"Whatsoever a man soweth, that shall he also reap."
--GAL. vi. 7.
Elsie and her children returned home healthful and happy, with scarce any
but pleasing recollections of the months that had just passed.
Not so with Mrs. Conly and Virginia. They seemed soured and disappointed;
nothing had gone right with them; their finery was all spoiled, and they
were worn out--with the journey they said, but in reality far more by late
hours and dissipation of one sort and another.
The flirtation with Captain Brice had not ended in anything
serious--except the establishing of a character for coquetry for
Virginia--nor had several others which followed in quick succession.
The girl had much ado to conceal her chagrin; she had started out with
bright hopes of securing a brilliant match, and now, though not yet
twenty, began to be haunted with the terrible, boding fear of old
maidenhood.
She confided her trouble to Isadore one day, when a fit of extreme
depression had made her unusually communicative.
Isa could scarce forbear smiling, but checked the inclination.
"It is much too soon to despair, Virgy," she said; "but indeed, I do not
think the prospect of living single need make one wretched."
"Perhaps not you, who are an heiress; but it's another thing for poor,
penniless me."
Isadore acknowledged that that probably did make a difference.
"But," she added, "I hope neither of us will ever be so silly as to marry
for money. I think it must be dreadful to live in such close connection
with a man you do not love, even if he is rolling in wealth; but suppose
he loses his money directly? There you are, tied to him for life without
even riches to compensate you for your loss of liberty."
"Dear me, Isa, how tiresome! Where's the use of supposing he's going to
lose his money?"
"Because it's something not at all unlikely to happen; riches do take
wings and fly away. I do not feel certain that Aunt Delaford's money will
ever come to me, or that, if it does, I may not lose it. So I intend to
prepare to support myself if it should ever become necessary."
"How?"
"I intend to take up the English branches again, also the higher
mathematics, and make myself thorough in them (which I am far from being
now; they do not teach them thoroughly at the convent), so that I may be
able to command a good position as a teacher.
"And let me advise you to do the same."
"Indeed, I've no fancy for such hard work," sneered Virginia. "I'd rather
trust to luck. I'll be pretty sure to be taken care of somehow."
"I should think if any one might feel justified in doing that it would be
Cousin Elsie," said Isadore; "but Uncle Horace educated her in a way to
make her quite capable of earning her own living, and she is doing the
same by every one of her children."
"Such nonsense!" muttered Virginia.
"Such prudence and forethought, I should say," laughed her sister.
A few days after this Isadore was calling at Ion and in the course of
conversation Mrs. Travilla remarked, with concern, "Virginia looks really
unhappy of late. Is her trouble anything it would be in my power to
relieve?"
"No; unless she would listen to good counsel from you. It is really
nothing serious; and yet I suppose it seems so to her. I'm almost ashamed
to tell you, cousin, but as far as I can learn it is nothing in the world
but the fear of old-maidenhood," Isa answered, half laughing.
Elsie smiled.
"Tell her from me that there is plenty of time yet. She is two or three
years younger than I was when I married, and," she added with a bright,
happy look, "I have never thought I lost anything by waiting."
"I'm sure you didn't, mamma," said Violet, who was present. "But how very
odd of Virgy to trouble about that! I'm glad people don't have to marry,
because I shall never, never be willing to leave my dear home, and my
father and mother. Especially not to live with some stranger."
"I hope it may be some years before you change your mind in regard to
that," her mother responded with a loving look.
Elsie was not bringing up her daughters to consider marriage the chief end
of woman; she had, indeed, said scarcely anything on the subject till her
eldest was of an age to begin to mix a little in general society; then she
talked quietly and seriously to them of the duties and responsibilities of
the married state and the vast importance of making a wise choice in
selecting a partner for life.
In their childhood she had never allowed them to be teased about beaux.
She could not prevent their hearing, occasionally, something of the kind,
but she did her best to counteract the evil influence, and had succeeded
so well in that, and in making home a delight, that her children one and
all, shunned the thought of leaving it, and her girls were as easy and
free from self-consciousness in the society of gentlemen as in that of
ladies; never bold or forward; there was nothing in their manner that
could give the slightest encouragement to undue familiarity.
And then both she and their father had so entwined themselves about the
hearts of their offspring, that all shared the feeling expressed by
Violet, and truly believed that nothing less than death could ever
separate them from these beloved parents.
There was a good deal to bring the subject of marriage prominently before
their minds just at present, for the event of the winter was the bringing
home of a wife by their Uncle Horace, and "Aunt Rosie" was to be married
in the ensuing spring.
The approaching Centennial was another topic of absorbing interest.
