FORBIDDEN LOVE
The three carriages conveying the large party from the old manor house
rolled on through the familiar woods, so often traversed by the young
people of the household in going to and fro between Mondreer and
Greenbushes.
In the foremost carriage rode Mr. and Mrs. Force, Wynnette and Elva.
In the second, Odalite and Le.
In the third, Dickon and Gipsy, the valet and lady’s maid, in charge of
all the lighter luggage.
Joshua, the dog, raced on before in the highest state of ecstasy, but
occasionally raced back again, as if to be sure that his large family
were following him safely without disappearing in the woods to the right
or the left.
Mr. Force knew perfectly well that that dog was going to give him more
trouble and embarrassment on land and sea than all his party twice told;
that it would be the unfailing cause of rows and rumpuses, on trains and
boats, and that might end in Joshua being cast off, or lost, or killed.
But what could he do?
Talk of your henpecked husband, indeed! He is not half so common, or
half so helpless, as your chickpecked father.
Wynnette had promised Joshua that he should never be left behind again,
and she said that it would be base to deceive and betray a poor dog.
Wynnette said the dog must come, and he came.
When they came in sight of Chincapin Creek little Elva put her head out
of the window and gazed, and continued to gaze, fondly, if silently, on
the spot so full of pleasant, childish memories, until they had crossed
the bridge, and left the place behind. Then, with a little, involuntary
sigh, she drew in her head and sat back in her seat.
Wynnette mocked her.
“Why don’t you say, ‘Adieu, blest scenes of my innocent infancy! Virtue
and simplicity,’ and so on and so on!”
“Oh, Wynnette! How can you?” exclaimed Elva, almost in tears.
“I can’t! I never could! It isn’t in my line! But why don’t you?” mocked
the girl, raising her black eyebrows.
They reached the station in full time, and had twenty minutes to wait.
Mr. Force had engaged a whole compartment for his party by telegraph the
day before.
In the waiting room they found all the Grandieres, all the Elks, and
little Rosemary Hedge, with her luggage.
There followed an animating scene—a little laughing, more crying and
much talking.
Mrs. Hedge implored Mrs. Force to be a mother to her fatherless child,
and to bring her back safe and well at the end of the year.
Mrs. Force promised all that a woman could, under the circumstances.
And Roland Bayard, who sat beside little Rosemary holding her hand in
his, spoke up and said:
“Dear Mrs. Hedge, don’t grieve about the little maiden. If, at any time,
you should be pining to have her back, you can let me know and I will
just run over and fetch her.”
There was something very comforting in this promise, because Mrs. Hedge
knew that Roland Bayard meant what he said; and very cheering in the
manner in which he put it—“Just run over and fetch her!” Why, it sounded
like such a mere trifle to cross the ocean, in these days of steam. But
Roland was still talking.
“And, Rosemary, if you get homesick before our friends are ready to
return, write to me, darling, and I’ll come and fetch you back.”
“Oh, Mr. Bayard! you don’t know how you have consoled me!” said Mrs.
Hedge, wiping her eyes.
“I will write to you every week, Roland. And I will keep a journal for
you, and send it in monthly parts, so that you may seem to be traveling
with us! Oh, how I wish you were!” sighed Rosemary.
“Do you, darling? Well, perhaps you may see me sooner than you expect,”
replied Roland, mysteriously.
“Oh! oh! will you be coming over? Does the _Kitty_ ever go to England?”
“I don’t know, dear; but if the _Kitty_ don’t, there will be one or two
other little craft crossing—perhaps. Let us live in hope.”
While Rosemary and Roland chatted together, Mrs. Hedge turned to Mrs.
Force, saying:
“Oh, you happy woman! You are going to Europe with all you love at your
side—husband, children and nephew! While I stay home, widowed,
practically childless and alone! Talk of the compensations of life!
There is no compensation in mine.”
“‘The heart knoweth its own bitterness!’” murmured Elfrida Force to
herself.
“Mother! Mother! I won’t go! I won’t leave you!” cried Rosemary, jumping
up and throwing herself into the widow’s arms.
“Hush, my child, hush! I wish you to go, and you must do so. It is for
your own profit and instruction,” replied Mrs. Hedge.
“Then, my own dear mother, won’t you just think that I have only gone
back to school in Washington, and that I shall be home as usual to spend
the Christmas holidays? Mr. Force expects to bring us all home in
December.”
“Yes, yes, I shall be comforted, child,” replied the widow, and she held
her daughter on her lap, against her bosom, with Rosemary’s arms clasped
around her neck, until they heard the sound of the approaching train.
The train never stopped longer than three minutes at this station.
All arose to bid their last good-bys.
Among the rest, Joshua came out from behind Wynnette’s skirts, and shook
himself, and very nearly shook the building. All alert was he to see
that his eccentric family did not escape him again.
“Gracious goodness, Mr. Force! Here is that dog followed you all the way
from Mondreer! What’s to be done with him? Shall I take him home? Will
he follow me?” inquired Sam Grandiere, eager to be useful.
“He is to go abroad with us,” groaned the squire, who was hastily
shaking hands right and left with the friends who had come to see him
and his family off.
“But will they allow——”
There was no time to finish his question, for—
“Good-by, Sam,” said Wynnette, holding out her hand. “Remember the
advice I gave you about taking a course at Charlotte Hall College.”
“I will, Wynnette, I will!” earnestly answered the young fellow, with
tears brimming in his honest blue eyes.
“You will write to me as often as you can, and I will answer every one
of your letters. And—listen here, Sam,” she added, in a whisper that the
long-legged boy had to stoop to catch, “I won’t marry a royal duke if I
can resist the temptation! Good-by.”
The whole party hurried out of the building to the platform, where the
train had just stopped, with its puffing and blowing engine.
