THE LIBRARY OF THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LOS ANGELES ELSIE'S WOMANHOOD A SEQUEL TO "ELSIE'S GIRLHOOD 1 BY MARTHA FINLEY A perfect woman, nobly plann'd To warn, to comfort and command ; And yet a spirit still, and bright, With something of an angel light." WORDSWORTH NEW YORK DODD, MEAD AND COMPANY PUBLISHERS Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1875, by DODD & MEAD In the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington. COPYRIGHT, 1903, BY MARTHA FINLEY COPYRIGHT, 1917, BY CHARLES B. FINLEY r b Preface. THE call for a sequel to "Elsie's Girlhood" having become too loud and importunate to be resisted, the pleasant task of writing it was undertaken. Dates compelled the bringing in of the late war : and it has been the earnest desire and effort of the author to so treat the subject as to wound the feelings of none ; to be as impartial as if writing history ; and, by drawing a true, though alas, but faint picture, of the great losses and sufferings on both sides, to make the very thought of a renewal of the awful strife utterly abhorrent to every lover of humanity, and especially of this, our own dear native land. Are we not one people : speaking the same language ; worshipping the one true and living God ; having a com- mon history, a common ancestry; and united by the tenderest ties of blood? And is not this great grand, glorious old Union known and respected all over the world our common country, our joy and pride ? O ! let us forget all bitterness, and live henceforth in love, harmony, and mutual helpfulness. For all I know of the Teche country I am indebted to Mr. Edward King's "Old and New Louisiana"; for facts and dates in regard to the war, and in large measure iii 5ES1S2 hr PREFACE. for Mr. Dinsmore's views as to its causes, etc., principally to Headley's " History of the Great Rebellion." The description of Andersonville, and the life led by the prisoners there, was supplied by one who shared it for six months. An effort was made to obtain a sketch of a Northern prison also, but without success. Yet what need to balance accounts in respect to these matters ? The unnatural strife is over, and we are again one united people. M. F. CHAPTER FIRST. ' Oh ! there is one affection which no stain Of earth can ever darken ; when two find, The softer and the manlier, that a chain Of kindred taste has fastened mind to mind." PERCIVAL'S POEMS. IN one of the cool green alleys at the Oaks, Rose and Adelaide Dinsmore were pacing slowly to and fro, each with an arm about the other's waist, in girlish fashion, while they conversed together in low, confidential tones. At a little distance to one side, the young son and heir had thrown himself prone upon the grass in the shade of a magnificent oak, story-book in hand. Much interested he seemed in his book, yet occasionally his eye would wander from its fascinating pages to watch, with pride and delight, the tiny Rosebud steady herself against a tree, then run with eager, tottering steps and a crow of delight into her nurse's outstretched arms, to be hugged, kissed, praised, and coaxed to try it over again. As Rose and Adelaide turned at one end of the alley, Mr. Horace Dinsmore entered it at the other. Hurriedly approaching the little toddler, he stooped and held out his hands, saying, in tender, half-tremulous tones, " Come, darling, come to papa." She ran into his arms, crying, "Papa," in her sweet baby voice, and catching her up, he covered her face I 2 ELSIE'S WOMANHOOD. with kisses; then, holding her clasped fondly to his breast, walked on towards his wife and sister. "What is it, Horace?" asked Rose anxiously, as they neared each other ; for she saw that his face was pale and troubled. "I bring you strange tidings, my Rose," he answered low and sadly, as she laid her hand upon his arm with an affectionate look up into his face. Hers grew pale. "Bad news from home?" she al- most gasped. " No, no; I've had no word from our absent relatives or friends, and I'm not sure I ought to call it bad news either ; though I cannot yet think of it with equanimity, it has come upon me so suddenly." "What?" asked both ladies in a breath; "don't keep us in suspense." "It has been going on for years on his part I can see it now but, blind fool that I was, I never suspected it till to-day, when it came upon me like a thunderbolt." "What? who?" "Tra villa; after years of patient waiting he has won her at last our darling and and I've given her to him." Both ladies stood dumb with astonishment, while young Horace, who had come running up in time to catch the last words, cried out with vehemence, " Papa ! what ! give our Elsie away ? how could you ? how can we ever do without her ? But she shan't go, for she be- longs to me too, and I'll never give consent ! " Mr. Dinsmore and the ladies smiled faintly. " They seemed to think mine quite sufficient, Horace," ELSIE'S WOMANHOOD. 3 replied his father, " and I'm afraid will hardly consider it necessary to ask yours." "But, papa, we can't spare her you know we can't -~and why should you go and give her away to Mr. Travilla or anybody ? " "My son, had I refused, it would have caused her great unhappiness. " "Then she ought to be ashamed to go and love Mr. Travilla better than you and all of us." "I was never more astonished in my life!" cried Adelaide. " Nor I," said Rose. " And he's a great deal too old for her." "That is an objection," replied her husband, "but if not insuperable to her, need not be to us." " Think of your intimate friend addressing you as father ! " laughed Adelaide ; "it's really too ridiculous." " That need not be is not an inevitable consequence of the match," smiled Mr. Dinsmore, softly caressing the little one clinging about his neck. Still conversing on the same subject, the minds of all being full of it to the exclusion of every other, they moved on as if by common consent towards the house. " Do you think it can be possible that she is really and truly in love with him?" queried Rose; "a man so much older than herself, and so intimate in the family since her early childhood." " Judge for yourself, my dear," said Mr. Dinsmore, as a turn in the path brought them within a few yards of the lovers, who were moving slowly in their direction so that the two parties must meet in another moment. 4 ELSIE'S WOMANHOOD. One glance at the beaming faces, the rich color coming and going in Elsie's cheek, the soft, glad light in her sweet brown eyes, was a sufficient reply to Rose's ques- tion. She looked at her husband with a satisfied smile, which he returned. But little Horace, leaving his father's side, rushed up to Elsie, and catching her hand in his, cried, "I'll never give my consent ! and you belong to me. Mr. Travilla, you can't have her." To the child's surprise Elsie only blushed and smiled, while Mr. Travilla, without the slightest appearance of alarm or vexation, said, " Ah, my dear boy, you may just as well ; for she is willing to be mine and your papa has given her tome." But the others had come up, and inquiring looks, smiles and kindly greetings were exchanged. " Mr. Travilla," said Rose, half playfully but with a tear trembling in her eye, " you have stolen a march upon us, and I can hardly forgive you just yet." "I regret that exceedingly, my dear madam," he answered, with a smile that belied his words. "But Miss Adelaide, you will still stand my friend ? " "I don't know," she answered demurely; "there's only one serious objection in my mind (if Elsie is satis- fied) ; that I don't quite fancy having a nephew some years older than myself." " Ah ! well, I shall be quite willing to be considered a brother-in-law." "Company to dinner ! " shouted Horace. "I see a carriage ; don't you, papa ? " "It is your Uncle Edward's," said Mr. Travilla. ELSIE'S WOMANHOOD. 5 " Yes," said Adelaide, "Lora and her tribe are in it, no doubt; and probably Mrs. Bowles too (Carrie Howard you know, Elsie). They have been late in calling." " Some good reason for it, and they are none the less welcome," remarked Rose, quickening her pace. The one party reached the house just as the other two had fairly alighted, and a scene of joyous greeting ensued. " You dear child ! how good of you to corne back to us again, and single too," exclaimed Mrs. Bowles, clasp- ing Elsie in a warm embrace ; "I'd almost given it up, and expected by every mail to hear you had become Lady or Countess this, or Duchess that." Elsie smiled and blushed, and meeting the eye of her betrothed fixed for an instant upon her with an ex- pression of unutterable content, thankfulness, love and pride, smiled and blushed again. Carrie caught the look and its effect upon her friend, and almost breathless with astonishment, took the first opportunity, after all were seated in the drawing-room, to prefer a whispered request to be taken to Elsie's own private apartment for a moment, to see that her hair and dress were in proper order. They had come to spend the day, and bonnets and shawls had already been carried away by the servants in attendance. "Now girls, don't run off for an interminable chat by yourselves," said Mrs. Howard, as the two rose and crossed the room together. "No, Aunt Lora, we'll not stay long," said Elsie; 6 ELSIE'S WOMANHOOD. f "*or I want to improve every moment of your visit, in renewing my acquaintance with you and my young cousins." u " Your family has grown, Lora," remarked her brother. " Yes, rather faster than yours," she said, looking round with pride upon her little group of four boys, and a girl yet in her nurse's arms. " Go and speak to your uncle, Ned, Walter, Horace, and Arthur. You see I have given you a namesake ; and this little pet we call Rose Louise, for her two aunties. Yours is Rose, too ! and what a darling ! and how little Horace has grown ! " "Elsie, it can't be possible!" cried Carrie, the instant they found themselves alone. "What can't?" and Elsie's blush and smile were charming. "That you and Mr. Tra villa are lovers ! I saw it in your faces; but, 'tis too absurd ! Why, he's your father's friend, and nearly as old." " All the wiser and better for that, Carrie, dear. But he is young in heart, and far from looking old, I t think. I have grown so sick of your silly, brainless fops, who expect women neither to talk sense nor under- stand it." "Ah, I dare say ! and Mr. Travilla is the most sensi- ble and polished of men always excepting my own spouse, of course. And you won't be taken away from us ; so I give my consent." Elsie's only answer was a mirthful, amused look. " Oh, but I am glad to see you back ! " Carrie ran on. "It seems an age since you went away." ELSIE'S WOMANHOOD. 7 "Thank you. And your husband? what is he like?" "I was never good at description, but he is a fine specimen of a Kentucky planter, and very fond of his wife. By the way, you must blame me that Edward and Lora were so late in welcoming you home. I arrived only yesterday morning, quite fatigued with my journey, and begged them to wait till to-day, and bring me with them." " That was right. We have not seen Enna yet, or Arthur. Grandpa and Mrs. Dinsmore and Walter called yesterday. But there is the dinner-bell. Let me con- duct you to the dining-room." They were just in time to sit down with the others. Elsie quickly perceived by her Aunt Lora's look and manner, that she, too, had heard the news, but no re- mark was make on the subject till the ladies had retired to the drawing-room, leaving the gentlemen to the en- joyment of their after-dinner cigars. Then Mrs. Howard, facing round upon her niece as they entered the room, exclaimed, "Elsie, you naughty child ! are you not ashamed of yourself? " "On account of what, auntie?" "Such unconscious innocence ! " cried Lora, throwing up the white and jeweled hands she had rested lightly for an instant upon the young girl's shoulder, while ga- zing steadily into the smiling, blushing, sparkling face. " You haven't been planning and promising to give Adelaide and me a nephew older than ourselves ? I tell you, miss, I refuse my consent. Why, it's absurb ! the very idea ! I used to think him almost an elderly gen- tleman when you were a chit of eight or nine." 8 ELSIE'S WOMANHOOD. " I remember having had some such idea myself; but he must have been growing young since then," re- turned Elsie, demurely. " He seems to have been standing still (waiting for you, I suppose) ; but I never was more astonished in my life ! " said Lora, dropping into a chair. " It has been a genuine surprise to us all," remarked Rose. "To me as much as anyone, mamma," said Elsie. "I had thought he was engaged to you, Aunt Adie." " To me, child ! " " Why, my dear, I surely told you about her engage- ment to my brother Edward? " exclaimed Adelaide and Rose simultaneously. " You tried, mamma, and it was all my own fault that I did not hear the whole truth. And, Aunt Adie, I can- not understand how he could ever fancy me, while he might have hoped there was a possibility of winning you." " 'Twould have been a much more suitable match," said Lora. "Though I'd have preferred the one in contemplation, except that in the other case, she would not be carried quite away from us. But suppose we pro- ceed to business. We should have a double wedding, I think." " Oh, don't talk of it yet," said Rose, with a slight tremble in her voice, and looking at Elsie's flushed, con- scious face with eyes full of unshed tears. " Adelaide's is to be within the next two months, and we cannot give up Elsie so suddenly." " Of course not," said Adelaide; " and I should have ELSIE'S WOMANHOOD. g serious objections to being used as a foil to Elsie's youth and beauty." The Howards and Mr. Travilla stayed to tea, and shortly before that meal the party was increased by the arrival of Walter Dinsmore and Mrs. Dick Per- civai. Enna had lost flesh and color; and long indulgence of a fretful, peevish temper had drawn down the corners of her mouth, lined her forehead, and left its ugly pen- cilings here and there over the once pretty face, so that it already began to look old and care-worn. She was very gayly dressed, in the height of the fashion, and rather overloaded with jewelry ; but powder and rouge could not altogether conceal the ravages of discontent and passion. She was conscious of the fact, and in- wardly dwelt with mortification and chagrin upon the contrast presented by her own faded face to that of Elsie, so fair and blooming, so almost childish in its sweet purity and innocence of expression. "So you are single yet," Enna said, with a covert sneer; "and not likely to marry either, so far as I've been able to learn. They'll soon begin to call you an old maid." "Will they?" said Mr. Dinsmore, with a laugh in which all present joined, Enna herself excepted; "well, if she is a fair specimen of that much-abused class, they are far more attractive than is generally sup- posed." " You needn't laugh," said Enna; " I was four years younger than she is now, when I married. I wasn't going to wait till they began to call me an old maid." 10 ELSIE'S WOMANHOOD. "To bear that reproach is not the worst calamity that can befall a woman," replied Mr. Dinsmore gravely ; then changed the subject by a kind inquiry in regard to Arthur. "Slowly and steadily improving," answered Walter. " The doctors are now satisfied that he is not permanently crippled, though he still uses a crutch." CHAPTER SECOND. " Mutual love, the crown of all our bliss." MILTON'S PARADISE LosT- AFTER a half hour of waiting for her son's return, Mrs. Travilla sat down to her lonely cup of tea. There was no lack of delicacies on the table, and in all Ed- ward's taste had been consulted. To make him com- fortable and happy was, next to serving her God, the great aim and object of his mother's life; and, in a less degree, of that of every servant in the house. They had all been born and brought up at Ion, and had all these years known him as the kindest, most reasonable and considerate of masters. " Wish Massa Edard come. Dese waffles jes' prime to-night, an' he so fond ob dem," remarked a pretty mulatto girl, handing a plate of them to her mistress. " Yes, Prilla, he expected to be at home, but is proba- bly taking tea at the Oaks or Roselands." And the old lady supped her tea and ate her waffles with a serene, happy face, now and then lighted up by a pleased smile which her attendant handmaiden was at a loss to inter- pret. Having finished her meal, Mrs. Travilla threw a shawl about her shoulders and stepped out upon the veranda ; then, tempted by the beauty of the night, walked down 2d ELSIE'S WOMANHOOD. the avenue to meet her son or see if there were any signs of his approach. She had not gone half the distance ere the sound of florses' hoofs reached her ear distant at first but coming rapidly nearer, till a lady and gentleman drew rein at the gate, while the servant who had been riding in the rear dismounted and threw it open. They came dashing up, but paused and drew rein again at sight of the old lady standing there under the trees. "Mother," cried her son, springing from the saddle, * you were not alarmed ? anxious? surely." "No, no, Edward, but glad to see you and Elsie! my dear child, this is very kind." "Not at all, dear Mrs. Travilla; it is so lovely an evening for a ride; or walk either," she added, giving her hand to her escort and springing lightly to the ground. Mr. Traviila put the hand into that of his mother. " Take her to your heart, mother ; she is mine ours I " he said, in low tones tremulous with joy. The old lady folded the slight girlish form to her "breast for a moment, with a silence more eloquent than words. "Thank God! thank God!" she murmured at length. "He has given me my heart's desire;" and mingled caresses and tears fell upon Elsie's face. " For many years I have loved you as my own child, and now I am to have you. How bright our home will be, Ed- ward. But we are darkening another. Her father ; can he " ELSIE'S WOMANHOOD. 15 " He has given her to me," answered the son quickly; 4 * and she has we have given ourselves to each other. Let me give an arm to each of you and we will go into the house." The veranda at the Oaks was deserted, and the house very quiet, though lights still shone here and there, as Mr. Travilla and Elsie rode up and dismounted on their return from Ion. A servant rose from the grass, where he had been ly- ing at his ease ; came forward and led away his young mistress's pony, while the lover bade her a tender good- night, sprang into the saddle again, and presently disap- peared, lost to view amid the trees and the windings of the road, though the sound of horse's hoofs still came faintly to Elsie's ear as she stood intently listening, a sweet smile irradiating every feature. Absorbed in her own thoughts, and in the effort to catch those fast-retreating sounds, she did not hear a step approaching from behind ; but an arm encircled her waist, and a low-breathed " My darling " woke her from her reverie. She looked up, her eyes beaming with affection ; " Papa ; I am rather late, am I not ? " " Not very. Hark ! the clock is but just striking ten. Come, let us sit down here for a little. We have hardly had a chat together to-day." He sighed slightly as he drew her closer to him. " No, papa dear, there has been so much company," she answered, laying her head on his shoulder. H ELSIE'S WOMANHOOD. " And what ? " as she paused. " Your father used tw know all that concerned you one way or the other. Is he to be shut out from your confidence now ? Ah, I think he must have been for some time past." "I could not tell you that, papa," she murmured, blushing visibly in the moonlight. "Indeed, I hardly knew it myself till " "Till when?" " The night of Sophie's wedding." " Ah! " he said, musingly; "but I cannot get over my surprise ; he is your senior by so many years, and you have known him from childhood and looked upon him as a sort of uncle. I wonder at your choice." "But you don't object, papa? " " No, if I must give you away and I've always known that would come some time I would rather it should be to him than any one else, for I can never doubt that he will be tender and true to my precious one, when she leaves her father's home for his." "Papa, papa, don't speak of it," she cried, winding her arms about his neck, " I can't bear to think of it j that our home will no longer be the same, that I can't come to you every night and be folded to your heart as I have been ever since I was a little girl." " Well, dearest," he said, after a moment, in which he held her very close and caressed her with exceeding ten- derness, "we shall not be far apart or miss passing some time together many days of the year. And you are not in haste to leave me? " " Oh, no, no ! why should I be ? Please keep me a little while yet." ELSIE'S WOMANHOOD. 15 " I intend to : it will take at least a year to get used to the thought of doing without you, and so long Tra- villa must be content to wait. Nor can we give you up wholly even then ; your suite of rooms shall still be yours, and you must come now and then and occupy them for days or weeks at a time. " Now, daughter, good-night. Come to me to-morrow morning in my study, soon after breakfast, I have some- thing more of importance to say to you." " I shall obey, and without fear," she answered gayly, " though I remember once being quite frightened at a similar order ; but that was when I was a silly little giA and didn't know how dearly my own papa loved me." "And when he was strangely stern to his own little child," he answered, with another tender caress. CHAPTER THIRD. [ So fair that had you beauty's picture took, It must like her, or not like beauty look." ALLEYN'S HENRY VII. ELSIE paused at the half-open door of her father's private room. Mr. Dinsraore, like most men, was fond of light and air ; through the wide open windows the morning breeze side softly in, laden with sweets from garden and lawn, and the rich carpet of oak and green was flecked with gold where the sunbeams came shimmering down be- tween the fluttering leaves of a beautiful vine that had festooned itself about the one looking to the east. Mr. Dinsmore was seated at his desk with a pile of papers before him legal documents in appearance; he would open one, glance over its contents, lay it aside, and Sake up another only to treat it in like manner. Elsie stood but a moment watching him with loving, admiring eyes, then gliding noiselessly across the floor, dropped grace' Ally at his feet and laying her folded .hands upon hib knee looked up into his face with an arch, iweet smile. " Mon pere, I have come for my lecture, or whatever you have laid up in store for me," she announced with aaock gravity and a slight tremble of pretended fear in }ier voice. 16 ELSIE'S WOMANHOOD. 17 Dropping the paper he held, and passing one hand caressingly over her shining hair, "My darling, how very, very lovely you are ! " he said, the words bursting spontaneously from his lips ; " there is no flaw hi your beauty, and your face beams with happiness." "Papa turned flatterer ! " she cried, springing up and allowing him to draw her to his knee. "I'm waiting for the lecture," she said presently, " you know I always like to have disagreeable things over as soon as possible." " Who told you there was to be a lecture ? " "Nobody, sir." " What have you been doing that you feel entitles you to one?" "I don't remember." "Nor I either. So let us to business. Here, take this chair beside me. Do you know how much you are worth?" "Not precisely, sir," she answered demurely, taking the chair and folding her hands pensively in her lap ; " but very little, I presume, since you have given me away for nothing." " By no means," he said, with a slight smile of amuse- ment at her unwonted mood. "It was for your own happiness, which is no trifle in my esteem. But you be- long to me still." She looked at him with glistening eyes. " Thank you, dearest papa ; yes, I do belong to you and always shall Please excuse my wilful misunderstanding of your query, I do not know how much money and other property I own, but have an idea tit is a million more or less." >8 ELSIE'S WOMANHOOD. "My dear child ! it is fully three times that." " Papa ! is it indeed ? " " Yes, it was about a million at the time of your Grandfather Grayson's death, and has increased very much during your mamma's minority and yours ; which you know has been a very long one. You own several stores and a dwelling house in New Orleans, a fine plan- tation with between two and three hundred negroes, and I have invested largely for you in stocks of various kinds both in your own country and in England. I wish you to examine all the papers, certificates of stock, bonds, deeds, mortgages, and so forth." " Oh, papa ! " she cried, lifting her hands in dismay, " what a task. Please excuse me. You know all about it, and is not that sufficient ? " " No, the property is yours ; I have been only your steward, and must now render up an account to you for the way in which I have handled your property." " You render an account to me, my own dear father," she said low and tremulously, while her face flushed crimson ; "I cannot bear to iiear you speak so. I am fully satisfied, and very, very thankful for all your kind care of it and of me." He regarded her with a smile of mingled tenderness and amusement, while softly patting and stroking the small white hand laid lovingly upon his. " Could I could any father do less for his own be- loved child ? " he asked. " Not you, I know, papa. But may I ask you a ques- tion?" " As many as you like." ELSIE'S WOMANHOOD. 19 " How much are you worth ? Ah ! you needn't look so quizzical. I mean how much do you own in money, land, etc. ? " " Something less than a million ; I cannot tell you the exact number of dollars and cents." " Hardly a third as much as I ! It doesn't seem right. Papa, take half of mine. " "That wouldn't balance the scales either," he said laughingly; "and besides, Mr. Travilla has now some right to be consulted." " Papa, I could never love him again, if he should object to my giving you all but a few hundred thou- sands." " He would not. He says he will never touch a cent of your property ; it must be settled entirely upon your- self, and subject to your control. And that is quite right; for he, too, is wealthy." "Papa, I don't think I deserve so much; I don't want the care of so much. I do wish you would be so good as to take half for your own, and continue to man- age the other half for me as you think best." " What you deserve is not the question just now. This is one of the talents which God has given you, and I think you ought, at least for the present, to keep the principal and decide for yourself what shall be done with the interest. You are old enough now to do so, and I hope do not wish to shirk the responsibility, since God, in His good providence, has laid it upon you." He spoke very gravely and Elsie's face reflected the expression of his. ''No, I do not wish it now, papa," she said, in a low, 20 ELSIE'S WOMANHOOD. sweet voice. " I will undertake it, asking Him for wis- dom and grace to do it aright." They were busy for the next hour or two over the papers. "There ! " cried Elsie, at length, " we have examined the last one, and I think I understand it all pretty thor- oughly." "I think you do. And now another thing; ought you not to go and see for yourself your property in Louisiana ? " Elsie assented, on condition that he would take her. " Certainly, my dear child, can you suppose I would . ever think of permitting you to go alone? " "Thank you, papa. And if poor mammy objects this time, she may take her choice of going or staying ; but go I must, and see how my poor people are faring at Viamede. I have dim, dreamy recollections of it as a kind of earthly paradise. Papa, do you know why mammy has always been so distressed whenever I talked of going there?" " Painful associations, no doubt. Poor creature ! it was there her husband an unruly negro belonging to a neighboring planter was sold away from her, and there she lost her children, one by accidental drowning, the others by some epidemic disease. Your own mother, too, died there, and Chloe I think never loved one of her own children better." " No, I'm sure not. But she never told me of her husband and children, and I thought she had never had any. And now, papa, that we are done with business for the present, I have a request to makt." ELSIE'S WOMANHOOD. 31 " Well, daughter, what is it ? " " That you will permit me to renew my old intimacy with Lucy Carrington ; or at least to call on her. You remember she was not well enough to be at the wedding ; she is here at Ashlands with her baby. Mr. and Mrs. Carrington called here yesterday while you were out, and both urged me not to be ceremonious with Lucy, as she is hardly well enough to make calls and is longing to see me." "And what answer did you give them? "he asked with some curiosity. " That I should do so if possible ; that meant if I could obtain your permission, papa." " You have it. Lucy is in some sort taken into the family now, and you are safely engaged ; to say nothing of your mature years," he added laughingly, as she seated herself on his knee again and thanked him with a hug and kiss. " You dear good papa ! " "Some girls of your age, heiresses in their own right^ would merely have said, 'I'm going,' never asking per- mission." " Ah, but I like to be ruled by you. So please don't give it up. Now about Enna? " "If I had any authority in the matter, I should say, you shall not give her a cent. She doesn't deserve it from you or any one." " Then I shall wait till you change your mind." Mr. Dinsmore shook his head. " Ah ! my little girl, you don't realize how much some one else's opinions will soon weigh with you," he answered, putting an arm 22 ELSIE'S WOMANHOOD. about her and looking with fatherly delight into the sweet face. " Ah, papa ! " she cried, laying her cheek to his, " please don't talk so ; it hurts me." " Then, dearest, I shall not say it again, though in- deed I was not reproaching you ; it is right, very right, that husband and wife should be more than all the world beside to each other." Elsie's cheek crimsoned. "It has not come to that yet, father dear," she murmured, half averting her blush- ing face; " and I don't know which of you I love best or how I could ever do without either : the love differs in kind rather than in degree." He drew her closer. " Thank you, my darling ; what more could I ask or desire? " A slight tap on the door and Mrs. Dinsmore looked in. "Any admittance?" she asked playfully. " Always to my wife," answered her husband, releas- ing Elsie and rising to hand Rose a chair. " Thanks, my dear, but I haven't time to sit down," she said. " Here is a note of invitation for us all to spend the day at Roselands. Shall we go ? " " Certainly, if it suits you, Rose," replied Mr. Dins- more; "and Elsie; " he added, "will you go, daugh- ter?" " If you wish it, papa," she answered cheerfully ; yet there was a slight reluctance in her tone. He gave her a kind, fond look. " You are your own mistress, and can accept or decline as your judgment and wishes dictate." " But you would rather have me go, papa ? " ELSIE'S WOMANHOOD. 23 " I would, because it would seem more kind and cour- teous. But what is the objection in your mind ? Per- haps it could be removed." " I wanted so much to see Lucy this morning," Elsie answered with a blush ; " but to-morrow will do." " But both might be accomplished if mamma and Adelaide like to have Caesar drive them and the little ones over to Roselands. Then you and I will mount our horses and away to Ashlands for a call, leaving there in good time to join the dinner party at Roselands. How- will that do?" " Oh, bravely, you dear darling papa ! always con- triving for my enjoyment." Mr. Dinsmore followed his wife from the room. " 'Twill be an early return of Carrington's call," he said, "but I have a little business with him." " Yes, I'm very glad : it is a good plan j but don't hurry Elsie away. She and Lucy will want along talk." "I promise to be careful to obey orders," he answered, sportively. " Is that all ? " "Yes ; only see that you don't stay too long, and keep the dinner waiting at Roselands." "Mamma," asked Elsie, bringing up the rear as they entered the sitting-room, "can't you go, too you and Aunt Adelaide ? Four make as nice a party as two, and the babies can be driven over quite safely, with their mammies, to take care of them." " No," said Rose, " I never accept such late invita- tions; I shall " "My dear," said her husband, "we would be very 24 ELSIE'S WOMANHOOD. " No, no ; the first arrangement is decidedly the best ; " putting on an air of pretended pique. "Babies! do you call me a baby?" cried young Horace, who had sprung to his feet with a flash of indig- nation in his great black eyes, "I'm nine years old, Elsie. Rosie there's the only baby belonging to this house. Do you think papa would let a baby have a pony like Gip ? and a pistol of his own, too? " Elsie put her arms round his neck, and gave him a kiss, " I beg ten thousand pardons." " Elsie, my daughter, don't allow yourself to speak so extravagantly," interrupted her father. " I will try not, papa," she answered. "I beg your pardon, Horace dear, and assure you I think you are quite a manly young man. Now I must prepare for my ride, papa. I shall be ready by the time the horses can be brought to the door." "Papa," said Horace, as the door closed upon his sister, " may I ride Gip to-day? " " If you promise me to keep close beside the car- riage." " Oh, papa, can't I ride on ahead a little, now and then, or fall a few paces behind if I wish ? " "No ; you may do just what I have given permission for, and nothing else." CHAPTER FOURTH. * Grace was in all her steps, heaven in her eye, In ev'ry gesture, dignity and love." MILTON'S PARADISE LOST. "Bui, Elsie, what of Mr. Travilla?" asked her father, as he handed her into the saddle. " He will not be here till evening, sir," she answered, the rose on her cheek deepening slightly. " Then I can have undisturbed possession for to-day at least," replied Mr. Dinsmore, mounting. "We couldn't have a lovelier day for a ride." "Nor better company," added Elsie, archly, keeping her horse's head on a line with that of her father's larger steed, as they followed the winding carriage road at a brisk canter. "Why, you conceited little puss?" returned Mr. Dinsmore laughing. Elsie blushed more deeply this time. " Why, papa, you are the company to-day, are you not ? I wished to go, and you kindly arranged to accompany me." "Ah! and that is how you look at it? Well, Ire- call my rebuke, and thank you for your what shall I say pretty compliment, or appreciation of my society? " " Both, if you like. Oh, how nice it is to be at home again in our own dear native land." " And what do you call your own dear native land ? " 25 aS ELSIE'S WOMANHOOD. " What a strange question, papa ! The great, grand old Union to be sure North and South, East and West is it not all mine ? Have you not taught me so your- self?" " Yes," he said musingly. They rode on in silence for some minutes, and when he spoke again, it was upon a subject entirely foreign to the last. " The place looks natural," he remarked, as they turned into the avenue leading to the fine old dwelling of the Carringtons. "How kind, how very kind, to come so soon!" was Mrs. Carrington's cordial, joyful salutation. "Mr. Dinsmore, I owe you a thousand thanks for not only per- mitting your daughter to come, but bringing her your- self." "You are very welcome, my dear madam," he answered courteously; "and, indeed, I should like to see Mrs. Rose myself, when she is well enough and feels that it will be agreeable to her." A few moments' chat in the drawing-room, and Mr. Dinsmore drew out his watch. "How long a talk do you wart with your friend to-day, Elsie?" he asked. "Oh, just as long as I can be allowed, papa!" she cried, with much of the old childish eagerness. " Then the sooner you begin, the better, I think, for we ought to be on our way to Roselands in an hour, or an hour and a quarter at the farthest." Upon that the gentlemen retired to the library to talk over business matters, and Mrs. Carrington led the way ELSIE'S WOMANHOOD. 