That they might reap the full benefit of the great Exhibition, they went
North earlier than usual, the middle of May finding them in quiet
occupancy of a large, handsome, elegantly furnished mansion in the
vicinity of the Park.
Here they kept open house, entertaining a large circle of relatives and
friends drawn thither, by a desire to see this great world's fair.
The Dalys were with them, husband and wife each in the same capacity as at
Ion, which left Mr. and Mrs. Travilla free to come and go as they wished,
either with or without their children.
They kept their own carriages and horses and when at home drove almost
daily to the Exhibition.
Going there with parents and tutor, and being able to devote so much time
to it, the young people gathered a great store of general information.
Poor Molly's inability to walk, shut her out from several of the
buildings, but she gave the more time and careful study to those whose
contents were brought within her reach by the rolling chairs.
Her cousins gave her glowing descriptions of the treasures of the Art
building, Horticultural Hall, Women's Department, etc., and sincerely
sympathized with her in her deprivation of the pleasure of examining them
for herself.
But Molly was learning submission and contentment with her lot, and would
smilingly reply that she considered herself highly favored in being able
to see so much, since there were millions of people even in our own land,
who could not visit the Exhibition at all.
One morning, early in the season, when as yet the crowd was not very
great, the whole family had gone in a body to Machinery Hall to see the
Corliss engine.
They were standing near it, silently gazing, when a voice was heard in the
rear.
"Ah, ha! ah, ha! um h'm; ah, ha! what think ye o' that now, my lads? is it
worth looking at?"
"That it is, sir!" responded a younger voice in manly tones, full of
admiration, while at the same instant, Elsie turned quickly round with the
exclamation, "Cousin Ronald!"
"Cousin Elsie," he responded, as hand grasped hand in cordial greeting.
"I'm so glad to see you!" she said. "But why did you not let us know you
were coming? Did you not receive my invitation?"
"No, I did not, cousin, and thought to give you a surprise. Ah, Travilla,
the sight of your pleasant face does one good like a medicine.
"And these bonny lads and lasses; can they be the little bairns of eight
years ago? How they have grown and increased in number too?" he said,
glancing around the little circle.
He shook hands with each, then introduced his sons, two tall, well built,
comely young men, aged respectively twenty and twenty-two, whom he had
brought with him over the sea.
Malcom was the name of the eldest, the other he called Hugh.
They had arrived in Philadelphia only the day before, and were putting up
at the Continental.
"That will not do at all, Cousin Ronald," Elsie said when told this. "You
must all come immediately to us, and make our house your home as long as
you stay."
Mr. Travilla seconded her invitation, and after some urging, it was
accepted.
It proved an agreeable arrangement for all concerned. "Cousin Ronald" was
the same genial companion that he had been eight years before, and the two
lads were worthy of their sire, intelligent and well-informed, frank,
simple hearted and true.
The young people made acquaintance very rapidly. The Exposition was a
theme of great and common interest, discussed at every meal, and on the
days when they stayed at home to rest; for all found it necessary to do so
occasionally, while some of the ladies and little ones could scarcely
endure the fatigue of attending two days in succession.
Then through the months of July and August, they made excursions to
various points of interest, spending usually several days at each;
sometimes a week or two.
In this way they visited Niagara Falls, Lakes Ontario, George and
Champlain, the White Mountains, and different seaside resorts.
At one of these last, they met Lester Leland again. The Travillas had not
seen him for nearly a year, but had heard of his welfare through the
Lelands of Fairview.
All seemed pleased to renew the old familiar intercourse; an easy matter,
as they were staying at the same hotel.
Lester was introduced to the Scotch cousins, as an old friend of the
family.
Mr. Lilburn and he exchanged a hearty greeting and chatted together very
amicably, but Malcom and Hugh were only distantly polite to the newcomer
and eyed him askance, jealous of the favor shown him by their young lady
cousins, whose sweet society they would have been glad to monopolize.
But this they soon found was impossible even could they have banished
Leland; for Herbert Carrington, Philip Ross, Dick Percival and his
friends, and several others soon appeared upon the scene.
Elsie was now an acknowledged young lady; Violet in her own estimation and
that of her parents', still a mere child; but her height, her graceful
carriage and unaffected ease of manner--which last was the combined result
of native refinement and constant association with the highly polished and
educated, united to childlike simplicity of character and utter absence of
self-consciousness--often led strangers into the mistake of supposing her
several years older than she really was.
