Lulu’s first waking thought was of her father’s promise.
“Perhaps he is going to tell me what he and Maxie were talking
about last night,” she said to herself. “Likely it was something of
importance to keep them so long. I wonder what? Maybe about going to
the seashore, or somewhere, for the hot months, as we always do.”
She slipped out of bed and began a brisk toilet, determined to be ready
to receive her father whenever he might come.
She and Gracie were together in their own little sitting-room looking
over their tasks for the day, when hearing his approaching footsteps
they hastily laid aside their books and ran to meet him.
“Good-morning, my darlings; you look well and bright,” he said, bending
down and opening his arms to receive them.
“Good-morning, dear papa,” they answered, running into them, and
putting theirs about his neck. “Yes, we are well, and hope you are
too,” hugging and kissing him with ardent affection.
“Now, papa, won’t you give me that long talk you said I should have
this morning?” pleaded Lulu.
“Yes; don’t I always keep my promises?” he asked, taking possession of
an easy-chair and allowing them to seat themselves one upon each knee.
“Yes, indeed you do, papa; sometimes when I’d rather you wouldn’t,”
returned Lulu laughingly.
“Would you be willing to lose faith in your father’s word, dear child?”
he asked, with sudden gravity.
“No, papa; no indeed!” she answered earnestly; “that would be worse
than being punished, when I deserve it, for naughtiness that you’ve
said you’d have to punish me for.”
“I trust there will never again be any call for me to keep such
promises,” he said caressing her. “You have been very good for some
time past, and intend to keep on trying to be so, do you not?”
“Yes, sir; but I’m afraid the badness that I still feel inside
sometimes will crop out again one of these days,” she said, half-sadly,
half-jestingly.
“The same danger threatens your father, too,” he said, “and the only
safety for either of us lies in constant watching and prayer.”
“But, papa, how can we be praying all the time?”
“The Bible,” he replied, “bids us ‘Pray without ceasing,’ not meaning
that we are to live on our knees, or with words of prayer always on
our lips, for that would be impossible without neglecting other duties
enjoined in God’s Word—such, for example, as ‘Six days shalt thou
labor and do all thy work,’ ‘Distributing to the necessity of saints,’
and so forth—but that we are to live near to God and with so much of
the spirit of prayer in our hearts that they will be often sending up
swift, silent petitions, or songs of praise and thankfulness.
“Well, Lulu, I know you are curious to hear what Max and I were
conversing about last night.”
“Oh, yes, sir, indeed! if you are willing I should know,” she responded
eagerly.
“Quite willing,” he said. “It was of his choice of a business or
profession. I had received a letter offering an appointment for my
son as a naval cadet; so, as I wish Max to choose for himself, it was
necessary for him to decide, and to do so promptly, whether he would
accept that offer or decline it.”
“Oh! which did he choose to do, papa?”
“He said he had quite made up his mind to go into the navy, if he
might, and asked me to write an acceptance for him; which I did before
I went to my bed.”
“You are always so prompt, papa,” remarked Lulu, putting her arm round
his neck and gazing with loving admiration into his face.
“Yes,” he said, “I must try to be all I would have my children, for
‘example is better than precept.’”
“And Maxie will have to go away and not be in school with us any more?”
Grace said, half-inquiringly, tears filling her eyes.
“Yes, daughter,” her father answered with a slight sigh; “boys can’t be
always kept at home; but I hope to keep my girls a long while yet,” he
added, drawing them into a close embrace as he spoke.
“Dear, dear! how we will miss Max!” exclaimed Lulu, “but then how nice
it will be when he comes home for his vacations!”
“So it will,” said the captain. “But now I have something else to tell
you; something which concerns you, Lulu, a little more nearly.”
“I hope it isn’t that I am to go away too! you can’t make a cadet of
me, though Aunt Beulah called me a tom-boy when I was with her,” Lulu
remarked laughingly.
“No; but there are other places more suitable for girls,” her father
replied, with a grave look and tone that she was at a loss to interpret.
“Oh, papa, you can’t mean that really I—I’m going away too?”
“Perhaps some better instructor than your present one might be found
for you,” he began meditatively, then paused, as if considering the
matter.
“Oh, no, no, no!” she cried, “there couldn’t be a better one, I’m sure,
and I just love to be taught by you, and couldn’t bear to have anybody
else teach me; ’specially if I had to go away from you. And wouldn’t
you miss me a little, papa?” she asked, with tears in her voice and
hiding her face on his shoulder.