27 for Elsie to Lucy's room. But pausing in the upper hall, she took the young girl in her arms, folding her in a close, loving embrace, and heaping upon her tearful, tender, silent caresses. "My poor boy ! my poor dear Herbert," she mur- mured at length, as she released her hold. " Darling, I can never forget that you might have been my daughter. But there I will leave you. Lucy occupies her old rooms, and yonder is her door ; you know the way." "But come in with me, dear Mrs. Carrington," urged Elsie, the tears shining in her eyes. " No, dear, not just yet. Lucy would prefer to see you quite alone at first, I know." And she glided away in the opposite direction. A soft, cooing sound came to Elsie's ear, mingled with fondling words, in a negro voice, as she stood an instant waiting admittance. Lucy, a good deal paler and thin- ner than the Lucy of old, lay back in an easy chair, languidly turning the leaves of a new magazine. "Open the door, mammy," she said, "I thought I heard a rap." Then at sight of Elsie, the magazine was hastily tossed aside, and with a cry of joy, " Oh, you darling ! I thought I'd never see you again," she sprang forward, caught her friend in a close embrace, and wept upon her neck. Elsie soothed her with caresses and words of endear- ment, and presently she calmed down, made her friend take a seat, and sinking back into her own, wiped away the tears still welling up in her eyes, and with a little hysterical laugh, said, " Please don't look so concerned, 28 ELSIE'S WOMANHOOD. or think I'm unhappy with my dear old Phil, or going to die, or any such nonsense : it's just my nerves ; hateful, torturing things ! I wish I' d never found out I had any." " You poor dear, I'm so sorry for your lost health," said Elsie, exchanging her chair for a low ottoman "at Lucy's feet, and taking the small thin hands in hers, stroking and patting them caressingly; '"'I know nerves won't be reasoned with, and that tears are often a great relief." "And I've everything to make me happy," sobbed Lucy "the best husband in the world, and the darling- est of babies, to say nothing of mamma and papa, and the rest, and really almost everything one could desire." " Oh, the baby, yes ! " cried Elsie, turning towards it with eager interest ; ' ' the sweet, pretty darling. May I take him a moment, Lucy? " "Certainly, if he's not too heavy bring him here, mammy. I remember your father would not allow you to lift or carry little Horace." " Ah, but that was years ago ! Ah, how lovely he is ! " as the babe accepted her mute invitation to -come to her. " You are rich indeed, with this treasure added 'to all your others. And you and your Phil don't quarrel ?" Thank, you,, ray dear kind father. I have another reason for wishing to start to-morrow. I'm growing anxious ; and impatient to see my birthplace again : and,,'.' she added low and tenderly, " mamma's grave.'' "Yes, we will visit it together for the first time'; though .1 have.. stood there alone again and again, and her baby daughter used to be taken there frequently to scatter flowers over, .it and play beside it. Do you re- member that? " . "Yes, sir, as an -.almost forgotten dream, as I do the house and grounds and some of the old servants who petted and humored me." While father and daughter conversed thus together ia ELSIE'S WOMANHOOD. 41 the parlor, a dusky figure sat at a window in the adjoin- ing bedroom, gazing out upon the moonlighted streets and watching the passers-by. But her thoughts, too, were straying to Viamede ; fast-coming memories of earlier days, some all bright and' joyous, others filled with the gloom and thick darkness of a terrible anguish, made her by turns long for and dread the arrival at her journey's end. A light touch on her shoulder, and she turned to find her young mistress at her side. "My poor old mammy, I bring you news you will be sorry to hear," said Elsie, seating herself upon the ample lap, and laying her arm across the broad shoulders. " What dat, honey ? " "We start to-morrow for Viamede; papa has sent John to engage our passage on the steamer." "Dat all, darlin' ? " queried Chloe, with a sigh of re- lief, "if we's got to go, might's well go quick an' hab it ober." "Well, I'm glad you take so sensible a view of it," remarked Elsie, relieved in her turn; "and I hope you will find much less pain and more pleasure than you ex- pect in going back to the old home." The next morning, as Mr. Dinsmore and his daughter sat upon the deck of the steamer, enjoying the sunlight ? the breeze, and the dancing of the water, having 'cleared their port and gotten fairly out into the gulf, a startling incident occurred. Chloe stood at a respectful distance, leaning over the side of tht vessel, watching the play of the wheel and the rainbow in the spray that fell in showers at its every 42 ELSIE'S WOMANHOOD. revolution. An old negro busied about the deck ; drew near and addressed her : " Well, auntie, you watchin' dat ole wheel dar? Fust time you trable on dis boat, eh ? " Chloe started at the sound of the voice, turned sud- denly round and faced the speaker, her features working with emotion : one moment of earnest scrutiny on the part of both, and with a wild cry, "Aunt Chloe! my ole woman," " Uncle Joe ! it can't be you," they rushed into each other's arms, and hung about each other's neck, weeping and sobbing like two children. "Papa! what is it?" exclaimed Elsie, greatly sur- prised at the little scene. " Her husband, no doubt : he's too old to be a son." " Oh, how glad, how glad I am ! " and Elsie started to her feet, her eyes full of tears, and her sweet face sparkling all over with sympathetic joy. " Papa, I shall buy him ! they must never be parted again till death comes between." A little crowd had already gathered about the excited couple, every one on deck hurrying to the spot, eager to learn the cause of the tumult of joy and grief into which the two seemed to have been so suddenly thrown. Mr. Dinsmore rose, and giving his arm to Elsie, led her towards the throng, saying in answer to her last re- mark, "Better act through me, then, daughter, or you will probably be asked two or three prices." "O papa, yes; please attend co it for me only only I must have him, for dear old mammy's sake, at what- ever cost." ELSIE'S WOMANHOOD. 43 The crowd opened to the lady and gentleman as they drew near. "My poor old mammy, what is it? whom have you found?" asked Elsie. But Chloe was speechless with a joy so deep that it wore the aspect of an almost heart-breaking sorrow. She could only cling with choking sobs to her husband's arm. "What's all this fuss, Uncle Joe?" queried the captain. " Let go the old darkie ; what's she to you ? " " My wife, sah, dat I ain't seed for twenty years, sah," replied the old man, trying to steady his trembling tones, obeying the order, but making no effort to shake off Chloe' s clinging hold. " Leave him for a little now, mammy dear ; you shall never be parted again," whispered Elsie in her nurse's ear. " Come with me, and let papa talk to the captain." Chloe obeyed, silently following her young mistress to the other side of the deck, but ever and anon turning her head to look back with wet eyes at the old wrinkled black face and white beard that to her were so dear, so charming. His eyes were following her with a look of longing, yearning affection, and involuntarily he stretched out his arms towards her. "Off to your work, sir," ordered the captain, "and let's have no more of this nonsense." Old Joe moved away with a patient sigh. "The woman is your property, I presume, sir?" the captain remarked in a respectful tone, addressing Mr. Dinsmore. " Yes, my daughter's, which amounts to the same ," that gentleman replied in a tone of indifference; 44 ELSIE'S WOMANHOOD. then changing the subject, made some inquiries about the speed and safety of the boat, the length of her trips, etc. The captain answered pleasantly, showing pride in his vessel. Then they spoke of other things : the country, the crops, the weather. "Sit down, mammy/' said Elsie pityingly, as they reached tb^ settee where she and her father had been sitting ; " you are trembling so you can scarcely stand/' " O darlin', dat's true 'nuff, I'se mos* ready to drop," she said tremulously, coming down heavily upon a trunk that stood close at hand. " Oh, de good Lord hab bring me face to face wid my ole Uncle Joe ; oh, I neber 'spected to see him no more in dis wicked world. But dey'll take 'im off again an' dis ole heart'll break," she added, with a bursting sob. "No, no, mammy, you shall have him, if money can accomplish it." "You buy Mm, darlin'? Oh, your ole mammy can neber t'ank you 'nuff ! " and a low, happy laugh mingled N with the choking sobs. "But dey'll ask heaps ob "money." " You shall have him, let the price be what it will," 'iwas Elsie's assurance. " See papa is bargaining with the captain now, for they look at Uncle Joe as they talk." Chloe regarded them with eager interest; yes, they were looking at Uncle Joe, and evidently speaking of him. "By the way," Mr. Dinsmore remarked carelessly, ELSIE'S WOMANHOOD. 45 "does Uncle Joe belong to you? or is he merely a hired hand ? " "He's my property, sir." "Would you like to sell?" " I am not anxious ; he's a good hand, faithful and nonest: quite a religious character in fact," he con- cluded with a sneer; "overshoots the mark in prayin and psalm-singing. But do you want to buy ? " "Well yes; my daughter is fond of her old mammy, and for her sake would be willing to give a reasonable sum. What do you ask ? " " Make me an offer." "Five hundred dollars." "Five hundred? ridiculous ! he's worth twice that.'* " I think not, he is old not far from seventy and will soon be past work and only a burden and expense. My offer is a good one. ' ' "Make it seven hundred and I'll take it." Mr. Dinsmore considered a moment. "That is too high," he said at length, "but for the sake of making two poor creatures happy, I will give it." "Cash down?" " Yes, a check on a New Orleans bank." "Please walk down into the cabin then, sir, and we'll conclude the business at once." In a few moments Mr. Dinsmore returned to hi daughter's side, and placing the receipted bill of sale in her hands, asked, " Have I given too much? " "Oh, no, papa, no indeed ! I should have given a thousand without a moment's hesitation, if asked it five, ten thousand, if need be, rather than have them 46 ELSIE'S WOMANHOOD. parted again," she exclaimed, the bright tears shining in her eyes. " Mammy, my poor old mammy, Uncle Joe belongs to me now, and you can have him always with you as long as the Lord spares your lives." " Now bress de Lord ! " cried the old woman de- voutly, raising her streaming eyes and clasped hands to heaven; " de good Lord dat hears de prayers ob His chilen's cryin' to Him when dere hearts is ober- whelmed ! " "Go break the news to Uncle Joe, mammy," said Elsie; "see, yonder he stands looking so eager and wistful." Chloe hurried to hjs side, spoke a few rapid words ; there was another long, clinging, tearful embrace, and they hastened to their master and mistress to pour out their thanks and blessings upon them, mingled with praises and fervent thanksgivings to the Giver of all good. The joy and gratitude of the poor old couple were very sweet, very delightful to Elsie, and scarcely less so to her father. " Mammy dear, I never saw you wear so happy a face," Elsie said, as Chloe returned to her after an hour or two spent in close conversation with her newly re- covered spouse. " Ah, honey, your ole mammy links she neber so glad in all her life ! " cried the poor old creature, clasping her hands together in an ecstasy of joy and gratitude while the big tears shone in her eyes. " I'se got ole Uncle Joe back agin, an' he not de same, he bettah man, Chris- tian man He say, ' Aunt Chloe we uns trabble de same LSfE'S WOMANHOOD. 47 road now, honey: young Joe proud, angry, swearin', drinkin' boy, your Oie Joe he lub de Lord an' try to sarve Him wid all he might. And de Lord good Massa. De debbil berry bad one.' " " Dear mammy, I am very glad for you ; I think noth- ing else could have made you so happy." Chloe, weeping again for joy, went on to tell her young mistress that Uncle Joe had discovered a grand- child in New Orleans, Dinah by name, waiting-maid in a wealthy family. "But how is that, mammy? Papa and I thought all your children died young." " No, darlin', when Massa Grayson buy me in New Orleans, an' de odder gentleman buy Uncle Joe, we hab little girl four years ole, an' de ole missus keep her," sobbed Chloe, living over again the agony of the parting, "an' Dinah her chile." " Mammy, if money will buy her, you shall have her, too," said Elsie earnestly. The remainder of the short voyage was a happy time to the whole of our little party, Chloe, with her restored husband by her side, now looking forward to the visit to Viamede with almost unmingled pleasure. As they passed up the bay, entered Teche Bayou and pressed on, threading their way through lake and lakelet, past plain and forest, plantation and swamp, Elsie ex- claimed again and again at the beauty of the scenery. Cool shady dells carpeted with the rich growth of flow- ers, miles upon miles of lawns as smoothly shaven, as velvety green and as nobly shaded by magnificent oaks and magnolias, as any king's demesne; lordly villas 48 ELSIE'S WOMANHOOD. peering through groves of orange trees, tall white .^ houses and the long rows of cabins of the laborers ; united to form a panorama of surpassing loveliness. "Is Viamede as lovely as that, papa?" Elsie would ask, as they steamed past one fine residence after another. " Quite," he would reply with a smile, at length add- ing, *' There is not a more beautiful or valuable estate in the country; as you may judge for yourself, for this is it." "This, papa? Oh it is lovely, lovely! and every- thing in such perfect order," she cried delightedly as they swept on past a large sugar-house and an immense orange orchard, whose golden fruit and glossy leaves shone brightly in the slanting rays of the nearly setting sun, to a lawn as large, as thickly carpeted with smoothly shaven grass and many-hued flowers, and as finely shaded with giant oaks, graceful magnolias, and groves of orange trees, as any they had passed. The house a grand old mansion with spacious rooms, wide cool halls and corri- dors was now in full view, now half concealed by the trees and shrubbery. The boat rounded to at a little pier opposite the dwell- ing, and in another moment our friends had landed, and leaving the servants to attend to the baggage were walk- ing on towards the house. CHAPTER SIXTH. M Wilt thou draw near the nature of the gods ? Draw near them then in being merciful, Sweet mercy is nobility's true badge." SHAKESPEARk. "PAPA, it seems an earthly paradise," said Elsie, "and like a dream that I have seen all before." "A dream that was a reality. And it is all your own, my darling," he answered with a proud, fond look into the bright animated face, keenly enjoying her pleasure. "But what, what is going on there?" she asked, gazing intently in the direction of the negro quarter, where a large crowd of them, probably all belonging to the plantation, were assembled. At that instant something rose 'eart swelled with joy and pleasure in his child, and all fears that she had overfatigued herself vanished from his mind. She was full of plans for the comfort and profit of her people, but all to be subject to his approval. "Papa dear," she said as soon as their morning greetings had been exchanged, "I think of sending for a physician to ELSIE'S WOMANHOOD. 6i examine Suse and tell us whether there is reason for her complaints. She must not be forced to work if she is really ill." "I think it would be well," he replied. "There is an excellent physician living about three miles from here." Elsie was prompt in action by both nature and train- ing, and instantly summoning a servant, despatched him at once on the proposed errand. " And now what next? " smilingly inquired her father. "Well, papa, after breakfast and prayers how some of the old servants seemed to enjoy them last night I think of going down to the quarter to see what may be needed there. Unless you have some other plan for me," she added quickly. "Suppose we first mount our horses and ride over the estate, to learn for ourselves whether Mr. Spriggs has been as faithful as he would have us believe." "Ah yes, papa ; yours is always the better plan." Their ride in the clear, sweet morning air was most delightful, and both felt gratified with the fine appear- ance of the crops and the discovery that Spriggs' boast was no idle one ; everything being in the nicest order. They took the quarter on the way to the house, and dismounting, entered one neatly whitewashed cabin after another, kindly inquiring into the condition and wants of the inmates, Elsie making notes on her tablets that nothing might be forgotten. Everywhere the visit was received with joy and grati- tude, and an almost worshipful homage paid to the sweet young mistress whom they seemed to regard as akin to -\ 66 ELSIE'S WOMANHOOD. the angels : probably in a great measure because of her extraordinary likeness to her mother, of whom, for so many years they had been accustomed to think and speak as one of the heavenly host. Spriggs' victim of the previous day was in bed, com- plaining much of a misery in back and head and limbs. " De doctah hab been heyah," she said, " an' leff me dese powdahs to take," drawing a tiny package from under her pillow. Elsie spoke soothingly to her ; said she should have some broth from the house, and should be excused from work till the doctor pronounced her quite fit for it again ; and left her apparently quite happy. It was the intention of our friends to spend some weeks at Viamede. " I want you to have every possible enjoyment while here, my darling," Mr. Dinsmore said, as they sat to- gether resting after their ride, in the wide veranda at the front of the house, looking out over the beautiful lawn, the bayou, and the lovely scenery beyond. " There are pleasant neighbors who will doubtless call when they hear of our arrival." " I almost wish they may not hear of it then," Elsie said half laughing ; " I just want to be left free from the claims of society for this short time, that I may fully en- joy being alone with my father and attending to the com- fort of my people. But excuse me, dear papa, I fear I interrupted you." " I excuse you on condition that you are not again guilty of such a breach of good manners. I was going on to say there are delightful drives and walks in the ELSIE'S WOMANHOOD. 67 vicinity, of which I hope we will be able to make good use ; also, we will have a row now and then on the bayou, and many an hour of quiet enjoyment of the contents of the library." " Yes, papa, I hope so; I do so enjoy a nice book, especially when read with you. But I think that, for the present at least, I must spend a part of each day in at- tending to the preparation of winter clothing for house- servants and field hands." "I won't have you doing the actual work, the cutting out and sewing, I mean," he answered decidedly ; "the head work, calculating how much material is needed, what it will cost, etc., may be yours; but you have servants enough to do all the rest." " But, papa, consider; over three hundred to clothe, and I want it all done while I am here to oversee." " Have not some of the house-servants been trained as seamstresses? " " Yes, sir, two of them, mammy tells me." " Very well ; she knows how to run a sewing-machine. Send for one when you order your material ; both can be had in the nearest town. Aunt Chloe can soon teach the girls how to manage it ; Uncle Joe, too ; he has had no regular work assigned him yet, and the four can certainly do all without anything more than a little oversight from you ; yes, without even that." "What a capital planner you are, papa," she said brightly ; "I never thought of getting a machine or set- ting Uncle Joe to running it ; but I am sure it's just the thing to do. Mammy can cut and the girls baste, and among them the machine can easily be kept going from 68 ELSIE'S WOMANHOOD. morning to night. I'll make out my orders and send for the things at once." " That is right, daughter ; it pleases me well to note how you put in practice the lesson of promptness I have always tried to teach you. I will help you in making your estimate of quantities needed, prices to be paid, etc., and I think we can accomplish the whole before dinner. Come to the library and let us to work." " You dear, kind father, always trying to help me and smooth the least roughness out of my path, and make life as enjoyable to me as possible," she said, laying her hand on his arm and looking up into his face with eyes beaming with filial love, as they rose and stood together for a moment. "A good daughter deserves a good father," he answered, smoothing with soft caressing motion the shi- ning hair. " But have you the necessary data for our es- timates ? ' ' "The number to be clothed, papa? I know how many house-servants, how many babies and older chil- dren at the quarter, but not the number of field hands." " That will be easily ascertained. I will send a note to Spriggs, w^o can tell us all about it." Mr. Dinsmore's plans were carried out to the letter, and with entire success. This was Saturday ; the orders were sent that afternoon, and on Monday morning the work began. Aunt Chloe proved fully equal to the cut- ting of the garments, and Uncle Joe an apt scholar under her patient, loving teaching, and a willing worker at his new employment. There was scarcely need of even oversight on the part of the young mistress. She would ELSIE'S WOMANHOOD. 6g drop in occasionally, commend their industry, and in- quire if anything were wanting ; then felt free for books, rides or walks, music or conversation with her father. But she was often down at the quarter visiting the sick, the aged and infirm, seeing that their wants were sup- plied, reading the Bible to them, praying with them, tell- ing of the better land where no trouble or sorrow can come, and trying to make the way to it, through the shed blood of Christ, very plain and clear. Then she would gather the children about her and tell them of the blessed Jesus and His love for little ones. " Does He lub niggahs, missus? " queried one grinning little wooly head. " Yes, if they love Him : and they won't be negroes in heaven." "White folks, missus? Oh, dat nice! Guess I go dar; ef dey let me in." But we are anticipating somewhat, though Elsie found time for a short visit to the sick and aged on the after- noon of even that first day at Viamede. The next was the Sabbath, and as lovely a day as could be desired. The horses were ordered for an early hour, and father and daughter rode some miles together to morning serv- ice, then home again. As the shadows began to lengthen in the afternoon, Elsie was sitting alone on the veranda, her father having left her side but a moment before, when an old negro, familiarly known as Uncle Ben, came round the corner of the house, and slowly approached her. Very sweet and fair, very beautiful she looked to his admiring eyes. She held a Bible in her hand, and was ELSIE'S WOMANHOOD. so intent upon its perusal that she was not aware of his coming until he had drawn quite near. Ascending the steps, and standing at a respectful distance, hat in hand, he waited till she should notice and address him. Glancing up from her book, "Ah, Uncle Ben, good evening," she said. " What can I do for you ? " " Missus," he answered, making a low salam, "all de darkies is gadered togedder under a tree 'round de house yondah, and dey 'pint me committee to come an' ax de young missus .vould she be so kind for to come an' read the Bible to dem, an' talk, an' pray, an' sing like she do for de sick ones down to de quarter? Dey be berry glad, missus, an' more dan obliged." " Indeed I will, uncle," Elsie said, rising at once and going with him, Bible in hand ; " I had been thinking of doing this very thing." She found a rustic seat placed for her under a giant oak, and garlanded with fragrant flowers. Aunt Phillis, Aunt Chloe, Uncle Joe, and the rest of the house-serv- ants, gathered in a semicircle around it, while beyond, the men, women, and children from the quarter sat or lay upon the grass, enjoying the rest from the toils of the week, the quiet, the balmy air laden with the fragrance of the magnolia and orange, and all the sweet sights and sounds of rural life in that favored region Every one rose at the appearance of their young mis- tress, and there were murmurs of delight and gratitude coming from all sides. " Now bress de Lord, she read the good book for us." "She good an' lubly as de angels." " Missus berry kind, de darkies neber for !*" ELSIE'S WOMAfl tfOOD. 71 Elsie acknowledged it all with a smile and a few kindly words, then commanding silence by a slight motion of the hand, addressed them in a clear, melodious voice, which, though not loud, could be distinctly heard by every one of the now almost breathless listeners. " I shall read to you of Jesus and some of His own words," she said, "but first we will ask Him to help us to understand, to love, and to obey His teachings." Then folding her hands and lifting her eyes to the clear blue sky above, she led them in a prayer so simple and childlike, so filial and loving in spirit and expres- sion, that the dullest understood it, and felt that she spoke to One who was very near and dear to her. After that she read with the same distinct utterance the third chapter of John's Gospel, and commented briefly upon it. " You all want to go to heaven? " she said, closing the book. " Yes, Miss Elsie." "Yes missus, we all does." " But to be able to go there you must know the way, and now I want to make sure you do know it. Can you tell me what you must do to be saved? " There were various answers. "Be good." "Mine de rules an' do 'bout right." "Pray to de Lord," etc., etc. Elsie shook her head gravely. "All that you must do, and more besides. What does Jesus say ? ' God so loved the world, that He gave His only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in Him should not perish, but have everlasting life.' We must believe in Jesus believe all that the Bible tells us about Him, that He was very God *nd very man, that He came down from heaven, was ELSIE'S WOMANHOOD. born a little babe and laid in a manger, that He grew up to be a man, went about doing good, and at last suffered and died the cruel death of the cross ; and all to save poor lost sinners. " But even that is not enough : the devils believe so much ; they know it is all true. But beside this, we must believe on Christ Jesus. He offers to be our Saviour. ' Come unto Me . . . and I will give you rest.' ' Him that cometh unto Me, I will in no wise cast out.' And you must come, you must take the eternal life He offers you j you must rest on Him and Him only. " Suppose you were out on the bayou yonder, and the boat should upset and float beyond your reach, or be swept away from you by the wind and waves, and you couldn't swim ; but just as you are sinking, you find a plank floating near; you catch hold of it, you find it strong and large enough to bear your weight, and you throw yourself upon it and cling to it for life. Just so you must cast yourself on Jesus, and cling to Him with all your strength ; and He will save you ; for He is able and willing ' to save to the uttermost all that come unto God by Him.' " He will wash away your sins in His own precious blood, and dress you in the beautiful robe of His perfect righteousness ; that is, set His goodness to your account, so that you will be saved just as if you had been a* good and holy as He was. Then you will love Him and try to do right to please Him ; not to buy heaven ; you cannot do that, for ' all our righteousnesses are as filthy /ags,' and we cannot be saved unless we trust only ir Jesus and His righteousness." ELSIE'S WOMANHOOD. 73 Something in the faces before her caused filsie to turn her head. Her father stood with grave, quiet air, but a few feet from her. "Papa," she said, in an undertone, and blushing slightly, " I did not know you were here. Will you not speak to them ? you can do it so much better than I." She sat down, and stepping to her side he made a brief and simply worded address on the necessity of re- pentance and faith in Jesus, "the only Saviour of sin- ners," His willingness to save nd, unless I'm called up as a witness in court; but you can't prowl about here long without being seen and arrested as a suspicious character, an abolitionist, or some other sort of scoun- drel which last you know you are," Arthur could not help adding in a parenthesis. " So take my advice, and retreat while you can. Now out o' the way, if you please, and let me pass." Jackson sullenly stood aside, letting go the rein, and Arthur galloped off. In the meantime, the older members of the family at the Oaks were quietly enjoying themselves in the library, where bright lights, and a cheerful wood-fire snapping and crackling on the hearth, added to the sense of com- fort imparted by handsome furniture, books, paintings*, statuary, rich carpet, soft couches, and easy chairs. The children had been sent to bed. Mr. and Mrs. Dinsmore sat by the centre table, the one busy with the evening paper, the other sewing, but now and then cast- ing a furtive glance at a distant sofa, where AJ>. Travilla ELSIE'S WOMANHOOD. 95 and Elsie were seated side by side, conversing in an undertone. " This is comfort, having you to myself again," he was saying, as he watched admiringly the delicate fingers busied with a crochet needle, forming bright meshes of scarlet zephyr. " How I missed you when you were gone ! and yet, do you know, I cannot altogether regret the short separation, since otherwise I should have missed my precious budget of letters." " Ah," she said, lifting her merry brown eyes to his face for an instant, then dropping them again, with a charming smile and blush, " do you think that an origi- nal idea, or rather that it is original only with yourself? " "And you are glad to have mine? though not nearly so sweet and fresh as yours." How glad he looked as he spoke. "Ah ! " she answered archly, "I'll not tell you what I have done with them, lest you grow conceited. But I have a confession to make," and she laughed lightly. " Will you absolve me beforehand ? " "Yes, if you are penitent, and promise to offend no more. What is it?" "I see I have aroused your curiosity, I shall not keep you in suspense. I am corresponding with a young gentleman. Here is a letter from him, received to- day ; " drawing it from her pocket as she spoke, she put it into his hand. " I have no wish to examine it," he said gravely, lay- ing it on her lap. " I can trust you fully, Elsie." "But I should like you to read it; 'tis from Mr. Ma- son, my chaplain at Viamede, and gives a lengthy, and 96 ELSIE'S WOMANHOOD. very interesting account of the Christmas doings there." " Which I should much prefer to hear from your lips, ray little friend." "Ah, read it, please; read it aloud to me; I shall then enjoy it as much as I did the first time; and you ' will learn how truly good and pious Mr. Mason is, far better than from my telling. Not that he talks of him- self, but you perceive it from what he says of others." He complied with her request, reading in the under- tone in which they had been talking. "A very well written and interesting letter," he re- marked, as he refolded and returned it. " Yes, I should judge from it that he is the right man in the right place. I presume the selection of gifts so satisfactory to aH. parties must have been yours? " " Yes, sir ; being with them, I was able to ascertain their wants and wishes, by questioning one in regard to another. Then I made out the list, and left Mr. Mason to do the purchasing for me. I think I can trust him again, and it is a great relief to my mind to have some one there to attend to the welfare of their souls and bodies." "Have you gotten over your fright of this evening?" he inquired tenderly, bending towards her, and speaking lower than before. " Almost if if you have not to return to Ion to-night. Must you, really?" " Yes ; mother would be alarmed by my absence ; and she seldom retires till I am there to bid her good -night." " Then promise nae to avoid that thicket," she pleaded anxiously. ELSIE'S WOMANHOOD. 97 "I cannot think there is any real danger," he said, vith a reassuring smile, " but I shall take the other road j 'tis but a mile further round, and it would pay me to travel fifty to spare you a moment's anxiety, dearest." She looked her thanks. He left at ten, his usual hour, bidding her have no fear for him, since no real evil can befall those who put their trust in Him whose watchful, protecting care is ever about His chosen ones, " Yes," she whispered, as for a moment his arm en- circled her waist, " 'What time I am afraid, I will trust in Thee.' It is comparatively easy to trust for myself, and God will help me to do it for you also." She stood at the window watching his departure, her heart going up in silent prayer for his safety. Then, saying to herself, "Papa must not be disturbed with my idle fancies," she turned to receive his good-night with a face so serene and unclouded, a manner so calm and peaceful, that he had no suspicion of anything amiss. Nor was it an assumed peace and calmness ; for she had not now to learn to cast her care on the Lord, whom she had loved and served from her very infancy ; and her head had not rested many moments upon her pillow,, ere she fell into a deep, sweet sleep, that lasted until morning. While Elsie slept, and Mr. Travilla galloped home- ward by the longer route, the moon, peering through the cloud curtains, looked down upon a dark figure, stand- ing behind a tree not many yards distant from the thicket Elsie had besought her friend to shun. The man held a revolver in his hand, ready cocked for instant use. His $8 ELSIE'S WOMANHOOD. attitude was that of one listening intently for some ex pected sound. He had stood thus for hours, and was growing very weary. ''Curse the wretch!" he muttered, "does he court all night? How many hours have I been here waiting for my chance for a shot at him ? It's getting to be no joke, hungry, cold, tired enough to lie down here on the ground. But I'll stick it out, and shoot him down like a dog. He thinks to enjoy the prize he snatched from me, but he'll find himself mistaken, or my name's n " The sentence ended with a fierce grinding of the teeth. Hark ! was that the distant tread of a horse? He bent his ear to the earth, and almost held his breath to listen. Yes, faint but unmistakable ; the sounds filled him with a fiendish joy. For years he had nursed his hatred of Travilla, whom he blamed al- most exclusively for his failure to get possession of Elsie's fortune. He sprang up and again placed himself in position to fire. But what had become of the welcome sounds? Alas for his hoped-for revenge ; they had died away en- tirely. The horse and his rider must have taken some other road. More low-breathed, bitter curses : yet per- 'chance it was not the man for whose life he thirsted. He i would wait and hope on. But the night waned : one after another the moon and stars set and day began to break in the east ; the birds waking in their nests overhead grew clamorous with joy, yet their notes seemed to contain a warning tone for him, bidding him begone ere the coming of the light hated by those whose deeds are evil. Chilled by the frosty air, LSIE'S WOMANHOOD. 99 and stiff and sore from long standing in a constrained position, he limped away, and disappeared in the deepei shadows of the woods. Arthur's words of warning had taken their desired ef. feet ; and cowardly, as base, wicked, and cruel, the man made haste to flee from the scene of his intended crime, imagining at times that he even heard the bloodho M nd^ already on his track. CHAPTER TENTH. *At last I know thee and my soul, From all thy arts set free, Abjures the cold consummate art Shrin'd as a soul in thee." SARA J. CLARK. THE rest of the winter passed quietly and happily with our friends at Ion and the Oaks, Mr. Travilla spending nearly half his time at the latter place, and in rides and walks with Elsie, whom he now and then coaxed to Ion for a call upon his mother. Their courtship was serene and peaceful : disturbed by no feverish heat of passion, no doubts and fears, no lovers' quarrels, but full of a deep, intense happiness, the fruit of their long and intimate friendship, their full acquaintance with, and perfect confidence in each other, and their strong love. Enna sneeringly observed that "they were more like some staid old married couple than a pair of lovers." Arthur made no confidant in regard to his late inter' view with Jackson ; nothing more was heard or seen of the scoundrel, and gradually Elsie came to the conclusion that Mr. Travilla, who occasionally rallied her good- naturedly on the subject of her fright, had been correct in his judgment that it was either the work of imagina- tion or of some practical joker. 