ELSIE'SCHILDREN

A SEQUEL TO"ELSIE'S MOTHERHOOD"

ByMARTHA FINLEY

Complete Authorized Edition

Published by arrangement withDodd, Mead and Company

A. L. BURT COMPANY

PUBLISHERSNew York Chicago

DODD, MEAD & COMPANY. 

1877

1905, BYDODD, MEAD & COMPANY. 

Preface. 

With this volume, bringing the Story of Elsieand her Children down to the present time, theseries closes. 

It was not by request of the author's _personal_friends, that either this or any one of the previousvolumes was written, but in acquiescence with thedemands of the Public--the friends and admirersof Elsie herself; and we know that as child, asyoung girl, as wife and mother, she has had manyfriends who have been loath to part with her. May they find neither her nor her children lesslovable in this, than in the earlier volumes, andmay their society prove sweet, comforting and helpfulto many readers and friends both old and new. 

M. F. 

Elsie's Children. 

CHAPTER FIRST. 

 "Of all the joys that brighten suffering earth, What joy is welcom'd like a new-born child. " --MRS. NORTON. 

A merry scene in the nursery at Viamede, where the little Travillas arewaiting for their morning half hour with "dear mamma. " Mammy coming insmiling and mysterious, her white apron thrown over something heldcarefully in her arms, bids the children guess what it is. 

"A new dolly for me?" says Vi; "I'm going to have a birthday to-morrow. "

"A kite, " ventured Harold. "No, a balloon. "

"A tite! a tite!" cried little Herbert, clapping his hands. 

"Pshaw! it's nothing but a bundle of clothes mammy's been doing up for oneof you girls, " said Eddie. "I see a bit of lace or work, or something, hanging down below her apron. "

"Is it a new dress for Vi, mammy?" asked Elsie, putting her arm about hersister and giving her a loving kiss. 

"Yah, yah; you ain't no whar nigh it yet, chillens, " laughed mammy, dropping into a chair, and warding off an attempt on the part of littleHerbert to seize her prize and examine it for himself. 

"Oh, it's alive, " cried Harold, half breathlessly, "I saw it move!" Thenas a slight sound followed the movement, "A baby! a baby!" they allexclaim, "O, mammy, whose is it? where did you get it? oh, sit down andshow it to us!"

"Why, chillen, I reckon it 'longs to us, " returned mammy, complying withthe request, while they gathered closely about her with eager anddelighted faces. 

"Ours, mammy? Then I'm glad it isn't black or yellow like the babies downat the quarter, " said Harold, eying it with curiosity and interest. 

"So am I too, " remarked Violet, "but it's got such a red face and hardlyany hair on the top of its head. "

"Well, don't you remember that's the way Herbie looked when he firstcame?" said Eddie. 

"And he grew very white in a few weeks, " remarked Elsie. "But is itmamma's baby, mammy?"

"Yes, honey, dat it am; sho's yer born, 'nother pet for ole mammy, --debressed little darlin', " she answered, pressing the little creature toher breast. 

The information was received with a chorus of exclamations of delight andadmiration. 

"Tate a bite of cacker, boy, " said Herbert, offering a cracker which hewas eating with evident enjoyment. 

Mammy explained, amid the good-natured laughter of the older children, that the newcomer had no teeth and couldn't eat anything but milk. 

"Oh, poor 'ittle fing!" he said, softly touching its velvet cheek. "Won't'oo tum and pay wis Herbie?"

"No, it can't play, " said Violet, "it can't walk and it can't talk. "

"Where's mamma, mammy?" asked Eddie, glancing at the clock; "it's past hertime; I wonder too she didn't come to show us the new baby herself. "

"She's sick, chile, " returned mammy, a grave and anxious look coming intoher old eyes. 

"Mamma sick?" exclaimed little Elsie, "oh, may I go to her?"

Mammy shook her head. "Not jes now, honey darlin', byme by, when she'sbettah. "

"Mamma sick?" echoed Violet. "Oh, I'm so, so sorry!"

"Don't fret, chillen, de good Lord make her well again soon, " said mammy, with cheerful hopefulness, for she could not bear to see how sad eachlittle face had grown, how the young lips quivered, and the bright eyesfilled with tears; for dearly, dearly, they all loved their sweet, gentlemother. 

"Herbie wants mamma, " sobbed the baby boy, clinging to his eldest sister. 

"Don't cry, pet, " Elsie said chokingly, hugging him close and kissing awayhis tears. "We'll all ask God to make her well, and I'm sure he will. "

"Why! why! what's the matter here?" cried a cheery voice, as the dooropened and Mr. Travilla stepped into their midst. "What's the matter withpapa's darlings?" he repeated, gathering them all into his arms, andcaressing each in turn. 

"Is mamma, dear mamma, very sick?" they asked, Vi immediately adding injoyous tones, "No, no, she isn't, or papa wouldn't look so happy. "

"I am very happy, " he said with emotion, glancing toward the bundle inmammy's lap, "we are both very happy over the new treasure God has givenus; and I trust she will soon be well. "

"Can we go and speak to her?" they asked. 

"After a while, " he said, "she is trying to sleep now. What do you allthink of the little sister?"

"Sister, " cried Elsie. "Oh, that is nice, nice! I thought it was a boy. What's its name, papa?"

"It has none yet. "

"I sorry for it, " remarked Herbert, gazing with curious interest at thetiny creature, "I sorry for it; cause can't walk, can't talk, can't eatgood fings; dot no teef to eat wis. Do, boy, try to eat cacker, cackerdood, Herbie likes, " and breaking off a fragment he would have forced itinto the wee mouth, if papa and mammy had not interfered for itsprotection. 

"No, no, my son, you would choke it, " said Mr. Travilla, gently drawinghim away. 

"It isn't a boy; it's a girl, Herbie, " corrected Harold. 

"Oh!" cried Vi, who was gently feeling the top of the tiny head, and shelooked aghast at her father, "O, papa, its head's rotten!"

"No, daughter, don't be alarmed, " he said smiling slightly, "there'snothing wrong there; all young babies' heads are soft like that on thetop. "

"Oh, are they?" she said with a sigh of relief, "I was afraid it wouldspoil soon and we couldn't keep her. "

"No, she seems to be all right, " he said with a grave and tender smile. "God has been very good to us. "

"Yes, papa. Oh such a pretty darling as it is!" said Elsie. 

"Yes, indeed, " chimed in the others; Vi adding, "and I'm so glad she's agirl: 'cause now we have two sisters, Elsie, just the same as the boys. "

"Oh, but we have three now!" said Eddie, laughing good naturedly at Vi'screstfallen look. 

"Oh, yes, " she acknowledged, then brightening, "but we have threebrothers, and you only two; so it's even all around after all, isn't it, papa?"

The children were full of delight over their treasure, and eager to showit to grandpa, grandma, Aunt Rosie, Aunt Wealthy and Aunt May; regrettingmuch that the rest of their friends had left Viamede before the advent ofthe little stranger. 

She proved a frail, gentle little creature, with violet eyes and palegolden hair, so fair and delicate that Lily was the name that most readilysuggested itself and the one finally settled upon as really hers. 

Lily became a great pet with them all, but Violet claimed a specialproperty in her because as she would say, "The darling came to us almoston my birthday and she's just the sweetest, prettiest birthday presentmamma ever gave me. "

The weather was growing very warm at Viamede and Aunt Wealthy and thelittle Duncans found the heat oppressive; so when Lily was three weeks oldand the dear mamma able to be up again, looking bright and well, thatparty bade good-bye and set out on their return to Lansdale. 

The Dinsmores and Travillas lingered until the middle of May, when theytoo set their faces northward, not parting company till very near to Ionand the Oaks. 

CHAPTER SECOND. 

 "Envy is but the smoke of low estate, Ascending still against the fortunate. " --BROOKE. 

It was dark and raining a little when the carriage turned into the avenueat Ion; but the whole front of the house was ablaze with lights, the halldoor stood wide open, and a double line of servants in holiday attire, each sooty face dressed in smiles, stood waiting to welcome the wearytravelers home. 

There were many hearty shakings and kissings of hands; many ferventejaculations: "God bless you, Massa and Missus!" "Tank de Lord you's gothome again, honey. We's been pinin' for you darlin's and for de sight ofde new baby, " and with the last words the voices were lowered at a signfrom Aunt Chloe, in whose arms the little Lily lay sleeping sweetly. 

There was some fretting among the weary little ones, but mamma and nurseswere kind and gentle, and a good supper and bed soon cured all theirtroubles for that night. 

Little Elsie was roused from her slumbers by a gentle shake, and startingup in bed, found the sun shining and Vi standing by her side with eager, excited face. 

"Come, come to the window!" she cried. "It does seem as if I must bedreaming; it wasn't there before, I'm sure. "

"What?" asked Elsie, springing out upon the floor and hurrying after Vi tothe window from which she had witnessed the burning of the schoolhouse. 

"There!" said Violet, pointing with her finger, "there! can you see ittoo?"

"Oh!" exclaimed Elsie, clasping her hands in a sort of ecstasy of delight, "oh, aren't papa and mamma good? How did they ever come to think of it!and how could they get it done while they were away?"

"Grandpa, Uncle Horace and Cal, " suggested Vi. "Oh, aren't you glad?Aren't you glad, Elsie?"

"I should think so! and the boat is ever so pretty. Let's hurry and getdressed and go down and see it closer. "

Rowing and sailing upon the bayou and lakelet had been the children'sgreatest pleasure at Viamede, their greatest regret in leaving it. Knowingthis, their ever indulgent parents had prepared a pleasant surprise forthem, causing a small tract of barren land on the Ion estate to be turnedinto an artificial lake. It was this, shining in the golden beams of themorning sun, and a beautiful boat moored to the hither shore, that hadcalled forth from the lips of the little girls those exclamations ofalmost incredulous wonder and delight. 

"Yes; I'll ring for Dinah, " cried Vi, skipping across the room and puttingout her hand to lay hold of the bell pull. 

"Wait, Vi, our prayers first, you know, " said Elsie. 

"Oh, yes! I do want to thank God for being so good to us; the pretty lakeand boat and all. "

"Dear kind parents, safe journey home, too, and oh more things than we cancount, " added Elsie, as they knelt down side by side. 

This duty performed with no irreverent haste, the maid was summoned and acareful toilet made in season to afford them time for a walk before mammawould be ready to see them. 

They found their father in the lower veranda talking with the overseer, while Solon stood waiting with Beppo's bridle in his hand, the horsepawing the ground with impatience. 

Eddie was there, too, caressing Bruno who seemed as glad to be at homeagain as any of the rest. Uttering a joyous bark he left his young masterand bounded to meet the little girls. 

Mr. Travilla turned at the sound and with a kind fatherly smile, held outhis hands. 

"O papa, " they cried running to him, "how good of you to have it made forus!"

"Good-morning, my darlings, " he said, giving and receiving caresses, "butwhat are you talking about?"

"Why the lake, papa; the lake and the boat. "

"Lake?" exclaimed Eddie, "why where?"

"Oh, you couldn't see it from your windows, " said Elsie. "Papa, papa, maywe go now and look at it?"

"Yes, " he said, taking a hand of each. "Larkin, I'll see you again afterbreakfast. Come, Eddie, my son, you too, and Bruno. "

A brisk five minutes' walk brought them to the shore of the lake, a tinyone, scarce a quarter of a mile in circumference, not very deep and thewater so clear that the pebbly bottom could be distinctly seen; gold andsilver fish, too, gliding hither and thither; while a pretty, gaylypainted row-boat lying at the water's edge, rocked gently in the morningbreeze. 

Eddie hailed the scene with a shout of delight; the little girls dancedabout gleefully, Vi clapping her hands and asking eagerly if they mightget into the boat. 

Papa looked at his watch, "Yes, there will be time for a row; one triparound the lake. Step in, all of you, and I will take the oars. "

Vi was quite ready and Eddie gallantly handed her in, then turned andoffered his hand to Elsie. She demurred. "But mamma! shouldn't we havemamma with us the first time?" and she looked up inquiringly into herfather's face. 

"Yes, yes, of course!" cried the others making haste to step ashore again, "we want dear mamma with us the very first time. "

Papa smiled approval. "Then we will go back, " he said, "and afterbreakfast, if mamma is willing, we will all come and take a row together;the boat is large enough to carry us all at once. "

Mamma's consent was readily obtained, for to please her children was hergreat delight. So shortly after breakfast they all repaired to the lakeand rowed round and across it several times, a merry, happy party. 

At Roselands the family were gathered about the breakfast table and theprincipal topic of conversation was the return of the party from Viamede. Calhoun had been to the Oaks the previous evening and learned of theirsafe arrival. 

"We must all go this morning and call upon them, " said Mr. Dinsmore. 

"We'll divide our forces, " said Cal, laughing. "Suppose grandpa, motherand Aunt Enna, go first to the Oaks; and we younger ones to Ion?"

"Very well, " replied the old gentleman, "I shall spend an hour with myson, then ride over to see Elsie and her little flock. How many of youyoung folks want to go to Ion in the first division?"

"I!" "And I!" "And I!" cried one and another. 

"But you can't go all at once, " returned their grandfather, lookingaround upon them with an amused smile; "the carriage is roomy, but reallyyou are too many for it. Besides wouldn't there be some danger ofoverwhelming your cousins?"

"Well, I'm going, let who will stay at home, " observed Molly Percival withcool decision. "The boys can ride, I mean Cal, and Art, and Dick and Wal;they all have ponies and the two carriages will hold the rest of us if wecrowd a little. "

"I'm not going to be bothered with Bob or Betty, " said her mother; "theymay go with you, or wait till another time. "

"Then they'll wait, " remarked Isadore Conly, "for I shall wear my bestsilk suit, and I have no notion of having it tumbled. "

"Last year's suit is quite good enough for the occasion, " said her mother, "they're only cousins. "

"But rich ones, that can afford to dress, and I'll not go a step if I haveto look shabby. "

"Nor I, " chimed in her sister. "So mamma you may as well resign yourselfto the situation. It's no good finding fault or objecting, " she added witha laugh. 

"Take your own way, then, " returned her mother indifferently, "butremember there'll be no more new dresses this season. "

"Dear me, why aren't we as rich as the Travillas?" pouted Isadore. "I dothink things are very unequally divided in this world. "

"Never mind; the wheel of fortune often takes a turn, " said her mother. "You may have money left you some day (some of your father's relations arestill rich), and you may make a grand match. "

"How long will it take you girls to don your finery?" ask Cal, pulling outhis watch. "We'd better start as soon as we can: the sun will be gettinghot. "

"I'm done, " said Molly, jumping up, "and I'll be ready by the time thecarriage can be brought to the door. Come Isa and Virgy, you've eatenenough. Cousin Elsie will be sure to treat us to something good. " And sheran gayly from the room. 

Molly, just turned thirteen, and already as tall as her mother, was abright, lively girl, full of fun and frolic. She was not a beauty, but hada clear complexion and fine dark eyes, and good humor and intelligencelent a charm to her face that made it more than ordinarily attractive. 

Dick had always been fond of her, and was beginning to take a brotherlypride in her good looks and intellectual gifts. 

Enna's feelings toward her were divided between motherly pride andaffection on the one hand, and on the other the dread of being made toappear old by the side of so tall a daughter; a dread that made herjealous of Dick also. 

The Conly girls, too, were growing fast, giving promise of fair, gracefulwomanhood, Isadore particularly of great beauty; which her mother fondlyhoped would be the means of securing her a wealthy husband; for Mrs. Conly's affections were wholly set upon the things of this life; by herand her sister Enna, wealth and beauty were esteemed the highest good, andtheir children were trained in accordance with that view; the moralatmosphere of the house being very different from that of Ion, where thelives and conversation of the parents were such as to leave no doubt inthe minds of their children, that to them the things of time and sensewere as nothing in comparison with those of eternity. 

Enna followed her daughter into the dressing-room they used in common. 

"Wear the very best you have, Molly, " she said, "I don't want you to belooked down upon as a poor relation, or to have it said that the Conlysdress better than my children. "

"I'm sure they don't, " said Molly, ringing for the maid, "though they'dlike to if they could, and are always jealous when grandpa makes me apresent. "

"Of course they are, and they manage to get more than their fair share, too, " acquiesced the mother in a tone of irritation; "but do you see to itthat they don't get ahead of you at Ion; remember Elsie is as rich as aJew, and likes the credit of being generous, so keep on the right side ofher, if you want handsome presents. "

"I'm sure she is generous and doesn't give only for the credit of it, "said Molly. 

"Don't give me any impudence, " returned her mother sharply. "Rachel, " tothe maid who just then came in in answer to the bell, "dress Miss Mollyfirst, and be quick about it. "

Enna superintended the business in person, and in a way that sorely triedthe temper and nerves of both Molly and the maid; the child's sash must betied and retied, her hat bent this way and that, her collar and broochchanged again and again, till she was ready to cry with impatience; andwhen at last she started for the door, she was called back, and Rachelordered to change her slippers for gaiter boots. 

"I don't want to wear them!" cried Molly, fairly stamping with impatience. "The heels are so high and narrow, I can't bear them. "

"They're just the style and make your foot look beautiful, " said hermother, "sit down and let Rachel put them on you. "

"Grandpa says they're dangerous, and so does Dr. Barton, too, " grumbledMolly. 

"Put them on her, Rachel, " commanded Enna. "Molly, behave yourself, oryou'll stay at home. "

The child submitted rather sullenly, muttering that she would be late. 

Rachel was fastening the second boot, when Isadore and Virginia were heardrunning down the stairs, calling out that the carriage was at the door. 

"There! I knew you'd make me too late!" cried Molly. "Oh, Rachel, dohurry!"

"Yes, Miss Molly, best I kin; dar dat's de las' button. "

Up sprang Molly, and away in hot haste. She gained the landing, caught herheel in the carpet on the first step of the next flight, and a wild shriekrang through the house, accompanied by the sound of a heavy body tumblingand rolling down the stairs. 

Echoing the scream, Enna rushed out into the upper hall. 

Calhoun at the foot of the stairs, was picking Molly up. 

"Is she hurt? Is she killed?" asked the mother, "Molly, Molly, how did youcome to be so awkward?"

"I wasn't! it was those heels; I knew they'd throw me down some day!"cried the child in tones of mingled anger, fright and pain. 

"H'm! you're not killed; haven't even had the temper knocked out of you, "remarked Enna, going back to her dressing. 

"Poor child, you must be hurt, " said Calhoun, laying her gently on a sofa, "but no bones broken, I hope?"

"I--I don't know, " sobbed Molly, "it's my back. Oh, dear! oh, dear!"

"Oh, Molly, are you much hurt? shall I go for the doctor?" asked Dick, coming to her side pale with fright. "Mac's right here at the door, readysaddled and bridled, and----"

"Go for the doctor?" interrupted Molly. "No, indeed! It's very good inyou, Dick, but I don't want him; I am going to Ion with the rest of you. I'm ready now. "

"You don't look much like it; you're as pale as a ghost, " he said, Calhounadding, "You'd better lie still for a while, Molly; Dick or I will takeyou over this evening, if you find yourself able to go then. "

"Thank you, but I'm going now, " she answered with decision, getting up andtaking Dick's arm. 

He helped her to the carriage, where Isadore, Virginia, and some of theyounger ones sat waiting, and placed her in it. 

She wiped away her tears and tried to smile, while answering the questionsand condolences of the others, and the party moved on. 

By the time Ion was reached, most of them had nearly forgotten Molly'saccident, till Elsie remarked that she was looking pale, and asked if shewere quite well. 

That brought out the story of her fall. 

Elsie heard it with grave concern but asked few questions as Molly seemedannoyed that the subject had been introduced. It was a habit of hermother's to scold her for awkwardness, and the child was sensitive on thatpoint. 

When the young people had left and the older members of the Roselandsfamily called, Elsie seized a favorable opportunity to speak of Molly'spale looks and urge the importance of calling in a physician that if therewere any reason to apprehend serious results from the fall, measures mightbe promptly taken to avert the danger. 

"She can't have been seriously hurt, " returned Enna coldly, "or shewouldn't have been ready to get into the carriage the next minute and rideover here. "

"By the way, " said her father, "I haven't heard what caused her fall. "

"She's an awkward child, always tumbling about, " returned Enna reddening. 

"Especially since she wears those fashionable boots with the high narrowheels, " he remarked. "Had she them on when she fell?"

Enna reluctantly admitted that such was the fact. 

"I'll send them into town to-day, with orders that full half the heelshall be taken off, " he said with angry decision. 

CHAPTER THIRD. 

 "'Tis a goodly scene-- Yon river, like a silvery snake, lays out His coil i' the sunshine lovingly. " --HUNT. 

The family at Ion presently fell into the old routine of study, work andplay, Elsie resuming the duties of governess; but as the heated term drewon, she and the little ones, especially the babe, began to droop. 

"You must go north for the summer, " said Dr. Barton, "start as soon aspossible and don't return till October. "

"Would you recommend the seashore?" asked Mr. Travilla. 

"H'm! that might answer very well, but mountain air would, I think, bebetter. "

"Oh then, mamma!" cried Vi, who was present and had been an eager buthitherto silent listener, "won't you accept Aunt Lucy's invitation?"

"Perhaps, daughter, " Elsie said smiling indulgently into the bright littleface, "but we will take time to consider what will be best. "

"Where is that?" asked the doctor, "Lucy Ross, I suppose, but I'veforgotten where they live. "

"On the banks of the Hudson a few miles south of Newburgh. The Crags theycall their place, and a beautiful one it is. 'Twas only yesterday Ireceived a letter from Lucy, urging us to come and spend the summer withher. "

"I should say go by all means, " said the doctor, taking leave. 

There were reasons for hesitation on the part of the careful parents ofwhich the physician knew nothing. The young Rosses, all unused to control, were a willful set not likely to exert a beneficial influence over otherchildren; that was the demur. 

However the final decision was in favor of the visit, and a few days laterthey set out upon their journey; Mr. Horace Dinsmore taking charge ofthem, as business made it inconvenient for Mr. Travilla to leave just atthat time. 

From New York they passed up the Hudson in a steamboat; the carriage fromthe Crags was found in waiting at the landing, and a short drive broughtthem to the house, which stood high up above the river, in the midst ofmagnificent mountain scenery. 

The Ion children, taught from early infancy to notice the beauties ofnature, were in ecstasies of delight, exclaiming anew at every turn in theroad, calling each other's, mamma's or grandpa's attention to thesparkling river, the changing shadows on the mountainsides, here abeetling crag, there a waterfall or secluded glen. Having rested theprevious night, sleeping soundly at a hotel, they were not wearied withtravel but seemed fresher now than when they left their home. 

Lucy and her little flock, gathered on the front porch to receive theirguests, gave them a warm welcome. The two ladies had lost none of theaffection for each other which had been one of the happinesses of theirchildhood and early youth, and each loved the children of the other forthe mother's sake if not for their own. They numbered the same, butSophie, Lucy's youngest, was now in her fifth year, and Baby Lily wasgreeted with many expressions and demonstrations of delight. 

Lucy excused her husband's absence: he was away on business, she said, butwould be at home before night. 

"Where's Phil?" asked Eddie, turning to Gertrude. 

"Oh, he's at boarding-school, don't you know?" she answered. "He'll behome in vacation; but that doesn't begin for two weeks yet. "

Mr. Dinsmore tarried for a few days, then returned to the neighborhood ofPhiladelphia, where he had left his wife and Rosie, who were visitingtheir northern relatives. 

Miss Fisk was still governess at the Crags, and when the children had hada week of play together, it was thought best by the mammas, that two hoursof each morning should be devoted to lessons. 

Knowing Miss Fisk to be not only well educated and refined, but also aconscientious and good woman, Elsie was willing to entrust her children toher care; the more so, because Lily in her feeble state, required much ofher own time and attention. 

In the midst of a beautiful grove of oaks and maples, on the side of ahill, scarce more than a stone's throw from the mansion, and within fullview of its windows, stood a small brick building owned by Mr. Ross, andused as a summer schoolroom for the children. 

It was a cool shady spot, enlivened by the songs of the wild birds whobuilt their nests in the trees, and the musical tinkle of a littlewaterfall that came tumbling down from the heights above not half-a-dozenyards from the door. 

Mr. Ross had furnished the room with comfortable and convenient chairs anddesks, and Lucy had made it pretty and tasteful with white muslin curtainsand neatly papered walls of a soft neutral tint, enlivened by a few gaylycolored pictures. Woodwork and floor were stained a rich dark brown, bright soft rugs were scattered here and there; and altogether the placewas as inviting as a lady's parlor. 

The Ion children were well content to spend here two or three hours ofthat part of the day when the sun was too hot for them to be exposed tohis rays with safety and comfort: the others found lessons made much moreagreeable by the companionship of their young guests, and Miss Fisk wasglad to take them under her charge, because by their intelligence theyadded greatly to the interest of her work, while their respectful obedientbehavior exerted an excellent influence upon her other pupils. 

Before leaving home, Elsie, after careful and prayerful consideration, thought it best to have a plain talk with her older children about thetemptations that were likely to assail them during their visit to theCrags. 

They had had some past experience of the ways of Lucy's children, and sheknew they had not forgotten it; and reminding them of the Bibledeclaration, that "evil communications corrupt good manners, " she badethem, while refraining as far as possible from judging their littlefriends, at the same time to carefully avoid following their example inanything they knew to be wrong. 

"Mamma, " said Vi, "perhaps sometimes we mightn't know if it was wrong!"

"I think you will, daughter, if you take a moment to think; and if you aredoubtful, you may be pretty sure it is wrong. "

"Mamma, we mustn't tell tales to you?"

"No, dear; but perhaps you can consult me without that; and do not forgetthat you can always lift up your heart to God for help to know and do theright. "

"Yes, mamma, " returned the little girl thoughtfully, "and I do believeElsie will 'most always be there and know what's right. "

"I'm not sure, " said her sister, with a grave shake of the head, "I wishwe could always have mamma by to tell us. "

"But mamma cannot be with you always, darlings, " Elsie said, regardingthem with yearning tenderness, "and so, as your papa and I have often toldyou, you must learn to think and decide for yourselves; about some thingsnow, and about others as you grow older and wiser. Some things the Bibletells us plainly, and in regard to those we have nothing to do but obey. "

CHAPTER FOURTH. 

 "A child left to himself bringeth his mother to shame. " --PROVERBS xxix. 15. 

Lucy, too, had a talk with her children, in which she begged them quitepathetically, not to disgrace her before the expected guests, Mr. Dinsmoreespecially, who was so very strict in his ideas of how children ought tobe brought up, and how they should behave. 

They promised readily enough to "behave splendidly" and for a few days didso astonishingly well that, as she laughingly said, "she began to growfrightened lest they were becoming too good to live. "

But she need not have been alarmed; the reaction was not long in comingand was sufficient to relieve all apprehension that they were in immediatedanger from an overplus of goodness. 

It began on the morning after Mr. Dinsmore's departure. Gertrude was lateto breakfast, and when reproved by her mother answered in a manner sodisrespectful as to quite astonish the young Travillas. They expected tosee her banished at once from the table and the room; but her mother onlylooked grave and said in a tone of displeasure, "Gertrude, I cannot haveyou speak to me in that way--Don't do it again. "

"I don't care; you needn't scold so about every little trifle then, "muttered the delinquent in an undertone, pulling the dish of meat towardher, helping herself and spilling the gravy on the clean tablecloth. 

Mrs. Ross did not seem to hear, she was spreading a piece of bread withthe sweetest and freshest of butter, for Sophie. 

"I don't want it, I want waffles!" screamed the child, snatching up thebread the instant it was laid on her plate, and dashing it on to thecarpet. 

"You are not well this morning, dear, and mamma thinks waffles might makeher darling worse, " said Lucy in a soothing tone. "Come now be a goodbaby, and eat the bread. Shall mamma spread another piece?"

"No, no, naughty mamma! I'll jus' frow it on the floor if you do, " criedthe child, bursting into angry sobs. 

"Shall mamma have some toast made for her?" (coaxingly). 

"No, no! waffles! and butter on waffles, and 'lasses on butter, and sugaron 'lasses!"

The mother laughed. It seemed to irritate the child still further; and shescreamed louder than ever, slid down from her chair and stamped her footwith rage. 

Mrs. Ross was deeply mortified at the exhibition. "Pick her up and carryher to the nursery, " she said to a servant. 

Sophie kicked and struggled, but the girl, --a strong and determinedone--carried her away by main force. 

"I'm dreadfully ashamed of her, Elsie, " Lucy said, turning to her friend;"but she's a nervous little creature and we must try to excuse her. "

"A few hearty slaps would reverse the nervous currents and do her animmense amount of good, Mrs. Ross, " remarked the governess in her slow, precise way. 

"Slaps, Miss Fisk, " returned Lucy reddening, "_I_ don't approve ofcorporal punishment, as _I_ have told you more than once. I was neverwhipped, and I don't intend that any of my children shall be. "

"Most assuredly not, madam; but I was recommending it not as a punishmentfor disobedience or ill temper, but simply as a remedial agent. I havenever experienced anything of the kind myself, Mrs. Ross, but have heardit remarked that nervousness occasions greater suffering than what isgenerally understood by the term pain; therefore I suggested it as Ishould the amputation of a diseased member when necessary in order topreserve life. "

"Permit me to remark, " returned Lucy, "that unmasked advice is seldomacceptable, and now a truce to discussion, if you please. My dear Elsie, "turning to Mrs. Travilla, "I beg you to excuse our ill-manners. Itstrikes me that none of us are behaving quite as we ought this morning. Hal and Archie, what's wrong between you now?" For the two boys, seatedside by side, were scowling at each other, and muttering angrily halfunder their breath. 

"Why, ma, he went and took the very piece of meat I just said I was goingto have, " whimpered Archie, digging his fists into his eyes. 

"Well, I don't care, " retorted Harry, "I'd as good a right as you, and Iwas ready first. "

"Give him a part of it, can't you?" said his mother. 

"'Tain't more'n I want myself. "

"I won't have it after it's been on his plate, " exclaimed both together. 

"Boys, I'm ashamed of you!" said Lucy, "I wish your father were here tokeep you straight. You don't dare behave so before him. I'm sure yourlittle friends would never act so. Don't you see how your naughtinessastonishes them? Vi, would you talk to your mamma as my children do tome?"

The large blue eyes opened wide upon the questioner in half incredulous, reproachful surprise, then turned upon the beautiful, gentle face of Mrs. Travilla with an expression of ardent affection mingled with admirationand respect. "O Aunt Lucy! could you b'lieve I'd do that to my mamma?"

The very thought of so wounding that tender mother heart was evidently sofull of pain to the little one, that Elsie could not refrain fromresponding to the appeal, "Mamma knows you would not, darling. "

"Oh, no, mamma, 'cause I love you!" cried the child, the young facegrowing bright with smiles. 

"Atmospheric influences have often a great deal to do with these things;do you not find it so?" Elsie said, turning to her friend. 

"Yes, I have noticed that!" Lucy said, catching gladly at the suggestion:"and the air is certainly unusually oppressive this morning. I feelnervous myself. I think we'll have a gust before night. "

The last words were spoken in an undertone, but the quick ear of Gertrudecaught them. "Then I shan't go to school, " she announced decidedly. 

"Nonsense, " said her mother, "'twon't be here till afternoon; probably nottill night, if at all. "

"Now, ma, you're just saying that. Aunt Elsie, do you really think itwon't come soon?"

Glancing through the open window at the mountains and the sky, Elsieanswered that she saw no present indications of a storm; there was nothingto betoken it but the heat and closeness of the air. 

"Are you afraid of thunder, Aunt Elsie?" asked Harry. 

"Lightning, you silly boy, " corrected Gertrude, "nobody's afraid ofthunder. "

"Yes, you are, " he retorted. "You just ought to see, Ed, how scared shegets, " and Harry laughed scornfully. 

Gertrude was ready with an indignant retort, but her mother stopped her. "If you are really brave, Gertrude, you can have an excellent opportunityto show it when the storm comes. " Then to Harry, "Let your sister alone, or I'll send you from the room. "

The gust, a very severe one, came in the afternoon. Before it was fairlyupon them, Lucy, herself pale with terror, had collected her children in adarkened room and seated them all on a feather-bed, where they remainedduring the storm, half stifled by the heat, the little ones clinging totheir mother, hiding their heads in her lap and crying with fear. 

Elsie and her children formed a different group; the mother the centralfigure here also, her darlings gathered closely about her, in herdressing-room--at a safe distance from the open windows--watching withawed delight, the bursting of the storm clouds over the mountain-tops, theplay of the lightning, the sweep of the rain down from the heights intothe valleys and river below, listening to the crash and roar of thethunder as it reverberated among the hills, one echo taking it up afteranother, and repeating it to the next, till it sounded like theexplosions of many batteries of heavy artillery, now near at hand, nowfarther and farther away. 

"Mamma, isn't it grand?" exclaimed Eddie, in one of the brief pauses inthe wild uproar of the elements. 

"Yes, " she said, "the thunder of his power who can understand?"

"Is it God, mamma? does God make it?" asked little Herbert. 

"Yes, dear; 'when he uttereth his voice, there is a multitude of waters inthe heavens, and he causeth the vapors to ascend from the ends of theearth; he maketh lightnings with rain, and bringeth forth the wind out ofhis treasuries. '"

"We needn't be 'f'aid, mamma?"

"No, darling, no; for God is our Father; He loves us and will take care ofus. "

The storm was very violent while it lasted, but soon passed away; the sunshone out, and a beautiful rainbow spanned the eastern sky above themountain-tops. 

Elsie's children clapped their hands in ecstasy, and ran to call theirlittle friends to enjoy the sight with them. Mrs. Ross followed, lookingso pale and exhausted, that Elsie inquired with concern if she were ill. 

"Oh, it was the storm!" she said, "wasn't it fearful? I was sure the housewould be struck and some of us killed. Weren't you frightened?"

"No, " Elsie said, with a kindly reassuring smile, "I presume my nerves arestronger than yours, and I am not naturally timid in regard to thunder andlightning. Besides, I know so well that he who guides and controls it ismy Father and my Friend. Come, look at his bow of promise. "

The children were in a group about the window, gazing and admiring. 

"Let's ask mamma for the story of it, " Vi was saying. 

"The story of it?" repeated Archie Ross. 

"Yes; don't you know? about Noah and the flood. "

"I never heard it. "

"Oh, Archie, it's in the Bible; grandma told it to us once, " exclaimed hissister Gertrude. 

"I didn't hear it, anyhow, " persisted the boy, "do, Vi, coax Aunt Elsie totell it. "

The petition was readily granted. Mrs. Travilla was an inimitablestory-teller, and Lucy, whose knowledge of Scripture history was butsuperficial, listened to the narrative with almost as much interest andpleasure as did the children. 

"I would give anything for your talent for story-telling, Elsie, " she saidat its conclusion. 

"Oh, another! another! Please tell us another?" cried a chorus of youngvoices. 

Mrs. Travilla drew out her watch, and holding it up with a smile, "Notjust now, my dears, " she said, "see it is almost tea-time, and, " sheadded playfully, "some of us have need to change our dresses and smoothour tangled tresses. "

"That is true, " said Lucy, rising hastily, "and I expect my husband home. I must send the carriage off at once to the depot; for the train is nearlydue. "

Thereupon a cry was raised among the Rosses as they flew after theirmother, "I want to go for papa!" "and I!" "It's my turn, I say, and I willgo!" "No, you shan't, for it's mine. "

CHAPTER FIFTH. 

 "She fed me first to God; Her words and prayers were my young spirit's dew. " --PIERPONT. 

"Hallo! this looks like welcome; every one of you been crying!" Mr. Rosssaid, catching up Sophie in his arms, and glancing about upon his group ofchildren, after an affectionate greeting to his wife, and a cordially kindone to their guest. 

"What's the trouble? so sorry papa was coming home, eh?"

"No, no, that wasn't it, papa, " they cried, crowding around him, eacheager to claim the first caress, "it wasn't that, but we wanted to go foryou, and mamma wouldn't let us. "

"Yes, " said Lucy, "they all wanted to go and as that couldn't be, and noone would give up to the others, I kept them all at home. "

"Quite right, " he said, gravely, "I'm afraid you hardly deserve the prettygifts I have brought. "

"Oh, yes, yes, papa, we'll be good next time! Indeed we will! Mamma, coaxhim!"

"Yes, do let them have them, Phil, " urged his wife, "where would be theuse of keeping the things back after spending your money for them?"

"To teach them a good lesson. I'm afraid both you and I are foolishlyindulgent, Lucy. "

"Oh, they'll be good next time. "

"This once then, but only this once, unless they keep their word, " hesaid, producing his gifts--a book or toy for each of his own children, anda package of sweetmeats which he divided among all present. 

He had brought a new dog home with him, but no one but Eddie had noticedit yet. He was stroking and patting it, saying, "Poor fellow, what kind ofa dog are you?"

"A French poodle, " said Mr. Ross, coming up to them, "A good watch dog, and excellent for scaring up the wild ducks for the sportsmen. Do you andpapa keep up the shooting lessons, master Eddie?"

"Yes, sir; papa has always said he meant to make me as good a shot ashimself, and mamma says it was never his way to give up till a thing'sthoroughly done, " returned the boy, proudly. 

"And you don't equal him as a shot yet, eh?"

"No, sir! no, indeed! Why, even cousin Cal Conly--a big man--can't shootas well as papa. "

"What an ugly dog!" exclaimed the other children, gathering round. 

"What did you buy it for, papa?" asked Gertrude. 

"Not for beauty, certainly, " laughed Mr. Ross, stroking and patting theshaggy head of the dog, who was covered with curly hair of a dirty white, mottled with dull brown, "but for worth which is far better. Isn't it, Ranger?"

A wag of his bushy tail, was Ranger's only reply. 

"Will he bite?" asked little Herbert, shrinking back as the newcomerturned toward him. 

"Tramps and burglars; but not good children, " replied Mr. Ross. "Youneedn't be afraid of him, my little man. "

Through the evening there was a great deal of romping between the childrenand the new dog, but little Elsie seemed unusually quiet, scarcelystirring from her mother's side. She was suffering with toothache, butkept her trouble to herself; principally, because she had a great dread ofthe dentist's instruments. 

But in the night the pain grew so severe that she could not keep fromcrying and groaning. She did not want to wake any one, so buried her facein the pillow to smother the sound of her sobs; but presently a gentlehand touched her caressingly, and mamma's sweet voice asked, "What ails mylittle daughter?"

"O mamma I did not mean to wake you!" cried the little girl sitting upwith her hand pressed to her cheek, "but the pain was so bad I couldn'thelp making a noise. "

"My poor dear little girl! did you think your mother would want to sleepwhen her child was in pain?" Elsie said, clasping her in her arms. "No, indeed! so do not try to bear any pain alone another time. "

Mamma's loving sympathy was very sweet; the pain was soon relieved, too, by some medicine she put into the tooth, and presently all was forgottenin sound refreshing sleep. 

Elsie came into her mamma's dressing-room the next morning, along with theothers, looking as bright and well as was her wont, yet with the bodingfear that something would be said to her about having the troublesometooth extracted. 

However to her relief the subject was not broached at all; they had theirusual reading and prayer, recitation of texts and talk with mamma aboutthe lessons contained in them, and then the breakfast bell summoned themto their morning meal. 

The tooth was quiet for a few days, then ached again for several hoursharder than ever. 

"O mamma, mamma, what shall I do?" sobbed the child in the midst of herpain. 

"Couldn't my little girl pluck up courage enough to have it out?" askedthe mother tenderly. 

"O mamma, don't say I must! please don't; I'm so frightened at the verythought!"

"Ah, if I could only bear it for you, my darling! but you know I cannot. "

"No, dear mamma, and I couldn't be so selfish as to let you, if you could. But must I have it out?"

"I have not said so; I should far rather my dear daughter would say mustto herself. "

"Ought I, mamma?"

"Ought you not? The tooth has become only a source of pain and trouble toyou; if left it will cause the others to decay, and decayed teeth injurethe health. Health is one of God's best gifts and it is our duty to useevery means in our power to preserve it. "

"Yes, mamma, but oh, I'm so afraid!" cried the child, trembling andweeping. 

"My darling, resolve to do your duty with God's help, and he will fulfillhis promise to you. 'As thy days so shall thy strength be. '"

Little Elsie had long ago given her heart to Jesus; love to him was theruling motive of her life, and to please and honor him she was ready to door endure anything. "I will try, mamma, " she said, "and you too will askGod to help me?"

Mamma gave the promise, sealing it with a very tender kiss. 

Mr. Ross was going down to New York the next morning, and it was soonarranged that his wife, Mrs. Travilla and little Elsie, should accompanyhim. 

Mrs. Ross had some shopping to do, but would first take the two Elsies toher dentist, so that the little girl's trial might be over as soon aspossible and she able to enjoy some sight-seeing afterward. Baby Lily wasbetter and could be safely entrusted for the day to Aunt Chloe's faithfulcare. 

The plan was concealed from the Ross children because, as their mothersaid, "it was the only way to have any peace. " So they were allowed tosleep until the travelers had taken an early breakfast and gone. 

The little Travillas, however, were up and saw the departure, bidding acheerful good-bye to "mamma and sister Elsie, " sending wistful, longinglooks after the carriage as it rolled away, but making no complaint thatthey were left behind. 

"Poor dear Elsie!" Vi said with tears in her eyes, "it's just dreadfulthat she must have that tooth extricated. "

"Extracted, " corrected Eddie. "Vi, you seem to forget what mammasays:--that you should never use a big word unless you are sure you haveit right; or when a little one would do as well. "

"What little one?"

"Pulled. "

"Couldn't it be pulled and not come out?"

"Well then you might say pulled out. "

"I like the other word best, " persisted Vi. "But we needn't be particularabout words when Elsie's going to be so dreadfully hurt. "

Herbert burst out crying at that. 

"Why Herbie what ails you?" asked Vi, putting her arms round his neck andgiving him a kiss. 

