It was growing late, and Evelyn's guests, accustomed to keeping early
hours while at Crag Cottage, had nearly all retired to their rooms for
the night. But Chester Dinsmore and Lucilla Raymond were just returning
from a stroll down the river bank, and as they neared the house they
could see the captain pacing the front porch.
"There is papa now," said Lucilla. "I am afraid he will think I have
been out rather late."
"Are you afraid of a scolding?" asked Chester.
"No; I may get a gentle reproof, but nothing worse. Papa never really
scolds; but I can't bear to have him displeased with me. My dear, dear
father! I believe I give him all the love that would have been divided
between him and my mother had she lived."
"I am not surprised at that," returned Chester, "for he is certainly
worthy of it. I have learned to love and honor him myself as if I were
his own son."
"Oh, Chester, how glad I am to hear you say that!" exclaimed Lucilla.
But that ended the talk, for they were at the foot of the porch steps,
and the captain spoke, addressing them. "Ah, so here you are at last,
my dears. I was beginning to feel a trifle anxious lest something had
befallen you."
"Oh, no, father! we are all right," exclaimed Lucilla, in lively tones,
"but the bewitching moonlight and pleasant breeze tempted us to linger
longer than usual. I hope you are not vexed with us?"
"Not very seriously, daughter," he said, with a smile, "but it is high
time now that you were getting ready for your night's rest. I want you
to have plenty of that, and I know you like to be up early."
"Yes, indeed, father; for my early walks and talks with you are among
my greatest pleasures."
"Your father in the morning, your lover at night," Chester said, with
a pleasant laugh. "I'm glad and thankful, captain, that you let me have
her for something like half the time. Good-night, now! and pleasant
dreams to you both," he added, turning away and passing into the house,
hardly waiting for their return of his parting good wishes.
"Now I suppose I must say good-night and go too," Lucilla said, putting
her arms about her father's neck and looking up lovingly into his face.
"I shall take about five minutes of your society first," he returned,
smiling and patting her cheek. "I have something to tell you; something
that will, perhaps, be a little surprise to you."
"Nothing bad, I hope, father?"
"No, not exactly bad--though I must own it is something of a trial to
me. Your sister Grace has followed your bad example, and given the
first place in her heart to another; my consent has been asked, given,
and they are engaged, though not to marry for the next five years."
"Father!" exclaimed Lucilla, in a tone of utter astonishment, "to whom?
Chester's brother Frank?"
"What a guess!" laughed her father. "No; try again."
She reflected a moment, then--"It can't be Uncle Harold?" she ventured,
in a tone that seemed to say that that was hardly possible. "He is
surely much too old for her."
"Unfortunately I cannot make that objection, since there is some years'
less difference in their ages than in your Mamma Vi's and mine."
"Oh, papa! and are they really lovers, and engaged?"
"Yes; though such a match is very distasteful to me--simply on account
of the mixed-up relationship that their marriage would bring about; but
when I found the fancy and affection were mutual, I could not withhold
my consent."
"You dear father! you are always so kindly considerate of other
people's welfare and happiness," she said in tones tremulous with
emotion. "I am sure nobody ever had a kinder, better father than ours."
"It is most pleasant to have my daughter think so, whether I deserve
it or not," he said low and tenderly, holding her close to his heart
and pressing kisses on her forehead, cheek, and lips. "Now go and
make yourself ready for bed," he added, "and don't let this bit of
surprising news keep you from sleeping. I want my dear eldest daughter
fresh and bright for my entertainment in the morning."
The house being so full, Lucilla, Grace, and Evelyn shared the same
room. Grace was in bed, but not asleep as usual, Eva preparing for
rest, when Lucilla came in from her talk with her father. She glanced
at her sister, and seeing her eyes closed thought her sleeping.
"Oh, Eva!" she whispered to her friend, "do you know--have you heard
the news?"
"News? No. I have been busy about household matters, and no one has
told anything. What is it--war news?"
"No, oh, no!" glancing smilingly toward Grace; "something even more
interesting, I think, unless Max were concerned in it. It is that
we have another pair of lovers in the house--Gracie there and Uncle
Harold. I'll have to quit calling him 'uncle,' though, since he is to
be my brother one of these days."
"Is it possible! Well, he has won a prize, I think."