“Yes; a great deal more than a little should I miss the darling
daughter always so ready, even eager, to run papa’s errands and wait
upon him lovingly,” he said, pressing his lips again and again to her
cheek. “In fact, her companionship is so sweet to me that, having to go
upon a long journey, I would prefer to take her with me.
“But I shall not force her inclination; if you would rather stay at
home with Mamma Vi and the little ones, you may do so.”
“Oh, papa, what do you mean?” she asked, looking up in joyful surprise,
not unmixed with perplexity. “Won’t you please explain?”
“Yes; I am going out to the far West on a business trip, shall take Max
with me, and you, too, if you care to go.”
“Care to go! wouldn’t I!” she cried, clapping her hands in delight,
and half smothering him with caresses. “Oh, I think I never dreamed
of anything so, so, _so_ delightful! Papa, you are such a dear, dear
father! so, _so_ good and kind to me! Oh, I ought to be the best girl
that ever was made! and if I’m not it shan’t be for want of trying.”
But tears were rolling down Gracie’s cheeks, and with a little sob she
drew out her handkerchief to wipe them away.
“O Gracie, dear, I wish you could go too!” exclaimed Lulu.
“If she were only strong enough,” her father said, caressing her with
great tenderness, “she too should have her choice of going or staying;
but I know the fatigue of the journey would be more than she could
endure.”
“I don’t want to have a journey,” sobbed Grace; “but how can I do
without papa? without Maxie? and without Lulu? all gone at once?”
“But mamma and the babies will be left, and you love them dearly, I
know.”
“Yes, papa, but I love Max and Lu, and oh, I love you better than
anybody else, in all the world!” clinging about his neck and laying her
little wet cheek to his.
“Sweet words for papa to hear from your lips, darling,” he returned,
holding her close and kissing her many times, “and papa’s love for you
is more than tongue can tell.”
“Then why will you go away and leave me, papa?”
“Because business makes it necessary for me to go, darling, and you are
not strong enough to go with me. But cheer up; it will be very pleasant
at home with mamma and the babies; Grandma Elsie and the others coming
over from Ion and Fairview very often; and after a while you will all
be going to some nice seaside resort, where I hope to join you with Max
and Lulu before it is time to come home again.”
“That will be nice, papa,” she said a little more cheerfully.
“And how would you like to get a letter from papa now and then? from
Max and Lulu too? and to answer them? You can write very nicely now,
and a talk on paper to your father will be better than none at all,
won’t it?”
“Oh, I’d enjoy it ever so much, if you’ll excuse the mistakes, papa!”
she exclaimed with animation.
“Indeed, I will,” he said; and just then the breakfast-bell rang.
Violet’s face as she met them in the breakfast-room was not quite
so sunny as husband and children were accustomed to see it. She was
feeling very much as Gracie did about the captain’s contemplated
absence from home; also it was a sad thought to her that Max was not
likely ever to be again a permanent resident of his father’s house; he
would be at home now and then for a vacation, but that probably would
be all, for after graduating he would go out into the world to make a
career for himself; and it seemed hard to give him up, for she was fond
of the lad—her husband’s son, and like a dear younger brother to her.
She noted the traces of tears on Gracie’s cheeks with a fellow-feeling
for the child’s distress.
“So papa has been telling you, dear?” she said, bending down to kiss
the little girl. “Well, we won’t fret; we’ll try to just keep thinking
of the joyful time we shall have when they come back to us.”
“Oh, that will be nice, won’t it?” exclaimed Lulu. “I’m just wild with
delight at the prospect of going, but I know I’ll be ever so glad to
get back; for this is such a dear, sweet home.”
“And papa will be in it again when you get back; you’ll have him all
the time going and coming. I’m glad for you, Lu,” Grace said, smiling
affectionately on her sister, through her tears.
But they had taken their places at the table, and all were quiet for a
moment while the captain craved a blessing on their food.
Lulu asked a question the instant she was free to do so. “Papa, when
will we start on our journey?”
“In about a week. Can you get ready in that time?”
“Oh, yes, indeed, sir! I don’t believe I have anything to do but pack
my trunk. I have plenty of nice clothes and pretty things ready to
wear!”
“Yes, plenty of them, such as they are; but you will need something
plainer and more durable than the dresses you wear at home.”