"I don't want the mans to hurt my Elsie, " sobbed the little fellow, "maybedey'll kill her. "

"Oh, no, they won't! mamma will never let them do that. They'll only takeaway the naughty tooth that hurts her so. "

"Come let's go and walk round the garden, " said Eddie, taking Herbie'shand, "mamma said we might. "

The breakfast bell called them in to find the Rosses making a perfectbedlam in their anger and disappointment at being left behind by theirparents. Sophie was screaming and stamping with rage, the boys and Katewere whimpering and scolding, and Gertrude walking about with flashingeyes, was saying "I'll never forgive mamma for this, no I never will; forshe'd promised to take me along next time she went to the city. "

Violet, Eddie, and Harold hearing these words, looked at each other inhorrified silence. "How could she speak so of her own mother?"

Miss Fisk came in, in her quiet, deliberate way and stood looking for amoment from one to another of her pupils in a sort of amazed, reprovingsilence that presently had the effect of quieting them down a little. Thenshe spoke. 

"Young ladies and young gentlemen, I am astonished! especially at yourexpressions and behavior, Miss Gertrude Ross. How you can permit yourselfto indulge in such invectives against parents so extremely indulgent asMr. And Mrs. Ross, I cannot conceive. "

Sophie whose screams had sunk to sobs, now permitted the servant to lifther to her high chair, Kate and the boys slunk shamefacedly into theirseats at the table, and Gertrude, muttering something about "people notkeeping their promises, " followed their example. 

"Come, sit down, my dears, " Miss Fisk said, turning to Violet and herbrothers; "the tempest seems to have nearly subsided and I hope will notresume its violence. "

Herbie was clinging to Vi in a frightened way, sobbing "I want mamma!" andHarold's eyes too were full of tears. It took coaxing and soothing torestore their equanimity and then the breakfast proceeded, everybodyseeming to grow brighter and more good humored with the satisfying of theappetite for food. 

Vi was a merry little creature, a veritable bit of sunshine wherever shewent, and under the influence of her bright looks and ways, sweet ripplinglaughter and amusing speeches, the whole party at length grew quite merry:especially after Miss Fisk had announced that there were to be no lessonsthat day but instead a picnic in the woods. 

CHAPTER SIXTH. 

 "By sports like these are all their cares beguil'd, The sports of children satisfy the child. " --GOLDSMITH. 

"Good! good!" cried the children. "Oh, delightful! But where are wegoing?"

"To the grove adjacent to the schoolhouse, " replied the governess. "Wecould not find a lovelier spot, and its proximity to the mansion rendersit most eligible. "

"'Proximity, eligible, adjacent;' what do you mean by those words, MissFisk?" asked Gertrude, a little contemptuously. 

"I desire you to consult one of our standard lexicographers. You will thenbe far more likely to retain the definitions in your memory, " returned thegoverness, ignoring the tone of her pupil. 

Gertrude shrugged her shoulders, with impatience, muttering audibly, "Iwish you'd talk like other people, and not like a dictionary. "

"You quarrel with my phraseology, because you do not understand it, "observed Miss Fisk, nonchalantly, "which is very irrational, since were Inever to employ, in conversing with you, words beyond your comprehension, you would lose the advantage of being induced to increase your stock ofinformation by a search for their meaning. "

"If that's what you do it for, you may as well give it up at once, "returned Gertrude, "for I don't care enough about your meaning to takehalf that trouble. "

"Miss Gertrude, permit me to remark that you are lacking in respect toyour instructress, " returned Miss Fisk, reddening. 

"Do you mean that it is convenient, because of being so near this house, Miss Fisk?" asked Eddie respectfully. 

"Yes, convenient and safe; on which account both Mrs. Travilla and Mrs. Ross stipulated that our picnic for to-day should be held there. "

"Well, let's go right away, " said Gertrude, jumping up and pushing backher chair. 

"Immediately, Miss Ross, " corrected the governess. "Right away isexceedingly inelegant. "

"How tiresome!" muttered Gertrude. Then aloud to Violet, as the governessleft the room, "I say, Vi, does your mamma reprove you for saying rightaway?"

"I don't remember that I ever said it. Mamma----"

"Said it?" interrupted Gertrude, with a twinkle of fun in her eye, "whydon't you say 'used the expression'? my dear, " mimicking Miss Fisk'stones, "you should never condescend to make use of a sixpenny word, when afifty cent one would express your sentiments fully as correctly, orperchance even more so. "

Vi could not help joining in the laugh with which Gertrude concluded, though feeling rather ashamed of herself, as she seemed to see the gravelook of disapproval mamma would have given her if present. 

"Oh, Gertrude, " she said, "we oughtn't to----"

"Yes, we ought, " returned Gertrude, as they ran out of the room together;"mamma always laughs when I take off old finikin Fisk. She wouldn't haveme talk like her for the world. Would your mamma wish you to?"

"No, but she never says----"

"Right away? No, of course not; she says 'immediately' or 'at once' orsomething that sounds nice. Well, so will I when I'm grown up. "

Miss Fisk was on the porch taking an observation of the weather, thechildren crowding about her, and clamoring to be allowed to set outimmediately for the grove. The day was fine, and there seemed everyindication that it would continue so. 

"Yes, " said the governess, "you may request your maids to see that you aresuitably arrayed for the occasion, and as promptly as possible, and wewill repair to the appointed place; taking our departure hence inprecisely thirty minutes. "

The children were ready and impatiently waiting, when Miss Fisk came downfrom her room, "suitably arrayed for the occasion. "

They set out at once, the whole party in high good humor, the boyscarrying their balls, marbles, and fishing rods, the girls their dolls anda set of toy dishes, to play tea-party with. Miss Fisk had a bit of fancywork and a book, and two servants brought up the rear with camp-chairs, anafghan and rugs to make a couch for the little ones when they should growsleepy. Luncheon was in course of preparation by the cook, and was to besent by the time the young picnickers were likely to feel an appetite forit. 

The boys took the lead, bounding on some distance ahead, with Ranger intheir midst. They were in no mood just then for sitting still, sodepositing their fishing tackle in the schoolhouse, went roving about insearch of more active amusement than that of catching trout. 

"That'll be good fun when we want to sit down and rest, " said Eddie. 

"Oh, I see a bird's nest, and I'm going to have it!" exclaimed Archie, beginning to climb a tree. 

"Oh don't, " cried Harold, "mamma says it's very cruel and wicked to robthe poor little birds. "

"Pooh! you're a baby!" answered Archie, half breathlessly, pulling himselfup higher and yet higher. "There, I'll have it in a minute, " reaching outhis hand to lay hold of the branch that held the nest. 

Ranger was barking loudly at the foot of the tree, Harry and Eddie werecalling to Archie to "Take care!" and he hardly knew how it was himself, but he missed the branch, lost his hold of the tree, and fell, lightingupon Ranger's back. 

The boy gave a scream, the dog a yelp, and the rest of the party camerunning to ask what was the matter. 

Archie picked himself up, looking quite crestfallen, and the fright of theothers was turned to laughter, as they discovered that he had received nodamage beyond a slight scratch on his hand and a rent in his jacket. 

Miss Fisk, making him promise not to repeat the experiment, went back toher seat under the trees and the book she had brought from the house forher own enjoyment. 

The morning passed without any further incident worth recording, thechildren amusing themselves with various quiet plays, the girls keepinghouse, each under her own particular tree, and exchanging visits; the boyscatching trout, which they sent to the house to be cooked for dinner. Theywanted to make a fire and cook them themselves, but Miss Fisk wiselyforbade it. 

She would have had the meal served in the schoolhouse, but yielded to theclamor for an out-door repast. Several desks were brought out into theshade of the trees, a dainty table-cloth spread over them and the partypresently sat down to a delightful collation, to which they brought keenappetites. 

Ranger had disappeared. They missed him as they were leaving the table. 

"Where can he have gone?" Harry was saying, when Vi cried out, "Oh yonderhe is! and he has a dear little bird in his mouth! Oh you wicked, crueldog!" And running to him she tried to take it from him. 

Be dropped it and snapped at her, Eddie jerking her back just in time tosave her from his teeth, while Archie, who was very fond of Vi, struck thedog a blow with a stick, crying furiously, "You just do that again, sir, and I'll kill you!"

Ranger then flew at him, but the boy avoided the attack by jumping nimblybehind a tree. 

The other children were screaming with fright, and a catastrophe appearedimminent, but one of the maids came running with some tempting morsels forRanger which appeased his wrath, and the danger was averted. 

Ranger's attention being absorbed with the satisfying of his appetite, thechildren now looked about for the bird. It was not quite dead, but soonbreathed its last in Vi's lap with her tears dropping fast upon it. 

"Oh don't, Vi!" said Archie, "I can't bear to see you feel so sorry. Andthe bird isn't being hurt now, you know; 'twon't ever be hurt any more;will it, Ed?"

"No, " said Harry, "we might as well let the dog have it. "

"No, no!" said Eddie, "it would just encourage him to catch another. "

"So it would, " said Gertrude, "let's make a grand funeral and bury it atthe foot of a tree. If we only knew now which one it used to live on. "

The motion was about to be carried by acclamation, but Vi entered adecided protest. "No, no, I want to keep it. "

"But you can't, Vi, " remonstrated Eddie, "dead things have to be buried, you know. "

"Not the skin and feathers, Eddie; they do stuff them sometimes and I'llask mamma to let me have this one done. "

"Oh what's the use?" expostulated Gertrude; "it's only a common robin. "

"But I love it; the poor dear little thing! and mamma will let me, I knowshe will, " returned Vi, wiping away her tears as though comforted by thevery thought. 

The other children wandered off to their play leaving her sitting whereshe was, on a fallen tree, fondling the bird; but Archie soon came backand seated himself by her side. 

"Such a pity; isn't it?" he said, "I hate that Ranger, don't you, Vi?"

"No-o I hope not, Archie, " she answered doubtfully: "folks kill birds toeat them and may be 'tain't any worse for dogs, " she added, with a freshburst of tears. "Poor little birdie; and may be there are some young onesin the nest that have no mamma now to feed or care for them. "

"That old Ranger! and he snapped at you too. Here he comes again. I'llkill him!" cried the boy, with vehemence. "Oh no, I know what I'll do!Here Ranger! here Ranger!" and starting up he rushed away in a directionto take him farther from the schoolhouse and the rest of his party. 

He had spied in the distance a farmer's boy, a lad of fourteen, with whomhe had some slight acquaintance. "Hallo, Jared Bates!" he shouted. 

"Well, what's wantin'?" and Jared stood still, drawing the lash of hiscarter's whip slowly between his fingers. "Hurry up now, for I've got togo back to my team. Whose dog's that?" as Ranger came running up andsaluted him with a sharp, "Bow, wow, wow!"

"Ours, " said Archie, "and I'm mad at him 'cause he killed a bird and triedto bite Vi Travilla, when she went to take it from him. "

"Like enough, " returned Jared, grinning. "But what about it?"

"I thought may be you'd like to have him. "

"So I would, what'll you sell him for?"

"Ten cents. "

"I hain't got but two. "

"Haven't you, Jared? truly, now?"

"No, nary red, 'cept them, " and diving into his pantaloons' pocket, Jaredproduced a handful of odds and ends--a broken knife, a plug of tobacco, some rusty nails, a bit of twine, etc. , --from which he picked out twonickels. "There, them's um, and they's all I got in the world, " he saidgravely, passing them over to Archie. 

"Well, it's very cheap, " observed the latter, pocketing the cash, "but youcan have him. Good-bye, " and away he ran back to the spot where he hadleft Vi. 

"You're a green 'un!" laughed Jared, looking after him; then whistling tothe dog to follow, he went on his way. 

CHAPTER SEVENTH. 

 "But this I say, he which soweth sparingly shall reap also sparingly; and he which soweth bountifully shall reap also bountifully. "

 --2 COR. Ix. 6. 

All the children, Gertrude excepted, were gathered on the front porch, Viwith the dead bird in her hands, when the carriage drove up with thereturning travelers. 

There was a glad chorus of welcome, and most of the young faces werebright and happy. Elsie's troop had nothing but smiles, caresses andloving words for her, and tender, anxious inquiries about "Sister Elsie;if the tooth were out?" "if the dentist hurt her much?"

"It was hard to bear, " she said, "but the doctor was very kind, and triednot to hurt her. And, oh, mamma had made her such a lovely present, forbeing brave and willing to have her tooth out. " And she took a beautifullittle gold watch and chain from her bosom, and held them up to theiradmiring gaze. 

"Oh, I'm so glad, so glad! Dear mamma, how good of you!" cried Vi, withouta touch of envy embracing first her sister, and then her mother. 

Eddie and the two younger ones seemed equally pleased, and "sister Elsie"allowed each in turn to closely inspect, her treasure. 

In the meantime, Mr. And Mrs. Ross had been busy bestowing caresses andsmall gifts upon their children, who received them with noisy glee mingledwith some reproaches because they had been left at home. 

"Come, come, no complaints, " said their father; "I think you have faredwell;--a holiday, a picnic, and these pretty presents. Where's Gertrude?"

"Sure enough, where is she?" asked Lucy, looking round from one toanother. 

"She's mad because you did not take her along, " remarked Harry, "she saysyou didn't keep your promise. "

"Dear me, I'd forgotten all about it!" exclaimed Mrs. Ross. "I should havetaken her though, but there wasn't time to get her up and dressed. "

"Gertrude! Gertrude!" called Mr. Ross, in tones of authority, "Gertrude, come here and show yourself. "

At that the child came slowly out from the hall--whence she had beenwatching the scene through the crack behind the door--looking red andangry. 

"What's the matter with you?" asked her father, with some displeasure inhis tones. 

"Nothing, I'm not crying. "

"Nor pouting either, I suppose? What's it all about. "

"Mamma promised to take me along the next time she went to the city. "

"Perhaps she will the next time. "

"But this was the next time, because she promised it when she went beforeand took Kate. "

"Well, such promises are always conditional; she took no one this time(but me), and there was a good reason why. "

Gertrude smiled slightly, then laughed outright, as she glanced up intohis face, saying, "I thought it was you, papa, that took mamma. "

"Oh! now, you begin to look something like the little girl I'm used tohearing called Gertrude Ross; the one I like to buy presents for; theother one that was here just a moment ago, gets nothing bought with mymoney. "

"See here, " said her mother, and with a cry of delight Gertrude sprangforward and caught from her hand a watch and chain very nearly thecounterparts of those little Elsie was displaying to her sister andbrothers. 

"Oh, joy, joy!" she cried, dancing up and down, "thank you, mamma! Thankyou, papa! I'd rather have this than a dozen visits to New York. See, Kate, isn't it a beauty?"

"Yes, " returned her sister sullenly; "but I don't see why you should havea watch and I only this ring; you're hardly more than a year older than Iam and not a bit better girl"

"Come, come, don't pout, Kitty, " said her father, stroking her hair;"your time will come. Harry's and Archie's too, and even little Sophie's, "he added, catching the household pet up in his arms, to give her a hug andkiss. 

It was not until after tea that Mr. Ross missed his dog. "Where's Ranger?"he asked of one of the servants. 

"Dade, sir, I don't know, " she answered. "Sure he went to the picnic widthe rest of the childer, an' it's meself as hasn't seen him since. "

"Harry, " stepping out on the porch where the children, except the verylittle ones, who had already been sent up to bed, were sitting listlesslyabout, too weary with the day's sports to care for anymore activeamusement, "where's Ranger?"

"Ranger?" cried Harry with a start, "why sure enough, I haven't seen himsince he came home! and I don't think he came with us either. "

"No, he didn't, " said several young voices. 

"I wonder where he can be, " pursued Harry. "Shall I go and look for him, papa?"

Mr. Ross was about to say yes, when his eye fell upon the face of hisyoungest son who, he noticed, looked very red and somewhat troubled. "Whatdo you know about it, Archie?" he asked; "can you tell us what has becomeof Ranger?"

"He behaved very bad indeed, papa, " stammered the boy; "he killed a dearlittle bird and tried to bite Vi, and me too--and I sold him. "

The truth was out and Archie heaved a sigh of relief. 

"Sold him?" repeated his father in a tone of mingled surprise anddispleasure. 

"Yes, sir: to Jared Bates, for two cents. Here they are: I s'pose theybelong to you, " said the little fellow tugging at his pocket. 

"For two cents!" exclaimed Mr. Ross laughing in spite of himself. "You'llnever grow rich, my boy, making such bargains as that. But see here, " headded, growing grave again, "whose dog was it?"

"I--I thought it was ours, papa. "

"Ours? Yours to play with, but only mine to sell or give away. You'll haveto go to Jared to-morrow, return his two cents, and tell him the dog ismine, and you sold what did not belong to you. "

"Oh where's my bird?" cried Violet, reminded of it by this little episode. "I laid it down to look at Elsie's watch, and oh it's gone! Mamma, mamma, I'm so sorry!"

"I am too, dear, for your sake, " the mother said, putting an arm about herand kissing the wet cheek, for the tears had begun to flow again. "Was itthe bird Ranger killed?"

"Yes, mamma, I was going to ask you to get it stuffed for me. "

"Some cat has got it, no doubt, " said Mr. Ross. "But don't cry: itcouldn't hurt it, you know, after it was dead. "

"If it only had a heaven to go to, " sobbed Vi

"Perhaps it has, " said the gentleman kindly. "I really don't think, "turning to Mrs. Travilla, "that the Bible says anything to the contrary;it seems to me to simply leave the matter in doubt. "

"I know, " she answered thoughtfully, "that it is the generally acceptedbelief that there is no hereafter for the lower animals; yet it hasoccurred to me, too, that the Bible does not positively assert it; andsome of the poor creatures have such a suffering life in this world thatit makes my heart ache to think there is no other for them"

"Papa, " asked Archie, "don't you think Ranger deserved to be sold forkilling that bird and trying to bite Vi?"

"That's a question you should have propounded before selling him, that andanother; 'May I sell him. '"

"I wish you'd let Phelim go and buy him back, " remarked the boy, lookingvery uncomfortable at the thought of having to do the errand himself. 

"No, sir, " returned the father decidedly, "the mischief you have done youmust undo yourself. Ah, Harry, go and ask if any letters came to-day. "

"I asked, " said Gertrude. "There was just one; from Phil, " and she drew itfrom her pocket and handed it to her father. 

"What does he say?" Mrs. Ross inquired when he had glanced over it. 

"Not much, except that he's to be here to-morrow, and wants the carriagesent to the depot for him, " he answered, handing it to her. 

"Good!" said Gertrude, with much satisfaction. "We always have more funwhen Phil's at home. "

"Except when he picks a quarrel with you or some of us, " remarked Harry. 

"For shame, Hal!" said his mother. "The quarrels, if there are any, are aslikely to be begun by you, as any one else. "

Lucy was proud and fond of her first-born, and always ready to shield himfrom blame. He was in his mother's eyes as the king, who could do nowrong, but to others a spoiled child, a wilful, headstrong, domineeringboy. 

Yet he was not without his good qualities, brave, frank, affectionate, andgenerous to a fault, many hearts besides those of his doting parents weredrawn to him in sincere affection; Elsie's among the rest; yet she dreadedexposing her little sons to Phil's influence; Edward especially as nearerPhil's age, and because, though much improved by good training, hisnatural disposition was very similar. But she had not seen Philip for twoyears, and hoped he might have changed for the better. 

It seemed so at first. He was a bright, handsome youth, and came home infine spirits, and with a manner full of affection for parents, brothersand sisters. She did not wonder at Lucy's fond pride in her eldest son. 

"Phil, " said his mother, following him into his room that night, "you havemade a good impression, and I'm very anxious you shouldn't spoil it; so dotry to keep on your good behavior while the Travillas stay. "

"I intend to, Mrs. Ross, " he returned, with a laugh. Elsie, little Elsie'sbeen my little lady love since the first time my eyes lighted on her, andI know that if I want to secure the prize, I've got to keep on the rightside of her father and mother. "

Lucy laughed. "You are beginning early, Phil, " she said. "I advise you notto say a word of your hopes in their hearing, for ten years to come. "

"Trust me for managing the thing, ma, " he returned, nodding his headwisely. "But do you s'pose now, they'd be so outrageously unreasonable asto expect a fellow to be quite perfect?" he queried, striking a match andlighting a cigar. 

"Phil! Phil! throw that away!" she said, trying to snatch it from him. 

He sprang nimbly aside, "No, you don't, ma! Why shouldn't I smoke as wellas my father? Ministers smoke too, and lots of good people. "

"But you're too young to begin yet, and I know your Aunt Elsie would behorrified. She'd think you a very fast boy and hurry away with herchildren, lest they should be contaminated by your bad example. "

"Well, " he answered, puffing away, "I'll not let her or them know I everindulge. I'll only smoke up here and at night, and the smell will be alloff my breath by morning. "

"I wish you'd give it up entirely. Where did you ever learn it?"

"Comes natural; guess I inherited the taste. But nearly all the fellows atschool do it--on the sly. "

"Ah, Phil, I'm afraid you're a sad fellow!" Lucy said, shaking her headreprovingly; but he could see the smile shining in her fond, admiringeyes, and lurking about the corners of her mouth. 

"Oh, come now, ma, I'm not so bad; not the worst fellow in the world. Iwouldn't do a mean thing. "

"No, of course not, " she said, kissing him good-night, and leaving himwith a parting, "Don't forget to say your prayers, Phil. "

Mr. And Mrs. Ross were not Christian parents; careful and solicitous aboutthe temporal welfare of their children, they gave little thought to theirspiritual needs. Lucy taught them, in their infancy, to say their prayersbefore lying down to rest at night, as they grew older sent them toSunday-school, took them to church on pleasant Sabbath mornings, when itwas convenient, and she felt inclined to go herself, and provided eachone with a copy of the Bible. 

This was about the extent of the religious training they received; and itwas strongly counteracted by the worldly atmosphere of their home, theworldly example set them by their parents, and the worldly maxims andprecepts constantly instilled into their young minds. 

From these, they learned to look upon the riches, honors and pleasures ofearth as the things to be most earnestly coveted, most worthy of untiringefforts to secure. 

Life at the Crags was a strange puzzle to the Ion children: no blessingasked at the table, no gathering of the family morning or evening forprayer or praise or the reading of God's word. 

"Mamma, what does it mean?" they asked; "why doesn't Uncle Ross do as papadoes?"

Elsie scarce knew how to answer them. "Don't let us talk about it, dears, "she said: "but whatever others may do, let us serve God ourselves and seekhis favor above everything else; for 'in his favor is life' and his lovingkindness is better than life. "

CHAPTER EIGHTH. 

 "To each his sufferings: all are men Condemn'd alike to groan; The tender for another's pain, The unfeeling for his own. " --GRAY. 

The weather was delightful: because of Phil's return the children wereexcused altogether from lessons and nearly every day was taken up withpicnics, riding, driving and boating excursions up and down the river. 

They were never allowed to go alone on the water or behind any horse but"Old Nan, " an old slow moving creature that Phil said "could not bepersuaded or forced out of a quiet even trot that was little better than awalk, for five consecutive minutes. "

The mothers were generally of the party;--Lily continuing so much betterthat Elsie could leave her, without anxiety, in the faithful care of herold mammy--and always one or two trusty servants were taken along. 

One day Philip got permission to take old Nan and the phaeton and driveout with the two older girls, Gertrude and Elsie. 

They were gone several hours and on their return, while still some milesfrom home were overtaken by a heavy shower, from which they took refuge ina small log-house standing a few yards back from the road. 

It was a rude structure built in a wild spot among the rocks and trees, and evidently the abode of pinching poverty; but everything was clean andneat, and the occupants, an elderly woman reclining in a high-backedwooden rocking-chair with her feet propped up on a rude bench, and a younggirl who sat sewing by a window overlooking the road, wore an air ofrefinement, and spoke English more correctly and with a purer accent thansometimes is heard in the abodes of wealth and fashion. 

The door stood wide open and the moment Philip drew rein, the girl at thewindow called to them to come in out of the wet, and directed the lad toshelter his horse and phaeton underneath a shed at the side of the house. 

Gertrude ran lightly in with a laugh and jest, Elsie following close ather heels. 

The girl rose and setting out two unpainted wooden chairs, invited them tobe seated, remarking as she resumed her work, that the shower had come upvery suddenly, but she hoped they were not wet. 

"Not enough to hurt us, " said Gertrude. 

"Hardly at all, thank you, " I said Elsie. "I hope our mammas will not bealarmed about us, Gerty. "

"I don't think they need be so long as there's no thunder and lightning, "answered Gertrude. "Ah, see how it is pouring over yonder on the mountain, Elsie!"

The pale face of the woman in the rocking-chair, evidently an invalid, hadgrown still paler and her features worked with emotion. 

"Child! child!" she cried, fixing her wild eyes on Elsie, "who--who areyou?"

"They're the young ladies from the Crags, mother, " said the girlsoothingly. 

"I know that, Sally, " she answered peevishly, "but one's a visitor, andthe other one called her Elsie, she's just the age and very imageof--child, what is your family name?"

"Travilla, madam, " the little girl replied, with a look of surprise. 

"Oh, you're her daughter; yes, of course I might have known it. And so shemarried him, her father's friend and so many years older. "

The words were spoken as if to herself and she finished with a deep drawnsigh. 

This woman had loved Travilla--all unsuspected by him, for he was not aconceited man--and there had been a time when she would have almost givenher hopes of heaven for a return of her affection. 

"Is it my mother you mean? did you know her when she was a little girl?"asked Elsie, rising and drawing near the woman's chair. 

"Yes; if she was Elsie Dinsmore, and lived at Roselands--how many yearsago? let me see; it was a good many; long before I was married to JohnGibson. "

"That was mamma's name and that was where she lived; with her grandpa, while her papa was away in Europe so many years, " returned the littleElsie; then asked with eager interest, "But how did you happen to knowher? did you live near Roselands?"

"I lived there; but I was a person of no consequence; only a poorgoverness, " remarked the woman in a bitter tone; an expression of angrydiscontent settling down upon her features. 

"Are you Miss Day?" asked Elsie, retreating a step or two with a look asif she had seen a serpent. 

Her mother had seldom mentioned Miss Day to her, but from her AuntsAdelaide and Lora she had heard of her many acts of cruelty and injusticeto the little motherless girl committed to her care. 

"I was Miss Day; I'm Mrs. Gibson now. I was a little hard on your mothersometimes, as I see you've been told; but I'd a great deal to bear; forthey were a proud, haughty family--those Dinsmores. I was not treated asone of themselves, but as a sort of upper servant, though a lady bybirth, breeding and education, " the woman remarked, her tone growing moreand more bitter as she proceeded. 

"But was it right? was it just and generous to vent your anger upon a poorlittle innocent girl who had no mother and no father there to defend her?"asked the child, her soft eyes rilling with tears. 

"Well maybe not; but it's the way people generally do. Your mother was agood little thing, provokingly good sometimes; pretty too, and heiress, they said, to an immense fortune. Is she rich still? or did she lose itall by the war?"

"She did not lose it all, I know, " said Elsie, "but how rich she is I donot know; mamma and papa seldom talk of any but the true riches. "

"Just like her, for all the world!" muttered the woman. Then aloud andsneeringly, "Pray what do you mean by the true riches?"

"Those which can never be taken from us; treasure laid up in heaven whereneither moth nor rust doth corrupt and thieves break not through tosteal. "

The sweet child voice ceased and silence reigned in the room for a moment, while the splashing of the rain upon the roof could be distinctly heard. 

Mrs. Gibson was the first to speak again. "Well I'd like to have thatkind, but I'd like wonderfully well to try the other a while first. "

Elsie looked at the thin, sallow face with its hollow cheeks and sunkeneyes, and wished mamma were there to talk of Jesus to this poor woman, whosurely had but little time to prepare for another world. 

"Is your mother at the Crags?" asked Mrs. Gibson turning to her again. 

Elsie answered in the affirmative, adding that they had been there forsome time and would probably remain a week or two longer. 

"Do you think she would be willing to come here to see me?" was the nextquestion, almost eagerly put. 

"Mamma is very kind and I am sure she will come if you wish to see her, "answered the child. 

"Then tell her I do; tell her I, her old governess, am sick and poor andin great trouble. "

Tears rolled down her cheeks and for a moment her eyes rested upon herdaughter's face with an expression of keen anguish. "She's going blind, "she whispered in Elsie's ear, drawing the child toward her, and nodding inthe direction of Sally, stitching away at the window. 

"Blind! oh how dreadful!" exclaimed the little girl in low moved tones, the tears springing to her eyes. "I wish she could go to Doctor Thomson. "

"Doctor Thomson! who is he?"

"An oculist: he lives in Philadelphia. A friend of mamma's had somethinggrowing over her eyes so that she was nearly blind, and he cut it off andshe can see now as well as anybody. "

"I don't think that is the trouble with Sally's; though of course I can'ttell. But she's always had poor sight, and now that she has to support thefamily with her needle, her eyes are nearly worn out. "

Sally had been for several minutes making vain attempts to thread aneedle. 

Elsie sprang to her side with a kindly, eager, "Let me do it, won't you?"

It was done in a trice and the girl thanked her with lips and eyes. 

"It often takes me full five or ten minutes, " she said, "and sometimes Ihave to get mother to do it for me. "

"What a pity! it must be a great hindrance to your work. "

"Yes, indeed, and my eyes ache so that I can seldom sew or read for morethan an hour or two at a time. Ah, I'm afraid I'm going to lose my sightaltogether. "

The tone was inexpressibly mournful, and Elsie's eyes filled again. 

"Don't fret about it, " she said, "I think--I hope you can be cured. "

The rain had nearly ceased, and Philip, saying the worst was over, andthey were in danger of being late at dinner, hurried the girls into thephaeton. 

"What was that woman whispering to you?" asked Gertrude, as soon as theywere fairly off. 

Elsie looked uncomfortable. "It was something I was to tell mamma, " shereplied. 

"But what is it?"

"I'm afraid she wanted to keep it a secret from you, Gerty, or she wouldhave spoken out loud. "

"I think you're very mean and disobliging, " retorted Gertrude, beginningto pout. 

"No, she isn't, " said Philip pompously, "she's honorable, and one of thefew females who can keep a secret. But I overheard it, Elsie, and feelpretty sure that the reason she whispered it, was to keep the poor girlfrom hearing. It's very natural she shouldn't want her to know she'safraid her sight's leaving her. "

"Oh, yes; I suppose that was it!" returned Elsie. "But you were very wiseto think of it, Phil. "

"Don't flatter him, " said Gertrude; "he thinks a great deal too much ofhimself, already. "

Dinner was just ready when they reached home, and their mammas were on theporch looking for them. 

"So there you are at last! what detained you so long?" said Mrs. Ross. 

"Went further than we intended; and then the rain, you know, " saidPhilip. 

"And, oh, we had an adventure!" cried the girls, and hastened to tell it. 

Mrs. Travilla had not forgotten her old governess, and though no pleasantrecollection of her lingered in her memory, neither was there any dislikeor revengeful feeling there. She heard of her sorrows with commiserationand rejoiced in the ability to alleviate them. 

"That Mrs. Gibson!" exclaimed Lucy, "I've seen her many a time at the dooror window, in driving past, and have often thought there was somethingfamiliar in her face, but never dreamed who she was. That hateful MissDay! as I used to call her; Elsie, I wouldn't do a thing for her, if Iwere you. Why she treated you with absolute cruelty. "

"She was sometimes unjust and unkind, " said Mrs. Travilla, smiling at herfriend's vehemence, "but probably my sensitiveness, timidity andstupidity, were often very trying. "

"No such thing!--if you will excuse me for contradicting you--everybodythat knew you then, would testify that you were the sweetest, dearest, most patient, industrious little thing that ever was made. "

Elsie laughed and shook her head, "Ah, Lucy, you always flattered me;never were jealous even when I was held up to you as a pattern an evidencethat yours was a remarkably sweet disposition. Now, tell me, please, ifyou know anything about these Gibsons?"

"Not much; they came to that hut years ago, evidently very poor, and quiteas evidently--so report says--having seen better days. The husband andfather drank deeply, and the wife earned a scanty support for the familyby sewing and knitting; that is about all I know of them, except thatseveral of their children died of scarlet fever within a few days of eachother, soon after they came to the neighborhood, and that a year ago lastwinter, the man, coming home very drunk, fell into a snow-drift, and nextday was found frozen to death. I was told at that time they had only twochildren--a son who was following in his father's footsteps, and thisdaughter. "

"Poor woman!" sighed Elsie, "she is sorely tried and afflicted. I must goto her at once. "

"Do, mamma, and get a doctor for her, " said little Elsie; "she looked sosick and miserable. "

Mrs. Ross offered her carriage, and the shower having cooled the air, Elsie went, shortly after the conclusion of the meal. 

CHAPTER NINTH. 

 "I'll not chide thee; Let shame come when it will, I do not call it. " --SHAKESPEARE. 

"I never saw such a likeness in my life!" said Mrs. Gibson looking afterthe phaeton as it drove away; "she's the very image of her mother. I couldjust have believed it was the very little Elsie Dinsmore I used to teachmore than twenty years ago. "

"She's lovely!" exclaimed Sally with enthusiasm. "Mother, did you see whata pretty watch she had?"

"Yes, " gloomily; "some folks seem to have nothing but prosperity, andothers nothing but poverty and losses and crosses. They're as rich asCroesus and we have hardly enough to keep us from starving. "

"Better times may come, " said Sally, trying to speak hopefully, "Tom mayreform and go to work. I do think, mother, if you'd try to----"

"Hush! I'm a great deal better to him than he deserves. "

It was some moments before Sally spoke again, then it was only to ask, "Will you have your dinner now, mother?"

"No; there's nothing in the house but bread and potatoes, and I couldn'tswallow either. Dear me what a table they used to set at Roselands! enoughto tempt the appetite of an epicure. "

"I must rest my eyes a little. I can't see any longer, " said the girl, laying down her work and going to the door. 

"It's just dreadful, " sighed her mother, "but don't get out of heart;these people will help us and it is possible some skilful oculist mayunderstand your case and be able to help you. "

The girl's eyes were fixed upon the distant mountain-tops where, through arift in the clouds the sun shone suddenly out for a moment. "'I will liftup mine eyes unto the hills whence cometh my help, '" she murmured softlyto herself. Then from a full heart went up a strong cry, "O God, myFather, save me, I beseech thee, from this bitter trial that I so dread!Nevertheless not as I will, but as thou wilt. Oh, help me to be contentwith whatsoever thou shalt send!"

"Sally, you're standing there a long time. " It was the mother's querulousvoice again. 

The girl turned toward her, answering in a patient tone. "Yes, mother, itrests my eyes to look at the sky and the mountains or any distant object. "

"You'd better get yourself something to eat. It must be six or eight hoursat least since breakfast. "

An hour later Sally, again busied with her sewing, by the window, liftedher head at the sound of wheels and exclaimed in a low tone, "There is thesame carriage again! It has stopped and a lady is getting out of it. "

But turning her head she perceived that her mother, who was now lying onthe bed, had fallen asleep. Dropping her work, she stepped quickly to thedoor in time to prevent a rap. 

She recognized the lady at once from her likeness to her namesakedaughter, and holding out her hand with a joyful admiring smile said, "Mrs. Travilla, is it not? Thank you for coming. I am so glad, and motherwill be so delighted to see you; but she is sleeping just now. "

She had spoken softly, and Elsie answered in the same subdued tone, as shetook the offered hand, then stepped in and sat down in a chair the girlhastened to set for her, "That is well; we must not wake her. "

A long talk followed in which Elsie by her ready tact and sweet sympathy, free from the slightest approach to patronage, drew from the girl thestory of their sorrows, privations and fears for the future. 

Her mother had been gradually failing for some time, though she really didnot know what was the nature of the disease. For a while they hadcontrived by their united efforts to make the two ends meet, but now thatall depended upon her, with her poor sight, it was no longer possible. 

"How are your eyes affected?" asked Elsie. 

"The sight is dim; I can scarcely see to set my stitches: I have greatdifficulty in threading a needle: I always had. I could never read fineprint, never read through a long sentence without shutting my eyes for aninstant or looking off the book. It has always been an effort to see, andnow I am forced to use my eyes so constantly they grow worse and pain mevery much. At times a mist comes over them so that I cannot see at alluntil I rest them a little. Indeed I often seem to be going blind and I'mafraid I shall, " she added, with a tremble in her tones, a tear rollingdown her cheek. But she hastily wiped it away. 

"My poor child, I hope not, " Elsie said, laying a hand softly on hers;"there have been wonderful cures of diseased eyes. You must go to anoculist. "

"The expense would be far beyond our means. "

"You must let me assume that. No, don't shake your head. I have abundantmeans. The Lord has given me far more of this world's goods than I oughtto use for myself or my family and I know it is because he would have mebe his almoner. "

The girl wept for joy and thankfulness. 

"Oh, how kind you are!" she cried. "I believe the Lord sent you and thatmy sight will be spared; for I have prayed so that it might;--that hewould send me help somehow. But mother, how can she do without me?"

"I will see that she has medical advice, nursing, everything she needs. "

Sally tried to speak her thanks but tears and sobs came instead. 

The sound woke Mrs. Gibson. "Elsie Dinsmore!" she cried in feeble butexcited tones, with difficulty raising herself to a sitting posture. "Ishould have known you anywhere. "

"I cannot say the same; you are much changed, " Elsie said, going to thebedside and taking the thin feverish hand in hers. 

"Yes, I've grown an old woman, while you are fresh and young; and nowonder, for your life has been all prosperity; mine nothing but troubleand trial from beginning to end. "

"O, mother dear, we have had a great many mercies, " said Sally; "and yourlife is not ended. I hope your good times are yet to come. "

"Well, maybe so, if Mrs. Travilla can help us to the medical aid we need, and put us in the way of earning a good living afterward. "

"I shall do my best for you in both respects, " Elsie said kindly, accepting a chair Sally set for her near the bed. 

"I knew you would; you were always generous, " remarked her ci-devantgoverness; "prompt too in bestowing your favors. But it is easy to begenerous with a large and well-filled purse. "

"Very true, " Elsie answered with a smile. "And now what can I do for you?Ah I had forgotten. Mrs. Ross, hearing you were ill, and knowing that tothe sick something sent by a neighbor was often more relished than homefood, however nice, put a basket of dainties into the phaeton. "

Stepping to the door, she signed to the servant, who immediately broughtin a hamper of provisions such as had not been seen under that roof formany months. Mrs. Gibson's eyes glistened at sight of a basket of finefresh fruit and a bowl of delicious custard. 

"I will go now and call again to-morrow, " Elsie said, as the man carriedaway the empty hamper. 

Grasping Sally's hand cordially in parting, she left something in it. 

"Mother!" cried the girl, breathlessly, holding it up to view, "it's acheck for a hundred dollars!"

"'Tisn't possible! let me see!" cried Mrs. Gibson laying down the spoonwith which she was eating raspberries and custard, and holding out herhand for the check. 

"Yes, so it is! what a godsend! I didn't think even she was so generous. But dear me, she's rolling in wealth, and it's no more to her, or even asmuch as ten cents would be to you or me. "

"Oh, mother!" said Sally, reproachfully, "we have no claim on her; and ifshe has a good deal of money, she must have hundreds of calls for it. "

"No claim on her? why people take care of old servants, and a governessought to be considered of a good deal more account. "

"Tom mustn't know about this, mother. "

"No, indeed! the greater part of it would soon go for liquor or at thegambling table, if he did. Here give it to me, and I'll hide it under mypillow. "

The saucer of berries was scarcely disposed of, before a second visitorarrived. 

Dr. Morton was considered the most skilful practitioner in theneighborhood. Mrs. Travilla meeting him on the way in returning to theCrags, had begged him to take charge of Mrs. Gibson's case, and also tolook at Sally's eyes; engaging to settle his bill herself. 

On his way home he called at the Crags with his report. The mother, hesaid, was very much out of health, but not incurable; he had promised tosend her some medicine. A month or two at the seashore would do her good;perhaps restore her entirely. "

"Then she must go, " said Elsie, "I will at once see what arrangements canbe made. But now, what of the girl, doctor?"

"She seems in pretty good health. "

"But her eyes?"

"The nerve is affected; there is no help for her. "

"Are you quite sure?"

"Quite. I have paid a good deal of attention to the eye, and I assure youa case like hers is incurable. "

"Then you decline to attempt to do anything for her?"

"I do, Mrs. Travilla, because there is absolutely nothing to be done. "

"Poor girl, how sorry I am for her! blindness must be so terrible, " Lucyremarked to her friend after the doctor had gone. 

"Yes, " Elsie answered thoughtfully, "but I do not give up hope for heryet. "

"Dr. Morton is considered very skilful. "

"Still he may be mistaken, and I shall not rest till I have made everyeffort to save her sight. "

Little Elsie and her sister had already become deeply interested in poorSally, and were laying plans to help her. 

"What can we do, Elsie?" queried Vi, in an under tone, drawing her sisteraside. 

"She'll want clothes; she had on a very old faded calico dress. "

"And not a bow or pin; just an old linen collar around her neck, " remarkedGertrude, joining them; "and her dress was ever so old-fashioned andpatched besides. "

"Let's put our pocket money together, and buy her a new dress, " proposedVi. 

"And make it for her, " added Elsie; "it hurts her eyes to sew, and youknow Dinah could fit it. Mamma had her taught the trade, and says she fitsand sews very nicely. "

"Oh, what's the use of giving our money?" exclaimed Gertrude, impatiently. "We want it ourselves, and your mamma has such loads and loads of money;hasn't she, Eddie?" turning to him, as he stood near. 

"I don't know, " he answered; "she never told us she had; she never talksmuch about money, except to tell us it all belongs to God, who only lendsit to us. "

"And that we must give it to the poor and needy, " said Vi. 

"Because 'it is more blessed to give than to receive, '" added Elsie. 

"Well, I know she has, " persisted Gertrude, "for my mamma often says so, and I'm sure she knows. "

"But even if she has, mamma's money is not ours, and it's a duty and avery great pleasure to give of our own. "

"Every one to their taste, I haven't a bit more money than I want myself, "said Gertrude, walking away with her chin in the air. 