Grace was not asleep now; her wide open eyes were fixed upon the two
girls and her cheeks rosy with blushes. "No, it's I that have, Eva,"
she said. "I don't know how anybody so good and wise and kind could
take a fancy to poor silly little me!"
At that Lucilla ran to the bed, threw her arms about her sister, and
showered kisses upon her lips and cheeks. "You dear, dear thing! you
are neither poor nor silly," she said. "I think the only wonder is that
all the men don't fall head over ears in love with you. They certainly
would if they had good sense, taste, and discernment."
At that Grace indulged in a peal of low, soft laughter. "You funny
girl!" she said. "I am glad indeed that they are not so silly, for
what in the world could I do with so many lovers? One is quite a
plentiful supply for me."
"That's right, Gracie," exclaimed Evelyn. "I'm sure one such as mine
should be quite enough for anybody."
"Well, I'm not going to say 'Uncle Harold' any more," laughed Lucilla.
"No, he doesn't want either of us to," said Grace. "But now I suppose
both he and papa would say I must try to go at once to sleep."
"Yes; so I'll stop hugging and kissing you, and be quiet as a mouse,
getting ready for bed, so as not to keep you awake," said Lucilla,
giving her a final loving embrace, then gliding away from the bed to
the toilet table.
"Do you think Max will like it?" asked Evelyn, in an undertone.
"Yes, I do. He and Harold have always been good friends. But as papa
says, it will make an unpleasant mixture of relationships. He will be
brother-in-law to Grace besides being her own father," she added, with
a slight laugh; "yet I know very well she will always remember that he
is her father--her dearly loved and honored father."
"I am certain of it," said Evelyn; "and that she would never make the
match without her father's knowledge and consent."
"No, indeed!" responded Lucilla, turning a loving look upon the now
sleeping Grace.
Lucilla had scarcely left her father on the porch when Violet joined
him there.
"I thought it possible, Levis, that you might not object to your wife's
company in your walk here," she said in a lively tone, and slipping her
hand into his arm.
"Object, my darling, light of my eyes and joy of my heart!" he said in
a loving, mirthful tone, bending down to kiss the sweet lips. "Yours is
the sweetest companionship I know of. I should be glad to think mine
was as delightful to you."
"As I don't know how to measure either one, I can only say that it is
the most delightful of all in the world to me," she returned with a
happy laugh. Then in a somewhat graver tone, "Oh, my dear husband, you
don't know how dearly I and all your children love you! Neither Elsie
nor Ned is ever willing to go to bed without your fatherly good-night
caresses, and they always bewail the necessity for doing that when you
are away from home."
"Probably not regretting it more than their father does," he said.
"Yes, the love of my children is a highly esteemed blessing to me,
and, unfortunately, I cannot help feeling it something of a grief and
disappointment when I learn that their tenderest affection has been
transferred to another."
"Ah, you are thinking of Grace and Harold. But be comforted, my dear; I
am certain that Grace does not love her father less because Harold has
won a place in her heart. I do not love my dear mother any the less for
loving you, my dear husband, or you any the less for loving her."
"I am glad to hear it, my darling," he said, tenderly pressing the hand
she had laid in his.
"And surely we cannot blame my brother and your daughter for loving
each other when they are both so worthy of affection that no one who
knows them can help giving it to them."
"You are a special pleader, my dear," he said with a smile; "and they
hardly need one with me, for I am fond of them both--particularly of my
frail young daughter."
"Ah, and does not that cause you to rejoice that she loves, and is
beloved by, a good and successful physician?"
"That is a cause for thankfulness, my dear," he returned pleasantly.
"But shall we not go in now and retire to rest? It is growing late."
"Yes, if you have finished your evening promenade; I don't want to rob
you of that."
"I think I have taken sufficient exercise, and now prefer rest and
sleep," he answered laughingly, as he drew her on toward the doorway.
As Lucilla came tripping down the stairway the next morning, Harold was
passing through the lower hall.
"Good-morning, Lu," he said, looking up at her.
"Good-morning, Dr. Travilla," she returned demurely.
"What!" he exclaimed, "what's that you are calling me?"
"Dr. Travilla. That's your name, isn't it?"
"Yes--to strangers and people not related to me; but--you called me
'uncle' yesterday."
"But you're not my uncle, and it seems you intend to become my
brother-in-law, so----"
"So Harold without the 'uncle' would be the most appropriate name,
wouldn't it?"