100 ELSIE'S WOMANHOOD. IOI Arthur, on his part, thought that fear of the terrors he had held up before him would cause Jackson whom he knew to be an arrant coward to refrain from adventur- .ing himself again in the neighborhood. But he miscalculated the depth of the man's animosity towards Mr. Travilla, which so exceeded his cowardice ias at length to induce him to return and make another effort to destroy either the life of that gentleman or his hopes of happiness ; perhaps both. Elsie was very fond of the society of her dear ones, yet occasionally found much enjoyment in being alone, for a Short season, with Nature or a book. A very happy little woman, as she had every reason to be, and full of grati- tude and love to the Giver of all good for His unnum- bered blessings, she loved now and then to have a quiet hour in which to count them over, as a miser does his gold, to return her heartfelt thanks, tell her best, her dearest Friend of all, how happy she was, and seek help from Him to make a right use of each talent committed to her care. j Seated in her favorite arbor one lovely spring day, .with thoughts thus employed, and eyes gazing dreamily upon the beautiful landscape spread out at her feet, she was startled from her reverie by some one suddenly step- Iping in and boldly taking a seat by her side. She turned her head. Could it be possible ? Yes, it [was indeed Tom Jackson, handsomely dressed and look- ing, to a casual observer, the gentleman she had once believed him to be. She recognized him instantly. A burning blush suffused her face, dyeing even the fair neck and arms. She spoke not a word, but rose 102 ELSIE'S WOMANHOOD. up hastily with the intent to fly from his hateful pres- ence. "Now don't, my darling, don't run away from me," he said, intercepting her. "I'm sure you couldn't have the heart, if you knew how I have lived for years upon the hope of such a meeting : for my love for you, dearest Elsie, has never lessened, the ardor of my passion has never cooled " "Enough, sir," she said, drawing herself up, her eyes kindling and flashing as he had never thought they could ; " how dare you insult me by such words, and by your presence here ? Let me pass." "Insult you, Miss Dinsmore?" he cried, in affected surprise. " You were not wont, in past days, to con- sider my presence an insult, and I could never have be- lieved fickleness a part of your nature. You are now of age, and have a right to listen to my defense, and my suit for your heart and hand." " Are you mad ? Can you still suppose me ignorant of your true character and your history for years past? Know then that I am fully acquainted with them ; that I know you to be a lover of vice and the society of the vicious a drunkard, profane, a gambler, and one who has stained his hands with the blood of a fellow-creature," she added with a shudder. " I pray God you may re- pent and be forgiven ; but you are not and can never be anything to me." " So with all your piety you forsake your friends when they get into trouble," he remarked with a bitter sneer. "Friend of mine you never were," she answered quietly ; " I know it was my fortune and not myself you ELSIE'S WOMANHOOD. 1*3 really wanted. But though it were true that you loved me as madly and disinterestedly as you professed, had I known your character, never, never should I have held speech with you, much less admitted you to terms of familiarity a fact which I look back upon with the deep- est mortification. Let me pass, sir, and never venture to approach me again." " No you don't, my haughty miss ! I'm not done with you yet," he exclaimed between his clenched teeth, and seizing her rudely by the arm as she tried to step past him. " So you're engaged to that fatherly friend of yours, that pious sneak, that deadly foe to me? " "Unhand me, sir ! " " Not yet," he answered, tightening his grasp, and at the same time taking a pistol from his pocket. "I swear you shall never marry that man: promise me on your oath that you'll not, or I'll shoot you through the heart ; the heart that's turned false to me. D'ye hear," and he held the muzzle of his piece within a foot of her breast. Every trace of color fled from her face, but she stood like a marble statue, without speech or motion of a muscle, her eyes looking straight into his with firm de- fiance. " Do you hear ? " he repeated, in a tone of exaspera- tion, " speak ! promise that you'll never marry Travilla, or I'll shoot you in three minutes shoot you down dead on the spot, if I swing for it before night." " That will be as God pleases," she answered low and reverently; "you caii have no power at all against me except it be given you from above." " I can't, hey ? looks like it ; I've only to touch the 104 ELSIE'S WOMANHOOD. trigger here, and your soul's out o' your body. Better promise than die." Still she stood looking him unflinchingly in the eyeji not a muscle moving, no sign of fear except that deadly; pallor. " Well," lowering his piece, " you're a brave girl, and I haven't the heart to do it," he exclaimed in admira- tion. " I'll give up that promise; on condition that you make another that you'll keep all this a secret for twenty-four hours, so I can make my escape from the neighborhood before they get after me with their blood- iiounds." " That I promise, if you will be gone at once." " You'll not say a word to any one of having seen me, or suspecting I'm about here ? " " Not a word until the twenty-four hours are over." " Then good-bye. Your pluck has saved your life; but remember, I've not said I won't shoot him or your father, if chance throws them in my way," he added, looking back over his shoulder with a malicious leer, as he left the arbor, then disappearing from sight among the trees and shrubbery beyond. Elsie's knees shook and trembled under her ; she sank back into her seat, covering her face and bowing het head upon her lap, while she sent up silent, almost ag- onizing petitions for the safety of those two so inexpress- ibly dear to her. Some moments passed thus, then she- rose and hastened, with a quick nervous step, to the house. She entered her boudoir, and lay down upon a couch trembling in every fibre, every nerve quivering with excitement. The shock had been terrible. LSJE'S WOMANHOOD. 105 " What de matter wid my chile ? what ails you, honey ? " asked Aunt Chloe, coming to her side full of concern. " I think one of my bad headaches is coming on, mamjny. But oh, tell me, is Mr. Travilla here ? and papa ! where is he ? " "Here daughter," his voice answered, close at hand, " and with a note for you from Mr. Travilla, who has not shown himself to-day." She took it eagerly, but with a hand that trembled as if with sudden palsy, while the eyes, usually so keen- sighted, saw only a blurred and confused jumble of let- ters in place of the clear, legible characters really there. "I cannot see," she said, in a half-frightened tone, and pressing the other hand to her brow. "And you are trembling like an aspen leaf," he said, bending over her in serious alarm. " My child, when did this come on ? and what has caused it? " " Papa, I cannot tell you now, or till to-morrow, at this hour ; I will then. But oh, papa dear, dear papa \ " she cried, putting her arm about his neck and bursting into hysterical weeping, "promise me, if you love me promise me, that you will not leave the house till I have told you. I am sick, I am suffering ; you will stay by one? you will not leave me? " " My darling, I will do anything I can to relieve you, mentally or physically," he answered in tones of tender- est love and concern. " I shall not stir from the house, while to do so would increase your suffering. I perceive there has been some villainy practised upon you, and a promise extorted, which I shall not ask you to break ; but rest assured, I shall keep guard over my precious one." 106 ELSIE'S WOMANHOOD. " And Mr. Travilla ! " she gasped. " Oh, papa, if 1 only knew he was safe ! " " Perhaps tbf- note may set your mind at rest on that point. Shall I read it for you ? " "Yes, sir," she said, putting it into his hand with a slight blush, "he never writes what I should be ashamed or afraid to have my father see. ' ' It was but short, written merely to explain his absence, and dated from a neighboring plantation, where he had gone to assist in nursing a sick friend whom he should not be able to leave for some days. There were words of deep, strong affection, but as she had foreseen, nothing that she need care to have her father know or see. "Does not this news allay your fears for him?" Mr. Dinsmore asked tenderly. "Yes, papa," she answered, the tears streaming from her eyes. " Oh, how good God is to me ! I will trust Him, trust Him for you both, as well as myself." She covered her face with her hands while shudder after shudder shook her whole frame. Mr. Dinsmore was much perplexed, and deeply con- cerned. " Shall I send for Dr. Barton ? " he asked. " No, no, papa ! I am not ill ; only my nerves have had a great, a terrible shock ; they seem all unstrung, and my temples are throbbing with pain." " My poor, poor darling ! strange that with all my care and watchfulness you should have been subjected to such a trial. Some ruffian has been trying to extort money from you, I presume, by threatened violence to yourself, Travilla, and me. Where were you ? " "In my arbor, sir." ELSIE'S WOMANHOOD. \Vj "And alone? " " Yes, papa ; I thought myself safe there." " I forbid you to go there or to any distance from the house, alone, again. You must always have some one within call, if not close at your side." "And my father knows I will obey him," she said, tremulously lifting his hand to her lips. He administered an anodyne to relieve the tortured nerves, then sitting down beside her, passed his hand soothingly over hair and cheek, while with the other he held one of hers in loving, tender clasp. Neither spoke, and at length she fell asleep ; yet not a sound, refreshing slumber, but disturbed by starts and moans, and frequent wakings to see and feel that he was still there. " Papa, don't go away; don't leave me ! " was her constant cry. "My darling, my precious one, I will not," was his repeated assurance; "I will stay with you while this trouble lasts." And all that day and night he never left her side, while Rose came and went, full of anxiety and doing every- thing that could be done for the sufferer's relief. It was a night of unrest to them all ; but morning found her free from pain, though weak and languid, and still filled with distress if her father was absent for more than a few moments from her side. She inquired of him at what hour she had come in the day before: then f watched the time and, as soon as released from her promise, told them all. Great was his indignation; and, determined that, if possible, the villain should be apprehended and brought to justice, he sent word at once to the magistrates : a 168 ELSIE'S WOMANHOOD. warrant was issued, and several parties were presently out in different directions in hot pursuit. But with the twenty-four hours' start Jackson L~_.~J made good his escape, and the only advantage gained w?" the relief of knowing that he no longer infested the neigh- borhood. " But when may he not return? " Elsie said with a shudder. " Papa, I tremble for you, and for Mr. Tra- Villa." "I am far more concerned for you," he answered, gazing upon her pale face with pitying, fatherly tender- ness. " But let us cast this care, with all others, upon our God. ' Thou wilt keep him in perfect peace whose mind is stayed on Thee ; because he trusteth in Thee.' " CHAPTER ELEVENTH. Of truth, he truly will all styles deserve Of wise, good, just ; a. man both soul and nerve." SHIRLEY. THE story reached Mr. Travilla's ears that evening, and finding he could be spared from the sick-room, h hastened to the Oaks. His emotions were too big for ut- terance as he took his "little friend" in his arms and clasped her to his beating heart. " God be thanked that you are safe ! " he said at last. " Oh, my darling, my darling, what peril you have been, in and how bravely you met it ! You are the heroine of the hour," he added with a faint laugh, " all, old and young, male and female, black and white, are loud in praise of your wonderful firmness and courage. And, my darling, I fully agree with them, and exult in the thought that this brave lady is mine own." He drew her closer as he spoke, and just touched his lips to the shining hair and the pure white forehead rest- ing on his breast. " Ah ! " she murmured low and softly, a dewy light shining in her eyes, " why should they think it anything wonderful or strange that I felt little dread or fear at the prospect of a sudden transit from earth to heaven a quick summons home to my Father's house on high, to be at once freed from sin and forever with the Lord ? I 109 no ELSIE'S WOMANHOOD. have a great deal to live for, life looks very bright and sweet to me \ yet but for you and papa, I think it would have mattered little to me had he carried out his threat." "My little friend, it would have broken my heart: to lose you were worse than a thousand deaths." They were alone in Elsie's boudoir, but when an hour had slipped rapidly away there came a message from Mr. Dinsmore to the effect that their company would be very acceptable in the library. * They repaired thither at once, and found him and Rose laying out plans for a summer trip. The matter was un- der discussion all the rest of the evening and for some days after, resulting finally in the getting up a large party of tourists, consisting of the entire families of the Oaks and Ion, with the addition of Harry and Sophie Car- rington, and Lora with her husband and children ; serv- ants of course included. They kept together for some time, visiting different poirjtiv interest in Virginia, Pennsylvania, and New York : spending several v <>eks at Cape May ; where they were joined by the Ali is-. < -f Philadelphia ; Mr. Edward and Adelaide among he i they having returned from Europe shortly before ), At length they separned, >c *e going in one direction, 'some in another. Loi wv to Louise, Rose to her father's, Mrs. and Mr. TiavilL o friends in Cincinnati and its suburbs, and Elsie to pay a long-promised visit to Lucy in her married home, a beautiful country-seat on the banks of the Hudson. Her father saw her safely there, then left her for a fortnight ; their fears in regard ELSIE'S WOMANHOOD. in to Jackson having been allayed by the news that he had been again arrested for burglary, and Lucy and her hus- band promising to guard their precious charge with jeal- ous care. At the end of the fortnight Mr. Dinsraore returned for his daughter, and they went on together to Lansdale to visit Miss Stanhope. Elsie had set her heart on having her dear old aunt spend the fall and winter with them in the "sunny South," and especially on her being present at the wed- ding ; and Miss Stanhope, after much urging and many protestations that she was tco old for such a journey, had at last yielded, and given her promise, on condition that her nephew and niece should come for her, and first spend a week or two in Lansdale. She entreated that Mr. Travilla and .his mother might be of the party. " He was a great favorite of hers, and she was sure his mother must be a woman in a thousand." They accepted the kindness as cordially as it was prof- fered ; met the others at the nearest point of connection, and all arrived together. It was not Lottie King who met them at the depot this time, but a fine-looking young man with black moustache and roguish dark eye, who introduced himself as Harry Duncan, Miss Stanhope's nephew. ''Almost a Cousin! Shall we consider you quite one? "asked Mrl Dinsmore, warmly shaking the hand held out to hi; in cordial greeting. "Thank you, I shall fee 1 highly h'onored," the young man answered in a gratified tone, and with a glance of undisguised admiration and a 'respectful bow directed to- 112 ELSIE'S WOMANHOOD. wards Elsie. Then turning with an almost reveven'_*a1 air and deeper bow to Mrs. Travilla, " And, madam, may I have the privilege of placing you alongside of my dear old aunt, and addressing you by the same title? " "You may, indeed," was the smiling rejoinder. "And my son here, I suppose, will take his place with the others as cousin. No doubt we are all related, if we could only go back far enough in tracing out our geneal- ogies." " To Father Adam, for instance," remarked Mr. Travilla, laughingly. " Or good old Noah, or even his son Japheth," re- joined Harry, leading the way to a family carriage suffi- ciently roomy to hold them all comfortably. " Your checks, if you please, aunt and cousins ; and Simon here will attend to your luggage. Servants' also." Elsie turned her head to see a young colored man, bowing, scraping, and grinning from ear to ear, in whom she perceived a faint resemblance to the lad Simon of four years ago. "You hain't forgot me, miss?" he said. "I'm still at de ole place wid Miss Wealthy." She gave him a smile and a nod, dropping a gold dollar into his hand along with her checks ; the gentle- men said, "How d'ye do," and were equally generous, and he went off chuckling. As they drew near their destination, a quaint little figure could be seen standing at the gate in the shade of a maple tree, whose leaves of mingled green and scarlet, just touched by the September frosts, made a brilliant contrast to the sober hue of her dress. ELSIE'S WOMANHOOD. 113 "There she is! our dear old auntie!" cried Elsie with eager delight, that brought a flush of pleasure to Harry's face. Miss Stanhope's greetings were characteristic. " Elsie ! my darling ! I have you again after all these years ! Mrs. Vanilla too ! how kind ! but you tell me your face is al- ways that. Horace, nephew, this is good of you ! And Mr. Torville, I'm as glad as the rest to see you. Come in, come in, all of you, and make yourselves at home." " Does Mrs. Schilling still live opposite to you, Aunt Wealthy ? " asked Elsie as they sat about the tea-table an hour later. " Yes, dearie ; though she's lost all commercial value," laughed the old lady ; " she's taken a second wife at last ; not Mr. Was though, but a newcomer, Mr. Smearer." "Dauber, auntie," corrected Harry, gravely. "Well, well, child, the meaning's about the same," returned Miss Stanhope, laughing afresh at her own mis- take, " and I'd as soon be the other as one." "Mrs. Dauber wouldn't though," said Harry. "I noticed her face grow as red as a beet the other day when you called her Mrs. Smearer." " She didn't mind being Mrs. Sixpence, I think/' said Elsie. " Oh yes, she did ; it nettled her a good deal at first^ but she finally got used to it ; after finding out how in- nocent auntie was, and how apt to miscall other names." "But I thought she would never be content with any- body but Mr. Wert." " Well, she lost all hope there, and dropped him at once as soon as Dauber made his appearance." 114 ELSfE'S WOMANHOOD. Mr. Dinsmore inquired about the Kings. Elsie had done so in a private chat with her aunt, held in her room directly after their arrival. "The doctor's as busy as ever, killing people all round the country; he's very successful at it," replied Miss Stanhope; " I've the utmost confidence in his skill." "You are a warm friend of his, I know, aunt," said Mr. Dinsmore, smiling, "but I would advise you not to try to assist his reputation among strangers." " Why not, nephew? " "Lest they should take your words literally, auntie." " Ah, yes, I must be careful how I use my stumbling tongue," she answered with a good-humored smile. "I ought to have always by, somebody to correct my blun- ders. I've asked Harry to do me that kindness, and he often does." "It is quite unnecessary with us ; for we all know what you intend to say," remarked Mrs. Travilla, cour- teously. "Thank you, dear madam," said Miss Stanhope; "I am not at all sensitive about it, fortunately, as my nephew knows, and my blunders afford as much amusement to any one else as to me; when I'm made aware of them." "Nettie King is married, papa," said Elsie. "Ah ! Lottie also?" " No, she's at home and will be in, with her father and mother, this evening," said Aunt Wealthy. "I've been matching to make a hope between her and Harry, but find it's quite useless." "No, we're the best of friends, but don'*, care to be ELSIE'S WOMANHOOD. HJ anything more," remarked the young gentleman, color- ing and laughing. " No," said Mr. Travilla, "it is said by some one that two people with hair and eyes of the same color should beware of choosing each other as partners for life." "And I believe it," returned Harry. "Lottie and I are too much alike in disposition. I must look for a blue-eyed, fair-haired maiden, whose mental and moral characteristics will supply the deficiencies in mine." " Gray eyes and brown ; that will do very well, won't it?" said the old lady absently, glancing from Elsie to Mr. Travilla and back again. Both smiled, and Elsie cast down her eyes with a lovely blush, while Mr. Travilla answered cheerily, " We think so, Miss Stanhope." " Call me Aunt Wealthy ; almost everybody does, and you might as well begin now as any time." " Thank you, I shall avail myself of the privilege in future." The weather was warm for the time of year, and on leaving the table the whole party repaired to the front porch, where Harry quickly provided every one with a seat. "That is a beautiful maple yonder," remarked Mr. Travilla. "Yes, sir," returned Harry; "we have a row of them all along the front of the lot; and as Mrs. Dauber says, they are 'perfectly gordeous ' in the fall." "The maple is my favorite among the shade leaves," remarked Miss Stanhope, joining in the talk, "from the time it trees out in the spring till the bare become n6 ELSIE'S WOMANHOOD. branches in the fall. Through this month and next they're a perpetual feast to the eye." " Aunt, how did you decide in regard to that invest- ment you wrote to consult me about? " asked Mr. Dins- more, turning to her. "Oh, I concluded to put in a few hundreds, as you thought it safe, on the principle of not having all my baskets in one egg." " Small baskets they would have to be, auntie," Harry remarked quietly. "Yes, my eggs are not so many, but quite enough for an old lady like me." As the evening shadows crept over the landscape the air began to be chilly, and our friends adjourned to the parlor. Here all was just as when Elsie last saw it ; neat as wax, everything in place, and each feather-stuffed cush- ion beaten up and carefuMy smoothed to the state of perfect roundness in whidi Miss Stanhope's soul de- lighted. Mrs. Travilla, who had heard descriptions of the room and its appointments from both her son and Elsie, iooked about her with interest : upon the old portraits,* the cabinet of curiosities, and the wonderful sampler, worked by Miss Wealthy's grandmother. She examined 1 with curiosity the rich embroidery of the chair cushions/: but preferred a seat upon the sofa. "Dr. and Mrs. King and Miss Lottie I" announced Simon's voice from the doorway, and the three en- tered. Lively, cordial greetings followed, especially on tha part ELSIE'S WOMANHOOD. 117 of the two young girls. Mrs. Travilla was introduced, and all settled themselves for a chat ; Lottie and Elsie, of course, managing to find seats side by side. " You dearest girl, you have only changed by growing more beautiful than ever," cried Lottie, squeezing Elsie's hand which she still held, and gazing admiringly into her face. Elsie laughed low and mus'cally. " Precisely what I was thinking of you, Lottie. It must be your own fault that you are still single. But we won't waste time in flattering each other, when we have so much to say that is better worth while." "No, surely; Aunt Wealthy has told me of your en- gagement. ' ' "That was right; it is no secret, and should not be from you if it were from others. Lottie, I want you to be one of my bridesmaids. We're going to carry Aunt Wealthy off to spend the winter with us, and I shall not be content unless I can do the same by you." "A winter in the ' sunny South ! ' and with you ; how delightful ! you dear, kind creature, to think of it, and to ask me. Ah, if I only could ! " "I think you can; though of course I know your father and mother must be consulted ; and if you come, you will grant my request?" " Yes, yes indeed ! gladly." Aunt Chloe, always making herself useful wherever she went, was passing around the room with a pile of plates, Phillis following with cakes and confections, while Simon brought in a waiter with saucers and spoons, and two large moulds of ice cream. i8 ELSIE'S WOMANHOOD. "Will you help the cream, Harry?" said Miss Stanhope. " There are two kinds, you see, tra villa and melon. Ask Mrs. Vanilla which she'll have; or if she'll take both." "Mrs. Travilla, may I have the pleasure of helping you to ice cream?" he asked. "There are two kinds, vanilla and lemon. Let me give you both." " If you please," she anr vered, with a slightly amused look ; for though Aunt Wealthy had spoken in ar under- tone, the words had reached her ear. "Which will you have, dearies?" said the old lady, drawing near the young girls' corner, " travilla cream or melon?" " Lemon for me, if you please, Aunt Wealthy," replied Lottie. "And I will take Travilla," Elsie said, low and mis- chievously, and with a merry twinkle in her eye. " But you have no cake 1 your plate is quite empty and useless," exclaimed the aunt. "Horace," turning towards her nephew, who was chatting with the doctor at the other side of the room, " some of this cake is very plain ; you don't object to Elsie eating a little of it?" "She is quite grown up now, aunt, and can judge for herself in such matters," he answered smiling, then turned to finish what he had been saying to the doctor. "You will have some then, dear, won't you?" Miss Stanhope inquired in her most coaxing tone. "A very small slice of this sponge cake, if you please, auntie." ELSIE'S WOMANHOOD. jig "How young Mr. Travilla looks," remarked Lottie, " younger I think, than he did four years ago. Happi- ness, I presume ; it's said to have that effect. J believe I was vexed when I first heard you were engaged to him, because I thought he was too old ; but really he doesn't look so; a man should be considerably older than his wife, that she may find it easier to look up to him ; and he know the better how to take care of her." " I would not have him a day younger, except that he would like to be nearer my age, or different in any way from what he is," Elsie said, her eyes involuntarily turn- ing in Mr. Travilla's direction. They met the ardent gaze of his. Both smiled, and rising he crossed the room and joined them. They had a half hour of lively chat together, then Mrs. King rose to take leave. Mr. Travilla moved away to speak to the doctor, and Lottie seized the opportunity to whisper to her friend, " He's just splendid, Elsie ! I don't wonder you look so happy, or that he secured your hand and heart after they had been refused to dukes and lords. You see Aunt Wealthy has been telling me all about your con- quests in Europe," she added, in answer to Elsie's look of surprise. "I am, indeed, very happy, Lottie," Elsie replied in the same low tone ; " I know Mr. Travilla so thoroughly, and have not more perfect confidence in papa's goodness and love to me, than in his. It is a very restful thing to have such a friend." Dr. King's circumstances had greatly improved in the last four years, so that he was quite able to give Lottie 120 ELSIE'S WOMANHOOD. the pleasure of accepting Elsie's invitation, and at once gave his cordial consent. Mrs. King at first objected that the two weeks of our friends' intended stay in Lansdale would not give sufficient time for the necessary additions to Lottie's wardrobe ; but this difficulty was overcome by a suggestion from Elsie. She would spend two or three weeks in Philadelphia, attending to the purchasing and making up of her trousseau, she said, and Lottie's dresses could be bought and made at the same time and place. The two weeks allotted to Lansdale of course passed very rapidly ; especially to Harry, to whom the society of these new-found relatives was a great pleasure, and who on their departure would be left behind, with only Phillis for his housekeeper. , The latter received so many charges from Aunt Wealthy in regard to careful attention to " Mr. Harry's " health and comfort, that at length she grew indignant, and protested that she loved "Mr. Harry as if he was her own child didn't she nuss him when he was a. little feller? and there was no 'casion for missus to worry an' fret as if she was leavin' him to a stranger." It was not for want of a cordial invitation to both the Oaks and Ion that Harry was left behind ; but business required his presence at home, and he could only promise himself a week's holiday at the time of the wedding c CHAPTER TWELFTH. Bring flowers, fresh flowers for the bride to wear; They were born to blush in her shining hair ; She's leaving the home of her childhood's mirth ; She hath bid farewell to her father's hearth ; Her place is now by another's side ; Bring flowers for the locks of the fair young bride." MRS. HEMANS. A FAIR October day is waning, and as the shadows deepen and the stars shine out here and there in the darkening sky, the grounds at the Oaks glitter with col ored lamps, swinging from the branches of the trees that shade the long green alleys, and dependent from arches wreathed with flowers. In doors and out everything wears a festive look ; almost the whole house is thrown open to the guests who will presently come thronging to i: from nearly every plantation for miles around. The grand wedding has been talked of, prepared for, and looked forward to for months past, and few, if any, favored with an invitation, will willingly stay away. The spacious entrance hall is brilliantly lighted, and on either hand wide-open doors give admission to long suites of richly, tastefully furnished rooms, beautiful with rare statuary, paintings, articles of vertu, and flowers scattered everywhere, in bouquets, wreaths, festoons, filling the air with their delicious fragrance. These apartments, waiting for the guests, are almost 121 122 ELSIE'S WOMANHOOD. entirely deserted ; but in Elsie's dressing-room a bevy of gay young girls, in white tarletan and with flowers in their elaborately dressed hair, are laughing and chatting merrily, and now and then offering a suggestion to Aunt Chloe and Dinah, whose busy hands are arranging their young mistress for her bridal. " Lovely ! " " Charming ! " '' Perfect ! " the girls exclaim in delighted, admiring chorus, as the tirewomen having completed their labors, Elsie stands before them in a dress of the richest white satin, with an overskirt of point lace, a veil of the same, enveloping her slender figure like an airy cloud, or morning mist, reaching from the freshly gathered orange blossoms wreathed in the shining hair to the tiny white satin slipper just peeping from beneath the rich folds of the dress. Flowers are her only ornament to-night, and truly she needs no other. "Perfect! nothing superfluous, nothing wanting," says Lottie King. Rose, looking almost like a young girl herself, so sweet and fair in her beautiful evening dress, came in at that instant to see if all was right in the bride's attire. Her eyes grew misty while she gazed, her heart swelling with a strange mixture of emotions : love, joy, pride, and a touch of sadness at the thought of the partial loss that night was to bring to her beloved husband and herself. "Am I all right, mamma?" asked Elsie. "I can see nothing amiss," Rose answered, with a slight tremble in her voice. " My darling, I never saw you so wondrously sweet and fair," she whispered, ad- justing a fold of the drapery. " You are very happy ? " ELSIE'S WOMANHOOD. 123 "Very, mamma dear; yet a trifle sad too. But that is a secret between you and me. How beautiful you are to-night." "Ah, dear child, quite ready, and the loveliest bride that ever I saw, from the sole of your head to the crown of your foot," said a silvery voice, as a quaint little figure came softly in and stood at Mrs. Dinsmore's side "no, I mean from the crown of your foot to the sole of your head. Ah, funerals are almost as sad as wed- dings. I don't know how people can ever feel like dan- cing at them." " Well, auntie dear, there'll be no dancing at mine," said Elsie, smiling slightly. * ' I must go and be ready to receive our guests, ' ' said Rose, hearing the rumble of carriage wheels. '.* Elsie, dear child," she whispered, " keep calm. You can have no doubts or fears in putting your future in " "No, no, mamma, not the slightest," and the fail face grew radiant. As Rose passed out at one door, Miss Stanhope follow- ing, with a parting injunction to the bride not to grow frightened or nervous, Mr. Dinsmore entered by another. He stood a moment silently gazing upon his lovely iaughter ; then a slight motion of his hand sent all oth- ys from the room, the bridesmaids passing into the aoudoir, where the groom and his attendants were al- ready assembled, the tirewomen vanishing by a door on ;he opposite side. "My darling!" murmured the father, in low, half tremulous accents, putting his arm about the slender vaist, "my beautiful darling! how can I give you to 124 ELSIE'S WOMANHOOD. another ? " and again and again his lips were pressed to hers in long, passionate kisses. "Papa, please don't make me cry," she pleaded, the soft eyes lifted to his, filled almost to overflowing. "No, no, I must not," he said, hastily taking out his handkerchief and wiping away the tears before they fell. " It is shamefully selfish in me to come and disturb your mind thus just now." "No, papa, no, no; I will not have you say that. Thank you for coming. It would have hurt me had you stayed away. But you would not have things different now if you could ? have no desire to." "No, daughter, no; yet, unreasonable as it is, the thought will come, bringing sadness with it, that to-night you resign my name, and my house ceases to be your only home." " Papa, I shall never resign the name dear to me be- cause inherited from you : I shall only add to it ; your house shall always be one of my dear homes, and I shall be your own, own daughter, your own child, as truly as I ever have been. Is it not so ? " " Yes, yes, my precious little comforter." "And you are not going to give me away ah, papa, I could never bear that any more than you; you are taking a partner in the concern," she added with playful tenderness, smiling archly through gathering tears. Again he wiped them hastily away. " Did ever father have such a dear daughter?" he said, gazing fondly down into the sweet face. " I ought to be the happiest of men. I believe I am " " Except one," exclaimed a joyous voice, at sound of ELSIE'S WOMANHOOD. 125 which Elsie's eyes brightened and the color deepened on her cheek. " May I come in ? " "Yes, Tra villa," said Mr. Dinsmore; "you have now an equal right with me." Travilla thought his was superior, or would be after the ceremony, but generously refrained from saying so. And had Mr. Dinsmore been questioned on the subject, he could not have asserted that it had ever occurred to him that Mr. Allison had an equal right with himself in Rose. But few people are entirely consistent. Mr. Travilla drew near the two, still standing together, and regarded his bride with a countenance beaming with love and delight. The sweet eyes sought his question- ingly, and meeting his ardent gaze the beautiful face sparkled all over with smiles and blushes. "Does my toilet please you, my friend?" she asked. "And you, papa?" "The general effect is charming," said Mr. Travilla; " but," he added, in low, tender tones saying far more than the words, "I've been able to see nothing else for the dear face that is always that to me." "I can see no flaw in face or attire," Mr. Dinsmore said, taking a more critical survey ; " you are altogether pleasing in your doting father's eyes, my darling. But you must not stand any longer. You will need all your strength for your journey." And he would have led her to a sofa. But she gently declined. "Ah, I am much too fine to sit down just now, my dear, kind father, I should crush my lace badly. So please let me stand. I am uot con- scious of weariness." S6 ELSIE'S WOMANHOOD. He yielded, saying with a smile, " That would be a pity ; for it is very beautiful. And surely you ought to be allowed your own way to-night if ever." "To-night and ever after," whispered the happy groom in the ear of his bride. A loving, trustful look was her only answer. A continued rolling of wheels without, and buzz of voices coming from veranda, hall, and reception rooms, could now be heard. "The house must be filling fast," said Mr. Dinsmore, "and as host I should be present to receive and welcome my guests, Travilla," and his voice trembled slightly, as he took Elsie's right hand and held it for a moment closely clasped in his ; "I do not fear to trust you with what to me is a greater treasure than all the gold of Cali- fornia. Cherish my darling as the apple of your eye ; I know you will." He bent down for another silent caress, laid the hand in that of his friend, and left the room. "And you do not fear to trust me, my little friend?" Tra villa's tones, too, were tremulous with deep feeling. " I have not the shadow of a fear," she answered, her eyes meeting his with an earnest, childlike confidence. " Bless you for those words, dearest," he said ; "God helping me you never shall have cause to regret them." A door opened, and a handsome, dark eyed boy, a miniature likeness of his father, came hurrying in. " Elsie I Papa said I might come and see how beautiful you are!" he cried, as if resolutely mastering some trong emotion, "but I'm not to say anything to make you cry. I'm not to hug you hard and spoil your dress. ELSIE'S WOMANHOOD. 