"Gerty, " said Elsie, running after her, "don't be vexed; we weren'tmeaning to ask you for anything; but only talking about our own duty. "

"Oh, I can take a hint as well as other folks, " said Gertrude, tossing herhead. 

"What's it all about?" asked Kate, coming up to them; but they paid noheed to her, and she went to Vi for the desired information. 

"Why, I'll help, of course I will, " she said; "I guess I've got somemoney, I'll look after tea; there's the bell now. "

Elsie seized an opportunity to petition her mother for a longer talk thanusual in her dressing-room that evening, and the most of it was taken upin the discussion and arranging of plans for helping Mrs. Gibson and herdaughter. 

"What an unconscionable time you've been upstairs, Elsie, " Philip remarkedin a bantering tone, coming to her side as she and her mother returned tothe drawing-room. "I've been dying to speak to you, as the girls say. "

"All girls don't talk so, Phil. "

"You don't, I know. Would you like a gallop before breakfast to-morrowmorning?"

"Yes, indeed!" she answered, her eyes sparkling, "it's what I'm used to athome. Papa rides with us almost every morning. "

"Will I do for an escort?"

"Oh, yes, if mamma consents. Gert will go too, won't she?"

"No, she prefers her morning nap. "

Philip was a manly boy, the neighborhood a safe one, and the pony Elsiewould ride, well-broken and not too spirited, so mamma's consent wasreadily given, with the proviso that they should not go before sunrise, orchoose a lonely road. 

"By the way, " she added, "I should like you to do an errand for me at Mrs. Gibson's. "

As Sally Gibson was sweeping the doorstep early the next morning, a coupleof ponies dashed up to the gate, in whose riders she instantly recognizedElsie Travilla and Philip Ross. 

"Hallo!" shouted the latter, "this young lady has something for you. "

"Good-morning, " Elsie said, reaching out a little gloved hand, as the girldrew near, "mamma bade me bring you this note, and ask how your mother isto-day. "

"A little better, thank you; it has done her a world of good to--to haveher mind so relieved, and the doctor's medicine seems to have helped hertoo. How very, very kind Mrs. Travilla is, " she added, with tears in hereyes, "and Mrs. Ross. Won't you come in?"

"Not this morning, thank you, " and away they galloped. Sally looking afterthem with admiring eyes, and a murmured exclamation, "How pretty and sweetshe is!"

It was not an envious sigh that accompanied the words, but born of mingledemotions, --the half-formed thought, "Shall I ever know such pleasures. Alas, they are not for me!" quickly succeeded by another, --"Ah, that sweetchild cannot live to maturity, and be always as happy and free from care, as now. "

Her mother's shrill voice recalled her to herself, "Why do you standthere? What's that they gave you?"

"A note, mother. It's directed to me. "

"Then make haste and read it. "

"Shall I not give you your breakfast first?"

"No, no! do as I bid you. "

So the girl read the missive aloud without delay. 

It was from Mrs. Travilla, and stated that she had already written toengage a room for Mrs. Gibson in a cottage in a quiet little seaside town;a place recommended by Doctor Morton as very suitable; and that she wouldsecure a competent nurse to go with her. 

"Why can't she send you, too, instead of hiring a stranger to go with me?"here interrupted Mrs. Gibson, angrily. 

"Wait, mother, " said Sally in quivering tones, tears of joy and gratitudefilling her eyes. 

She dashed them away and read on. 

"I have another plan for you. Doctor Morton told you his opinion, --thatyour case was hopeless. But do not despair; mistakes are often made evenby the most skilful men. A friend of mine, whose trouble was very similarto yours--consulted a number of excellent oculists all of whom told herthe nerve of her eye was affected and there was no help for it, she wouldcertainly go blind; then as a last hope she went to Doctor Thomson ofPhiladelphia, who succeeded in giving her entire relief. If you arewilling, I will send you to him. And now the first thing is to provideyour mother and yourself each with a suitable outfit. Come up to the Cragsas early this morning as you can, and we will make arrangements. "

CHAPTER TENTH. 

 "When we see the flower seeds wafted, From the nurturing mother tree, Tell we can, wherever planted, What the harvesting will be; Never from the blasting thistle, Was there gathered golden grain, Thus the seal the child receiveth, From its mother will remain. " --MRS. HALE. 

For once Mrs. Gibson had the grace to feel a passing emotion of gratitudeto this kind benefactor, and shame that she herself had been so ready withfault-finding instead of thanks. 

As for Sally, she was completely overcome, and dropping into a chair, hidher face and cried heartily. 

"Come, don't be a fool, " her mother said at last; "there's too much to bedone to waste time in crying, and besides you'll hurt your eyes. "

Sally rose hastily, removed the traces of her tears, and began setting thetable for their morning meal. 

"How soon are you going?" her mother asked at its conclusion. 

"Just as soon as I can get the things cleared away and the dishes washed;if you think you can spare me. "

"Of course I can. I feel well enough this morning to help myself toanything I'm likely to want. "

There was still half an hour to spare before breakfast when, after a roundof five or six miles on their ponies, Philip and Elsie reached the Crags. 

"What shall you do with yours?" asked Philip, remarking upon that fact. 

"Read, " she answered, looking back at him with a smile as she trippedlightly up the stairs. 

Dinah was in waiting to smooth her hair and help her change the prettyriding hat and habit for a dress better suited to the house; then Elsie, left alone, seated herself by a window with her Bible in her hand. 

For a moment her eyes rested upon the blue distant mountains, softlyoutlined against the deeper blue of the sky, watched the cloud shadowsfloating over the nearer hills and valleys here richly wooded, therecovered with fields of waving grain her ear the while drinking in withdelight many a sweet rural sound, the songs of birds, the distant lowingof cattle, and bleating of sheep--her heart swelling with ardent love andthankfulness to him who had given her so much to enjoy. 

Dinah had left the door open, that the fresh air might course freelythrough the room, and Gertrude coming, some minutes later, in search ofher friend, stood watching Elsie for a little unperceived. 

"Dear me!" she exclaimed at length, "how many times a day do you pore overthat book?"

Elsie looked up with a smile as sweet as the morning, "I am allowed toread it as often as I please. "

"Allowed? not compelled? not ordered?"

"No, only I must have a text ready for mamma every morning. "

"Getting one ready for to-morrow?"

"No, just reading. I had time for only a verse or two before my ride. "

"Well, that would be plenty for me. I can read it, too, as often as Ilike, but a chapter or two on Sunday, generally does me for all the week. There's the bell; come let's go down. "

Vi met them at the door of the breakfast-room. "Oh, Elsie, did you have apleasant ride? Is Sally Gibson coming soon?"

"I don't know; mamma said I need not wait for an answer. "

There was time for no more, and Vi must put a restraint upon herself, repressing excitement and curiosity for the present, as mamma expected herchildren to be very quiet and unobtrusive at table when away from home. 

Vi was delighted when just as they were leaving the table, a servantannounced that a young person who called herself Miss Gibson, was askingfor Miss Travilla; for Vi never liked waiting, and was always eager tocarry out immediately any plan that had been set on foot. 

Mrs. Gibson was not troubled with any delicacy of feeling about asking forwhat she wanted, and had made out a list of things to be provided forherself and Sally, which the girl was ashamed to show; so extravagantseemed its demands. 

When urged by her benefactress, she mentioned a few of the most necessaryarticles, modestly adding that the generous gift Mrs. Travilla had alreadybestowed, ought to be sufficient to supply all else that might berequired. 

Elsie, seating herself at her writing desk and taking out pen, ink andpaper, looked smilingly into the eager faces of her two little girls. 

"What do you think about it, dears?"

"Oh, they must have more things; a good many more, and we want to help payfor them with our money. "

"You see, Miss Sally, they will be sadly disappointed if you refuse toaccept their gifts, " Elsie said. "Now I'm going to make out a list and youmust all help me, lest something should be forgotten. Mrs. Ross has kindlyoffered us the use of her carriage, and we will drive to the nearest townand see what we can find there, the rest we will order from New York. "

The list was made out amid much innocent jesting and merry laughter ofboth mother and children, --Sally a deeply interested and delightedspectator of their pleasing intercourse--the mother so sweet, gentle andaffectionate, the children so respectful and loving to her, so kind andconsiderate to each other. 

In fact, the girl was so occupied in watching them, that she was not awaretill Mrs. Travilla read it over aloud, that this new list was longer andmore extravagant than the one she had suppressed. 

"Oh, it is too much, Mrs. Travilla!" she cried, the tears starting to hereyes. 

"My dear child, " returned Elsie, playfully, "I'm a wilful woman and willhave my own way. Come, the carriage is in waiting and we must go. "

The shopping expedition was quite a frolic for the children, and a greattreat to poor, overworked Sally. "She looks so shabby; I'd be ashamed togo with her to the stores or anywhere, or to have her ride in the carriagewith me, " Gertrude had said to Vi as the little girls were having theirhats put on; but Vi answered indignantly, "She's clean and tidy, and sheisn't vulgar or rude, and I do believe she's good; and mamma says dressand riches don't make the person. "

And that seemed to be the feeling of all; Elsie, too, had purposelydressed herself and her children as plainly as possible; so that Sally, though at first painfully conscious of the deficiencies in her attire, soon forgot all about them, and gave herself up to the thorough enjoymentof the pleasures provided for her. 

She felt that it would be very ungrateful did she not share the heartyrejoicing of the children over "her pretty things" as they eagerlyselected and paid for them with their own pocket money, seeming fully torealize the truth of the Master's declaration, "It is more blessed to givethan to receive. "

Vi would have had the making of the new dresses begun at once, wantingSally to return with them to the Crags, and let Dinah fit her immediately, but was overruled by her mamma. 

"No, my dear, Sally must go home to her sick mother now, and Dinah shallgo to them after dinner. "

"But mamma, I want to begin my part. You know you said I could hem nicely, and might do some on the ruffles or something. "

"Yes, daughter, and so you shall, but must rest awhile first. "

Violet had often to be held back in starting upon some new enterprise, andafterward encouraged or compelled to persevere, while Elsie was moredeliberate at first, more steadfast in carrying out what she had onceundertaken. Each had what the other lacked, both were very winsome andlovable, and they were extremely fond of one another; scarcely less so oftheir brothers and the darling baby sister. 

"When may I begin, mamma?" asked Vi, somewhat impatiently. 

"After breakfast to-morrow morning you may spend an hour at your needle. "

"Only an hour, mamma? It would take all summer at that rate. "

"Ah, what a doleful countenance, daughter mine!" Elsie said laughingly, asshe bent down and kissed the rosy cheek. "You must remember that my twolittle girls are not to carry the heavy end of this, and the sewing willbe done in good season without overworking them. I could not permit that;I must see to it that they have plenty of time for rest and for healthfulplay. I appoint you one hour a day, and shall allow you to spend one more, if you wish, but that must be all. "

Violet had been trained to cheerful acquiescence in the decisions of herparents, and now put it in practice, yet wished very much that mamma wouldlet her work all day for Sally, till her outfit was ready; she was sureshe should not tire of it; but she soon learned anew the lessons she hadlearned a hundred times before--that mamma knew best. 

The first day she would have been willing to sew a little longer after thesecond hour's task was done; the next, two hours were fully sufficient tosatisfy her appetite for work: on the third, it was a weariness before theend of the first hour; on the fourth, she would have been glad to beg offentirely, but her mother said firmly, "No, dear; one hour's work is nottoo much for you, and you know I allowed you to undertake it only oncondition that you would persevere to the end. "

"Yes, mamma, but I am very tired, and I think I'll never undertakeanything again, " and with a little sigh the child seated herself and beganher task. 

Mamma smiled sympathizingly, softly smoothed the golden curls, and said inher own gentle voice, "Let us not be weary in well-doing'! Do you rememberthe rest of it?"

"Yes, mamma, 'for in due season we shall reap, if we faint not. ' And youtold us to faint was to get tired and stop. But mamma, what shall I reapby keeping on with this?"

"A much needed lesson in perseverance, for one thing, I hope my littledaughter, and for another the promise given in the forty-first Psalm, 'Blessed is he that considereth the poor; the Lord will deliver him intime of trouble. The Lord will preserve him, and keep him alive; and heshall be blessed upon the earth; and thou wilt not deliver him unto thewill of his enemies. The Lord will strengthen him upon the bed oflanguishing: thou wilt make all his bed in his sickness. '

"How would you like to hear a story while you sit here sewing by my side?"

"Oh, ever so much, mamma! A story! a story!" And all the little flockclustered about mamma's chair, for they dearly loved her stories. 

This was an old favorite, but the narrator added some new characters andnew scenes, spinning it out, yet keeping up the interest, till it and thehour came to an end very nearly together. 

Then the children, finding that was to be all for the present, scatteredto their play. 

Mrs. Ross had come in a few minutes before, and signing to her friend toproceed, had joined the group of listeners. 

"Dear me, Elsie, how can you take so much trouble with your children?" shesaid. "You seem to be always training and teaching them in the sweetest, gentlest way; and of course they're good and obedient. I'm sure I lovemine dearly, but I could never have the patience to do all you do. "

"My dear friend, how can I do less, when so much of their future welfare, for time and for eternity, depends upon my faithfulness?"

"Yes, " said Lucy slowly, "but the mystery to me is, how you can keep thatin mind all the time, and how you can contrive always to do the rightthing?"

"I wish I did, but it is not so; I make many mistakes. "

"I don't see it. You do wonderfully well anyhow, and I want to know howyou manage it. "

"I devote most of my time and thoughts to it; I try to study the characterof each child, and above all, I pray a great deal for wisdom and for God'sblessing on my efforts; not always on my knees, for it is a blessedtruth, that we may lift our hearts to him at any time and in any place. Oh, Lucy, " she exclaimed with tearful earnestness, "if I can but train mychildren for God and heaven, what a happy woman shall I be I the longingdesire of my heart for them is that expressed in the stanza of Watts'sCradle Hymn:

 'Mayst them live to know and fear him, Trust and love him all thy days, Then go dwell forever near him, See his face and sing his praise!'"

CHAPTER ELEVENTH. 

 "Beware the bowl! though rich and bright, Its rubies flash upon the sight, An adder coils its depths beneath, Whose lure is woe, whose sting is death. " --STREET. 

Mrs. Ross had found a nurse for Mrs. Gibson and a seamstress to help withthe sewing; a good many of the needed garments were ordered from New Yorkready made, and in a few days the invalid was comfortably established inthe seaside cottage recommended by Dr. Morton. 

In another week, Sally found herself in possession of a wardrobe that morethan satisfied her modest desires. She called at the Crags in her newtraveling dress, to say good-bye, looking very neat and lady-like; happytoo, in spite of anxiety in regard to her sight. 

Not used to the world, timid and retiring, she had felt a good deal ofnervous apprehension about taking the journey alone; but business calledMr. Ross to Philadelphia, and he offered to take charge of her and see hersafe in the quiet boarding-place already secured for her by Mrs. EdwardAllison, to whom Elsie had written on her behalf. 

Adelaide had never felt either love or respect for the ill-temperedgoverness of her younger brothers and sisters, but readily undertook to doa kindness for her child. 

"Have you the doctor's address?" Mr. Ross asked, when taking leave of thegirl in her new quarters. 

"Yes, sir; Mrs. Travilla gave it to me on a card, and I have it safe. Aletter of introduction too, from Dr. Morton. He says he is not personallyacquainted with Dr. Thomson, but knows him well by reputation, and ifanybody can help me he can. "

"That is encouraging, and I hope you will have no difficulty in findingthe place. It is in the next street and only a few squares from here. "

Sally thought she could find it readily; Mrs. Travilla had given her verycareful directions about the streets and numbers in Philadelphia; besides, she could inquire if she were at a loss. 

When Mr. Ross returned home, he brought some one with him at sight of whomthe Ion children uttered a joyous cry, and who stepping from the carriage, caught their mother in his arms and held her to his heart, as if he meantnever to let her go. 

"Papa! papa!" cried the children, "we did not know you were coming; mammadid not tell us. Mamma, did you know?"

"Yes, mamma had known; they saw it in her smiling eyes; and now they knewwhy it was that she had watched and listened so eagerly for the coming ofthe carriage; even more so than Aunt Lucy, who was expecting Uncle Philip, and who was very fond of him too. But then he had left her only the otherday, and mamma and papa had been parted for weeks. "

Mr. Travilla had rented a furnished cottage at Cape May and come to takethem all there. The doctors thought that would be best for Lily now. 

The young folks were greatly pleased, and ready to start at once; they hadenjoyed their visit to the Crags, but had missed papa sadly, and now theywould have him with them all the time, grandpa and the whole family fromthe Oaks, too; for they were occupying an adjoining cottage. And thedelicious salt sea breeze, oh, how pleasant it would be!

Mrs. Ross was sorry to part with her guests, had hoped to keep her friendwith her all summer, but a good deal comforted in her disappointment, bythe knowledge that her mother, Sophie and her children would soon taketheir places. 

As for young Philip he was greatly vexed and chagrined. "It is really toobad!" he said seeking little Elsie out, and taking a seat by her side. 

She was on the porch at some little distance from the others, and busiedin turning over the pages of a new book her papa had brought her. 

"What is too bad, Phil?" she asked, closing it, and giving her fullattention to him. 

"That you must be hurried away so soon. I've hardly been at home twoweeks, and we hadn't seen each other before for two years. "

"Well a fortnight is a good while. And you will soon have your cousinshere--Herbert, Meta----"

"Herbert!" he interrupted impatiently, "who cares for him? and Meta, prying, meddling, tell-tale Meta's worse than nobody. But there! don'tlook so shocked, as if I had said an awfully wicked thing. I really don'thate her at all, though she got me into trouble more than once withgrandma and Aunt Sophie that winter we spent at Ashlands. Ah, a brightthought strikes me!"

"Indeed! may I have the benefit of it?" asked the little girl, smilingarchly. 

"That you may. It is that you might as well stay on another week, or aslong as you will. "

"Thank you, but you must remember the doctor says we should go at once, onbaby's account. "

"I know that, but I was speaking only of you personally. Baby doesn't needyou, and papa could take you to your father and mother after a while. "

"Let them all go and leave me behind? Oh, Phil, I couldn't think of such athing!"

The Travillas had been occupying their seaside cottage for two weeks, whena letter came from Sally Gibson; the first she had written them, thoughshe had been notified at once of their change of address, told that theywould be glad to hear how she was and what Dr. Thomson thought of hercase, and a cordial invitation given her to come to them to rest andrecruit as soon as she was ready to leave her physician. 

Elsie's face grew very bright as she read. 

"What does she say?" asked her husband. 

"There is first an apology for not answering sooner (her eyes were so fullof belladonna that she could not see to put pen to paper, and she had noone to write for her), then a burst of joy and gratitude--to God, to thedoctor and to me, --'success beyond anything she had dared to hope, ' butshe will be with us to-morrow, and tell us all about it. "

"And she won't be blind, mamma?" queried Violet, joyously. 

"No, dear; I think that she must mean that her eyes are cured, or hersight made good in some way. "

"Oh, then, I'll just love that good doctor!" cried the child, clasping herhands in delight. 

The next day brought Sally, but they scarcely recognized her, she hadgrown so plump and rosy, and there was so glad a light in the eyes thatlooked curiously at them through glasses clear as crystal. 

Mrs. Travilla took her by both hands and kissed her. 

"Welcome, Sally; I am glad to see you, but should scarcely have knownyou, had we met in a crowd;--you are looking so well and happy. "

"And so I am, my dear kind friend, " the girl answered with emotion; "and Ican see! see to read fine print that is all a blur to me without theseglasses; and all the pain is gone, the fear, the distress of body andmind. Oh, the Lord has been good, good to me! and the doctor so kind andinterested! I shall be grateful to him and to you as long as I live!"

"Oh, did he make you those glasses? what did he do to you?" asked theeager, curious children. "Tell us all about it, please. "

But mamma said, "No, she is too tired now; she must go to her room and liedown and rest till tea-time. "

Little Elsie showed her the way, saw that nothing was wanting that couldcontribute to her comfort, then left her to her repose. 

It was needed after all the excitement and the hot dusty ride in the cars;but she came down from it quite fresh, and as ready to pour out the wholestory of the experiences of the past two weeks as the children coulddesire. 

When tea was over, they clustered round her on the cool breezy verandaoverlooking the restless murmuring sea, and by her invitation, questionedher to their heart's content. 

"Is he a nice kind old man, like our doctor at Ion?" began little Harold. 

"Quite as nice and kind I should think, but not very old. "

"Did he hurt you very much?" asked Elsie, who had great sympathy forsuffering, whether mental or physical. 

"Oh, no, not at all! He said directly that the eyes were not diseased; thetrouble was malformation and could be remedied by suitable glasses; andoh, how glad I was to hear it!"

"I thought mamma read from your letter that he put medicine in your eyes. "

"Yes, belladonna, but that was only to make them sick, so that he couldexamine them thoroughly, and measure them for the glasses. "

Turning to Mrs. Travilla, "He is very kind and pleasant to every one; sofar as I could see making no difference between rich and poor, but deeplyinterested in each case in turn; always giving his undivided attention tothe one he has in hand at the moment; putting his whole heart and mindinto the work. "

"Which is doubtless one great reason why he is so successful, " remarkedMrs. Travilla, adding, "Remember that, my children; half-hearted workaccomplishes little for this world or the next. "

"Weren't you afraid the first time you went?" asked timid little Elsie. 

"My heart beat pretty fast, " said Sally smiling. "I am rather bashful yousee, and worse than that, I was afraid the doctor would say like theothers, that it was the nerve and I would have to go blind, or that somedreadful operation would be necessary; but after I had seen him and foundout how kind and pleasant he was, and that I'd nothing painful ordangerous to go through, and might hope for good sight at last, I didn'tmind going at all. 

"It was a little tedious sitting there in the outer office among strangerswith no one to speak to, and nothing to do for hours at a time, but thatwas nothing compared to what I was to gain by it. "

Then the children wanted to know what the doctor measured eyes with, andhow he did it, and Sally amused them very much by telling how she had tosay her letters every day and look at the gaslight and tell what shape itwas, etc. , etc. 

"The doctor told me, " she said, addressing Mrs. Travilla, "that I wouldnot like the glasses at first, hardly any one does; but I do, though notso well, I dare say, as I shall after a while when I get used to them. "

Mrs. Gibson's health was improving so that she was in a fair way torecover and as she was well taken care of and did not need her daughter, Sally felt at liberty to stay with these kind friends and enjoy herself. 

She resolved to put away care and anxiety for the future, and take thefull benefit of her present advantages. Yet there was one trouble thatwould intrude itself and rob her of half her enjoyment. Tom, her only anddearly loved brother, was fast traveling the downward road, seeming whollygiven up to the dominion of the love of strong drink and kindred vices. 

It was long since she had seen or heard from him and she knew not where hewas. He had been in the habit of leaving their poor home on the Hudsonwithout deigning to give her or his mother any information as to whitherhe was bound or when he would return; sometimes coming back in a fewhours, and again staying away for days, weeks or months. 

One day Elsie saw Sally turn suddenly pale while glancing over the morningpaper and there was keen distress in the eyes she lifted to hers as thepaper fell from her nerveless hand. 

"Poor child; what is it?" Elsie asked compassionately, going to her andtaking the cold hand in hers, "anything that I can relieve or help you tobear?"

"Tom!" and Sally burst into almost hysterical weeping. 

He had been arrested in Philadelphia for drunkenness and disorderlyconduct, fined and sent to prison till the amount should be paid. 

Elsie did her best to comfort the poor sister, who was in an agony ofshame and grief. "Oh, " she sobbed, "he is such a dear fellow if only hecould let drink alone! but it's been his ruin, his ruin! He must feel sodisgraced that all his self-respect is gone and he'll never hold up hishead again or have the heart to try to do better. "

"Don't despair, poor child!" said Elsie, "he has not fallen too far forthe grace of God to reclaim him; 'Behold the Lord's hand is not shortened, that it cannot save; neither his ear heavy, that it cannot hear. '"

"And oh, I cry day and night to him for my poor Tom, so weak, so besetwith temptations!" exclaimed the girl, "and will he not hear me at last?"

"He will if you ask in faith pleading the merits of his Son, " returned herfriend in moved tones. 

"He must be saved!" Mr. Travilla said with energy, when Elsie repeated tohim this conversation with Sally. "I shall take the next train forPhiladelphia and try to find him. "

Tom was found, his fine paid, his release procured, his rags exchanged forneat gentlemanly attire, hope of better things for this world and the nextset before him, and with self-respect and manhood partially restored byall this and the kindly considerate, brotherly manner of his benefactor, he was persuaded to go with the latter to share with Sally for a fewweeks, the hospitality of that pleasant seaside home. 

He seemed scarcely able to lift his eyes from the ground as Mr. Travillaled him into the veranda where the whole family were gathered eagerlyawaiting their coming; but in a moment Sally's arms were round his neck, her kisses and tears warm on his cheek, as she sobbed out in excess ofjoy, "O Tom, dear Tom, I'm so glad to see you!"

Then Mrs. Travilla's soft white hand grasped his in cordial greeting, andher low sweet voice bade him welcome; and the children echoed her words, apparently with no other thought of him than that he was Sally's brotherand it was perfectly natural he should be there with her. 

So he was soon at ease among them; but felt very humble, kept close bySally and used his eyes and ears far more than his tongue. 

His kind entertainers exerted themselves to keep him out of the way oftemptation and help him to conquer the thirst for intoxicating drink, Mrs. Travilla giving Sally carte blanche to go into the kitchen and prepare hima cup of strong coffee whenever she would. 

"Sally, " he said to his sister, one evening when they sat alone togetheron the veranda, "what a place this is to be in! It's like a little heavenbelow; there is so much of peace and love; the moral atmosphere is sosweet and pure: I feel as though I had no business here, such a fallenwretch as I am!" he concluded with a groan, hiding his face in his hands. 

"Don't, Tom, dear Tom!" she whispered, putting her arms about his neck andlaying her head on his shoulder. "You've given up that dreadful habit?you're never going back to it?"

"I don't want to! God knows I don't!" he cried as in an agony of fear, "but that awful thirst--you don't know what it is! and I--I'm weak aswater. Oh if there was none of the accursed thing on the face of theearth, I might hope for salvation! Sally, I'm afraid of myself, of thedemon that is in me!"

"O, Tom, fly to Jesus!" she said, clinging to him. "He says, 'In me isthine help. ' 'Fear not; I will help thee, ' and he never yet turned a deafear to any poor sinner that cried to him for help. Cast yourself wholly onhim and he will give you strength; for 'every one that asketh, receiveth;and he that seeketh, findeth; and to him that knocketh it shall beopened. '"

There was a moment of silence, in which Sally's heart was going up inearnest prayer for him; then Mr. Travilla joined them and addressing Tomsaid, "My wife and I have been talking about your future; indeed Sally'salso; for we suppose you would like to keep together. "

"That we should, " they said. 

"Well, how would you like to emigrate to Kansas and begin life anew; awayfrom all old associates? I need not add that if you decide to go the meansshall not be wanting. "

"Thank you, sir; you have been the best of friends to us both, and to ourmother, you and Mrs. Travilla, " said Tom, with emotion: "and this is justwhat Sally and I have been wishing we could do. I understand something offarming and should like to take up a claim out there in some good locationwhere land is given to those who will settle on it. And if you, sir, canconveniently advance the few hundred dollars we shall need to carry usthere and give us a fair start, I shall gladly and thankfully accept it asa loan; hoping to be able to return it in a year or two. "

This was the arrangement made and preparations to carry it out wereimmediately set on foot. In a few days the brother and sister badegood-bye to their kind entertainers, their mother, now nearly recovered, joined them in Philadelphia, and the three together turned their faceswestward. 

In bidding adieu to Elsie, Sally whispered with tears of joy the good newsthat Tom was trusting in a strength mightier than his own, and so, asyears rolled on, these friends were not surprised to hear of his steadfastadherence to the practice of total abstinence from all intoxicatingdrinks, and his growing prosperity. 

CHAPTER TWELFTH. 

 "You may as well Forbid the seas to obey the moon, As, or by oath, remove, or counsel, shake The fabric of her folly. " --SHAKESPEARE. 

Scarcely had the Gibsons departed when their places were more than filledby the unexpected arrival of a large party from Roselands, comprising oldMr. Dinsmore, with his daughter Mrs. Conly and her entire family, with theexception of Calhoun, who would follow shortly. 

They were welcomed by their relatives with true southern hospitality andassured that the two cottages could readily be made to accommodate themall comfortably. 

"What news of Molly?" was the first question after the greetings had beenexchanged. 

Mrs. Conly shook her head and sighed, "Hasn't been able to set her foot onthe floor for weeks, and I don't believe she ever will. That's Dr. Pancoast's opinion, and he's good authority. 'Twas her condition thatbrought us North. We've left her and her mother at the Continental inPhiladelphia. 

"There's to be a consultation to-morrow of all the best surgeons in thecity. Enna wanted me to stay with her till that was over, but I couldn'tthink of it with all these children fretting and worrying to get down hereout of the heat. So I told her I'd leave Cal to take care of her andMolly. 

"Dick's with them too. He's old enough to be useful now, and Molly clingsto him far more than to her mother. "

"Isn't it dreadful, " said Virginia, "to think that that fall down-stairshas made her a cripple for life? though nobody thought she was much hurtat first. "

"Poor child! how does she bear it?" asked her uncle. 

"She doesn't know how to bear it at all, " said Mrs. Conly; "she nearlycries her eyes out. "

"No wonder, " remarked the grandfather; "it's a terrible prospect she hasbefore her, to say nothing of the present suffering. And her mother has nopatience with her; pities herself instead of the child. "

"No, " said Mrs. Conly, "Enna was never known to have much patience withanybody or anything. "

"But Dick's good to her, " remarked Isadore. 

"Yes, " said Arthur, "it's really beautiful to see his devotion to her andhow she clings to him. And it's doing the lad good;--making a man ofhim. "

"Surely Enna must feel for her child!" Elsie said, thinking of her owndarlings and how her very heart would be torn with anguish at the sight ofone of them in so distressing a condition. 

"Yes, of course, she cried bitterly over her when first the truth dawnedupon her that Molly was really so dreadfully injured; but of course thatcouldn't last and she soon took to bewailing her own hard fate in havingsuch a burden on her hands, a daughter who must always live single andcould never be anything but a helpless invalid. "

Elsie understood how it was; for had she not known Enna from a child? Herheart ached for Molly, and as she told her own little ones of their poorcousin's hopeless, helpless state, she mingled her tears with theirs. 

"Mamma, won't you 'vite her to come here?" pleaded Harold. 

"Yes, dear mamma, do, " urged the others, "and let us all try to amuse andcomfort her. "

"If I do, my dears, you may be called upon at times to give up yourpleasures for her. Do you think you will be willing to do so?"

At that the young faces grew very grave, and for a moment no one spoke. Quick, impulsive Violet was the first to answer. 

"Yes, mamma, I'm willing; I do feel so sorry for her I'd do anything tohelp her bear her pain. "

"Mamma, " said Elsie, softly, "I'll ask Jesus to help me, and I'm sure hewill. "

"So am I, daughter; and I think Vi means to ask his help too?"

"Oh, yes, mamma, I do!"

"And I, " "and I, " "and I, " responded the others. 

So the invitation was sent, for Molly and her mother and brother to comeand pay as long a visit as they would. 

A letter came in a few days, accepting it and giving the sorrowful newsthat all the surgeons agreed in the opinion that the poor girl's spine hadbeen so injured that she would never again have any use of her lowerlimbs. 

It was Mrs Conly who brought the letter to her niece, it having come inone addressed to herself. She expressed strong sympathy for Molly, but wasmuch taken up with the contents of another letter received by the samemail. 

"I've just had a most generous offer from Mr. Conly's sister, Mrs. Delaford, " she said to her niece. "She has no children of her own, is awidow and very wealthy, and she's very fond of my Isadore, who is hergodchild and namesake. She offers now to clothe and educate her, with theview of making the child her heir; and also to pay for Virgy's tuition, ifI will send them both to the convent where she was herself educated. "

"Aunt Louise, you will not think of it surely?" cried Elsie, looking muchdisturbed. 

"And why not, pray?" asked Mrs. Conly, drawing herself up, and speakingin a tone of mingled hauteur, pique and annoyance. 

"You would not wish them to become Romanists?"

"No, of course not; but that need not follow. "

"It is very apt to follow. "

"Nonsense! I should exact a promise that their faith would not beinterfered with. "

"But would that avail, since, 'No faith with heretics, ' has been forcenturies the motto of the 'infallible, unchangeable, ' Church of Rome?"

"I think you are inclined to see danger where there is none, " returned theaunt. "I would not for the world be as anxious and fussy about my childrenas you are about yours. Besides, I think it quite right to let theirfather's relatives do for them when they are both able and willing. "

"But Aunt Louise----"

"There! don't let us talk any more about the matter to-day, if youplease, " interrupted Mrs. Conly, rising, "I must go now and prepare for mybath. I'll be in again this evening to see Enna and the others. They'll bedown by the afternoon train. Good-morning. "

And she sailed away, leaving Elsie sad and anxious for the future of heryoung cousins. 

"What is it, daughter?" Mr. Dinsmore asked, coming in a moment later. "Ihave seldom seen you look so disturbed. "

Her face brightened, as was its wont under her father's greeting, but, this time, only momentarily. 

"I am troubled, papa, " she said, making room for him on the sofa by herside. "Here is a note from Enna. The doctors give Molly no hope that shewill ever walk again. One cannot help feeling very sad for her, poorchild! and besides something Aunt Louise has been telling me, makes meanxious for Isadore and Virginia. "

He was scarcely less concerned than she, when he heard what that was. "Ishall talk to Louise, " he said, "it would be the height of folly to exposeher girls to such influences. It is true I once had some thoughts ofsending you to a convent school, under the false impression that theaccomplishments were more thoroughly taught there than in the Protestantseminaries; but with the light I have since gained upon the subject, Iknow that it would have been a fearful mistake. "

"Dear papa, " she said, putting her hand into his and looking at him withloving eyes, "I am so thankful to you that you did not; so thankful thatyou taught me yourself. The remembrance of the hours we spent together asteacher and pupil, has always been very sweet to me. "

"To me also, " he answered with a smile. 

The expected guests arrived at the appointed time, Enna looking worn, faded and fretful, Dick sad and anxious, poor Molly, weary, exhausted, despairing; as if life had lost all brightness to her. 

Her proud spirit rebelled against her helplessness, against the curious, even the pitying looks it attracted to her from strangers in the streetsand public conveyances. 

The transit from one vehicle to another was made in the strong arms of astalwart negro whom they had brought with them from Roselands, Dickfollowing closely to guard his sister from accident, and shield her asmuch as possible from observation, while Enna and Cal brought up the rear. 

A room on the ground floor had been appropriated to Molly's use, andthither she was carried at once, and gently laid upon a couch. Instantlyher cousin Elsie's arms were about her, her head pillowed upon the gentlebreast, while tears of loving sympathy fell fast upon her poor pale face, mingled with tender caresses and whispered words of endearment. 

It did the child good; the tears and sobs that came in response, relievedher aching heart of half its load. But it vexed Enna. 

"What folly, Elsie!" she said, "don't you see how you're making the childcry? And I've been doing my best to get her to stop it; for of course itdoes no good, and only injures her eyes. "

"Forgive me, dear child, if I have hurt you, " Elsie said low and tenderly, as she laid Molly's head gently back against the pillows. 

"You haven't! you've done me good!" cried the girl, flashing an indignantglance at Enna. "Oh, mother, if you treated me so, it wouldn't be half sohard to bear!"

"I've learned not to expect anything but ingratitude from my children, "said Enna, coldly returning Elsie's kind greeting. 

But Dick grasped his cousin's hand warmly, giving her a look of gratefulaffection, and accepted with delight her offered kiss. 

"Now, I will leave you to rest, " she said to Molly, "and when you feellike seeing your cousins, they will be glad to come in and speak to you. They are anxious to do all they can for your entertainment while you arehere. "

"Yes, but I want to see grandpa and Uncle Horace now, please; they justkissed me in the car, and that was all. "

They came in at once, full of tender sympathy for the crippled, sufferingchild. 

"They're so kind, " sobbed Molly, as they left the room. 

"Yes, you can appreciate everybody's kindness but your mother's, " remarkedEnna in a piqued tone, "and everybody can be sorry for you, but myfeelings are lost sight of entirely. "

"Oh, mother, don't!" sighed Molly. "I'm sure I've enough to bear withoutyour reproaches. I'd appreciate you fast enough, if you were such a motheras Cousin Elsie. "

"Or as Aunt Louise, why don't you say?" said Mrs. Conly, coming in, goingup to the couch, and kissing her. "How d'ye do, Enna?"

"Yes, even you are sorrier for me than mother is, I do believe!" returnedMolly, bursting into tears; "and if it was Isa or Virgy you'd be ever sogood to her, and not scold her as mother does me. "

"Why, I'm just worn out and worried half to death about that girl, " saidEnna, in answer to her sister's query. "She'll never walk a stepagain--all the doctors say that. " At these words Molly was almostconvulsed with sobs, but Enna went on relentlessly. "And when they askedher how it happened, she up and told them her high-heeled shoes threw herdown, and that she didn't want to wear them, but I made her do it. "

"And so you did, and I only told it because one of the doctors asked if Ididn't know they were dangerous; and when I said yes, he wanted to knowhow I came to be so foolish as to wear them. "

"And then he lectured me, " Enna went on, "as if it was all my fault, whenof course it was her own carelessness; for if it wasn't, why haven't someof the rest of us fallen down. Accidents happen when nobody's to blame. "

"I came near falling the other day, myself, " said Mrs. Conly, "and I'llnever wear a high, narrow heel again, nor let one of my girls do so. NowI'm going out. You two ought to take a nap; Molly especially, poor child!I'm very sorry for you; but don't cry any more now. It will only hurtyour eyes. "

Mrs. Conly was to stay to tea and spend the evening. Stepping into theparlor she found all the adult members of the family there. 

"I want to have a talk with you, Louise, " her brother said, seating hercomfortably on a sofa and drawing up a chair beside her. 

"And I think I know what about, " she returned with heightened color, glancing toward Elsie, "but let me tell you beforehand, Horace, that youmay as well spare yourself the trouble. I have already accepted Mrs. Delaford's offer. "

"Louise! how could you be so hasty in so important a matter?"

"Permit me to answer that question with another, " she retorted, drawingherself up haughtily, "what right have you to call me to an account for sodoing?"

"Only the right of an older brother to take a fraternal interest in yourwelfare and that of his nieces. "

"What is it, mother?" asked Calhoun. 

She told him in a few words, and he turned to his uncle with the query whyhe so seriously objected to her acceptance of what seemed so favorable anoffer. 

"Because I think it would be putting in great jeopardy the welfare of yoursisters, temporal and spiritual"

"What nonsense, Horace!" exclaimed Mrs. Conly angrily. "Of course I shallexpressly stipulate that their faith is not to be interfered with. "

"And just as much of course the promise will be given and systematicallybroken without the slightest compunction; because in the creed of Rome theend sanctifies the means and no end is esteemed higher or holier than thatof adding members to her communion. "

"Well, " said Louise, "I must say you judge them hardly. I'm sure there areat least some pious ones among them and of course they wouldn't lie. "

"You forget that the more pious they are, the more obedient they will beto the teachings of their church, and when she tells them it is a piousact to be false to their word or oath, for her advancement, or to burn, kill and destroy, or to break any other commandment of the decalogue, theywill obey believing that thus they do God service. 

"Really the folly and credulity of Protestant parents who commit theirchildren to the care of those who teach and put in practice, too, thesetwo maxims, so utterly destructive of all truth and honesty, allconfidence between man and man--'The end sanctifies the means, ' and 'Nofaith with heretics, '--is to me perfectly astounding. "

"So you consider me a fool, " said Mrs. Conly, bridling, "thanks for thecompliment. "

"It is you who make the application, Louise, " he answered. "I had nothought of doing so, and still hope you will prove your wisdom byreconsidering and letting Mrs. Delaford know that you revoke yourdecision. "

"Indeed I shall not; I consider that I have no right to throw awayIsadore's fortune. "

"Have you then a greater right to imperil her soul's salvation?" he askedwith solemn earnestness. 

"Pshaw! what a serious thing you make of it, " she exclaimed, yet with anuneasy and troubled look. 

"Uncle!" cried Calhoun in surprise, "do you not think there have been andare some real Christians in the Romish Church?"

"No doubt of it, Cal; some who, spite of her idolatrous teachings, worshipGod alone and put their trust solely in the atoning blood and imputedrighteousness of Christ. Yet who can fail to see in the picture of Babylonthe Great so graphically drawn in Revelation, a faithful portraiture ofRome? And the command is, 'Come out of her, my people, that ye be notpartaker of her sins, and that ye receive not of her plagues. '"

Mr. Dinsmore paused, but no one seeming to have anything to say in reply, went on to give his sister a number of instances which had come to hisknowledge, of the perversion of Protestant girls while being educated inconvents. 

"Well, " she said at last, "I'm not going to draw back now, but I shall beon the watch and if they do begin to tamper with my girls' faith I'llremove them at once. There now I hope you are satisfied!"

"Not quite, Louise, " he said, "they are accomplished proselyters and mayhave the foundations completely and irremediably undermined ere yoususpect that they have begun. "

CHAPTER THIRTEENTH. 

 "Affliction is the wholesome soil of virtue; Where patience, honor, sweet humanity, Calm fortitude, take root, and strongly flourish. " --MALLET AND THOMSON'S ALFRED. 

A bath, a nap, and a dainty supper had refreshed Molly somewhat before thechildren were admitted to her room, but they found her looking pale andthin, and oh, so sorrowful! so different from the bright, merry, happy"Cousin Molly" of six months ago. 

Their little hearts swelled with sympathetic grief, and tears filled theireyes as one after another they took her hand and kissed her lovingly. 