"Perhaps so, if--if you won't think it disrespectful."
"Not a bit of it. Call me Harold, or I'll be very apt to call you Mrs.
Dinsmore one of these days."
They ended with a laugh and cordial handshaking, just as the captain
appeared in the outer doorway. Then they joined him in a stroll about
the grounds.
"There is a dark cloud in the east," remarked Lucilla, in a regretful
tone; "we are likely to have a rainy day, are we not, papa?"
"Yes," he said, "but it need not necessarily be an unpleasant one. We
may find plenty of indoor employment and recreations."
"Yes," said Harold, "there have been many pleasant rainy days in my
past experiences. And they are not so bad for a strong, healthy man,
even if he must go out in the rain."
"And when gardens and fields are needing rain, we long and pray for
it," added Lucilla.
"How is Grace this morning?" asked Harold.
"She was still sleeping when I left the room," replied Lucilla; "but
probably she is up and ready for the call to breakfast by this time."
"And there it is," said the captain, as the sound of the ringing of a
hand-bell came from the house; "so let us go in and not keep the others
waiting."
They met Violet and Grace in the hall as they entered, and it was
pretty to see the latter's blush and smile as Harold greeted her.
The clouds were increasing and growing darker, and before they left the
table the rain had begun to fall. So they talked of indoor occupations
and amusements.
"We might have a little fun, if everybody's willing," remarked Ned
Raymond, giving Mr. Lilburn a significant look and smile.
"Yes; little boys--big ones too--can generally get up some fun among
themselves when they try," was Cousin Ronald's answering remark,
without the slightest indication that he took Ned's hint.
"And I know Cousin Ronald is very kind about helping in that," returned
Ned insinuatingly.
"Yes, he is fond of giving pleasure to his young friends," remarked
Mrs. Lilburn, with a loving smile up into her husband's face. "I think,
Ned, he will help you to some before the day is over."
They were on the porch, for there was no wind at the moment to drive
the rain in upon them, and it was cooler there than within doors. As
Annis finished speaking there was a sudden cry of distress, seemingly
coming from the river just below. "Help! help! I shall drown! nobody
will help me!"
It was a man's voice and there was a foreign accent in the tones.
It made quite a stir in the little assembly on the porch, the lads
exclaiming: "Oh, the poor fellow! Can't we help him, Grandma Elsie?
Surely the men on the _Dolphin_ will do what they can!" But hardly were
the words spoken when another voice called out in reply to the first:
"Hould on there, me jewel, an' I'll give ye a lift. I'm the b'ye that
kin do it."
"Oh, I hope he will get him out!" cried Ned, in great excitement.
"Papa, you'll let them take him on board the yacht, won't you?"
"Certainly, if he wishes to be taken there," replied the captain, with
a smiling glance at Cousin Ronald.
Just then the second voice called out, "Here he is--the half drownded
Frenchman; an' now will the likes of yees aboord that craft take 'im in
an' dry 'im off?"
"Of course; that's exactly what the captain would do if he were here,"
answered a third voice, which sounded exactly like that of the man at
present in charge of the yacht.
"Oh, I'm glad he didn't drown!" exclaimed Elsie Raymond, with a sigh of
relief.
"I presume such people don't often drown, Elsie dear," laughed her
mother.
"Oh, mamma, I often hear of people drowning," said the little girl.
"And, Uncle Harold, don't they need a doctor when they are nearly
drowned?"
"They are very apt to," he replied with a slight laugh. "Do you want me
to go down now and see about that man?"
"If you could, without getting wet," she answered hesitatingly.
"Suppose I go," said her Uncle Herbert; "I'm pretty well now, and am
perhaps almost as skilful a physician as my older brother."
But now the captain interposed.
"I can't have either of my young brothers expose himself to this
rain, for the men on the yacht are quite competent to deal with that
Frenchman's case."
"I should say so indeed," said Mr. Lilburn gravely, "for it is not
likely that he was in the water many minutes. So, my wee bonny bairnie
Elsie, dinna fash yersel' ony mair aboot him," he concluded, with an
affectionate look and smile into the face of the little girl.
"Oh, Cousin Ronald, did you do it all?" exclaimed Ned. "Dear me, how
stupid I am! I might have known it was you."
