"I saw her, and I loved her--
I sought her, and I won."
"Across the threshold led,
And every tear kiss'd off as soon as shed,
His house she enters, there to be a light
Shining within, when all without is night;
A guardian angel, o'er his life presiding,
Doubling his pleasure, and his cares dividing."
--_Roger._
"You declined a drive with me the last time I asked you," Mr. Embury
remarked, breaking a momentary silence that had fallen between them,
"but will you not be more gracious to-day? My carriage is near at hand,
and I have a great desire to take you for an airing--you and the
babies."
Blushing deeply, Molly said, "Yes, if you wish it, and will bring me
back before I am missed."
"I shall take good care of you, as who would not of his own?" he said,
bending down to look into her face with a proud, fond smile; "yes, you
are mine now, dearest, and I shall never resign my claim. Ah," as he
lifted his head again, "here comes your uncle, and I fancy he eyes me
with distrust. Mr. Dinsmore," and he stepped forward with outstretched
hand, "how do you do, sir? What do you say to receiving me into the
family? I trust you will not object, for this dear girl intends to give
me the right to call you uncle."
Mr. Dinsmore grasped the hand, looking in silent astonishment from one
to the other. He read the story of their love in both faces--Molly's
downcast and blushing, yet happy; Mr. Embury's overflowing with
unfeigned delight.
"I assure you, sir," he went on, "I am fully aware that she is a prize
any man might be proud to win. Your niece is no ordinary woman: her
gifts and graces are many and great."
"She is all that you have said, and even more," her uncle returned,
finding his voice. "And yet--you are quite sure that this is not a
sudden impulse for which you may some day be sorry?"
He had stepped to Molly's other side and taken her hand in his, in a
protecting, fatherly way. "It would wreck her happiness," he added, in
moved tones, "and that is very dear to me."
"It cannot be dearer to you, sir, than it is to me," the lover answered;
"and rest assured your fears are groundless. It is no sudden impulse on
my part, but deliberate action taken after weeks of careful and
prayerful consideration. You seem to stand in the place of a father to
her; will you give her to me?"
"Mr. Embury, you are the noblest of men, and must forgive me that I had
some suspicion that you were thoughtlessly trifling with the child's
affections. I see you have won her heart, and may you be very happy
together."
Mr. Dinsmore was turning away, but Mr. Embury stopped him.
"Let me thank you, sir," he said, again holding out his hand. "We are
going for a little drive," he added, "and please let no one be anxious
about Miss Percival. I am responsible for her safe return."
Molly's chair rolled on with rapid, steady movement to the entrance to
the grounds, where Mr. Embury's carriage stood; then she felt herself
carefully, tenderly lifted from one to the other and comfortably
established on a softly cushioned seat.
How like a delightful dream it all seemed--the swift, pleasant motion
through the pure, sweet, fragrant air; beautiful scenery on every hand;
the prattle of infant voices and the whispers of love in her ear. Should
she not awake presently to its unreality? awake to find herself still
the lonely, unloved woman she was in her own esteem but an hour ago, and
who by reason of her sad infirmity could look forward to nothing else
through life?
They turned in at an open gateway, and Molly, suddenly rousing herself,
said, in surprise, "We are entering some one's private grounds, are we
not?"
"Yes," was the quiet reply, "but there is no objection. The owner and I
are on the most intimate terms. I admire the place very much, and want
you to see it, so we will drive all around the grounds." And he gave the
order to the coachman.
Molly looked and admired. "Charming! almost if not quite equal to
Viamede."
His eyes shone. "Your taste agrees with mine," he said. "Look this way.
We have a good view of the house from here. What do you think of it?"
"That it is just suited to its surroundings, and must be a delightful
residence."
"So it is; and I want to show you the inside too. There's no objection,"
as he read hesitation and disapproval in her face; "the master and
mistress are not there, and--in fact I have charge of the place just
now, and am quite at liberty to show it to strangers."
The next moment they drew up before the front entrance. Mr. Embury
hastily alighted and lifted out the little ones, saying in a low tone
something which Molly did not hear as he set them down.