Mr. Force showed his tickets, and the party were conducted to their car.
In the confusion of a final leave-taking, then and there, between two
such large parties, Joshua, who did not at all like the looks of things
in general, with the long train of cars, the panting engine, the steam,
the smoke, the crowd, the baggage heavers, the excitement, and the
general “hullabuloo,” and who feared that he might lose sight of his
family in this crash of worlds, managed to slip into the car, between
Wynnette’s duster and Gipsy’s arms full of shawls, and to ensconce
himself under the broad lounge in the compartment.
The last kisses were given, the last “God bless you” spoken, and the
travelers were seated in their compartment not ten seconds before the
train started.
“Now!” exclaimed Wynnette, triumphantly. “Have we had the least trouble
with Joshua?”
“Not yet,” curtly replied her father. “Where is he?”
“Under the sofa—and Rosemary, Elva and myself, by sitting here, hide him
from view.”
“Very well. Keep him quiet, if you can.”
The train was rushing on at express speed, when the conductor came along
to collect the tickets. He entered their compartment. Joshua considered
his appearance an unwarrantable intrusion, and told him so in a low,
thunderous growl.
“What’s that?” suddenly demanded the conductor, looking around.
“Urr-rr-rr-rr,” remarked Joshua.
“It is a valuable dog of ours. I am quite willing to pay his fare,”
replied Mr. Force, taking out his pocketbook.
“He can’t be allowed in the passenger car, sir,” replied the conductor.
“Not in the compartment that we have taken for our own convenience, and
where he cannot possibly annoy anybody else?”
“No, sir; it is against the rules.”
“Oh, Mr. Conductor! please! please! He is such a good dog, and we love
him so much! Indeed, he will not bite when he knows you don’t mean to
hurt us! Please, Mr. Conductor, let him stay!” pleaded Elva.
“’Gainst the rules, miss. Very sorry.”
“Papa, tip that fellow with a V, and stop this row!—I mean, papa, pray
offer this officer the consideration of a five-dollar note, and conclude
this controversy.”
Of course, it was Wynnette who uttered this insolence.
“Hush, my dear, hush! This is quite inadmissible. The conductor must do
his duty.”
“If he gets put off the train I’ll go, too! He’ll never find his way
home!” said Wynnette.
Elva began to cry.
The conductor was in a hurry.
“If this young gentleman will bring the dog after me to the freight car,
the baggage master will take charge of him for a trifle,” suggested the
conductor, who was more moved to pity by Elva’s tears than to anger by
Wynnette’s insolence.
“Go, Le,” said Mr. Force, opening his pocketbook and taking from it a
note, which he put into the midshipman’s hands. “Give this to the man,
and tell him if he will take care of the dog he shall have another at
the end of this journey.”
“And introduce Joshua to the baggage master, and tell him what a
cultivated and gentlemanly dog he is! And don’t you leave them together
until you are sure that they are good friends! Do you hear me, Leonidas
Force?”
“All right, Wynnette,” said good-humored Le, taking Joshua by the collar
and trying to pull him from under the sofa.
But the dog declined to leave his retreat. He did not recognize Mr.
Midshipman Force as his master.
“Bother! I shall have to take him myself. You can come with us if you
like, Le; but you needn’t if you don’t,” said Wynnette. And she whistled
for the dog, who immediately came out and put his gray paws upon her
lap.
She arose and called him to follow her. Le and the conductor escorted
her.
“I know we are going to have no end of trouble with that dog,” said Mr.
Force.
“Oh, I think not, when we learn how to manage. We must always give him
in charge of the baggage master at the start,” replied Mrs. Force.
Wynnette and Le were gone nearly an hour. At last they returned.
“What kept you so long? Did the dog prove intractable, or the baggage
master unaccommodating?” inquired Odalite of Le.
“Not at all!” exclaimed Wynnette, answering for her companion. “That
baggage man’s a good sort. He and Joshua became pals at once. He loves
dogs, and dogs love him. As soon as ever I presented Joshua to him he
held out his hand, and said:
“‘Hello, old pard! how are you? Shall we be pals?’ or words to that
effect. And said Joshua slapped his paw into the open palm, and—
“‘It’s a whack!’ or barks to the same purpose.”
“But what kept you so long? What were you doing all that time?”
“Talking to the baggage master. I do like to talk to real men much
better than to the curled and scented la-da-da things we meet in
society. His name is Kirby. He came from Lancashire, England, where he
has an old father living, to whom he sends a part of his wages every
month. He is forty-five years old, and has been married twenty years,
and has eleven children, the oldest eighteen and the youngest one. I
told him we were going to Lancashire, and would take anything he might
like to send to his dad.”
“But, my dear, Lancashire is a large county, and we may not be anywhere
near his native place.”
“We could make a point of going there to oblige such a man as he is,
papa. Think of his bringing up a large family and helping his old
father, too, on such small wages as he must get. Oh, he is a downright
real man. And, indeed, I have a warm place in my heart for real men.”
“That is why you like Sa——”
“Shut up, Rosemary!”
And Rosemary obeyed.
The remainder of the journey was made without disturbance.
They reached Washington about 3 P.M., dined and rested for an hour at
their favorite hotel, and took the afternoon train to New York, where
they arrived very late at night.
They had no more trouble with the dog, now that they knew how to manage.
Mr. Force went down to the steamer to see about the passage of the
animal, and found that there was a place in the steerage of the great
ship where the creature could be accommodated.
Ah, what a chickpecked father that man was!
“If they had wanted to fetch a favorite cow, I should have been obliged
to bring her somehow,” he said to himself.
On the next morning Mr. Force took his family to Central Park and to the
menagerie.
In the evening he took them to the opera to hear Kellogg. That was their
last night in the city.