LE’S PLAN
When all the greetings were over the family were allowed to go
upstairs—still in custody of the dog, who kept his eye on them—and take
off their traveling suits.
Mrs. Anglesea walked ahead to see that every one was comfortable.
Every bedroom was perfectly ready for its occupant, well lighted by
candles in silver candlesticks on the mantelpiece and on the dressing
bureau, and well warmed by a bright little wood fire in the open
fireplace, which this chilly April evening rendered very pleasant.
“One thing I do grieve to part with, even in the lovely spring, and that
is our beautiful open wood fires!” said Elva, as she sat down on the
rug, with Joshua lying beside her, before the fire in the bedroom
occupied by Wynnette and herself.
“So do I! I am always glad when a real cool evening comes to give us an
excuse to kindle one,” Wynnette assented.
But the tea bell rang, and they had to leave the bright attraction, and,
closely attended by Joshua, who resolved to keep them in view, go down
to the dining room, where all the family were assembled.
This apartment was also brightly lighted by a chandelier, which hung
from the ceiling over the well-spread table, and warmed by a clear
little wood fire in the open chimney.
“Strawberries and wood fires! The charms of summer and winter meeting in
spring!” exclaimed Wynnette, glancing from the open chimney to the
piled-up glass bowl of luscious fruit that stood as the crowning glory
of the table.
“Raised under glass, honey. And a time I had to keep the little niggers
from stealing them! Children may be little angels, but I never seed one
yet as wouldn’t steal fruit when it could get a chance.”
“I think they instinctively believe that all the fruit that grows
belongs to them, or at least, as much of it as ever they want, and—maybe
they are right,” said Mr. Force.
“That’s pretty morality to teach the young uns! You ought to be ashamed
of yourself, ole man. That’s not my way, nohow. I spanked every one of
them little niggers with a fine new shingle until they roared again,
every time I caught ’em at the strawberries; and, providentially, there
were plenty of new shingles handy—left by the carpenters who put the new
roof on the back porch,” said the lady from the mines.
But no one replied; and as Mrs. Force had taken her seat at the head of
the table, all the party gathered around, while the dog stretched
himself on the rug before the fire and watched his family. They wouldn’t
get away again for parts unknown, and stay three years—not if he knew
it!
It was late when they sat down to tea, but as they were all very hungry,
and this was their first meal at home after years of absence, they
lingered long around the table.
And when at last they arose and went into the drawing room, still
“dogged” by Joshua, it was only for a short chat around the fire, and
then a separation for the night.
“Jake, put that dog out,” said Mrs. Anglesea, who could not all at once
forget to give orders in the house she had ruled for three years, even
now when the mistress was present.
Jake advanced toward the brute, but Joshua laid himself down at
Wynnette’s feet and showed all his fangs in deadly fashion.
“’Deed, missis, it’s as much as my life’s worf to tech dat dorg now,”
pleaded Jake.
“Let Joshua alone,” said Wynnette; “he shall sleep on the rug in my
room, shan’t you, good dog?”
Joshua growled a reply that was perfectly well understood by Wynnette to
mean that he certainly should do that very thing in spite of all the
wildcat women in creation.
And so when all went upstairs, the dog trotted up soberly after his
little mistress, and when the latter reached their room, he laid himself
down contentedly on the rug, and watched until he saw them abed and
asleep. Then he resigned himself to rest.
“Oh! the rapture of being at home again!” breathed little Elva, standing
on the rose-wreathed front piazza, and looking forth upon the splendid
April morning, when the sky was blue, and the bay was blue, and the
forest trees of tenderest green, and the orchard trees with apple
blossoms, peach blossoms, all like one vast parterre of blossoming
flowers; and the tulips, hyacinths, jonquils, daffodils, pansies,
japonicas, and all the wealth and splendor of spring bloom on the flower
beds on the lawn were radiant with color and redolent of perfume.
“Oh! the rapture of being at home!” said little Elva, softly to herself,
as she gazed on the scene.
“‘Hail, blest scenes of my childhood!’” sentimentally murmured a voice
behind her.
Elva turned quickly, and saw, as she expected to see, the mocking face
of Wynnette.
“Oh, Wynnette! how can you make such fun of me!” inquired Elva, in an
aggrieved tone.
“To prevent other things making a fool of you. Come in, now, to
breakfast. They are all down, and I came out to look for you.”
The girls went in together, and took their places at the table.
When the breakfast was over, Le asked his uncle for the loan of a horse
to ride over to Greenbushes.
“I want to take a look at the little place, which I have not seen for
three years and more,” he explained.
“Why, certainly, Le. Take any horse you like. And never think it
necessary to ask me. Are you not as a son to me?” said Abel Force.
“I did hope to be your son, sir, in every possible sense of the word,
but that hope seems dead now,” sighed the young man.
“Not at all, Le! We have only to prove a fraud in the alteration of the
date of Lady Mary Anglesea’s death to set aside every imaginary barrier
between you and Odalite.”
“But, sir, he denies that there ever was any marriage between himself
and this Californian lady. He declares that it is all a conspiracy
between the woman and the priest, that the marriage certificate is a
forgery, and the telegram a fraud, and he defied us to go or send to St.
Sebastian to test the matter. Now if this Californian lady is not
Anglesea’s wife——” Le paused. He could not bring himself to conclude the
sentence.
“If the Californian is not his wife, Odalite is, no matter at which date
the first wife died,” said Mr. Force, finishing the unspoken argument.
“Yes, that is what I meant to say—only I could not.”
“My dear Le, have you the least doubt as to the reality of that St.
Sebastian marriage, whatever may be said of its legality?”
“No, none in the world. Still I want further proof of it. I want to go
to St. Sebastian and search the parish register, as he challenged us to
do!”
“Bah! He only did that out of bravado, to annoy us and to gain time. He
no more believed that we would either go or send to St. Sebastian than
he believed that he would ever be permitted to touch the tip of
Odalite’s finger as long as he should live in this world! He acted from
a low spite, without the slightest hope of any other success.”
“Notwithstanding that, Uncle Abel, upon reflection, I shall go to
California and search that parish register and bring back with me
absolute, unquestionable proof of that marriage to take with us to
England. Then, when we can prove that Lady Mary Anglesea’s death
occurred before Col. Anglesea’s second marriage, we shall know Odalite
to be free to become my wife. Don’t you see?”
“Yes, Le; but when do you propose to go to California on this quest? You
know we sail for England in six weeks from this.”
“I shall start to-morrow, and lose no time! travel express! do my work
as quickly as it can be done thoroughly—for to do it most thoroughly
must be my first care—then I shall travel express coming home, and so be
back again as soon as possible.”
“Well, my boy, go!” said Mr. Force. “I approve your earnestness, and may
Heaven speed you.”