“Shall I, papa?” she asked, in surprise and dismay. “Surely, papa, you
won’t want me to look shabby, and I’ve heard that people dress quite as
handsomely and fashionably away out West as they do here or anywhere
else.”
“That may be so, daughter,” he said, “but sensible people dress
according to circumstances; suitably for time, place, and occupation;
for instance, a sensible lady wouldn’t put on a ball dress in the
morning and when about to engage in domestic duties, any more than she
would wear a calico wrapper to a ball.”
“Nor I wouldn’t think of doing either of those things, papa,” she
returned laughing. “But you don’t expect to set me to doing housework
out there, do you?”
“Perhaps we are to live in a tent and have you for our housekeeper,
Lu,” suggested Max.
“Oh, is that it?” she exclaimed, with a look of delight. “Oh, that
would be fun! Papa, are we to do so?”
“I have no such scheme in contemplation,” he said, smiling kindly into
her excited face. “I rather think we will find a place to board, and
that it will not be one where you will find occasion for much fine
dressing. Beside I shall not care to take any one tricked out in laces
and ribbons with me to climb mountains, roam through forests, or go
down into mines, or to ride an Indian or Mexican pony, or a mule, over
rough roads, and that not always in fine weather.”
“O papa, are you going to let me do such things as that!” she cried,
laying down knife and fork to clap her hands in glee, and feeling a
strong inclination to jump up and dance about the floor.
“Some, or possibly all of them, if I can have you in suitable attire,”
he answered; “but certainly not otherwise.”
“What additions to her wardrobe do you wish made, my dear?” asked
Violet.
“Two or three dresses of some material not easily torn or soiled;
flannel perhaps; and they must be plainly and strongly made, no
flounces, furbelows, or trimming of a kind that would be liable to
catch on twigs or bushes or points of rock.”
“I shall look like a fright, I’m afraid,” remarked Lulu uneasily, and
coloring deeply; “but I’m willing to for the sake of pleasing you,
papa, and being taken everywhere with you.”
“That’s right, dear child,” he said, giving her a smile of approval.
“And I think you will look very nice and neat, Lu,” said Violet. “My
dear, mamma and I are going into the city this morning for a little
shopping, and if you can trust our taste and judgment we will willingly
purchase the goods for Lulu’s dresses. Then I will set Alma to work
upon them at once, and try to get Susan Allen to help her; for I think
it will take both to finish them in season.”
“An excellent plan, my dear,” the captain replied, “and I shall be
exceedingly obliged if you will undertake it, for I should sooner trust
your and mother’s taste and judgment in such things than my own.”
“Can’t I go along and help choose my own dresses, papa?” pleaded Lulu.
“If it didn’t involve neglect of lessons, you might, daughter,” the
captain answered in a very kind tone, “but as that is the case, we must
leave the selection to your mamma and Grandma Elsie.”
A slight cloud gathered on Lulu’s brow, but it cleared again, when Max
said, “You know, Lu, our school days together are almost over, and you
don’t want to miss any of them; at least I don’t, for I shall never
have another teacher so good at explaining, so kind and so fond of his
pupils, as papa.”
The lad’s voice trembled a little with the concluding words, in spite
of himself.
“I’m sure you won’t, Max, and I’m sorry for you,” returned Lulu, with a
slight sigh; “for myself too, that I’m not to have your company in the
school-room after this week.”
“Please don’t talk about it,” begged Grace, hastily wiping away a tear.
“I’ll just have to try not to think of it, or I’ll be crying all the
time.”
“Which would not be at all good for your eyes,” added her father, “so
you would better take your mamma’s advice and turn your thoughts upon
pleasant subjects. I have something to suggest; make out a list of all
the toys, books, and other presents you would like to have (supposing
some fairy should come and offer to supply them),” he interpolated with
playful look and tone, “the places you would like to visit, and all the
agreeable ways of spending your time this summer that you can manage to
contrive; and when your list is done let me see it.”
Grace knew her father well enough to feel quite certain that the making
out of such a list at his suggestion would not be labor lost.
“I will, papa,” she said, smiling through her tears; “I think I’ll
begin this afternoon, soon as my lessons are learned.”
Lulu found no small difficulty in fixing her attention upon her tasks
that morning; her thoughts would fly off, now to the Naval Academy,
where her brother was likely to be domiciled in the fall, now to the
far West, with the fresh pleasures there awaiting her father, Max, and
herself.
