"Here are a few of the unpleasantest words that ever blotted paper."
Edward and Zoe now began to look forward to the return of the family as
a desirable event not very far in the future. They had been extremely
happy in each other during almost the whole time of separation from the
rest; but now they were hungering for a sight of "mamma's sweet face,"
and would by no means object to a glimpse of those of grandparents,
sisters, and children.
At length a letter was received, fixing the date of the intended
departure from Viamede, and stating by what train the party would
probably reach the neighboring village of Union, where carriages must be
in readiness to receive and convey them to Ion.
And now Edward and Zoe began counting the days: the little matron put on
more housewifely airs than was her wont, and was in great glee over her
preparations for a grand reception and welcoming feast to the loved
travellers.
She insisted on much cleaning and renovating, and on the day of the
arrival robbed the green-houses and conservatories for the adornment of
the house, the table, and her own person.
Edward laughingly asserted that he was almost, if not quite, as much
under her orders at that time as when left in her charge by the doctor,
and could have no peace but in showing himself entirely submissive, and
ready to carry out all her schemes and wishes.
Fairview also was getting ready to receive its master and mistress; but
the indoor preparations there were overseen by Mrs. Lacey of the
Laurels,--Edward's aunt Rose.
It was the last of April: lovely spring weather had come, and the head
gardeners and their subordinates of both places found much to do in
making all trim and neat against the expected arrival of the respective
owners; and of these matters Edward took a general oversight.
He and Zoe were up earlier than their wont on the morning of the
long-looked-for day, wandering about the gardens before breakfast.
"How lovely every thing looks!" exclaimed Zoe, in delight. "I am sure
mamma will be greatly pleased, and praise you to your heart's content,
Cuff," she added, turning to the gardener at work near by.
"Ya'as, Miss Zoe," he answered, with a broad grin of satisfaction;
"dat's what I'se been a workin' for, an' spects to hab sho', kase Miss
Elsie, she doan' nebber grudge nuffin' in de way ob praise nor ob wages,
when yo's done yo' bes', ob co'se; an' dis chile done do dat, sho's yo'
bawn."
"Yes, I'm sure you have, Cuff," said Edward kindly: "the flowers look
very flourishing; there's not a dead leaf or a weed to be seen anywhere;
the walks are clean and smooth as a floor; nothing amiss anywhere, so
far as I can perceive."
They moved on, walking slowly, and inspecting carefully as they went,
yet finding nothing to mar their satisfaction.
They had reached the front of the house, and were about to go in, when a
boy on horseback came cantering up the avenue, and handed a telegram to
Edward.
Tearing it hastily open, "From grandpa," he said. "Ah! they will be here
by the next train!"
"Half a day sooner than they or we expected," cried Zoe, half joyfully,
half in dismay, struck with a momentary fear that her preparations could
not be quite complete in season.
Edward hastened to re-assure her. "Altogether, good news, isn't it?" he
said. "We can be quite ready, I am sure, and will escape some hours of
waiting; while they will gain time for rest and refreshment before the
arrival of the family party who are to gather here from the Oaks,
Roselands, the Laurels, and the Pines."
"Oh, yes, yes! it is ever so nice! and I'm as glad as I can be," she
cried rapturously. "Now let us make haste to get our breakfast, and then
attend to the finishing touches needed by the house and our own
persons."
"Stay," said Edward, detaining her as she was starting up the steps into
the veranda. "We should send word to Fairview, but it will be time
enough after breakfast. Suppose we ride over there immediately upon
leaving the table, and carry the news ourselves? The air and exercise
will do you good."
"It would be very nice," she returned meditatively; "but I'm afraid I
shall hardly have time."
"Yes, you will," he said. "You can give your orders, and let Christine
and Aunt Dicey see them carried out."
"But I want my taste consulted in the arrangement of the flowers," she
objected.
"Plenty of time for that after we get back," he said. "And I want your
help in deciding whether every thing is exactly as it should be in the
grounds at Fairview. Shall I order the horses?"
"Yes. I'll go, of course, if you wish it, and enjoy it greatly, I know."
They were very gay over their breakfast and during their ride; for they
were young, healthy, happy in each other; the morning air was delicious,
and not a cloud was to be perceived in either the natural sky above
their heads, or in that of their future; all was bright and joyous, and
they seemed to have naught to do with sorrow or care, or any of the
evils that oppressed the hearts and darkened the lives of many of their
fellow-creatures.
Their tidings were received with joy by the retainers at Fairview,
nearly every thing being in readiness for the reception of its master
and mistress.
Edward and Zoe had agreed that it was not at all necessary to inform the
expected guests of the evening of the change in the hour for the arrival
of the home-coming party they intended to welcome.