They ran in at the open door, and turning to her again he took her in
his strong arms and bore her into a lordly entrance hall; then on
through, one spacious, elegantly furnished room after another--parlors,
library, dining and drawing-rooms--moving slowly that she might have
time so gaze and admire, and now and then setting her down for a few
moments in an easy chair or on a luxurious sofa, usually before a rare
painting or some other beautiful work of art which he thought she would
particularly enjoy.
The children had disappeared, and they were quite alone.
He had reserved a charming boudoir for the last. Open doors gave
tempting glimpses of dressing and bedrooms beyond.
"These," he said, placing her in a delightfully easy, velvet cushioned
chair, and standing by her side, "are the apartments of the mistress of
the mansion, as you have doubtless already conjectured. What do you
think of them?"
"That they are very beautiful, very luxurious. And oh what a lovely view
from yonder window!"
"And from this, is it not?" he said, stepping aside and turning her
chair a little that she might see, through a vista of grand old trees,
the lagoon beyond sparkling in the sunlight.
"Oh that is finer still!" she cried. "I should think one might almost be
content to live a close prisoner here."
"Then I may hope my dear wife will not be unhappy here? will not regret
leaving the beauties of Viamede and the charming society there for this
place and the companionship of its owner? Molly, dearest, this is
Magnolia Hall; you are its mistress, and these are your own rooms," he
said, kneeling by her side to fold her to his heart with tenderest
caresses.
"It is too much, oh you are too good to me!" she sobbed, as her head
dropped upon his shoulder.
On leaving Mr. Embury and Molly, Mr. Dinsmore hastened to join his wife
and daughter, who were sitting together on the lawn. The interview
between the lovers having taken place in a part of the grounds not
visible from where they sat, they had seen nothing of it.
"You look like the bearer of glad tidings, my dear," Rose remarked,
glancing inquiringly at her husband as he seated himself at her side.
"And so I am, wife," he answered joyously. "Elsie, you may spare
yourself any further regrets because of your kindness to Mr. Embury. He
is a noble, generous-hearted fellow, and very much in love with our
poor, dear Molly. They are engaged."
"Engaged?" echoed both ladies simultaneously, as much surprised and
pleased as he had hoped to see them.
"Yes," he said, and went on to repeat what had passed between himself
and the newly-affianced pair.
"Dear Molly," Elsie said with tears trembling in her eyes, "I trust
there are many very happy days in store for her. And how pleased Aunt
Enna will be, she was so desirous to bring about the match."
"Molly herself should have the pleasure of telling her."
"Yes, indeed, papa."
"There is something else," Mr. Dinsmore said. "At Mr. Embury's
suggestion I wrote to Dick two or three weeks ago, telling him that
there was a good opening for a physician here, and asking if he would
not like to come and settle if pleased with the country. His answer came
this morning, and he will be with us in a few days."
"How glad I am!" was Elsie's exclamation. "Molly's cup of happiness will
be full to overflowing."
Rose, too, was rejoiced; but she had heard before of the invitation to
Dick, and was less surprised at this news than Elsie was.
The ladies had their work, Mr. Dinsmore the morning paper, and the three
were still sitting there when Mr. Embury's carriage returned.
Molly's face was radiant with happiness; Mr. Embury's also; and the
faces of the friends who gathered about them in the library, whither he
carried her, seemed to reflect the glad light in theirs.
Everybody was rejoiced at Molly's good fortune, and pleased to receive
Mr. Embury into the family, for they all respected and liked him.
Enna's delight on hearing the news was unbounded; she half smothered her
daughter with kisses, and exclaimed over and over again, "I knew he
wanted you! And didn't I tell you there'd be somebody better worth
having than Elsie's lover coming after you some day? And I'm as glad as
can be that my girl's going to be married the first of all--before
Louise's girls, or Elsie's either!"
"I can't see that that makes the least difference, mother," Molly said,
laughing for very gladness. "But oh what a good and kind man he is! and
what a lovely home we are to have! for, mother, he says you are to live
with us always if you like."
"Now that is nice!" Enna said, much gratified. "And is it as pretty as
Viamede?"
"It is almost if not quite as beautiful as Viamede, though not quite so
large; both house and grounds are, I believe, a little smaller."
"How soon are you going to be married?"
"I don't know just when, mother; the day has not been set."