Her beauty, too, and her genius for music and painting added to her
attractiveness, so that altogether, the gentlemen were quite as ready to
pay court to her as to her sister, and had she been disposed to receive
their attentions, or to push herself forward in the least, her parents
would have found it difficult to prevent her entering society earlier than
was for her good.
But like her mother before her, Vi was in no haste to assume the duties
and responsibilities of womanhood. Only fifteen she was
"Standing with reluctant feet
Where the brook and river meet,
Womanhood and childhood fleet."
Hugh Lilburn and Herbert Carrington both regarded her with covetous eyes,
and both asked permission of her father to pay their addresses, but
received the same answer;--that she was too young yet to be approached on
that subject.
"Well, Mr. Travilla, if you say that to every one, as no doubt you do, I'm
willing to wait," said Herbert going off tolerably contented.
But Hugh, reddening with the sudden recollection that Violet was an
heiress, and his portion a very moderate one, stammered out something
about hoping he was not mistaken for a fortune hunter, and that he would
make no effort to win her until he was in circumstances to do so with
propriety.
"My dear fellow," said Mr. Travilla, "do not for a moment imagine that has
anything to do with my refusal. I do not care to find rich husbands for my
daughters, and were Violet of proper age, should have but one objection to
you as a suitor; that you would be likely to carry her far away from us."
"No, no, sir, I wouldn't!" exclaimed the lad warmly. "I like America, and
think I shall settle here. And sir, I thank you most heartily for your
kind words. But, as I've said, I won't ask again till I can do so with
propriety."
Leland, too, admired Violet extremely, and loved her with brotherly
affection; but it was Elsie who had won his heart.
But he had never whispered a word of this to her, or to any human
creature, for he was both poor and proud, and had firmly resolved not to
seek her hand until his art should bring him fame and fortune to lay at
her feet.
Similar considerations alone held Malcom Lilburn back, and each was
tortured with the fear that the other would prove a successful rival.
Philip Ross, too, was waiting to grow rich, but feared no rival in the
meantime; so satisfied was he that no one could be so attractive to Elsie
as himself.
"She's waiting for me," he said to his mother, "and she will wait. She's
just friendly and kind to those other fellows, but it's plain she doesn't
care a pin for any of them."
"I'm not so sure of that, Phil," returned Mrs. Ross; "some one may cut you
out. Have you spoken to her yet? Is there a regular engagement between
you?"
"Oh, no! but we understand each other; always have since we were mere
babies."
Mrs. Ross and her daughters had accompanied Philip to the shore, and it
pleased Lucy greatly that they had been able to obtain rooms in the same
house with their old friends, the Travillas.
Mr. Hogg was of the party also, and Elsie and Violet had now an
opportunity to judge of the happiness of Gertrude's married life.
They were not greatly impressed with it; husband and wife seemed to have
few interests in common, and to be rather bored with each other's
society.
Mr. Hogg had a fine equipage, and drove out a great deal, sometimes with
his wife, sometimes without; both dressed handsomely and spent money
lavishly; but he did not look happy, and Gertrude, when off her guard,
wore a discontented, care-worn expression.
Mrs. Ross was full of cares and anxieties, and one day she unburdened her
heart to her childhood's friend.
They were sitting alone together on the veranda upon which Mrs. Travilla's
room opened, waiting for the summons to the tea-table.
"I have no peace of my life, Elsie," Lucy said fretfully; "one can't help
sympathizing with one's children, and my girls don't seem happy like
yours.
"Kate's lively and pleasant enough in company, but at home she's dull and
spiritless; and though Gertrude has made what is considered an excellent
match, she doesn't seem to enjoy life; she's easily fretted, and wants
change and excitement all the time."
"Perhaps matters may improve with her," Elsie said, longing to comfort
Lucy. "Some couples have to learn to accommodate themselves to each
other."
"Well, I hope it may be so," Lucy responded, sighing as though the hope
were faint indeed.
"And Kate may grow happier, too; dear Lucy, if you could only lead her to
Christ, I am sure she would," Elsie went on low and tenderly.
Mrs. Ross shook her head, tears trembling in her eyes.
"How can I? I have not found him myself yet. Ah, Elsie, I wish I'd begun
as you did. You have some comfort in your children; I've none in mine.
"That is," she added, hastily correcting herself, "not as much as I ought
to have, except in Phil; he's doing well; yet even he's not half so
thoughtful and affectionate toward his father and mother as your boys are.
But then of course he's of a different disposition."
"Your younger boys seem fine lads," Elsie said; "and Sophie has a winning
way."
Lucy looked pleased, then sighed, "They _are_ nice children, but so
wilful; and the boys so venturesome. I've no peace when they are out of my
sight, lest they should be in some danger."