127 Oh, but you do look like an angel, only without the wings. Mr. Travilla, you'll be good, good to her, won't you? " and the voice almost broke down. "I will, indeed, Horace; you may be sure of that. And you needn't feel as if you are losing her, she'll be back again in a few weeks, please God." "But not to live at home anymore!" he cried im- petuously. " No, no, I wasn't to say that, I " "Come here and kiss me, my dear little brother," Elsie said tenderly; "and you shall hug me, too, as hard as you like, before I go." He was not slow to accept the invitation, and evidently had a hard struggle with himself, to refrain from giving the forbidden hug. " You may hug me instead, Horace, if you like," said Mr. Travilla ; " you know we're very fond of each other, and are going to be brothers now." "Yes, that I will, for I do like you ever so much," cried the boy, springing into the arms held out to him, and receiving and returning a warm embrace, while the sister looked on with eyes glistening with pleasure. " Now, in a few minutes I'll become your brother Edward ; and that's what I want you to call me in future. Will you do it?" "Yes, sir; if papa doesn't forbid me." A light tap at the door leading into the boudoir, and Walter put in his head. "The company, the clergy- man, and the hour have come. Are the bride and groom ready?" " Yes." Releasing the child, Mr. Travilla drew Elsie's hand 128 ELSIE'S WOMANHOOD. within his arm. For an instant he bent his eyes with earnest, questioning gaze upon her face. It wore an ex- pression that touched him to the heart, so perfectly trust- ful, so calmly, peacefully happy, yet with a deep tender solemnity mingling with and subduing her joy. The soft eyes were misty with unshed tears as she lifted them to his. " It is for life," she whispered ; " and I am but young and foolish j shall you never regret ? " "Never, never; unless you grow weary of your choice." The answering smile was very sweet and confiding. *' I have not chosen lightly, and do not fear because it is for life," was its unspoken language. And truly it was no hasty, ill-considered step she was taking, but one that had been calmly, thoughtfully pon- dered in many an hour of solitude and communion with that unseen Friend whom from earliest youth she had acknowledged in all her ways, and who had, according to His promise, directed her paths. There was no ex^ citement, no nervous tremor, about her then or during the short ceremony that made them no more twain but one flesh. So absorbed was she in the importance and solemnity of the act she was performing, that little room was left for thought of anything else her personal ap- pearance, or the hundreds of pairs of eyes fixed upon her ; even her father's presence, and the emotions swell- Ing in his breast were for the time forgotten. Many marked the rapt expression of her face, and the clear and distinct though low tones of the sweet voice as she pledged herself to "love, honor, and obey." Mr. Tra ELSIE'S WOMANHOOD. lay villa's promise "to love, honor, and cherish to life's end," was given no less earnestly and emphatically. The deed was done and relatives and friends gath- ered about them with kindly salutations and good wishes. Mr. Dinsmore was the first to salute the bride. " God bless and keep you, my daughter," were his tenderly whispered words. " Dear, dear papa," was all she said in response, but her eyes spoke volumes. "I am yours still, your very own, and glad it is so," they said. Then came Rose with her tender, silent caress, half- sorrowful, half-joyful, and Mrs. Travilla with her alto- gether joyous salutation, " My dear daughter, may your cup of happiness be ever filled to overflowing; " while Mr. Dinsmore to hide his emotion turned jocosely to Travilla with a hearty shake of the hand, and " I wish you joy, my son." "Thank you, father," returned the groom gravely, but with a twinkle of merriment in his eye. Aunt Wealthy, standing close by awaiting her turn to greet the bride, shook her head at her nephew. "Ah, you are quite too old for that, Horace. Mr. Vanilla, I wish you joy ; but what am I to call you now ? " "Edward, if you please, Aunt Wealthy." "Ah, yes, that will do nicely; it's a good name so easily forgotten. Elsie, dearie, you went through it brave as a lion. May you never wish you'd lived your lane like your auld auntie." "As if single blessedness could ever be real blessed- ness ! " sneered Enna, coming up just in time to catch the last words. *y> ELSIE'S WOMANHOOD. "Out feelings change as we grow older," returned Miss Stanhope, in her gentle, refined tones, " and we coine to look upon quiet and freedom from care as very cesirable things." "And I venture to say that old age is not likely to f. nd Mrs. Percival so happy and contented as is my dear eld maiden aunt," remarked Mr. Dinsmore. " Yet we will hope it may, papa," said Elsie, receiv- ing Enna's salutation with kindly warmth. But the list of relatives, near connections, and intimate friends, is too long for particular mention of each. All the Dinsmores were there, both married and single; also most of the Allisons. Harold had not come with the others, nor had he either accepted or rejected the in- vitation. On first raising her eyes upon the conclusion of the ceremony, had Elsie really seen, far back in the shadow of the doorway, a face white, rigid, hopeless with misery as his when last they met and parted ? She could not tell ; for if really there, it vanished instantly. " Did Harold come? " she asked of Richard when he came to salute the bride and groom. " I think not ; I haven't seen him, I can't think what's come over the lad to be so neglectful of his privi- leges." Harry Duncan was there, too, hanging upon the smiles of merry, saucy, blue-eyed May Allison ; while her brother Richard seemed equally enamored with the brunette beauty and sprightliness of Lottie King. Stiffness and constraint found no place among the guests, after the event of the evening was over. ELSIE'S WOMANHOOD. 131 In the great dining-room a sumptuous banquet was laid ; and thither, after a time, guests and entertainers repaired. The table sparkled with cut-glass, rare and costly china, and solid silver and gold plate. Every delicacy from far and near was to be found upon it ; nothing wanting that the most fastidious could desire, or the most lavish ex- penditure furnish. Lovely, fragrant flowers were there also in the utmost profusion, decorating the board, fes- tooning the windows and doorways, in bouquets upon the mantels and antique stands, scattered here and there through the apartment, filling the air with their perfume ; while a distant and unseen band discoursed sweetest music in soft, delicious strains. The weather was warmer far than at that season in our northern clime, the outside air balmy and delightful, and through the wide-open doors and windows glimpses might be caught of the beautiful grounds, lighted here and there by a star-like lamp shining out among the foliage. Silent and deserted they had been all the earlier part of the evening, but now group after group, as they left the bountiful board, wandered into their green alleys and gay -parterres ; low, musical tones, light laughter, and merry jests floating out upon the quiet night air and waking the echoes of the hills. But the bride retired to her own apartments, where white satin, veil, and orange blossoms, were quickly ex- changed for an elegant traveling dress, scarcely less be- coming to her rare beauty. She reappeared in the library, which had not been thrown open to the guests, but where the relations and bridesmaids were gathered for the final good-bye. 133 ELSIE'S WOMANHOOD. Mr. Dinsmore's family carriage, roomy, easy-roiling, and softly cushioned, stood at the door upon the drive, its spirited gray horses pawing the ground with impatience to be gone. It would carry the bride and groom and a less pretentious vehicle their servants in two hours to the seaport where they were to take the steamer for New Orleans ; for their honeymoon was to be spent at Via- mede, Elsie still adhering to the plan of a year ago. Her adieus were gayly given to one and another, be- ginning with those least dear; very very affectionately to Mrs. Travilla, Aunt Wealthy, Rose, and the little Horace (the sleeping Rosebud had already been softly kissed in her crib). Her idolized father only remained ; and now all her gayety forsook her, all her calmness gave way, and clinging about his neck, "Papa, papa, oh papa!" she cried, with a burst of tears and sobs. " Holy and pure are the drops that fall, When the young bride goes from her father's hall ; She goes unto love yet untried and new She parts from love which hath still been true." It was his turn now to comfort her. "Darling daughter," he said, caressing her with exceeding tender- ness, "we do not part for long. Should it please God to spare our lives, I shall have my precious one in my arms in a few short weeks. Meantime we can have a little talk on paper every day. Shall we not? " " Yes, yes, dear, dear, precious father." Mr. Travilla stood by with a face full of compassionate tenderness. Putting one hand into her father's, Elsie ELSIE'S WOMANHOOD. 133 turned, gave him the other, and together they led her to the carriage and placed her in it. There was a hearty, lingering hand-shaking between the two gentlemen. Mr. Travilla took his seat by Elsie's side, and amid a chorus (of good-byes they were whirled rapidly away. "Cheer up, my dear," said Rose, leaning affection- ately on her husband's arm ; " it is altogether addition and not subtraction ; you have not lost a daughter but gained a son." "These rooms tell a different tale," he answered with a sigh. " How desolate they seem. But this is no time for the indulgence of sadness. We must return to our guests, and see that all goes merry as a marriage bell with them till the last has taken his departure." CHAPTER THIRTEENTH. " My bride, My wife, my life. O we will walk this world Yok'd in all exercise of noble aim And so through those dark gates across the wild That no man knows." TENNYSON'S PRINCESS. ELSIE'S tears were falling fast, but an arm as strong and kind as her father's stole quietly about her, a hand as gentle and tender as a woman's drew the weary head to a resting-place on her husband's shoulder, smoothed back the hair from the heated brow, and wiped away the falling drops. "My wife ! my own precious little wife ! " How the word, the tone, thrilled her ! her very heart leaped for joy through all the pain of parting from one scarcely less dear. "My husband," she murmured, low and shyly it seemed so strange to call him that, so al- most bold and forward " my dear, kind friend, to be neither hurt nor angry at my foolish weeping." "Not foolish, dear one, but perfectly natural and right. I understand it ; I who know so well what your father has been to you these many years." " Father and mother both." " Yes ; tutor, friend, companion, confidant, every- thing. I know, dear little wife, that you are sacrificing much for me, even though the separation will be bu* 134 , LSIE'S WOMANHOOD. t& partial. And how I love you for it, and for aJ you are to me, God only knows." The tears had ceased to flow; love, joy, and i ankful- ness were regairing their ascendancy in the heart of the youthful bride; she became again calmly, serenely happy. The journey was accomplished without accident. They were favored with warm, bright days, clear, starlit nights ; and on as lovely an afternoon as was ever known in that delicious clime, reached Viamede. Great preparations had been made for their reception; banners were streaming, and flags flying from balconies and tree-tops. Mr. Mason met them at the pier with a face beaming with ielight ; Spriggs with a stiff bow. A gun was fired and a drum began to beat as they stepped ashore ; two pretty mulatto girls scattered flowers in their path, and passing under a grand triumphal arch they presently found themselves between two long rows of smiling, bowing negroes, whose fervent ejaculations : " God bless our dear young missus an' her husband ! " "God bless you, massa an' missus!" "Welcome ' home ! " " Welcome to Viamede ! " " We've not for- got you, Miss Elsie ; you's as welcome as de daylight ! " (affected our tender-hearted heroine almost to tears. She had a kind word for each, remembering all their names, and inquiring after their "miseries " ; every one was permitted to take her small white hand, many ot them kissing it with fervent affection. They were intro- duced to their "new master," too (that was what she called him), and shaken hands with by him in a cordial, interested way that won their hearts at jT>,ce. 136 ELSIE'S WOMANHOOD. Aunt 1'hillis was in her glory, serving up a feast the preparation of which had exhausted the united skill of both A nt Sally and herself. Their efforts were duly appreciated and praised, the viands evidently greatly en- joyed, all to their intense delight. Mr. Mason was invited to partake vdth the bride and groom, and assigned the seat of honor at Mr. Trav ilia's right hand. Elsie presided over the tea-urn with the same gentle dignity and grace as wh<;n her father occu-' pied the chair at the opposite end of the table, now filled by her husband. Her traveling d|ress had been ex- changed for one of simple white, aad there were white flowers in her hair and at her throat. Very sweet and charming she looked, not only in the eyes of her hus- band, who seemed to find her fair face a perpetual feast, but in those of all others who saw her. On leaving the table they repaired to the library, where Mr. Mason gave a report of the condition of the people and his work among them, also assuring Mrs. Tra villa that Spriggs had carefully carried out her wishes, that the prospect for the crops was fine, and everything on the estate in excellent order. She expressed her gratification, appealing to Mr. Travilla for his approval, which was cordially given ; said she had brought a little gift for each of the people, and desired they should be sent up to the house about sunset the next evening to receive it. The chaplain promised that her order should be attended to, then retired, leaving husband and wife alone together. " All very satisfactory, my little friend, was it not? " said Mr. Travilla. ELSIE'S WOMANHOO&, 137 " Yes, sir, very. I'm so glad to have secured -such a man as Mr. Mason to look after the welfare of these poor helpless creatures. And you like the house, Mr. Travilla, do you not ? ' ' " Very much, so far as I have seen it. This is a beau- tiful room, and the dining-room pleased me equally well. '* "Ah, I am eager to show you all ! " she cried, rising ^quickly and laying her hand on the bell-rope. "Stay, little wife, not to-night," he said, "you are too much fatigued." She glided to the back of the easy chair in which he sat, and leaning over him, said laughingly, "I'm not conscious of being fatigued, but I have promised to obey and " "Hush, hush!" he said flushing, "I meant to have that left out ; and did I not tell you you were to have your own way that night and ever after ? You've al- ready done enough of obeying to last you a lifetime. But please come round where I can see you better." Then, as she stepped to his side, he threw an arm about her and drew her to his knee. " But it wasn't left out," she said, shyly returning his fond caress ; "I promised and must keep my word." " Ah, but if you can't, you can't; how will you obey when you get no orders? " " So you don't mean to give me any? " " No, indeed ; I'm your husband, your friend, you* protector, your lover, but not your master." "Now, Mr. Travilla " " I asked you to call me Edward." " But it seems so disrespectful." 138 ELSIE'S WOMANHOOD. " More so than to remind me of the disparity of our years ? or than to disregard my earnest wish ? Then I think I'll have to require the keeping of the promise in this one thing. Say Edward, little wife, and never again call me Mr. Travilla when we are alone." " Well, Edward, I will try to obey ; and if I use the wrong word through forgetfulness you must please excuse it. But ah, I remember papa would say that was no excuse." " But I shall not be so strict unless you forget too often. I have sometimes thought my friend too hard with his tender-hearted, sensitive little daughter." " Don't blame him my dear, dear father ! " she said, low and tremulously, her face growing grave and almost sad for the moment. " He was very strict, it is true, but none too strict in the matter of requiring prompt and implicit obedience, and oh, so kind, so loving, so tender, so sympathizing. I could, and did go to him with every little childish joy and sorrow, every trouble, vexation, and perplexity ; always sure of sympathy, and help, too, if needed. Never once did he repulse me, or show him- self an uninterested listener. " He would take me on his knee, hear all I had to say, claso me close to his heart, caress me, call me pet names, joy, sorrow with, or counsel me as the case re- quired, and bid me always come freely to him so, assur- ing me that nothing which concerned me, one way or an- other, was too trivial to interest him, and he would be glad to know I had not a thought or feeling concealed from him. I doubt if even you, my friend, have ever known all that papa has been and is to me : father, ELSIE'S WOMANHOOD. 139 mother, everything but husband," she added with a blush and smile, as her eyes met the kindly, tender look in his. "Ah, that is my blessed privilege," he whispered, drawing her closer to him. *' My wife, my own precious little wife ! God keep me from ever being less tender, loving, sympathizing to you than your father has been." " I do not fear it, my husband. Oh, was ever woman so blessed with love as I ! Daughter, and wife ! they are the sweetest of all names when addressed to me by papa's lips and yours." "I ought not to find fault with his training, seeing what credit you do it. However, you seemed to me as near perfection as possible before he began. Ah, my lit- tle friend, for how many years I loved you with scarcely a hope it would ever be returned in the way I wished. Indeed I can hardly yet believe fully in my own happi- ness," he concluded with a joyous laugh. The next day Elsie had the pleasure of showing her husband over the house first, and then the estate. Their life at Viamede, for the few weeks of their stay, seemed much like a repetition of her visit there the year before with her father. They took the same rides, walks and drives ; glided over the clear waters of the bayou in the same boat ; sought out each spot of beauty or interest he had shown her ; were, if possible, even more constantly to- gether, reading, writing, or engaged with music in library or drawing-room, seated side by side on veranda or lawn enjoying conversation, book or periodical ; or, it might be, silently musing, hand in hand, by the soft moonlight 240 ELSIE'S WOMANHOOD. that lent such a witchery to the lovely landscape. A pleasanter honeymoon could hardly have been devised. In one thing, however, they were disappointed : they had hoped to be left entirely to each other ; but it was impossible to conceal their presence at Viamede from the hospitable neighbors, and calls and invitations had to be received and returned. But, both being eminently fitted to shine in society, and each proud to display the other, this state of things did not, after all, so greatly interfere with their enjoyment. In fact, so delightful did they find their life in that lovely country that they lingered week after week till nearly six had slipped away, and letters from home be- gan to be urgent for their return. Mr. Dinsmore was wearying for his daughter, Mrs. Travilla for her son, and scarcely less for the daughter so long vainly hoped for. Every day a servant was despatched to the nearest post-office with their mail, generally returning as full handed as he went. Mr. Dinsmore's letters were, as he had promised, daily, and never left unanswered. The old love was not, could not be forgotten in the new. Elsie was no less a daughter because she had become a wife ; but Edward was always a sharer in her enjoyment, and she in .his. They were sitting on the veranda one morning when Uncle Ben rode up and handed the mail-box to his mas- ter. Mr. Travilla hastened to open it, gave Elsie her letters and began the perusal of his own. A softly breathed sigh called his attention to her. "What is it, little wife?" he asked; "your face is grave almost to sadness." ELSIE'S WOMANHOOD. 141 "I was thinking," she answered, with her eye still upon her father's letter open in her hand. " Papa says," and she read aloud from the sheet, " How long you are lingering in Viamede. When will you return ? Tell Travilla I am longing for a sight of the dear face his eyes are feasting upon, and he must remember his prom- se not to part us. " I am writing in your boudoir. I have been think- ing of the time (it seems but yesterday) when I had you .lere a little girl, sitting on my knee reciting your lessons or listening with almost rapt attention to my remarks and explanations. Never before had tutor so dear, sweet, and interesting a scholar ! " " A fond father's partiality," she remarked, looking up with a smile and blush. " But never, I am sure, was such another tutor ; his lucid explanations, intense in- terest in the subject and his pupil, apt illustrations, and fund of information constantly opened up to me, made my lessons a delight." " He has made you wonderfully well informed and thorough," said her husband. She colored with pleasure. " Such words are very sweet, coming from your lips. You appreciate papa." " Yes, indeed, and his daughter too, I hope," he answered, smiling fondly upon her. "Yes, your father and I have been like brothers since we were little fellows. It seems absurd to think of him in any other relation." "But what about going home? isn't it time, as papa thinks?" 142 ELSIE'S WOMANHOOD. "That you shall decide, ma chere ; our life here has been very delightful to me, and to you also, I hope." "Very, if we had your mother and papa and mamma and the children here, I should like to stay all winter. But as it is I think we ought to return soon." He assented, and after a little more consultation they decided ito go soon not later than the rm..~le of the next week, but the day was not set. CHAPTER FOURTEENTH. The low reeds bent by the streamlet's side, And hills to; ; r thunder peal replied ; The lightning 'burst on its fearful way While the heavens were lit in its red array." WILLIS GAYLORD CLARK. * Thither, full fraught with mischievous revenge Accurs'd, and in a cursed hour he hies." MILTON'S PARADISE LOST. THEY were alone that evening, and retired earlier than usual. They had been quietly sleeping for some time when Elsie was wakened by a sudden gust of wind that swept round the house, rattling doors and windows; then followed the roll and crash of thunder, peal on peal, accompanied with vivid flashes of lightning. Elsie was not timid in regard to thunder and lightning ; she knew so well that they were entirely under the con- trol of her Father, without whom not a hair of her head could perish ; she lay listening to the war of the elements, thinking of the words of the Psalmist, "The clouds poured out water : the skies sent out a sound ; Thine ar- rows also went abroad. The voice of Thy thunder was in the heaven ; the lightnings lightened the world, the earth trembled and shook." But another sound startled her. Surely she heard some stealthy step on the veranda upon which the win- 144 ELSIE'S WOMANHOOD. dows of the room opened (long windows reaching from the floor almost to the ceiling), and then a hand at work with the fastenings of the shutters of the one farthest from the bed. Her husband lay sleeping by her side. She half raised herself in the bed, put her lips to his ear, and shaking him slightly, whispered, "Edward, some one is trying to get in at the window ! " He was wide-awake in an instant, raised himself and while listening intently took a loaded revolver from un- der his pillow and cocked it ready for use. "Lie down, darling," he whispered; "it will be safer, and should the villain get in, this will soon settle him, I think." " Don't kill him, if you can save yourself without," she answered, in the same low tone and with a shudder. "No; if I could see, I should aim for his right arm." A moment of silent waiting, the slight sound of the burglar's tool faintly heard amid the noise of the storm, then the shutter flew open, a man stepped in ; at that in- stant a vivid flash of lightning showed the three to each other, and the men fired simultaneously. A heavy, rolling crash of thunder followed close upon 'the sharp crack of the revolvers; the robber's pistol fell with a loud thump upon the floor and he turned and fled along the veranda, this time moving with more haste than caution. They distinctly heard the flying footsteps. " I must have hit him," said Mr. Tra villa. " Dearest, you are not hurt ? ' ' "No, no; but you?" ELSIE'S WOMANHOOD. '45 "Have escaped also, thank God," he added, with earnest solemnity. Elsie, springing to the bell-rope, sent peal after peal resounding through the house. "He must be pursued, if possible ! " she cried; "for oh, Edward, your life is' in danger as long as he is at large. You recognized him?" " Yes, Tom Jackson ; I thought him safe in prison at the North ; but probably he has been bailed out ; per- haps by one of his own gang ; for so are the ends of justice often defeated." He was hurrying on his clothes as he spoke. Elsie had hastily donned dressing-gown and slippers, and now struck a light. Steps and voices were heard in the hall without, while Aunt Chloe coming in from the other side, asked in tones tremulous with affright, "What's de matter? what's de matter, darlin'? is you hurted? " " No, mammy ; but there was a burglar here a mo- ment since," said Elsie. "He and Mr. Tra villa fired at each other, and he must be pursued instantly. Send Uncle Joe to rouse Mr. Spriggs and the boys, and go after him with all speed." Meantime Mr. Mason was knocking at the door open- ing into the hall, asking what was wrong and offering his services; a number of negro men's voices adding, "Massa and missus, we's all heyah and ready to fight for ye." Mr. Travilla opened the door, briefly explained what had happened, and repeated Elsie's order for an imme- diate and hot pursuit. 146 ELSIE'S WOMANHOOD. " I myself will head it," he was adding, when she in- terposed. " No, no, no, my husband, surely you will not think of it ; he may kill you yet. Or he might return from another direction, and what could I do with only the women to help me? Oh, Edward, don't go! don't 'leave me ! " And she clung to him trembling and with tears in the soft, entreating eyes. " No, dearest, you are right. I will stay here to pro- tect you, and Spriggs may lead the boys," he answered, throwing an arm about her. " I think I wounded the fellow," he added to Mr. Mason. "Here, Aunt Chloe, bring the light nearer." Yes, there lay a heavy revolver, and beside it a pool of blood on the carpet where the villain had stood ; and there was a bloody trail all along the veranda where he had run, and on the railing and pillar by which he had swung himself to the ground ; indeed, they could track him by it for some distance over the lawn, where the trees kept the ground partially dry ; but beyond that the rain coming down in sheets, had helped the fugitive by washing away the telltale stains. Elsie shuddering and turning pale and faint at the horrible sight, ordered an immediate and thorough cleansing of both carpet and veranda. "Dere's hot water in de kitchen," said Aunt Phillis. " You, Sal an' Bet, hurry up yah wid a big basin full, an' soap an' sand an' house-cloths. Glad 'nuff dat massa shot dat ole debbil, but Miss Elsie's house not to be defiled wid his dirty blood." " Cold watah fust, Aunt Phillis," interposed Chloe^ ELSIE'S WOMANHOOD. 147 *co)d watah fust to take out blood -stain, den de hot after dat." "Mammy knows; do as she directs," said Elsie, hastily retreating into her dressing-room. " My darling, this has been too much for you," her husband said tenderly, helping her to lie down on a sofa. Chloe came hurrying in with a tumbler of cold water iu one hand, a bottle of smelling salts in the other, her dusky face full of concern. Mr. Travilla took the articles from her. "That is right, but I will attend to your mistress," he said in a kindly tone ; " and do you go and prepare a bed for her in one of the rooms on the other side of the hall." " It is hardly worth while, dear," said Elsie ; "I don't think I can sleep again to-night." "Yet perhaps you may; it is only two o'clock," he said, as the timepiece on the mantle struck the hour, " and at least you may rest a little better than you could here." "And perhaps you may sleep. Yes, mammy, get the bed ready as soon as you can." "My darling, how pale you are ! " Mr. Travilla said with concern, as he knelt by her side, applying the re- storatives. "Do not be alarmed; I am quite sure the man's right arm is disabled, and therefore the danger is past, for the present at least." She put her arm about his neck and relieved her full heart with a burst of tears. "Pray, praise," she whis- pered; "oh, thank the Lord for your narrow escape; the ball must have passed very near your head ; I heard it whiz over mine and strike the opposite wall." 148 ELSIE'S WOMANHOOD. " Yes, it just grazed my hair and carried away a lock, I think. Yes, let us thank the Lord." And he poured out a short but fervent thanksgiving, to every word of which her heart said "Amen ! " "Yes, there is a lock gone, sure enough," she said, stroking his hair caressingly as he bent over her. "Ah, if we had not lingered so long here, this would not have happened." "Not here, but elsewhere perhaps." "That is true, and no doubt all has been ordered for the best." Aunt Chloe presently returned, with the announcement that the bed was ready ; and they retired for the second time, leaving the house in the care of Uncle Joe and the women servants. It was some time before Elsie could compose herself to sleep, but near daybreak she fell into a deep slumber that lasted until long past the usual breakfast hour. Mr. Tra- villa slept late also, while the vigilant Aunts Chloe and Phillis and Uncle Joe took care that no noise should be made, no intruder allowed access to their vicinity to dis- turb them. The first news that greeted them on leaving their room, was of the failure of the pursuit after the burglar. He had managed to elude the search, and to their chagrin Spriggs and his party had been obliged to return empty- handed. The servants were the first to tell the tale, then Spriggs came in with a fuller report. "The scoundrel!" he growled; "how he contrived to do it I can't tell. If we'd had hounds, he couldn't. We've none on the place, but if you say so, I'll borrow " ELSIE'S WOMANHOOD. 149 "No, no ! Mr. Travilla, you will not allow it?'' cried Elsie, turning an entreating look upon him. " No, Spriggs, the man must be greatly weakened by the loss of blood, and, unable to defend himself, might be torn to pieces by them before you could prevent it." "Small loss to the rest of the world if he was," grumbled the overseer. " Yes, but I wouldn't have him die such a death as that ; or hurried into eternity without a moment for re- pentance." "But might it not be well to have another search?" suggested Elsie. " He had better be given up to justice, even for his own good, than die in the woods of weakness and starvation." " Hands are all so busy with the sugar-cane just now, ma'am, that I don't see how they could be spared," answered Spriggs. "And tell you what, ma'am " as if struck with a sudden thought " the rascal must have a confederate that's helped him off." "Most likely," said Mr. Travilla. "Indeed, I think it must be so. And you need give yourself no further inxiety about him, my dear." CHAPTER FIFTEENTH. Revenge at first though sweet, Bitter ere long, back on itself recoils." MILTON'S PARADISE LOST. \ AT the instant of discharging his revolver, Jackson felt a sharp stinging pain in his right arm, and it dropped useless at his side. He hoped he had killed both Mr. Travilla and Elsie; but, an arrant coward and thus dis- abled, did not dare to remain a moment to learn with certainty the effect of his shot, but rushing along the ve- randa, threw himself over the railing, and sliding down a pillar, by the aid of the one hand, and with no little pain and difficulty, made off with all speed across the lawn. But he was bleeding at so fearful a rate that he found himself compelled to pause long enough to improvise a tourniquet by knotting his handkerchief above the wound, tying it as tightly as he could with the left hand aided by his teeth. He stooped and felt on the ground in the darkness and rain, for a stick, by means of which to tighten it still more; for the bleeding, though con- siderably checked, was by no means stanched. But sticks, stones, and every kind of litter, had long been banished thence ; his ringers came in contact with noth- ing but the smooth, velvety turf, and with a muttered curse, he rose and fled again ; for the flashing of lights, the loud ringing of a bell, peal after peal, and sounds of 150 ELSIE'S WOMANHOOD. 151 fanning feet and many voices in high excited tones, told him there was danger of a quick and hot pursuit. Clearing the lawn, he presently struck into a bridle- path that led to the woods. Here he again paused to search for the much-needed stick, found one suited to his purpose, and by its aid succeeded in decreasing still more the drain upon his life current ; yet could not stop the flow entirely. But sounds of pursuit began to be heard in the dis- tance, and he hastened on again, panting with weakness, pain and affright. Leaving the path, he plunged deeper into the woods, ran for some distance along the edge of a swamp, and leaping in up to his knees in mud and water, doubled on his track, then turned again, and penetrating farther and farther into the depths of the morass, finally climbed a tree, groaning with the pain the effort cost him, and concealed himself among the branches. His pursuers came up to the spot where he had made his plunge into the water ; here they paused, evidently at fault. He could hear the sound of their footsteps and voices, and judge of their movements by the gleam of the torches many of them carried. Some now took one direction, some another, and he perceived with joy that his stratagem had been at least partially successful. One party, however, soon followed him into the swamp. He could hear Spriggs urging them on and anathematizing him as "a scoundrel, rob- ber, burglar, murderer, who ought to be swung up to the nearest tree." Every thicket was undergoing a thorough search, heads were thrown back and torches bjld high that eager 152 ELSIE'S WOMANHOOD. blacks eyes might scan the tree-tops, and Jackson began to grow sick with the almost certainty of being taken, as several stout negroes drew nearer and nearer his chosen hiding-place. He uttered a low, breathed imprecation upon his use- less right arm, and the man whose sure aim had made it so. "But for you," he muttered, grinding his teeth, "I'd sell my life dear." But the rain, which had slackened for a time, again poured down in torrents, the torches sputtered and went out, and the pursuers turned back in haste to gain the firmer soil, where less danger was to be apprehended from alligators, panthers, and poisonous reptiles. The search was kept up for some time longer, with no light but an occasional flash from the skies ; but finally abandoned, as we have seen. Jackson passed several hours most uncomfortably and painfully on his elevated perch, quaking with fear of both man and reptile, not daring to come down or to sleep in his precarious position, or able to do so for the pain of his wound, and growing hour by hour weaker from the bleeding which it was impossible to check en tirely. Then his mind was in a state of great disturbance^ His wound must be dressed, and that speedily ; yet how could it be accomplished without imperiling life and lib- erty? Perhaps he had now two new murders on his hands ; he did not know, but he had at least attempted to take life, and the story would fly on the wings of the wind ; such stories always did. He had been lurking about the neighborhood for days, ELSIE'S WOMANHOOD. 