Captain Raymond's invitation proved scarcely less agreeable to Mr. and
Mrs. Dinsmore than to their younger friends and relatives, and their
acceptance was telephoned to Woodburn before the Sunnyside party had
left for their homes. All heard it with satisfaction, for Grandpa and
Grandma Dinsmore were pleasant traveling companions. Some lively chat
followed, in regard to needed preparations for the trip, and in the
midst of it a servant came in with the afternoon mail.
The Captain distributed it and among Max's portion was a document of
official appearance. Evelyn noted it with a look of apprehension, and
drew nearer to her young husband's side.
"Orders, my son?" asked the Captain, when Max had opened it and
glanced over the contents.
"Yes, sir; I am to go immediately to Washington, upon the expiration of
my leave which will be about the time the rest of you set sail in the
'Dolphin.'"
The announcement seemed quite a damper upon the previous high
spirits of the little company, and there were many expressions of
disappointment and regret.
"Well," said Chester, getting on his feet as he spoke, "I must go home
now; there is a little matter in regard to one of my cases that must
be attended to at once, since I am likely to leave the neighborhood so
soon."
"And if my husband goes, I must go, too," said Lucilla, in a lively
tone, rising and taking up the wrap she had thrown off on coming into
the warm room.
"It is near the dinner hour; you would better stay, all of you, and
dine with us," said the Captain.
All thanked him, but declined, each having some special reason for
wishing to go home at that particular time.
"Well, come in and share a meal with us whenever you will," said the
Captain. "I think you know, one and all, that you are heartily welcome."
"Yes, father, we do," said Max, "and we are always glad when you care
to breakfast, dine, or sup with us."
"Any of us but papa?" asked Ned.
"Yes, indeed; all of you from Mamma Vi down," laughed Max, giving the
little fellow an affectionate clap on the shoulder as he passed him on
his way out to the hall.
"Yes, Ned, each one of you will always be a most welcome visitor," said
Chester.
"Indeed you will, you may be very sure of that," added Lucilla and Eva.
"So sure are we of that, that you need not be surprised to see any of
us at any time," laughed Violet. "Nor will we be surprised or grieved
to see any or all of you at any time."
"No, indeed! I want my daughters--and sons also--all to feel entirely
at home always in their father's house," the Captain said, with his
genial smile.
"Thank you, father dear, and don't forget that Sunnyside is one of your
homes, and we are always ever so glad to open its doors to you," said
Lucilla, going to him and holding up her face for a kiss, which he gave
with warmth of affection.
"And not Lu's side only, but ours as well," added Evelyn, holding out
her hand and looking up lovingly into his face.
He took the hand, drew her closer to him and gave her a caress as
affectionate as that he had just bestowed upon Lucilla.
The rest of the good-byes were quickly said, and both young couples
were wending their homeward way. They were all in thoughtful mood, and
the short walk was taken in almost unbroken silence.
Eva's heart was full at thought of the approaching separation from her
young husband. How could she bear it? He seemed almost all the world to
her, now that they had been for weeks such close companions, and life
without his presence would be lonely and desolate indeed. She passed
up the stairway to their bedroom, while he paused in the hall below
to remove his overcoat and hat. Her eyes were full of tears, as she
disposed of her wraps, then crossed the room to her mirror to see that
dress and hair were in perfect order.
"No improvement needed, my own love, my darling," Max said, coming up
behind her and passing an arm about her waist.
At that she turned and hid her face upon his breast.
"Oh, Max, my husband, my dear, dear husband," she sobbed, "how can I
live away from you? You are now more than all the world to me."
"As you are to me, dear love. It is hard to part, but we will hope to
meet again soon; and in the meantime let us write to each other every
day. And as there is no war now you need not feel that your husband is
in any special danger."
"Yes, thank God for that," she said, "and that we may know that we are
both in his kind care and keeping wherever we are."
"And surely you will be less lonely than you were before our
marriage--father claims you as his daughter, Chester and little Ned are
your brothers, Lu and Grace your sisters."
"Yes, oh yes; I have a great deal to be thankful for, but you are to me
a greater blessing than all the world."
"As you are to me, dearest," was his response, as he held her close to
his heart, pressing warm kisses on cheek and brow and lip.
Meanwhile, on the other side of the hall, Chester and Lucilla were
chatting about the Captain's plan for a winter trip.
"I think it will be just delightful, Chester," she said, "since I am
to have you along. I am so glad you are going, sorry as I am that
ill-health makes it necessary."
"Yes, my dear," he returned with a smile, "I am fortunate, indeed, in
having so loving a wife and so kind and able a father-in-law. I am
truly sorry that I must leave some important business matters to which
I should like to give attention promptly and in person, but I intend
to put that care aside and enjoy our holiday as fully as possible. I
heartily wish Max could go with us. I think it would almost double the
pleasure of the trip."
