Elsie's Womanhood

by Martha Finley

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINTH.

  "O war!--what, what art thou? At once the proof and scourge of man's fallen state." --HANNAH MORE.

  Richard Allison had gone to Lansdale for his bride a fortnight ago; theywere now taking their bridal trip and expected to reach Elmgrove a day ortwo before the wedding of May and Harry Duncan. The latter would bringAunt Wealthy with him, and leave her for a short visit among her friends.

  Sophie's mother and sister-in-law, Mrs. Carrington, and Lucy Ross, cameearlier, arriving only two days after our party from Europe.

  There was great pleasure, yet mingled with profound sadness, in themeeting of these old and dear friends. Lucy and her mother were in deepmourning, and in Mrs. Carrington's countenance Christian resignationblended with heart-breaking sorrow; grief and anxiety had done the work ofa score of years, silvering her hair and ploughing deep furrows in theface that five years ago was still fresh and fair.

  Mr. Travilla had taken wife and children for a morning drive, and on theirreturn, Adelaide, meeting them at the door, said to her niece, "They havecome, they are in Mrs. Carrington's dressing-room; and she begs that youwill go and meet her there. She has always loved you so dearly, and Iknow is longing for your sympathy."

  Elsie, waiting only to lay aside hat and gloves, hastened to grant therequest of the gentle lady for whom she cherished almost a daughter'saffection.

  She found her alone. They met silently, clasping each other in a long,tearful embrace, Mrs. Carrington's sobs for many minutes the only soundthat broke the stillness of the room.

  "I have lost all," she said at length, as they released each other and satdown side by side upon a sofa; "all: husband, sons, home----"

  Sobs choked her utterance, and Lucy coming hastily in at the open door ofthe adjoining room, dropped on her knees by her mother's side, and takingone thin, pale hand in hers, said tearfully, "Not all, dear mamma; youhave me, and Phil, and the children."

  "Me too, mother dear, and your Harry's children," added Sophie, who hadfollowed her sister, and now knelt with her.

  "Yes, yes, dear daughters, I was wrong: I have lost much, but have manyblessings still left, your love not the least; and my grandchildren arescarcely less dear than my own. Lucy, dear, here is Elsie."

  "Yes, our own dear, darling Elsie, scarcely changed at all!" Lucy cried,springing up to greet her friend with a warm embrace.

  A long talk followed, Mrs. Carrington and Sophie giving their experiencesof the war and its results, to which the others listened with deepinterest.

  "Thank God it is over at last!" concluded the elder lady; "and oh, mayHe, in His great goodness and mercy, spare us a repetition of it. Oh, theuntold horrors of civil war--strife among brethren who should know nothingbut love for each other--none can imagine but those who have passedthrough them! There was fault on both sides, as there always is whenpeople quarrel. And what has been gained? Immense loss of property, and offar more precious lives, an exchange of ease and luxury for a hardstruggle with poverty."

  "But it is over, dear mother, and the North will help the South torecuperate," said Lucy. "Phil says so, and I've heard it from others too;just as soon as the struggle ended, people were saying, 'Now they havegiven up, the Union is safe, and we're sorry for them and will do all wecan to help them; for they are our own people.'"

  "Yes, I have been most agreeably surprised at the kind feeling here," hermother answered; "nobody has had a hard word to say of us, so far as Ihave been able to learn; and I have seen nothing like exultation over afallen foe; but on the contrary there seems a desire to lend us a helpinghand and set us on our feet again."

  "Indeed, mother, I assure you that is so," said Sophie.

  "And all through the war," added Lucy, "there was but little hard feelingtowards the people of the South; 'deceived and betrayed by their leaders,they are more to be pitied than blamed,' was the opinion commonlyexpressed by those who stood by the government."

  "And papa says there will be no confiscation of property," Sophie said,"unless it may be merely that of the leaders; and that he will help us torestore Ashlands to what it was: so you will have your own home again,mother."