"Poor child, I so solly for oo!" said Herbert, and Molly laughedhysterically, then put her hands over her face, and sobbed as though herheart would break. First, it was the oddity of being called "child" bysuch a mere baby, then the thought that she had become an object of pityto such an one. 

"Don' ky, " he said, pulling away her hand to kiss her cheek. "Herbiedidn't mean to make oo ky. "

"Come, Herbie dear, let us go now; we mustn't tease poor sick cousin, "whispered his sister Elsie, drawing him gently away. 

"No, no! let him stay; let him love me, " sobbed Molly. "He is a dearlittle fellow, " she added, returning his caresses, and wiping away hertears. 

"Herbie will love oo, poor old sing, " he said, stroking her face, "andmamma and papa, and all de folks will be ever so dood to oo. "

Molly's laugh was more natural this time, and under its inspiringinfluence, the little ones grew quite merry, really amusing her with theirprattle, till their mammy came to take them to bed. 

Elsie was beginning to say good-night too, thinking there was danger ofwearying the invalid, but Molly said, "I don't wonder you want to leaveme; mother says nobody could like to stay with such a----" she broke offsuddenly, again hid her face in her hands and wept bitterly. 

"Oh, no, no! I was only afraid of tiring you, " Elsie said, leaning overher and stroking her hair with soft, gentle touch. "I should like to stayand talk if you wish; to tell you all about our visit to the Crags, andmamma's old governess, and----"

"Oh, yes, do; anything to help me to forget, even for a few minutes. Oh, Iwish I was dead! I wish I was dead! I can't bear to live and be acripple!"

"Dear Molly, don't cry, don't feel so dreadfully about it!" Elsie said, weeping with her. "Jesus will help you to bear it; he loves you, and issorrier for you than anybody else is; and he won't let you be sick or inpain in heaven. "

"No, he doesn't love me! I'm not good enough; and if he did, he wouldn'thave let me get such a dreadful fall. "

Little Elsie was perplexed for the moment, and knew not what to answer. 

"Couldn't he have kept me from falling?" demanded Molly, almost fiercely. 

"Yes, he can do everything. "

"Then I hate him for letting me fall!"

Elsie was inexpressibly shocked. "Oh, Molly!" in an awed, frightened tone, was all that she could say. 

"I'm awfully wicked, I know I am; but I can't help it. Why did he let mefall? I couldn't bear to let a dog be so dreadfully hurt, if I could helpit!"

"Molly, the Bible says 'God is love. ' And in another place, 'God so lovedthe world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth inhim should not perish, but have everlasting life. ' 'God commendeth hislove toward us, in that while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us. ' Hemust have loved you, Molly, when he died that dreadful death to save you. "

"Not me. "

"Yes, if you will believe. 'Whosoever believeth. '"

"It was just for everybody in a lump, " said Molly, sighing wearily. "Notfor you or me, or anybody in particular; at least not anybody that'sliving now; because we weren't made then; so how could he?"

"But mamma says he knew he was going to make us, just the same as he doesnow; and that he thought of each one, and loved and died for each one justas much as if there was only one. "

"Well, it's queer if he loved me so well as that, and yet would let mefall and be so awfully injured. What's this? You didn't have it before youcame North, " taking hold of the gold chain about Elsie's neck. 

Out came the little watch and Elsie told about the aching tooth and thetrip to New York to have it extracted. 

"Seems to me, " was Molly's comment, "you have all the good things: such anice mother and everything else. Such a good father too, and mine waskilled when I was a little bit of a thing; and mother's so cross. 

"But Dick's good to me; dear old Dick, " she added, looking up at him withglistening eyes as he came in and going up to her couch, asked how shewas. 

"You'd better go to sleep now, " he said. "You've been talking quiteawhile, haven't you?"

At that Elsie slipped quietly away and went in search of her mother. 

She found her alone on the veranda looking out meditatively upon therestless moonlit waters of the sea. 

"Mamma, " said the child softly, "I should like a stroll on the beach withyou. Can we go alone? I want to talk with you about something. "

"Come then, daughter, " and hand in hand they sought the beach, only a fewyards distant. 

It was a clear still night, the moon nearly at the full, and the cool saltbreeze from the silver-tipped waves was exceedingly refreshing after theheat of the day; which had been one of the hottest of the season. 

For a while they paced to and fro in silence; then little Elsie gave hermother the substance of her conversation with Molly in which the latterexpressed her disbelief in God's love for her because he had not preventedher fall. "Mamma, " she said in conclusion, "how I wished you were there tomake her understand. "

"Poor child!" said the mother, in low, moved tones, "only he who permittedthis sore trial can convince her that it was sent in love. "

"But you will talk to her, mamma?"

"Yes, when a suitable opportunity offers; but prayer can do more for herthan any words of ours, addressed to her. "

The presence of Molly and her mother proved a serious drawback to theenjoyment of our party during the remainder of their sojourn at theseashore. The burden fell heaviest upon Elsie and her children, as theprincipal entertainers, and the mother had often to counsel patience andforbearance, and to remind her darlings of their promise to be ready to doall they could for the comfort and happiness of the sufferer. 

All made praiseworthy efforts to fulfil their engagement, and Elsie andVi, particularly the former, as nearest to Molly in age, and thereforemost desired by her as a companion, gave up many a pleasure excursion forher sake, staying at home to talk with and amuse her when all the restwere out driving or boating. 

CHAPTER FOURTEENTH. 

 "Ah! who can say, however fair his view, Through what sad scenes his path may lie?"

Mrs. Conly adhered to her resolve in regard to the education of herdaughters, and about the middle of September left with them and heryounger children for a visit to Mrs. Delaford, at whose house thewardrobes of the two girls were to be made ready for their first schoolyear at the convent chosen by their aunt. 

Arthur went with them as their escort. A week later the rest of theRoselands party returned home, and early in October the Oaks and Ionrejoiced in the return of their families. 

Baby Lily had been so benefited by the trip that Elsie felt warranted inresuming her loved employment as acting governess to her older children. 

They fell into the old round of duties and pleasures, as loving and happya family as one might wish to see; a striking and most pleasant contrastto the one at Roselands, that of Enna and her offspring--where the motherfretted and scolded, and the children, following her example werecontinually at war with one another. 

Only between Dick and Molly there was peace and love. The poor girl led aweary life pinned to her couch or chair, wholly dependent upon others forthe means of locomotion and for anything that was not within reach of herhand. 

She had not yet learned submission under her trial, and her mother was farfrom being an assistance in bearing it. Molly was greatly depressed inspirits, and her mother's scolding and fretting were often almost beyondendurance. 

Her younger brother and sister thought it a trouble to wait on her andusually kept out of her way, but Dick, when present, was her faithfulslave; always ready to lift and carry her, or to bring her anything shewanted. But much of Dick's time was necessarily occupied with his studies, and in going to and from his school, which was two or three miles distant. 

He was very thoughtful for her comfort, and it was through his suggestion, that their grandfather directed that one of the pleasantest rooms in thehouse, overlooking the avenue, so that all the coming and going could beseen from its windows, should be appropriated to Molly's use. 

There Dick would seat her each morning, before starting for school, in aninvalid's easy-chair presented to her by her Cousin Elsie, and there hewould be pretty sure to find her on his return, unless, as occasionallyhappened, their grandfather, Uncle Horace, Mr. Travilla, or some one ofthe relatives, had taken her out for a drive. 

One afternoon about the last of November, Molly, weary of sewing andreading, weary inexpressibly weary, of her confinement and enforcedquietude, was gazing longingly down the avenue, wishing that some onewould come to take her out for an airing, when the door opened and hermother came in dressed for the open air, in hat, cloak and furs. 

"I want you to button my glove, Molly, " she said, holding out her wrist, "Rachel's so busy on my new silk, and you have nothing to do. What afortunate child you are to be able to take your ease all the time. "

"My ease!" cried Molly bitterly, "I'd be gladder than words can tell tochange places with you for awhile. "

"Humph! you don't know what you're wishing; the way I have to worry overmy sewing for four besides myself, is enough to try the patience of asaint. By the way, it's high time you began to make yourself useful inthat line. With practice, you might soon learn to accomplish a great deal, having nothing to do but stick at it from morning to night. "

Molly was in the act of buttoning the second glove. Tears sprang to hereyes at this evidence of her mother's heartlessness, and one bright dropfell on Enna's wrist. 

"There you have stained my glove!" she exclaimed angrily. "What a baby youare! will you never have done with this continued crying?"

"It seems to be very easy for you to bear my troubles, mother, " returnedpoor Molly, raising her head proudly, and dashing away the tears, "I willtry to learn to bear them too, and never again appeal to my mother forsympathy. "

"You get enough of that from Dick, he cares ten times as much for you ashe does for me--his own mother. "

At that moment Betty came running in. "Mother, the carriage is at thedoor, and grandpa's ready. Molly, grandpa says he'll take you too, if youwant to go. "

Molly's face brightened, but before she could speak, Enna answered forher. "No, she can't; there isn't time to get her ready. "

Mrs. Johnson hurried from the room, Betty following close at her heels, and Molly was left alone in her grief and weariness. 

She watched the carriage as it rolled down the avenue, then turning fromthe window, indulged in a hearty cry. 

At length, exhausted by her emotion, she laid her head back and fellasleep in her chair. 

How long she had slept she did not know; some unusual noise down-stairswoke her, and the next moment Betty rushed in screaming, "Oh, Molly, Molly, mother and grandfather's killed; both of 'em! Oh, dear! oh, dear!"

For an instant Molly seemed stunned, she scarcely comprehended Betty'swords, then as the child repeated, "They're killed! they're both killed;the horses ran away and threw 'em out, " she too uttered a cry of anguish, and grasping the arms of her chair, made desperate efforts to rise; butall in vain, and with a groan she sank back, and covering her face withher hands, shed the bitterest tears her impotence had ever yet cost her. 

Betty had run away again, and she was all alone. Oh, how hard it was forher to be chained there in such an agony of doubt and distress! Sheforcibly restrained her groans and sobs, and listened intently. 

The Conlys, except Cal, were still at the North; the house seemedstrangely quiet, only now and then a stealthy step or a murmur of voicesand occasionally a half smothered cry from Bob or Betty. 

A horseman came dashing furiously up the avenue. It was her uncle, Mr. Horace Dinsmore. He threw himself from the saddle and hurried into thehouse, and the next minute two more followed at the same headlong pace. 

These were Cal and Dr. Barton, and they also dismounted in hot haste anddisappeared from her sight beneath the veranda. Certainly something verydreadful had happened. Oh would nobody come to tell her!

The minutes dragged their slow length along seeming like hours. She layback in her chair in an agony of suspense, the perspiration standing incold drops on her brow. 

But the sound of wheels roused her and looking out she saw the Oaks andIon carriages drive up, young Horace and Rosie alight from the one, Mr. Travilla and Elsie from the other. 

"Oh!" thought Molly, "Cousin Elsie will be sure to think of me directlyand I shall not be left much longer in this horrible suspense. "

Her confidence was not misplaced. Not many minutes had elapsed when herdoor was softly opened, a light step crossed the floor and a sweet fairface, full of tender compassion, bent over the grief-stricken girl. 

Molly tried to speak; her tongue refused its office, but Elsie quicklyanswered the mute questioning of the wild, frightened, anguished eyes. 

"There is life, " she said, taking the cold hands in hers, "life in both;and 'while there is life there is hope. ' Our dear old grandfather has abroken leg and arm and a few slight cuts and bruises, but is restored toconsciousness now, and able to speak. Your poor mother has fared stillworse, we fear, as the principal injury is to the head, but we will hopefor the best in her case also. "

Molly dropped her head on her cousin's shoulder while a burst of weepingbrought partial relief to the overburdened heart. 

Elsie clasped her arms about her and strove to soothe and comfort herwith caresses and endearing words. 

"If I could only nurse mother now, " sobbed the girl, "how glad I'd be todo it. O cousin, it most breaks my heart now to think how I've vexed andworried her since--since this dreadful trouble came to me. I'd giveanything never to have said a cross or disrespectful word to her. And nowI can do nothing for her! nothing, nothing!" and she wrung her hands ingrief and despair. 

"Yes, dear child; there is one thing you can do, " Elsie answered, weepingwith her. 

"What, what is that?" asked Molly, half incredulously, half hopefully, "what can I do chained here?"

"Pray for her, Molly, plead for her with him unto whom belong the issuesfrom death; to him who has all power in heaven and in earth and who isable to save to the uttermost. "

"No, no, even that I can't do, " sobbed Molly, "I've never learned to pray, and he isn't my friend as he is yours and your children's!"

"Then first of all make him your friend; oh, he is so kind and mercifuland loving. He says, 'Come unto me, all ye that labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. ' 'Him that cometh to me, I will in no wise castout. '"

"Oh, if I only knew how!" sighed Molly, "nobody needs such a friend morethan I. I'd give all the world to have him for mine. "

"But you cannot buy his friendship--his salvation; it is 'without moneyand without price. ' What is it to come to him? Just to take him at hisword, give yourself to him and believe his promise that he will not castyou out. "

There was a tap at the door and Rosie came in, put her arms round Molly, kissed her and wept with her. 

Then young Horace followed and after that his father. Both seemed to feelvery much for Molly and to be anxious to do everything in their power tohelp and comfort her. 

Mr. Dinsmore was evidently in deep grief and soon withdrew, Elsie goingwith him. They stood together for a few minute in the hall. 

"My dear father, how I feel for you!" Elsie said, laying her hand on hisarm and looking up at him through gathering tears. 

"Thank you, my child; your sympathy is always very sweet to me, " he said. "And you have mine; for I know this trial touches you also though somewhatless nearly than myself. "

"Is grandpa suffering much?" she asked. 

"Very much; and at his age--but I will not anticipate sorrow; we know thatthe event is in the hands of him who doeth all things well. Ah, if he wereonly a Christian! And Enna! poor Enna!"

Sobs and cries coming from the nursery broke in upon the momentary silencethat followed the exclamation. 

"Poor little Bob and Betty, I must go to them, " Elsie said, gliding awayin the direction of the sounds, while Mr. Dinsmore returned to the roomwhere his father lay groaning with the pain of his wounds. Mr. Travilla, Calhoun and the doctor were with him, but he was asking for his son. 

"Horace, " he said, "can't you stay with me?"

"Yes, father, night and day while you want me. "

"That's right! It's a good thing to have a good son. Dr. Barton, where areyou going?"

"To your daughter, sir, Mrs. Johnson. "

"Enna! is she much hurt?" asked the old man, starting up, but falling backinstantly with almost a scream of pain. 

"You must lie still, sir, indeed you must, " said the doctor, coming backto the bed; "your life depends upon your keeping quiet and excitingyourself as little as possible. "

"Yes, yes; but Enna?"

"Has no bones broken. "

"Thank God for that! then she'll do. Go, doctor, but don't leave the housewithout seeing me again. "

They were glad he was so easily satisfied, but knew he would not be if hismind were quite clear. 

Dick had come home in strong excitement, rumors of the accident having methim on the way. The horses had taken fright at the sudden shriek of alocomotive, and the breaking of a defective bit had deprived the oldgentleman of the power to control them. They ran madly down a steepembankment, wrecking the carriage and throwing both passengers out upon abed of stones. 

Pale and trembling the lad went straight to his mother's room where hefound her lying moaning on the bed, recognizing no one, unconscious ofanything that was going on about her. 

He discovered that he loved her far more than he would have believed; hethought her dying, and his heart smote him, as memory recalled many apassionate, undutiful word he had spoken to her; often, it is true, undergreat provocation, but oh, what would he not now have given to recallthem. 

He had much ado to control his emotion sufficiently to ask the doctor whathe thought of her case. He was somewhat comforted by the reply, "The injury to the head is very serious, yet I by no means despair of herlife. "

"What can I do for her?" was the boy's next question in an imploring toneas though he would esteem it a boon to be permitted to do something forher relief. 

"Nothing; we have plenty of help here, and you are too inexperienced for anurse, " Dr. Barton said, not unkindly. "But see to your sister Molly, " headded. "Poor child! she will feel this sorely. "

The admonition was quite superfluous; Dick was already hastening to her. 

Another moment and she was weening out her sorrow and anxiety on hisshoulder. 

"O Dick, " she sobbed, "I'm afraid I can never speak to her again, and--andmy last words to her, just before she went, were a reproach. I said I'dnever ask her for sympathy again; and now I never can. Oh isn't itdreadful, dreadful!" and she wept as if her very heart would break. 

"Oh, don't, Molly!" he said hoarsely, pressing her closer to him andmingling his tears with hers, "who could blame you, you poor sufferingthing! and I'm sure you must have been provoked to it. She hadn't beensaying anything kind to you?"

Molly shook her head with a fresh burst of grief. "No, oh no! oh, if we'dparted like Cousin Elsie and her children always do!--with kind, lovingwords and caresses. "

"But we're not that sort, you know, " returned Dick with an awkward attemptat consolation, "and I'm worse than you, a great deal, for I've talked upto mother many a time and didn't have the same excuse. "

There was sickness at Pinegrove. Mrs. Howard was slowly recovering from anattack of typhoid fever. This was why she had not hastened to Roselands tothe assistance of her injured father and sister. 

And Mrs. Rose Dinsmore was at Ashlands, helping Sophie nurse her childrenthrough the scarlet fever. And so, Mrs. Conly being still absent at theNorth, the burden of these new responsibilities must fall upon Mr. HoraceDinsmore and his children. 

Mr. Dinsmore undertook the care of his father, Mr. Travilla and youngHorace engaging to relieve him now and then, Elsie that of Enna; herchildren, except the baby, who with mammy must come to Roselands also, could do without her for a time. It would be hard for both her and them, she knew, but the lesson in self-denial for the sake of others, mightprove more than a compensation; and Enna must not, in her critical state, be left to the care of servants. 

Rosie volunteered to see that Molly was not neglected, and to exertherself for the poor girl's entertainment, and Bob and Betty were sent tothe Oaks to be looked after by Mrs. Murray and their cousin Horace. 

It would be no easy or agreeable task for the old lady, but she was surenot to object in view of the fact that quiet was essential to the recoveryof the sufferers at Roselands. 

CHAPTER FIFTEENTH. 

 "Great minds, like heaven, are pleased in doing good, Though the ungrateful subjects of their favors Are barren in return. " --ROWE. 

The short winter day was closing in. At Ion, five eager, expectant littlefaces were looking out upon the avenue, where slowly and softly, tinysnowflakes were falling, the only moving thing within range of theirvision. 

"Oh, dear, what does keep papa and mamma so long!" cried Vi, impatiently;"it seems most like a year since they started. "

"Oh, no, Vi, not half a day yet!"

"I don't mean it _is_, Eddie, but it does _seem_ like it to me. Elsie, doyou think anything's happened?"

"One of the horses may have lost a shoe, " Elsie said, trying to be verycheerful, and putting her arm round Violet as she spoke. "I remember thathappened once a good while ago. But if mamma were here, don't you knowwhat she would say, little sister?"

"Yes; 'don't fret; don't meet trouble half way, but trust in God, ourFather, who loves us so dearly, that he will never let any real harm cometo us. '"

"I think our mamma is very wise, " remarked Eddie; "so very much wiser thanAunt Lucy, who gets frightened at every little thing. "

"Oh, Eddie dear, would mamma or papa like that?" said Elsie softly. 

"Well, it's true, " he said reddening. 

But they've both told us that unkind remarks should not be made even iftrue: unless it is quite necessary. "

"Oh, why don't papa and mamma come?" "Oh, I wis dey would! I so tiredwatchin' for 'em!" burst out Harold and Herbert, nearly ready to cry. 

"Look! look!" cried the others in chorus, "they are coming, the carriageis just turning in at the gate!"

But it was growing so dark now, and the tiny flakes were coming down sothick and fast, that none of them were quite sure the carriage was theirown, until it drew up before the door, and two dear familiar formsalighted and came up the veranda steps. 

They were greeted with as joyous a welcome as if they had been absent forweeks or months, and returned the sweet caresses as lovingly as they werebestowed, smiling tenderly upon each darling of their hearts. 

But almost instantly little Elsie perceived something unusual in thesweet, fair face she loved so dearly, and was wont to study with suchfond, tender scrutiny. 

"Mamma, dear mamma, what is wrong?" she asked. 

"A sad accident, daughter, " Elsie answered, her voice faltering withemotion, "poor grandpa and Aunt Enna have been badly hurt. "

"Our dear grandpa, mamma?" they all asked, lips and voices tremulous withgrief. 

"No, darlings, not my own dear father, " the mother answered, with a heartfull of gratitude that it was not he, "but our poor old grandfather wholives at Roselands. "

"My dear little wife, you are too much overcome to talk any more justnow, " Mr. Travilla said, wheeling an easy-chair to the fire, seating herin it, and removing her hat and cloak, with all the tender gallantry ofthe days when he wooed and won his bride; "let me tell it. " He took a seatnear her side, lifted "bit Herbie" to his knee, and with the othersgathered close about him, briefly told how the accident had happened, andthat he and their mother had met a messenger coming to acquaint them withthe disaster, and summon them to Roselands; then gave the children someidea of the present situation of their injured relations. 

When he had finished, and his young hearers had expressed their sorrow andsympathy for the sufferers, a moment of silence ensued, broken by littleElsie. 

"Mamma, who will take care of them?"

"God, " said Herbert, "won't he, papa?"

"But I mean who will nurse them while they are sick, " said Elsie. 

"My father will take care of grandpa, " Mrs. Travilla answered, "UncleHorace and papa helping when needed. "

"And Aunt Enna, mamma?"

"Well, daughter, who do you think should nurse her? Aunt Louise is away, Aunt Lora sick herself, grandma at Ashlands with Aunt Sophie and her sickchildren. "

"Oh, mamma, it won't have to be you, will it?" the child asked almostimploringly. 

"Oh, mamma, no; how could we do without you?" chimed in the others, Herbert adding tearfully, "Mamma stay wis us; we tan't do wisout you. "

They left their father to cluster about and cling to her, with caressesand entreaties. 

"My darlings, " she said, returning their endearments, "can you not feelwilling to spare your mother for a little while to poor, suffering AuntEnna?"

"Mamma, they have plenty of servants"

"Yes, Vi, but she is so very ill that we cannot hope she will get wellwithout more careful, tender nursing than any servant would give her. "

"Mamma, it will be very hard to do without you. "

"And very hard for me to stay away from my dear children; but what doesthe Bible say? Seek your own pleasure and profit, and let others takecare of themselves?"

"Oh, mamma, no! 'Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself. '"

"'Do good to them that hate you, '" quoted Eddie in an undertone. 

"But we were not speaking of enemies, my son, " his mother said insurprise. 

"I think Aunt Enna is your enemy, mamma; I think she hates you, " he said, with flashing eyes, "for I've many a time heard her say very hatefulthings to you. Mamma, don't look so sorry at me; how can I help beingangry at people that say unkind things to you?"

"'Forgive, and you shall be forgiven, '" she said gently. "'Do good andlend. ' Can't you lend your mother for a few weeks, dears?"

"Weeks, mamma! oh, so long!" they cried. "How can we? who will take careof us, and hear our lessons and teach us to be good?"

"Dinah will wash and dress you, Elsie help you little ones to learn yourlessons, and I think papa, " looking at him, "will hear you recite. "

"Yes, " he said, smiling on them, "we will do our best, so that dear mammamay not be anxious and troubled about us in addition to all the care andanxiety for the suffering ones at Roselands. "

"Yes, papa, " they answered, returning his smile half tearfully; thenquestioned their mother as to when she must go, and whether they shouldsee her at all while Aunt Enna was sick. 

"I can wait only long enough to take supper with you, and have our talktogether afterward, " she said, "because I am needed at Roselands. Perhapspapa will bring you there sometimes to see me for a little while if youwill be very quiet. And it may be only for a few days that I shall bewanted there; we cannot tell about that yet. "

She spoke cheerfully, but it cost her an effort because of the grieved, troubled looks on the dear little faces. 

"But baby, mamma!" cried Vi, "baby can't do without you!"

"No, dear, she and mammy will have to go with me. "

They were not the usual merry party at the tea-table, and a good manytears were shed during the talk with mamma afterward. 

They all consented to her going, but the parting with her, and the thoughtof doing without her for "so long" were the greatest trials they had everknown. 

She saw all the younger ones in bed, kissed each one good-night, andreminding them that their heavenly Father was always with them, and thatshe would not be too far away to come at once to them if needed, she leftthem to their sleep. 

Elsie followed her mother to her dressing-room, watched for everyopportunity to assist in her preparations for her absence. They were notmany, and with some parting injunctions to this little daughter and theservants, she announced herself ready to go. 

Elsie clung to her with tears at the last, as they stood together in thelower hall waiting for the others. 

"Mamma, what shall I do without you? I've never been away from you a wholeday in all my life. "

"No, dearest, but be my brave, helpful little girl. You must try to fillmother's place to the little ones. I shall not be far away, you know, andyour dear father will be here nearly all the time. And don't forget, darling, that your best Friend is always with you. "

"No, mamma, " said the child, smiling through her tears; "it is so sweet toknow that; and please don't trouble about us at home. I'll do my best forpapa and the children. "

"That is right, daughter, you are a very great comfort to me now andalways, " the mother said, with a last caress, as her husband joined herand gave her his arm to lead her to the carriage. 

"Don't come out in the cold, daughter, " he said, seeing the child about tofollow. 

Mammy had just come down with the sleeping babe in her arms, warmlywrapped up to shield her from the cold. 

Elsie sprang to her side, lifted the veil that covered the little face, and softly touched her lips to the delicate cheek. "Good-bye, babydarling. Oh, mammy, we'll miss her sadly and you too. "

"Don't fret, honey, 'spect we all be comin' back soon, " Aunt Chloewhispered, readjusting the veil, and hurrying after her mistress. 

Elsie flew to the window, and watched the carriage roll away down theavenue, till lost to sight in the darkness, tears trembling in her eyes, but a thrill of joy mingling with her grief: "it was so sweet to be acomfort and help to dear mamma. "

She set herself to considering how she might be the same to her father andbrothers and sister; what she could do now. 

She remembered that her father was very fond of music and that her motheroften played and sang for him in the evenings. He had said he wouldprobably return in an hour, and going to the piano she spent theintervening time in the diligent practice of a new piece of music he hadbrought her a day or two before. 

At sound of the carriage wheels she ran to meet him, her face bright withwelcoming smiles. 

"My little sunbeam, " he said taking her in his arms; "you have beennothing but a comfort and blessing to your mother and me, since the dayyou were born. "

"Dear papa, how kind in you to tell me that!" she said, her cheek flushingand her eyes glistening with pleasure. 

He kept her with him till after her usual hour for retiring, listening to, and praising her music and talking with her quite as if she were fit to bea companion for him. 

Both the injured ones were very ill for some weeks, but by means ofcompetent medical advice and careful nursing, their lives were saved; yetneither recovered entirely from the effects of the accident. Mr. Dinsmorewas feeble and ailing, and walked with a limp for the rest of his days, and Enna, though her bodily health was quite restored, rose from her bedwith an impaired intellect, her memory gone, her reasoning powers scarcelyequal to those of an ordinary child of five or six. 

She did not recognize her children, or indeed any one; she had everythingto relearn and went back to childish amusements, dolls, baby-houses andother toys. 

The sight was inexpressibly painful to Dick and Molly, far worse thanfollowing her to her grave. 

She remained at her father's, a capable and kind woman being provided totake constant charge of her, while Bob and Betty stayed on at the Oaks, their uncle and aunt bringing them up with all the care and kindnessbestowed upon their own children; and Dick and Molly made their home atIon. 

The latter was removed thither as soon as the danger to her mother's lifewas past, the change being considered only temporary at the time; thoughafterward it was decided to make it permanent, in accordance with the kindand generous invitation of Mr. And Mrs. Travilla to her and her brother, and their offer to become responsible for the education and presentsupport of both. 

Little Elsie, bravely and earnestly striving to fill her mother's place inthe household, making herself companionable to her father, helping Eddie, Vi and Harold with their lessons, comforting Herbie when his baby heartached so sorely with its longing for mamma, and in all his little griefsand troubles, and settling the slight differences that would sometimesarise between the children or the servants, found Molly an additionalburden; for she too must be cheered and consoled and was often fretful, unreasonable and exacting. 

Still the little girl struggled on, now feebly and almost ready todespair, now with renewed hope and courage gathered from an interview withher earthly or her heavenly Father. 

Mr. Travilla was very proud of the womanly way in which she acquittedherself at this time, her diligence, utter unselfishness, patience, andthoughtfulness for others, and did not withhold the meed of well earnedpraise; this with his advice and sympathy did much to enable her topersevere to the end. 

But oh what relief and joy when at last the dear mother was restored tothem and the unaccustomed burden lifted from the young shoulders!

It would have been impossible to say who rejoiced most heartily in thereunion, father, mother or children. But every heart leaped lightly, everyface was bright with smiles. 

Mrs. Travilla knew she was adding greatly to her cares, and to theannoyances and petty trials of every day life, in taking Dick andespecially Molly into her family, but she realized it more and more as themonths and years rolled on; both had been so spoiled by Enna's unwise andcapricious treatment, that it was a difficult thing to control them; andpoor Molly's sad affliction caused her frequent fits of depression whichrendered her a burden to herself and to others; also she inherited to someextent, her mother's infirmities of temper, and her envy, jealousy andunreasonableness made her presence in the family a trial to her youngcousins. 

The mother had to teach patience, meekness and forbearance by precept andexample, ever holding up as the grand motive, love to Jesus, and a desireto please and honor him. 

Such constant sowing of the good seed, such patient, careful weeding outof the tares, such watchfulness and prayerfulness as Elsie bestowed uponthe children God had given her, could not fail of their reward from himwho has said, "Whatsoever a man soweth, that shall he also reap"; and asthe years rolled on she had the unspeakable joy of seeing her darlings oneafter another gathered into the fold of the Good Shepherd;--consecratingthemselves in the dew of their youth to the service of him who had lovedthem and washed them from their sins in his own blood. 

She was scarcely less earnest and persistent in her efforts to promote thewelfare, temporal and spiritual, of Molly and Dick. She far more thansupplied the place of the mother now almost worse than lost to them. 

They had always liked and respected her; they soon learned to love herdearly and grew happier and more lovable under the refining, elevatinginfluence of her conduct and conversation. 

She and her husband gave to both the best advantages for education thatmoney could procure, aroused in them the desire, and stimulated them toearnest efforts to become useful members of society. 

Elsie soon discovered that one grand element of Molly's depression was thethought that she was cut off from all the activities of life and doomed, by her sad affliction, to be a useless burden upon others. 

"My poor dear child!" she said clasping the weeping girl in her arms, "that would be a sad fate indeed, but it need not be yours; there are manywalks of usefulness still open to you; literature, several of the arts andsciences, music, painting, authorship; to say nothing of needle work bothplain and fancy. The first thing will be a good education in the ordinaryacceptation of the term--and that you can take as easily as one who hasuse of all her limbs. Books and masters shall be at your command, and whenyou have decided to what employment you will especially devote yourself, every facility shall be given you for perfecting yourself in it. "

"O Cousin Elsie, " cried the girl, her eyes shining, "do you think I couldever write books, or paint pictures? I mean such as would be really worththe doing; such as would make Dick proud of me and perhaps give me moneyto help him with; because you know the poor fellow must make his own wayin the world. "

"I scarcely know how to answer that question, " Elsie said, smiling at hersudden enthusiasm, "but I do know that patience and perseverance will dowonders, and if you practice them faithfully, it will not surprise me tosee you some day turn out a great author or artist. 

"But don't fret because Dick has not a fortune to begin with. Our verynoblest and most successful men have been those who had to win their wayby dint of hard and determined struggling with early disadvantages. 'Youngtrees root the faster for shaking!'" she added with a smile. 

"Oh then Dick will succeed, I know, dear, noble fellow!" cried Mollyflushing with sisterly pride. 

From that time she took heart and though there were occasional returns ofdespondency and gloom she strove to banish them and was upon the whole, brave, cheerful and energetic in carrying out the plans her cousin hadsuggested. 

CHAPTER SIXTEENTH. 

 "It is as if the night should shade noonday, Or that the sun was here, but forced away; And we were left, under that hemisphere, Where we must feel it dark for half a year. " --BEN. JOHNSON. 

Since the events recorded in our last chapter, six years have rolled theirswift, though noiseless round, ere we look in upon our friends again; sixyears bringing such changes as they must;--growth and development to thevery young, a richer maturity, a riper experience to those who had alreadyattained to adult life, and to the aged, increasing infirmities, remindingthem that their race is nearly run; it may be so with others; it must beso with them. 

There have been gains and losses, sickness and other afflictions, butdeath has not yet entered any of their homes. 

At Ion, the emerald, velvety lawn, the grand old trees, the sparklinglakelet, the flower gardens and conservatories gay with rich autumn hues, were looking their loveliest, in the light of a fair September morning. 

The sun was scarcely an hour high, and except in the region of thekitchen and stables quiet reigned within and without the mansion; doorsand windows stood wide open, and servants were busied here and therecleaning and setting in order for the day, but without noise or bustle. Inthe avenue before the front entrance, stood Solon with the pretty greyponies, Prince and Princess, ready saddled and bridled, while on theveranda sat a tall, dark-eyed, handsome youth, a riding whip in one hand, the other gently stroking and patting the head of Bruno, as it rested onhis knee; the dog receiving the caress with demonstrations of delight. 

A light, springing step passed down the broad stairway, crossed the hall, and a slender fairy-like form appeared in the doorway. It was Violet, nowthirteen, and already a woman in height; though the innocent childliketrust in the sweet fair face and azure eyes, told another tale. 

"Good-morning, Eddie, " she said. "I am sorry to have kept you waiting. "

"Oh, good-morning, " he cried, jumping up and turning toward her. "No needfor apology, Vi, I've not been here over five minutes. "

He handed her gallantly to the saddle, then mounted himself. 

"Try to cheer up, little sister; one should not be sad such a lovelymorning as this, " he said, as they trotted down the avenue side by side. 

"Oh, Eddie, " she answered, with tears in her voice, "I do try, but Ican't yet; it isn't like home without them. "

"No; no indeed, Vi; how could it be? Mr. And Mrs. Daly are very kind, yetnot in the least like our father and mother; but it would be impossiblefor any one to take their places in our hearts or home. "

"The only way to feel at all reconciled, is to keep looking forward to thedelight of seeing them return with our darling Lily well and strong, " Visaid, struggling bravely with her tears; and Eddie answered, "I cannothelp hoping that may be, in spite of all the discouraging things thedoctors have said. "

Lily, always frail and delicate, had drooped more and more during the pastyear, and only yesterday the parents had left with her for the North, intending to try the effect of different watering places, in the fainthope that the child might yet be restored to health, or her life at leastbe prolonged for a few years. 

They had taken with them their eldest daughter, and infant son, andseveral servants. 

Aunt Chloe and Uncle Joe were not of the party, increasing infirmitiescompelling them to stay behind. 

The separation from her idolized mistress, cost the former many tears, butshe was much comforted by Elsie's assurance, that to have her at home towatch over the children there, would be a great comfort and relief fromanxiety on their account. 

It had seemed to Mr. And Mrs. Travilla, a very kind Providence that hadsent them an excellent tutor and housekeeper, in the persons of Mr. AndMrs. Daly, their former guests at Viamede. 

Since the winter spent together there, an occasional correspondence hadbeen kept up between the two families, and learning from it, that Mr. Dalywas again in need of a change of climate, and that, just as they werecasting about for some suitable persons to take charge of their house andchildren during their contemplated absence from home, Elsie suggested toher husband that the situations should be offered to him and his wife. 

Mr. Travilla approved, the offer was made at once, and promptly andthankfully accepted. 

Frank Daly, now a fine lad of eleven, was invited to come with hisparents, and to share his father's instructions. 

They had now been in the house for more than a week, and seemed eminentlysuited to the duties they had undertaken; yet home was sadly changed tothe children, deprived for the first time in their lives of the parentswhom they so dearly loved, and who so thoroughly understood andsympathized with them. 

Eddie was growing very manly, was well advanced in his studies, easy andpolished in manner, and Vi and the younger ones looked up to him withpride and respect, as the big brother who knew a great deal, and in papa'sabsence would be their leader and protector. 

He, on his part was fond and proud of them all, but more especially ofElsie and Vi, who grew daily in beauty and grace. 

"You can't think how sorely I have missed Elsie this morning, " Vi said, breaking a slight pause in their talk, "and yet I am glad she went too, she will be such a comfort to mamma and Lily; and she promised me to writeevery day; which of course mamma could not find time to do. "

"Yes; and her absence will give you an opportunity for practice in thatline, and in being motherly to Rosie, " Eddie said with a smile. 

"To Herbie too, " she answered; "we are to meet in mamma's dressing-roomevery morning just as usual, only it will be a strange half hour withoutmamma; but we will say our texts to each other, talk them over and readtogether. "

"Yes, I promised mamma that I would be with you. Which way now?" he asked, as they came to the crossroads. 

"To the Oaks. I want to see grandpa. A caress, or even a word or smilefrom him, would do me good this morning. "

"He may not be up. "

"But I think he will; you know he likes to keep early hours. "

Mr. Dinsmore was up and pacing the veranda thoughtfully to and fro, as theyoung riders came in sight. 

He welcomed them with a smile, and lifting Vi from her pony, held herclose to his heart as something very dear and precious. 

"My darling, " he said, "your face is sad this morning; and no wonder. Yetcheer up, we will hope to see our dear travelers at home again in a fewweeks, our poor fading flower restored to bloom and beauty. "

He made them sit down and regale themselves with some fine fresh oranges, which he summoned a servant to bring; their grandma, aunt and uncle joinedthem presently and they were urged to stay to breakfast, but declined. "The little ones must not be left alone this first morning without papaand mamma. "

On their return Rosie, a merry, healthy, romping child of five, with arich creamy complexion, dark hair and eyes, forming a strong contrast toVi's blonde beauty, came bounding to meet them. 

"O, Vi, I've been wanting you! you'll have to be mamma to us now, youknow, till our real own mamma comes back. And, Eddie, you'll have to bethe papa. Won't he, Vi? Come, let's all go to mamma's dress-room; my verseis ready. "

"What is your text, Rosie?" Violet asked when they had reached the room, sitting down and drawing the child to her side. 

"Take me on your lap like mamma does and I'll say it. "

"Now then, " Vi said, complying with the request. 

"'When my father and my mother forsake me then the Lord will take me up. '"

"Who taught you that, pet?" asked Vi, with a slight tremble in her lowsweet tones. 

"Cousin Molly. I was crying for mamma and papa and she called me in thereand told me I mustn't cry, 'cause Jesus loves me and will never, never goaway from me. "

"That's like my text, " said Herbert. "Mamma gave it to me for to-day. 'Iwill never leave thee, nor forsake thee. '"

"And mine, " said Harold, "Lo, I am with you always, even unto the end ofthe world, '"

"'This God is our God forever and ever; he will be our guide even untodeath, '" repeated Vi feelingly. 

"That's a nice one, " said Rosie. 

"Yes, " said Eddie, "and this is a nice one for us to remember just now inconnection with the dear ones on their journey, and for ourselves when wego away. Yes, now, and at all times. 'Behold I am with thee, and will keepthee in all places whither thou goest, and will bring thee again into thisland. '"

"Isn't the Bible the sweetest book!" exclaimed Vi, "the Book of books; ithas a comforting word for everybody and every time of need. "

The breakfast bell rang. 

"Oh, dear!" cried Rosie clinging to Violet, her bosom heaving with sobs, "how can we go to the table and eat without papa and mamma!"

"Don't cry, little pet, don't cry; you know they want us to be cheerfuland make it pleasant for Mr. And Mrs. Daly, " the others said, and with agreat effort the child swallowed her sobs; then wiping away her tears, suffered Vi to lead her down to the breakfast room. 

Mrs. Daly met them there with a smiling face, and kind motherly greeting. Mr. Daly had a pleasant word for each, and talked so entertainingly allthrough the meal, that they had scarcely time for sad or lonely thoughts. 

Family worship followed immediately after breakfast, as was the custom ofthe house. Mr. Daly's prayer was short, comforting them all, and simpleenough for even little Rose to understand. 

There was still time for a walk before school, but first Vi went to Mollyto ask how she was, and to carry her a letter from Dick which had come bythe morning mail. 

Dick was in Philadelphia studying medicine. He and Molly correspondedregularly and she knew no greater treat than a letter from him. Vi wasglad she could carry it to her this morning, it was so great a pleasureto be the bearer of anything so welcome. 

There were no pleasanter or better furnished rooms in the house than thoseappropriated to the use of the poor, dependent crippled cousin. Mollyherself tastefully and becomingly dressed, blooming, bright and cheerful, sat in an invalid chair by the open window. She was reading, and soabsorbed in her book that she did not hear the light step of her youngrelative. 

Vi paused in the doorway a moment, thinking what a pretty picture Mollymade--with her intellectual countenance, clear complexion, rosy cheeks, bright eyes and glossy braids--framed in by the vine-wreathed window. 

Molly looked up, and laying aside her book, "Ah, Vi, this is kind!" shesaid. "Come in, do; I'm ever so glad to see you. "

"And what of this?" asked Vi, holding up the letter. 

"Oh, delightful! dear old fellow, to write so soon. I was not expecting ittill to-morrow. "

"I knew you'd be glad, " Vi said, putting it into her hand, "and now I'lljust kiss you good-morning and run away, that you may enjoy it fullybefore lesson time. "

Rosie's voice was summoning Vi. The children were in the veranda ready fortheir morning walk, waiting only for "Sister Vi. "

"Let's go to the Oaks, " said Rosie, slipping her hand into Vi's; "it's anice shady walk, and I like to throw pebbles into the water. But I'll feedthe fishes first. See what a bag full of crumbs mammy has given me. "

Violet was very patient and indulgent toward the little pet sister, yetobliged to cut short her sport with the pebbles and the fishes, becausethe hour for lessons drew near. 

CHAPTER SEVENTEENTH. 