"As I do," responded Lucilla, with a sigh; "but it seems one can never
have all one wants in this world. I doubt if it would be good for us if
we could."
"No, it assuredly would not. Now, my dear, I am going down to the
library to look at some papers connected with one of my cases, and
shall probably be busy over them until the call to dinner."
The next few days were busy ones with those who were to have a part in
the southern trip of the "Dolphin." Woodburn and Sunnyside were to be
left in the care of Christine and Alma, with a sufficient number of
servants under them to keep everything in order.
Max went with the others to the yacht, spent a half hour there,
then bade good-bye, went ashore and took a train for Washington. It
was Eva's first parting from her husband, and she shut herself into
her stateroom for a cry to relieve her pent-up feelings of grief and
loneliness. But presently there was a gentle little tap at the door
and Elsie Raymond's sweet voice asked, "Sister Eva, dear, don't you
want to come on deck with me and see them lift the anchor and start the
'Dolphin' on her way?"
"Yes, dear little sister; thank you for coming for me," replied Evelyn,
opening the door.
"All the rest of us were there and I thought you would like to be
there, too," continued the little girl, as they passed through the
saloon and on up the stairway.
"Yes, little sister, it was very kind in you to think of me."
"But I wasn't the only one; everybody seemed to be thinking of you and
looking round for you. So I asked papa if I should come for you, and he
said yes."
"It was very kind in both him and you, little sister Elsie," Eva said,
with a smile. "Our dear father is always kind, and I am very glad to be
his daughter."
"So am I," returned Elsie, with a happy little laugh. "I think he's the
dearest, kindest father that ever was made."
They had just reached the deck at that moment, and as they stepped
upon it they caught sight of Harold and Grace standing near, looking
smilingly at them, pleased with Elsie's tribute to her father, which
they had accidentally overheard.
"Oh, Uncle Harold, you'll take Sister Eva to a good place to see
everything from, wont you?" exclaimed Elsie.
"Yes, little niece, the everything you mean," he returned, laughingly.
"There is room for us all. Come this way," he added, and led them to
that part of the deck where the other passengers were grouped.
There they were greeted with kindness and given a good place for
seeing all the preparations for starting the vessel on her way to the
Bermudas. She was soon moving swiftly in that direction, and, a cool
breeze having sprung up, her passengers left the deck for the warmer
and more comfortable saloon.
"Elsie and Ned wouldn't you like your grandma to tell you something
about the islands we are going to?" asked Mrs. Travilla; the two little
ones being, as usual, quite near her.
"Yes, indeed! grandma," both answered, in eager tones, seating
themselves one on each side of her. "I heard papa say it wouldn't be a
very long voyage we would take at the start, because the Bermudas were
only about six hundred miles away from our coast," said Elsie. "They
belong to England, don't they, grandma?"
"Yes; but they were named for a Spaniard, Bermudez, who first sighted
them in 1527; they are also called Somers's Isles from Sir George
Somers, an Englishman, who was shipwrecked there in 1609. That was what
led to their colonization from Virginia--two years later when it was
itself only four years old.
"Are they big islands, grandma? and are there many of them?" asked Ned.
"No, there are perhaps five hundred of them, but the whole group
measures only about twelve thousand acres in all. They occupy a space
only about twenty miles long by six broad."
"Then the group isn't worth very much, I suppose."
"Yes, because its situation makes it a natural fortress which can
hardly be overrated. They form a bond of union between two great
divisions of British America; on each side of them is a highway between
the Gulf of Mexico and the North Atlantic. There are many picturesque
creeks and bays, large and deep, the water so clear as to reveal, even
to its lowest depths, the many varieties of fish sporting among the
coral rocks, and the beautifully variegated shells."
"And it has a warm climate, hasn't it, grandma?" asked Elsie. "I think
that is why we are going there."
"Yes, the climate is said to be like that of Persia, with the addition
of a constant sea-breeze."
"I shall like that," responded the little girl with satisfaction. "But
what kind of people live there, grandma?"
"A good many whites and still more colored people."
"Slaves, grandma?" asked Ned.
"No; the islands belong to England, and years ago she abolished slavery
in all her dominions."
"What are the names of some of them, grandma? the islands, I mean."
"The largest, which is fifteen miles long, is called Bermuda; St.
George is three and a half miles long and is the military station of
the colony; it commands the entrance of the only passage for large
vessels. Its land-locked haven and the narrow and intricate channel
leading into it are defended by strong batteries."
"You have been there, haven't you, grandma?"
"Yes; years ago," she said, with a sigh, thinking of the loved partner
of her life who had been with her then and there.
"And your Grandpa Dinsmore and I were there at the same time," remarked
Grandma Dinsmore, sitting near; and she went on to give a graphic
account of scenes they had witnessed there, Mr. Dinsmore presently
joining in a way to make it very interesting to the children.