"The meeting will be quite as early as anticipated," remarked Edward;
"and it will do no harm for mamma and the others to have a chance to
rest a little before seeing so many."
"They will enjoy themselves all the better, I'm sure," said Zoe.
They were cantering homeward as they talked. Arrived there, Zoe set to
work at the pleasant task of adorning the house--"mamma's" boudoir in
particular--with beautiful and sweet-scented flowers, and contrived to
be delightfully busy in their arrangement till some little time after
Edward had gone with the carriages to meet and bring home the
travellers.
All came directly to Ion, except the Fairview family, who sought their
own home first, but promised to be present at the evening festivities.
The journey had been taken leisurely; and no one seemed fatigued but the
little convalescents, who were glad to be put immediately to bed.
"Mamma, dear, dearest mamma!" cried Zoe, as the two clasped each other
in a close embrace. "I am so, so glad to see you!"
"Tired of housekeeping, little woman?" Elsie asked, with an arch look
and smile.
"No, mamma, not that, though willing enough to resign my position to
you," was the gay rejoinder. "But my delight is altogether because you
are so dear and sweet, that everybody must be the happier for your
presence."
"Dear child, I prize and fully return your affection," Elsie said in
reply.
For each one, Zoe had a joyous and affectionate greeting, till it came
to Lulu's turn.
At her she glanced doubtfully for an instant, then gave her a hearty
kiss, saying to herself, "Though she did behave so badly, I'm sure she
had a good deal of provocation."
Lulu had noted the momentary hesitation, and flushed hotly under it; but
the kiss set all right, and she returned it as warmly as it was given.
"It seems nice to see you and uncle Edward again, aunt Zoe!" she said,
"and nice to get back to Ion, though Viamede is so lovely."
"Yes," chimed in Rosie. "Viamede is almost an earthly paradise, but Ion
is the homiest home of the two."
Lulu had been on her very best behavior ever since the termination of
the controversy between Mr. Dinsmore and herself in regard to her
tuition by Signor Foresti; and she had returned to Ion full of good
resolutions, promising herself, that, if permitted to continue to live
at Ion, she would henceforward be submissive, obedient, and very
determined in her efforts to control her unruly temper.
But was she to be allowed to stay there? No objection had been raised by
any of the family; but remembering her father's repeated warning, that,
if she proved troublesome to these kind friends, he would feel compelled
to take her away from Ion, and send her to a boarding-school, she
awaited his decision with much secret apprehension.
It was quite too soon to look for a response to her confession, written
from Magnolia Hall, or a letter from him to her mamma, grandma Elsie, or
grandpa Dinsmore, giving his verdict in regard to her; and, at times,
she found the suspense very hard to bear.
Thus far, Evelyn Leland had been the sole confidant of her doubts,
fears, and anxieties on the subject; not even Max having been made
acquainted with the contents of either her father's letter to her, or
her reply to it.
She had managed to conceal her uneasiness from him, and also from
grandma Elsie and Violet; the time and attention of both ladies being
much occupied with the care of the little invalids.
But, on the evening of this day, Grace and baby Elsie were fast asleep,
the one in bed, the other in her dainty crib, at an early hour; and
Violet bethought her of Lulu in connection with the expected assembling
of a large family party.
"I must see that the child is suitably attired," she said to herself,
and, deferring her own toilet, went at once to the little girl's room.
She found her already dressed,--suitably and tastefully too,--and
sitting by a window in an attitude of dejection, her elbow on the sill,
her head on her hand; but she was not looking out; her eyes were
downcast, and her countenance was sad.
"What is the matter, Lulu, dear?" Violet asked in gentle tones, as she
drew near, and laid her soft white hand caressingly on the bowed head:
"are you sorry to be at home again?"
"Ok, no, no, mamma Vi! it's not that. I should be very glad to get back,
if I were only sure of being allowed to stay," Lulu answered, lifting
her head, and hastily wiping a tear out of the corner of her eye. "But
I--I'm dreadfully afraid papa will say I can't; that I must be sent away
somewhere, because of having been so disobedient and obstinate."
"I hope not, dear," Violet said: "you have been so good ever since you
gave up, and consented to do as grandpa wished."
"Thank you for saying that, mamma Vi. I have been trying with all my
might,--asking God to help me too," she added low and reverentially;
"but papa doesn't know that, and he has been very near banishing me two
or three times before. Oh, I don't know how to wait to hear from him! I
wish a letter would come!"
"It is almost too soon to hope for it yet, dear child; but I trust we
may hear before very long," said Violet.
At that moment there came a little tap at the door; and the sweetest of
voices asked, "Shall I come in?"