  "How generous! I can never repay the obligation," Mrs. Carrington said, ina choking voice.

  "But you need not feel overburdened by it, dear mother. It is for Herbert,you know, his own grand son."

  "And mine! Ah, this news fills me with joy and gratitude."

  "Yes, I feel papa's kindness very much," Sophie said, "and hope my sonwill never give him cause to regret it."

  Elsie rose. "I hear my baby crying, and know that he wants his mother.Dear Mrs. Carrington, you are looking very weary; and it is more than anhour yet to dinner-time; will you not lie down and rest?"

  "Yes, and afterwards you must show me your children. I want to see them."

  "Thank you; I shall do so with much pleasure," the young mother answeredsmilingly, as she hastened from the room; for Baby Harold's cries weregrowing importunate.

  This was the regular hour for Eddie and Vi to take a nap, and Elsie foundthem lying quietly in their little bed, while the screaming babe stoutlyresisted the united efforts of his elder sister and Aunt Chloe to pacifyand amuse him.

  "Give him to me, mammy," she said, seating herself by the open window; "itis his mother he wants."

  Little Elsie, ever concerned for her mother's happiness, studied the dearface intently for a moment, and seeing the traces of tears, drew nearand, putting an arm about her neck, "Mamma," she said tenderly, "dearmamma, what troubles you? May I know about it?"

  Mrs. Travilla explained briefly, telling of Mrs. Carrington's trials, andof those of other old friends and neighbors in the South.

  "Mamma," said the child, with eyes filled to overflowing, "I am very sorryfor them all, and for you. Mamma, it is like Jesus to shed tears for otherpeople's troubles: but, mamma, I think it is too much; there are so many,it makes you sorry all the time, and I can't bear it."

  The mother's only answer was a silent caress, and the child went on: "Ihope nobody else will come with such sad stories to make you cry. Is thereanybody else to do it, mamma?"

  "I think not, dear; there are only Aunt Wealthy, who has not lost any nearfriend lately, and--Why there she is now! the dear old soul!" she brokeoff joyously, for at that instant a carriage, which she had been watchingcoming up the drive, drew up before the door, and a young gentleman and alittle old lady alighted.

  Aunt Chloe took the babe, and Elsie hastened down to meet her aunt, herlittle daughter following.

  To the child's great relief it was an altogether joyous greeting thistime; both Miss Stanhope, and her escort, Harry Duncan, were looking veryhappy, which caused her to regard them with much satisfaction, and thekisses asked of her were given very readily.

  "Were you expecting us to-day, Mrs. Allison?" Harry asked, turning toAdelaide.

  "Yes; I received your telegram."

  "Business hurried us off two days sooner than we expected," said MissStanhope. "I would have written, but was so very busy with papers andpainterers doing the house all up new; and putting down new curtains, andtacking up new carpets, till, Elsie, the old place would hardly know you."

  The old lady's heart was evidently full to overflowing, with happiness atthe prospect of seeing May installed as future mistress in the prettycottage at Lansdale.

  Yet there was no lack of sympathy in the sorrows or joys of others; shewept with them all over their losses past and prospective; for she, too,saw that Harold must soon pass away from earth, and while rejoicing withhim, when she learned how gladly he would obey the summons, her heart yetbled for those to whom he was so dear.

  Richard and his bride arrived in due season. The latter had lost no nearrelative by the war, and--to wee Elsie's delight--the meeting between"Aunt Lottie and mamma," seemed one of unalloyed pleasure.

  Unlike those of her older sisters, May's was a private wedding--none butthe family and a few near relatives and
connections being present. Thoughdeeply attached to Harry, and trusting him fully, much of sadness wasunavoidably mingled with her happiness as she prepared for her bridal. Itcould not be otherwise, as she thought of Fred in his soldier grave,Harold soon to follow, and Sophie--whose had been the last wedding in thepaternal home, and so gay and joyous a one--now in her widow's weeds andwell-nigh broken-hearted.