153 and had learned that Dr. Balis, an excellent physician and surgeon, lived on a plantation, some two or three miles eastward from Viamede. He must contrive a plausible story, and go to him ; at break of day, before the news of the attack on Viamede would be likely to reach him. It would be a risk, but what better could be done ? He might succeed in quieting the doctor's sus- picions, and yet make good his escape from the vicinity. The storm had spent itself before the break of day, and descending from his perch with the first faint rays of light that penetrated the gloomy recesses of the swamp, he made his way out of it, slowly and toilsomely, with weary, aching limbs, suffering intensely from the gnaw- ings of hunger and thirst, the pain of his injury, and the fear of being overtaken by the avengers of his inno- cent victims. Truly, as the Bible tells us, " the way of transgressors is hard." The sun was more than an hour high when Dr. Balis, ready to start upon his morning round, and pacing thoughtfully to and fro upon the veranda of his dwelling while waiting for his horse, saw a miserable looking object coming up the avenue : a man almost covered from head to foot with blood and mud ; a white handkerchief, also both bloody and muddy, knotted around the right arm, which hung apparently useless at his side. The man reeled as he walked, either from intoxication or weakness and fatigue. The doctor judged the latter, and called to a servant, "Nap, go and help that man into the office." Then hurrying thither himself, got out lint, bandages, instru- ments, whatever might be needed for the dressing of a 154 ELSIE'S WOMANHOOD. wound. With the assistance of Nap's strong arm, the man tottered in, then sank, half fainting, into a chair. " A glass ot wine, Nap, quick ! " cried the doctor, sprinkling some water in his patient's face, and applying ammonia to his nostrils. He revived sufficiently to swallow with eager avidky the wine Nap held to his lips. "Food, for the love of God," he gasped. "I'm starving ! " " Bread, meat, coffee, anything that is on the table, Nap," said his master; "and don't let the grass grow under your feet." Then to the stranger, and taking gentle hold of the wounded limb : " But you need this flow of blood stanched more than anything else. You came to *ne for surgical aid, of course. Pistol-shot wound, eh ? and a bad one at that." Yes, I " " Never mind ; I'll hear your story after your arm's dressed and you've had your breakfast. You haven't strength for talk just now." Dr. Balis had his own suspicions as he ripped up the coat sleeve, bared the swollen limb, and carefully dressed the wound ; but kept them to himself. The stranger's clothes, though much soiled and torn in several places by- contact with thorns and briers, were of good material, fashionable cut, and not old or worn ; his manners were gentlemanly, and his speech was that of an educated man. But all this was no proof that he was not a vil- lain. " Is that mortification?" asked the sufferer, looking ELSIE'S WOMANHOOD. 155 ruefully at the black, swollen hand and fore-arm, and wincing under the doctor's touch as he took up the artery and tied it. "No, no ; only the stagnation of the blood." " Will the limb ever be good for anything again ? " " Oh yes ; neither the bone nor nerve has suffered in- jury ; the ball has glanced from the bone, passed under the nerve, and cut the humeral artery. Your tourniquet has saved you from bleeding to death. 'Tis well you knew enough to apply it. The flesh is much torn where the ball passed out ; but that will heal in time." The doctor's task was done. Nap had set a plate of food within reach of the stranger's left hand, and he was devouring it like a hungry wolf. " Now, sir," said the good doctor, when the meal was finished, " I should like to hear how you came by that ugly wound. I can't deny that things look suspicious. I know everybody, high and low, rich and poor, for miles in every direction, and so need no proof that you do not belong to the neighborhood." " No ; a party of us, from New Orleans last, came out to visit this beautiful region. We were roaming through a forest yesterday, looking for game, when I somehow got separated from the rest, lost my way, darkness came on, and wondering hither and thither in the vain effort to find my comrades, tumbling over logs and fallen trees, scratched and torn by brambles, almost eaten up by mosquitos, I thought I was having a dreadful time of it. But worse was to come ; for I presently found myself in a swamp up to my knees in mud and water, and in the pitchy darkness tumbling over another fallen tree, struck I$6 ELSIE'S WOMANHOOD. my revolver, which I had foolishly been carrying in my coat pocket : it went off and shot me in the arm, as you see. That must have been early in the night ; and what with loss of blood, pain, fatigue, and long fasting, I had but little strength when daylight came and I could see to get out of swamp and woods, and come on here." The doctor listened in silence, his face telling nothing of his thoughts. " A bad business," he said, rising and beginning to draw on his gloves. " You are not fit to travel, but are welcome to stay here for the present ; had better lie down on the sofa there and take a nap while I am away visiting my patients. Nap, clean the mud and blood from the gentleman's clothes ; take his boots out and clean them too; and see that he doesn't want for attention while I am gone. Good -morning, sir; make yourself at home." And the doctor walked out, giving Nap a slight sign to follow him. " Nap," he said, when they were out of ear-shot of the stranger, " watch that man and keep him here if possible, till I come back." "Yes, sah." Nap went back into the office while the doctor mounted and rode away. "Humph," he said, half aloud, as he cantered briskly along, "took me for a fool, did he? thought I couldn't tell where the shot went in and where it came out, or where it would go in or out if caused in that way. No, sir, you never gave yourself that wound ; but the ques- tion is who did ? and what for ? have you been house- breaking or some other mischief? " Dr. Balis was travel- ELSIE'S WOMANHOOD. 157 ing in the direction of Viamede, intending to call there too, but having several patients to visit on the way, did not arrive until the late breakfast of its master and mis- tress was over. They were seated together on the veranda, her hand; in his, the other arm thrown lightly about her waist, talk- ing earnestly, and so engrossed with each other and the subject of their conversation, that they did not at first ob- serve the doctor's approach. Uncle Joe was at work on the lawn, clearing away the leaves and twigs blown down by the storm. " Mornin', Massa Doctah ; did you heyah de news, sah?" he said, pulling off his hat and making a pro- found obeisance, as he stepped forward to take the vis- itor's horse. " No, uncle, what is it ? " "Burglah, sir, burglah broke in de house las' night, an' fire he revolvah at massa an' Miss Elsie. Miss dem, dough, an' got shot hisself." " Possible ! " cried the doctor in great excitement, springing from the saddle and hurrying up the steps of the veranda. "Ah, doctor, good-morning. Glad to see you, sir," said Mr. Travilla, rising to give the physician a hearty shake of the hand. " Thank you, sir. How are you after your fright ? Mrs. Travilla, you are looking a little pale; and no wonder. Uncle Joe tells me you had a visit from a burglar last night?" "A murderer, sir ; one whose object was to take my husband's life," Elsie answered with a shudder, and in 158 ELSIE'S WOMANHOOD. low, tremulous tones, leaning on Edward's arm and gaz- ing into his face with eyes swimming with tears of love and gratitude. " My wife's also, I fear," Mr. Travilla said with emo- tion, fondly stroking her sunny hair. "Indeed ! why this is worse and worse ! But he did not succeed in wounding either of you?" "No; his ball passed over our heads, grazing mine so closely as to cut off a lock of my hair. But I wounded him, must have cut an artery, I think, from the bloody trail he left behind him." "An artery?" cried the doctor, growing more and more excited; "where? do you know where your ball struck?" " A flash of lightning showed us to each other and we fired simultaneously, I aiming for his right arm. I do not often miss my aim : we heard his revolver fall to the floor and he fled instantly, leaving it and a trail of blood before him." " You had him pursued promptly, of course ? " "Yes; but they did not find him. I expected to see them return with his corpse, thinking he must bleed to death in a very short time. But I presume he had an accomplice who was able to stanch the flow of blood and carry him away." " No, I don't think he had ; and if I'm not greatly mistaken I dressed his wound in my office this morning, and left him there in charge of my boy Nap, bidding him keep the fellow there, if possible, till I came back. I'd better return at once, lest he should make his escape. Do you know the man? and can you describe him?" ELSIE'S WOMANHOOD. 159 "I do; I can," replied Mr. Travilla. " But, my lit- tle wife, how you are trembling ! Sit down here, dearest, and lean on me," leading her to a sofa. " And doctor, take that chair. "The man's name is Tom Jackson; he is a noted gambler and forger, has been convicted of manslaughter and other crimes, sent to the penitentiary and pardoned out. He hates me because I have exposed his evil deeds, and prevented the carrying out of some of his wicked designs. He has before this threatened both our lives. He is about your height and build, doctor ; can assume the manners and speech of a gentleman ; has dark hair, eyes, and whiskers, regular features, and but for a sinister look would be very handsome." "It's he and no mistake! " cried Dr. Balis, rising in haste. " I must hurry home and prevent his escape. Why, it's really dangerous to have him at large. If he wasn't so disabled I'd tremble for the lives of my wife and children. " He trumped up a story to tell me had his revolver in his coat pocket, set it off in tumbling over a log in the dark, and so shot himself. Of course I knew 'twas a lie, because in that case the ball would have entered from below, at the back of the arm, and come out above, while the reverse was the case." "But how could you tell where it entered or where it passed out, doctor? " inquired Elsie. "How, Mrs. Travilla? Why, where it goes in it makes merely a small hole ; you see nothing but a blue mark ; but a much larger opening in passing out, often tearing the flesh a good deal ; as in this case. 160 ELSIE'S WOMANHOOD. 11 Ah, either he was a fool or thought I was. But good-bye. I shall gallop home as fast as possible and send back word whether I find him there or not." "Don't take the trouble, doctor," said Mr. Travilla; "we will mount and follow you at once, to identify him if he is to be found. Shall we not, wife? " "If you say so, Edward, and are quite sure he can- not harm you now ? " "No danger, Mrs. Travilla," cried the doctor, look- ing back as he rode off. CHAPTER SIXTEENTH. Oft those whose cruelty makes many mourn Do by the fires which they first kindle burn." EARL OF STIRLING. * * As crimes do grow, justice should rouse itself." JOHNSON'S CATILINE. JACKSON thought he read suspicion in the doctor's eye as the latter left the office ; also he felt sure the physician would not ride far before hearing of the attack on Via- mede, and would speedily come at the truth by putting that and that together ; perhaps return with a party of avengers, and hang him to a tree in the adjacent forest. "I must get out o' this before I'm an hour older," said the scoundrel to himself. " Oh, for the strength I had yesterday ! " "Why don't you lie down, sah, as Massa Doctah tole ye?" asked Nap, returning. "Massa always 'spects folks to do prezactly as he tells dem." "Why, Sambo, I'm too dirty to lie on that nice sofa," replied Jackson, glancing down at his soiled garments. "Sambo's not my name, sah," said the negro, draw- ing himself up with dignity; "I'se Napoleon Boning- party George Washington Marquis de Lafayette, an' dey calls me Nap for short. If ye'll take off dat coat, sah, an' dem boots, I'll take 'em out to de kitchen yard an 1 clean 'em." 161 162 ELSIE'S WOMANHOOD. " Thank you ; if you will I'll give you a dollar. And if you'll brush the mud from my pants first, I'll try the sofa; for I'm nearly dead for sleep and rest/' "All right, sah," and Nap went to a closet, brought out a whisk, and using it vigorously upon the pantaloons, soon brushed away the mud, which the sun had made very dry. A few blood stains were left, but there was no help for that at present. The coat was taken off with some difficulty on account of the wounded arm, then the boots, and Jackson laid himself down on the sofa and closed his eyes. Nap threw the coat over his arm, and taking the boots in the other hand went softly out, closing the door behind him. " Safe 'miff now, I reckon," he chuckled to him- self; "guess he not trabble far widout dese." He was hardly gone, however, when Jackson roused himself and forced his weary eyes to unclose. " As dangerous as to go to sleep when freezing," he muttered. He rose, stepped to the closet door, and opened it. A pair of boots stood on the floor, a coat hung on a peg. He helped himself to both, sat down and drew on the boots, which were a little too large but went on all the more readily for that. Now for the coat. It was not new, but by no means shabby. He took out his knife, hastily ripped up the right sleeve and put it on. It fitted even better than the boots. Nap had brought a bottle of wine and left it on the office table, forgetting to carry it back to the dining- room. Jackson took it up, and placing it to his mouth drained the last drop. Then putting on his hat, he stole softly from the house and down the avenue. ELSIE'S WOMANHOOD. 163 To his great joy a boat was just passing in the direc- tion to take him farther from Viamede. He signaled it, and was taken aboard. -'Been getting Dr. Balis to patch up a wound, eh, stranger?" said the skipper, glancing at the disabled arm. "Yes; " and Jackson repeated the story already told to the surgeon. The skipper sympathized and advised a rest in the cabin. "Thank you," said Jackson; "but I'm only going a few miles, when I'll reach a point where, by taking to the woods again, I'll be likely to find my friends ; who are doubtless anxious to know what has become of me." " Very well, sir, when we come to the right place, just let us know and we'll put you off." Evidently the skipper had heard nothing to arouse his suspicions. Jackson was landed at the spot he pointed out a lonely one on the edge of a forest, without ques- tion or demur, and the boat went on its way. He watched it till it disappeared from view, then plunging into the woods, presently found a narrow foot- path, pursuing which for an hour or so he came out into a small clearing. At the farther side, built just on the edge of the forest, was a rude log cabin. A slatternly woman stood in the open doorway. "So ye did get back at last?" she remarked, as he drew near. "I'd most give ye up. What ails your arm now? " He briefly repeated his story to the doctor and skip- per ; then asked hurriedly, " Is my horse all right ? " 1 64 ELSIE'S WOMANHOOD. The woman nodded. "I've tuck good care on her. Now where's the gold ye promised me ? " " Here," he said, taking out, and holding up before her delighted eyes, several shining half-eagles; "have my horse saddled and bridled and brought round to the door here as quickly as possible, and these are yours." "I'll do it. Bill," to a half-grown youth who sat on a rude bench within lazily smoking a pipe "run and fetch the gentleman's hoss. But what's yer hurry, mister?" "This," he answered, pointing to the disabled limb; "it's growing worse, and I'm in haste to get home, where I can be nursed by mother and sisters, before I quite give out. ' ' " She's a awful sperited cratur, and you'll have a hard job o' it to manage her, with one hand." " I must try it, nevertheless ; I believe I can do it too; for she knows her master." "She'll go like lightnin'," said the boy, as he brought the animal to the door; "she's been so long in the stable, she's as wild and scary as a bird." Jackson threw the gold into the woman's lap, turned about and taking the bridle from the boy, stroked, patted, and talked soothingly to the excited steed, who was snort- ing and pawing the ground in a way that boded danger to any one attempting to mount. His caresses and kindly tones seemed, however, to have a calming effect ; she grew comparatively quiet, he sprang into the saddle and was off like an arrow from the bow. ELSIE'S WOMANHOOD. 165 It was about that time the doctor returned to his office to find it deserted. Nap was summoned. " What's become of the man I left here in your charge, sirrah ? " asked the doctor sternly. " Dunno, sah, Massa Doctah," answered Nap, glan- cing in astonishment from side to side. " To't he heyah, sah ; 'deed I did. Took he coat an' boots to clean 'em; to't he safe till I fotch 'em back ; wouldn't go off without dem." The doctor stepped to the closet. " Yes, my coat and boots gone, bottle of wine emptied, no fee for profes- sional aid a fine day's work for me." " Massa Doctah ! you don't say de rascal done stole yer coat an' boots? Oh, ef I cotch him, I " and Napoleon Bonaparte George Washington Marquis de Lafayette looked unutterable things. "Better take care I don't get hold of you ! " cried the irate master. "Go and tell Cato to saddle and bridle Selim and bring him to the door as quickly as pos- sible ; and do you find out if anybody saw which way the rascal went. He must be caught, for he's a burglar and murderer ! " Nap lifted his hands and opened mouth and eyes wide in surprise and horror. " Begone ! " cried the doctor, stamping his foot, " and don't stand gaping there while the scoundrel escapes." Nap shuffled out, leaving his master pacing the office to and fro with angry, impatient strides. "What is it, my dear? what has gone wrong? " asked his wife, looking in upon him. " Come, sit down on the sofa here and I'll tell you/' 166 ELSIE'S WOMANHOOD. he said, his excited manner quieting somewhat at sight of her pleasant face. She accepted the invitation, and seating himself beside her he briefly related all that he knew of Jackson and his attack on Mr. Travilla. He had hardly finished when Nap returned with the news that several of the negro children had seen a man go down the avenue and get aboard a passing boat. "Ah ha!" cried the doctor, jumping up; "and which way was the boat going ? " " Dat way, sah," replied Nap, indicating the direction by a flourish of his right hand. At that moment Mr. and Mrs. Travilla rode up, and Dr. and Mrs. Balis hastened out to greet them. " He's gone; took the morning boat," cried the doctor. " Good ! " said Mr. Travilla, " we have only to head him with a telegram, and he'll be arrested on stepping ashore ; or on board the boat." " Unless he should land in the next town, Madison, which the boat, having a good hour's start of us, would reach before the swiftest messenger we could send ; probably has already reached." J " Then the best plan will be for me to ride on to Mad- ison, give notice to the authorities, have it ascertained whether our man has landed there, and if not telegraph to the next town and have them ready to board the boat, with a warrant for his arrest, as soon as it arrives." " Yes ; and I'll mount Selim and go with you," answered the doctor. " I probably know the road better than you do. And our wives may keep each other conv pany till we return." ERIE'S WOMANHOOD. 167 "What do you say, Elsie?" asked Mr. Travilla. " That I will go or stay as you think best." "We must ride very fast ; I think it would fatigue you too much ; so advise you to stay with Mrs. Balis, and I will call for you on my return." " Do, Mrs. Travilla ! I should be delighted to have you," urged Mrs. Balis; "and you can tell me all about last night. What a trial to your nerves ! I don't wonder you are looking a little pale this morn- ing." "Thank you, I will stay," said Elsie; and instantly her husband, giving his horse into Nap's charge for a moment, sprang to the ground and lifted her from the saddle. " Don't be anxious, little wife," he whispered, as the soft eyes met his with a fond wistful look, " I am not likely to be in danger, and you know the sweet words, ' Not a hair of your head shall fall to the ground without your Father.' " "Yes, yes, I know, and will trust you in His hands, my dear husband," was the low-breathed response. Another moment and the two gentlemen were gallop- ing rapidly down the avenue side by side. The ladies stood on the veranda, watching till they were out of sight, then went into the house. " Now, my dear Mrs. Travilla, shall I just treat you as one of ourselves, and take you into my own breezy room?" asked Mrs. Balis, regarding Elsie with an affec- tionate, admiring look. "It is just what I should like, Mrs. Balis," Elsie ?n. swered, with a smile so sweet that her hostess put he*- arm about her and kissed her. ELSIE'S WOMANHOOD. " I can't help it," she said ; " you take my heart by storm with your beauty, grace, and sweetness." "Thank you, and you need not apologize," Elsie said, returning the embrace; "love is too precious a gift to be rejected." " I think Mr. Tra villa a very fortunate man, and so does my husband." " And am not I a fortunate woman, too ? " "Ah, yes, Mr. Travilla is most agreeable and enter- taining, handsome too ; and indeed I should think every- thing one could wish in a husband; as mine is," she added laughingly. " I presume neither of us would con- sent to an exchange of partners. Are you fond of chil- dren, Mrs. Travilla?" "Very." "Shall I show you mine? " "I should like to see them, if you please." Mrs. Balis at once led the way to the nursery, where she exhibited, with much motherly pride and delight, her three darlings ; the eldest five, the second three years of age, the third a babe in the arms. They were bright- eyed, rosy-cheeked children, full of life and health, but to Elsie's taste not half so sweet and pretty as Rose- bud. Mrs. Balis next conducted her guest to her boudoir ; a servant brought in refreshments, consisting of a variety of fruits, cakes, and confections, with wine sangaree and lemonade. After partaking of these, the ladies had a long talk while awaiting the return of their husbands. The gentlemen were gone much longer than had been anticipated, and I am not sure the wives did not grogf r t ELSIE'S WOMANHOOD. 169 little uneasy. At all events they left the boudoir for the front veranda, which gave them a view of the avenue and some hundred yards of the road beyond in the di- rection from which the travelers must come. And when at length the two were descried approaching, in a more leisurely manner than they went, there was a simulta- neous and relieved exclamation, " Oh, there they are at last." The ladies stood up and waved their handkerchiefs. There was no response; the gentlemen's faces were towards each other and they seemed to be engaged in earnest converse. "Unsuccessful," said Mrs. Balis. " How do you know ? " asked Elsie. " There's an air of dejection about them." " I don't see it," returned Elsie, smiling. " They seem to me only too busy talking to notice our little at- tention." But Mrs. Balis was correct in her conjecture. The boat had passed Madison some time before the gentlemen arrived there, had paused but a few minutes and landed no such passenger. Learning this they then telegraphed the authorities of the next town ; waited some hours, and .received a return telegram to the effect that the boat had "been boarded, no person answering the description found ; but the captain gave the information that such a man had been taken on board at Dr. Balis' plantation, and set ashore at the edge of a forest half-way between that place and Madison. On receiving this intelligence Mr. Travilla and the doctor started for home, bringing with them a posse of I/O ELSIE'S WOMANHOOD. mounted men headed by some of the police of Madi- son. Dr. Balis had taken with him to Madison the blood., stained coat of Jackson. From this the hounds took the scent, and on arriving at the wood mentioned by the skipper, soon found the trail and set off in hot pursuit, the horsemen following close at their heels. Our gentlemen did not join in the chase, but having seen it well begun, continued on their homeward way. "And you did consent to the use of hounds? " Elsie said inquiringly, and with a slightly reproachful look at her husband. "My dear," he answered gently, "having been put into the hands of the police it has now become a com- monwealth case, and I have no authority to dictate their mode of procedure." " Forgive me, dearest, if I seemed to reproach you," she whispered, the sweet eyes seeking his with a loving, repentant look, as for a moment they were left alone to- gether. He drew her to him with a fond caress. " My dar- ling, I have nothing to forgive." In the cabin at whose door Jackson had made his call and remounted his steed, a woman the same with whom his business had been transacted was stooping over an open fire, frying fat pork and baking hoe-cake. Bill sat on his bench smoking as before, while several tow-headed children romped and quarreled, chasing each other round and round the room with shouts of " You quit that ere 1 " " Mammy, I say, make her stop." ELSIE'S WOMANHOOD. 171 " Hush ! " cried the woman, suddenly straightening herself, and standing in a listening attitude, as a deep sound came to the ear, borne on the evening breeze. "Hounds! bloodhounds!" cried Bill, springing to his feet with unwonted energy. "And they're a-comirf this way; makin' straight for the house," he added^ glancing from the door, then shutting it with a bang. " They're after that man ; you may depend. He's 9 'balitionist, or a horse thief, or somethin'." ') The children crouched, silent, pale, and terror- stricken, in a corner, while outside, the deep baying of the hounds drew nearer and nearer, and mingling with it came other sounds of horses' hoofs and the gruff voices of men. Then a loud " Halloo the house ! " " What's wanted ?" asked Bill, opening the one win- dow and putting out his head. "The burglar you're hiding from justice and the hounds have tracked to your door. A fellow with his right arm disabled by a pistol-shot." " He isn't here, didn't step inside at all ; don't ye see the hounds are turning away from the door ? But you kin come in an' look for yourself." One of the men dismounted and went in. "Look round sharp now," said the woman. "I only wish he was here fur ye to ketch um : if I'd know'd he was a burglar, he would never hev got off so easy. He jest come for his beast that he left with us four days ago, and mounted there at the door and was off like a shot." " Which way? " asked the man. She pointed in a southerly direction. " It's the way to Texas, ain't it? an' he's got four or five hours the 172 ELSIE'S WOMANHOOD. start o' ye, an' on a swift horse ; he'll be over the border line afore ye kin ketch up to him." "I'm afraid so, indeed; but justice can follow him even there," replied the officer, hastening out, already satisfied that the one bare room did not contain his quarry. He sprang into the saddle, and the whole party gal- loped away in the wake of the dogs, who had found the trail again and started off in full cry. The party had a hard ride of some hours, the hounds never faltering or losing the scent ; but at length they were at fault. They had reached a brook and here the trail was lost ; it was sought for on both sides of the stream for a considerable distance both up and down, then abandoned in despair. The wily burglar had made his steed travel the bed of the stream, which was nowhere very deep, for several miles ; then taking to the open country again and travel- ing under cover of the darkness of a cloudy night, at length, in a condition of utter exhaustion, reached a place of safety among some of his confederates ; for he had joined himself to a gang of villains who infested that part of the country. But "Though hand join in hand, the wicked shall not be unpunished." Few if any of them would escape a violent and terrible death at the last; and "after that the judgment " ; from which none may be excused. CHAPTER SEVENTEENTH. His house she enters, there to be a light Shining within, when all without is night ; A guardian angel o'er his life presiding, Doubling his pleasure, and his cares dividing." ROGERS' HUMAN LIFE. Ax the set time our friends turned their faces home- ward, leaving their loving dependents of Viamede all drowned in tears. In the six weeks of their stay, "Massa" an' "Missus" had become very dear to those warm, childlike hearts. Elsie could not refrain from letting fall some bright sympathetic drops, though the next moment her heart bounded with joy at the thought of home and father. The yearning to hear again the tones of his loved voice, to feel the clasp of his arm and the touch of his lip upon brow and cheek and lip, increased with every hour of the rapid journey. Its last stage was taken in the Ion family carriage, which was found waiting for them at the depot. Elsie was hiding in her own breast a longing desire to go first to the Oaks, chiding herself for the wish, since her husband was doubtless fully as anxious to see his mother, and wondering why she had not thought of ask- ing for a gathering of both families at the one place or the other. They had left the noisy city far behind, and were 174 ELSIE'S WOMANHOOD. bowling smooth 1 along a very pleasant part of the road> bordered with gieensward and shaded on either side by noble forest trees ; she with her mind filled with these musings, sitting silent and pensive, gazing dreamily from the window. Suddenly her eyes encountered a well-known noble form, seated on a beautiful spirited horse, which he was holding in wkh a strong and resolute hand. "Papa ! " she exclaimed, with a joyous, ringing cry; and instantly he had dismounted, his servant taking Selim's bridle-reins, the carriage had stopped, and spring- ing out she was in his arms. "My dear father, I was so hungry to see you," she said, almost crying for joy. "How good of you to come to meet us, and so much nicer here than in the crowded depot." "Good of me," he answered, with a happy laugh. " Of course, as I was in no haste to have my darling in my arms. Ah, Travilla, my old friend, I am very glad to see your pleasant face again." And he shook hands warmly. "Many thanks to you (and to a higher power)," he added reverently, "for bringing her safely back to me. She seems to have been well taken care of; plump and bright and rosy." . "I have been, papa ; even you could not be more tender and careful of me than my husband is." Her father smiled at the shy, half-hesitating way in which the last word slipped from the rich red lips, and/ the tender, loving light in the soft eyes as they met thfc fond, admiring gaze of Travilla's. "No repentance on either side yet, I see," he said ELSIE'S WOMANHOOD. 175 laughingly. "Travilla, your mother is in excellent health and spirits ; but impatient to embrace both son and daughter, she bade me say. We all take tea by in- vitation at Ion to-day ; that is, we of the Oaks, including- Aunt Wealthy and Miss King." " Oh, how nice ! how kind 1 " cried Elsie. " And to-morrow you are all to be at the Oaks ! " added her father. "Now shall I ride beside your car- riage? or take a seat in it with you? " "The latter, by all means," answered Travilla, Elsie's sparkling eyes saying the same, even more em- phatically. "Take Selim home, and see that both he and the family carriage are at Ion by nine this evening," was Mr. Dinsmore's order to his servant. "Ah, papa! so early!" Elsie interposed, in a tone that was half reproach, half entreaty. "We must not keep you up late arter your journey, my child," he answered, following her into the carriage, Mr. Travilla stepping in after. "The seats are meant for three; let me sit between you, please," requested Elsie. "But are you not afraid of crushing your dress?" asked her father jocosely, making room for her by his side. "Not I," she answered gayly, slipping into her chosen place with a light, joyous laugh, and giving a hand to each. " Now I'm the happiest woman in the world." "As you deserve to be," whispered her husband, clasping tight the hand he held. 176 ELSIE'S WOMANHOOD. " Oh, you flatterer ! " she returned. " Papa, did you miss me?" "Every day, every hour. Did I not tell you so in my letters ? And you ? did you think often of me?" "Oftener than I can tell." "I have been wondering," he said, looking gravely into her eyes, ' ' why you both so carefully avoided the slightest allusion to that most exciting episode of your stay at Viamede." Elsie blushed. "We lid not wish to make you un- easy, papa." " Of course, you must have seen a newspaper ac- count?" observed Mr. Tra villa. " Yes ; and now suppose you let me hear your report. Did the villain's shot graze Elsie's forehead and carry a tress of her beauti il hair? " " No, no, it w s only a lock of her unworthy hus band's hair a much slighter loss," Travilla said, laughing. " But perhaps the reporter would justify his misrepresentation on the. plea that man and wife ar? one." " Possibly. And did your shot shatter the bone in the rascal's arm? " "No; Dr. Balis told me the ball glanced from the bone, passed under the nerve and severed the humeral artery." " It's a wonder he didn't bleed to death." "Yes; but it seems he had sufficient knowledge and presence of mind to improvise a tourniquet with his handkerchief and a stick." ELSIE'S WOMANHOOD. 