 "The lilies faintly to the roses yield, As on thy lovely cheek they struggling vie, And thoughts are in thy speaking eyes revealed, Pure as the fount the prophet's rod unseal'd. " --HOFFMAN. 

"Dr. Arthur lef' dis for you, Miss Wi'let, " said one of the maids, meetingher young mistress on the veranda and handing her a note. 

"Cousin Arthur? was he here?"

"Yes, miss. He axed for you, but hadn't no time to stop, not even to seepo' Miss Molly. 'Spect somebody's mighty sick. "

Arthur Conly had entered the medical profession, and for the last twoyears had been practicing in partnership with Dr. Barton. 

Vi glanced over the note and hastened to Eddie, whom she found in theschoolroom, its only occupant at the moment. 

"Here's a note from Isa, asking me to bring Rosie and come to Roselandsfor the rest of the day, after lessons are done. She thinks I must feellonely. It is very kind, but what shall I do about it? Rosie would enjoygoing, but would it be kind to you or the boys, or Molly?"

"I might take the boys over to the Oaks, but I don't know--oh, I thinkMolly would probably prefer solitude, as I happen to know that she hassome writing to do. Well, what now?" seeing a hesitating, perplexed lookon Vi's face. 

"I cannot ask permission of papa or mamma. "

"No, of course not; we must go to Mr. Daly for that now. "

"I don't like it, " she answered coloring; "it does seem as if nobody hasthe right to control us except our father and mother, and ourgrandparents. "

"Only that they have given him the right for the present. "

Mr. Daly came in at that instant, and Vi, placing the note in his hand, said "Will you please to look at this, sir, and tell me if I may acceptthe invitation?"

"I see no objection, " he said, returning it with a kindly smile, "providedyour lessons are well recited. "

Mr. Daly was an excellent teacher, thoroughly prepared for his work byeducation, native talent for imparting the knowledge he possessed, lovefor the employment and for the young creatures entrusted to his care. 

The liking was mutual, and study hours were soon voted only less enjoyablethan when mamma was their loved instructress. 

Molly occupied her place in the schoolroom as regularly as the others. Itadjoined her apartments, and her wheeled chair required a very slightexertion of strength on the part of friend or servant to propel it fromroom to room. 

Molly had already made herself a very thorough French and German scholar, and was hoping to turn her ability to translate to good account in the wayof earning her own support; for there was no pauper instinct in the girl'snoble nature, and able and willing as her cousin was to support her, shegreatly preferred to earn her own living, though at the cost of muchwearisome labor of hand and brain. 

She was not of those who seem to forget that the command, "Six days shaltthou labor and do all thy work, " is equally binding with that other, "Init (the seventh day) thou shalt not do any work, " This lesson--thatindustry is commanded, idleness forbidden--was one which Elsie had everbeen careful to instil into the minds of her children from their earliestinfancy; nor was it enough, she taught them, that they should be doingsomething, they must be usefully employed, remembering that they were butstewards who must one day give an account to their Lord of all they haddone with the talents entrusted to them. 

"Is Dick well? was it a nice letter?" Violet asked, leaning over hercousin's chair when lessons were done. 

"Oh very nice! he's well and doing famously, I must answer it thisafternoon. "

"Then you will not care for company?"

"Not particularly. Why?"

Vi told of her invitation. 

"Go, by all means, " said Molly. "You know Virgy has a friend with her, aMiss Reed. I want you to see her and tell me what she's like. "

"I fear you'll have to see her yourself to find that out; I'm no portraitpainter, " Violet said with a smile as she ran lightly away to order thecarriage and see to her own toilet and Rosie's. 

They were simple enough; white dresses with blue sash and ribbons for Vi, ditto of pink for Rosie. 

Miss Reed, dressed in a stiff silk and loaded with showy jewelry, sat inthe drawing-room at Roselands in a bay-window overlooking the avenue. Shewas gazing eagerly toward its entrance, as though expecting some one. 

"Yes, I've heard of the Travillas, " she said in answer to a remark fromVirginia Conly who stood by her side almost as showily attired as herself, "I've been told she was a great heiress. "

"She was; and he was rich too; though I believe he lost a good deal duringthe war. "

"They live splendidly, I suppose?"

"They've everything money can buy, but are nearly breaking their heartsjust now, over one of their little girls who seems to have some incurabledisease. "

"Is that so? Well, they ought to have some trouble as well as otherfolks. I'm sorry though; for I'd set my heart on being invited there andseeing how they live. "

"Oh they're all gone away except Vi and Rosie and the boys. But may be Viwill ask us there to dinner or tea. Ah here they come!"

"What splendid match horses! What an elegant carriage!" exclaimed MissReed, as a beautiful barouche, drawn by a pair of fine bays, came bowlingup the avenue. 

"Yes, they've come, it's the Ion carriage. "

"But that's a young lady Pomp's handing out of it!" exclaimed Miss Reedthe next moment, "and I thought you said it was only two children youexpected. "

"Yes, Vi's only thirteen, " answered Virginia running to the door to meether. "Vi, my dear, how good in you to come. How sweet you look!" kissingher. "Rosie too, " bestowing a caress upon her also, "pink's so becoming toyou, little pet, and blue equally so to Vi. This is my friend Miss Reed, Vi, I've been telling her about you. "

Violet gave her hand, then drew back blushing and slightly disconcerted bythe almost rude stare of the black eyes that seemed to be taking aninventory of her personal appearance and attire. 

"Where is Isa?" she asked. 

"Here, and very glad to see you, Vi, " answered a silvery voice, and atall, queenly looking girl of twenty, in rustling black silk and withroses in her hair and at her throat, took Violet's hands in hers andkissed her on both cheeks, then letting her go, saluted the little one inlike manner. 

"Why don't you do that to me? guess I like kisses as well as other folks, ha! ha!" cried a shrill voice, and a little withered up, faded woman witha large wax doll in her arms, came skipping into the room. 

Her hair, plentifully sprinkled with grey, hung loosely about her neck, and she had bedizened herself with ribbons and faded artificial flowers ofevery hue. 

"Well, Griselda, " she continued, addressing the doll, which she dandled inher arms, regarding it with a look of fond admiration, "we don't care, dowe, dear? We love and embrace one another, and that's enough. "

"Oh, go back to your own room, " said Virginia in a tone of annoyance, "wedon't want you here. "

"I'll go when I get ready, and not a minute sooner, " was the rejoinder ina pettish tone. "Oh, here's visitors! what a pretty little girl! what'syour name, little girl? Won't you come and play with me? I'll lend youGrimalkin, my other wax doll. She's a beauty; almost as pretty asGriselda. Now don't get mad at that, Grissy, dear, " kissing the doll againand again. 

Rose was frightened and clung to her sister, trying to hide behind her. 

"It's Aunt Enna; she won't hurt you, " whispered Vi; "she never hurts anyone unless she is teased or worried into a passion. "

"Won't she make me go with her! oh, don't let her, Vi. "

"No, dear, you shall stay with me. And here is the nurse come to take heraway, " Violet answered, as the poor lunatic was led from the room by herattendant. 

"Dear me!" exclaimed Miss Reed, who had not seen or heard of Enna before, turning to Virginia, "does she belong in the house? aren't you afraid ofher?"

"Not at all; she is perfectly harmless. She is my mother's sister, andlost her reason some years ago, by an accidental injury to the head. "

"I wonder you don't send her to an asylum. "

"Perhaps it might be as well, " returned Virginia indifferently, "but it'snot my affair. "

"Grandpa would never hear of such a thing!" said Isadore, indignantly. 

"Mamma would not either, I am sure, " said Violet. "Poor Aunt Enna! shouldshe be sent away from all who love her, just because she is unfortunate?"

"Every one to their taste, " remarked the visitor, shrugging her shoulders. 

Vi inquired for her Aunt Louise and the younger members of the family, andwas told that they and the grandfather were spending the day atPinegrove. 

"I was glad they decided to go to-day, " said Isadore, seating Vi andherself comfortably on a sofa, then taking Rose on her lap and caressingher, "because I wanted you here, and to have you to myself. You see thesetwo young ladies, " glancing smilingly at her sister and guest, "are sofully taken up with each other, that for the most of the time I am quite_detrop_, and must look for entertainment elsewhere than in theirsociety. "

"Yes, " said Virginia, with more candor than politeness, "Josie and I areall sufficient for each other; are we not, _mon amie_?"

"Very true, _machère_, yet I enjoy Isa's company, and am extremelydelighted to have made the acquaintance of your charming cousin, " remarkedMiss Reed, with an insinuating bow directed to Violet. 

"You do not know me yet, " said Vi, modestly. "Though so tall, I am only alittle girl and do not know enough to make an interesting companion for ayoung lady. "

"Quite a mistake, Vi, " said Isadore rising. "But there is the dinner-bell. Come let us try the soothing and exhilarating effect of food and drinkupon our flagging spirits. We will not wait for Art; there's no knowingwhen he can leave his patients; and Cal's away on business. "

On leaving the table, Isadore carried off her young cousins to her ownapartments. Rose was persuaded to lie down and take a nap, while theolder girls conversed together in an adjoining room. 

"Isn't it delightful to be at home again, after all those years in theconvent?" queried Vi. 

"I enjoy home, certainly, " replied Isa, "yet I deeply regretted leavingthe sisters; for you cannot think how good and kind they were to me. ShallI tell you about it? about my life there?"

"Oh, do! I should so like to hear it. "

Isadore smiled at the eager tone, the bright interested look, and at oncebegan a long and minute description of the events of her school-days atthe nunnery, ending with a eulogy upon convent life in general, and thenuns who had been her educators, in particular. "They lived such holy, devoted lives, were so kind, so good, so self-denying. "

Violet listened attentively, making no remark, but Isadore readdisapproval more than once in her speaking countenance. 

"I wish your mamma would send you and Elsie there to finish, " remarkedIsa, breaking the pause which followed the conclusion of her narrative. "Should you not like to go?"

"No, oh no, no!"

"Why not?"

"Isa, I could never, _never_ do some of those things you say theyrequire--bow to images or pictures, or kneel before them, or join inprayers or hymns to the Virgin. "

"I don't know how you could be so wicked as to refuse. She is the queenof Heaven and mother of God. "

"Isa!" and Violet looked inexpressibly shocked. 

"You can't deny it. Wasn't Jesus God?"

"Yes; he is God. 'In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was withGod, and the Word was God. ' 'And the Word was made flesh, and dwelt amongus. '"

"Ah! and was not the Virgin Mary his mother?'"

Vi looked perplexed for a moment, then brightening, "Ah, I know now, '" shesaid, "Jesus was God and man both. '"

"Well?"

"And--mamma told me--Mary was the mother of his human nature only, and itis blasphemous to call her the mother of God; and to do her homage isidolatry. "

"So I thought before I went to the convent, " said Isadore, "but thesisters convinced me of my error. Vi, I should like to show you something. Can you keep a secret?"

"I have never had a secret from mamma; I do not wish to have any. "

"But you can't tell her everything now while she's away, and this concernsno one but myself. I know I can trust to your honor, " and taking Vi'shand, she opened a door and drew her into a large closet, lighted by asmall circular window quite high up in the wall. The place was fitted upas an oratory, with a picture of the Virgin and child, and a crucifix, standing on a little table with a prayer-book and rosary beside it. 

Vi had never seen such things, but she had heard of them and knew whatthey signified. Glancing from the picture to the crucifix, she startedback in horror, and without a word hastily retreated to the dressing-room, where she dropped into a chair, pale, trembling and distressed. 

"Isadore, Isadore!" she cried, clasping her hands, and lifting hertroubled eyes to her cousin's face, "have you--have you become a papist?"

"I am a member of the one true church, " returned her cousin coldly. "Howbigoted you are, Violet. I could not have believed it of so sweet andgentle a young thing as you. I trust you will not consider it your duty tobetray me to mamma?"

"Betray you? can you think I would? So Aunt Louise does not know? Oh, Isa, can you think it right to hide it from her--your own mother?"

"Yes; because I was directed to do so by my father confessor, and becausemy motive is a good one, and 'the end sanctifies the means. '"

"Isa, mamma has taught me, and the Bible says it too, that it is neverright to do evil that good may come. "

"Perhaps you and your mamma do not always understand the real meaning ofwhat the Bible says. It must be that many people misunderstand it, elsewhy are there so many denominations of Protestants, teaching oppositedoctrines, and all professing to get them from the Bible?"

Violet in her extreme youth and want of information and ability to argue, was not prepared with an answer. 

"Does Virgy know?" she asked. 

"About my change of views and my oratory? Yes. "

"And does she----"

"Virgy is altogether worldly, and cares nothing for religion of any kind. "

Vi's face was full of distress; "Isa, " she said, "may I ask you aquestion?"

"What is it?"

"When you pray, do you kneel before that--that----"

"Crucifix? sometimes, at others before the Virgin and child. "

Vi shuddered. "O Isa, have you forgotten the second commandment? 'Thoushalt not make unto thee any graven image or any likeness of anything thatis in heaven above, or that is in the earth beneath, or that is in thewaters under the earth; thou shalt not bow down thyself to them nor servethem. '"

"I have not forgotten, but am content to do as the church directs, "returned Isadore, coldly. 

"Isa, didn't they promise Aunt Louise that they would not interfere withyour religion?"

"Yes. "

"And then broke their promise. How can you think they are good?"

"They did it to save my soul. Was not that a good and praiseworthymotive?"

"Yes; but if they thought it their duty to try to make you believe as theydo, they should not have promised not to do so. "

"But in that case I should never have been placed in the convent, and theywould have had no opportunity to labor for my conversion. "

Earnestly, constantly had Elsie endeavored to obey the command. "Thereforeshall ye lay up these my words in your heart and in your soul, and bindthem for a sign upon your hand, that they may be as frontlets between youreyes. And ye shall teach them to your children, speaking of them when thousittest in thy house, and when thou walkest by the way, when thou liestdown, and when thou risest up. "

Thus Violet's memory was stored with texts, and these words from Isaiahsuggested themselves as a fit comment upon Isadore's last remark. "Woeunto them that call evil good and good evil; that put darkness for lightand light for darkness; that put bitter for sweet and sweet for bitter. "

CHAPTER EIGHTEENTH. 

 "But all's not true that supposition saith, Nor have the mightiest arguments most faith. " --DRAYTON. 

 "Examples I could cite you more; But be contented with these four; For when one's proofs are aptly chosen, Four are as valid as four dozen. " --PRIOR. 

Isa's perversion, Isa's secret, weighed heavily upon the heart andconscience of poor Violet; the child had never been burdened with a secretbefore. 

She thought Aunt Louise ought to know, yet was not at all clear that itwas her duty to tell her. She wished it might be discovered in some waywithout her agency, for "it was a dreadful thing for Isa to be left to goon believing and doing as she did. Oh, if only she could be talked to bysome one old enough and wise enough to convince her of her errors!"

Isadore with the zeal of a young convert, had set herself the task ofbringing Vi over to her new faith. The opportunity afforded by the absenceof the vigilant parents was too good to be lost, and should be improved tothe utmost. 

She made daily errands to Ion, some trifling gift to Molly often being theexcuse, was sweet and gracious to all, but devoted herself especially toViolet, insisting on sharing her room when she staid over night, coaxingher out for long walks and drives, rowing with her on the lake, learningto handle the oars herself in order that they might go alone. 

And all the time she was on the watch for every favorable opening to saysomething to undermine the child's faith, or bias her mind in favor of thetenets of the church of Rome. 

Violet grew more and more troubled and perplexed and now not on Isa'saccount alone. She could not give up the faith of her fathers, the faithof the Bible (to that inspired word she clung as to the rock which mustsave her from being engulfed in the wild waters of doubt and difficultythat were surging around her) but neither could she answer all Isadore'squestions and arguments, and there was no one to whom she might turn inher bewilderment, lest she should betray her cousin's secret. 

She prayed for guidance and help, searching the Scriptures and "comparingspiritual things with spiritual, " and thus was kept from the snares laidfor her inexperienced feet; she stumbled and walked with uncertain stepfor a time, but did not fall. 

Those about her, particularly Eddie and her old mammy, noticed theunwonted care and anxiety in her innocent face, but attributed it whollyto the unfavorable news in regard to Lily's condition, which reached themfrom time to time. 

The dear invalid was reported as making little or no progress towardrecovery, and the hearts of brothers and sisters were deeply saddened bythe tidings. 

Miss Reed was still at Roselands, and had been brought several times byVirginia for a call at Ion, and at length, Violet having written for andobtained permission of her parents, and consulted Mrs. Daly's conveniencein reference to the matter, invited the three girls for a visit of severaldays, stipulating, however, that it was not to interfere with lessons. 

To this the girls readily assented; "they would make themselves quite athome, and find their own amusement; it was what they should like above allthings. "

The plan worked well, except that under this constant association withIsadore, Vi grew daily more careworn and depressed. Even Mr. Daly noticedit, and spoke to her of Lily's state as hopefully as truth would permit. 

"Do not be too much troubled, my dear child, " he said, taking her hand ina kind fatherly manner. "She is in the hands of One who loves her evenbetter than her parents, brothers and sisters do, and will let no realevil come nigh her. He may restore her to health, but if not--if he takesher from us, it will be to make her infinitely happier with himself; forwe know that she has given her young heart to him. "

Violet bowed a silent assent, then hurried from the room; her heart toofull for speech. She was troubled, sorely troubled for her darling, suffering little sister, and with this added anxiety, her burden was hardindeed to bear. 

Mr. Daly was reading in the library that afternoon, when Violet camerunning in as if in haste, a flush of excitement on her fair face. 

"Ah, excuse me, sir! I fear I have disturbed you, " she said, as he lookedup from his book; "but oh, I'm glad to find you here! for I think you willhelp me. I came to look for a Bible and Concordance. "

"They are both here on this table, " he said. "I am glad you are wantingthem, for we cannot study them too much. But in what can I help you, Vi?is it some theological discussion between your cousins and yourself?"

"Yes, sir; we were talking about a book--a story-book that Miss Reedadmires--and I said mamma would not allow us to read it, because itteaches that Jesus Christ was only a good man; and Miss Reed said that washer belief; and yet she professes to believe the Bible, and I wish to showher, that it teaches that he was very God as well as man. "

"That will not be difficult, " he said; "for no words could state it moredirectly and clearly than these, 'Christ, who is over all, God blessedforever. Amen, '" And opening the Bible at the ninth chapter of Romans, hepointed to the latter clause of the fifth verse. 

"Oh, let me show her that!" cried Vi. 

"Suppose you invite them in here, " he suggested, and she hastened to doso. 

Miss Reed read the text as it was pointed out to her, "I don't remembernoticing that before, " was all she said. 

Silently Mr. Daly turned over the leaves and pointed out the twentiethverse of the first Epistle of John, where it is said of Jesus Christ, "This is the true God and eternal life;" and then to Isaiah ix. 6. "Forunto us a child is born, unto us a son is given; and the government shallbe upon his shoulder; and his name shall be called Wonderful, Counsellor, the Mighty God, the Everlasting Father, the Prince of Peace, " and severalother passages equally strong and explicit in their declaration of thedivinity of Christ. 

"Well, " said Miss Reed, "if he was God, why didn't he say so?"

"He did again and again, " was the reply "Here John viii. 58--we read"Jesus said unto them, 'Verily, verily, I say unto you, Before Abrahamwas, I am. '""

"I don't see it!" she said sneeringly. 

"You do not? just compare it with this other passage Exodus iii. 14, 15. 'And God said unto Moses, I AM THAT I AM: and he said, Thus shalt thou sayunto the children of Israel, I AM _hath sent me unto you_. And God saidmoreover unto Moses, Thus shalt thou say unto the, the God of Abraham, theGod of Isaac, and the God of Jacob, hath sent me unto you; this ischildren of Israel, The Lord God of your fathers my name forever, and thisis my memorial unto all generations. ' The Jews who were present understoodthose words of Jesus as an assertion of his divinity and took up stones tocast at him. "

Isadore seemed interested in the discussion, but Virginia showed evidentimpatience. "What's the use of bothering ourselves about it?" sheexclaimed at length, "what difference does it make whether we believe inhis divinity or deny it?"

"A vast deal of difference, my dear young lady, " said Mr. Daly. "If Christbe not divine, it is idolatry to worship him. If he is divine, and we failto acknowledge it and to trust in him for salvation, we must be eternallylost for 'neither is there salvation in any other; for there is none othername under heaven given among men, whereby we must be saved. ' 'Butwhosoever believeth in him shall receive remission of sins. '"

Virginia fidgeted uneasily and Miss Reed inquired with affectedpoliteness, if that were all. 

"No, " he said, "far from it; yet if the Bible be--as I think we allacknowledge--the inspired word of God, one plain declaration of a truthis as authoritative as a dozen. "

"Suppose I don't believe it is all inspired?" queried Miss Reed. 

"Still, since Jesus asserts his own divinity, we must either accept him asGod, or believe him to have been an impostor and therefore not even a goodman. He must be to us everything or nothing; there is no neutral ground;he says, 'He that is not with me is against me. '"

"And there is only one true church, " remarked Isadore, forgetting herself;"the holy Roman Church, and none without her pale can be saved. "

Mr. Daly looked at her in astonishment. Violet was at first greatlystartled, then inexpressibly relieved; since Isa's secret being one nolonger, a heavy weight was removed from her heart and conscience. 

Virginia was the first to speak. "There!" she said, "you've let it outyourself; I always knew you would sooner or later. "

"Well, " returned Isadore, drawing herself up haughtily, determined to puta brave face upon the matter, now that there was no retreat, "I'm notashamed of my faith; nor afraid to attempt its defence against any who maysee fit to attack it, " she added with a defiant look at Mr. Daly. 

He smiled a little sadly. "I am very sorry for you, Miss Conly, " he said, "and do not feel at all belligerent toward you; but let me entreat you torest your hopes of salvation only upon the atoning blood and imputedrighteousness of Jesus Christ. "

"I must do good works also, " she said. 

"Yes as an evidence, but not as the ground of your faith; we must do goodworks not that we may be saved, but because we are saved. 'If a man loveme, he will keep my words. ' Well, my little Vi? what is it?" for she waslooking at him with eager, questioning eyes. 

"O, Mr. Daly, I want you to answer some things Isa has said to me. Isa, Ihave never mentioned it to any one before. I have kept your secretfaithfully, till now that you have told it yourself. "

"I don't blame you, Vi, " she answered coloring. "I presume I shall beblamed for my efforts to bring you over to the true faith, but myconscience acquits me of any bad motive. I wanted to save your soul. Mr. Daly, I do not imagine you can answer all that I have to bring against theclaims of Protestantism. Pray where was that church before theReformation?"

There was something annoying to the girl in the smile with which he heardher question. 

"Wherever the Bible was made the rule of faith and practice, " he said, "there was Protestantism though existing under another name. All throughthe dark ages, when Popery was dominant almost all over the civilizedworld, the light of a pure gospel--the very same that the Reformationspread abroad over other parts of Europe--burned brightly among thesecluded valleys of Piedmont; and twelve hundred years of bloodypersecution on the part of apostate Rome could not quench it. 

"I know that Popery lays great stress on her claims to antiquity, butPaganism is older still, and evangelical religion--which, as I havealready said, is Protestantism under another name--is as old as theChristian Era; as the human nature of its founder, the Lord Jesus Christ. "

"You are making assertions, " said Isadore bridling, "but where are yourproofs?"

"They are not wanting, " he said. "Suppose we undertake the study ofecclesiastical history together, and see how Popery was the growth ofcenturies, as one error after another crept into the Christian church. "

"I don't believe she was ever the persecutor you would make her out tohave been, " said Isadore. 

"Popish historians bear witness to it as well as Protestant, " he answered. 

"Well, it's persecution to bring up those old stories against her now. "

"Is it? when she will not disavow them, but maintains that she has alwaysdone right? and more than that, tells us she will do the same again ifever she has the power. "

"I'm sure all Romanists are not so cruel as to wish to torture or killtheir Protestant neighbors, " cried Isadore indignantly. 

"And I quite agree with you there, " he said; "I have not the least doubtthat many of them are very kind-hearted; but I was speaking, not ofindividuals, but of the Romish Church as such. She is essentially apersecuting power. "

"Well, being the only true church, she has the right to compel conformityto her creed. "

"Ah, you have already imbibed something of her spirit. But we contend thatshe is not the true church. 'To the law and to the testimony; if theyspeak not according to this word, it is because there is no light inthem. ' Brought to the touch-stone of God's revealed word, she is proved tobe reprobate silver; her creed spurious Christianity. In secondThessalonians, second chapter, we have a very clear description of her asthat 'Wicked whom the Lord shall consume with the spirit of his mouth, andshall destroy with the brightness of his coming. ' Also, in the seventeenthof Revelation, where she is spoken of as 'Babylon the great, the mother ofharlots and abominations of the earth. '"

"How do you know she is meant there?" asked Isadore, growing red andangry. 

"Because she, and she alone, answers to the description. It is computedthat fifty millions of Protestants have been slain in her persecutions;may it not then be truly said of her that she is drunken with the blood ofthe saints?"

"I think what you have been saying shows that the priests are right inteaching that the Bible is a dangerous book in the hands of the ignorant, and should therefore be withheld from the laity, " retorted Isadore hotly. 

"But, " returned Mr. Daly, "Jesus said, 'Search the Scriptures; for in themye think ye have eternal life; and they are they which testify of me. '"

CHAPTER NINETEENTH. 

 "Let us go back again mother, Oh, take me home to die. "

"And so, Isa, my uncle's predictions that your popish teachers wouldviolate their promise not to meddle with your faith, have proved only tootrue, " said Calhoun Conly, stepping forward, as Mr. Daly finished his lastquotation from the Scriptures. 

In the heat of their discussion, neither the minister nor Isadore hadnoticed his entrance, but he had been standing there, an interestedlistener, long enough to learn the sad fact of his sister's perversion. 

"They only did their duty, and I shall not have them blamed for it, " shesaid, haughtily. 

"They richly deserve blame, and you cannot prevent it from being giventhem, " he answered firmly, and with flashing eyes. "I have come, by mymother's request, to take you and Virginia home, inviting Miss Reed toaccompany us. "

"I am ready, " said Isadore, rising, the others doing likewise. 

"But you will stay to tea?" Violet said. "Cal, you are not in too greathaste for that?"

"I'm afraid I am, little cousin, " he answered with a smile ofacknowledgment of her hospitality. "I must meet a gentleman on business, half an hour from now. "

Vi expressed her regrets, and ran after the girls, who had already leftthe room to prepare for their drive. 

They seemed in haste to get away. 

"We've had enough of Mr. Daly's prosing about religion, " said Virginia. 

"I'm sick of it, " chimed in Miss Reed, "what difference does it make whatyou believe, if you're only sincere and live right?"

"'With the heart man believeth unto righteousness, '" said Violet; "and'the just shall live by faith. '"

"You're an apt pupil, " sneered Virginia. 

"It is mamma's doing that my memory is stored with texts, " returned thechild, reddening. 

Isadore was silent and gloomy, and took leave of her young cousin socoldly, as to quite sadden her sensitive spirit. 

Violet had enjoyed being made much of by Isa, who was a beautiful andbrilliant young lady, and this sudden change in her manner was far frompleasant. Still the pain it gave her was greatly overbalanced by therelief of having her perplexities removed, her doubts set at rest. 

Standing on the veranda, she watched the carriage as it rolled away downthe avenue, then hailed with delight a horseman who came galloping up, alighted and giving the bridle to Solon, turned to her with open arms, anda smile that proclaimed him the bearer of good tidings, before he uttereda word. 

"Grandpa, " she cried, springing to his embrace, "Oh, is Lily better?"

"Yes, " he said, caressing her, then turning to greet Rosie and the boys, who had come running at the sound of his voice. "I have had a letter fromyour mother, in which she says the dear invalid seems decidedly better. "

"Oh, joy! joy!" cried the children, Rosie hugging and kissing hergrandfather, the boys capering about in a transport of gladness. 

"And will they come home soon, grandpa?" asked Eddie. 

"Nothing is said about that, I presume they will linger at the North tillthe weather begins to grow too cool for Lily, " Mr. Dinsmore answered, shaking hands with Mr. Daly, who, hearing his voice on the veranda, stepped out to inquire for news of the absent ones. 

While they talked together, Vi ran away in search of Aunt Chloe. 

She found her on the back veranda, enjoying a chat with Aunt Dicey andUncle Joe. 

"Oh, mammy, good news! good news!" Vi cried, half breathless with hasteand happiness; "grandpa had a letter from mamma, and our darling Lily isbetter, much better. "

"Bress de Lord!" ejaculated her listeners in chorus. 

"Bress his holy name, I hope de chile am gwine to discover her healthagin, " added Uncle Joe. "I'se been a prayin' pow'ful strong for her. "

"'Spect der is been more'n you at dat business, Uncle Joe;" remarked AuntDicey, "'spect I knows one ole niggah dat didn't fail to disremember delittle darlin' at de throne ob grace. "

"De bressed lamb!" murmured Aunt Chloe, dropping a tear on Violet's goldencurls as she clasped her to her breast, "she's de Lord's own, and he'lltake de bes' care of her; in dis world and in de nex'; be sho' ob dat, honey. Ise mighty glad for her and my dear missus; and for you too MissWi'let. You's been frettin' yo' heart out 'bout Miss Lily. "

"I've been very anxious about her, mammy; and something else has beentroubling me too, but it's all right now, " Violet answered with a gladlook, then releasing herself, ran back to her grandfather. 

She had seen less than usual of him for several weeks past, and wanted anopportunity to pour out all her heart to him. 

He had gone up to Molly's sitting-room, and she followed him thither. 

With Rosie on his knee, Harold and Herbert standing on either side, andEddie sitting near, he was chatting gayly with his crippled niece, whowas as bright and cheery as any of the group, all of whom were full ofjoy over the glad tidings he had brought. 

"Grandpa, " said Vi, joining them, "it seems a good while since you werehere for more than a short call. Won't you stay now for the rest of theday?"

"Yes, and I propose that we drive down to the lake, Molly and all, andhave a row. I think it would do you all good. The weather is delightful. "

The motion was carried by acclamation, Molly's maid was summoned, Eddiewent down to order the carriage, and the rest scattered to prepare for theexpedition. 

It was a lovely October day, the air balmy, the woods gorgeous in theirrichly colored autumn robes; gold, scarlet and crimson, russet and greenmingled in gay profusion; the slanting beams of the descending sun fellathwart the lakelet, like a broad band of shimmering gold, and here andthere lent an added glory to the trees. The boat glided swiftly over therippling waters, now in sunshine, now in shadow, and the children hushedtheir merry clatter, silenced by the beauty and stillness of the scene. 

Tea was waiting when they returned, and on leaving the table the youngerones bade good-night, and went away with Vi to be put to bed. 

She had a story or some pleasant talk for them every night; doing herbest to fill mamma's place. 

Vi was glad to find her grandpa alone in the library when she came downagain. 

"Come, sit on my knee, as your dear mamma used to do at your age, " hesaid, "and tell me what you have been doing these past weeks while I haveseen so little of you. "

"It is so nice, " she said as she took the offered seat, and he passed hisarm about her, "so nice to have a grandpa to pet me; especially when I'veno father or mother at home to do it. "

"So we are mutually satisfied, " he said. "Now what have you to tell me?any questions to ask? any doubts or perplexities to be cleared away?"

"Grandpa, has anybody been telling you anything?" she asked. 

"No, nothing about you. "

"Then I'll just tell you all. " And she gave him a history of Isadore'sefforts to pervert her, and their effect upon her; also of theconversation of that afternoon, in which Mr. Daly had answered thequestions of Isadore, that had most perplexed and troubled her. 

Mr. Dinsmore was grieved and distressed by Isa's defection from theevangelical faith, and indignant at her attempt to lead Vi astray also. 

"Are you fully satisfied now on all the points?" he asked. 

"There are one or two things I should like to ask you about, grandpa, "she said. "Isa thinks a convent life so beautiful and holy, so shut outfrom the world, with all its cares and wickedness, she says; so quiet andpeaceful, so full of devotion and the self-denial the Lord Jesus taughtwhen he said, 'If any man will come after me, let him deny himself andtake up his cross and follow me. '

"Do you think leaving one's dear home and father and mother, and brothersand sisters to be shut up for life with strangers, in a convent, was thecross he meant, grandpa?"

"No, I am perfectly sure it was not; the Bible teaches us to do our dutyin the place where God puts us; it recognizes the family relationships;teaches the reciprocal duties of kinsmen, parents and children, husbandsand wives, but has not a word to say to monks or nuns. 

"It bids us take up the cross God lays upon us, and not one of our owninvention; nor did one of the holy men and women it tells of live the lifeof an anchorite. Nor can peace and freedom from temptation and sin befound in a convent any more than elsewhere; because we carry our evilnatures with us wherever we go. "

"No; peace and happiness are to be found only in being 'followers of Godas dear children, ' doing our duty in that station in life where he hasplaced us; our motive love to him; leading us to desire above all thingsto live to his honor and glory. "

Violet sat with downcast eyes, her face full of earnest thought. She wassilent for a moment after Mr. Dinsmore had ceased speaking, then liftingher head and turning to him with a relieved look, "Thank you, grandpa, "she said. "I am fully satisfied on that point. Now, there is just onemore. Isa says the divisions among Protestants show that the Bible is nota book for common people to read for themselves. They cannot understand itright; if they did they would all believe alike. "

Mr. Dinsmore smiled. "Who is to explain it?" he asked. 

"Oh, Isa says that is for the priests to do; and they and the people mustaccept the decisions of the church. "

"Well, my child, it would take too much time to tell you just howimpossible it is to find out what are the authoritative decisions of theRomish Church on more than one important point;--how one council wouldcontradict another--one pope affirm what his predecessors had denied, andvice versa; councils contradict popes, and popes councils. 

"As to the duty of studying the Bible for ourselves--we have the master'sown command, 'Search the Scriptures, ' which settles the question at oncefor all his obedient disciples. And no one who sets himself to the workhumbly and teachably, looking to the Holy Spirit for enlightenment, willfail to find the path to heaven. 'The way-faring men, though fools shallnot err therein. ' Jesus said 'The Comforter which is the Holy Ghost, whomthe Father will send in my name, he shall teach you all things. '

"And, my child, none of us is responsible for the interpretation that hisneighbor puts upon God's word, --his letter addressed to us all; each of usmust give account of himself to God. "

Violet's doubts and perplexities had vanished like morning mist before therising sun; her natural gayety of spirits returned, and she became againas was her wont, the sunshine of the house, full of life and hope, with acheery word and sunny smile for every one, from Mr. Daly down to Rosie, and from Aunt Chloe to the youngest child at the quarter. 

She had not been so happy since the departure of her parents. 

Eddie, Molly and the younger ones, reflected in some measure her brighthopefulness, and the renewed ardor with which she pursued her studies, andfor some days all went on prosperously at Ion. 

Then came a change. 

One evening, Vi, having seen Rosie in bed, and bade Harold and Herbertgood-night also, returned to the schoolroom, where Eddie and their cousinwere busied with their preparations for the morrow's recitations. 

She had settled herself before her desk, and was taking out her books, when the sound of horses' hoofs coming swiftly up the avenue, caused herto spring up and run to the window. 

"It is grandpa, " she said. "He seldom comes so late, oh, Eddie!" and shedropped into a chair, her heart beating wildly. 

"Don't be alarmed, " Eddie said, rising and coming toward her, his ownvoice trembling with apprehension, "it may be good news again. "

"Oh, do you think so? Can it be?" she asked. 

"Surely, Vi, uncle would come as fast as possible if he had good news tobring, " said Molly. "Perhaps it is that they are coming home; it isgetting so late in the fall now, that I'm expecting every day to hearthat. "

"Let's go down to grandpa, " said Vi, rising, while a faint color stoleinto her cheek, which had grown very pale at the thought that the littlepet sister might be dead or dying. "No, no, " as a step was heard on thestairs, "he is coming to us. "

The door opened, and Mr. Dinsmore entered. One look into hisgrief-stricken face, and Violet threw herself into his arms, and wept uponhis breast. 

He soothed her with silent caresses; his heart almost too full for speech;but at length, "It is not the worst, " he said in low, moved tones, "shelives, but has had a relapse, and they are bringing her home. "

"Home to die!" echoed Violet's heart, and she clung about hergrandfather's neck, weeping almost convulsively. 

Tears coursed down Molly's cheeks also, and Eddie, hardly less overcomethan his sister, asked tremulously, "How soon may we expect them, grandpa?"

"In about two days, I think; and my dear children, we must schoolourselves to meet Lily with calmness and composure, lest we injure, byexciting and agitating her. We must be prepared to find her more feeblethan when she went away, and much exhausted by the fatigue of thejourney. "

Worse than when she went away! and even then the doctors gave no hope! Itwas almost as if they already saw her lying lifeless before them. 

They wept themselves to sleep that night, and in the morning it was asthough death had already entered the house; a solemn stillness reigned inall its rooms, and the quiet tread, the sad, subdued tones, the oftfalling tear, attested the warmth of affection in which the dear, dyingchild was held. 

A parlor car was speeding southward; its occupants, a noble looking man, alovely matron, a blooming, beautiful girl of seventeen, a rosy babe in hisnurse's arms, and a pale, fragile, golden-haired, blue-eyed child ofseven, lying now on a couch with her head in her mother's lap, now restingin her father's arms for a little. 

She seemed the central figure of the group, all eyes turning ever andanon, upon her in tenderest solicitude, every ear attentive to herslightest plaint, every hand ready to minister to her wants. 

She was very quiet, very patient, answering their anxious, questioningwords and looks with many a sweet, affectionate smile or whisper ofgrateful appreciation of their ministry of love. 

Sometimes she would beg to be lifted up for a moment that she might seethe rising or setting sun, or gaze upon the autumnal glories of the woods, and as they drew near their journey's end she would ask, "Are we almostthere, papa? shall I soon see my own sweet home, and dear brothers andsisters?"

At last the answer was, "Yes, my darling; in a few moments we shall leavethe car for our own easy carriage, and one short stage will take us hometo Ion. "

Mr. Dinsmore, his son, and Arthur Conly met them at the station, and toldhow longingly their dear ones at home were looking for them. 

The sun had set, and shadows began to creep over the landscape as thecarriage stopped before the door and Lily was lifted out, borne into thehouse and gently laid upon her own little bed. 

She was nearly fainting with fatigue and weakness, and dearly as theothers were loved, father and mother had no eyes for any but her, no wordof greeting, as the one bore her past, the other hastily followed, withthe doctor and grandfather, to her room. 

But Elsie and Vi were quickly locked in each other's arms, mingling theirtears together, while Rosie and the boys gathered round, awaiting theirturn. 

"Oh!" sobbed Rosie, "mamma didn't speak to me; she didn't look at me; shedoesn't love me any more; nor my papa either. "

"Yes, they do, little pet, " Elsie said, leaving Violet to embrace thelittle sister; "and sister Elsie loves you dearly, dearly. Harold andHerbert too; as well as our big oldest brother, " smiling up at Eddiethrough her tears, as he stood by her side. 

He bent down to kiss her sweet lips. 

"Lily?" he said in a choking voice. 

With a great effort Elsie controlled her emotion, and answered low andtremulously, "She is almost done with pain. She is very happy--no doubt, no fear, only gladness that soon she will be

 'Safe in the arms of Jesus, Safe on his gentle breast'"

Eddie turned away with a broken sob. Vi uttered a low cry of anguish; andRosie and the boys broke into a wail of sorrow. 

Till that moment they had not given up hope that the dear one might evenyet be restored. 

In the sick-room the golden head lay on a snow white pillow, the blue eyeswere closed, and the breath came pantingly from the pale, parted lips. 

"Cousin Arthur" had his finger on the slender wrist, counting itspulsations, while father and grandfather stood looking on in anxioussolicitude, and the mother bent over her fading flower, asking in tenderwhispered accents, "are you in pain, my darling?"

"No, mamma, only so tired; so tired!"

Only the mother's quick ear, placed close to the pale lips, could catchthe low-breathed words. 

The doctor administered a cordial, then a little nourishment was given, and the child fell asleep. 

The mother sat watching her, lost to all else in the world. Arthur came toher side with a whispered word about her own need of rest and refreshmentafter her fatiguing journey. 

"How long?" she asked in the same low tone, glancing first at the whiteface on the pillow, then at him. 

"Some days, I hope; and she is likely now to sleep for hours. Let me takeyour place. "

Elsie bent over the child, listening for a moment to her breathing, thenaccepting his offer, followed her husband and father from the room. 

Rosie, waiting and watching in the hall without, sprang to her mother'sembrace with a low, joyful cry, "Mamma, mamma! oh, you've been gone solong, so long! I thought you'd never come back. "

"Mamma is very glad to be with you again, " Elsie said, holding her closefor a moment, then resigning her to her father, she sought the others, all near at hand, and waiting eagerly for a sight of her loved face, aword from her gentle lips. 

They were all longing for one of the old confidential talks, Violet, perhaps, more than the others; but it could not be now, the mother couldscarcely allow herself time for a little rest, ere she must return to herstation by the side of the sick bed. 

But Molly was not forgotten or neglected. Elsie went to her with kindinquiries, loving cheering words and a message from Dick, whom she hadseen a few days before. 

Molly sat thinking it over gratefully, after her cousin had left the room. 

"How kind and thoughtful for others she is! how sweet and gentle, howpatient and resigned. I will try to be more like her. How truly she obeysthe command 'Be pitiful, be courteous. '

"But why should one so lovely, so devoted a Christian, be visited with sosore a trial? I can see why my trials were sent. I was so proud andworldly; and they were necessary to show me my need of Jesus; but she hasloved and leaned upon him since she was a little child. "

CHAPTER TWENTIETH. 

 "Let them die, Let them die now, thy children! so thy heart Shall wear their beautiful image all undimm'd Within it to the last. " --MRS. HEMANS. 

Lily seemed a little stronger in the morning, and the brothers and sisterswere allowed to go in by turns and speak to her. 

Violet chose to be the last, thinking that would, perhaps, secure a littlelonger interview. 