"I hope it will be soon, just as soon as we can get you ready."
This was a little private chat in Molly's room after Mr. Embury had
gone away. She had asked to have her chair wheeled in there, and to be
left alone with her mother while she told her the news of her
engagement.
"I must consult with uncle and aunt and Cousin Elsie about that," she
said in answer to her mother's last remark. "Will you please open the
door now and ask them to come in? I don't care if the rest come too."
"Well, Molly, when, where, and by whom is the knot to be tied?" asked
Mr. Dinsmore playfully, as he stood by her side looking down with a
kindly smile at her blushing, happy face.
"O uncle, so many questions at once!"
"Well, one at a time then: When?"
"That foolishly impatient man wanted me to say to-night," she answered,
laughing, "and when I told him how absurd an idea that was, he insisted
that a week was quite long enough for him to go on living alone."
"A week!" exclaimed her aunt. "You surely did not consent to that?"
"No," Aunt Rose, "but I believe I half consented to try to make my
preparations in two weeks. I doubt if we can quite settle that question
now."
"There must be time allowed for furnishing you with a handsome
trousseau, my dear child," Elsie said, "but possibly it can be
accomplished in a fortnight. As to the next question--where?--you
surely will let it be here, in my house?"
"Gladly, cousin, if pleasing to you," Molly answered with a grateful,
loving look. "And Mr. Keith shall officiate, if he will. Of course it
must be a very quiet affair; I should prefer that under any
circumstances."
"You will invite Dick, will you not?" her uncle asked with a twinkle in
his eye.
"Dick! oh the dear fellow! I ought to have him. I wonder if I could
persuade him to leave his practice long enough to come. Two weeks would
give him time to get here if I write at once."
"No need," her uncle replied. "Providence permitting, he will be here in
less than half that time."
Then the whole story came out in answer to Molly's look of astonished
inquiry, and her cup of happiness was indeed full to overflowing.
"Where did you drive, Molly?" asked Isa. "But I suppose you hardly know;
you could see nothing but--your companion?"
"Ah, Isa, do you judge of me by yourself?" queried Molly gleefully. "By
the way, though, I had three companions. But _don't_ I know where I
went?"
Then smiling, laughing, blushing, rosy and happy as they had never seen
her before, she described the darling baby girls and the beautiful
home.
But the sweet words of love that had been as music to her ear were too
sacred for any other.
She had quite a large and certainly very attentive and interested
audience, the whole family having gathered in the room. Enna and the
young girls were especially delighted with the tale she had to tell.
"It's just like a story--the very nicest kind of a story!" cried Vi,
clapping her hands in an ecstasy of delight when Molly came to that part
of her narrative where she learned that she herself was to be the
mistress of the lordly mansion she had entered as a stranger visitor,
with all its wealth of luxury and beauty.
The next two or three weeks were full of pleasant bustle and excitement,
preparations for the wedding being pushed forward with all possible
dispatch, Mr. Embury pleading his loneliness and that he wanted Molly's
relatives and friends to see her fairly settled in her new home before
they left Viamede for the North.
Mr. and Mrs. Dinsmore, with Enna, Isa, the younger Elsie and Violet,
took a trip to New Orleans and spent several days in shopping there,
laying in great store of rich, costly and beautiful things for Molly's
adornment.
Mr. Embury, too, paid a flying visit to the city, which resulted in an
elegant set of jewels for his bride and some new articles of furniture
for her apartments.
Dick arrived at about the expected time and was joyfully welcomed. His
surprise and delight in view of Molly's prospects were quite sufficient
to satisfy her, and so greatly was he pleased with the country that in a
few days he announced his purpose to remain.
Cyril had received a unanimous call from the two churches, and after
mature deliberation accepted it, upon which Elsie doubled the salary she
had formerly paid, and told him playfully and in private that if he
would get a wife whom she could approve she would repair, enlarge, and
refurnish the cottage.
"You are extremely kind and generous cousin," he stammered, coloring
deeply, "and I--I would be only too glad to follow out your suggestion."
"Well," she returned in the same playful tone, "what is there to
hinder?"
"The only woman I could fancy, could love, is so beautiful, fascinating,
accomplished, so altogether attractive in every way, that--I fear she
could hardly be expected to content herself with a poor minister."