"I doubt if you really know it yet, laddie," laughed the old gentleman.
Ned turned to his father. "Papa, may I take an umbrella and just run
down to the _Dolphin_ for a few minutes to ask about it?"
"It is not worth while," replied the captain; "I am very sure you would
make no discoveries."
"Then it was you, Cousin Ronald, wasn't it, now? Please own up,"
exclaimed Ned, with a laughing look into the old gentleman's face.
"Folk shouldna find fault with what they've asked for," was the old
gentleman's non-committal rejoinder.
"Oh, no, sir! no indeed! but I was not meaning to find fault," laughed
Ned; "I think it was good fun, and hope you will give us more of it."
Just as he pronounced the last word a fierce bark, seemingly that of a
very large dog, followed instantly by a scream as if a woman were in
pain and terror, startled them all, and there were outcries of affright
from the children, while several of the grown people started to their
feet and looked anxiously in the direction of the sounds, which had
seemed to come from the vicinity of the porch, but a little farther
toward the rear of the house.
Another bark from the dog, then a woman's voice in tones of wild
affright, "Oh, somebody help, help! this dog will tear me to pieces."
Mr. Leland and Walter Travilla stepped quickly to the end of the porch
nearest the sounds and looked around the corner of the house, but
instantly reported that neither woman nor dog was to be seen.
"Oh, another sell from Cousin Ronald!" laughed Ned. "Oh, there it is
again!" for just then there was a sound as of a loud knock at a side
door, and a man's coarse voice thundering, "Let me in oot o' this rain,
ye slowgoing, good-for-naught biddies. Let me in, I say, and be quick
about it."
A woman's scream followed instantly, "Oh, captain, or some o' you
gentlemen, come here quick and save us from this drunken rascal."
Some of those on the porch were a little startled for an instant, but
a laugh quickly followed, and the fun went on for some minutes--bees,
mice, chickens, and puppies being heard, but not seen or felt.
But the rainfall was growing heavier, and at length Harold suggested
that it might be well for Grace, if not for all, to go within doors to
escape the dampness.
Nearly all at once complied with the suggestion, and Mrs. Travilla,
inviting Grace to a seat by her side, said low and tenderly:
"Harold gave me a piece of news last night that has made me very happy.
I hope one of these days to number you among my dear daughters, and
shall feel most happy in doing so."
"Oh, Grandma Elsie, it is so kind in you to say that!" returned Grace
tremulously, but blushing with pleasure as she spoke; "it will be very
sweet to have you for my mother, for I have loved you dearly ever since
I first saw you."
At that moment Walter came and took a seat on the other side of her.
"Oh, Gracie," he said in an undertone, "I am so glad of Harold's
news--that I am to have you for a sister at some future day. I'll try
to be a good brother to you."
"And I certainly intend to do my best to be a good sister to you,
Walter," she answered in the same low tone, and with a vivid blush and
one of her sweetest smiles.
"Thanks," he said. "I wish the wedding was to take place directly;
some time this fall, at least. Couldn't we coax your father to allow
it?"
She laughed and shook her head. "Papa would never allow it, and
I--don't believe I could consent myself. Really, the very thought of
doing anything so important so suddenly more than half frightens me."
"Harold is a mild, good-natured kind of fellow; you needn't be afraid
of him," laughed Walter.
"No, not of him exactly," returned Grace, laughing a little also and
blushing quite a good deal, "but of--of the sudden change in my way of
life--leaving my father and all the rest of my family."
But there the talk between them ended for the time, for Harold's near
relatives came up, one after another, to tell Grace how welcome a new
member of their near connection she would be. Chester Dinsmore was
the only one who expressed any regret, and that not to Grace, but to
Lucilla.
"I am sorry for my brother Frank," he said. "He has been desperately
in love with her, but your father would not let him speak. And I
thought it would be pleasant to be so closely and doubly connected--two
sisters marrying brothers."
"I am sorry, since it disappoints you," said Lucilla. "But I hope Frank
will soon get over his disappointment and find some one who will suit
him still better. Besides, Grace being so delicate, it is well for her
to get into the hands of a good physician."
"True enough," returned Chester, "and we may as well look at it in that
way, for there is no use in fretting over what can't be helped."
