THE homeward trip of the Dolphin was a speedy and successful one. Her
passengers, healthy and happy, enjoyed it greatly, yet were rejoiced
when she cast anchor, one lovely morning, in the harbor near their
homes, where they were wont to leave her, to travel the few remaining
miles on land.
They had been expected at about that time, and Edward and Zoe Travilla
were there to meet them. Grandma Elsie was the first to step on shore,
and Edward caught her in his arms with a glad exclamation:
“Oh, mother, I am so rejoiced to have you at home again! We can’t do
without you. We have missed you every day and every hour.”
“And I am very, very glad to be here with you all again,” she returned;
“you among them, Zoe. Ah, Herbert, my son,” as at that moment he and
Dr. Conly appeared on the scene, “your mother is rejoiced to see you
also, looking so bright and well. You, too, Cousin Arthur,” giving a
hand to him. “Are all the dear ones well?”
“Yes. And, oh! but we are glad to have you home again,” both physicians
answered, then turned to welcome the others, who were stepping ashore.
It was a most affectionate greeting all round, even the little newcomer
sharing in it. Then Edward said:
“Now, friends and cousins, we want you all at Ion for the rest of the
day. A big enough dinner has been prepared, and every one of you will
be as welcome as possible.”
“That is certainly very kind and hospitable in you, Brother Ned,” said
Mrs. Leland, “but I really think we would better take ourselves and our
luggage to our own homes first and visit you later on, a few at a time.”
“No, Elsie, dear,” he returned, “we have made the plans and
preparations, and shall feel greatly disappointed if not permitted to
carry out our scheme. Come one, come all, and let us have a jolly time
together.”
Just then Chester Dinsmore came hurrying toward them, having just
learned in his office of the arrival of the vessel. A joyous,
affectionate greeting exchanged between him and Lucilla, his wife,
he turned to the other returned travellers. Then Edward renewed his
invitation, adding:
“I have been out to each one of your homes and seen that they are
all in prime order for you, but told the caretakers that you were to
dine with us at Ion first; therefore, they need not expect you until
evening, or somewhere near it.”
“You are very kind, indeed, Brother Ned,” said Captain Raymond, “and
if my wife and the others are willing to accept your advice—your most
hospitable invitation—I shall be happy to do so.”
“I should like to,” said Violet; “but what about the baggage, _et
cetera_?”
“Those things can all be sent out immediately to our homes and safely
entrusted to the caretakers Brother Ned just spoke of,” said the
captain.
All now accepted Edward’s invitation, entered the waiting carriages
and were driven at once along the good and pleasant road to Ion. There
they found a gathering of all the relatives in that region—Dr. Conly’s
family, Calhoun’s also, Rose Croly, with her husband and children, the
Dinsmores from the Oaks, the Laceys from the Laurels, Cousin Ronald and
his Annis, Hugh and his wife and children. It was now nearly a year
since Captain Raymond and his party had sailed away in the Dolphin,
and the reunion of so many friends and relatives gave much undisguised
pleasure.
It was a large company, but with nothing stiff or formal about it;
there were many loving embraces and much cheerful, happy, familiar
chat, and soon they gathered about the hospitable board to regale
themselves with dainty and delicious fare, the meal enlivened by
an interchange, suited to the occasion, of thoughts, feelings and
experiences. There was a feast of reason and a flow of soul,
accompanied by no gluttony or gormandizing.
Conversation and many courses kept them long at the table. But at
length they left it and gathered in the parlors. They had not been
there long when Laurie and Lily came in, bringing the tee-tees—the
little monkeys belonging to Elsie and Ned Raymond. They were delighted
to see their pets and thought the pleasure was mutual, though the older
people had doubts concerning the evidences of pleasure given by the
monkeys.
The nurse had had the care of Evelyn’s baby while the dinner was in
progress, but now she brought it in and laid it in the mother’s lap
while she should go and take her meal. Several of the cousins gathered
about to look at the little one, and spoke admiringly of her appearance.
“She is a little beauty,” said more than one.