Lily with mamma by her side, lay propped up with pillows--her eyes bright, a lovely color on her almost transparent cheek, her luxurious hair lyingabout her like heaps of shining gold, her red lips smiling a joyouswelcome, as Vi stooped over her. 

Could it be that she was dying?

"Oh, darling, you may get well even yet?" cried Vi, in tones tremulouswith joy and hope. 

Lily smiled, and stroked her sister's face lovingly with her little thinwhite hand. 

Violet was startled by its scorching heat. 

"You are burning up with fever!" she exclaimed, tears gushing from hereyes. 

"Yes; but I shall soon be well, " said the child clasping her sisterclose; "I'm going home to the happy land to be with Jesus, Vi; oh, don'tyou wish you were going too? Mamma I'm tired; please tell Vi my text. "

"'And the inhabitant shall not say, I am sick; the people that dwelltherein shall be forgiven their iniquity, '" the mother repeated in a lowsweet voice. 

"For Jesus' sake, " softly added the dying one. "He has loved me and washedme from my sins in his own blood. "

Vi fell on her knees by the bedside, and buried her face in the clothes, vainly trying to stifle her bursting sobs. 

"Poor Vi, " sighed Lily. "Mamma, comfort her. "

Mamma drew the weeper to her bosom, and spoke tenderly to her of theloving Saviour and the home he has gone to prepare for his people. 

"Our darling will be so safe and happy there, " she said, "and she is gladto go, to rest in his bosom, and wait there for us, as, in his own goodtime, he shall call one after another to himself. 

 "'Tis there we'll meet, At Jesus' feet, When we meet to part no more. '"

Tears were coursing down the mother's cheeks as she spoke, but her mannerwas calm and quiet. To her, as to her child standing upon the very brinkof Jordan, heaven seemed very near, very real, and while mourning thatsoon that beloved face and form would be seen no more on earth sherejoiced with joy unspeakable, for the blessedness that should be hersforever and forevermore. 

There were no tears in Lily's eyes, "Mamma, I'm so happy, " she saidsmiling. "Dear Vi, you must be glad for me and not cry so. I have no painto-day; and I'll never have any more when I get home where the dearSaviour is. Mamma, please read about the beautiful city. "

Elsie took up the Bible that lay beside the pillow, and opening at theRevelation, read its last two chapters--the twenty-first andtwenty-second. 

Lily lay intently listening, Violet's hand fast clasped in hers. 

"Darling Vi, " she whispered, "you love Jesus, don't you?"

Violet nodded assent: she could not speak. 

"And you're willing to let him have me, aren't you, dear?"

"Yes, yes, " but the tears fell fast, and "Oh, what shall I do withoutyou?" she cried with a choking sob. 

"It won't be long, " said Lily. "Mamma says it will seem only a very littlewhile when it is past. "

Her voice sank with the last words, and she closed her eyes with a wearysigh. 

"Go, dear daughter, go away for the present, " the mother said to Violet, who instantly obeyed. 

Lily lingered for several days, suffering little except from weakness, always patient and cheerful, talking so joyfully of "going home to Jesus, "that death seemed robbed of all its gloom; for it was not of the gravethey thought in connection with her, but of the glories of the uppersanctuary, the bliss of those who dwell forever with the Lord. 

Father, brothers and sisters often gathered for a little while about herbed; for she dearly loved them all; but the mother scarcely left her dayor night; the mother whose gentle teachings had guided her childish feetinto the path that leads to God, whose ministry of love had made the shortlife bright and happy, spite of weakness and pain. 

It was in the early morning that the end came. 

She had been sleeping quietly for some hours, sleeping while darknesspassed away till day had fully dawned and the east was flushing withcrimson and gold. 

Her mother sat by the bedside gazing with tender glistening eyes upon thelittle wan face, thinking how placid was its expression, what an almostunearthly beauty it wore, when suddenly the large azure eyes opened wide, gazing steadily into hers, while the sweetest smile played about the lips. 

"Mamma, dear mamma, how good you've been to me! Jesus is here, he hascome for me. I'm going now. Dear, darling mamma, kiss me good-bye. "

"My darling! my darling!" Elsie cried, pressing a kiss of passionate loveupon the sweet lips. 

"Dear mamma, " they faintly whispered--and were still. 

Kneeling by the bedside, Elsie gathered the little wasted form in herarms, pillowing the beautiful golden head upon her bosom, while again andagain she kissed the pale brow, the cheeks, the lips; then laying it downgently she stood gazing upon it with unutterable love and mingled joy andanguish. 

"It was well with the child, " and no rebellious thought arose in herheart, but ah, what an aching void was there! how empty were her arms, though so many of her darlings were still spared to her. 

A quiet step drew near, a strong arm was passed about her waist, and akind hand drew her head to a resting-place on her husband's breast. 

"Is it so?" he said in moved tones, gazing through a mist of tears uponthe quiet face of the young sleeper. "Ah, darling, our precious lamb issafely folded at last. He has gathered her in his arms and is carrying herin his bosom. "

There was no bitterness in the tears that were shed to the memory oflittle Lily; her short life had been so full of suffering, her passingaway was so joyful that they must rejoice for her even while they wept fortheir own heavy loss. 

They laid her body in the family burialground and mamma and the childrenwent very often to scatter flowers upon the graves, reserving the fairestand sweetest for the little mound that looked so fresh and new. 

"But she is not here, " Rosie would say, "she's gone to the dear home abovewhere Jesus is. And she's so happy. She'll never be sick any more becauseit says, 'Neither shall there be any more pain. '"

Lily was never spoken of as lost or as dead; she had only gone before tothe happy land whither they all were journeying, and where they shouldfind her again blooming and beautiful; they spoke of her often and withcheerfulness, though tears would sometimes fall at the thought that theseparation must be so long. 

Elsie was much worn out with the long nursing, which she would not resignto other hands, and, as Mr. And Mrs. Daly were well pleased to have it soarranged, they still retained their posts in the household. 

But the children again enjoyed the pleasant evening talks, and the prizedmorning half hour with mamma. They might go to her at other times also, and it was not long before Vi found an opportunity to unburden her mind bya full account of all the doubts and perplexities that had so troubledher, and the manner in which they had been removed, to her great comfortand peace. 

It was in the afternoon of the second day after the funeral, the two oldergirls being alone with their mother in her boudoir. 

Elsie was startled at the thought of the peril her child had been in. 

"I blame myself, " she said, "that I have not guarded you more carefullyagainst these fearful errors. We will now take up the subject together, mychildren and I, and study it thoroughly; and we will invite Isa and Virgyto join with us in our search after truth. "

"Molly also, mamma, if she is willing, " suggested her namesake daughter. 

"Certainly; but I count her among my children. Ah, I have not seen her forseveral days! I fear she has been feeling neglected. I will go to hernow, " she added, rising from the couch on which she had been reclining. "And you may both go with me, if you wish. "

Isa had been with Molly for the last half hour. 

"I came on that unpleasant business of making a call of condolence, " sheannounced on her entrance, "but they told me Cousin Elsie was lying downto rest and her girls were with her--Elsie and Vi--so not wishing todisturb them, I'll visit with you first, if you like. "

"I'm glad to see you, " Molly said. "Please be seated. "

Isadore seemed strangely embarrassed and sat for some moments withoutspeaking. 

"What is the matter, Isa?" Molly asked at length. 

"I think it was really unkind in mamma to send me on this errand; it washer place to come, but she said Cousin Elsie was so bound up in that childthat she would be overwhelmed with grief, and she (mamma) would not knowwhat to say; she always found it the most awkward thing in the world totry to console people under such afflictions. "

"It will not be at all necessary, " returned Molly dryly. "Cousin Elsie hasall the consolation she needs. She came to me for a few moments the veryday Lily died, and though I could see plainly that she had been weeping, her face was perfectly calm and peaceful; and she told me that her heartsang for joy when she thought of her darling's blessedness. "

Isa looked very thoughtful. 

"I wish I were sure of it, " she said half unconsciously; "she was such adear little thing. "

"Sure of what?" cried Molly indignantly; "can you doubt for a moment thatthat child is in heaven?"

"If she had only been baptized into the true church. But there, don't lookso angry! how can I help wishing it when I know it's the only way to besaved?"

"But you don't know it! you can't know it, because it isn't so. O Isadore, how could you turn Papist and then try to turn Violet?"

"So you've heard about it? I supposed you had, " said Isadore coloring. "Isuppose too, that Cousin Elsie is very angry with me, and that was why Ithought it so unkind in mamma to send me in her place, making an excuse ofa headache; not a bad enough one to prevent her coming, I'm sure. "

"I don't know how Cousin Elsie feels about it, or even whether she hasheard it, " said Molly; "though I presume she has, as Vi never concealsanything from her. "

"Well I've only done my duty and can't feel that I'm deserving of blame, "said Isadore. "But such a time as I've had of it since my conversionbecame known in the family!"

"Your perversion, you should say, " interrupted Molly. "Was Aunt Louiseangry?"

"Very; but principally, I could see, because she knew grandpa and UncleHorace would reproach her for sending me to the convent. "

"And did they?"

"Yes, grandpa was furious, and of course uncle said, 'I told you so. ' Hehas only reasoned with me, though he let me know he was very muchdispleased about Vi. Cal and Art, too, have undertaken to convince me ofmy errors, while Virginia sneers and asks why I could not be content toremain a Protestant; and altogether I've had a sweet time of it for thelast two weeks. "

"There's a tap at the door; will you please open it?" said Molly. 

It was Mrs. Travilla, Elsie and Violet whom Isadore admitted. Sherecognized them with a deep blush and an embarrassed, deprecating air; forthe thought instantly struck her that Vi had probably just been tellingher mother what had occurred during her absence. 

"Ah, Isa, I did not know you were here, " her cousin said taking her hand. "I am pleased to see you. "

The tone was gentle and kind and there was not a trace of displeasure inlook or manner. 

"Thank you, cousin, " Isa said, trying to recover her composure. "I cameto--mamma has a headache, and sent me----"

"Yes; never mind, I know all you would say, " Elsie answered, tearstrembling in her soft brown eyes, but a look of perfect peace andresignation on her sweet face; "you feel for my sorrow, and I thank youfor your sympathy. But Isa, the consolations of God are not small with me, and I know that my little one is safe with him. 

"Molly, my child, how are you to-day?"

"Very well, thank you, " Molly answered, clinging to the hand that wasoffered her, and looking up with dewy eyes into the calm, beautiful facebending over her. "How kind you are to think of me at such a time as this. Ah cousin, it puzzles me to understand why afflictions should be sent toone who already seems almost an angel in goodness. "

Elsie shook her head. "You cannot see my heart, Molly; and the Masterknows just how many strokes of his chisel are needed to fashion the soulin his image; he will not make one too many. Besides should I grudge himone of the many darlings he has given me? or her the bliss he has takenher to? Ah no, no! his will be done with me and mine. "

She sat down upon a sofa, and making room for Isa, who had been exchanginggreetings with her younger cousins, invited her to a seat by her side. 

"I want to talk with you, " she said gently, "Vi has been telling meeverything. Ah, do not think I have any reproaches for you, though nothingcould have grieved me more than your success in what you attempted. "

She then went on to give, in her own gentle, kindly way, good andsufficient reasons for her dread and hatred of--not Papists--but Popery, and concluded by inviting Isa to join with them in a thoroughinvestigation of its arrogant claims. 

Isa consented, won by her cousin's generous forbearance and affectionateinterest in her welfare, and arrangements were made to begin the verynext day. 

Molly's writing desk stood open on the table by her side, and Violet'sbright eyes catching sight of the address on a letter lying there, "Oh, cousin, have you heard?" she exclaimed, "and is it good news?"

"Yes, " replied Molly, a flush of pride and pleasure mantling her cheek. "Ishould have told you at once, if--under ordinary circumstances;--but--"and her eyes filled as she turned them upon Mrs. Travilla. 

"Dear child, I am interested now and always in all your pains andpleasures, " responded the latter, "and shall heartily rejoice in any goodthat has come to you. "

Then Molly, blushing and happy, explained that she had been using herspare time for months past, in making a translation of a French story, hadoffered it for publication, and, after weeks of anxious waiting, had thatmorning received a letter announcing its acceptance, and enclosing a checkfor a hundred dollars. 

"My dear child, I am proud of you--of the energy, patience andperseverance you have shown, " her cousin said warmly, and with a look ofgreat gratification. "Success, so gained, must be very sweet, and I offeryou my hearty congratulations. "

The younger cousins added theirs, Elsie and Vi rejoicing as at a greatgood to themselves, and Isa expressing extreme surprise at the discoverythat Molly had attained to so much knowledge, and possessed sufficienttalent for such an undertaking. 

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIRST. 

 "Vice is a monster of so frightful mien, As to be hated needs but to be seen; Yet seen too oft, familiar with her face, We first endure, then pity, then embrace. " --POPE. 

The winter and spring passed very quietly at Ion. At Roselands there wasmore gayety, the girls going out frequently, and receiving a good deal ofcompany at home. 

Virginia was seldom at Ion, but Isadore spent an hour there almost everyday pursuing the investigation proposed by her Cousin Elsie. 

She was an honest and earnest inquirer after truth, and at lengthacknowledged herself entirely convinced of the errors into which she hadbeen led, entirely restored to the evangelical faith; and more than that, she became a sincere and devoted Christian; much to the disgust andchagrin of her worldly-minded mother and Aunt Delaford, who would havebeen far better pleased to see her a mere butterfly of fashion, as wereher sister and most of her younger friends. 

But to her brother Arthur, and at both the Oaks and Ion, the change in Isawas a source of deep joy and thankfulness. 

Also it was the means of leading Calhoun, who had long been haltingbetween two opinions, to come out decidedly upon the Lord's side. 

Old Mr. Dinsmore had become quite infirm, and Cal now took entire chargeof the plantation. Arthur was busy in his profession, and Walter was atWest Point preparing to enter the army. 

Herbert and Meta Carrington were at the North; the one attending college, the other at boarding-school. Old Mrs. Carrington was still living; makingher home at Ashlands; and through her, the Rosses were frequently heardfrom. 

They were still enjoying a large measure of worldly prosperity, Mr. Rossbeing a very successful merchant. He had taken his son Philip intopartnership a year ago, and Lucy's letter spoke much of the lad asdelighting his father and herself, by his business ability and shrewdness. 

They had their city residence, as well as their country seat. Gertrude hadmade her debut into fashionable society in the fall, and spent a very gaywinter, and the occasional letters she wrote to the younger Elsie, werefilled with descriptions of the balls, parties, operas and theatricals sheattended, the splendors of her own attire, and the elegant dresses worn byothers. 

It may be that at another time Elsie, so unaccustomed to worldlypleasures, would have found these subjects interesting from their verynovelty; but now while the parting from Lily was so recent, when herhappy death had brought the glories of heaven so near, how frivolous theyseemed. 

They had more attraction for excitable, excitement-loving Violet; yet evenshe, interested for the moment, presently forgot them again, as somethingreminded her of the dear little sister, who was not lost but gone beforeto the better land. 

Vi had a warm, loving heart; no one could be fonder of home, parents, brothers and sisters than she, but as spring drew on, she began to have arestless longing for change of scene and employment. She had been growingfast, and felt weak and languid. 

Both she and Elsie had attained their full height, Vi being a trifle thetaller of the two; they grew daily in beauty and grace, and were not morelovely in person than in character and mind. 

They were as open as the day with their gentle, tender mother, and theirfond, proud father--proud of his lovely wife, and his sons and daughters, whose equals he truly believed were not to be found anywhere throughoutthe whole length and breadth of the land. So Vi was not slow in telling ofher desire for change. 

It was on a lovely evening in May, when the whole family were gathered inthe veranda, serenely happy in each other's society, the babe in hismother's arms, Rosie on her father's knee, the others grouped about them, doing nothing but enjoy the rest and quiet after a busy day with booksand work. 

Molly in her wheeled chair, was there in their midst, feeling herselfquite one of them and looking as contented and even blithesome as any ofthe rest. She was feeling very glad over her success in a second literaryventure, thinking of Dick too, and how delightful it would be if she couldonly talk it all over with him. 

He had told her in his last letter that she was making him proud of her, and what a thrill of delight the words had given her. 

"Papa and mamma!" exclaimed Violet, breaking a pause in the conversation, "home is very dear and sweet, and yet--I'm afraid I ought to be ashamed tosay it, but I do want to go away somewhere for awhile, to the seashore Ithink; that is if we can all go and be together. "

"I see no objection if all would like it, " her father said, with anindulgent smile. "What do you say to the plan, little wife?"

"I echo my husband's sentiments as a good wife should, " she answered withsomething of the sportiveness of other days. 

"And we echo yours, mother, " said Edward. "Do we not?" appealing to theothers. 

"Oh yes, yes!" they cried, "a summer at the seashore, by all means. "

"In a cottage home of our own; shall it not be, papa?" added Elsie. 

"Your mamma decides all such questions, " was his smiling rejoinder. 

"I approve the suggestion. It is far preferable to hotel life, " she said. "Molly, my child, you are the only one who has not spoken. "

Molly's bright face had clouded a little. "I want you all to go and enjoyyourselves, " she said, "though I shall miss you sadly. "

"Miss us! do you then intend to decline going along?"

Molly colored and hesitated; "I'm such a troublesome piece of furniture tomove, " she said half jestingly, bravely trying to cover up the real painthat came with the thought. 

"That is nothing, " said Mr. Travilla, so gently and tenderly that happy, grateful tears sprang to her eyes; "you go, of course, with the rest ofus; unless there is some more insuperable objection--such as adisinclination on your part, and even that should, perhaps, be overruled;for the change would do you good. "

"O Molly you will not think of staying behind?"

"We should miss you sadly, " said Elsie and Vi. 

"And if you go you'll see Dick, " suggested Eddie. 

Molly's heart bounded at the thought. "Oh, " she said, her eyes sparkling, "how delightful that would be! and since you are all so kind, I'll beglad, very glad to go. "

"Here comes grandpa's carriage. I'm so glad!" exclaimed Herbert, the firstto spy it as it turned in at the avenue gate. "Now I hope they'll saythey'll all go too. "

He had his wish; the carriage contained Mr. And Mrs. Dinsmore, their sonand daughter, and it soon appeared that they had come to propose the verything Herbert desired, viz. , that adjacent cottages at the seashore shouldbe engaged for the two families, and all spend the summer there together. 

It was finally arranged that the Dinsmores should precede the others bytwo or three weeks, then Mr. Dinsmore return for his daughter and herfamily, and Mr. Travilla follow a little later in the season. 

Also that the second party should make their journey by water; it would beeasier for Molly, and newer to all than the land route which they hadtaken much oftener in going North. 

"Dear me, how I wish we were rich!" exclaimed Virginia Conly when sheheard of it the next morning at breakfast, from Cal, who had spent theevening at Ion. "I'd like nothing better than to go North for the summer;not to a dull, prosy life in a cottage though, but to some of the grandhotels where people dress splendidly and have hops and all sorts of gaytimes. If I had the means I'd go to the seashore for a few weeks, and thenoff to Saratoga for the rest of the season, Mamma, couldn't we manage itsomehow? You ought to give Isa and me every advantage possible, if youwant us to make good matches. "

"I shouldn't need persuasion to gratify you, if I had the money, Virginia, " she answered dryly, and with a significant glance at her fatherand sons. 

There was no response from them; for none of them felt able to supply thecoveted funds. 

"I think it very likely Cousin Elsie will invite you to visit them, "remarked Arthur at length, breaking the silence which had followed hismother's remark. 

"I shall certainly accept if she does, " said Isa; "for I should dearlylike to spend the summer with her there. "

"Making garments for the poor, reading good books and singing psalms andhymns, " remarked Virginia with a contemptuous sniff. 

"Very good employments, all of them, " returned Arthur quietly, "though Ifeel safe in predicting that a good deal more time will be spent by theTravillas in bathing, riding, driving, boating and fishing. They are noascetics, but the most cheerful, happy family I have ever come across. "

"Yes, it's quite astonishing how easily they've taken the death of thatchild, " said Mrs. Conly, ill-naturedly. 

"Mother, how can you!" exclaimed Arthur, indignant at the insinuation. 

"O mamma, no one could think for a moment it was from want of affection!"cried Isadore. 

"I have not said so; but you didn't tell me, I suppose, how Molly assuredyou her cousin had no need of consolation?"

"Yes, mother, but it was that her grief was swallowed up in the realizingsense of the bliss of her dear departed child. Oh they all talk of her tothis day with glad tears in their eyes, --sorrowing for themselves butrejoicing for her. "

Elsie did give a cordial invitation to her aunt and the two girls to spendthe summer with her and it was accepted at first, but declined afterwardwhen a letter came from Mrs. Delaford, inviting them to join her in someweeks' sojourn, at her expense, first at Cape May and afterward atSaratoga. 

It would be the gay life of dressing, dancing and flirting at greathotels, for which Virginia hungered, and was snatched at with greatavidity by herself and her mother. 

Isadore would have preferred to be with the Travillas, but Mrs. Conlywould not hear of it. 

"Aunt Delaford would be mortally offended. And then the idea of throwingaway such a chance! Was Isa crazy? It would be well enough to acceptElsie's offer to pay their traveling expenses and provide each with ahandsome outfit; but her cottage would be no place to spend the summer in, when they could do so much better; they would meet few gentlemen there;Elsie and Mr. Travilla were so absurdly particular as to whom theyadmitted to an acquaintance with their daughters; if there was theslightest suspicion against a man's moral character, he might as well wishfor the moon as for the entree to their house; or so much as a bowingacquaintance with Elsie or Vi. It was really too absurd. "

"But, mamma, " expostulated Isadore, "surely you would not be willing thatwe should associate with any one who was not of irreproachable character?"

Mrs. Conly colored and looked annoyed. 

"There is no use in being too particular, Isadore, " she said, "one can'texpect perfection; young men are very apt to be a little wild, and theyoften settle down afterward into very good husbands. "

"Really, I don't think any the worse of a young fellow for sowing a fewwild oats, " remarked Virginia, with a toss of her head: "they're a greatdeal more interesting than your _good_ young men. "

"Such as Cal and Art, " suggested Isa, smiling slightly. "Mamma, don't youwish they'd be a little wild?"

"Nonsense, Isadore! your brothers are just what I would have them! I don't_prefer_ wild young men, but I hope I have sense enough not to expecteverybody's sons to be as good as mine, and charity enough to overlookthe imperfections of those who are not. "

"Well, mamma, " said Isadore with great seriousness, "I have talked thismatter over with Cousin Elsie, and I think she takes the right view of it;that the rule should be as strict for men as for women; that the sin whichmakes a woman an outcast from decent society, should receive the samecondemnation when committed by a man; that a woman should require asabsolute moral purity in the man she marries, as men do in the women theychoose for wives; and so long as we are content with anything less, solong as we smile on men whom we know to be immoral, we are in a measureresponsible for their vices. "

"I endorse that sentiment, " said Arthur, coming in from an adjoining room;"it would be a great restraint upon men's vicious inclinations, if theyknew that indulgence in vice would shut them out of ladies' society. "

"A truce to the subject. I'm tired of it, " said Virginia. "Is it decided, mamma, that we take passage in the steamer with the Travillas?"

"Yes; and now let us turn our attention to the much more agreeable topicof dress; there are a good many questions to settle in regard to it;--whatwe must have, what can be got here, and what after we reach Philadelphia. "

"And how one dollar can be made to do the work of two, " added Virginia;"for there are loads and loads of things I must have in order to make arespectable appearance at the watering-places. "

"And we have just two weeks in which to make our arrangements, " added hermother. 

CHAPTER TWENTY-SECOND. 

 "Such sheets of fire, such bursts of horrid thunder, Such groans of roaring wind and rain, I never Remember to have heard. " --SHAKESPEARE. 

Early in the morning of a perfect June day, our numerous party arrived atthe wharf where lay the steamer that was to carry them to Philadelphia. 

The embarkation was made without accident. Molly had had a nervous dreadof her share in it, but under her uncle's careful supervision, wasconveyed safely on board. 

The weather was very warm, the sea perfectly calm, but as they steamed outof the harbor a pleasant breeze sprang up, and the voyage began mostprosperously. 

There were a hundred lady passengers, and not more than a dozen gentlemen;but to Virginia's delight, one of these last was a gay dashing young armyofficer, with whom she had a slight acquaintance. 

He caught sight of her directly, hastened to greet her, and they were soonpromenading the deck together, engaged in an evident flirtation. 

Mr. Dinsmore, seated at some little distance with his daughter and herchildren about him, watched his niece's proceedings with a deepeningfrown. He was not pleased with either her conduct or her companion. 

At length, rising and approaching his sister, "Do you know that young man, Louise?" he asked. 

"Not intimately, " she returned, bridling. "He is Captain Brice of thearmy. "

"Do you know his character?"

"I have heard that he belongs to a good family, and I can see that he is agentleman. I hope you are satisfied. "

"No, I am not, Louise. He is a wild, reckless fellow, fond of drink, gambles----"

"And what of it?" she interrupted. "I don't suppose he's going to teachVirginia to do either. "

"He is no fit associate for her or for any lady. Will you interpose yourauthority----"

"No, I won't; I'm not going to insult a gentleman, and I'm satisfied thatVirginia has sense enough to take care of herself. "

"Waving the question whether a man of his character is a gentleman, let meremark that it is not necessary to insult him in order to put a stop tothis. You can call your daughter to your side, keep her with you, take anearly opportunity to inform her of the man's reputation, and bid herdiscourage his attentions. If you do not interfere, " he added in hisdetermined way, "I shall take the matter into my own hands. "

"Isadore, " said Mrs. Conly, "go and tell your sister I wish to speak toher. "

Virginia was extremely vexed at the summons, but obeyed it promptly. 

"What can mamma want? I was having such a splendid time, " she saidpettishly to her sister, when they were out of the captain's hearing. 

"It is more Uncle Horace than mamma. "

Virginia reddened. She knew her uncle's opinions, and she was not entirelyignorant of the reputation borne by Captain Brice. 

She feigned ignorance however, listened with apparent surprise to heruncle's account of him and promised sweetly to treat him with the mostdistant politeness in future. 

Mr. Dinsmore saw through her, but what more could he do, except keep astrict watch over both. 

The captain, forsaken by Virginia, sauntered about the deck and presentlyapproaching an elderly lady who sat somewhat apart from the rest, liftedhis cap with a smiling "How do you do, Mrs. Noyes?" and taking an emptychair by her side entered into a desultory conversation. 

"By the by, " he said, "what an attractive family group is that overyonder, " with a slight motion of the head in the direction of theTravillas. "The mother is my beau-ideal of a lovely matron, in appearanceat least--I have not the happiness of her acquaintance--and the daughtersare models of beauty and grace. They are from your neighborhood, Ibelieve?"

"Yes; I have a calling acquaintance with Mrs. Travilla. She was a greatheiress; has peculiar notions, rather puritanical; but is extremelyagreeable for all that. "

"Could you give me an introduction?"

She shook her head. "I must beg you to excuse me. "

"But why?"

"Ah, captain, do you not know that you have the reputation of being anaughty man? not very; but then, as I have told you, the mother is verystrict and puritanical in her ideas; the father is the same, and I shouldonly offend them without doing you any good; the girls would not dare, oreven so much as wish to look at or speak to you. "

Growing red and angry, the captain stammered out something about being noworse than ninetenths of the rest of the world. 

"Very true, no doubt, " she said; "and please understand that you are nottabooed by me. I'm not so strict. But perhaps, " she added laughing, "itmay be because I've no daughters to be endangered by young fellows who areas handsome and fascinating as they are naughty. " He bowed hisacknowledgments, then, as a noble looking young man was seen to approachthe group with the manner of one on a familiar footing inquired, "Who isthat fellow that seems so much at home with them?"

"His name is Leland; Lester Leland. He's a nephew of the Leland who boughtFairview from the Fosters some years ago. He's an artist and poor--thenephew--he had to work his own way in the world; has to yet for thatmatter. I should wonder at the notice the Travillas take of him, only thatI've heard he's one of the good sort. Then besides you know he may make agreat reputation some day. "

"A pious fortune-hunter, I presume, " sneered Brice, rising to give hisseat to a lady; then with a bow he turned and walked away. 

Mr. Dinsmore was taking his grandsons over the vessel, showing them theengine and explaining its complicated machinery. 

Edward, who had quite a mechanical turn, seemed to understand it nearly aswell as his grandfather, and Harold and Herbert, bright, intelligent boysof ten and twelve, looked and examined with much interest, asking sensiblequestions and listening attentively to the replies. 

They were active, manly little fellows, not fool-hardy or inclined tomischief; nor was their mother of the over-anxious kind; she could trustthem, and when the tour of inspection with their grandpa was finished, they were allowed to roam about by themselves. 

Captain Brice took advantage of this to make acquaintance with them, andwin their hearts by thrilling stories of buffalo hunts and encounters withwolves, grizzly bears and Indians, in which he invariably figured asconquering hero. 

He thought to make them stepping stones to an acquaintance with theirsisters, and congratulated himself on his success when, on being summonedto return to their mother, they asked eagerly if he would not tell themmore to-morrow. 

"Just try me, my fine fellows, " he answered, laughing. 

"Mamma, what do you want with us?" they asked, running up to her. "Agentleman was telling us such nice stories. "

"I think the call to supper will come very soon, " she said, "and I wantyou to smooth your hair and wash your hands. Dinah will take you to yourstate-room and see that you have what you need. "

"I'm afraid we're going to have a gust, " remarked Isadore as the ladshurried away to do their mother's bidding; "see how the clouds aregathering yonder in the northwest. "

"A thunder-storm at sea; how romantic!" said Virginia; "'twill besomething to talk about all our lives. "

"Silly child!" said her mother, "to hear you talk, one would think therewas no such thing as danger. "

"Pshaw, mamma! we're hardly out of sight of land--our own shores, " sheretorted. 

"That would but increase our danger if the storm were coming from theopposite direction, " said her uncle; "but fortunately, it is from aquarter to drive us out to sea. "

"Do you think it will be a gust, grandpa?" asked Violet, a littleanxiously. 

"I fear so; the heat has become so oppressive, the breeze has entirelydied down, and the clouds look threatening; but, my child, do not fear;our Father, God, rules upon the sea as well as the land; the stormy windfulfilling his word. "

The storm came up rapidly, bursting on them in its fury before they hadleft the tea-table; the lightning's flash and the crash and roll of thethunder followed in quick succession; the stentorian voices of theofficers of the vessel, shouting their orders to the crew, the heavy hastytramp of the men's feet, the whistling of the wind through the rigging, the creaking of the cordage, the booming of the sea, mingling with theterrific thunder claps and the down-pouring of the rain, combined in anuproar fit to cause the stoutest heart to quake. 

Faces grew pale with fear; the women and children huddled together infrightened groups; the men looked anxiously at each other, and between thethunder peals, spoke in low tones of the danger of being driven out tosea, and asked each other of the captain's skill, on what part of thecoast they were, and whether the vessel were strong enough to outride thetempest, should it continue long. 

"Oh, this is dreadful! I'm afraid we shall all go to the bottom, if itkeeps on much longer, " Mrs. Conly was saying to her niece, when there camea crash as if the very sky were falling; as if it had come down upon them;a shock that threw some from their seats, while others caught at thefurniture to save themselves; the vessel shivered from stem to stern, seemed to stand still for an instant, then rushed on again. 

"It struck! we're lost!" cried a number of voices, while many women andchildren screamed, and some fainted. 

"Courage, my friends!" cried Mr. Dinsmore in loud clear tones, that couldbe distinctly heard by all, above the storm. "All is not lost that is indanger; and the 'Lord's hand is not shortened that it cannot save; neitherhis ear heavy that it cannot hear. '"

"Yes, it is time to pray, " said an excited, answering voice; "thelightning has struck and shivered the mast; and look how it has run alongover our heads and down yon mirror; as you may see by the melting of theglass. It has doubtless continued on to the hold, and set fire to thecotton stored there, " the speaker--a thin, nervous looking man, who waspushing his way through the throng--added in a whisper close to Mr. Dinsmore's ear. 

"Be quiet, will you!" said the latter sternly; "these helpless women andchildren are sufficiently frightened already. "

"Yes, yes and I don't want to scare 'em unnecessarily; but we'd better beprepared for the worst. "

Elsie had overheard the whispers and her cheek paled, a look of keendistress coming into her face as she glanced from one to another of herloved ones, dearer far than her own life. 

But she showed no other sign of agitation; her heart sent up one swift cryto him to whom "all power is given in heaven and in earth, " and faith andlove triumphed over fear. His love to her was infinite nor was there anylimit to his power. She would trust him that all would be well whether inlife or death. 

"'Even the wind and the sea obey him, '" she whispered to Violet, who wasasking with pale trembling lips, "Mamma, mamma, what will become of us?"

"But mamma they say the vessel is loaded with cotton, and that thelightning has probably set it on fire. "

"Still, my darling, he is able to take care of us; 'it is nothing with himto help whether with many or with them that have no power;' he is the Lordour God. "

Her father had come to her side. "Daughter, my dear, dear daughter!" hesaid with emotion, taking her in his arms as was his wont in her earlyyears. 

"O grandpa, take care of mamma, whatever becomes of us!" exclaimed Elsieand Vi together. 

"No, no!" she said, "save my children and never mind me. "

"Mamma, you must be our first care!" said Eddie hoarsely. 

"Your sisters, my son, and your brothers. Leave me to the last, " sheanswered firmly. 

"We will hope to save you all, " Mr. Dinsmore said, trying to speakcheerfully; "but, my child, if you perish, I perish with you. "

"Horace, is it true? is it true that the vessel is on fire?" gasped Mrs. Conly, clutching his arm and staring him in the face with eyes wild withterror. 

"Try to calm yourself, Louise, " he said kindly. "We do not know certainlyyet, though there is reason to fear it may be so. "

"Horrible!" she cried, wringing her hands. "I can't die! I've never madeany preparations for death. Oh save me, Horace, if you can! No, no save mygirls, my poor dear girls, and never mind me. "

"Louise, my poor sister, " he said, deeply moved, "we will not despair yetof all being saved; but try to prepare for the worst, turn _now_ to himwho has said, Look unto me and be ye saved all ye ends of the earth. "

Virginia had thrown herself upon a sofa, in strong hysterics, and Isadorestood over her with smelling salts and fan. 

Mrs. Conly hurried back to them with tears rolling down her cheeks. 

"Oh what is to be done?" she sighed, taking the fan from Isa's hand. "IfCal and Art were but here to look after us! Your uncle has his hands fullwith his daughter and her children. "

"Mamma let us ask God for help; he and he only can give it, " whisperedIsadore. 

"Yes, yes, ask him! you know how and he will hear you. Virgy, my child, try to calm yourself. "

Isa knelt by her sister's side; there were many on their knees crying forsuccor in this hour of terrible danger. 

The storm was abating, the rain had nearly ceased to fall, and the wind tolash the waves into fury; the flashes of lightning were fewer and fainterand the heavy claps of thunder had given place to distant mutterings; theywould not be wrecked by the fury of the tempest, yet alas, there stillremained the more fearful danger of devouring fire. 

It was a night of terror; no one thought of retiring, and few but youngchildren closed an eye. 

Every preparation was made for taking to the water at a moment's warning;those who had life preservers--and all our party were supplied withthem--brought them out and secured them to their persons; boats were madeready to launch, and those who retained sufficient presence of mind andforethought, selected, and kept close at hand, such valuables as it seemedpossible they might be able to carry about them. 

The Travillas kept together, Mr. Dinsmore with them, and young Lelandalso. 

He was to them only an ordinary friend, but one of them he would have diedto save, and almost he would have done it for the others for her sake. 

Poor Molly had never felt her helplessness more than now; fastened to herchair as with bands of steel, there was less hope of escape for her thanfor others. 

Her thoughts flew to Dick in that first moment of terror, to Dick wholoved her better than any other earthly thing. Alas, he was far away; butthere was One near, her Elder Brother, who would never leave nor forsakeher. With that thought she grew calm and strong to wait and to endure. 

But her uncle did not forget her; with his own hands he fastened a lifepreserver about her. 

"My poor helpless child, " he said low and tenderly, "do not fear that youwill be forgotten should there be any chance for rescue. "

"Thank you, dear, kind uncle, " she said with tears in her eyes, "but leaveme to the last, my life is worth so much less than theirs, " glancingtoward her cousins; "there would be only Dick to mourn its loss----"

"No, no, Molly, we all love you!" he interrupted. 

She smiled a little sadly, but went on, "and it would be more difficult tosave me than two others. "

"Still, do not despair, " he said, "I will not leave you to perish alone;and I have hope that in the good providence of God, we shall all besaved. "

Gradually the screaming, sobbing, fainting, gave place to a dulldespairing waiting, waiting, with a trembling, sickening dread, for theconfirmation of their worst fears. 

Rosie had fallen asleep upon a sofa with her head in her eldest sister'slap, Vi on an ottoman beside them, tightly clasping a hand of each. 

Elsie had her babe in her arms; he was sleeping sweetly, and laying herhead back, she closed her eyes while her thoughts flew to Ion, to thehusband and father who would perhaps learn to-morrow of the loss of allhis treasures. 

Her heart bled for him, as she seemed to see him bowed down withheart-breaking sorrow. 

Then arose the question "what should the end bring to them--herself andher beloved children?"

For herself she could say, "Though I walk through the valley of the shadowof death; I will fear no evil; for thou art with me. " Elsie, Vi and Eddieshe had good reasons to hope were true Christians; but Harold andHerbert?--A pang shot through her heart. Good, obedient children thoughthey were, she yet knew not that they had ever experienced that new birthwithout which none can enter heaven. 

Jesus said, "Verily, verily, I say unto thee, Except a man be born again, he cannot see the kingdom of God. "

"Mamma, what is it?" Eddie asked, seeing her glance anxiously from side toside. 

"Your brothers! I do not see them. Where are they?"

"They went into their state-room a moment since;--right here, you know. Shall I call them?"

"Yes, yes; I must speak to them. "

They came hand in hand, in answer to Eddie's summons. 

Herbert's eyes were full of tears, not of terror or grief; there seemed anew happy light in each boyish face. 

"Mamma, " whispered Harold, putting his arm round her neck, his lips to herear, "we went away to be alone, Herbie and I; we knew what made you lookso sorry at us;--because you were afraid we didn't love Jesus; but we do, mamma, and we went away to give ourselves to him; and we mean to be hisalways, whether we live or die. "

Glad tears rolled down her cheeks as she silently embraced first one, thenthe other. 

And so slowly the night wore away, a reign of terror for hours, whileevery moment they were watching with despairing hearts for the smell offire or the bursting out of flames from the hold; their fears gave way toa faint hope as time passed on and the catastrophe was still delayed; ahope that grew gradually stronger and brighter, till at last it was lostin glad certainty. 

The electricity, it appeared, had scattered over the iron of themachinery, instead of running on down into the hold. 

Some said, "What a lucky escape!" others, "What a kind providence. "

CHAPTER TWENTY-THIRD. 

 "Sacred love is basely bought and sold; Wives are grown traffic, marriage is a trade. " --RANDOLPH. 

They came safely into port. A little crowd of eager, expectant friendsstood waiting on the wharf; among them a tall, dark-eyed young man, with abright, intellectual face, whom Molly, seated on the deck in the midst ofthe family group, recognized with almost a cry of delight. 

The instant a plank was thrown out, he sprang on board, and in anothermoment she was in his arms, sobbing, "Oh, Dick, Dick. I thought I'd neversee you again!"

"Why?" he said with a joyous laugh, "we've not been so long or so farapart that you need have been in despair of that. "

Then as he turned to exchange greetings with the others, his ear caughtthe words, "We had an awful night, expecting every moment to see flamesbursting out from the hold. "

"What, what does it mean?" he asked, grasping his uncle's hand, while hischeek paled, and he glanced hastily from side to side. 

"We have had a narrow escape, " said Mr. Dinsmore. 

The main facts were soon given, the details as they drove to their hotel, and Dick rejoiced with trembling, as he learned how, almost, he had lostthese dear ones. 

A few days were spent in Philadelphia, then Mr. Dinsmore and the Travillassought their seaside homes, Dick going with them. 

Their coming was hailed with joy by Mrs. Dinsmore and her daughter Rose, who had been occupying their cottage for a week or more. 

The Conlys would linger some time longer in the city, laying in a stock offinery for the summer campaign, then, joined by Mrs. Delaford, they toowould seek the seashore. 

The cottages were quite out of the town, built facing the ocean, and asnear it as consistent with safety and comfort. 

The children hailed the first whiff of the salt sea breeze with eagerdelight, were down upon the beach within a few minutes of their arrival, and until bedtime left it only long enough to take their tea, finishingtheir day with a long moonlight drive along the shore. 

They were given perfect liberty to enjoy themselves to the full; the onlyrestrictions being that they were not to go into danger, or out of sightof the house, or to the water's edge unless accompanied by some oldermember of the family or a trusty servant. 

The next morning they were all out again for a ramble before breakfast, and immediately after prayers Vi, Rosie, Harold and Herbert, with a manservant in attendance, returned to the beach. 

The girls were collecting shells and seaweed, the two boys skipping stoneson the water, Ben, the servant, watching the sport with keen interest, andoccasionally joining in it. 

Absorbed in their amusements, none of them noticed the approach of a youngman in undress uniform. 

He followed them for some moments in a careless way, as if he were butcasually strolling in the same direction, yet was watching with closeattention every movement of Vi's graceful figure. 

She and Rosie were unconsciously widening the distance between theirbrothers and themselves, not noticing that the boys had become stationary. 

Perceiving this, and that they were now out of earshot, the strangerquickened his pace, and coming up behind the lads, hailed them with, "Sohere you are, my fine fellows! I'm pleased to meet you again!"

"Oh, " exclaimed Herbert, looking round, "it's the gentleman that tellssuch nice stories! Good-morning, sir. We're glad to see you, too. "

"Yes, indeed, " assented Harold offering his hand, which the strangergrasped and shook heartily. "We're having a splendid time skipping stones. Did you ever do it?"