  "Mine will not be a gay bridal," May had said, in arranging her plans;"and I will just wear my traveling suit."

  But Harold objected. "No, no, May; I want to see you dressed as Rose andSophie were--in white, with veil and orange blossoms. Why shouldn't yourbeauty be set off to the best advantage as well as theirs, even thoughonly the eyes of those who love you will look upon it?"

  And so it was; for Harold's wishes were sacred now.

  They were married in the morning; and after a sumptuous breakfast thebridal attire was exchanged for the traveling suit, and the new-madehusband and wife set out upon their wedding trip. It was very sad for poorMay to leave, not only childhood's home, parents, and brothers and sisterswhose lease of life seemed as likely to be long as her own, but to partfrom the dying one to whom she was most tenderly attached.

  But Harry promised to bring her back; and she was to be immediatelysummoned, in case of any marked unfavorable change in the invalid.

  Then, too, Harold was so serenely happy in the prospect before him, andtalked so constantly of it as only going home a little while before therest, and of how at length all would be reunited in that better land, tospend together an eternity of bliss, that it had robbed death of half itsgloom and terror.

  It was Harold's earnest desire that all his dear ones should be as gay andhappy as though he were in health; he would not willingly cast a shadowover the pathway of any of them, for a day; especially the newly married,whose honeymoon, he said, ought to be a very bright spot for them to lookback upon in all after years.

  So Lottie felt it right to let her heart swell with gladness in the newlove that crowned her life; and the time passed cheerfully and pleasantlyto the guests at Elmgrove.

  Mrs. Ross and her mother, and Miss Stanhope, remained for a fortnightafter the wedding. All were made to feel themselves quite at home in bothhouses; the two families were much like one, and usually spent theirevenings together, in delightful social intercourse; Harold in their midston his couch, or reclining in an easy chair, an interested listener to thetalk and occasionally joining in it.

  One evening when they were thus gathered about him, Mrs. Carrington,looking compassionately upon the pale, patient face, remarked, "You suffera great deal, Captain Allison?"

  "Yes, a good deal," he answered cheerfully, "but not more than I caneasily endure, remembering that it is 'whom the Lord loveth Hechasteneth.'"

  "You take a very Christian view of it; but do your sufferings arouse nobitterness of feeling towards the South?"

  "Oh, no!" he answered, earnestly, "why should they? The people of theSouth were not responsible for what was done at Andersonville; perhaps theConfederate government was so only in a measure; and Wirtz was aforeigner. Besides, there was a great deal endured by rebel prisoners insome of our Northern prisons. Father," turning to the elder Mr. Allison,"please tell Mrs. Carrington about your visit to Elmira."

  The others had been chatting among themselves, but all paused to listen asMr. Allison began his narrative.

  "We learned that a young relative of my wife was confined there, and ill.I went at once to see what could be done for him, and finding the prisonin charge of a gentleman who was under much obligation to me, gainedadmittance without much difficulty. It was a wretched place, and theprisoners were but poorly fed; which was far more inexcusable here than atthe South, where food was scarce in their own army and among the people."

  "I know that to have been the case," said Mrs. Carrington. "The farmerswere not allowed to make use of their grain for their own families, till acertain proportion had been taken for the army; and there were familiesamong us who did not taste meat for a year."

  "Yes; the war has been hard for us, but far harder upon them. I found ouryoung friend in a very weak state. I succeeded in getting permission toremove him to more comfortable quarters, and did so; but he lived scarcelytwo days after."

  "How very sad," remarked Elsie, with emotion. "Oh, what a terrible thingis war!"

  "Especially civil war," said the elder Mrs. Allison; "strife amongbrethren; its fruits are bitter, heart-rending."

  "And being all one people there was equal bravery, talent, anddetermination on both sides; which made the struggle a very desperateone," said Harold.

  "And the military tic-tacs were the same," added Aunt Wealthy; "and thenspeaking the same language, and looking so much alike, foes weresometimes mistaken for friends, and versa-vice."