Then a weak little voice seemed to come from her lips:
“Don’t make me vain.”
“Oh, no, darling. You are too young for that,” laughed Grandma Elsie,
“as well as too young to talk so wisely and well.”
“Yes, ma’am; but my papa helps me,” murmured the weak little voice, and
everybody looked at Max and laughed.
“What a nice little truth-speaker you are, little niece,” said Lucilla,
leaning over the babe and softly touching its cheek.
“I want to be that always, auntie,” replied the same little voice which
had spoken before.
“Oh, what a good little thing you are,” laughed Ned. “I’m glad to be
your uncle.”
“Tell him he’s too young and small to be of much use as an uncle,” said
a voice that seemed to come from some one behind the group about the
baby.
Instantly every head was turned to see who the speaker was. But he
seemed to be invisible.
“Why, who said that?” exclaimed Ned.
“Oh, I know. It was you, Cousin Ronald.”
“Some people are wonderfully wise,” said Mr. Lilburn. “But really,
now, did that sound like my voice?”
“Like one of them, I think,” laughed Ned. “You seem to have a good
many; even more than Brother Max has.”
Ned had his tee-tee on his shoulder, and it seemed now to put in its
word:
“Is that the way to talk to your old, old cousin?”
“Is that the way you talk to me, you saucy fellow?” laughed Ned, giving
the tee-tee a little shake.
“There!” exclaimed Lily Travilla. “That’s the first time he’s spoken
since we brought him away from Louisiana in the Dolphin.”
“I can’t talk when there’s nobody by to help me,” was the tee-tee’s
next remark.
“And Cousin Ronald is helping you now, isn’t he?” asked Ned.
“Yes; and he’s good help.”
Elsie had Tiny on her shoulder, and she put in her word now:
“I think it’s my turn to talk a little. I’m glad my little mistress
has come home, though I’ve had a good time on the yacht and here with
these good folks.”
“I’m glad you have had a good time,” laughed Elsie, “and I promise
you shall have a fine time at Woodburn, my home, where I’ll take you
presently.”
“Will you let me run about on the porches and the grass and climb the
trees?”
“Yes, indeed, as much as you like, if you won’t run away from your
home,” answered Elsie, hugging and stroking her pet.
“Now, if aunts, uncles and cousins will step aside for a moment, her
grandfather would like to take a peep at baby,” said Captain Raymond,
coming up behind the group of children.
They all hastily stepped aside and he leaned over the babe and
chirruped to it. It looked up into his face and laughed, as if it knew
and cared for him.
“Ah, you really seem to know and approve of your grandpa,” he said
laughingly. “Evelyn, my dear, she’s a darling, a pretty little pet.”
“So Max and I think, father,” returned the happy young mother.
“And so, I think I may say, do we all,” said old Mr. Dinsmore.
“I should not at all object to counting her among my
great-great-grandchildren.”
“Nor would we to having you do so, sir,” said Max, coloring and smiling
with pleasure, for he was very proud of his little daughter and glad to
have her admired by others.
“I am proud and fond of the little dear, call myself her uncle now, and
hope to be really such one of these days,” laughed Harold.
“We all hope so,” said Max, “and have no objection to your claiming
that relationship at once.”
There had been some alterations and improvements made in house and
grounds since the Dolphin and her passengers started on that winter
trip, and presently most of the company went about viewing them, and
that with entire satisfaction and approval.
But the sun was now nearing the horizon, and the Woodburn and Sunnyside
folk were growing eager to see and rest in their own loved and
comfortable homes. The carriages were brought up, the adieus said, and
they went on their way rejoicing. Each family went to its own dwelling
at first, but they would not be long apart; that evening would see them
all gathered, first at one residence, then at the other, and there
would never be a day that would not be spent more or less in each
other’s society. This would be true of all excepting Max, who must
soon return to his ship. The thought of that was all that marred the
happiness of that evening, with its joyful return to their own loved
homes. But Evelyn and all of them tried to put away remembrance of it
for the present.