Glancing toward her the captain saw that, though a book lay open on the
desk before her, her eyes were fixed on vacancy. He called her to come
to him. She started, coloring deeply, rose, and obeyed.
“You are not studying,” he said, in a grave, though not unkindly, tone.
“No, sir; I meant to, but—O papa, I just can’t study when I have so
much else to think about.”
“Can’t is a lazy word, my daughter,” he replied. “You have a strong
will—which is not altogether a bad thing, though it has given both you
and me a good deal of pain and trouble in past days. I want you to
exert it now and force your truant thoughts to fix themselves upon the
business in hand. Will you not? because it is your duty, and to please
your father who loves you so dearly?”
“Indeed, I will, papa; and perhaps I shall succeed if I try with all
my might,” she answered, holding up her face for a kiss, which he gave
very heartily.
Returning to her seat, she set to work with such earnestness and
determination that when summoned to recite she was able to do so to the
entire satisfaction of both her father and herself.
Max and Grace did equally well, and tutor and scholars withdrew from
the school-room in a happy frame of mind.
A carriage was coming up the drive, bringing Grandma Elsie and Mrs.
Raymond on their return from the proposed shopping expedition, and at
once Lulu was all excitement to see what they had bought for her.
“May I see my dresses, Mamma Vi?” she asked, following Violet and her
mother through the hall and up the wide stairway.
“Yes, Lu, certainly,” replied Violet, “though I’m afraid you will not
think them very pretty to look at,” she added, with a deprecatory
smile. “You know I could only try to carry out your father’s wishes and
directions.”
“And that I am sure is just what a little girl who loves her father so
dearly, and has such confidence in his judgment, would wish to have
done,” Grandma Elsie remarked, in a pleasant tone. “I think the goods
we have selected will make up into very neat dresses, entirely suitable
for the occasions on which you expect to wear them, Lulu, my dear
child.”
“Yes, Grandma Elsie, and I mean to be satisfied, even if they don’t
look pretty to me, because I know that you and papa and Mamma Vi are
much wiser than I, and if papa is satisfied with my appearance, I
suppose it really doesn’t make any difference what other folks think,”
returned Lulu, seating herself on a sofa in her mamma’s boudoir and
undoing the package handed her by a servant.
“Three flannel dresses—a dark brown, a dark blue, and a dark green; all
beautiful shades and nice, fine material,” she commented. “I like them
better than I expected to, but—”
“Well, dear?” inquired Violet, as the little girl paused without
finishing her sentence.
“They are very pretty shades,” repeated Lulu, “but I think red—a
dark shade, most black in some lights—would be more becoming to my
complexion. Don’t you, papa?” looking up into his face as he came and
stood by her side.
“Possibly,” he answered, sitting down and drawing her to his knee, “but
there might be times when it would prove dangerous. Some animals have a
great hatred to that color, and with a red dress on you might be chased
by a turkey gobbler or some large animal,” he concluded laughingly,
hugging her up in his arms and kissing her first on one cheek, then on
the other.
“Oh, yes! I didn’t think of that!” she exclaimed with a merry laugh.
“Beside,” he continued in the same sportive tone, “so thoroughly
patriotic a young American as my Lulu surely does not want to be a
redcoat?”
“No, papa, no, indeed! that would never do for a blue-jacket’s
daughter, would it? Blue’s the right color, after all, and I’m glad
that it was the color chosen for one of the dresses.”
“And now the next thing is to go up to the sewing-room and have them
cut and fitted,” said Violet. “Alma is there, and will attend to it at
once.”
“And we’re going to have Mrs. Allen and Susan here to help too, aren’t
we?” queried Lulu, leaving her father’s knee and gathering up the new
purchases.
“There will be some parts they can work on at home,” said Violet.
“You and I will drive over with some work for them this afternoon,
Lulu,” said the captain; “and call at Fairview and Ion on our way home,
so that you can have the pleasure of telling your little friends,
Evelyn and Rosie, about the trip you are expecting to take. Here, give
me that bundle; it is a trifle heavy for you to carry, and I’ll go with
you to the sewing-room.”
“Oh, you’re just the goodest papa!” she returned merrily, readily
yielding up the package, putting her hand into his, and dancing along
by his side as he led her to the sewing-room; “you’re always contriving
something to give me pleasure. It’ll be fun to tell the girls, and I’m
in ever such a hurry to have a chance.”