177 "What rooms were you occupying?" asked Mr. Dinsmore. "Come, just tell me the whole story as if I had heard nothing of it before." Travilla complied, occasionally appealing to Elsie to assist his memory ; and they had hardly done with the subject when the carriage turned into the avenue at Ion. "My darling, welcome to your home," said Travilla low and tenderly, lifting the little gloved hand to his lips. An involuntary sigh escaped from Mr. Dinsmore 1 s breast. " Thank you, my friend," Elsie replied to her hus- band, the tone and the look saying far more than the words. Then turning to her father, " And to-morrow, papa, you will welcome me to the other of my two dear homes." " I hope so, daughter; sunlight is not more welcome than you will always be." What joyous greetings now awaited our travelers. Elsie had hardly stepped from the carriage ere she found herself in Mrs. Travilla's arms, the old lady rejoicing over her as the most precious treasure Providence could have sent her. Then came Rose, with her tender, motherly embrace, and joyous " Elsie, dearest, how glad I am to have you with us again." "Oh, but you've missed us sadly!" said Aunt Wealthy, taking her turn; " the house seemed half gone at the Oaks. Didn't it, Horace ? " " Yes ; the absence of our eldest daughter made a very wide gap in the family circle," answered Mr. Dinsmore. And "Yes, indeed!" cried Horace junior, thinking 178 ELSIE'S WOMANHOOD. himself addressed. " I don't believe I could have done without her at all if she hadn't written me those nice little letters." "Don't you thank me for bringing her back then, my little brother?" asked Mr. Travilla, holding out his hand to the child. " Yes, indeed, Brother Edward. Papa says I may call you that, as you asked me to ; and I'll give you an- other hug as I did that night, if you'll let me." " That I will, my boy ! " And opening wide his arms he took the lad into a warm embrace, which was re- turned as heartily as given. " Now, Elsie, it's my turn to have a hug and kiss from you," Horace said, as Mr. Travilla released him; "ev- erybody's had a turn but me. Miss King and Rosebud and all." Elsie had the little one in her arms, caressing it fondly. " Yes, my dear little brother," she said, giving Rose- bud to her mammy, " you shall have as hard a nug as I can give, and as many kisses as you want. I love you dearly, dearly, and am as glad to see you as you could wish me to be." "Are you much fatigued, Elsie dear?" asked Rose, svhen the greetings were over, even to the kindly shake of the hand and pleasant word to each of the assembled servants. "Oh, no, mamma, we have traveled but little at night, and last night I had nine hours of sound, refreshing sleep." "That was right," her father said, with an approving glance at Travilla. ELSIE'S WOMANHOOD. I- 9 Mrs. Travilla led the way to a suite of beautiful apart- ments prepared for the bride. Elsie's taste had been consulted in all the refitting and refurnishing, and the whole effect was charming. This was, however, her first sight of the rooms since the changes had been begun. The communicating doors were thrown wide, giving a view of the whole suite at once, from the spot where Elsie stood between Mr. Travilla and his mother. She gazed for a moment, then turned to her husband a face spark- ling with delight. "Does it satisfy you, my little wife?" he asked, in tones that spoke intense enjoyment of her pleasure. "Fully, in every way; but especially as an evidence of my husband's love," she answered, suffering him to throw an arm about her and fold her to his heart. There had been words of welcome and a recognition of the younger lady as now mistress of the mansion, trembling on the mother's tongue, but she now stole quietly away and left them to each other. In half an hour the two rejoined their guests, " some- what improved in appearance," as Mr. Travilla laugh- ingly said he hoped they would be found. "You are indeed," said Aunt Wealthy, "a lily or a rose couldn't look lovelier than Elsie does in that pure white, and with the beautiful flowers in her hair. I like her habit of wearing natural flowers in her hair." "And I," said her husband, "they seem to me to have been made for her adornment." "And your money-hoon's over, Elsie; how odd At seems to think you've been so long matric^, And did J8o ELSIE'S WOMANHOOD. you pet through the money-hoon without a quarrel? But of course you did." Elsie, who had for a moment looked slightly puzzled by the new word, now answered with a smile of compre- hension, "Oh, yes, auntie; surely we should be a sad couple if even the honeymoon were disturbed by a disa- greement. But Edward and I never mean to quarrel." Mr. Dinsmore turned in his chair, and gave his daughter a glance of mingled surprise and disapproba- tion. "There, papa, I knew you would think me disrespect- ful," she exclaimed with a deep blush; "but he insisted, indeed ordered me, and you know I have promised to obey." "It is quite true," assented Mr. Tra villa, coloring in his turn ; " but I told her it was the only order I ever meant to give her." "Better not make rash promises, " said Mr. Dinsmore, laughing ; " these wives are sometimes inclined to take advantage of them." "Treason! treason!" cried Rose, lifting her hands; "to think you'd say that before me ! Husband, husband, cease your strife No longer idly rove, sir ; Tho' I am your wedded wife, Yet I am not your slave, sir.' " There was a general laugh, in the midst of which the tea-bell rang. "Come," said the elder Mrs. Travilla good-humoredly, " don't be setting a bad example to my children, Mr. ELSIE'S WOMANHOOD. 181 and Mrs. Dinsmore, but let us all adjourn amicably to the tea-room, and try the beneficial effect of meat and drink upon our tempers." "That's a very severe reproof, coming from so mild a person as yourself, Mrs. Travilla," said Rose. " My dear, give your arm to Aunt Wealthy, or our hostess. The ladies being so largely in the majority, the youngei ones should be left to take care of themselves ; of course excepting our bride. Miss King, will you take my arm?" " Sit here, my daughter," said Mrs. Travilla, indica- ting the seat before the tea-urn. " Mother, I did not come here to turn you out of your rightful place," objected Elsie, blushing painfully. " My dear child, it is your own place ; as the wife of the master of the house, you are its mistress. And if you knew how I long to see you actually filling that position ; how glad I am to resign the reigns to such hands as yours, you need not hesitate or hold back." "Yes; take it, wife," said Mr. Travilla, in tender, re- assuring tones, as he led her to the seat of honor ; " I know my mother is sincere (she is never anything else), and she told me long ago, even before she knew who was to be her daughter, how glad she would be to resign the cares of mistress of the household." Elsie yielded, making no further objection, and presided with the same modest ease, dignity, and grace with which she had filled the like position at Viamede. The experience there had accustomed her to the duties of the place, and after the *rst moment she felt quite at home in it. Mr. Dinsmore's carriage was announced at the early 182 ELSIE'S WOMANHOOD. hour he had named. The conversation in the drawing- room had been general for a time, but now the company had divided themselves into groups ; the two older married ladies and Aunt Wealthy forming one, Mr. Travilla and Miss King another, while Mr. Dinsmore and his daughter had sought out the privacy of a sofa, at a distance from the others, and were in the midst of one of the long, confidential chats they always enjoyed so much. "Ah, papa, don't go yet," Elsie pleaded, "we're not half done our talk, and it's early." " But the little folks should have been in their nests long before this," he said, taking out his watch. " Then send them and their mammies home, and let the carriage return for you and the ladies ; unless thev wish to go now." He looked at her smilingly. " You are not feeling the need of rest and sleep? " "Not at all, papa; only the need of a longer chat with you." " Thea, since you had so good a rest last night, it shall be as you wish." "Are you ready, my dear?" asked Rose, from the Other side of the room. " Not yet, wife ; I shall stay half an hour longer, and if you ladies like to do the same we will send the car- riage home with the children and their mammies, and let \t return for you." " What do you say, Aunt Wealthy and Miss Lottie? " inquired Mrs. Dinsmore. " I prefer to stay and talk out my finish with Mrs. Travilla," said Miss Stanhope. ELSIE'S WOMANHOOD. 183 "I cast my vote on the same side," said Miss King. "But, my dear Mrs. Dinsmore, don't let us keep you." "Thanks, no; but I, too, prefer another half hour in this pleasant company." The half hour flew away on swift wings, to Elsie es- pecially. " But why leave us at all to-night, auntie and Lottie ? " she asked, as the ladies began their preparations for de- parture. " You are to be my guests for the rest of the winter, are you not? " Then turning, with a quick vivid blush, to Mrs. Travilla, " Mother, am I transcending my rights ? " " My dearest daughter, no ; did I not say you were henceforth mistress of this house? " " Yes, from its master down to the very horses in the stable and dogs in the kennel," laughed Mr. Travilla, coming softly up and stealing an arm about his wife's waist. Everybody laughed. "No, sir; I don't like to contradict you," retorted Elsie, coloring but looking lovingly into the eyes bent so fondly upon her, " but I am nothing to you but your little wife ; ' ' and her voice sank almost to a whisper with the last word. f "Ah? Well, dear child, that's enough for me," he said, in the same low tone. "But, Lottie," she remarked aloud, "you are tying on your hat. Won't you stay? " " Not to-night, thank you, Mrs. Travilla," answered the gay girl in her merry, lively tones. " You are to be at the Oaks to-morrow, and perhaps I'll well, we can settle the time there." J84 ELSIE'S WOMANHOOD. "And you, auntie?" " Why, dearie, I think you'd better get your house- keeping a little used to your ways first. And it's better for starting out that young folks should be alone." Mr. Dinsmore had stepped into the hall for his hat, and while the other ladies were making their adieus to her new mother, Elsie stole softly after him. "My good-night kiss, papa," she whispered, putting her arms about his neck. " My dear darling ! my precious, precious child ! how glad I am to be able to give it to you once more, and to take my own from your own sweet lips," he said, clasp- ing her closer. " God bless you and keep you, and ever cause His face to shine upon you." CHAPTER EIGHTEENTH. " O what passions then What melting sentiments of kindly care, On the new parents seize." THOMPSON'S AGAMEMNON. " There is none In all this cold and hollow world, no fount Of deep, strong, deathless love, save that within A mother's heart ! " MRS. REMANS. FINDING it so evidently the wish of both her husband and his mother, Elsie quietly and at once assumed the reins of government. But with that mother to go to for advice in every doubt and perplexity, and with a dozen or more of well-trained servants at her command, her post, though no sinecure, did not burden her with its duties ; she still could find time for the cultivation of mind and heart, for daily walks and rides, and the enjoyment of society both at home and abroad. Shortly after the return of the newly married pair, there was a grand party given in their honor at Rose- lands; another at Ashlands, one at Pinegrove, at the Oaks, and several other places ; then a return was made by a brilliant affair of the kind at Ion. But when at last this rather wearying round was over, they settled down to the quiet home life much more con- genial to both ; always ready to entertain with unbounded 185 186 ELSIE'S WOMANHOOD. hospitality, and ignoring none of the legitimate claims of the outside world, they were yet far more interested in the affairs of their own little one, made up of those nearest and dearest. They were an eminently Christian household, care- fully instructing their dependents in the things pertaining to godliness, urging them to faith in Jesus evidenced by good works; trying to make the way of salvation very clear to their often dull apprehension, and to recommend it by their own pure, consistent lives. Night and morning all were called together family and house servants and Mr. Travilla read aloud a por- tion of Scripture, and led them in prayer and praise. Nor was a meal ever eaten without God's blessing having first been asked upon it. There was but one drawback to Elsie's felicity that she no longer dwelt under the same roof with her father ; yet that was not so great, as a day seldom passed in which they did not meet once or oftener. It must be very urgent business, or a severe storm, that kept him from riding or driving over to Ion, unless his darling first appeared at the Oaks. Aunt Wealthy and Lottie came to Ion within a fort- night after the return from Viamede; and while the former divided the rest of her stay at the South between Ion and the Oaks, Lottie spent nearly the whole of hers with Elsie. In May, Harry Duncan came for his aunt, and Miss King returned with them to her paternal home. Our friends at Ion and the Oaks decided to spend their sum mer at home this year. ELSIE'S WOMANHOOD. 187 " We have traveled so much of late years," said Rose, "that I am really tired of it." " And home is so dear and sweet," added Elsie. " I mean both Ion and the Oaks, Edward and papa; for somehow they seem to me to be both included in that Mie dear word." " That is right," responded her father. " Yes; we seem to be all one family," said Mr. Tra- villa, contentedly, fondling Rosebud, whom he had coaxed to a seat upon his knee ; " and like a good spouse, I vote on the same side with my wife." "I too," said his mother, looking affectionately upon them both. " I have no inclination to travel, and shall be much happier for having you all about me." The summer glided rapidly by, and vanished, leaving at Ion a priceless treasure. It was a soft, hazy, delicious September morning; Elsie sat in her pretty boudoir, half-reclining in the depths of a large velvet-cushioned easy chair. Her hus- band had left her a minute before, and she was no, not quite alone, for her eyes were turning with a sweet, new fight in them, upon a beautiful rosewood crib where, un- derneath the silken covers and resting on pillows of eider- down, lay a tiny form, only a glimpse of the pink face and one wee doubled-up fist to be caught through the Jace curtains so carefully drawn about the little sleeper. A familiar step was heard in the outer room. The door opened quietly, and Elsie looking up cried, " Papa," m a delighted yet subdued tone. " My darling," he said, coming to her and taking her in his arms. " How nice to see you up again ; but you 188 ELSIE'S WOMANHOOD. must be careful, very, very careful, not to overexert yourself." " I am, my dear father, for Edward insists on it, and watches over me, and baby too, as if really afraid we might somehow slip away from him." " He is quite right. There, you must not stand ,, re* cline in your chair again, while I help myself to a seat by your side. How are you to-day ?" " I think I never felt better in my life, papa ; so strong and well that it seems absurd to be taking such care of myself." " Not at all ; you must do it. You seem to be alone with your babe. I hope you never lift her ? " " No, sir, not yet. That I shall not has been my hus- band's second order. Mammy is within easy call, just in the next room, and will come the instant she is wanted," "Let me look at her; unless you think it will disturb her rest." "Oh, no, sir." And the young mother gently drew aside the curtain of the crib. The two bent over the sleeping babe, listening to its gentle breathing. "Ah, papa, I feel so rich ! you don't know how I love her ! " whispered Elsie. "Don't I, my daughter? don't I know how I love you?" And his eyes turned with yearning affection upon her face, then back to that of the little one. "Six weeks old to-day, and a very cherub for beauty. Aunt Chloe tells me she is precisely my daughter over again, and I feel as if I had now an opportunity to recover ELSIE'S WOMANHOOD. 189 what I lost in not having my first-born with me from her birth. Little Elsie, grandpa feels that you are his ; his precious treasure." The young mother's eyes grew misty with a strange mixture of emotion, in which love and joy were the deepest and strongest. Her arm stole round her father's neck. "Dear papa, how nice of you to love her so; my precious darling. She is yours, too, almost as much as Edward's and mine. And I am sure if we should be taken away and you and she be left, you would be the the same good father to her you have been to me." "Much better, I hope. My dear daughter, I was far too hard with you at times. But I know you have for- given it all long ago." " Papa, dear papa, please don't ever again talk of of forgiveness from me ; I was your own, and I believe you always did what you thought was for my good ; and oh, what you have been, and are to me, no tongue can tell." " Or you to me, my own beloved child," he answered with emotion. The babe stirred, and opened its eyes with a little, "Coo, coo." "Let me take her," said Mr. Dinsmore, turning back the cover and gently lifting her from her cozy nest Elsie lay back among her cushions again, watching with delighted eyes as her father held and handled the wee body as deftly as the most competent child's nurse. It was a very beautiful babe; the complexion soft, smooth, and very fair, with a faint pink tinge ; the little, finely formed head covered with rings of golden hair 19 ELSIE'S WOMANHOOD. that would some day change to the darker shade of her mother's, whose regular features and large, soft brown eyes she inherited also. "Sweet little flower blossomed into this world of sin and sorrow ! Elsie, dearest, remember that she is not absolutely yours, her father's, or mine; but only lent you a little while to be trained up for the Lord." "Yes, papa, I know," she answered with emotion, "and I gave her to Him even before her birth." " I hope she will prove as like you in temper and dis- position as she bids fair to be in looks." "Papa, I should like her to be much better than I was." He shook his head with a half-incredulous smile. " That could hardly be, if she has any human nature at all." "Ah, papa, you forget how often I used to be naughty jnd disobedient ; how often you had to punish me ; par- acularly in that first year after you returned from Europe. ' ' A look of pain crossed his features. "Daughter, dear, I am full of remorse when I think of that time. I fully deserved the epithet Travilla once bestowed upon me in his righteous indignation at my cruelty to my gen- ile, sensitive little girl." "What was that, papa?" she asked, with a look of wonder and surprise. " Dinsmore, you're a brute ! " "Papa, how could he say that ! " and the fair face Bushed with momentary excitement and anger towards the father of her child, whom she so thoroughly respected and so dearly loved. "Ah, don't be angry with him," said Mr. Dinsmore; ELSIE'S WOMANHOOD. 191 "I was the culprit. You cannot have forgotten your fall from the piano-stool which came so near making me childless? It was he who ran in first, lifted you, and laid you on the sofa with the blood streaming from the wounded temple over your curls and your white dress. Ah, i can never forget the sad sight, or the pang that shot through my heart with the thought that you were dead. It was as he laid you down that Travilla turned to me with those indignant words, and I felt that I fully deserved them. And yet I was even more cruel after- wards, when next you refused to obey when I bade you offend against your conscience." "Don't let us think or talk of it any more, dear fa- ther ; I love far better to dwell upon the long years that followed, full of the tenderest care and kindness. You certainly can find nothing to blame yourself with in them." " Yes ; I governed you too much. It would probably have ruined a less amiable temper, a less loving heart, than yours. It is well for parents to be sometimes a little blind to trivial faults. And I was so strict, so stern, so arbitrary, so severe. My dear, be more lenient to your child. But of course she will never find sternness ia either you or her father." "I think not, papa; unless she proves very head- strong ; but you surely cannot mean to advise us not to require the prompt, cheerful, implicit obedience you have always exacted from all your children ?" " No, daughter ; though you might sometimes excuse or pardon a little forgetfulness when the order has noa: been of vital importance," he answered, with a smile. 192 ELSIE'S WOMANHOOD. There was a moment's silence : then looking affection- ately into her father's face, Elsie said, "I am so glad, papa, that we have had this talk. Edward and I have had several on the same subject (for we are very, very anxious to train our little one aright) ; and I find that we all agree. But you must be tired acting the part of nurse. Please lay her in my arms." " I am not tired, but I see you want her," he answered with a smile, doing as she requested. "Ah, you precious wee pet! you lovely, lovely little darling ! " the young mother said, clasping her child to her bosom, and softly kissing the velvet cheek. " Papa, is she really beautiful ? or is it only the mother love that makes her so in my eyes ? " " No ; she is really a remarkably beautiful babe. Strangers pronounce her so as well as ourselves. Do you feel quite strong enough to hold her ? " "Oh, yes, sir; yes, indeed! The doctor says he thinks there would now be no danger in my lifting her, but ' ' laughingly, and with a fond look up into her hus- band's eyes, as at that moment he entered the room, " that old tyrant is so fearful of an injury to this piece of his personal property, that he won't let me." ; " That old tyrant, eh ? " he repeated, stooping to take a kiss from the sweet lips, and to bestow one on the wee 1 face resting on her bosom. "Yes, you know you are," she answered, her eyes contradicting her words ; " the idea of you forbidding Sne to lift my own baby ! " " My baby, my little friend," he said gayly. Elsie laughed a low, silvery, happy laugh, musical as ELSIE'S WOMANHOOD. 193 a chime of bells. "Our baby," she corrected. "But you have not spoken to papa." "Ah, we said good-morning out in the avenue. Dinsmore, since we are all three here together now, sup- pose we get Elsie's decision in regard to that matter we were consulting about." "Very well." " What matter? " she asked, looking a little curious. " A business affair," replied her husband, taking a seat by her side. " I have a very good offer for your New Orleans prop- erty, daughter," said Mr. Dinsmore; "shall I accept it?'* " Do you think it advisable, papa ? and you, Edward? I have great confidence in your judgments." "We do; we think the money could be better and more safely invested in foreign stock ; but it is for you to decide, as the property is yours." " More safely invested ? I thought I had heard you both say real estate was the safest of all investments." "Usually," replied her father, " but we fear property there is likely to depreciate in value." " Well, papa, please do just as you and my husband think best. You both know far more about these things than I do, and so I should rather trust your judgment than my own." "Then I shall make the sale; and I think the time will come when you will be very glad that I did." Mr. Dinsmore presently said good-bye and went away, leaving them alone. "Are not your arms tired, little wife?" asked Mr. Travilla. J94 ELSIE'S WOMANHOOD. "No, dear; ah, it is so sweet to have her little head lying here ; to feel her little form, and know that she is aay own, own precious treasure." He rose, gently lifted her in his arms, put himself in the easy chair and placed her on his knee. " Now I have you both. Darling, do you know that I love you better to-day than I ever did before ? " "Ah, but you have said that many times," she an- r.vered, with an arch, yet tender smile. "And it is always true. Each day I think my love as great as it can be, but the next I find it still greater." "And I have felt angry with you to-day, for the first time since you told me of your love." Her tone was remorseful and pleading, as though she would crave forgiveness. "Angry with me, my dearest? In what can I have offended?" he asked in sorrowful surprise. " Papa was saying that he had sometimes been too hard with me, and had fully deserved the epithet you once bestowed upon him in your righteous indignation. It was when I fell from the piano-stool ; do you remember? " "Ah, yes, I can never forget it. And I called him a brute. But you will forgive what occurred so long ago p and in a moment of anger aroused by my great love for you?" "Forgive you, my husband? ah, it is I who should crave forgiveness, and I do, though it was a momentary feeling ; and now I love you all the better for the great loving heart that prompted the exclamation." "We will exchange forgiveness," he whispered, fold- ing her closer to his heart. CHAPTER NINETEENTH. Sweet is the image of the brooding dove ! Holy as heaven a mother's tender love ! The love of many prayers, and many tears Which changes not with dim, declining years The only love which, on this teeming earth, Asks no return for passion's wayward birth." MRS. NORTON'S DREAM. ] " Death is another life." BAILEY. No mortal tongue or pen can describe the new, deep fountain of love the birth of her child had opened in our Elsie's heart. Already a devoted wife and daughter, she was the tenderest, most careful, most judicious of mothers ; watching vigilantly over the welfare, physical, moral, and spiritual, of her precious charge. Often she took it with her to her closet, or kneeling beside its cradle, sent up fervent petitions to Him who, while on earth, said, " Suffer the little children, and for- bid them not, to come unto Me," that He would receive 'her little one, and early make her a lamb of His fold. And even before the child could comprehend, she be- gan to tell it of that dear Saviour and His wondrous love ; then, as soon as it could speak, she taught it to lisp a simple prayer to Him. Little Elsie was almost the idol of her father and 195 196 ELSIE'S WOMANHOOD. grandparents, who all looked upon her as a sort of sec- ond edition of her mother; more and more so as she grew in size, in beauty, and intelligence. Our Elsie seemed to find no cloud in her sky during that first year of her motherhood. " I thought I was as perfectly happy as possible in this world, before our darling came," she said to her husband one day, "but I am far happier now ; for oh ! such a well-spring of joy as she is ! " "I am sure I can echo and reecho your words," he answered, folding the child to his heart. "How rich I have grown in the last two years ! My two Elsies, more precious than the wealth of the world ! Sometime' I'm half afraid I love you both with an idolatrous affection, and that God will take you from me." His voice trem- bled with the last words. " I have had that fear also," she said, coming to his side and laying her hand on his arm ; " but, Edward, if we put God first, we cannot love each other, nor this wee precious pet, too dearly." " No, you are right, little wife. But we must not ex- pect to continue always, or very long, so free from trial j for 'we must through much tribulation enter into the kingdom of God.' And ' many are the afflictions of the righteous.' " "But the Lord delivereth him out of them all," sh? responded, finishing the quotation. " Yes, dearest, I know that trials and troubles will come, but not of themselves, and what our Father sends, He will give us strength to bear. The Lord God is a sun and shield, the Lord will give grace and glory.' " ELSIE'S WOMANHOOD. 19? This conversation was held when the little girl was about a year old. Early in the following winter Elsie said to the dear old Mrs. Travilia, " Mother, I'm afraid you are not well. You are losing flesh and color, and do not seem so strong as usual. Mamma remarked it to me to-day, and asked what ailed you." "I am doing very well, dear," the old lady an- swered with a placid smile, and in her own gentle, quiet tones. " Mother, dear mother, something is wrong ; you don't deny that you are ill ! " and Elsie's tone was full of alarm and distress, as she hastily seated herself upon an otto- man beside Mrs. Travilla's easy chair, and earnestly scanned the aged face she loved so well. " We must have Dr. Barton here to see you. May I not send at once?" " No, dearest, I have already consulted him, and he is doing all he can for my relief." " But cannot cure you ? " The answer came after a moment's pause. "No, dear; but I had hoped it would be much longer ere my cross cast its shadow over either your or Edward's path." Elsie could not speak ; she only took the pale hands in hers, and pressed them again and again to her quiv- ering lips, while her eyes filled to overflowing. "Dear daughter," said the calm, sweet voice, "do not grieve that I have got my summons home; for dearly, dearly as I love you all, I am often longing to see the face of my Beloved; of Him who hath re- 198 ELSIE'S WOMANHOOD. deemed me and washed me from my sins in His own precious blood." Mr. Travilla from the next room had heard it all. Hurrying in, he knelt by her side and folded his arms about her. " Mother," he said, hoarsely, " oh, is it, can it be so ? Are we to lose you ? " " No, my son; blessed be God, I shall not be lost, but only gone before ; so don't be troubled and sorrowful when you see me suffer ; remember that He loves me far better than you can, and will never give me one un- needed pang. "Well may I bear joyfully all He sends; for your light affliction, which is but for a moment, worketh for us a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory ; and He has said, * When thou passest through the waters, I will be with thee : and through the floods, they shall not overflow thee : when thou walkest through the fire thou shalt not be burned, neither shall the flames kindle upon thee.' " "And He is faithful to His promises. But we will not let you die yet, my mother, if anything in the wide world can save you. There are more skilful physicians than Dr. Barton ; we will consult them " "My son, the disease is one the whole profession agree in pronouncing incurable, and to travel would be torture. No, be content to let me die at home, with you and this beloved daughter to smooth my dying pillow, our wee precious pet to wile away the pain with her pretty baby ways, and my own pastor to comfort me with God's truth and sweet thoughts of heaven." ELSIE'S WOMANHOOD. 199 Elsie looked the question her trembling lips refused to litter. "I shall not probably leave you soon," said the old lady. "It is a slow thing, the doctor tells me, it will take some time to run its course." Elsie could scarce endure the anguish in her husband's face. Silently she placed herself by his side, her arm about his neck, and laid her cheek to his. He drew her yet closer, the other arm still em- bracing his mother. "Are you suffering much, dearest mother?" "Not more than He giveth me strength to bear; and His consolations are not small. " My dear children, I have tried to hide this from you lest it should mar your happiness. Do not let it do so ; it is no cause of regret to me. I have lived my three-score years and ten, and if by reason of strength they should be four-score, yet would their strength be labor and sorrow. I am deeply thankful that our Father has decreed to spare me the infirmities of extreme old age, by calling me home to that New Jerusalem where sin and sorrow, pain and feebleness, are unknown." "But to see you suffer, mother! " groaned her son. " Think on the dear Hand that sends the pain so in- finitely less than what He bore for me ; that it is but for a moment ; and of the weight of glory it is to work for me. Try, my dear children, to be entirely submissive to His will." "We will, mother," they answered; "and to be cheerful for your sake." A shadow had fallen upon the brightness of the hith- 200 ELSIE'S WOMANHOOD. erto happy home a shadow of a great, coming sorrow and the present grief of knowing that the dear mother, though ever patient, cheerful, resigned, was enduring al- most constant and often very severe pain. They watched over her with tenderest love and care, doing everything in their power to relieve, strengthen, comfort her; never giving way in her presence to the grief that often wrung their hearts. Dearly as M.r. Travilla and Elsie had loved each other before, this community of sorrow drew them still closer together ; as did their love for, and joy and pride in, their beautiful child. The consolations of God were not small with any of our friends at Ion and the Oaks ; yet was it a winter of trial to all. For some weeks after the above conversation, Mr. Dinsmore and Rose called every day, and showed themselves sincere sympathizers ; but young Horace and little Rosebud were taken with scarlet fever in its worst form, and the parents being much with them, did not venture to Ion for fear of carrying the infection to wee Elsie. By God's blessing upon skilful medical advice and attention, and the best of nursing, the children were brought safely through the trying ordeal, the disease leaving no evil effects, as it so often does. But scarcely had they convalesced when Mr. Dinsmore fell ill of typhoid fever, though of a rather mild type. Then as he began to go about again, Rose took to her bed with what proved to be a far more severe and last- ELSIE'S WOMANHOOD. 201 ing attack of the same disease ; for weeks her life was in great jeopardy, aud even after the danger was past, the improvement was so very slow that her husband was filled with anxiety for her. Meanwhile the beloved invalid at Ion was slowly sink- ing to the grave. Nay, rather, as she would have it, journeying rapidly towards her heavenly home, " the land of the leal," the city which hath foundations, whose builder and Maker is God. She suffered, but with a patience that never failed, a cheerfulness and joyful looking to the end, that ma^ " her sick-room a sort of little heaven below. Her children were with her almost constantly through the day; but Mr. Travilla, watchful as ever over his idolized young wife, would not allow her to lose a night's rest, insisting on her retiring at the usual hour. Nor would he allow her ever to assist in lifting his mother, or any of the heavy nursing; she might smooth her pillows, give her medicines, order dainties prepared to tempt the failing appetite, and oversee the negro women, who were capable nurses, and one of whom was always at hand night and day, ready to do whatever was required. Elsie dearly loved her mother-in-law, and felt it both a duty and delight to do all in her power for her com- fort and consolation ; but when she heard that her own beloved father was ill, she could not stay away from him, bi't made a daily visit to the Oaks and to his bedside. She was uniformly cheerful in his presence, but wept in secret because she was denied the privilege of nursing him in his illness. ao2 ELSIE'S WOMANHOOD. Then her sorrow and anxiety for Rose were great, and all the more because, Mrs. Travilla being then at the worst, she could very seldom leave her for even the shortest call at the Oaks. In the afternoon of a sweet bright Sabbath in March, a little group gathered hi Mrs. Travilla's room. Her pastor was there: a man of large heart full of tender sympathy for the sick, the suffering, the bereaved, the poor, the distressed in mind, body, or estate ; a man mighty in the Scriptures ; with its warnings, its counsels, its assurances, its sweet and precious promises ever ready on his tongue ; one who by much study of the Bible, accompanied by fervent prayer for the wisdom promised to him that asks it, had learned to wield wisely and with success " the sword of the Spirit which is the word of God." Like Noah he was a preacher of righteousness, and like Paul could say, " I ceased not to warn every one night and day with tears." He had brought with him one of his elders, a man of like spirit, gentle, kind, tender, ever ready to obey the command to " weep with those that weep and rejoice with those that do rejoice," a man silver-haired and growing feeble with age, yet so meek and lowly in heart, so earnest and childlike in his approaches to our Father, that he seemed on the very verge of heaven. " Comfort ye, comfort ye my people, saith your God." Often had these two been in that sick-room, comforting the aged saint as she neared " the valley of the shadow of death." To-day they had come again on the same Christlike errand, and for the last time ; for all could see that she ELSIE'S WOMANHOOD. 