"Oh, yes, mamma!"
"Yes, grandma Elsie!" answered the two addressed.
"I thought our little girl might like some help with her toilet for the
evening," Elsie said, advancing into the room. "But--is any thing wrong?
I think you are looking troubled and unhappy, Lulu."
Violet explained the cause; and Elsie said, very kindly, "I don't want
you sent away, Lulu, dear. No one could desire a better behaved child
than you have been of late; and I have written to your father to tell
him so, and ask that you may stay with us still. So cheer up, and hope
for the best, little girl," she added, with a smile and an affectionate
kiss.
Lulu had risen, and was standing by Elsie's side. As the latter bent
down to bestow the caress, her arms were thrown impulsively about her
neck with a glad, grateful exclamation, "O grandma Elsie! how good you
are to me! I don't know how you could want to keep me here, when I've
been so bad and troublesome so many times."
"I trust you have been so for the very last time, dear child," Elsie
responded. "Think how it will rejoice your father's heart if he learns
that you have at length conquered in the fight with your naturally
quick, wilful temper, which has been the cause of so much distress to
both him and yourself."
"I do think of it very often, grandma Elsie," Lulu returned, with a sigh
that seemed to come from the depths of her heart. "And I do want to
please papa, and make him happy: but,--oh, dear! when something happens
to make me angry, I forget all about it and my good resolutions till
it's too late; the first thing I know, I've been acting like a fury, and
disgracing myself and him."
"Yet don't be discouraged, or ever give up the fight," Elsie said.
"Persevere, using all your own strength, and asking help from on high,
and you will come off conqueror at last."
About the same time that this little scene was enacting at Ion, Elsie
Leland, passing the door of Evelyn's room, thought she heard a low sob
coming from within.
She paused and listened. The sound was repeated, and she tapped lightly
on the door. There was no answer; and opening it, she stole softly in.
Evelyn sat in an easy-chair at the farther side of the room, her face
hidden in her hands, an open letter lying in her lap.
"My poor child! Is it bad news?" Elsie asked, going up to the little
girl, and touching her hair caressingly.
"It is heart-breaking to me, aunt Elsie; but read and judge for
yourself," Evelyn replied, in a voice choking with sobs; and taking up
the letter, she put it into her aunt's hand.
Elsie gave it a hasty perusal, then, tossing it indignantly aside, took
the young weeper in her arms, bestowing upon her tender caresses and
soothing words.
"It is hard, very hard for you, dear, I know; it would be for me in your
place; but we must just try to make the best of it."
"Yes," sobbed Evelyn; "but I could hardly feel more fully orphaned if my
mother were dead. And papa has not been gone a year. Oh, how could she!
how could she! You see, aunt Elsie, she talks of my joining her as soon
as I am my own mistress; but how can I ever think of it now?"
"We--your uncle and I--would be very loath to give you up, darling; and,
if you can only be content, I think you may always have a happy home
here, with us," Elsie said, with another tender caress.
"Dear auntie, you and uncle have made it a very happy home to me,"
returned Evelyn gratefully, wiping away her tears as she spoke, and
forcing a rather sad sort of smile. "I should be as sorry to leave it
as you could possibly be to have me do so."
Evelyn was of a very quiet temperament, rarely indulging in bursts of
emotion of any kind; and Elsie soon succeeded in restoring her to
calmness, though her eyes still showed traces of tears; and her
expressive features again wore the look of gentle sadness that was their
wont in the first weeks of her sojourn at Fairview, but which had
gradually changed to one of cheerfulness and content.
"Now, Eva, dear, it is time we were getting ready for our drive to Ion,"
Elsie said. "Shall I help you change your dress?"
"I--I think, if you will excuse me, auntie," Evelyn returned, with
hesitation, "I should prefer to stay at home. I'm scarcely in the mood
for merry-making."
"Of course, you shall do just as you like, dear child," was the kindly
response; "but it is only to be a family party, and you need not be
mixed up with any fun or frolic,--I don't suppose there will be any
thing of the kind going on,--and you will probably enjoy a private chat
with your bosom-friend, Lulu. You know, there are plenty of corners
where you can get together by yourselves. I think you would find it
lonely staying here, and Lulu would not half enjoy her evening without
you."
"You are right, auntie: I will go," Evelyn answered, more cheerfully
than she had spoken since reading her letter. "I will dress at once,
but shall not need any help except advice about what I shall wear."
Elsie gave it, and, saying the carriage would be at the door in half an
hour, went back to her own apartments, to attend to the proper adornment
of her own pretty person.
Soon after her little talk with grandma Elsie and mamma Vi, Lulu, still
unable to banish the anxiety which made her restless and uneasy,
wandered out into the shrubbery, where she presently met Max.