“Yes, my daughter Lulu is very apt to be in a hurry,” he said, smiling
down indulgently upon her, “and it is well not to dilly dally when
there is anything to be done, yet sometimes wisest to make haste
slowly.”
“Papa, don’t tell Alma or Susan that, please,” she whispered,
in a merry aside—for they were nearing the open door of the
sewing-room—“because I want them to make haste fast this time.”
“No, only that they must be deliberate enough to make sure of doing
the work right; for otherwise it would but be the ‘more haste the less
speed.’”
“Yes, sir; I remember that old saw, and how I’ve sometimes found it
true.”
In the neat living-room of their cottage home Mrs. Allen and Susan sat
that bright June afternoon, the mother busily plying her needle, the
daughter running a sewing-machine.
The little garden was gay with flowers and the vines over the porch
were in full bloom; the drowsy hum of the bees came pleasantly in
at the open door and window, accompanied by the sweet scents of the
flowers, and now and then from an adjacent field or wood the cheery
bird call, “Bob White! Bob White!”
“How delightful it is here,” remarked Susan, stopping her machine for
a moment to readjust her work; “the air is so sweet; the sounds are
too. I like to hear that bird calling out so cheerily.”
“Yes,” rejoined her mother, “it is a very agreeable change from the old
sounds of scolding, quarrelling, screaming, and crying that used to
assail our ears in our former abode.”
“In Rose Alley? Yes, I was just thinking of that, and how hot and
stifling the air must be there to-day. O mother, I do believe I should
have been left alone in the world before now if we had had to stay on
there! When I think of that I feel that I owe a debt of gratitude to
Mrs. Travilla and Captain Raymond that I can never, never pay.”
“To them and to Him who put it into their hearts to do such great
kindness and gave them the ability,” responded her mother. “I feel like
another woman—find it a pleasure to busy myself with this beautiful
napery. See, I am at the last dozen napkins, and will be ready to
begin on those linen sheets presently. Yes, this is easy and pleasant
employment, yet I should prefer something that would keep me out of
doors most of the day. Dr. Conly says it would be the best thing for
my health, and I have a plan in my head that perhaps I may be able
to carry out if our kind friends approve, and will give me a little
assistance at the start.”
“What is that, mother?” asked Susan; then glancing from the door, “Oh,
there is the Woodburn carriage!”
She sprang up and ran down the path to open the gate for its occupants
and bid them welcome.
They were Grandma Elsie, the captain, and Lulu. They greeted her with a
pleasant, “Good-afternoon,” and kindly inquiries about her mother; then
Lulu, handing out a bundle, said, “I’ve brought you some more work,
Susan; parts of dresses for me. Alma says they are all cut and basted,
so that you won’t need any directions about them; and Mamma Vi says you
may please lay aside other work and do this as promptly as you can.”
“Yes, Miss Lulu; but won’t you all ’light and come in? A bit of
chat with you and the captain always does mother so much good, Mrs.
Travilla.”
They had not intended doing so, but that plea was powerful to Grandma
Elsie’s kind heart.
“Yes, I can spare a few minutes,” she said, in reply to the captain’s
inquiring look.
He at once alighted, assisted her to do so, and then Lulu.
They made only a short call, yet it was long enough for Grandma Elsie’s
sympathetic listening and questioning to draw from Mrs. Allen the
secret of her desire for outdoor employment of a kind not too laborious
for her slender strength, and her idea that she might find it in
bee-raising, had she the means to buy a hive, a swarm of the insects,
and a book of instructions.
“You shall have them all,” Grandma Elsie said, “everything that is
necessary to enable you to give the business a fair trial.”
“Many thanks, dear Mrs. Travilla,” returned the poor woman, tears of
gratitude springing to her eyes; “and if you will kindly consider
whatever you may advance me as a loan, I accept your kind offer most
gladly.”
“It shall be as you wish,” Mrs. Travilla replied, “but with the
distinct understanding that the loan is not to be repaid till you can
do it with perfect ease.”
“And I should be glad to have a share in the good work,” remarked
the captain. “Let it be my part to gather information on bee culture
for you, and help in raising flowers for them to gather honey from.
Doubtless they fly long distances in search of such, but it must be an
advantage to have plenty near at hand.”