219 is no yoke of oppression to cast off. There can be no effect without a cause." "The accursed lust of power on the part of a few selfish, unprincipled men, may invent a cause, and foi the carrying out of their own ambitious schemes, they may lead the people to believe and act upon it. No one proposes to interfere with our institution where it already exists even the Republican party has emphatically de- nied any such intention yet the hue and cry has been raised that slavery will be abolished by the incoming ad- ministration, arms put into the hands of the blacks, and a servile insurrection will bring untold horrors to the hearths and homes of the South." "Oh, dreadful, dreadful ! " cried Rose. "But, my dear, there is really no such danger: the men (unscrupulous politicians) do not believe it them- selves ; but they want power, and as they could never succeed in getting the masses to rebel to compass their selfish ends, they have invented this falsehood and are deceiving the people with it." " Don't put all the blame on the one side, Dinsmore," said Mr. Travilla. ' "No; that would be very unfair. The framers of our constitution looked to gradual emancipation to rid us of this blot on our escutcheon, this palpable inconsistency between our conduct and our political creed. "It did so in a number of States, and probably would ere this in all, but for the fierce attacks of a few ultra- abolitionists, who were more zealous to pull the mote out of their brother's eye than the beam out of their own, 220 ELSIE'S WOMANHOOD. and so exasperated the Southern people by their whole* sale abuse and denunciations, that all thought of emanci- pation was given up. "It is human nature to cling the tighter to anything another attempts to force from you; even though you may have felt ready enough to give it up of your own free will." "Very true," said Travilla, "and Garrison and his crew would have been at better work repenting of their own sins, than denouncing those of their neigh- bors." "But, papa, you don't think it can come to war, a civil war, in our dear country ? the best land the sun shines on : and where there is none of the oppression that makes a wise man mad ! " " I fear it, daughter, I greatly fear it; but we will cast this care, as well as all others, upon Him who ' doeth ac- cording to His will, in the army of heaven and among the inhabitants of the earth.' " What a winter of uncertainty and gloom to Ameri- cans, both at home and abroad, was that of i86o-'6i'. Each mail brought to our anxious friends in Naples news calculated to depress them more and more in view of the calamities that seemed to await their loved land. State after State was seceding and seizing upon United States property within its limits forts, arsenals, navy-yards, custom-houses, mints, ships, armories, and military stores while the government at Washington remained inactive, doubtless fearing to precipitate the civil strife. ELSIE'S WOMANHOOD. 221 Still Mr. Travilla, Rose, and Elsie, like many lovers of the Union, both North and South, clung to the hope that war might yet be averted. At length came the news of the formation of the Confederacy : Davis's election as its president ; then of the firing upon the Star of the West, an un- armed vessel bearing troops and supplies to Fort Sumter. " Well, the first gun has been fired," said Mr. Dins- more, with a sigh, as he laid down the paper from which he had been reading the account. "But perhaps it may be the only one, papa," re- marked Elsie hopefully. "I wish it may," replied her father, rising and be- ginning to pace to and fro, as was his wont when excited or disturbed. The next news from America was looked for with in- tense anxiety. It was delayed longer than usual ; and at length a heavy mail came, consisting of letters and papers of various dates from the twelfth to the twentieth of April, and bringing news of the most exciting char- acter in the fall of Fort Sumter : the call of the president for seventy-five thousand troops to defend the capital, the seizure of the United States armory at Harper's Ferry by the Confederates ; the attack on the Massachu- setts troops while passing through Baltimore, and lastly the seizure of Norfolk Navy-yard. Dinner was just over at the villa, the family still chat- ting over the dessert, children and all in an unusually merry mood, when this mail was brought in by a servant, and handed to Mr. Dinsmore. 222 ELSIE'S WOMANHOOD. He promptly distributed it, took up the paper of the earliest date, and glancing over the headings, exclaimed, with a groan, " It has come ! " " What? " queried the others, in excited chorus. " War ! My country ! oh, my country ! Fort Sumter has fallen after a terrific bombardment of thirty-six hours." And he proceeded to read aloud the account of the engagement, the others listening in almost breath- less silence. " And they have dared to fire upon the flag ! the emblem of our nationality, the symbol of Revolutionary glory ; to tear it down and trample it in the dust ! " cried Mr. Travilla, pushing back his chair in unwonted excite- ment ; " shameful, shameful ! " Tears were rolling down Elsie's cheeks, and Rose's eyes were full. " Let us adjourn to the library and learn together alJr these papers and letters can tell us," said Mr. Dinsmore, rising. " 'Twill be better so; we shall need the support of each other's sympathy." He led the way and the rest followed. The papers were examined first, by the gentlemen, now the one and now the other reading an article aloud, the excitement and distress of all increasing with each item of intelligence in regard to public affairs. Rose and Elsie opened their letters, and now and then, in the short pauses of the reading, cast a hasty glance at their contents. Elsie's were from her Aunt Adelaide, Walter, and Enna. Rose's from her mother, Richard, May, and Sophie. ELSIE'S WOMANHOOD. 223 The last seemed written in a state of distraction. "Rose, Rose, I think I shall go crazy! my husband and his brothers have enlisted in the Confederate army. They, Harry especially, are furious at the North and full of fight ; and I know my brothers at home will enlist on the other side ; and what if they should meet and kill each other ! Oh, dear ! oh, dear ! my heart is like to break ! " And what is it all about ? I can't see that anybody's oppressed ; but when I tell Harry so, he just laughs and says, ' No, we're not going to wait till they have time to rivet our chains.' 'But,' I say, 'I've had neither sight nor sound of chains ; wait at least till you hear their clank.' Then he laughs again, but says soothingly, ' Never mind, little wife ; don't distress yourself; the North won't fight ; or if they do try it, will soon give it up.' But I know they won't give up : they wouldn't be Americans if they did. "Arthur and Walter Dinsmore were here yesterday, and Arthur is worse than Harry a great deal ; actually told me he wouldn't hesitate to shoot down any or all of my brothers, if he met them in Federal uniform. Walter is almost silent on the subject, and has not yet enlisted. Arthur taunted him with being for the Union, and said if he was quite sure of it he'd shoot him, or help hang him to the nearest tree. " Oh, Rose ! pray, pray that this dreadful war may be averted ! " Rose felt almost stunned with horror as she read; but her tears fell fast as she hurriedly perused the con- tents of the other three, learning from them that Richard, 224 ELSIE'S WOMAMIOOD. Harold, and Fred had already enlisted, and Edward would do the same should the war continue long. "My heart is torn in two! " she cried, looking pit- eously up in her husband's face, with the tears streaming down her own. "What is it, my darling?" he asked, coming to her and taking her cold hands in his. "Oh my country ! my country ! My brothers, too and yours ! they are pitted against each other have en- listed in the opposing armies. Oh, Horace, Horace ! what ever shall we do? " " God reigns, dearest ; let that comfort you and all of us," he said, in moved tones. "It is dreadful, dread- ful ! Brothers, friends, neighbors, with hearts full of hatred and ready to imbrue their hands in each other's blood ; and for what ? That a few ambitious, selfish, unscrupulous men may retain and increase their power ; for this they are ready to shed the blood of tens of thou- sands of their own countrymen, and bring utter ruin upon our beautiful, sunny South." " Oh, papa, surely not ! " cried Elsie; "these papers say the war cannot last more than three months." " They forget that it will be American against Ameri- can. If it is over in three years, 'twill be shorter than I expect." Elsie was weeping, scarcely less distressed than Rose. " We will, at least, hope for better things, little wife," her husband said, drawing her to him with caressing motion. " What do your letters say ? " "They are full of the war; it is the all-absorbing theme with them, as with us. Aunt Adelaide's is very ELSIE'S WOMANHOOD. 225 sad. Her heart clings to the South, as ours do ; yet, like us, she has a strong love for the old Union. " And she's very found of her husband, who, she says, is very strong for the Government ; and then, besides her distress at the thought that he will enlist, her heart is torn with anguish because her brothers and his are in the op- posing armies. "Oh, Edward! isn't it terrible? Civil war in our dear land ! So many whom we love on both sides ! " There was a moment of sorrowful silence. Then her father asked, " What does Enna say ? " " She is very bitter, papa : speaks with great contempt of the North ; exults over the fall of Fort Sumter and the seizure of United States property ; glories in the war- spirit of Dick and Arthur, and sneers at poor Walter be- cause he is silent and sad, and declines, for the present at least, to take any part in the strife. Grandpa, she says, and his mother, too, are almost ready to turn him out of the house ; for they are as hot secessionists as can be found anywhere. " 1 have a letter from Walter too, papa. He writes in a very melancholy strain ; hints mildly at the treatment he receives at home ; says he can't bear the idea of fight- ing against the old flag, and still less the old friends he has at the North, and wishes he was with us or anywhere out of the country, that he might escape being forced to take part in the quarrel." "Poor fellow !" sighed Mr. Dinsmore. "Ah, I have a letter here from my father that I have not yet opened." He took it from the table as he spoke. His face darkened as he read, the frown and stern expression re 226 ELSIE'S WOMANHOOD. minding Elsie of some of the scenes in her early days ; but he handed the missive to Rose, remarking, in a calm, quiet tone, " My father expects me to be as strong a se- cessionist as himself." "But you're for the Union, papa, are you not?" asked Horace. " You'd never fire upon the Stars and Stripes the dear old flag that protects us here? " " No, my son. I love the dear South, which has al- ways been my home, better far than any other of the sections; yet I love the whole better than a part." " So do I ! " exclaimed Rose warmly; " and if Penn- sylvania, my own native State, should rebel against the general government, I'd say, 'Put her down with a strong hand ' ; and just so with any State or section, Eastern, Northern, Middle or Western. I've always been taught that my country is the Union ; and I think that teaching has been general through the North." "It is what my mother taught me, and what I have Jaught my children," said Mr. Dinsmore; "not to love the South or my native State less, but the Union more. I was very young when I lost my mother; but that, and some other of her teachings, I have never for- gotten." " There is, I believe, a strong love for the old Union throughout the whole South," remarked Mr. Travilla; " there would be no rebellion among the masses there, but for the deceptions practised upon them by their lead- ers and politicians ; and it is they who have been whirl- ing the States out of the Union, scarce allowing the peo- ple a voice in the matter." " I don't wonder at the indignation of the North over ELSIE'S WOMANHOOD. 227 the insult to the flag," said Elsie; "nor the furor for it that is sweeping over the land." ' 'I'd like to be there to help fling it to the breeze," cried Horace excitedly ; " and to see how gay the streets must be with it flying everywhere. Yes, and I'd like to help fight. Papa, am I not old enough? mayn't I go?" "No, foolish boy, you are much too young, not yet fourteen. And suppose you were old enough, would you wish to fight your uncles ? kill one of them, perhaps ? Uncle Walter, for instance? " " Oh papa, no, no, no ! I wouldn't for the world hurt one hair of dear Uncle Wai's head ; no, not if he were the hottest kind of secessionist." "Kill Uncle Wai ! why Horace, how could you ever think of such a thing?" exclaimed Rosebud. "And mamma and sister Elsie, why are you both crying so?" All the afternoon the elders of the family remained together, talking over the news they could scarce think or speak of anything else : very grave and sad all of them, the ladies now and then dropping a tear or two, while each paper was carefully scanned again and again, lest some item on the all-absorbing subject might have been overlooked, and every letter that had any bearing upon it read and re-read till its contents had been fully digested. May's gave a graphic account of the excitement in Philadelphia; the recruiting and drilling of troops, the making of flags, the constant, universal singing of patri- otic songs, etc., then closed with the story of the sorrow- ful parting with the dear brothers who might never re turn from the battle-field. 728 ELSIE'S WOMANHOOD. It had been a bright, warm day, but at evening the sea breeze came in cool and fresh ; thin clouds were scudding across the sky, hiding the stars and giving but a faint and fitful view of the young moon that hung, a bright crescent, amid their murky folds. Mr. Dinsmore was pacing slowly to and fro upon an open colonnade overlooking the bay. He walked with bent head and folded arms, as one in painful thought. A slight girlish figure came gliding towards him from the open doorway. " Papa, dear, dear papa," mur- mured a voice tremulous with emotion, " you are very sad to-night; would that your daughter could comfort you ! " He paused in his walk, took her in his arms and folded her close to his heart. " Thank you, darling. Yes, I am sad, as we all are. Would that I could comfort you, and keep all sorrow from your life. Nay, that is not a right wish, for 'whom the Lord loveth He chasteneth, and scourgeth every son whom He receiveth.' 'As many as I love I rebuke and chasten.' " "Yes, papa, those words make me more than willing to bear trials. But oh, how dreadful, how dreadful, to know that our countrymen are already engaged in spilling each other's blood ! " " Yes, that is harrowing enough ; but that it should be also our near and dear relations ! Elsie, I am thinking of my young brothers : they are not Christians ; nor is my poor old father. How can they bear the trials just at hand ? How unfit they are to meet death, especially in the sudden, awful form in which it is like to meet those ELSIE'S WOMANHOOD. 229 who seek the battle-field. Daughter, you must help me pray for them, pleading the promise, 'If two of you shall agree.' " "I will, papa; and oh, I do feel deeply for them. Poor Walter and poor, poor grandpa. I think he loves you best of all his sons, papa; but it would be very terrible to him to have the others killed or maimed." " Yes, it would indeed. Arthur is his mother's idol, and I dare say she now almost regrets that he has now so entirely recovered from his lameness as to be fit for the army." He drew her to a seat. "The babies are in bed, I suppose ?" "Yes, papa; I left my darlings sleeping sweetly. I am trying to train them to regular habits and early hours, as you did me." "That is right." " Papa, it is so sweet to be a mother ! to have my little Elsie in my lap, as I had but a few moments since, and feel the clasp of her arms about my neck, or the tiny hands patting and stroking my face, the sweet baby lips showering kisses all over it, while she coos and rejoices over me ; ' Mamma ! mamma, my mamma ! Elsie's dear mamma! Elsie' sown sweet pretty mamma.' Ah, though our hearts ache for the dear land of our birth, we still have many many blessings left." "We have indeed." Mr. Travilla, Rose, and Horace now joined them, and the last-named besieged his father with questions about the war and its causes ; all of which were patiently an- swered to the best of Mr. Dinsmore's ability, Mr. Tra- 230 ELSIE'S WOMANHOOD. villa now and then being appealed to for further infer mation, or his opinion, while the ladies listened an<& occasionally put in a remark or a query. From that day the mails from America were looked for with redoubled anxiety and eagerness : though the war news was always painful, whichever side had gained a victory or suffered defeat. At first, papers and letters had been received from both North and South, giving them the advantage of hearing the report from each side ; but soon the blockade shut off nearly all intercourse with the South, a mail from thence reaching them only occasionally, by means of some Confederate or foreign craft eluding the vigilance of the besieging squadron. Early in June there came a letter from Miss Stanhope, addressed to Elsie. Like all received from America now, it dwelt almost exclusively upon matters connected with the fearful struggle just fairly begun between the sections. The old lady's heart seemed full of love for the South, yet she was strongly for the Union, and said she should be so if any other section or State rebelled. Lansdale was full of excitement, flags flying every- / where ; they had one streaming across from the top of the house, and another from a tree in the garden. I Harry had enlisted in response to the first call of troops, and was now away, fighting in Virginia ; while she, praying night and day for his safety, was, with most of the ladies of the town, busy as a bee knitting stock- ings and making shirts for the men in the field, and pre- paring lint, bandages, and little dainties for the sick and wounded. CHAPTER TWENTY-SECOND. " Calm me, my God, and keep me calm While these hot breezes blow ; Be like the night-dew's cooling balm Upon earth's fevered brow." H. BONAR. " Fear not; I will help thee." ISAIAH xiii. 13. " DEAR old auntie ! to think how hard at work for her country she is, while I sit idle here," sighed Elsie, clo- sing the letter after reading it aloud to the assembled family. "Mamma, papa, Edward, is there nothing we can do?" " We can do just what they are doing," replied Rose with energy. " I wonder I had not thought of it before ; shirts, stockings, lint, bandages, we can prepare them all ; and send with them such fruits and delicacies as will carry from this far-off place. What say you, gentle- men?" "I think you can," was the simultaneous reply ; Mr. Travilla adding, " and we can help with the lint, and by running the sewing-machines. I'd be glad to add to the comfort of the poor fellows on both sides." "And money is needed by their aid societies," added Mr. Dinsmore. "And I can send that ! " Elsie exclaimed joyous!*" "Yes, we all can," said her father. 231 232 ELSIE'S WOMANHOOD. Several busy weeks followed, and a large box was packed and sent off. "If that arrives safely we will send another," they said ; for news had reached them that such supplies were sorely needed. "What! at it again, little wife?" queried Mr. Tra- villa, entering Elsie's boudoir the next morning, to find her delicate fingers busy with knitting-needles and coarse blue yarn. "Yes, sir," she said, smiling up at him, "it seems a slight relief to my anxiety about my country, to be doing something, if it is only this" "Ah! then I'll take lessons, if you, or Aunt Chloe there will teach me," he returned, laughingly drawing up a chair and taking a seat by her side. "Mammy, can you supply another set of needles, and more yarn ?" " Yes, massa; " and laying down the stocking she was at work upon, away she went in search of them. "Papa, see! so pitty ! " cried a little voice; and "wee Elsie " was at his knee, with a diamond necklace in her hand. "Yes," he said, gently taking it from her, "but rather too valuable a plaything for my little pet. How did she get hold of it, dearest ? " he asked, turning to his wife. "Mamma say Elsie may. Please, papa, let Elsie have it," pleaded the little one with quivering lip and last-filling eyes. " I gave her leave to look over the contents of my jewel box ; she is a very careful little body, and mammy and I are both on the watch : " answered mamma. " It is a great treat to her ; and she takes up only one article ELSIE'S WOMANHOOD. 233 at a time, examines it till satisfied, then lays it back ex- actly as she found it. So please, papa, may she go on ? " " Yes, if mamma gave permission it is all right, dar- ling," he said, caressing the child and returning the necklace. "Tank oo, papa, mamma; Elsie be very tareful mamma's pitty sings," she cried with a gleeful laugh, holding up her rosebud mouth for a kiss, first to one, then the other. "Let papa see where you put it, precious," he said, following her as she tripped across the room and seated herself on a cushion in front of the box. " Dere, papa, dus where Elsie dot it," she said, laying it carefully back in its proper place. "See, so many, many pitty sings in mamma's box." " Yes," he said, passing his eye thoughtfully from one to another of the brilliant collection of rings, brooches, chains, bracelets, and necklaces sparkling with gems- diamonds, rubies, amethysts, pearls, emeralds, and other precious stones. " Little wife, your jewels alone are worth what to very many would be a handsome fortune." " Yes, Edward, and is it not really a pity to have so much locked up in them? " " No, it is a good investment ; especially as things are at present." " I could do very well without them ; should never have bought them for myself; they are almost all your gifts and papa's, or his purchases." Aunt Chloe had returned with the needles and yarn, and now Elsie began giving the lesson in knitting, both she and her pupil making very merry over it. 234 ELSIE'S WOMANHOOD. Rose and Mr. Dinsmore presently joined them, and the latter, not to be outdone by his son-in-law, invited his wife to teach him. Horace was at his lessons, but Rosebud, or Rosie as she had gradually come to be called, soon followed her parents. She was a bright, merry little girl of six, very different from what her sister had been at that age ; full of fun and frolicsome as a kitten, very fond of her father, liking to climb upon his knee to be petted and caressed, but clinging still more to her sweet, gentle mamma. Mr. Travilla and she were the best of friends ; she was devotedly attached to her sister, and considered it " very nice and funny," that she was aunt to wee Elsie and baby Eddie. " Oh," she cried, the moment she came into the room, " what is wee Elsie doing ? Mamma, may I, too ? " " May you what? " asked Rose. " Why, what is the child doing ? playing with your jewels, Elsie?" asked Mr. Dinsmore in a tone of sur- prise, noticing for the first time what was the employment of his little granddaughter. " Yes, papa ; but she is very careful, and I am watch- ing her." "I should not allow it, if she were my child. No, Rosie, you may not; you are not a careful little girl." Rosie was beginning to pout, but catching the stern look in her father's eye, quickly gave it up, her face clearing as if by magic. "Papa," Elsie asked in a low tone, "do you wish me to take away those costly playthings from my little girl ? " "My dear daughter," he said, smiling tenderly upon ELSIE'S WOMANHOOD. 203 stood on Jordan's very brink, its cold waters already creeping up about her feet. Mr. Dinsmore, Mr. Travilla, and Elsie were present ; also, a little withdrawn from the others, Aunt Chloe, Uncle Joe, and a few of the old house servants who were Christians. " The rich and the poor meet together ; the Lord is the Maker of them all." It was a sweetly solemn service, refreshing to the soul of each one there ; most of all, perhaps, to that of 'her who would so soon be casting her crown at the Master's feet. "I am almost home," she said with brightening countenance, her low, sweet voice breaking the solemn stillness of the room; "I am entering the valley, but without fear, for Jesus is with me. I hear Him saying to me, ' Fear not ; I have redeemed thee ; thou art mine.' " "He is all your hope and trust, dear friend, is He not? " asked her pastor. "All, all; His blood and righteousness are all my hope. All my righteousnesses are as filthy rags ; all ray best services have need to be forgiven. I am vile ; but His blood deanseth from all sin ; and He has washed me in it and made me mete for the inheritance of the saints in light." " Dear sister," said the old elder, taking her hand in a last farewell, "good-bye for a short season ; 'twill not be long till we meet before the throne. Do not fear to cross the river, for He will be with you, and will not let you sink." "No; the everlasting arms are underneath and around me, and He will never leave nor forsake." 204 ELSIE'S WOMANHOOD. " ' Precious in the sight of the Lord is the death of His saints,' " said the pastor, taking the feeble hand in his turn. " Fear not ; you shall be more than conqueror through Him that loved us." " Yes, the battle is fought, the victory is won ; and I hear Him saying to me, ' Come up hither.' Oh ! I shall be there very soon a sinner saved by grace." The pastor and elder withdrew, Mr. Travilla going with them to the door. Elsie brought a cordial and held it to her mother's lips, Mr. Dinsmore gently raising her head. " Thank you both," she said, with the courtesy for which she had ever been distinguished. Then, as Mr. Dins- more settled her more comfortably on her pillows, and Elsie set aside the empty cup, " Horace, my friend, fare- well till we meet in a better land. Elsie, darling," lay- ing her pale thin hand on the bowed head, " you have been a dear, dear daughter to me, such a comfort, such a blessing ! May the Lord reward you." Elsie had much ado to control her feelings. Her fa- ther passed his arm about her waist and made her rest her head upon his shoulder. "Mother, how are you now?" asked Mr. Travilla, coming in and taking his place on his wife's other side, close by the bed of the dying one. "All is peace, peace, the sweetest peace. I have nothing to do but to die, I am in the river, but the Lord upholdeth me with His hand, and I have almost reached the farther shore." She then asked for the babe, kissed and blessed it, and bade her son good-bye. " Sing to me, children, the twenty-third psalm." ELSIE'S WOMANHOOD. 205 Controlling their emotion by a strong effort, that they might minister to her comfort, they sang; the three voices blending in sweet harmony. "Thank you," she said again, as the last strain died away. " Hark I I hear sweeter, richer melody, the angels have come for me, Jesus is here. Lord Jesus re- ceive my spirit." There was an enraptured upward glance, an ecstatic smile, then the eyes closed and all was still ; without a struggle or a groan the spirit had dropped its tenement of clay and sped away on its upward flight. It was like a translation ; a deep hush filled the room, while for a moment they seemed almost to see the "glory that dwelleth in Immanuel's land." They scarcely wept, their joy for her, the ransomed of the Lord, almosl swal- lowing up their grief for themselves. But soon Elsie began to tremble violently, shudder after shudder shaking her whole frame, and in sudden alarm her husband and father led her from the room. " Oh, Elsie, my darling, my precious wife ! " cried Travilla, in a tone of agony, as they laid her upon a sofa in her boudoir, "are you ill ? are you in pain? " " Give way, daughter, and let the tears come," said Mr. Dinsmore, tenderly bending over her and gently smoothing her hair; " it will do you good, bring relief to the overstrained nerves and full heart." Even as he spoke the barriers which for so many hours had been steadily, firmly resisting the grief and anguish swelling in her breast, suddenly gave way, and tears poured out like a flood. Her husband knelt by her side and drew her head to a 206 ELSIE'S WOMANHOOD. resting-place on his breast, while her father, with one of her hands in his, softly repeated text after text speaking of the bliss of the blessed dead. She grew calmer. " Don't be alarmed about me, dear Edward, dear papa," she said in her low sweet tones. , " I don't think I am ill ; and heavy as our loss is, dear- jest husband, how we must rejoice for her. Let me go and perform the last office of love for her our precious mother ; I am better ; I am able." "No, no, you are not; you must not," both answered in a breath. "Aunt Dinah and Aunt Chloe will do it all tenderly and lovingly as if she had been of their own flesh and blood," added Mr. Travilla, in trembling tones. CHAPTER TWENTIETH. ' There are smiles and tears in the mother's eyes For her new-born babe beside her lies ; Oh, heaven of bliss ! when the heart o'erflows With the rapture a mother only knows ! " HENRY WARS, JR. MRS. TRA VILLA was laid to rest in their own family burial-ground, her dust sleeping beside that of her hus- band, and children who had died in infancy; and daily her surviving son carried his little daughter thither to scatter flowers upon "dear grandma's grave." It was not easy to learn to live without the dear mother ; they missed her constantly. Yet was their sor- row nearly swallowed up in joy for her the blessed dead who had departed to be with Christ in glory and to go no more out forever from that blissful presence. Then: house was not made dark and gloomy, the sun- light and sweet spring air entered freely as of yore. Nor did they suffer gloom to gather in their hearts or cloud their faces. Each was filled with thankfulness for the spared life of the other, and of their darling little daughter. And scarce a week had passed away since heaven's portals opened wide to the ransomed soul, when a new- voice that of a son and heir was heard in the old home, and many hearts rejoiced in the birth of the beau- tiful boy. 207 208 ELSIE'S WOMANHOOD. " God has sent him to comfort you in your sorrow, dearest," Elsie whispered, as her husband brought the babe fresh from its first robing by Aunt Chloe's careful hands and with a very proud and happy face laid it in her arms. "Yes," he said, in moved tones. "Oh, that men would praise the Lord for His goodness, and for His wonderful works to the children of men !" " If mother could only have seen him ! " And tears gathered in the soft, sweet eyes of the young mother gazing so tenderly upon the tiny face on her arm. " She will, one day, I trust; I have been asking foi this new darling that he may be an heir of glory : that he may early be gathered into the fold of the good Shep- herd." " And I, too," she said, "have besought my precious Saviour to be the God of my children also from their birth." "What do you intend to call your son ? " " What do you ? " she asked, smiling up at him. " Horace, for your father, if you like." "And I had thought of Edward, for his father and yours. Horace Edward. Will that do? " " I am satisfied, if you are. But Edward would do for the next." " But he may never come to claim it," she said, laugh- ing. " Is papa in the house ? " " Yes, and delighted to learn that he has a grandson." " Oh, bring him here and let me see the first meeting between them." " Can you bear the excitement? " ELSIE'S WOMANHOOD. 209 " I promise not to be excited ; and it always does me good to see my dear father. ' ' Mr. Dinsmore came softly in, kissed very tenderly the pale face on the pillow, then took a long look at the tiny pink one nestling to her side. " Ah, isn't he a beauty ? I have made you two grand- fathers now, you dear papa ! " she said, indulging in a little jest to keep down the emotions tugging at her heart- strings. " Do you begin to feel old and decrepit, mon "Not very," he said smiling, and softly smoothing her hair; "not more so to-day than I did yesterday. But now I must leave you to rest and sleep. Try, my dar- ling, for all our sakes, to be very prudent, very calm and quiet." "I will, papa; and don't trouble about me. You know I am in good hands. Ah, stay a moment ! here is Edward bringing wee bit Elsie to take her first peep at her little brother." "Mamma," cried the child, stretching out her little arms towards the bed, " mamma, take Elsie." "Mamma can't, darling; poor mamma is so sick," said Mr. Travilla; "stay with papa." " But she shall kiss her mamma, dear, precious little pet," Elsie said. "Please hold her close for a minute, papa, and let her kiss her mother." He complied under protest, in which Mr. Dinsmore joined, that he feared it would be too much for her ; and the soft baby hands patted the wan cheeks, the tiny rose- bud mouth was pressed again and again to the pale lips, vith rapturous cooings, " Mamma, mamma ! " 310 ELSIE'S WOMANHOOD. "There, pet, that will do," said her father. "Now, see what mamma has for you." "Look, mother's darling," Elsie said with a glad smile, exposing to view the tiny face by her side. "Baby!" cried the little girl, with a joyous shout, 'clapping her chubby hands, "pretty baby Elsie take" \ .and the small arms were held out entreatingly. "No, Elsie is too little to hold it," said her papa; "but she may kiss it very softly." The child availed herself of the permission, then gently patting the newcomer, repeated her glad cry, "Baby, pretty baby." "Elsie's little brother," said her mamma, tenderly. "Now, dearest, let mammy take her away," she added, sinking back on her pillows with a weary sigh. He complied, then bent over her with a look of con- cern. "I should not have brought her in," he said anxiously ; "it has been too much for you." \ " But I wanted so to see her delight. One more kiss, papa, before you go, and then I'll try to sleep." Elsie did not recover so speedily and entirely as be- fore, after the birth of her first babe ; and those to whom she was so dear grew anxious and troubled about her. " You. want change, daughter," Mr. Dinsmore said, coming in one morning and finding her lying pale and languid on a sofa ; " and we are all longing to have you at home. Do you feel equal to a drive over to the Oaks?" " I think I do, papa," she answered, brightening. " Edward took me for a short drive yesterday, and I felt better for it." ELSIE'S WOMANHOOD. 211 "Then, dearest, come home to your father's house and stay there as long as you can ; bring babies and nurses and come. Your own suite of rooms is quite ready for you," he said, caressing her tenderly. " Ah, papa, how nice to go back and feel at home in my own father's house again," she said, softly stroking his head with her thin white hand as he bent over her, the sweet soft eyes, gazing full into his, brimming over with love and joy. " I shall go, if Edward doesn't ob- ject. I'd like to start this minute. But you haven't told me how poor mamma is to-day ? " " Not well, not very much stronger than you are, I fear," he answered, with a slight sigh. "But your coming will do her a world of good, Where is Tra- villa?" " Here, and quite at your service," replied Mr. Tra- villa's cheery voice, as he came in from the garden with his little daughter in his arms. He set her down, and while he exchanged greetings with Mr. Dinsmore, she ran to her mother with a bouquet of lovely sweet-scented spring blossoms they had been gathering "for mamma." "Thank you, mother's darling," Elsie said, accepting the gift and tenderly caressing the giver ; " you and papa, too. But see who is here ? " The child turned to look, and with a joyous cry " G'anpa ! " ran into his outstretched arms. "Grandpa's own wee pet," he said, hugging the little form close and covering the baby face with kisses. " Will you come and live with grandpa in his home for awhile?" 212 ELSIE'S WOMANHOOD. "Mamma? papa too?" she asked, turning a wistful look on them. " Oh, yes; yes indeed, mamma and papa too." "Baby?" " Yes, baby and mammies and all. Will you come?" " May Elsie, mamma ? " "Yes, pet; we will all go, if your papa is willing." And her soft eyes sought her husband's face with a look of love and confidence that said she well knew he would never deny her any good in his power to bestow. " I have been proposing to my daughter to take pos- session again, for as long a time as she finds it convenient and agreeable, of her old suite of rooms at the Oaks. I think the change would do her good, and perhaps you and the little ones also," Mr. Dinsmore explained. "Thank you; I think it would. When will you go, little wife?" "Papa proposes taking me at once." " My carriage is at the door, and this is the pleasantest part of the day," remarked Mr. Dinsmore. " Ah, yes; then take E3sie with you, and I will follow shortly with children and servants. There is no reason in the world why she should not go, if she wishes, and stay as long as she likes." The change proved beneficial to Elsie ; it was so pleas-, ant to find herself again a member of her father's family j and that even without a short separation from her hus- band and little ones. Here, too, absent from the scenes so closely associated with the memory of her beloved mother-in-law, she dwelt less upon her loss, while at the same time she was enter* ELSIE'S WOMANHOOD. 