  "A brother-in-law of Louise's was confined in Fort Delaware for somemonths," said Adelaide, addressing her brother, "and wrote to me for somearticles of clothing he needed badly, adding, 'If you could send mesomething to eat, it would be most thankfully received.' I sent twice, butneither package ever reached him."

  "Too bad! too bad!" said Mr. Dinsmore; "yet very likely it was through nofault of the government."

  "No; I am satisfied that individuals--selfish, unscrupulous men of whomthere were far too many on both sides, were the real culprits, and thatthe government intended every prisoner should be made as comfortable ascircumstances would permit," said Mr. Allison. "But there are men who madelarge fortunes by swindling the government and robbing our brave soldiers;men unworthy of the name! who would sell their own souls for gold!"

  "You are right, sir!" said Mr. Travilla; "one who could take advantage ofthe necessities of his own country, to enrich himself by robbing her, isnot worthy to be called a man."

  "And I esteem an officer who could rob the soldiers very little better,"said Daisy. "Again and again canned fruits and other niceties, sent byladies for the comfort of the sick and wounded men, were appropriated byofficers who did not need them, and knew they were not given to them."

  "And the conclusion of the whole matter," said Harold, with his placid,patient smile, "is that there were on both sides men who, loving andseeking their own interest above country, personal honor, or anythingelse, would bring disgrace upon any cause. No, Mrs. Carrington, I have nobitter feeling towards the South. My heart aches for her people in theirbereavements, their losses, and all the difficulties of reconstruction andadapting themselves to the new order of things which is the result of thewar."

  Elsie had several times expressed to her husband and father a deep anxietyto hear from Viamede, and had written to both Mr. Mason and Spriggs,inquiring about the people and the condition of the estate, yet with butslight hope of reply, as all communication with the place had been cut offfor years, and it was more than likely that one or both had been driven,or drifted away from his post during the progress of the war.

  She was therefore greatly pleased when, on entering the parlor one morningon her return from a drive, she found Mr. Mason there waiting for aninterview.

  "You are not direct from Viamede!" she asked, when they had exchanged acordial greeting.

  "No, Mrs. Travilla," he answered; "I stayed as long as I could, but notbeing willing to go into the army, was finally compelled to leave. Thatwas more than two years ago. But I received a letter from Spriggs onlyyesterday, written from the estate. He was in the Confederate service; andwhen the struggle was over, went back to Viamede.

  "He says it was not visited by either army, and has suffered only fromneglect. The old house-servants are still there--Aunt Phillis, Aunt Sally,and the rest; many of the field hands, too, occupying their old quarters,but looking ragged and forlorn enough.

  "They are willing to work for wages, and Spriggs begs of me to find outwhere you are, and tell you that, if you wish it and will furnish themeans, he will hire them, and do the best he can to restore the place andmake it profitable to you.

  "I saw your name in the list of arrivals by a late st
eamer, and with somelittle painstaking, at length learned where you were."

  "I am very glad you have come, Mr. Mason; and I am inclined to think wellof Mr. Spriggs' proposition," Elsie answered; "but I must consult my--Ah,here they are!" as the husband and father entered the room together.

  The matter was under discussion for the next half-hour, when it wasdecided to accept Mr. Spriggs' proposal, for the present at least.

  Elsie then said to Mr. Mason that she hoped he was not engaged, as shewould be glad to have him return to Viamede and resume his former dutiesthere.

  He colored and laughed, as he answered, "I am engaged, Mrs. Travilla,though not in the sense you mean, and shall be glad to comply with yourwish, if you do not object to my taking a wife with me."

  "Not at all," she answered, smiling; "the Bible says, 'it is not good forman to be alone,' and I hope you will be all the happier and more usefulin the Master's service for having a better-half with you. A suite ofrooms shall be placed at your service and your wants attended to asformerly."

  Mr. Mason returned warm thanks for her kindness, and took his departure,evidently well-pleased with the result of his call.