“Ah, sir,” returned Mrs. Allen, “you too are always ready to do
every kindness in your power. I hope God, our heavenly Father, will
abundantly repay you both. I always think of you when reading the words
of the psalmist, ‘Blessed is he that considereth the poor’; for you
give not only money, but time and thought and sympathy, considering
their needs and how you may best supply them.”
While this talk went on in the parlor Lulu was telling Susan, out in
the living-room, what the dresses were needed for, and going into
ecstasies of delight over the prospect of her journey to the far West
with her father and Max.
Susan sympathized in her pleasure, and promised to do her best toward
getting her dresses done in season.
“To Fairview,” was the captain’s order to the coachman, when again they
were seated in the carriage.
It was but a few minutes’ drive, and on their arrival Lulu was
pleased to find Rosie there with Evelyn, so that she could have the
satisfaction of telling her news to both together, and enjoying their
surprise. It was quite as great as she had expected.
“How splendid!” cried Rosie. “You are a fortunate girl, Lu. I wonder if
I couldn’t persuade mamma and grandpa to get up some such expedition
and take me along!”
“I’m very glad for you, Lu, and hope it will be one long pleasure from
beginning to end,” Eva said; “you couldn’t have a more delightful
care-taker than your father, and Max will be good company too. But,
oh dear, how I shall miss you!” she concluded with a sigh, putting her
arms round Lulu and holding her in a close embrace.
“And I you,” said Lulu. “But when we talk that way at home papa says we
should not think about that, but about the joy of reunion when we get
home again.”
“Well, Gracie, what progress have you made with that list? Is it ready
for papa’s inspection?” the captain asked, as the children clustered
about him on the veranda after tea that evening.
“I’ve put down some things, papa, but maybe I can think up some more
before long, if I may have a little more time,” she answered, with an
arch smile up into his face.
“You can have all the time you want, darling,” he said, caressing her;
“but suppose you let me see what you have already set down.”
At that she drew a half-sheet of note-paper from her pocket and put it
into his hand.
He glanced over it and a look of amusement stole over his face. “A
spade, rake, and hoe! I thought you had garden tools,” he said.
“Yes, papa, but these are to be big ones for Sam Hill to make his
mother’s garden with. He says he always has to borrow now, and the
neighbors get tired lending to him.”
“Ah, very well, you shall have money to buy them for him. But what do
you want with twenty yards of calico and a piece of muslin?”
“Sam needs shirts, and his mother some dresses, papa.”
“And the slates and books are for the younger children?”
“Yes, sir; and those other things are for the Jones children. You know
their father doesn’t buy them anything to wear, and sometimes he takes
the clothes other folks give them and sells them to buy liquor.”
“Yes, it is very sad, and we must do the best we can for them. But you
have not put down anything for my little Grace; is there nothing she
would like to have?”
“I don’t need anything at all, papa. I have so many, many nice things
already.”
“But I want to give you something to help to keep you from being lonely
while Lulu is enjoying herself in the far West. Ah, I see there is
something! What is it?”
“A canary bird, papa, that will sing beautifully.”
“Dear child,” he said, holding her close, “you shall have the finest
that money can buy; a pair of them; and the handsomest cage we can
find. I shall take you to the city to-morrow and let you choose them
for yourself.”
“Oh, how nice, papa!” she cried, clapping her hands in delight; “then
they will have a pretty home and be company for each other. I was
afraid one would be lonesome all by itself. I was thinking, too, that
I’d be ever so lonely, at night especially, without Lu; but mamma says
she will take me in with her while you are gone.”
“Very kind and thoughtful in mamma,” was the captain’s comment.
“You’ll take me to buy them to-morrow afternoon, will you, papa?” she
asked.
“Yes; if nothing happens to prevent.”
“And mayn’t Lu and Max go along?”
“Certainly; if they want to.”
“Thank you, papa; I’ll be very much pleased to go,” Lulu said; Max
adding, “I too. So there’ll be four of us to choose your two birds,
Gracie.”
“Perhaps we may be able to persuade your mamma to go too,” the captain
said, as at that moment Violet joined them, “and then there’ll be five
of us.”
“Go where, my dear?” asked Violet, seating herself by his side.
He explained, and she accepted the invitation, with the remark that she
did not want to lose his company for a moment of the week he would be
with her before starting on his journey to the West.