September had come; the summer heat was over and business called the
gentlemen of our party to their more southern homes. Preparations
began, and one little company after another departed, leaving the rest
feeling somewhat lonely and dull without them. The captain and his
family, Grandma Elsie, Evelyn, and Mr. and Mrs. Lilburn were to go in
the yacht, which carried them away a few days later--down the Hudson
River and down the Atlantic coast to the seaport near their Southern
homes.
A joyous welcome from lovers, relatives, and friends awaited them
there. Then followed the fall, winter, and early spring months, filled
up and made delightful by the accustomed round of study, needlework,
social calls, and visits, interspersed with religious duties and
charitable work, etc.
Evelyn was often at Woodburn, and she and Lucilla made many pretty
things for the adornment of their future homes. The weddings were
to be postponed till Max came home, and to their disappointment
that home-coming was deferred month after month till Chester grew
exceedingly weary of waiting. Letters were received occasionally from
Max, but he knew no more than they when he would be able to rejoin them
and claim his bonny bride. The waiting was doubtless harder for him
than for Chester or either of the girls. They indeed seemed to take it
quietly and contentedly.
Grace was very happy with her lover close at hand and often visiting
her professionally or otherwise. And with her this state of things
seemed to be conducive to health; she grew rosier, stronger, gayer, and
more lively in her speech and manner than she had ever been before. So
great a joy was it to her father to perceive the change that he soon
fully forgave Harold for seeking her affection while she was still so
young and feeble. Harold seemed to be waiting very patiently, and when
Chester grumbled at his long enforced wait, Lucilla sometimes playfully
called his attention to the good example set him by Harold.
"But there isn't the same need of waiting in our case," he would reply,
"for, I am thankful to say, you are as healthy a girl as any that I
know of."
"Yes; but think of the disappointment to Max and Eva if we shouldn't
wait for them, when we can be together almost as much as if we were
married, and all the time doing things to make our new home as lovely
as possible."
The continuance of war in the Philippines, a cause of more or less
regret to everybody, was doubly so to Max's friends and relatives,
because it delayed his return month after month. They missed him
particularly when Christmas time came and he was not there to share
in the pleasant exchange of gifts and greetings. They had sent gifts
to him, hoping they would reach him in good season, and as usual they
bestowed them upon each other. For weeks beforehand Violet had spent a
good deal of time in her studio, and the result was a handsome portrait
of the captain for each of his older daughters. They were highly
pleased with them, saying that nothing else could have given them so
much pleasure. The captain's gifts to them and Violet were valuable
books and some fine paintings for their walls.
"You see, Chester," Lucilla said, when exhibiting hers to him, "that we
are getting more and more for the adornment of our home while we wait
for it."
"Adornment which could go on just as well if we were already in it," he
returned, with a rather rueful laugh.
"Well, for your consolation please remember that it is near enough to
be looked at every day," replied Lucilla, in a sprightly tone. "And see
here what your _fiancée_ has prepared for you," drawing a small package
from her pocket as she spoke.
"Thanks! Some of her own work, I hope," he said, with a gratified look
and smile.
"Yes, I would have you enjoy as much of my work as possible."
He had it opened now, and found it a beaded purse.
"Oh, how handsome!" he cried. "Many, many thanks, dearest! I have no
need of a reminder of you, but if I had, this would be one every time I
looked at it. Now here is my gift to you," taking in his turn a little
package from his pocket and putting it in her hand. It was a miniature
of himself--a fine likeness--attached to a beautiful gold chain.
"Oh, it is excellent, and nothing could have pleased me better!" she
exclaimed, as she examined it.
Harold had the same sort of gift for Grace, and she had embroidered for
him a set of fine linen cambric handkerchiefs, with which he seemed
greatly pleased.
Every member of that family, and each of the others in the connection,
had prepared some gift of more or less value for each of the others,
for their servants and dependents, and for the neighbors poor enough to
need assistance from those able to give it.
As usual there was a grand dinner at Ion, to which all the connection
were invited; and pretty much the same thing was repeated at Woodburn
on New Year's day. Max was missed and talked of at both gatherings,
always being mentioned as one of whom they were proud and fond, while
to Evelyn and the Woodburn family his absence detracted much from the
enjoyment of the festivities. Yet they comforted themselves with the
hope that the trouble in the Philippines would soon be over, and he
allowed to return to his home and dear ones, now so anxious to see him,
and to claim his promised wife.