"Many a time when I was a little chap like you, I used to be a famoushand at it. Let's see if I can equal you now. "

He was soon apparently as completely engrossed with the sport as any ofthem, yet through it all was furtively watching Vi and Rosie as theystrolled slowly onward, now stooping to pick up a shell or pausing amoment to gaze out over the wide expanse of waters, then sauntering onagain in careless, aimless fashion, thoroughly enjoying the entire freedomfrom ordinary tasks and duties. 

The boys knew nothing about their new companion except what they had seenof him on board the vessel; their mother had not understood who was theirstory-telling friend, and in the excitement of the storm and the hastyvisit to the city, he had been quite forgotten by all three. Nor were anyof the family aware of his vicinity; thus it happened that the lads hadnot been warned against him. 

Vi, however, had seen him with Virginia and knew from what passed directlyafterward between her grandfather and aunt (though she did not hear theconversation) that the stranger was not one whom Mr. Dinsmore approved. 

Not many minutes had passed before she looked back, and seeing that shehad left her brothers some distance behind, hastily began to retrace herfootsteps, Rosie with her. 

The instant they turned to do so, the captain, addressing Harold, artfullyinquired, "Do you know that young lady?"

"I should think so! she's my own sister, " said the boy proudly. "Thelittle one too. "

"Pretty girls, both of them. Won't you introduce me?"

"Yes, I suppose so, " returned the boy a little doubtfully, and taking amore critical survey of his new acquaintance than he had thought necessarybefore; "you--you're a gentleman and a good man, aren't you?"

"Don't I look like it?" laughed the captain. "Would you take me for arogue?"

"I--I don't believe you'd be a burglar or a thief, but----"

"Well?"

"Please don't think I mean to be rude, sir, but you broke the thirdcommandment a minute ago. "

"The third? which is that? for I really don't remember. "

"I thought you'd forgotten it, " said Herbert. 

"It's the one that says, 'Thou shalt not take the name of the Lord thy Godin vain, '" answered Harold, in low reverent tones. 

"I own to being completely puzzled, " said the captain. "I certainlyhaven't been swearing. "

"No, not exactly; but you said, 'By George, ' and 'By Heaven, ' and mammasays such words are contrary to the spirit of the command, and that no onewho is a thorough gentleman and Christian will ever use them. "

"That's a very strict rule, " he said, lifting his cap and bowing low toViolet, who was now close at hand. 

She did not seem to notice it, or to see him at all. 

"Boys, " she said with gentle gravity, "let us go home now. "

"What for, Vi? I'm not tired of the beach yet, " objected Herbert. 

"I have something to tell you; something else to propose. Won't you gowith me?"

"Yes, " and with a hasty "good-bye, " to the captain, they joined theirsisters, who were already moving slowly toward home. 

"What have you to tell us, Vi?" asked Harold. 

"That I know grandpa does not approve of that man, and I am quite suremamma would not wish you to be with him. The sun is getting hot and thereare Dick and Molly on the veranda; let's go and talk with them for awhile. It's nearly time now for our drive. "

"Miss Wi'let, " said Ben, coming up behind, "dat fellah's mighty pow'fulmad; swored a big oath dat you's proud as Luficer. "

"Oh, then we won't have anything more to do with him!" exclaimed the boys, Herbert adding, "but I do wish he was good, for he does tell such famousstories. "

They kept their word and were so shy of the captain that he soon gave uptrying to cultivate their acquaintance, or to make that of their sisters. 

Mrs. Noyes and he were boarding at the same hotel, and from her he learnedthat Mrs. Delaford and the Conlys were expected shortly, having engagedrooms on the same floor with herself. 

The information was agreeable, as, though he did not care particularly forVirginia, flirting with her would, he thought, be rather an enjoyable wayof passing the time; all the more so that it would be in opposition to Mr. Dinsmore's wishes; for the captain knew very well why, and at whosesuggestion, Virginia had been summoned away from his society on board thevessel, and had no love for the man who so highly disapproved of him. 

The girl, too, resented her uncle's interference, and on her arrival, withthe perversity of human nature, went farther in her encouragement of theyoung man's attentions than she, perhaps, would otherwise have done. 

Her mother and aunt looked on with indifference, if not absolute approval. 

Isadore was the only one who offered a remonstrance, and she was cut shortwith a polite request to "mind her own business. "

"I think I am, Virgy, " she answered pleasantly, "I'm afraid you're gettingyourself into trouble; and surely I ought to try to save you from that. "

"I won't submit to surveillance, " returned her sister. "I wouldn't live inthe same house with Uncle Horace for anything. And if mamma and AuntDelaford don't find fault, you needn't. "

Isadore, seriously concerned for Virginia's welfare, was questioning inher own mind whether she ought to mention the matter to her uncle, whenher mother set that doubt at rest by forbidding her to do so. 

Isa, who was trying to be a consistent Christian, would neither flirt nordance, and the foolish, worldly-minded mother was more vexed at herbehavior than at Virginia's. 

Isa slipped away to the cottage homes of the Dinsmores and Travillaswhenever she could. She enjoyed the quiet pleasures and the refined andintellectual society of her relatives and the privileged friends, bothladies and gentlemen, whom they gathered about them. 

Lester Leland, who had taken up his abode temporarily in that vicinity, was a frequent visitor and sometimes brought a brother artist with him. Dick's cronies came too, and old friends of the family from far and near. 

Elsie sent an early invitation to Lucy Ross to bring her daughters andspend some weeks at the cottage. 

The reply was a hasty note from Lucy saying that she deeply regretted herinability to accept, but they were extremely busy making preparations tospend the season at Saratoga, had already engaged their rooms and couldnot draw back; beside that Gertrude and Kate had set their hearts ongoing. "However, " she added, "she would send Phil in her place, he musthave a little vacation and insisted he would rather visit their oldfriends the Travillas, than go anywhere else in the world; he would put upat a hotel (being a young man, he would of course prefer that) but hopedto spend a good deal of time at the cottage. "

He did so, and attached himself almost exclusively to the younger Elsie, with an air of proprietorship which she did not at all relish. 

She tried to let him see it without being rude; but the blindness ofegotism and vast self-appreciation was upon him and he thought her onlycharmingly coy; probably with the intent to thus conceal her love andadmiration. 

He was egregiously mistaken. She found him, never the most interesting ofcompanions at times an intolerable bore; and was constantly contrastinghis conversation which ran upon trade and money making, stocks, bonds andmortgages, to the exclusion of nearly everything else except fulsomeflatteries of herself--with that of Lester Leland, who spoke withenthusiasm of his art; who was a lover of Nature and Nature's God; whosethoughts dwelt among lofty themes, while at the same time he was entirelyfree from vanity, his manner as simple and unaffected as that of a littlechild. 

He was a favorite with all the family; his society enjoyed especially bythe ladies. 

He devoted himself more particularly to sculpture, but also sketchedfinely from nature, as did both Elsie and Violet; the latter was beginningto show herself a genius in both that and music, Elsie had recently underLeland's instructions, done some very pretty wood carving and modeling inclay, and this similarity of tastes made them very congenial. 

Philip's stay was happily not lengthened, business calling him back to NewYork. 

Letters came now and then from Mrs. Ross, Gertrude or Kate, telling oftheir gay life at Saratoga. 

The girls seemed to have no lack of gentlemen admirers; among whom was aMr. Larrabee from St. Louis, who was particularly attentive to Gertrude. 

At length it was announced that they were engaged. 

It was now the last of August. The wedding was to take place about themiddle of October, and as the intervening six weeks would barely affordtime for the preparation of the trousseau, the ladies hurried home to NewYork. 

Then Kate came down to spend a week with the Travillas. 

She looked fagged and worn, complained of ennui, was already wearied ofthe life she had been leading, and had lost all taste for simplepleasures. 

Her faded cheek and languid air, presented a strange contrast to thefresh, bright beauty and animation of Elsie and Violet, a contrast thatpained the kind, motherly heart of Mrs. Travilla, who would have been gladto make all the world as happy as she and her children were. 

Elsie and Vi felt a lively interest in Gertrude's prospects, and had manyquestions to ask about her betrothed;--"Was he young? was he handsome? washe a good man? But, oh _that_ was of course. "

"No, not of course at all, " Kate answered, almost with impatience. "Shesupposed he was not a bad man; but he wasn't good in their sense of theword--not in the least religious--and he was neither young nor handsome. "

A moment of disappointed silence followed this communication, then Elsiesaid, a little doubtfully, "Well, I suppose Gerty loves him, and is happyin the prospect of becoming his wife?"

"Happy?" returned Kate, with a contemptuous sniff. "Well, I suppose sheought to be; she is getting what she wanted--plenty of money and asplendid establishment; but as to loving Mr. Victor Larrabee--I couldabout as soon love a--snake; and so could she. He always makes me think ofone. "

"Oh, Kate! and will she marry him?" both exclaimed in horror. 

"She's promised to and doesn't seem inclined to draw back, " replied Katewith indifference. Then bursting into a laugh, "Girls, " she said, "I'vehad an offer too, and mamma would have had me accept it, but it didn'tsuit my ideas. The man himself is well enough, I don't really dislike him;but such a name! Hogg! only think of it! I told mamma that I didn't wantto live in a sty, if it was lined with gold. "

"No, I don't believe I could feel willing to wear that name, " said Violetlaughing. "But if his name suited, would you marry him without lovinghim?"

"I suppose so; I like riches, and mamma says such wealthy men as Mr. Hoggand Mr. Larrabee are not to be picked up every day. "

"But, oh, it wouldn't be right, Kate! because you have to promise tolove. "

"Oh, that's a mere form!" returned Kate with a yawn. "Gerty says she'smarrying for love--not of the man but his money, " and Kate laughed as ifit was an excellent joke. 

The other two looked grave and distressed, their mother had taught themthat to give the hand without the heart was folly and sin. 

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOURTH. 

 "There's many a slip Twixt the cup and the lip. "

The Travillas were all invited to Gertrude's wedding; but as it was to bea very grand affair, the invitation was declined because of their recentbereavement. 

Mr. Ross had not seen his intended son-in-law, nor did he know howmercenary were Gertrude's motives. He took it for granted that she wouldnot, of her own free will, consent to marry a man who was not at leastagreeable to her, though he certainly thought it odd that she should fancyone over forty years older than herself. 

He made some inquiries relative to the man's character and circumstances, and learning that he was really very wealthy, and bore a respectablereputation, as the world goes, gave his consent to the match. 

The preparations went on; dresses and jewels were ordered from Paris, invitations issued to several hundred guests, and the reception rooms oftheir city residence refurnished for the occasion; money was poured outwithout stint to provide the wedding feasts and flowers, rich and rare, for the adornment of the house, and the persons of the girls. 

Gertrude did not seem unhappy, but was in a constant state of excitement, and would not allow herself a moment to think. 

Ten days before that appointed for the ceremony, the bridegroom arrived inthe city, and called upon the family. 

Mr. Ross did not like his countenance, and wondered more than ever at hisdaughter's choice. 

He waited till Mr. Larrabee was gone, then sent for her to come to him inthe library. 

She came, looking surprised and annoyed. "What is it, papa?" she saidimpatiently. "Please be as brief as you can; because I've a world ofthings to attend to. "

"So many that you have not a moment to spare for the father you are goingto leave so soon?" he said a little sadly. 

"Oh, don't remind me of that!" she cried, a sudden change coming over hermanner. "I can't bear to think of it!" and creeping up to him, she put herarms around his neck, while a tear trembled in her eye. 

"Nor I, " he said, caressing her; "not even if I knew you were going to bevery happy so far away from me; and I fear you are not. Gertrude, do youlove that man?"

"Why what a question coming from my practical father!" she said, forcing alaugh. "I am choosing for myself, marrying of my own free will; is notthat sufficient?"

"I tell you candidly, Gertrude, " he answered, "I do not like Mr. Larrabee's looks. I cannot think it possible that you can love him, and Ibeg of you if you do not, to draw back even now at this late hour. "

"It is too late, papa, " she returned, growing cold and hard; "and I do notwish it. Is this all you wanted to say to me?"

"Yes, " he said, releasing her with a sigh. 

She glided from the room and he spent the next half hour in pacing slowlyback and forth with his head bowed upon his breast. 

The door bell rang and the servant came in with a card. 

Mr. Ross glanced at it, read the name with a look of pleased surprise, andsaid, "Show the gentleman in here. "

The next moment the two were shaking hands and greeting each other as oldand valued friends. 

"I'm very glad to see you, Gordon!" exclaimed Mr. Ross; "but what happychance brought you here? Are you not residing somewhere in the West?"

"Yes; in St. Louis; and it is not a happy chance, but a painful duty thathas brought me to you to-night. "

He spoke hurriedly, as if to be done with an unpleasant task, and Mr. Ross's pulses throbbed at the sudden recollection that Larrabee also wasa resident of St. Louis. 

He turned a quick, inquiring look upon his friend. "Out with it, man! I'min no mood to wait, whether it be good news or ill. "

Gordon glanced toward the door. 

Mr. Ross stepped to it and turned the key; then coming back, seatedhimself close to his friend with the air of one who is ready for anything. 

"Phil, my old chum, " said Gordon, clapping him affectionately on theshoulder, "I heard the other day in St. Louis, that Larrabee was about tomarry a daughter of yours, and I took the first eastern bound train andtraveled night and day to get here in time to put a stop to the thing. Ihope I'm not too late. "

"What do you know of the man?" asked Mr. Ross steadily and looking Gordonfull in the eye, but with a paling cheek. 

"Know of him? that he made all his money by gambling; that he is amurderer. "

The last word was spoken low and close to the listener's ear. 

Mr. Ross started back--horrified--deadly pale. 

"Gordon! do you know whereof you affirm?" he asked low and huskily. 

"I do; I had the account from one who was an eye-witness of the affair. Heis dead now, and I do not suppose it would be possible to prove the thingin a court of justice; but nevertheless I assure you it is true. 

"It was thirty years ago, on a Mississippi steamer, running between St. Louis and New Orleans, that the deed was done. 

"Larrabee, then a professional black-leg, was aboard, plying his trade. Myinformant, a man whose veracity I could not doubt, was one of a group ofbystanders, who saw him (Larrabee) fleece a young man out of severalthousand dollars--all he had in the world--then, enraged by some tauntingwords from his victim, pull out a pistol and shoot him through the heart, just as they sat there on opposite sides of the gaming table; then withhis revolver still in his hand, threatening with terrible oaths andcurses, to shoot down any man who should attempt to stop him, he rushed ondeck, jumped into the river, swam ashore and disappeared in the woods. "

"Horrible, horrible!" groaned Mr. Ross, hiding his face in his hands. "Andthis murderer, this fiend in human form, would have married my daughter!"he cried, starting up in strong excitement. "Why was he suffered toescape? Where is he now?"

"The whole thing passed so quickly, my informant said, that every oneseemed stunned, paralyzed with horror and fright till the scoundrel hadmade good his escape; beside there were several others of the same stampon board--desperate fellows, probably belonging to the same gang--whowere evidently ready to make common cause with the ruffian. 

"That part of our country was, you know, in those days, infested withdesperadoes and outlaws. "

"Yes, yes; but what is to be done now? I shall of course send a note toLarrabee, at his hotel, telling him that all is at an end between him andGertrude, forbidding him the house, and intimating that the sooner heleaves the vicinity the better. But--Gordon, I can never thank yousufficiently for this kindness; will you add to it by keeping the thing toyourself for the present? I wouldn't for the world have the story get intothe papers. "

"Certainly, Ross!" returned his friend, grasping his hand in adieu. "Iunderstand how you feel. There is but one person beside ourselves, whoknows my errand here, and I can answer for his silence. "

"Who is it?"

"Mr. Hogg, a friend of your wife and daughters. "

The news brought by Mr. Gordon sent both Gertrude and her mother intoviolent hysterics, and Mr. Ross and an old nurse who had been in thefamily for years, had their hands full for the rest of the night. It was asore wound to the pride of both mother and daughter. 

"The scoundrel! the wretch! the villain!" cried Gertrude. "I can neverhold up my head again; everybody will be talking about me, and thoseenvious Miss Petitts and their mother will say, 'It's just good enough forher; serves her right for being so proud of the grand match she was goingto make. ' Oh dear, oh dear! why couldn't that Gordon have staid away andheld his tongue!"

"Gertrude!" exclaimed her father, in anger and astonishment, "is this yourgratitude to him for saving you from being the wife of a gambler andmurderer? You might well be thankful to him and to a Higher Power, foryour happy escape. "

"Yes, of course, " said Lucy. "But what are we to do? the invitations areall out. Oh dear, dear, was there ever such a wretched piece of business!Phil, it's real good in you not to reproach me. "

"'Twould be useless now, " he sighed, "and I think the reproaches of yourown conscience must be sufficient. Not that I would put all the blame onyou, though. A full share of it belongs to me. "

By morning both ladies had recovered some degree of calmness, but Gertrudeobstinately refused to leave her room, or to see any one who might call, even her most intimate friend. 

"Tell them I'm sick, " she said, "it'll be true enough, for I have an awfulheadache. "

It was to her mother who had been urging her to come down to breakfast, that she was speaking. 

"Well, I shall send up a cup of tea, " said Mrs. Ross. "But, what is this?"as the maid entered with a note. "It's directed to you, Gertrude. "

"From him, I presume, " Gertrude said, as the girl went out and closed thedoor. "Throw it into the fire, mother, or no; I'll send it back unopened. "

"It is not his hand, " said Mrs. Ross, closely scrutinizing the address. 

"Then give it to me, please;" and almost snatching it from her mother'shand, Gertrude tore it open, and glanced hastily over its contents. 

"Yes, I'll see him! he'll be here directly; and I must look my best!" sheexclaimed, jumping up and beginning to take down her crimps. 

"See him? Gertrude, are you mad? Your father will never allow it. "

"Mr. Hogg, mother. "

"Oh!"

They exchanged glances and smiles. Mrs. Ross hurried down to breakfast, not to keep her husband waiting, and Gertrude presently followed inhandsome morning toilet, and in apparently quite gay spirits; a triflepale, but only enough so to make her interesting, her mother said. 

Mr. Ross and Philip, Jr. , had already gone away to their place ofbusiness, Sophie and the younger boys to school, and only Mrs. Ross andKate were left, the latter of whom had little to say, but regarded hersister with a sort of contemptuous pity. 

Gertrude had scarcely finished her meal, when the door-bell rang, and shewas summoned to the drawing-room to receive her visitor. 

The wedding came off at the appointed time. There was a change ofbridegrooms, that was all; and few could decide whether the invitationshad been a ruse, so far as he was concerned--or if that were not so, howthe change had been brought about. 

In a long letter to Violet Travilla, Kate Ross gave the details of thewhole affair. 

A strange, sad story it seemed to Vi and her sister. They could not in theleast understand how Gertrude could feel or act as she had done, andfeared she would find, as Kate expressed it, "even a gold lined sty, but ahard bed to lie in, with no love to soften it. "

"Still, " they said to each other, "it was better, a thousand times better, than marrying that dreadful Mr. Larrabee. "

For Kate had assured them Mr. Hogg was "an honest, honorable man, and notill-tempered; only an intolerable bore--so stupid and uninteresting. "

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIFTH. 

 "Whatsoever a man soweth, that shall he also reap. " --GAL. Vi. 7. 

Elsie and her children returned home healthful and happy, with scarce anybut pleasing recollections of the months that had just passed. 

Not so with Mrs. Conly and Virginia. They seemed soured and disappointed;nothing had gone right with them; their finery was all spoiled, and theywere worn out--with the journey they said, but in reality far more by latehours and dissipation of one sort and another. 

The flirtation with Captain Brice had not ended in anythingserious--except the establishing of a character for coquetry forVirginia--nor had several others which followed in quick succession. 

The girl had much ado to conceal her chagrin; she had started out withbright hopes of securing a brilliant match, and now, though not yettwenty, began to be haunted with the terrible, boding fear of oldmaidenhood. 

She confided her trouble to Isadore one day, when a fit of extremedepression had made her unusually communicative. 

Isa could scarce forbear smiling, but checked the inclination. 

"It is much too soon to despair, Virgy, " she said; "but indeed, I do notthink the prospect of living single need make one wretched. "

"Perhaps not you, who are an heiress; but it's another thing for poor, penniless me. "

Isadore acknowledged that that probably did make a difference. 

"But, " she added, "I hope neither of us will ever be so silly as to marryfor money. I think it must be dreadful to live in such close connectionwith a man you do not love, even if he is rolling in wealth; but supposehe loses his money directly? There you are, tied to him for life withouteven riches to compensate you for your loss of liberty. "

"Dear me, Isa, how tiresome! Where's the use of supposing he's going tolose his money?"

"Because it's something not at all unlikely to happen; riches do takewings and fly away. I do not feel certain that Aunt Delaford's money willever come to me, or that, if it does, I may not lose it. So I intend toprepare to support myself if it should ever become necessary. "

"How?"

"I intend to take up the English branches again, also the highermathematics, and make myself thorough in them (which I am far from beingnow; they do not teach them thoroughly at the convent), so that I may beable to command a good position as a teacher. 

"And let me advise you to do the same. "

"Indeed, I've no fancy for such hard work, " sneered Virginia. "I'd rathertrust to luck. I'll be pretty sure to be taken care of somehow. "

"I should think if any one might feel justified in doing that it would beCousin Elsie, " said Isadore; "but Uncle Horace educated her in a way tomake her quite capable of earning her own living, and she is doing thesame by every one of her children. "

"Such nonsense!" muttered Virginia. 

"Such prudence and forethought, I should say, " laughed her sister. 

A few days after this Isadore was calling at Ion and in the course ofconversation Mrs. Travilla remarked, with concern, "Virginia looks reallyunhappy of late. Is her trouble anything it would be in my power torelieve?"

"No; unless she would listen to good counsel from you. It is reallynothing serious; and yet I suppose it seems so to her. I'm almost ashamedto tell you, cousin, but as far as I can learn it is nothing in the worldbut the fear of old-maidenhood, " Isa answered, half laughing. 

Elsie smiled. 

"Tell her from me that there is plenty of time yet. She is two or threeyears younger than I was when I married, and, " she added with a bright, happy look, "I have never thought I lost anything by waiting. "

"I'm sure you didn't, mamma, " said Violet, who was present. "But how veryodd of Virgy to trouble about that! I'm glad people don't have to marry, because I shall never, never be willing to leave my dear home, and myfather and mother. Especially not to live with some stranger. "

"I hope it may be some years before you change your mind in regard tothat, " her mother responded with a loving look. 

Elsie was not bringing up her daughters to consider marriage the chief endof woman; she had, indeed, said scarcely anything on the subject till hereldest was of an age to begin to mix a little in general society; then shetalked quietly and seriously to them of the duties and responsibilities ofthe married state and the vast importance of making a wise choice inselecting a partner for life. 

In their childhood she had never allowed them to be teased about beaux. She could not prevent their hearing, occasionally, something of the kind, but she did her best to counteract the evil influence, and had succeededso well in that, and in making home a delight, that her children one andall, shunned the thought of leaving it, and her girls were as easy andfree from self-consciousness in the society of gentlemen as in that ofladies; never bold or forward; there was nothing in their manner thatcould give the slightest encouragement to undue familiarity. 

And then both she and their father had so entwined themselves about thehearts of their offspring, that all shared the feeling expressed byViolet, and truly believed that nothing less than death could everseparate them from these beloved parents. 

There was a good deal to bring the subject of marriage prominently beforetheir minds just at present, for the event of the winter was the bringinghome of a wife by their Uncle Horace, and "Aunt Rosie" was to be marriedin the ensuing spring. 

The approaching Centennial was another topic of absorbing interest. 

That they might reap the full benefit of the great Exhibition, they wentNorth earlier than usual, the middle of May finding them in quietoccupancy of a large, handsome, elegantly furnished mansion in thevicinity of the Park. 

Here they kept open house, entertaining a large circle of relatives andfriends drawn thither, by a desire to see this great world's fair. 

The Dalys were with them, husband and wife each in the same capacity as atIon, which left Mr. And Mrs. Travilla free to come and go as they wished, either with or without their children. 

They kept their own carriages and horses and when at home drove almostdaily to the Exhibition. 

Going there with parents and tutor, and being able to devote so much timeto it, the young people gathered a great store of general information. 

Poor Molly's inability to walk, shut her out from several of thebuildings, but she gave the more time and careful study to those whosecontents were brought within her reach by the rolling chairs. 

Her cousins gave her glowing descriptions of the treasures of the Artbuilding, Horticultural Hall, Women's Department, etc. , and sincerelysympathized with her in her deprivation of the pleasure of examining themfor herself. 

But Molly was learning submission and contentment with her lot, and wouldsmilingly reply that she considered herself highly favored in being ableto see so much, since there were millions of people even in our own land, who could not visit the Exhibition at all. 

One morning, early in the season, when as yet the crowd was not verygreat, the whole family had gone in a body to Machinery Hall to see theCorliss engine. 

They were standing near it, silently gazing, when a voice was heard in therear. 

"Ah, ha! ah, ha! um h'm; ah, ha! what think ye o' that now, my lads? is itworth looking at?"

"That it is, sir!" responded a younger voice in manly tones, full ofadmiration, while at the same instant, Elsie turned quickly round with theexclamation, "Cousin Ronald!"

"Cousin Elsie, " he responded, as hand grasped hand in cordial greeting. 

"I'm so glad to see you!" she said. "But why did you not let us know youwere coming? Did you not receive my invitation?"

"No, I did not, cousin, and thought to give you a surprise. Ah, Travilla, the sight of your pleasant face does one good like a medicine. 

"And these bonny lads and lasses; can they be the little bairns of eightyears ago? How they have grown and increased in number too?" he said, glancing around the little circle. 

He shook hands with each, then introduced his sons, two tall, well built, comely young men, aged respectively twenty and twenty-two, whom he hadbrought with him over the sea. 

Malcom was the name of the eldest, the other he called Hugh. 

They had arrived in Philadelphia only the day before, and were putting upat the Continental. 

"That will not do at all, Cousin Ronald, " Elsie said when told this. "Youmust all come immediately to us, and make our house your home as long asyou stay. "

Mr. Travilla seconded her invitation, and after some urging, it wasaccepted. 

It proved an agreeable arrangement for all concerned. "Cousin Ronald" wasthe same genial companion that he had been eight years before, and the twolads were worthy of their sire, intelligent and well-informed, frank, simple hearted and true. 

The young people made acquaintance very rapidly. The Exposition was atheme of great and common interest, discussed at every meal, and on thedays when they stayed at home to rest; for all found it necessary to do sooccasionally, while some of the ladies and little ones could scarcelyendure the fatigue of attending two days in succession. 

Then through the months of July and August, they made excursions tovarious points of interest, spending usually several days at each;sometimes a week or two. 

In this way they visited Niagara Falls, Lakes Ontario, George andChamplain, the White Mountains, and different seaside resorts. 

At one of these last, they met Lester Leland again. The Travillas had notseen him for nearly a year, but had heard of his welfare through theLelands of Fairview. 

All seemed pleased to renew the old familiar intercourse; an easy matter, as they were staying at the same hotel. 

Lester was introduced to the Scotch cousins, as an old friend of thefamily. 

Mr. Lilburn and he exchanged a hearty greeting and chatted together veryamicably, but Malcom and Hugh were only distantly polite to the newcomerand eyed him askance, jealous of the favor shown him by their young ladycousins, whose sweet society they would have been glad to monopolize. 

But this they soon found was impossible even could they have banishedLeland; for Herbert Carrington, Philip Ross, Dick Percival and hisfriends, and several others soon appeared upon the scene. 

Elsie was now an acknowledged young lady; Violet in her own estimation andthat of her parents', still a mere child; but her height, her gracefulcarriage and unaffected ease of manner--which last was the combined resultof native refinement and constant association with the highly polished andeducated, united to childlike simplicity of character and utter absence ofself-consciousness--often led strangers into the mistake of supposing herseveral years older than she really was. 

Her beauty, too, and her genius for music and painting added to herattractiveness, so that altogether, the gentlemen were quite as ready topay court to her as to her sister, and had she been disposed to receivetheir attentions, or to push herself forward in the least, her parentswould have found it difficult to prevent her entering society earlier thanwas for her good. 

But like her mother before her, Vi was in no haste to assume the dutiesand responsibilities of womanhood. Only fifteen she was

 "Standing with reluctant feet Where the brook and river meet, Womanhood and childhood fleet. "

Hugh Lilburn and Herbert Carrington both regarded her with covetous eyes, and both asked permission of her father to pay their addresses, butreceived the same answer;--that she was too young yet to be approached onthat subject. 

"Well, Mr. Travilla, if you say that to every one, as no doubt you do, I'mwilling to wait, " said Herbert going off tolerably contented. 

But Hugh, reddening with the sudden recollection that Violet was anheiress, and his portion a very moderate one, stammered out somethingabout hoping he was not mistaken for a fortune hunter, and that he wouldmake no effort to win her until he was in circumstances to do so withpropriety. 

"My dear fellow, " said Mr. Travilla, "do not for a moment imagine that hasanything to do with my refusal. I do not care to find rich husbands for mydaughters, and were Violet of proper age, should have but one objection toyou as a suitor; that you would be likely to carry her far away from us. "

"No, no, sir, I wouldn't!" exclaimed the lad warmly. "I like America, andthink I shall settle here. And sir, I thank you most heartily for yourkind words. But, as I've said, I won't ask again till I can do so withpropriety. "

Leland, too, admired Violet extremely, and loved her with brotherlyaffection; but it was Elsie who had won his heart. 

But he had never whispered a word of this to her, or to any humancreature, for he was both poor and proud, and had firmly resolved not toseek her hand until his art should bring him fame and fortune to lay ather feet. 

Similar considerations alone held Malcom Lilburn back, and each wastortured with the fear that the other would prove a successful rival. 

Philip Ross, too, was waiting to grow rich, but feared no rival in themeantime; so satisfied was he that no one could be so attractive to Elsieas himself. 

"She's waiting for me, " he said to his mother, "and she will wait. She'sjust friendly and kind to those other fellows, but it's plain she doesn'tcare a pin for any of them. "

"I'm not so sure of that, Phil, " returned Mrs. Ross; "some one may cut youout. Have you spoken to her yet? Is there a regular engagement betweenyou?"

"Oh, no! but we understand each other; always have since we were merebabies. "

Mrs. Ross and her daughters had accompanied Philip to the shore, and itpleased Lucy greatly that they had been able to obtain rooms in the samehouse with their old friends, the Travillas. 

Mr. Hogg was of the party also, and Elsie and Violet had now anopportunity to judge of the happiness of Gertrude's married life. 

They were not greatly impressed with it; husband and wife seemed to havefew interests in common, and to be rather bored with each other'ssociety. 

Mr. Hogg had a fine equipage, and drove out a great deal, sometimes withhis wife, sometimes without; both dressed handsomely and spent moneylavishly; but he did not look happy, and Gertrude, when off her guard, wore a discontented, care-worn expression. 

Mrs. Ross was full of cares and anxieties, and one day she unburdened herheart to her childhood's friend. 

They were sitting alone together on the veranda upon which Mrs. Travilla'sroom opened, waiting for the summons to the tea-table. 

"I have no peace of my life, Elsie, " Lucy said fretfully; "one can't helpsympathizing with one's children, and my girls don't seem happy likeyours. 

"Kate's lively and pleasant enough in company, but at home she's dull andspiritless; and though Gertrude has made what is considered an excellentmatch, she doesn't seem to enjoy life; she's easily fretted, and wantschange and excitement all the time. "

"Perhaps matters may improve with her, " Elsie said, longing to comfortLucy. "Some couples have to learn to accommodate themselves to eachother. "

"Well, I hope it may be so, " Lucy responded, sighing as though the hopewere faint indeed. 

"And Kate may grow happier, too; dear Lucy, if you could only lead her toChrist, I am sure she would, " Elsie went on low and tenderly. 

Mrs. Ross shook her head, tears trembling in her eyes. 

"How can I? I have not found him myself yet. Ah, Elsie, I wish I'd begunas you did. You have some comfort in your children; I've none in mine. 

"That is, " she added, hastily correcting herself, "not as much as I oughtto have, except in Phil; he's doing well; yet even he's not half sothoughtful and affectionate toward his father and mother as your boys are. But then of course he's of a different disposition. "

"Your younger boys seem fine lads, " Elsie said; "and Sophie has a winningway. "

Lucy looked pleased, then sighed, "They _are_ nice children, but sowilful; and the boys so venturesome. I've no peace when they are out of mysight, lest they should be in some danger. "

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIXTH. 

 "Oh, Lord! methought what pain it was to drown!" --SHAKESPEARE. 

Cousin Ronald was a great favorite with his young relatives. Harold andHerbert had long since voted him quite equal, if not superior to CaptainBrice as a story-teller; his narratives were fully as interesting, andbeside always contained a moral or some useful information. 

There were tales of the sea, wild tales of the Highlands and of theScottish Border; stories of William Wallace, of the Bruce and the BlackDouglass, in all of which the children greatly delighted. 

Mr. Lilburn's ventriloquial powers were used for their amusement also, andaltogether they found him a very entertaining companion. 

Rosie holding a shell to her ear one day, was sent into ecstasies ofdelight, by hearing low, sweet strains of music, apparently coming fromthe inside of it. 

At another time, as she stooped to pick up a dead crab while wanderingalong the beach, she started back in dismay at hearing it scream out in ashrill, tiny voice, "Don't touch me! I'll pinch you, if you do. "

The merry laugh of the boys told her that it was "only Cousin Ronald, " butshe let the crab alone, keeping at a respectful distance from its claws. 

This was on the evening spoken of in our last chapter, and while her mammaand Aunt Lucy were chatting together in the veranda, waiting for the callto tea. 

It sounded presently, and Cousin Ronald and the children started on a runfor the house, trying who could get there first. 

Harold showed himself the fleetest of foot, Herbert and Frank Daly wereclose at his heels, while Mr. Lilburn, with Rosie in one hand and littleWalter in the other, came puffing and blowing not far behind. 

"Won't you take us another walk, cousin?" asked Rosie when they came outagain after the meal. 

"Yes, " he said, "this is a very pleasant time to be down on the beach. Come lads, " to Harold and Herbert, "will you go along?"

They were only too glad to accept the invitation, and the four saunteredleisurely down to the water's edge, where they strolled along watching theincoming tide. 

"I love the sea, " said Rosie. "I wish we could take it home with us. "

"We have a lake and must be content with that, " said Herbert, picking up astone and sending it far out, to fall with a splash in among the restlesswaves; "we can't have everything in one place. "

"Did you ever see a mermaid, Rosie?" asked Mr. Lilburn. 

"No, sir; what is it?"

"They're said to live in the sea, and to be half fish and half woman. "

"Ugh! that's dreadful! I wouldn't like to be half of a fish. But I wish Icould see one. Are there any in our sea here, Cousin Ronald?"

"They're said to have very long hair, " he went on, not noticing her query, "and to come out of the water and sit on the rocks, sometimes, while theycomb it out with their fingers and sing. "

"Sing! Oh, I'd like to hear 'em! I wish one would come and sit on that bigrock 'way out there. "

"Look sharp now and see if there is one there. Hark! don't you hear hersing?"

Rosie and the boys stood still, listening intently, and in another momentstrains of music seemed to come to them from over the water, from thedirection of the rock. 

"Oh, I do! I do!" screamed Rosie, in delight. "O, boys can you hear her, too? can you see her?"

"I hear singing, " said Harold, smiling, "but I think the rock is bare. "

"I hear the music too, " remarked Herbert, "but I suppose Cousin Ronaldmakes it. A mermaid's only a fabled creature. "

"Fabled? what's that?"

"Only pretend. "

"Ah now, what a pity!"

At that instant a piercing scream seemed to come from the sea out beyondthe surf, some yards higher up the coast. "Help! help! I'll drown, I'lldrown!"

Instantly Harold was off like a shot, in the direction of the sound, tearing off his coat as he went, while Herbert screaming "somebody'sdrowning! The life boat! the life boat!" rushed away toward the hotel. 

"Lads! lads!" cried Mr. Lilburn, putting himself to his utmost speed toovertake Harold in time to prevent him from plunging into the sea, "are yemad? are ye daft? There's nobody there, lads; 'twas only Cousin Ronald athis old tricks again. "

As he caught up to Harold, the boy's coat and vest lay on the ground, andhe was down beside them, tugging at his boots and shouting "Hold on! I'mcoming, " while a great wave came rolling in and dashed over him, wettinghim from head to foot. 

"No, ye're not!" cried Mr. Lilburn, laying a tight grasp upon his arm;"there's nobody there; and if there was, what could a bit, frail laddielike you do to rescue him? You'd only be dragged under yourself. "

"Nobody there? oh, I'm so glad!" cried Harold with a hearty laugh, as hejumped up, snatched his clothes from the ground and sprang hastily backjust in time to escape the next wave. "But you gave us a real scare thistime, Cousin Ronald. "

"You gave me one, " said Mr. Lilburn, joining in the laugh. "I thoughtyou'd be in the sea and may be out of reach of help before I could catchup to you. You took no time to deliberate. "

"Deliberate when somebody was drowning? There wouldn't have been a secondto lose. "

"You'd just have thrown your own life away, lad, if there had been anybodythere. Don't you know it's an extremely hazardous thing for a man toattempt to rescue a drowning person? They're so apt to catch, and grip youin a way to deprive you of the power to help yourself and to drag youunder with them. 

"I honor you for your courage, but I wish, my boy, you'd promise me neverto do the like again; at least not till you're grown up and have somestrength. "

"And leave a fellow-creature to perish!" cried the boy almost indignantly. "O cousin, could you ask me to be so selfish?"

"Not selfish, lad; only prudent. If you want to rescue a drowning man, throw him a rope, or reach him the end of a pole, or do anything else youcan without putting yourself within reach of his hands. "

Rosie, left behind by all her companions, looked this way and that infright and perplexity, then ran after Herbert; as that was the directionto take her to her father and mother. 

Mr. Travilla and Eddie had started toward the beach to join the others andwere the first to hear Herbert's cry. 

"Oh, it was Cousin Ronald, " said the latter; "nobody goes in bathing atthis hour. "

"Probably, " said his father, "yet--ah, there's the life boat out now andmoving toward the spot. "

With that they all ran in the same direction and came up to Mr. Lilburnand Harold just as the boy had resumed his coat and the gentlemanconcluded his exhortation. 

They all saw at once that Eddie had been correct in his conjecture. 

"Hallo! where's your drowning man?" he called. "Or, was it a woman?"

"Ask Cousin Ronald, " said Harold laughing, "he's best acquainted with theperson. "

"A hoax was it?" asked Mr. Travilla. "Well, I'm glad things are no worse. Run home my son, and change your clothes; you're quite wet. "

"I fear I owe you an apology, sir, " said Mr. Lilburn; "but the fact is I'da great desire to try the mettle of the lads, and I believe they're bravefellows, both, and not lacking in that very useful and commendable qualitycalled presence of mind. "

"Thank you, sir, " Mr. Travilla said, turning upon his boys a glance offatherly pride that sent a thrill of joy to their young hearts. 

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVENTH. 

 "Nursed by the virtues she hath been From childhood's hour. " --HALLECK. 

 "Count all th' advantage prosperous vice attains, 'Tis but what virtue flies from and disdains; And grant the bad what happiness they would, One they must want--which is to pass for good. " --POPE. 

Mrs. Travilla was sitting on the veranda of the hotel, reading a letterher husband had handed her at the tea-table, when Violet came rushingtoward her in wild affright. 

"Mamma, mamma, something's wrong! something's happened! Herbie just camerunning up from the beach, calling for the life boat, and papa and Eddiehave gone back with him running as fast as they can. Oh, I'm afraid Haroldor Rosie has fallen into the water!" she added bursting into hystericalweeping. 

Her mother rose hastily, thrusting the letter into her pocket, pale butcalm. 

"Daughter dear, we will not meet trouble half way. I do not think it couldbe they; for they are not disobedient or venturesome. But come. " Andtogether they hurried toward the beach. 

In a moment they perceived that their fears were groundless, for theycould see their dear ones coming to meet them. 

Violet's tears were changed to laughter as Harold gave a humorous accountof "Cousin Ronald's sell, " as he called it, and the latter's praise of theboy's bravery and readiness to respond to the cry for help, brought proud, happy smiles to the lips and eyes of both mother and sisters. 

Elsie had joined them; Mrs. Ross, too, and a handsome, richly dressed, middle-aged lady, whom she introduced as her friend, Mrs. Faude, fromKentucky. 

They, as Lucy afterward told Elsie, had made acquaintance the year beforeat Saratoga, and were glad to meet again. 

Mrs. Faude was much taken with Elsie and her daughters, pleased, indeed, with the whole family, and from that time forward sought their societyvery frequently. 

Elsie found her an entertaining companion, polished in manners, refined, intelligent, highly educated and witty; but a mere worldling, caring forthe pleasures and rewards of this life only. 

She was a wealthy widow with but one child, a grown up son, of whom shetalked a great deal. 

"Clarence Augustus" was evidently, in his mother's eyes, the perfection ofmanly beauty and grace, a great genius, and indeed everything that couldbe desired. 

"He is still single, " she one day said significantly to the younger Elsie, "though I know plenty of lovely girls, desirable matches in every way, whowould have been delighted with the offer of his hand. Yes, my dear, I amquite sure of it, " she added, seeing a slight smile of incredulity on theyoung girl's face; "only wait till you have seen him. He will be hereto-morrow. "

Elsie was quite willing to wait, and no dreams of Mrs. Faude's idoldisturbed either her sleeping or waking hours. 

Clarence Augustus made his appearance duly the next day at the dinnertable; a really handsome man, if regular features and fine coloring be allthat is necessary to constitute good looks; but his face wore anexpression of self-satisfaction and contempt for others, which was notattractive to our Ion friends. 

But it soon became evident to them, that to most of the other ladies inthe house, he was an object of admiration. 

His mother seized an early opportunity to introduce him to the MissesTravilla, coming upon them as they stood talking together upon theveranda. 