"I've been all round the place," he said; "and I tell you, Lu, it's in
prime order: every thing's as neat as a pin. Don't the grounds look
lovely, even after Viamede?"
"Yes," she sighed, glancing round from side to side with a melancholy
expression of countenance quite unusual with her.
"What's the matter, sis?" he asked with some surprise: "I hope you're
not sick?"
"No, I'm perfectly well," she answered; "but, the prettier the place
looks, the sorrier I feel to think I may have to go away and leave it."
"Who says you are to go away?" he demanded,--"not grandma Elsie, or
mamma Vi either, I am sure, for they're both too kind; and, in fact, I
don't believe anybody here wants to send you off."
"Maybe not," she said, "but I'll have to go if papa says so; and, O Max!
I'm so afraid he will, because of--all that--all the trouble between
grandpa Dinsmore and me about the music-lessons."
"I didn't suppose papa had been told about it?" he remarked, half
inquiringly.
"Yes," she said: "I confessed every bit of it to him in that letter I
wrote at Magnolia Hall."
"Bully for you!" cried Max heartily. "I knew you'd own up at last, like
a brick, as you are."
"O Max! you forget that mamma Vi does not approve of slang," she said.
"But I don't deserve a bit of praise for confessing, because I had to.
Papa wrote to me that he was sure I'd been misbehaving,--though nobody
had told him a single word about it,--and that I must write at once, and
tell him every thing."
"Well, I'm glad you did; and I hope he won't be hard on you, Lu. Still,
I wouldn't like to be in your place, for papa can be quite severe when
he thinks it necessary. I wouldn't fret, though," he added in a
consolatory tone, "because there's no use trying to cross the bridge
before you come to it, 'specially when you mayn't come at all."
"That's quite true, but it's a great deal easier to preach than to
practise," she said. "Maxie, would you be sorry to have me sent away?"
she asked, her voice taking on a beseeching tone.
"Why, of course I should," he said. "We've gone through a good deal
together, and you know we've always been rather fond of each other,
considering that we're brother and sister," he added laughingly. "Ah,
here comes Eva!" and he lifted his hat with a profound bow as a turn in
the walk brought them face to face with her.
"O Eva! I'm so glad you've come early!" exclaimed Lulu.
"I too," said Max; "but, if you have any secrets for each other's
private ear, I'll be off."
"Your company is always agreeable, Max," Evelyn said with a faint smile,
"and I should be sorry to drive you away."
"Thanks," he said; "but I'll have to go, for I hear grandpa Dinsmore
calling me."
He hastened to obey the call; and the two girls, each putting an arm
about the other's waist, paced to and fro along the gravel-walk.
"How is Fairview looking?" asked Lulu.
"Lovely: it couldn't be in better order, and there are a great many
flowers in bloom. One might say just the same of Ion."
"Yes: it is even prettier than Fairview, I have always thought. But
that's a sweet place too and aunt Elsie and uncle Lester are delightful
to live with. I only wish I was as sure as you are of such a sweet
home."
"Don't worry, Lu. I hope your father will let you stay on here," Evelyn
said in an affectionate tone; "but, indeed, I don't think you have any
reason to envy me."
She ended with so profound a sigh, that Lulu turned a surprised,
inquiring look upon her, asking, "Have you had any bad news, Eva? I know
you have been looking anxiously for a letter from your mother."
"Yes, it has come: I found it waiting for me at Fairview, and"--She
paused for a moment, her heart too full for speech.
"And it was bad news? Oh, I am so sorry!" said Lulu. "I hope it wasn't
that she wants you to go away from here--unless I have to go too, and we
can be together somewhere."
"No, it was not that--not now. Mamma knows that, because of the way papa
made his will, I must stay with uncle Lester till I come of age. She
talks of my going to her then; but I cannot,--oh, I never can!
for,--Lulu, she's married again, to an Italian count; and it is not a
year since my dear, dear father was taken from us."
Evelyn's voice was tremulous with pain, and she ended with a burst of
bitter weeping.
"Oh, how could she!" exclaimed Lulu. "I don't wonder you feel so about
it, Eva. A horrid Italian too!" she added, thinking of Signor Foresti.
"I'd never call him father!"
"Indeed, I've no idea of doing that," Eva said indignantly. "I only
hope he may never cross my path; and so I--feel as if my mother is lost
to me. You are far better off than I, Lulu: you have your own dear
father still living, and aunt Vi is so lovely and sweet."
"Yes, I am better off than you," Lulu acknowledged emphatically; "and if
I hadn't such a bad temper, always getting me into trouble, I'd be a
girl to be envied."