213 tained and cheered by constant intercourse with father, Rose, and young brother and sister. It was indeed a cheering thing to all parties to be thus brought together for a time as one family in delightful social intercourse. Yet, though the invalids improved in spirits, and to some extent in other respects, they did not regain their usual strength, and the physicians recommending travel, particularly a sea voyage, it was finally decided to again visit Europe for an indefinite period, the length of their stay to depend upon circumstances. It was in June, 1860, they left their homes; and travel- ing northward, paid a short visit to relatives and friends in Philadelphia ; then took the steamer for Europe. A few weeks later found them cozily established in a handsome villa overlooking the beautiful bay of Naples. They formed but one family here as at the Oaks ; each couple having their own private suite of apartments, while all other rooms were used in common and their meals taken together ; an arrangement preferred by all ; Mr. Dinsmore and his daughter especially rejoicing in it, as giving them almost as much of each other's society as before her marriage. In this lovely spot they planned to remain for some months, perchance a year ; little dreaming that five years would roll their weary round ere they should see home and dear native land again. CHAPTER TWENTY-FIRST. * He who loves not his country can love nothing." BYRON. * There were sad hearts in a darken'd home, When the brave had left their bower ; But the strength of prayer and sacrifice Was with them in that hour." MRS, HEMANS. THE sea voyage had done much for the health of both ladies, and the soft Italian air carried on the cure. Mr. Dinsmore, too, had recovered his usual strength, for the first time since his attack of fever. There was no lack of good society at their command ; good both socially and intellectually. American, Eng- lish, Italian, French, etc. ; many former friends and ac- quaintances and others desiring to be introduced by these ; but none of our party felt disposed at that time to mix much with the outside world. Elsie's deep mourning was for her sufficient excuse for declining all invitations ; while Rose could plead her still precarious state of health. She wore no outward badge of mourning for Mrs. Travilla, but felt deep and sincere grief at her loss ; for the two had been intimate and dear friends for many years, the wide disparity in age making their intercourse and affection much like that of mother and daughter. The condition of political affairs in their own country was another thing that caused our friends to feel more 214 ELSIE'S WOMANHOOD. 215 exclusive and somewhat reluctant to mingle with those of other nationalities. Every mail brought them letters and papers from both North and South, and from their dis- tant standpoint they watched with deep interest and anx- iety the course of events fraught with such momentous consequences to their native land. Neither Mr. Dinsmore nor Mr. Travilla had ever been a politician; but both they and their wives were dear lovers of their country, by which they meant the whole Union. The three who were natives of the South ac- knowledged that that section was dearer to them than any other, but that the whole was nearer and dearer than any part ; while Rose said " she knew no difference ; it was all her own beloved native land, to her mind one and indivisible." They led a cheerful, quiet life in their Italian home, devoting themselves to each other and their children ; Mr. Dinsmore acting the part of tutor to young Horace, as he had done to Elsie. Her little ones were the pets and playthings of the en- tire household, while she and their father found the sweetest joy in caring for them and watching over and assisting the development of their natures, mental, moral, and physical. Their children would never be left to the care and training of servants, however faithful and devoted. Nor would those of Mr. Dinsmore and Rose. In the esteem of these wise. Christian parents the God-given charge of their own offspring took undoubted precedence of the claims of society. Thus placidly passed the summer and autumn, tne 216 ELBE'S WOMANHOOD, monotony of their secluded life relieved by the enjoy- ment of literary pursuits, and varied by walks, rides, drives, and an occasional sail, in bright, still weather, over the waters of the lovely bay. Elsie entered the drawing-room one morning, with the little daughter in her arms. The child was beautiful as a cherub, the mother sweet and fair as ever, nor a day older in appearance than while yet a girl in her father's house. She found him sole occupant of the room, pacing to and fro with downcast eyes and troubled countenance. But looking up quickly at the sound of her footsteps he came hastily towards her. "Come to grandpa," he said, holding out his hands to the little one; then as he took her in his arms, "My dear daughter, if I had any authority over you now " "Papa," she interrupted, blushing deeply, while the quick tears sprang to her eyes, " you hurt me ! Please don't speak so. I am as ready now as ever to obey your slightest behest." " Then, my darling, don't carry this child. You are not strong, and I fear will do yourself an injury. She can walk very well now, and if necessary to have her carried, call upon me, her father, or one of the servants ; Aunt Chloe, Uncle Joe, Dinah, one or another is almost ' sure to be at hand." " I will try to follow out your wishes, papa. Edward has said the same thing to me, and no doubt you are right ; but it is so sweet to have her in my arms, and so bard to refuse when she asks to be taken up." ELSIE'S WOMANHOOD. 217 " You mustn't ask mamma to carry you," Mr. Dins- more said to the child, caressing her tenderly as he spoke; "poor mamma is not strong, and you will make her sick." . They had seated themselves side by side upon a sofa. The little one turned a piteous look upon her mother, and with a quivering lip and fast-filling eyes, said, " Mamma sick? Elsie tiss her, make her well? " "No, my precious pet, mother isn't sick; so don't cry," Elsie answered, receiving the offered kiss, as the babe left her grandfather's knee and crept to her ; then the soft little hands patted her on the cheeks and the chubby arms clung about her neck. But catching sight, through the open window, of her father coming up the garden walk, wee Elsie hastily let go her hold, slid to the floor and ran to meet him. Mr. Dinsmore seemed again lost in gloomy thought. "Papa, dear, wh?.t is it? What troubles you so?" asked Elsie, moving closer to him, and leaning affection- ately on his shoulder, while the soft eyes sought his with a wistful, anxious expression. He put his arm about her, and just touching her cheek with his lips, heaved a deep sigh. " The papers bring us bad news. Lincoln is elected." " Ah well, let us not borrow trouble, papa ; perhaps he may prove a pretty good president after all." " Just what I think," remarked Mr. Travilla, who had come in with his little girl in his arms at the moment of Mr. Dinsmore's announcement, and seated himself on his wife's other aide; " let us wait and see. All may go right with our country yet.'' 218 ELSIE'S WOMANHOOD. Mr. Dinsmore shook his head sadly. " I wish I could think so, but in the past history of all repub- lics whenever section has arrayed itself against section the result has been either a peaceful separation, or civil war ; nor can we hope to be an exception to the rule." I "I should mourn over either," said Elsie. "lean- not bear to contemplate the dismemberment of our great, glorious old Union. Foreign nations would never respect either portion as they do the undivided whole." "No; and I can't believe either section can be so mad as to go that length," remarked her husband, fond- ling his baby daughter as he spoke. " The North, of course, does not desire a separation ; but if the South goes, will be pretty sure to let her go peaceably." " I doubt it, Travilla; and even if a peaceable separa- tion should be allowed at first, so many causes of con- tention would result (such as the control of the naviga- tion of the Mississippi, the refusal of the North to restore runaway negroes, etc., etc.), that it would soon come to blows." " Horace, you frighten me," said Rose, who had come in while they were talking. The color faded from Elsie's cheek, and a shudder ran over her, as she turned eagerly to hear her husband, reply. ! " Why cross the bridge before we come to it, Dins- more?" he answered cheerily, meeting his wife's anxious look with one so fond and free from care, that her heart grew light; " surely there'll be no fighting where there ELSIE'S WOMANHOOD. 235 her, "I have neither the right nor the wish to interfere with you and your children ; especially when your hus- band approves of your management. I only fear you may suffer loss. How easy a valuable ring may slip through the little fingers and roll away into some crevice where it would never be found." "I'm afraid it is rather hazardous," she acknowledged. "Mammy, sit close to Elsie and keep a careful watch, lest she should drop something." " I begin to think there's truth in the old saw, ' It's hard to teach old dogs new tricks,' " remarked Mr. Tra- villa, with a comically rueful face. " I've a mind to give it up. What do you say, Dinsmore ? " " That you wouldn't make a good soldier, if you are so easily conquered, Travilla." " Oh, fighting's another thing, but I'll per-r/ere as long as you do; unless I find I'm wearying my teacher." " Perhaps you would learn faster with a better teacher," said Elsie, "I'm sure the fault is not in the scholar; be- cause I know he's bright and talented." "Ah ! then I shall try harder than ever, to save your reputation ; but take a recess now, for here comes my boy, reaching out his arms to papa. Bring him here, Dinah. Papa's own boy, he looks beautiful and as bright as the day." " Mamma thinks he's a very handsome mixture of papa and grandpa," Elsie said, leaning over to caress the babe, now crowing in his father's arms. "I'm afraid he inherits too much of his grandpa's temper," remarked Mr. Dinsmore, but wr'th a glance of loving pride bestowed upon the beautiful babe. 236 ELSIE'S WOMANHOOD. '' I, for one, have no objection, provided he learns to control it as well," said Mr. Travilla; "he will make the finer character." Little Elsie had grown weary of her play. "Put box way now, mammy," she said, getting up from her cushion; "wee Elsie don't want any more. Mamma take; Elsie so tired." The baby voice sounded weak and languid, and totter- ing to her mother's side, she almost fell into her lap. "Oh, my baby! my precious darling, what is it?" cried Elsie, catching her up in her arms. "Papa ! Ed- ward ! she is dying ! " For the face had suddenly lost all its color ; the eyes were rolled upward, the tiny fists tightly clenched, and the little limbs had grown stiff and rigid on the mother's lap. Mr. Travilla hastily set down the babe, and turned to look at his little girl, his face full of alarm and distress. Mr. Dinsmore sprang to his daughter's side, and meet- ing her look of agony, said soothingly, " No, dearest, it is a spasm, she will soon be over it." "Yes; don't be so terrified, dear child," said Rose, dropping her work and hurrying to Elsie's assistance ; " they are not unusual with children; I have seen both May and Daisy have them. Quick, Aunt Chloe ! a cloth dipped in spirits of turpentine, to lay over the stomach and bowels, and another to put between her shoulders. It is the best thing we can do till we get a doctor here. But, ah, see ! it is already passing away." That was true ; the muscles were beginning to relax, and in another moment the eyes resumed their natural ELSIE'S WOMANHOOD. 237 appearance, the hands wei c no longer clenched, and a low plaintive, "Mamma," came from the little lips. "Mamma is here, darling," Elsie said, amid her fast- dropping tears, covering the little wan face with kisses, as she held it to her bosom. " Thank God ! she is still ours ! " exclaimed the fa- ther, almost under his breath ; then, a little louder, " Elsie, dear wife, I shall go at once for Dr. Channing, an English physician who has been highly recommended to me." " Do, dear husband, and urge him to come at once," she answered, in a tone full of anxiety. He left the room, returning with the physician within half an hour, to find the little girl asleep on her mother's breast. " Ah, I hope she is not going to be very ill," said the doctor, taking gentle hold of her tiny wrist. " She seems easy now, and her papa tells me the spasm was of very short duration." She woke, apparently free from suffering, allowed her papa to take her, that mamma's weary arms might rest, and in the course of the afternoon even got down from his knee, and played about the room for a little while, but languidly, and was soon quite willing to be nursed again, "papa, grandpa, and Mamma Rose," as she lov- ingly called her young and fair step-grandmother, taking turns in trying to relieve and amuse her. She was a most affectionate, unselfish little creature, and though longing to lay again her weary little head on mamma's breast, and feel the enfolding of mamma's dear arms, gave up without a murmur, when told that "poor 238 ELSIE'S WOMANHOOD. mamma was tired with holding so big a girl for so long," and quietly contented herself with the attention of the others. As the early evening hour which was the children's bed- time drew near, Elsie took her little girl again on her lap. " Mamma, pease talk to Elsie," pleaded the sweet baby voice, while the curly head fell languidly upon her shoul- der, and a tiny hand, hot and dry with fever, softly patted her cheek. " What about, darling? " " 'Bout Jesus, mamma. Do He love little chillens ? do he love wee Elsie ? " The gentle voice that answered was full of tears. " Yes, darling, mamma and papa, and dear grandpa too, love you more than tongue can tell, but Jesus loves you better still." " Mamma, may Elsie go dere? " " Where, my precious one ? " "To Jesus, mamma; Elsie want to go see Jesus." A sharp pang shot through the young mother's heart, and her arms tightened their clasp about the little form, while the hot tears chased each other adown her cheeks. One fell on the child's face. } "What! mamma ky? Mamma don't want Elsie to go see Jesus ? Den Elsie will stay wis mamma and papa. Don't ky, Elsie's mamma; " and feebly the little hand tried to wipe away her mother's tears. With a silent prayer for help to control her emotion, Elsie cleared her voice, and began in low, sweet tones the old, old story of Jesus and His love, His birth, His life, His death. ELSIE'S WOMANHOOD. 239 " Mamma, Elsie do love Jesus!" were the earnest words that followed the close of the narrative. " Say prayer now, and go bed. Elsie feel sick. Mamma, stay wis Elsie?" " Yes, my precious one, mamma will stay close beside her darling as long as she wants her. You may say yout little prayer kneeling in mamma's lap ; and then she will sing you to sleep." "Jesus like Elsie do dat way ? " "Yes, darling, when she's sick." Mamma's arms encircled and upheld the little form, the chubby hands were meekly folded, and the soft cheek rested against hers, while the few words of prayer faltered on the baby tongue. Then, the posture changed to a more restful one, the sweet voice still full of tears, and often trembling with emotion, sang the little one to sleep. Laying her gently in her crib, Elsie knelt beside it, sending up a petition with strong crying and tears ; not that the young life might be spared, unless the will of God were so, but that she might be enabled to say, with all her heart, " Thy will be done." Ere she had finished, her husband knelt beside her ask- ing the same for her and himself. They rose up together, and folded to his heart, she wept out her sorrow upon his breast. "You are very weary, little wife," he said tenderly, passing his hand caressingly over her hair and pressing bis Mps again and again to the heated brow. "It is rest to lay my head here," she whispered. " But you must not stand ; " and sitting down he 240 ELSIE'S WOMANHOOD. drew her to the sofa, still keeping his arm about her waist. "Bear up, dear wife," he said, "we will hope our precious darling is not very- ill." She told him of the child's words, and the sad fore- boding that had entered her own heart. "While there is life there is hope, dearest," he said, with assumed cheerfulness. " Let us not borrow trouble. Does He not say to us, as to the disciples of old, ' It is I, be not afraid ' ? " " Yes ; and she is His ; only lent to us for a season ; and we dare not rebel should He see fit to recall His own," she answered, amid her tears. "Oh, Edward, I am so glad we indulged her this morning in her wish to play with my jewels ! " "Yes; she is the most precious of them all," he said with emotion. Aunt Chloe, drawing near, respectfully suggested that it might be well to separate the children, in case the little girl's illness should prove to be contagious. "That is a wise thought, mammy," said Elsie. " Is it not, Edward ? ' ' " Yes, wife; shall we take our little daughter to our own bedroom, and leave Eddie in possession of the nurs- ery?" " Yes, I will never leave her while she is ill." Weeks of anxious solicitude, of tenderest, most care- ful nursing, followed ; for the little one was very ill, and for some time grew worse hour by hour. For days there was little hope that her life would be spared, and a solemn silence reigned through the house; even the romping, fun-loving Horace and Rosie, awe-struck into ELSIE'S WOMANHOOD. 241 stillness, and often shedding tears Horace in private, fearing to be considered unmanly, but Rosie openly and without any desire of concealment at the thought that the darling of the house was about to pass away from earth. Rose was filled with grief, the father, and grand- father were almost heart-broken. But the mother ! That first night she had scarcely closed an eye, but con- tinually her heart was going up in earnest supplications for grace and strength to meet this sore trial with patience, calmness, and submission. And surely the prayer was heard and answered ; day and night she was with her suffering little one, watching beside its crib, or holding it in her arms, soothing it with tender words of mother love, or singing, in low sweet tones, of Jesus and the happy land. Plenty of excellent nurses were at hand, more than willing to relieve her of her charge ; but she would re- linquish it to no one ; except when compelled to take a little rest that her strength might not utterly fail her. Even then she refused to leave the room, but lay where the first plaintive cry, " Mamma," would rouse her and bring her instantly to her darling's side. At times the big tears might be seen coursing down her cheek, as she gazed mournfully upon the baby face so changed from what it was ; but voice and manner were quiet and composed. Her husband was almost constantly at her side, shar- ing the care, the grief and anxiety, and the nursing, so far as she would let him. Rose, too, and Mr. Dinsmore, were there every hour of the day, and often in the night, 242 ELSIE'S WOMANHOOD. scarcely less anxious and grief-stricken than the parents, and Mr. Dinsmore especially, trembling for the life and health of the mother as well as the child. At length came a day when all knew and felt that wee Elsie was at the very brink of the grave, and the little thread of life might snap asunder at any mo- ment. She lay on her pillow on her mother's lap, the limbs shrunken to half their former size, the face, but lately so beautiful with the bloom of health, grown wan and thin, with parched lips and half-closed, dreamy eyes. Mr. Travilla sat close beside them, with cup and spoon in hand, now and then moistening the dry lips. Chloe, who had stationed herself a little behind her mistress to be within call, was dropping great tears on the soldier'? stocking in her hand. Mr. Dinsmore came softly in and stood by the little group, his features working with emotion. " My darling," he murmured, "my precious daughter, may God comfort and sustain you." "He does, papa," she answered in low, calm tones, as she raised her head and lifted her mournful eyes to his face; "His consolations are not small in the trying hour." "You can give her up?" he asked, in a choking voice, looking with anguish upon the wasted features of his almost idolized grandchild. "Yes, papa if He sees fit to take her; 'twere but selfishness to want to keep her here. So safe, so happy will she be in Jesus' arms." ELSIE'S WOMANHOOD. 343 A*lr. Travilla's frame shook with emotion, and Mr. Dinsmore was not less agitated; but the mother was still calm and resigned. No sound had come from those little lips for hours ; but now there was a faintly murmured " Mamma ! " "Yes, darling, mamma is here," Elsie answered, softly pressing a kiss on the white brow; "what shall mamma do for her baby? " "Jesus loves wee Elsie?" and the dreamy eyes m> closed and looked up into the sweet pale face bent so lovingly over her. " Elsie so glad. Mamma sing ' Happy land.' " The young mother's heart was like to burst, but with a silent prayer for strength, she controlled herself and sang low and sweetly, and even as she sang a change came over the child, and it fell into a deep, calm, natural sleep that lasted for hours. All the time on the mother's lap, her eyes scarce moving from the dear little face; her breath almost suspended, lest that life-giving slumber should be broken. In vain husband and father in turn entreated to be allowed to relieve her. "No, oh no!" she whispered. "I cannot have her disturbed; it might cost her life." This was the turning point in the disease, and from that time the little one began to amend. But very weak and frail, she was still in need of weeks of continued tender, careful nursing. " Mamma's lap " was the place preferred above all oth' ers; but patient and unselfish, she yielded without i. murmur when invited to the arms of papa, grandpa, 244 ELSIE'S WOMANHOOD. Rose, or nurse, and told that "dear mamma was tired and needed rest." Elsie was indeed much reduced in health and strength ; but love, joy, and thankfulness helped her to recuperate rapidly. CHAPTER TWENTY-THIRD. What fates impose, that men must needs abide. It boots not to resist both wind and tide." SHAKESPEARE'S HENRY VI. FROM the time of Mr. Lincoln's election Walter Dins- more's home had been made very uncomfortable to him; after the fall of Sumter it was well-nigh unen- durable. Never were two brothers more entirely unlike than he and Arthur; the latter, selfish, proud, haughty, self- willed, passionate, and reckless of consequences to him- self or others ; the former sweet-tempered, amiable, and affectionate, but lacking in firmness and self-reliance. Poor fellow ! his heart was divided ; on the one side were home, parents, friends, and neighbors, native State and section ; on the other, pride in the great, powerful Union he had hitherto called his country, love for the old flag as the emblem of its greatness and symbol of Revolutionary glory ; and perhaps more potent than all the wishes and entreaties of a Northern girl who had won his heart and promised him her hand. One April morning Walter, who had overslept himself, having been up late the night before, was roused from his slumbers by a loud hurrah coming from the veranda below. He recognized his father's voice, Arthur's, and that of one of the latter's particular friends, a hot seces- sionist residing in the adjacent city. 24S 346 ELSIE'S WOMANHOOD. There seemed a great tumult in the house, running to and fro, loud laughter, repeated hurrahs and voices among which his mother's and Enna's were easily dis- tinguished talking in high, excited chorus. " So Fort Sumter has fallen, and war is fairly inaugu- rated," he sighed to himself, as he rose and began to dress. " It can mean nothing else." "Glorious news, Wai ! " cried Arthur, catching sight of him as he descended the stairs; "Fort Sumter has fallen and Charleston is jubilant. Here, listen while I read the despatch." Walter heard it in grave silence, and at the close merely inquired how the news had come so early. "Johnson brought it; has gone on now to Ashlands with it ; says the city's in a perfect furor of delight. But you, it seems, care nothing about it," Arthur con- cluded with a malignant sneer. " Not a word of rejoicing over this glorious victory" cried Enna angrily. " Of seven thousand over seventy-five ? " "If I were papa, I'd turn you out of the house; " she exclaimed still more hotly. "Walter, I have ne patience with you," said his father. " To think that son of mine should turn against his own country ! " he added, with a groan. "No, father, I could never do that," Walter answered with emotion. "It looks very much like it the utter indifference with which you receive this glorious news ! " cried Mrs. Dinsmore with flashing eyes. " I'm positively ashamed of you." ELSIE'S WOMANHOOD. 247 "No, mother, not with indifference, far from it; for it inaugurates a war that will drench the land with blood." " Nonsense ! the North will never fight. A race of shop-keepers fighting for a sentiment, poh ! But come to breakfast, there's the bell." ^ " Better," says Solomon, "is a dinner of herbs where love is, than a stalled ox and hatred therewith." The luxurious breakfast at Roselands was partaken of with very little enjoyment that morning ; by Walter especially, who had to bear contempt and ridicule ; threats also : he was called a Yankee, coward, poltroon, traitor; and threatened with disinheritance and denouncement unless he would declare himself for the Confederacy and enlist in its army. The meal was but half over when he rose with flashing eyes, pale face, and quivering lips. " I am neither a traitor nor a coward," he said between his clenched teeth, " as perhaps time may prove to the sorrow of a father and mother, sister and brother, who can so use one who ill deserves such treatment at their hands." And turning, he stalked proudly from the room. Enna was beginning a sneering remark, but her father stopped her. " Hush ! we have been too hard on the lad; he was always slower than Art about making up his mind, and I've no doubt will turn out all right in the end." Soon after breakfast the father and mother had a pri- vate talk on the subject, and agreed to try coaxing and entreaties. "Wai always had a warm heart," remarked Mr. Dins 248 ELSIE'S WOMANHOOD. more finally, "and I dare say can be reached mote readily through that." " Yes, he was your favorite always, while you have been very hard upon poor Arthur's youthful follies ; but you see now which is the more worthy of the two." Mr. Dinsmore shook his head. "Not yet, wife; 'tisn't always the braggart that turns out bravest in time of trial." " Yes, we shall see," she answered, with a slight toss of her haughty head. " I trust no son of mine will prove iimself so cowardly as to run away from his country in her time of need, on whatever pretext." And having winged this shaft, perceiving with pleasure that her husband winced slightly under it, she sailed from the room, ascending the stairway, and presently paused before the door of Walter's dressing-room. It was slightly ajar ;; and pushing it gently open she en- tered without knocking. He stood leaning against the mantel, his tali erect figure, the perfection of manly grace, his eyes fixed thoughtfully upon the carpet, and his fine, open, ex, pressive countenance full of a noble sadness. There was something of motherly pride in the glance that met his as he looked up at the sound of Mrs. Dins- more's step. Starting forward, he gallantly handed her to a seat : then stood respectfully waiting for what she had to say. "Walter, my dear boy," she began; "your father and I think we were all a trifle hard on you this morning." He colored slightly but made no remark, and she went ELSIE'S WOMANHOOD. 749 on. " Of course we can't believe it possible that a son of ours will ever show himself a coward ; but it is very trying to us, very mortifying, to have you holding back in this way till all our neighbors and friends begin to hint that you are disloyal to your native State, and look scorn- ful and contemptuous at the very mention of your name." Walter took a turn or two across the room, and com- ing back to her side, " Mother," said he, "you know it is my nature to be slow in deciding any matter of im- portance, and this is the weightiest one that ever I had to consider. Men much older and wiser than I are find- ing it a knotty question to which their loyalty is due, State or General Government; where allegiance to the one ends, and fealty to the other begins." "There is no question in my mind," she interrupted, angrily. "Of course your allegiance is due to your State ; so don't let me hear any more about that. Your father and brother never hesitated for a moment ; and it would become you to be more ready to be guided by them." "Mother," he said, with a pained look, "you forget that I am no longer a boy ; and you would be the first to despise a man who could not form an opinion of his own. All I ask is time to decide this question and another." " Pray what may that be? whether you will break with Miss Aller, 1 presume," she retorted, sneeringly. "No, mother," he answered with dignity; "there is no question in my mind in regard to that. Mary and I are pledged to each other, and nothing but death can part us." 259 ELSIE'S WOMANHOOD. "And " (fiercely) " you would marry her, though she is ready to cheer on the men who are coming to invade our homes and involve us in the horrors of a servile in. virrection ! " "I think it is hardly an hour since I heard you say the North would not fight ; and since we have shown our determination in capturing Sumter, the next news would be that we were to be allowed to go in peace. You may be right ; I hope you are ; but the fellows I know in the North are as full of pluck as ourselves, and I fear there is a long, fierce, bloody struggle before us." He stood before her with folded arms and grave, earnest face, his eyes meeting hers unflinchingly. " And ere I rush into it I want to know that I am ready for death and for judgment." " No need to hesitate on that account," she said, with a contemptuous smile ; " you've always been a remark- ably upright young man, and I'm sure are safe enough. Besides, I haven't a doubt that those who die in defense of their country go straight to heaven." He shook his head. " I have been studying the Bible a good deal of late, and I know that that would never save my soul." "This is some of Horace's and Elsie's work; I wish they would attend to their own affairs and let you and others alone." And she rose and swept angrily from the room. Walter did not appear at dinner, nor was he seen again for several days ; but as such absences were not infrequent he having undertaken a sort of general over- sight of both the Oaks and Ion this excited no alarm. WOMANHOOD. 251 The first day in fact was spent at Ion ; the next he X>de over to the Oaks. Mrs. Murray always made him rery comfortable, and was delighted to have the oppor- tunity ; for the place was lonely for her in the absence of the family. She was on the veranda as he rode up that tnorning attended by his servant. "Ah, Mr. Walter," she cried, "but I'm glad to see you ! You're a sight for sair een, sir. I hope ye've come to stay a bit." He had given the reins to his servant and dismounted. "Yes," he said, shaking hands with her, "for two ot three days, Mrs. Murray." "That's gude news, sir. Will ye come in and take a bite or sup o' something? " "Thank you, not no\v. I'll just sit here for a mo- ment. The air is delightful this morning." "So it is, sir. And do ye bring ony news frae our friends in Naples? " "No; I have heard nothing since I saw you last." " But what's this, Mr. Walter, that I hear the servants laying aboot a fight wi' the United States troops ? " "Fort Sumter has fallen, Mrs. Murray. There's an account of the whole affair," he added, taking a news- paper from his pocket and handing it to her. She received it eagerly, and with a hearty thanks. "I am going out into the grounds," he said, and talked away, leaving her to its perusal. He strolled down a green alley, inspected it, the lawns, he avenue, the flower and vegetable gardens, to see that ill were in order ; held a few minutes' conversation with he head gardener, maki?ig some suggestions and bestow- 252 ELSIE'S WOMANHOOD. ing deserved praise of his faithful performance of his duties ; then wandering on, at length seated himself in Elsie's bower, and took from his breast-pocket where he had constantly carried it of late a small morocco- bound, gilt-edged volume. He sat there a long time, reading and pondering with grave, anxious face, it may be asking for heavenly guid- ance too, for his eyes were now and then uplifted and his lips moved. The next day and the next he spent at the Oaks, pass- ing most of his time in solitude, either in the least fre- quented parts of the grounds, or the lonely and deserted rooms of the mansion. Walter had always been a favorite with Mrs. Murray. She had a sort of motherly affection for him, and watch- ing him furtively, felt sure that he had some heavy mental trouble. She waited and watched silently, hoping that he would confide in her and let her sympathize, if she could do nothing more. On the evening of the third day he came in from the grounds with a brightened countenance, his little book in his hand. She was on the veranda looking out for him to ask if he was ready for his tea. He met her with a smile. "Is it gude news, Mr. Walter?" she asked, thinking of the distracted state of the country. "Yes, Mrs. Murray, I think you will call it so. I have been searching here," and he held up the little volume, " for the pearl of great price ; and I have found it." " Dear bairn, I thank God for ye ! " she exclaimed vith emotion. " It's gude news indeed ! " ELSIE'S WOMANHOOD, *< 2 "I cannot think how I've been so blind," he went off in earnest tones ; "it seems now so simple and easy-^- just to believe in Jesus Christ, receive His offered pardon, His righteousness put upon me, the cleansing of His blood shed for the remission of sins, and trust my all to Him for time and eternity. Now I am ready to meet death on the battle-field, if so it must be." " But, O Mr. Walter, I hope you'll be spared that, and live to be a good soldier of Christ these many years." They were startled by the furious galloping of a horse coming up the drive ; and the next moment Arthur drew rein before the door. " Walter; so you're here, as I thought ! I've come for you. Lincoln has called for seventy-five thousand troops to defend the capital ; but we all know what that means an invasion of the South. The North's a unit now, and so is the South. Davis has called for volunteers, and the war-cry is resounding all over the land. We're raising a company : I'm appointed captain, and you lieutenant. Come; if you hesitate now you'll repent it: father says he'll disown you forever." Arthur's utterance was fierce and rapid, but now he was compelled to pause for a breath, and Walter answered with excitement in his tones also. " Of course if it has come to that, I will not hesitate to defend my native soil, my home, my parents." "All right ; come on then ; we leave to-night." Walter's horse was ordered at once, and in a few moments the brothers were galloping away side by side. 254 ELSIE'S WOMANHOOD. Mrs. Murray looked after them with a sigh. "Ah me! the poor laddies! will they die on the battle-field? Ah, wae's me, but war's an awfu' thing ! " At Roselands all was bustle and excitement, every one eager, as it seemed, to hasten the departure of the young men. But when everything was ready and the final adieus must be spoken, the mother embraced them with tears and sobs, and even Enna's voice faltered and her eyes grew moist. Mounting, they rode rapidly down the avenue, each followed by his own servant and out at the great gate. Walter wheeled his horse. "One last look at the old home, Art," he said; "we may never see it again." " Always sentimental, Wai," laughed Arthur, somewhat scornfully; "but have your way." And he, too, wheeled about for a last farewell look. The moon had just risen, and by her silvery light the lordly mansion with its clustering vines, the gardens, the lawn, the shrubbery, and the grand old trees was distinctly visible. Never had the place looked more lovely. The evening breeze brought to their nostrils the delicious scent of roses in full bloom, and a nightingale poured forth a song of ravishing sweetness from a thicket hard by. ; Somehow her song seemed to go to Walter's very heart ,and a sad foreboding oppressed him as they gazed and listened for several moments, then turned their horses' heads and galloped down the road. CHAPTER TWENTY-FOURTH. " Is't death to fall for Freedom's right? He's dead alone who lacks her light." CAMPBELL. WEE ELSIE was convalescing rapidly, and the hearts