a little tired from last night, Ibelieve," she answered, as he took her hands in his and lookedsearchingly into her face.
"I hope that is all," he said a little anxiously. "You must lie downand try to get a nap when we return from our drive; and remember youmust be in bed by ten o'clock to-night."
"I shall do just as my father bids me," she said, smiling up at him,"my dear father who is so kindly careful of me." Then as he let go herhands, she tripped lightly from the room.
Mr. Travilla had come on an errand from his mother; she beggedAdelaide's advice and assistance in a little shopping.
Adelaide was at leisure, and at once donned bonnet and shawl and wentwith him to the Girard House, where the old lady awaited their coming,and the three spent the remainder of the morning in attending to Mrs.Travilla's purchases and visiting the Academy of Fine Arts. In drivingdown Chestnut street, the Dinsmores passed them on their way to theAcademy.
Adelaide did not return to Mr. Allison's to dinner, but Mr. Travillacalled presently after, to say that she had dined with his mother andhimself at the hotel, and would not return until bed-time, as theywere all going to hear Gough lecture that evening.
He was speaking to Mrs. Allison. Several of the family were in theroom, Elsie among them. She was slipping quietly away, when he turnedtoward her, sayi
ng: "Would you not like to go with us, my littlefriend? I think you would find it entertaining, and we would be gladto have you."
"Thank you, sir, you are very kind, but a prior engagement compels meto decline," she answered, glancing smilingly at her father.
"She has not been looking well to-day, and I have ordered her to goearly to bed to-night," Mr. Dinsmore said.
"Ah, that is right!" murmured Mr. Travilla, rising to take leave.
The Travillas staid a week longer in the city. During that timeAdelaide went out with them, quite frequently, but Elsie saw scarcelyanything of her old friend; which was, however, all her own fault,as she studiously avoided him; much to his grief and disturbance. Hecould not imagine what he had done to so completely estrange her fromhim.
Mr. Dinsmore felt in some haste to be at home again, but Mrs. Allisonpleaded so hard for another week that he consented to delay. Adelaideand Walter went with the Travillas, and wanted to take Elsie withthem, but he would not hear of such an arrangement; while she saidvery decidedly that she could not think of being separated from herfather.
She seemed gay and happy when with the family, or alone with him orRose; but coming upon her unexpectedly in her dressing-room, the dayafter the others had left, he found her in tears.
"Why, my darling, what can be the matter?" he asked, taking her in hisarms.
"Nothing, papa," she said, hastily wiping away her tears and hidingher blushing face on his breast--"I--I believe I'm a little homesick."
"Ah, then, why did you not ask to go with the others?"
"And leave you? Ah, do you not know that my father is more--a greatdeal more than half of home to me?" she answered, hugging him close."And you wouldn't have let me go?"
"No, indeed, not I; but I'm afraid I really ought to read you alecture. I daresay you miss Sophy very much, but still there are youngpeople enough left in the house to keep you from feeling very dull andlonely, I should think; and as you have all your dear ones about you,and expect to go home in a few days--"
"I ought to be cheerful and happy. I know it, papa," she said, as hepaused, leaving his sentence unfinished, "and I'm afraid I'm verywicked and ungrateful. But please don't be vexed with me, and I willtry to banish this feeling of depression."
"I fear you are not well," he said, turning her face to the light andexamining it with keen scrutiny; "tell me, are you ill?"
"No, papa, I think not. Don't be troubled about me."
"I shall send for a doctor if this depression lasts," he saiddecidedly, "for I shall have to conclude that it must arise from somephysical cause, since I know of no other; and it is so foreign to thenature of my sunny-tempered little girl."
He saw no more of it, though he watched her carefully.
Great was the rejoicing at the Oaks when at last the family returned.Adelaide was there to welcome them, and Elsie thought she had neverseen her look so youthful, pretty, and happy, Chloe remarked upon itwhile preparing her young mistress for bed, adding that the report inthe kitchen was that Miss Adelaide and Mr. Travilla were engaged, andwould probably marry very soon.
Elsie made no remark, but her heart seemed to sink like lead in herbosom. "Why am I grieving so? what is there in this news to make mesorry?" she asked herself as she wetted her pillow with her tears."I'm sure I'm very glad that dear Aunt Adie is so happy, and--and Iused often to wish he was my uncle." Yet the tears would not ceasetheir flow till she had wept herself to sleep.
But she seemed bright and gay as usual in the morning, and meetingher parents at the breakfast-table, thought they looked as thoughsomething had pleased them greatly.
It was Rose who told her the news, as an hour later they saunteredaround the garden together, noting the changes which had taken placethere in their absence.
"I have something to tell you, dear," Rose said, and Elsie shiveredslightly, knowing what was coming; "something that pleases your fatherand me very much, and I think will make you glad too. Can you guesswhat it is?"
"About Aunt Adelaide, mamma?" Elsie stooped over a plant, thusconcealing her face from view, and so controlled her voice that itbetrayed no emotion. "Yet; I know; she is engaged."
"And you are pleased with the match, of course; I knew you would be.You used so often to wish that he was your uncle, and now he soon willbe. Your papa and I are delighted; we think there could not have beena more suitable match for either."