"I cannot say how that is," Elsie answered with a smile, "but judging by
myself I should think she would give her hand wherever her heart has
gone; and if I were a man I should not despair until I had asked and
been refused. And, Cyril, though not rich in this world's goods, I
consider you a fit match for the highest--you who are a son of the
King."
"That sonship is more to me than all the world has to give," he said,
looking at her with glistening eyes, "but to others it may seem of
little worth."
"Not to any one who is of the right spirit to be truly an helpmeet to
you. I think I know where your affections are set, my dear cousin, and
that by her the true riches are esteemed as by you and me."
He thanked her warmly by word and look for her kind sympathy and
encouragement, and there the interview ended.
But that night, when Elsie was about retiring, Isa came to her, all
smiles, tears and blushes, to tell the story of love given and returned.
She and Cyril had spent the evening wandering about the grounds alone
together in the moonlight, and he had wooed and won his heart's choice.
"Dear Isa, I am very, very glad for you and for Cyril," Elsie whispered,
clasping her cousin close, and kissing again and again the blushing
cheek. "I cannot wish anything better for you than that you may be as
happy in your wedded life as my dear husband and I were."
"Nor could I ask a better wish," Isa returned with emotion; "but ah! I
fear I can never be the perfect wife you were! And, cousin, I can
hardly hope for mamma's approval of my choice."
"Do not trouble about that now; I think we shall find means to win her
consent."
"I think grandpa and uncle are sure to approve."
"Yes; and they will be powerful advocates with Aunt Louise; so I think
you need not hesitate to be as happy as you can," Elsie answered with a
smile. "Do you wish the matter kept secret?"
"Mr. Keith is with grandpa and uncle now," Isa said, blushing, "and I
don't care how soon Aunt Rose and the girls and Dick know it; but if you
please, the rest may wait until mamma is heard from."
Molly was delighted, though not greatly astonished, when Isa told her
the next morning.
"How nice that we shall be near neighbors," she exclaimed. "I wish you
would just decide to make it a double wedding."
"Thank you," laughed Isa; "do you forget that it is now just one week
from your appointed day? or do you think my trousseau could be gotten up
in a week, though it takes three for yours?"
"I really didn't stop to think," Molly acknowledged with a happy laugh;
"but, Isa, you are so beautiful that you need no finery to add to your
attractions, while my plainness requires a good deal."
"Molly," Isa said, standing before her and gazing fixedly and admiringly
into the glad, blooming face, "I think you have neglected your mirror of
late or you wouldn't talk so."
A great surprise came to Molly on the morning of her wedding day. Her
cousin Elsie gave her ten thousand dollars, and Mr. Embury settled fifty
thousand upon her, beside presenting her with the jewels he had
purchased--a set of diamonds and pearls.
Also she received many handsome presents from uncle, aunt, brother and
cousins, and from Mr. Embury's children.
He had sent for his two boys, fine manly fellows of ten and twelve, to
be present at the marriage, which was to take place in the evening, and
had brought them that morning for a short call upon his chosen bride.
She and they seemed mutually pleased, and Molly, who had been somewhat
apprehensive lest they should dislike the match, felt as if the last
stone were removed from her path.
She gratified Mr. Embury greatly by a request that the baby girls and
all the servants from Magnolia Hall might be present, and that he would
let Louis, his eldest son, stand up with them as third groomsman, Dick
and Harold Travilla being first and second.
Isa, the younger Elsie and Violet were the bridesmaids, all wearing
white for the occasion.
It was a very quiet wedding indeed, no one at all present but the
members of the two families, servants included--these last grouping
themselves about the open door into the hall.
Molly sat in her chair looking very sweet and pretty in white silk,
point lace, and abundance of orange blossoms freshly gathered from the
trees on the lawn.
The bridesmaids looked very lovely also; groom and groomsmen handsome
and happy.
Mr. Keith made the ceremony short but solemn and impressive. The usual
greetings and congratulations followed; Elsie's to the bride a whispered
hope, accompanied with tears and smiles, that every year might find
herself and husband nearer and dearer to each other.
An elegant banquet succeeded, and shortly after the happy bridegroom
bore his new-made wife away to her future home.