But they merely bowed and withdrew, having, fortunately, an engagement todrive, at that hour, with their parents and cousins, along the beach. 

"What do you think of him?" asked Violet, when they had reached theirroom. 

"He has good features, and a polished address. "

"Yes; but do you like his looks?"

"No; I do not desire his acquaintance. "

"Nor I; he's not the sort that papa and grandpa would wish us to know. "

"No; so let us keep out of his way. "

"But without seeming to do so?"

"Oh, yes; as far as we can. We don't wish to hurt his feelings or hismother's. "

They carried out their plan of avoidance, and so skilfully that neithermother nor son was quite sure it was intended. In fact, it was difficultfor them to believe that any girl could wish to shun the attentions of ayoung man so attractive in every way as was Clarence Augustus Faude. 

"I should like you to marry one of those girls, " the mother said to herson, chatting alone with him in her own room; "you could not do better, for they are beautiful, highly educated and accomplished, and will havelarge fortunes. "

"Which?" he added sententiously, and with a smile that seemed to say, hewas conscious that he had only to take his choice. 

"I don't care; there's hardly a pin to choose between them. "

"Just my opinion. Well, I think I shall go for the brown eyes; as you tellme the other is not yet out, and I hear the father refuses, on that plea, to allow any one to pay his addresses--though, between you and me, Mrs. F. , I fancy he might make an exception in my favor. "

"It would not surprise me, Clarence Augustus, " she responded, regardinghim with a proud, fond smile, "I fancy he must be aware that there's nobetter match in the Union. But you have no time to lose, they may leavehere any day. "

"True, but what's to hinder us from following? However, I will take youradvice, and lose no time. Let me borrow your writing desk for a moment. I'll ask her to drive with me this morning, and while we're out secure hercompany for the boating party that's to come off to-morrow. "

A few moments later the younger Elsie came into her mother's room with anote written in a manly hand, on delicately perfumed and tinted Frenchpaper. 

"What shall I do about it, mamma?" she asked. "Will you answer it for me. Of course you know I do not wish to accept. "

"I will, daughter, " Mrs. Travilla said, "though if he were such a man as Icould receive into my family on friendly terms, I should prefer to haveyou answer it yourself. "

Mr. Faude's very handsome carriage and horses were at the door, a liveriedservant holding the reins, while the gentleman himself waited in theparlor for the coming of the young lady, who, he doubted not, would bewell pleased to accept his invitation. He was not kept waiting long; had, indeed, scarcely seated himself and taken up the morning paper, when Mr. Travilla's Ben appeared with a note, presented it in grave silence, andwith a respectful bow, withdrew. 

"Hold on! It may require an answer, " Mr. Faude called after him. 

"No, sah; Mrs. Travilla say dere's no answer, " returned Ben, looking backfor an instant from the doorway, then vanishing through it. 

"All right!" muttered Clarence Augustus, opening the missive and glancingover the contents; an angry flush suffusing his face, as he read. 

"What is it? She hasn't declined, surely?" Mrs. Faude asked in anundertone, close at his side. 

"Just that; it's from the mother; thanks me for the invitation, butrespectfully declines; not even vouchsafing a shadow of an excuse. Whatcan it mean?"

"I don't know, I'm sure. But if they knew you had serious intentions--itmight make a difference. "

"Possibly. I'll soon bring it to the proof. "

He rose and went out in search of Mr. Travilla, found him alone, and atonce asked his permission to pay his addresses to Elsie. 

The request was courteously, but decidedly and firmly refused. 

"May I ask why?" queried the young man in anger and astonishment. 

"Because, sir, it would not be agreeable to either my daughter herself, toher mother or to me. "

"Then I must say, sir, that you are all three hard to please. But pray, sir, what is the objection?"

"Do you insist upon knowing?"

"I do, sir. "

"Then let me answer your query with another. Would you pay your addressesto a young woman--however wealthy, beautiful or high-born--whose moralcharacter was not better, whose life had been no purer than your own?"

"Of course not!" exclaimed Faude, coloring violently, "but whoexpects----"

"I do, sir; I expect the husbands of my daughters to be as pure andstainless as my sons' wives. "

"I'm as good as the rest, sir. You'll not find one young fellow in fivehundred who has sowed fewer wild oats than I. "

"I fear that may be true enough, but it does not alter my decision, "returned Mr. Travilla, intimating by a bow and a slight wave of the hand, that he considered the interview at an end. 

Faude withdrew in anger, but with an intensified desire to secure thecoveted prize; the more difficult of acquisition, the more desirable itseemed. 

He persuaded his mother to become his advocate with Mrs. Travilla. 

She at first flatly refused, but at length yielded to his entreaties, andundertook the difficult, and to her haughty spirit, humiliating mission. 

Requesting a private interview with Elsie, she told her of the wishes ofClarence Augustus, and plead his cause with all the eloquence of which shewas mistress. 

"My boy would make your daughter a good husband, " she said, "and indeed, Ithink any woman might feel highly honored by the offer of his hand. I donot understand how it is, Mrs. Travilla, that a lady of your sense failsto see that. "

"I appreciate your feelings, my dear Mrs. Faude, " said Elsie gently. "I ama mother too, you know, and have sons of my own. "

"Yes, and what possible objection can you have to mine? Excuse my sayingit, but the one your husband advanced, seems to me simply absurd. "

"Nevertheless it is the only one; except that our child's heart is notenlisted; but either alone would be insuperable. "

"She hardly knows him yet, and could not fail to learn to love him if shedid. Be persuaded my dear Mrs. Travilla, to give him a chance to try. Itis never well to be hasty, especially in declining a good offer, and this, let me tell you, is such an one as you will not meet with every day, lovely and attractive in every way, as your daughters are. 

"Ours is an old, aristocratic family; none better to be found in ourstate, or in the Union; we have wealth too, and I flatter myself thatClarence Augustus is as handsome a man as you would find anywhere;amiable in disposition also, and would, as I said before, make anexcellent husband. Will you not undertake his cause?"

"Believe me, it is painful to me to refuse, but I could not, inconscience. "

"But why not?"

"Simply for the reason my husband gave. We both consider moral purity moreessential than anything else in those we admit to even friendlyintercourse with our children; especially our daughters. "

"My son is not a bad man, Mrs. Travilla, very far from it!" Mrs. Faudeexclaimed, in the tone of one who considers herself grossly insulted. 

"Not, I am sure, as the world looks upon these things, " said Elsie, "butthe Bible is our standard; and guided by its teachings we desire above allthings else, purity of heart and life in those who seek the friendship ofour children; and very especially in those who are to become theirpartners for life, and the future fathers or mothers of their offspring, should it please God to give them any. "

"That is certainly looking far ahead, " returned Mrs. Faude, with a politesneer. 

"Not farther than is our duty, since after marriage it is too late toconsider, to any profit, what kind of parent our already irrevocablychosen partner for life will probably make. "

"Well, well, every one to her taste!" said Mrs. Faude, rising to go, "buthad I a daughter, I should infinitely prefer for her husband, such a youngman as my Clarence Augustus to such as that poor artist who is soattentive to Miss Travilla. 

"Good-morning. I am sure I may trust you not to blazon this matterabroad?"

"You certainly may, Mrs. Faude, " Elsie returned with sweet and gentlecourtesy, "and believe me, it has been very painful to me to speak wordsthat have given pain to you. "

"What is it, little wife?" Mr. Travilla asked, coming in a moment afterMrs. Faude's departure and finding Elsie alone and seemingly sunk in apainful reverie. 

She repeated what had just passed, adding, "I am very glad now that wedecided to return to Philadelphia to-morrow. I could see that Mrs. Faudewas deeply offended, and it would be unpleasant to both of us to remainlonger in the same house; but as she and her son go with the boating partyto-day, and we leave early in the morning, we are not likely to encountereach other again. "

"Yes, it is all for the best, " he said. "But I wish I could have shieldedyou from this trial. "

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHTH. 

 "The brave man is not he who feels no fear, For that were stupid and irrational; But he whose soul its fear subdues, And bravely dares the danger nature shrinks from. " --BAILLIE. 

The Travillas returned home to Ion in November and took up with new zestthe old and loved routine of study, work and play. 

Elsie was no longer a schoolgirl, but still devoted some hours of each dayto the cultivation of her mind and the keeping up of her accomplishments;also pursued her art studies with renewed ardor under the tuition ofLester Leland, who, his health requiring during the winter, a warmerclimate than that of his northern home, had come at the urgent request ofhis relatives, to spend the season at Fairview. 

Elsie had a number of gentlemen friends, some of whom she highly esteemed, but Lester's society was preferred to that of any other. 

Malcom Lilburn had grown very jealous of Lester, and found it difficultindeed to refrain from telling his love, but had gone away withoutbreathing a word of it to any one. 

Not to Scotland, however; he and his father were traveling through theWest, visiting the principal points of interest, and had partly promisedto take Ion in their way as they returned; which would probably not bebefore spring. 

Mr. And Mrs. Travilla were not exempt from the cares and trials incidentto our fallen state, but no happier parents could be found; they werealready reaping as they had sowed; indeed it seemed to them that they hadbeen reaping all the way along, so sweet was the return of affection fromthe little clinging, helpless ones, the care of whom had been no less apleasure than a sacred, God-given duty; but with each passing year theharvest grew richer and more abundant; the eldest three had become verycompanionable and the intercourse between the two Elsies was more likethat of sisters, than of mother and daughter; the young girl loved hermother's society above that of any other of her sex, and "mamma" wasstill, as she had ever been, her most intimate friend and confidante. 

And was it not wise? who so tender, faithful and prudent a guide andcounsellor as the mother to whom she was dearer than life. 

It was the same with the others also--both sons and daughters; and theywere scarcely less open with their wisely indulgent father. 

Life was not at all sunshine; the children had their faults which wouldoccasionally show themselves; but the parents, conscious of their ownimperfections, were patient and forbearing. They were sometimes triedwith sickness too, but it was borne with cheerful resignation; and no onecould say what the future held in store for any of them; but God reigned, the God whom they had chosen as their portion, and their inheritanceforever, and they left all with him, striving to obey the command to bewithout carefulness. 

The winter passed quietly, almost without incident save one. 

Eddie had been spending the afternoon with his cousins at Pinegrove (someof them were lads near his own age, and fine, intelligent, good boys), hadstayed to tea and was riding home alone, except that he had an attendantin the person of a young negro boy, who rode some yards in his rear. 

It was already dark when they started, but the stars shone down from aclear sky, although a keen, cold wind blew from the north. 

Part of the way lay through a wood, in the midst of which stood a hutoccupied by a family by the name of Smith, belonging to the class known as"poor whites"; shiftless, lazy, and consequently very poor indeed, theywere. Many efforts had been put forth in their behalf, by the families ofthe Oaks and Ion, and by others also, but thus far with small results, forit is no easy matter to effectually help those who will not try to helpthemselves. 

As Eddie entered the wood, he thought he smelt smoke, and presently asudden turn in the road brought into view the dwelling of the Smiths allwrapped in flames. 

Putting spurs to his horse, at the sight, Eddie flew along the roadshouting at the top of his lungs, "Fire! fire! fire!" Jim, his attendant, following his example. 

But there was no one within hearing, save the Smiths themselves. 

The head of the family, half stupefied with rum, stood leaning against thefence, his hands in the pockets of his ragged coat, a pipe in his mouth, gazing in a dazed sort of way upon the work of destruction; while the wifeand children ran hither and thither, screaming and wringing their handswith never a thought of an attempt to extinguish the flames or save any oftheir few poor possessions. 

"Sam Smith, " shouted Eddie, reining in his horse close to the individualaddressed, "why don't you drop that old pipe, take your hands out of yourpockets, and go to work to put out the fire!"

"Eh!" cried Sam, turning slowly round so as to face his interlocutor, "why--I--I--I couldn't do nothin'; it's bound to go--that house is; don'tyou see how the wind's a blowin'? Well, 'tain't much 'count nohow, and Iwouldn't care, on'y she says she's left the baby in there; so she does. "

"The baby?" and almost before the words had left his lips, Eddie hadcleared the rough rail fence at a bound, and was rushing toward theburning house. 

How the flames crackled and roared, seeming like demons greedily devouringall that came in their way. 

"That horse blanket, Jim! bring it here quick, quick!" he shouted back tohis servant. Then to the half-crazed woman, "Where is your baby? where didyou leave it?"

"In there, in there on the bed, oh, oh, it's burnin' all up! I forgot it, an' I couldn't get back. "

Eddie made one step backward, and ran his eye rapidly over the burningpile, calmly taking in the situation, considering whether the chances ofsuccess were sufficient to warrant the awful risk. 

It was the work of an instant to do that, snatch the blanket from Jim, wrap it around his person, and plunge in among the flames, smoke, andfalling firebrands, regardless of the boy's frightened protest, "Oh, Mr. Eddie don't; you'll be killed! you'll burn all up!"

He had looked into the cabin but a day or two before, and remembered inwhich corner stood the rude bed of the family, their only one. He gropedhis way to it, half suffocated by the heat and smoke, and in momentarydread of the falling in of the roof, reached it at last, and feeling aboutamong the scanty coverings, laid hold of the child, which was eitherinsensible or sound asleep. 

Taking it in his young, strong arms, holding it underneath the blanket, which he drew closer about his person, he rushed back again, stepping fromthe door just as the roof fell in with a crash. 

The woman snatched her babe, and its gallant rescuer fell fainting to theground. A falling beam had grazed his head and struck him a heavy blowupon the shoulder. 

With a cry Jim sprang forward, dragged his young master out of reach ofthe flying sparks, the overpowering heat, and suffocating smoke, anddropping, blubbering, down by his side, tried to loosen his cravat. 

"Fetch some wattah!" he called, "quick dar, you ongrateful white trash!you gwine let young Marse Eddie die, when he done gone saved yo' baby fromburnin' up?"

"Take the gourd and run to the spring Celestia Ann; quick, quick as youkin go, " said the mother hugging up her rescued child, and wiping a tearfrom her eye with the corner of a very dirty apron. 

"There ain't none, " answered the child, "we uns ain't got nothin' left;it's all burnt up. "

But a keen, fresh air was already reviving our hero. 

"Take me home, Jim, " he said faintly. "Stop that wagon, " as one was heardrumbling down the road, still at some distance. 

"Hollo dar! jes stop an' take a passenger aboard!" shouted Jim, springingto his feet and rushing into the road, waving his cap above his head. 

"Hollo!" shouted back the other, "dat you Jim Yates? Burnin' down Smith'shouse. Dat's a plenepotentiary crime, dat is, sah!"

"Oh go 'long, you fool, Pete White!" retorted Jim, as the other drew reinclose at his side, "you bet you don't catch dis niggah a burnin' nohouses. Spect ole Smith set de fire goin' hisself wid dat ole pipe o'his'n!"

"An' it's clar burnt down to de ground, " observed Pete, gazing with eagerinterest at the smouldering ruins. "What you s'pose dey's gwine to do forsheltah for dem po' chillen?"

"Dat ain't no concern ob mine, " returned Jim indifferently. "Ise consarned'bout getting young Marse Ed'ard safe home, an' don't care nuffin' for allde white trash in de country. Jes hitch yo' hoss an' help me lift him intode wagon. "

"What's de mattah?" queried Pete, leisurely dismounting and slowlyhitching his horse to a tree. 

"Oh you hurry up, you ole darky!" returned Jim impatiently. "Mr. Ed'ard'slyin' dar in de cold; 'catch his diff if you's gwine to be all night 'boutgittin' to him. "

"Ise got de rheumatiz, chile; ole folks can't turn roun' like young uns, "returned Pete quickening his movements somewhat as he clambered over thefence and followed Jim to the spot where Eddie lay. 

"Hurt, sah?" he asked. 

"A little; I fear I can hardly sit my horse--for this faintness, " Eddieanswered, low and feebly. "Can you put me into your wagon and drive me toIon?"

"Yes, sah; wid de greatest pleasah in life, sah. Mr. Travilla and de Ionladies ben berry kind to me an' my ole woman and de chillen. "

Mrs. Smith and her dirty ragged little troop had gathered round, stillcrying over their fright and their losses, curious too about the younggentleman who had saved the baby and was lying there on the ground sohelpless. 

"Are ye much hurt, Mr. Edward?" asked the woman. "Oh yer mother'll neverforgive me fur lettin' ye risk yer life that away!"

"I don't think the injury is serious, Mrs. Smith, at least I hope not; andyou were not to blame, " he answered, "so make yourself easy. Now, Pete andJim, give me an arm, each of you. "

They helped him into the wagon and laid him down, putting the scorchedhorse blanket under his head for a pillow. 

"Now drive a little carefully, Pete, " he said, suppressing a groan, "andlook out for the ruts, I'd rather not be jolted. 

"And you, Sim, ride on ahead and lead Prince. I want you to get in beforeus, ask for my father and tell him I've had an accident; am not seriouslyhurt, but want my mother prepared. She must not be alarmed by seeing mebrought in unexpectedly, in this state. "

His orders were obeyed, Jim reached Ion some ten minutes ahead of thewagon and gave due warning of its approach. He met his master in theavenue and told his story in a tolerably straightforward manner. 

"Where is Mr. Edward now?" asked Mr. Travilla. 

"De wagon's jes down de road dar a piece, sah; be here in 'bout fiveminutes, sah. "

"Then off for the doctor, Jim, as fast as you can go. Here, give mePrince's bridle. Now don't let the grass grow under your horse's feet. Either Dr. Barton, or Dr. Arthur; it doesn't matter which; only get himhere speedily. " And vaulting into the saddle Mr. Travilla rode back to thehouse, dismounted, throwing the bridle to Solon, and went in. 

Opening the door of the drawing-room where the family were gathered:

"Wife, " he said cheerfully, "will you please step here a moment?"

She came at once and followed him down the hall, asking, "What is it, Edward?" for her heart misgave her that something was wrong. 

"Not much, I hope, dearest, " he said, turning and taking her in his arms. "Our boy, Eddie, has done a brave deed and suffered some injury by it, but nothing serious, I trust. He will be here in a moment. "

He felt her cling to him with a convulsive grasp, he heard her quickcoming breath, the whispered words, "Oh, my son! Dear Lord, help!" then, as the rumble of the wagon wheels was heard nearing the door, she put herhand in his, calm and quiet, and went forth with him to meet their woundedchild. 

His father helped him to alight, and supported him up the veranda steps. 

"Don't be alarmed, mother, I'm not badly hurt, " he said, but staggered ashe spoke, and would have fallen but for his father's sustaining arm, andby the light from the open door, she saw his eyes close and a deadlypallor overspread his face. 

"He's fainting!" she exclaimed, springing to his other side. "Oh, my boy, this is no trifle!"

Servants were already crowding about them, and Eddie was quickly borne tohis room, laid upon the bed, and restoratives administered. 

"Fire!" his mother said with a start and shudder, pointing to his singedlocks, "oh, where has the child been?"

Her husband told her in a few words. 

"And he has saved a life!" she cried with tears of mingled joy and grief, proud of her brave son, though her tender mother heart ached for hissuffering. "Thank God for that, if--if he has not sacrificed his own. "

The door opened and Arthur Conly came in. 

Consciousness was returning to the lad, and looking up at his cousin as hebent over him, "Tell mother, " he murmured, "that I'm not much hurt. "

"I have to find that out, first, " said Arthur. "Do you feel any burns, bruises? whereabouts are you injured, do you think?"

"Something--a falling beam, I suppose, grazed my head and struck me on theshoulder; I think, too, that my hands and face are scorched. "

"Yes, your face is; and your hands--scorched? why they are badly burned!And your collar bone's broken. That's all, I believe; enough to satisfyyou, I hope?"

"Quite, " Eddie returned with a faint smile. "Don't cry, mother dear, yousee it's nothing but what can be made right in a few days or weeks. "

"Yes, " she said, kissing him and smiling through her tears; "and oh, letus thank God that it is no worse!"

Eddie's adventure created quite a stir in the family and among outsiderelatives and friends, he was dubbed the hero of the hour, and attentionswere lavished upon him without stint. 

He bore his honors meekly. "Mother, " he said privately to her, "I don'tdeserve all these encomiums and they make me ashamed; for I am not reallybrave. In fact I'm afraid I'm an arrant coward; for do you know I wasafraid to rush in among those flames; but I could not bear the thought ofleaving that poor baby to burn up, and you had taught me that it was rightand noble to risk my own life to save another's. "

"That was not cowardice, my dear boy, " she said, her eyes shining, "butthe truest courage. I think you deserve far more credit for bravery, thanyou would if you had rushed in impulsively without a thought of the realdanger you were encountering. "

"Praise is very sweet from the lips of those I love; especially mymother's, " he responded, with a glad smile. "And what a nurse you are, mother mine! it pays to be ill when one can be so tended. "

"That is when one is not very seriously ill, I suppose?" she saidplayfully, stroking his hair. "By the way, it will take longer to restorethese damaged locks, than to repair any of the other injuries caused byyour escapade. "

"Never mind, " he said, "they'll grow again in time. What has become of theSmiths?"

"Your father has found temporary shelter for them at the quarter, and isrebuilding their hut. "

"I knew he would; it is just like him--always so kind, so generous. "

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINTH. 

 "Oh, gentle Romeo, If thou dost love, pronounce it faithfully. Or if thou think'st I'm too quickly won, I'll frown and be perverse, and say thee nay, So thou wilt woo; but else not for the world. " --SHAKESPEARE. 

One lovely morning in the ensuing spring, the younger Elsie wandered outalone into the grounds, and sauntering aimlessly along with a book in herhand, at length found herself standing on the shore of the lakelet. 

It was a lovely spot, for the limpid waters reflected grassy bankssprinkled here and there with the wild violet, and shaded by beautifultrees. 

A gentle breeze just ruffled the glassy surface of the pond, and rusticseats invited to rest. It seemed just the place and time for a reverie, and Elsie, with scarce a glance about her, sat down to that enjoyment. Itwas only of late that she had formed the habit, but it was growing uponher. 

She sat for some time buried in thought, her cheek upon her hand, her eyesupon the ground, and smiles and blushes chasing each other over the fairsweet face. 

The dip of an oar, followed instantly by a discordant laugh and a shrillvoice asking, "What are you sittin' there for so still and quiet? Wouldn'tyou like to get in here with me!" caused her to start and spring to herfeet with a cry of dismay. 

About an hour before a little, oddly dressed woman, with grey hair hangingover her shoulders, a large doll in one arm and a sun umbrella in theother hand, might have been seen stealing along the road that led fromRoselands to Ion, keeping close to the hedge that separated it from thefields, and now and then glancing over her shoulder as if fearing orexpecting pursuit. 

She kept up a constant gabble, now talking to herself, now to the doll, hugging and kissing it with a great show of affection. 

"Got away safe this time, didn't we, Grizzy? And we're not going back in ahurry, are we, dear? We've had enough of being penned up in that old housethis ever so long; and now we'll have a day in the woods, a picnic all toourselves. Hark! what was that? did I hear wheels?" pausing a moment tolisten. "No, they haven't found us out yet, Grizzy, so we'll walk on. "

Reaching the gate leading into the avenue at Ion, she stood a momentpeering in between the bars. 

"Seems to me I've been here before; must have been a good while ago. GuessI won't go up to the house; they might catch me and send me back. But letus go in, Griselda, and look about. Yonder's a garden full of flowers. We'll pick what we want and nobody'll know it. "

Putting down her umbrella and pushing the gate open just far enough toenable her to slip through, she stole cautiously in, crossed the avenueand the lawn, and entered the garden unobserved. 

She wandered here and there about it, plucking remorselessly whateverseized her fancy, till she had an immense bouquet of the choicestblossoms. 

At length leaving the garden she made a circuit through the shrubbery, andfinally came out upon the shore of the little lake. 

"Oh, this is nice!" she said. "Did I ever see this before? It's cool andshady here; we'll sit down and rest ourselves under one of these trees, Grizzy. " Then catching sight of a pretty row-boat, moored to the shore, "No, we'll jump into this boat and take a ride!" and springing nimbly in, she laid the doll down on one of the seats, the bouquet beside it, saying, "I'm tired carrying you, Griselda, so you just lie there and rest, " thenquickly loosing the little craft from its moorings, and taking up theoars, pushed off into the deep water. 

She laid down the oars presently, and amused herself with the flowers, picking them to pieces and scattering the petals in the water, leaningover the side of the boat, talking to the fishes, and bidding them eatwhat she gave them, "for it was good, much better and daintier than breadcrumbs. "

The breeze came from the direction to take her farther from the shore, andsoon wafted her out to the middle of the lake, but she went on with hernew diversion, taking no note of her whereabouts. 

It was just about this time that Elsie reached the spot and sat down toher day dreams. 

Enna, for she it was who occupied the boat, did not see her niece atfirst, but after a little, growing weary of her sport with the flowers, she threw them from her, took up an oar again, and glancing toward theland, as she dipped it in the water, her eye fell upon the gracefulwhite-robed figure seated there underneath the trees, and she instantlycalled out to her as we have related. 

Elsie was much alarmed; concerned for the safety of the poor lunatic. There was no knowing what mad freak might seize her at any moment; no onewas within call, and that being the only boat there, there was no way ofreaching her until she should return to the shore of her own accord; ifindeed, she was capable of managing the boat so as to reach the land ifshe desired to do so. 

Elsie did not lose her presence of mind, and she thought very rapidly. Thebreeze was wafting the boat farther from her, but nearer to the oppositeshore; if let alone it would arrive there in the course of time, and Ennashe perceived did not know how to propel it with the oars. 

"Will you come?" she was asking again, "will you take a ride in thispretty boat with me?"

"I'll run round to the other side, " Elsie called in reply. "I wouldn'tbother with those great heavy oars, if I were you; just let them lie inthe bottom of the boat, while you sit still and rest, and the wind willcarry it to the land. "

"All right!" Enna answered, laying them down. "Now you hurry up. "

"I will, " Elsie said, starting upon a run for the spot where she thoughtthat the boat would be most likely to reach the shore. 

She reached it first, and the boat being still several yards away floatingupon very deep water, she watched it a moment anxiously. 

Enna was sitting still in the bottom, hugging the doll to her bosom andsinging a lullaby to it; but suddenly as Elsie stood waiting and watchingin trembling suspense, she sprang up, tossed the doll from her, leapedover the side of the boat, and disappeared beneath the water. 

Elsie tore off her sash, tied a pebble to one end, and as Enna rose to thesurface, spluttering and struggling, threw it to her crying, "Catch holdand I will try to pull you out. "

"Oh, don't! you will but sacrifice your own life!" cried a manly voice, intones of almost agonized entreaty, and Lester Leland came dashing down thebank. 

It was too late; Enna seized the ribbon with a jerk that threw Elsie alsointo the water, and they were struggling there together, both in imminentdanger of drowning. 

It was but an instant before Lester was there also; death with Elsie wouldbe far preferable to life without her, and he would save or perish withher. 

It was near being the last; would have been had not Bruno come to his aid, but with the good help of the faithful dog, he at length succeeded inrescuing both ladies, dragging them up the bank and laying them on thegrass, both in a state of insensibility. 

"Go to the house, Bruno, go and bring help, " he said pantingly, for he waswell-nigh overcome by his exertions, and the dog bounded away in thedirection of the house. 

"Lord, grant it may come speedily, " ejaculated the young man, kneelingbeside the apparently lifeless form of her he loved so well. "Oh, mydarling, have those sweet eyes closed forever?" he cried in anguish, wiping the water from her face, and chafing her cold hands in his. "Elsiemy love, my life, my all! oh! I would have died to save you!"

Enna had been missed almost immediately, and Calhoun, Arthur and severalservants at once set out in different directions in search of her. 

Arthur and Pomp got upon the right scent, followed her to Ion, and joinedby Mr. Travilla, soon traced her through the garden and shrubbery down tothe lake, coming upon the scene of the catastrophe, or rather of therescue, but a moment after Bruno left. 

"Why, what is this?" exclaimed Mr. Travilla in alarm, "is it Elsie? canshe have been in the water? Oh, my child, my darling!"

Instantly he was down upon the grass by her side, assisting Lester'sefforts to restore her to consciousness. 

For a moment she engrossed the attention of all, to the utter exclusionfrom their thoughts of poor Enna, for whom none of them entertained anygreat amount of affection. 

"She lives! her heart beats! she will soon recover!" Arthur saidpresently, "see, a faint color is coming into her cheek. Run, Pomp, bringblankets and more help; they must be carried at once to the house. "

He turned to his aunt, leaving Mr. Travilla and Lester to attend to Elsie. 

Enna seemed gone; he could not be sure that life was not extinct. Perhapsit were better so, but he would not give up till every possible effort hadbeen made to restore her. 

Both ladies were speedily conveyed to the house, Elsie, already conscious, committed to the care of her mother and Aunt Chloe, while Arthur, Dr. Barton and others, used every exertion for Enna's resuscitation. They wereat length successful in fanning to a flame the feeble spark of life thatyet remained, but fever supervened, and for weeks afterward she was veryill. 

Elsie kept her bed for a day, then took her place in the family again, looking quite herself except a slight paleness. No; a close observer mighthave detected another change; a sweet glad light in the beautiful browneyes that was not there before; full of peaceful content and quiethappiness as her young life had been. 

Lester's words of passionate love had reached the ear that seemed closedto all earthly sounds; they were heard as in a dream, but afterwardrecalled with a full apprehension of their reality and of all they meantto her and to him. 

Months ago she had read the same sweet story in his eyes, but how sweeterfar it was to have heard it from his lips. 

She had sometimes wondered that he held his peace so long, and again haddoubted the language of his looks, but now those doubts were set at rest, and their next interview was anticipated with a strange flutter of theheart, a longing for, yet half shrinking from the words he might have tospeak. 

But the day passed and he did not come; another and another, and no wordfrom him. How strange! he was still her preceptor in her art studies; didhe not know that she was well enough to resume them? If not, was it nothis place to inquire?

Perhaps he was ill. Oh, had he risked his health, perhaps his life insaving hers? She did not ask; her lips refused to speak his name, andwould nobody tell her?

At last she overheard her father saying to Eddie, "What has become ofLester Leland? It strikes me as a little ungallant that he has not been into inquire after the health of your aunt and sister. "

"He has gone away, " Eddie answered, "he left the morning after theaccident. "

"Gone away, " echoed Elsie's sinking heart. "Gone away, and so suddenly!what could it mean?" She stole away to her own room to indulge, for abrief space, in the luxury of tears, then, with a woman's instinctivepride, carefully removed their traces, and rejoined the family with a faceall wreathed in smiles. 

CHAPTER THIRTIETH. 

 "Love is not to be reasoned down or lost, In high ambition, or a thirst for greatness; 'Tis second life, it grows into the soul, Warms ev'ry vein, and beats in ev'ry pulse; I feel it here; my resolution melts. " --ADDISON. 

Enna lay at the point of death for weeks. Mrs. Travilla was her devotednurse, scarcely leaving her day or night, and only snatching a few hoursof rest occasionally, on a couch in an adjoining room whence she could besummoned at a moment's notice. 

Mr. Travilla at length remonstrated, "My darling, this is too much, youare risking your own life and health, which are far more valuable thanhers. "

"O Edward, " she answered, the tears shining in her eyes, "I must save herif I can. I am praying, praying that reason may come back and her life bespared till she has learned to know him, whom to know aright is lifeeternal. "

"My precious, unselfish little wife!" he said, embracing her with emotion, "I believe your petition will be granted; that the Master will give youthis soul for your hire, saying to you as to one of old, 'According toyour faith be it unto you. '

"But, dearest, " he added, "you must allow others to share your labor, others upon whom she certainly has a nearer claim. Where is Mrs. Conly?"

"Aunt Louise says she has no talent for nursing, " Elsie answered with ahalf smile, "and that Prilla, mammy and Dinah are quite capable and I amvery foolish to take the work off their hands. "

"And I am partly of her opinion, " he responded playfully; then moreseriously, "will you not, for my sake and for your children's, spareyourself a little. "

"And for your father's, " added Mr. Dinsmore, whose quiet step as heentered the room, they had not heard. 

Elsie turned to him with both hands extended, a smile on her lips, a tearin her eye, "My dear father, how are you?"

"Quite well, daughter, " he said, taking the hands and kissing the rich redlips, as beautiful and as sweet now, as in her childhood or youth, "buttroubled and anxious about you. Are you determined to be quite obstinatein this thing?"

"No, " she said, "I hope not; but what is it that you and my husband wouldhave me do?"

"Take your regular rest at night, " answered the one, the other adding, "And go out for a little air and exercise every day. "

Arthur, coming in at that moment, from his morning visit to his patient, who lay in the next room, joined his entreaties to theirs, and upon hisassurance that Enna was improving, Elsie consented to do as they desired. 

Still the greater part of her time was spent at Enna's bedside, and herfamily saw but little of her. 

This was a trial to them all; but especially to the eldest, who waslonging for "mamma's" dear society; she fully appreciated Molly's andEddie's companionship, dearly loved that of her father, and esteemed Vi'sas very sweet, but no one could fill her mother's place. 

Probably not even to her would she have unburdened her heart, she couldscarce bear to look into it herself, but the dear mother's very presence, though she might only sit in silence by her side, would be as balm to hertroubled spirit. 

She forced herself to be cheerful when with the others, and to take aninterest in what interested them, but when left alone would drop her bookor work and fall into a reverie, or wander out into the grounds, choosingthe most quiet and secluded parts; often the shady banks of the lakelet, where she and Lester had passed many an hour together in days gone by. 

She had gone there one morning, leaving the others at home busied withtheir lessons. Seated on a rustic bench, her hands folded in her lap, hereyes on the ground and a book lying unheeded in the grass at her feet, shewas startled by a sound as of some heavy body falling from a height andcrashing through the branches of a thick clump of trees on the other sideof the lake. 

She sprang up and stood looking and listening with a palpitating heart. She could see that a large branch had broken from a tall tree, and layupon the ground and--yes, something else lay beside or on it, halfconcealed from her view by the green leaves and twigs; and--did she hear agroan?

Perhaps it was only fancy, but it might be that some one was lying therein pain and needing assistance. 

Instantly she flew toward the spot, her heart beating wildly; she drewnear, started back and caught at a young sapling for support; yes, therelay a motionless form among the fallen branches, that of a man, agentleman, as she discerned by what she could see of his clothing; herheart told her the rest. 

Another moment and she was kneeling at his side, gazing with unutterableanguish into the still white face. 

"He is dead, the fall has killed him. " She had no hope of anything else atthe moment; there seemed no possibility of life in that rigid form anddeath-like face; and she made no effort to give assistance or to call forit. She was like one turned to stone by the sudden crushing blow. Sheloved and she had lost--that was all she knew. 

But at length this stony grief gave place to a sharper anguish, a low cryburst from her lips, and hot scalding tears fell upon his face. 

They brought him back to consciousness, and he heard her bitter sighs andmoans; he knew she thought him dead and mourned as for one who was verydear. 

He was in terrible pain, for he had fallen with his leg bent under him andit was badly broken; but a thrill of joy shot through his whole frame. Fora moment more he was able to control himself and remain perfectly still, then his eyelids quivered, and a groan burst from him. 

At the sound Elsie started to her feet, then bending over him, "You'rehurt, Lester, " she said, unconsciously addressing him for the first timeby his Christian name; "what can I do for you?"

"Have me carried to Fairview, " he said faintly; "my leg is broken and Icannot rise or help myself. "

"Oh, what can I do, " she cried, "how can I leave you alone in such pain?Ah!" as steps were heard approaching, "here is grandpa coming up in searchof me. "

She ran to meet him and told him what had happened. 

He seemed much concerned. "Solon is here with the carriage, " he said. "Iwas going to ask your company for a drive, but we will have him takeLeland to Fairview first. Strange what could have taken him into thattree!"

That broken limb kept Lester Leland on his back for six long weeks. 

His aunt nursed him with the utmost kindness, but could not refrain fromteasing him about his accident, asking what took him into the tree, andhow he came to fall, till at last, in sheer desperation, he told her thewhole story of his love, his hopelessness on account of his poverty, hisdetermination not to go back to Ion to be thanked by Elsie and her parentsfor saving her life, his inability to go or stay far away from her; andfinally owned that he had climbed the tree simply that he might be able towatch her, himself unseen. 

"Well, I must say you are a sensible young man!" laughed Mrs. Leland; "butit was very unromantic to be so heavy as to break the limb and fall. "

"True enough!" he said, half-laughing, half-sighing, while a deep flushsuffused his face. 

"Well, what are you going to do next?"

"Go off to--Italy, I suppose. "

"What for?"

"To try to make fame and money to lay at her feet. "

"That is all very well, but I think----"

"Well?"

"It just struck me that I was about to give unasked advice, which isseldom relished by the recipient. "

"Please go on. I should like to have it whether I make use of it or not. "

"Well, I think the honest, straightforward, and therefore best course, would be to seek an interview with the parents of the young lady, tellthem frankly your feelings toward her, your hopes and purposes, and leaveit with them to say whether you shall go without speaking to her. "

"They will take me for a fortune-hunter, I fear, " he said, the colormounting to his very hair. 

"I think not; but at all events, I should risk it. I do not pretend toknow Elsie's feelings, but if she cares for you at all, it would betreating her very badly indeed, to go away without letting her know yours;unless her parents forbid it. 

"There, I've said my say, and will not mention the subject again till youdo, but leave you to consider my advice at your leisure. "

Lester did so during the next week, which was the last of the six ofenforced quietude, and the more he pondered it, the more convinced was heof the soundness of his aunt's advice, and at length he fully resolved tofollow it. 

Mr. Travilla had called frequently at Fairview, since his accident, alwaysinquiring for him, sometimes coming up to his room, at others merelyleaving kind messages from himself, wife and family, or some dainty totempt the appetite of the invalid. Eddie had been there, too, on similarerrands; but there was never a word from her whose lovely image was everpresent to his imagination. 

 * * * * *

Enna was recovering; was now able to sit up and to walk about the room. There was partial restoration of reason also. Elsie's prayer had beengranted, and though still feeble in intellect, Enna had sense enough tocomprehend the plan of salvation, and seemed to have entered into thekingdom as a little child. She was gentle, patient and submissive; verydifferent, indeed, from the Enna of old. Elsie rejoiced over her with joyakin to that of the angels "over one sinner that repenteth. "

 * * * * *

Elsie's children were full of content and happiness in having mamma againat leisure to bestow upon them her wonted care and attention; her husbandalso, in that he was no longer deprived of the large share of her sweetsociety, which for weeks past had been bestowed upon Enna. 

"Let us have a quiet walk together, little wife, " he said to her onelovely summer evening, as she joined him in the veranda on coming downfrom seeing her little ones safe in their nest; "suppose we call on theLelands. Lester, I hear, is talking of going North soon, and I believecontemplates a trip to Europe. "

"And I have never seen him yet to thank him for saving our darling's life;and Enna's too. Yes; let us go. "

Lester and his aunt were alone in the drawing-room at Fairview, when theirvisitors were announced. 

There seemed a slight air of embarrassment about the young man at themoment of their entrance; but it was quickly dispelled by the kindlywarmth of their greeting. 

The four chatted together for some time on indifferent topics; then Mrs. Lester found some excuse for leaving the room, and Mrs. Travilla seizedthe opportunity to pour out her thanks to Elsie's rescuer from a waterygrave. 

This made a favorable opening for Lester, and modestly disclaiming anyright to credit for what he had done, he frankly told the parents all thatwas in his heart toward their daughter, why he had refrained from speakingbefore, and his purpose not to seek to win her until he could bring fameand fortune to lay at her feet. 

He began in almost painful confusion, but something in the faces of hislisteners reassured him; for they expressed neither surprise nordispleasure, though tears were trembling in the soft brown eyes of themother. 

Lester had concluded, and for a moment there was silence, then Mr. Travilla said--a slight huskiness in his voice, "Young man, I like yourstraightforward dealing; but do you know the worth of the prize youcovet?"

"I know, sir, that her price is above rubies, and that I am not worthy ofher. "

"Well, Mr. Leland, we will let her be the judge of that, " the fatheranswered. "Shall we not, little wife?" turning to Elsie with a look thathad in it all the admiring homage of the lover, as well as the tenderdevotion of the husband. 

"Yes, " she sighed, seeming already to feel the pang of parting with herchild. 

"Do you mean that I may speak now?" Lester asked, half-incredulous of hishappiness. 

"Yes, " Mr. Travilla said; "though not willing to spare our child yet, wewould not have you part in doubt of each other's feelings. And, " he addedwith a kindly smile, "if you have won her heart, the want of wealth is notmuch against you. 'Worth makes the man. '"

They walked home together--Elsie and her husband--sauntering along arm inarm, by the silvery moonlight, like a pair of lovers. 

There was something very lover-like in the gaze he bent upon the sweet, fair face at his side, almost sad in its quietness. 

"What is it, little wife?" he asked. 

"Ah, Edward, how can we spare her--our darling, our first-born?"

"Perhaps we shall not be called upon to do so; he may not have won herheart. "

She shook her head with a faint smile. 

"She has tried to hide it--dear innocent child! but I know the symptoms; Ihave not forgotten. " And she looked up into his face, blushing and happyas in the days when he had wooed and won his bride. 

"Yes, dearest; what a little while ago it seems! Ah, those were gladsomedays to us; were they not?"

"Gladsome? Ah, yes! their memory is sweet to this hour. Yet I do not sighfor their return; I would not bring them back; a deeper, calmerblessedness is mine. My dear husband, "'I bless thee for the noble heart, The tender and the true, Where mine hath found the happiest rest That e'er fond woman's knew; I bless thee, faithful friend and guide, For my own, my treasur'd share, In the mournful secrets of thy soul, In thy sorrow and thy care. '"

"Thank you, my darling, " he said, lifting her hand to his lips, his eyesshining. "Yes;

 "We have lived and loved together, Through many changing years, We have shared each other's sorrows, And we've wept each other's tears. 

 "Let us hope the future As the past has been, may be, I'll share with thee thy sorrows, And thou my joys with me. "

THE END

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