"I am very glad for her--dear Aunt Adie--and for--for him too," Elsiesaid, her voice growing a little husky at the last.
But Rose was speaking to the gardener, and did not notice it, andElsie wandered on, presently turned into the path leading to her arborand seeking its welcome privacy, there relieved her full heart by aflood of tears.
Mr. Travilla called that day, but saw nothing of his "little friend,"and in consequence went away very sorrowful, and pondering deeplythe question what he could have done to alienate her affections soentirely from him.
The next day he came again, quite resolved to learn in what he hadoffended, and was overjoyed at hearing that she was alone in herfavourite arbor.
He sought her there and found her in tears. She hastily wiped themaway on perceiving his approach, but could not remove their traces.
"Good-morning," she said, rising and giving him her hand; but with thereserved manner that had now become habitual, instead of the pleasantease and familiarity of earlier days; "were you looking for papa? Ithink he is somewhere on the plantation."
"No, my dear child, it was you I wished to see."
"Me, Mr. Travilla?" and she east down her eyes, while her cheekcrimsoned; for he was looking straight into them with his, so wistfuland tender, so fall of earnest, questioning, sorrowful entreaty, thatshe knew not how to meet their gaze.
"Yes, you, my little friend, for I can no longer endure this torturinganxiety. Will you not tell me, dear child, what I have done to hurt orgrieve you so?"
"I--I'm not hurt or gri--you have always been most kind," shestammered, "most--But why should you think I--I was--"
The rest of the sentence was lost in a burst of tears, and coveringher burning cheeks with her hands, she sank down upon the seat fromwhich she had risen to greet him.
"My dear child, I did not mean to pain you so; do not weep, it breaksmy heart to see it. I was far from intending to blame you, or complainof your treatment," he said in an agitated tone, and bending over herin tender concern. "I only wanted to understand my error in order thatI might retrieve it, and be no longer deprived of your dear society.Oh, little Elsie, if you only knew how I love you; how I have lovedyou, and only you, all these years--as child and as woman--how I havewaited and longed, hoping even against hope, that some day I might beable to win the priceless treasure of your young heart."
Intense, glad surprise made her drop her hands and look up at him."But are you not--I--I thought--I understood--Aunt Adelaide--"
"Your Aunt Adelaide!" he cried, scarcely less astonished than herself,"can it be that you do not know--that you have not heard of herengagement to Edward Allison?"
A light broke upon Elsie at that question, and her face grew radiantwith happiness; there was one flash of exceeding joy in the soft eyesthat met his, and then they sought the ground.
"Oh, my darling, could you? is it--can it be--"
He took her in his arms, folded her close to his heart, calling her byevery tender and endearing name, and she made no effort to escape, orto avoid his caresses; did nothing but hide her blushing face on hisbreast, and weep tears of deep joy and thankfulness.
It might have been half an hour or an hour afterward (they reckonednothing of the flight of time) that Mr. Dinsmore, coming in search ofhis daughter, found them seated side by side, Mr. Travilla with hisarm about Elsie's waist, and her hand in his. So absorbed were they ineach other that they had not heard the approaching footsteps.
It was a state of affairs Mr. Dinsmore was far from expecting, andpausing upon the threshold, he stood spell-bound with astonishment."Elsie!" he said at length.
"Ah, is it so, Elsie, my darling?" faltered the father, opening hisarms to receive her as she flew to him. "Is it so? have I lost thefirst place in my daughter's heart?" he repeated, straining her to hisbreast, and pressing his lips again and again to her fair brow.
"Dear papa, I never loved you better," she murmured, clinging moreclosely to him. "I shall never cease to be your own dear daughter; cannever have any father but you--my own dear, dear papa. And you willnot be left without a little girl to pet and fondle; darling Rosebudwill fill my place."
"She has her own; but neither she nor any one else can ever fillyours, my darling," he answered with a quivering lip. "How can I--howcan I give you up? my first-born, my Elsie's child and mine."
"You will give her to me, my friend?" repeated Travilla. "I willcherish her as the apple of my eye; I shall never take her away fromyou, you may see her every day. You love her tenderly, but she isdearer to me than my own soul."
"If you have won her heart, I cannot refuse you her hand. Say, Elsie,my daughter, is it so?"
"Yes, papa," she whispered, turning her blushing face away from hiskeen, searching gaze.
"I can hardly bear to do it. My precious one, I don't know how toresign you to another," he said in a voice low and tremulous withemotion, and holding her close to his heart; "but since it is yourwish, I must. Take her, my friend, she is yours. But God do so to you,and more also, if ever you show her aught but love and tenderness."
He put her hand into Travilla's, and turned to go. But she clung tohim with the other. "Yours too, papa," she said, looking up into hissad face with eyes that were full of tears, "always your own daughterwho loves you better than life."
"Yes, darling, and who is as dearly loved in return," he said,stooping to press another kiss on the ruby lips. "Let us be happy, forwe are not to part." Then walking quickly away, he left them alonetogether.
Elsie's Girlhood Page 23