A SUDDEN SUMMONS
Prythee, say on;
The setting of thine eye and cheek proclaim
A matter of moment.
I go, I go; look how I go;
Swifter than arrow from the Tartar’s bow.
SHAKESPEARE.
While the happy reunited pair spoke of future hopes and plans, Commodore
Bruce passed off to the long drawing-room, rang for his servant and sent
the man first, to go in turn to every member of the family and request
each one to come thither, and then to call every domestic in the house
to the presence of the master.
While waiting for his orders to be obeyed the old commodore walked
slowly up and down the floor, muttering to himself:
“I dare say one-half of them already know the whole truth, and the other
half shrewdly suspect it! However, I must make the announcement all the
same, I suppose.”
In a few moments the ladies of the family began to drop in. First came
Mrs. Catherine Bruce and Hermia; next Mrs. Warde and Belinda.
The commodore requested them to sit down and wait for a few minutes
longer.
At length the household servants came, with faces full of interest and
curiosity.
The old gentleman’s conjecture as to their knowledge and their
suspicions was about half right. The crowd before him knew that
something extraordinary, connected with a tramp, had occurred; but they
were far from knowing what it really was.
They stood now, eagerly waiting for the master of the house to enlighten
them.
Commodore Bruce did this in a very few words:
“I have to announce to you joyful intelligence. My son, Mr. Leonidas
Bruce, long supposed to have been lost in the wreck of the United States
ship _Eagle_, has returned unexpectedly to-day. He is now in this house,
as is also his wife, Emolyn, whom you have all heard of as the Lady of
Edengarden. They are to remain here, I hope. Those among you who
remember Mr. Bruce in his boyhood shall have an opportunity of shaking
hands with him after dinner. Later you shall hear more. This is all I
have to tell you. No! no demonstrations—not even congratulations yet! I
will have none—I——”
But before the commodore could utter another word every arm went waving
aloft over every head, and a unanimous—
“Hurrah! Hurrah! Hurrah!” burst from the crowd of servants.
“As if it were reasonable, or even possible, to prevent that!” whispered
his sister Margaret, laying her hand soothingly on the arm of the
exasperated commodore.
The old man swallowed his rising wrath and merely said to the offenders:
“Now, every man among you go quietly away to your duties! Next
Thursday—a week from to-day—being Hallow Eve, you shall all have a
thundering blow-out in honor of this joyful occasion! No! No more
hurrahing, you villains! If there should be——”
“Hurrah! Hurrah!! Hurrah!!!”
“Begone!” said the commodore with a stamp.
And they hurried away, making the welkin ring as they went with:
“Hurrah! Hurrah!! Hurrah!!!”
“You really cannot expect anything else, and you should not blame them,”
said Mrs. Templeton, the peacemaker.
The commodore relieved his feelings by striking his thick cane down
heavily upon the floor.
“But, now that the servants are gone, uncle, for Heaven’s sake tell _us_
all about this wonderful return,” exclaimed Hermia.
“Yes, pray do!” chorused all the other ladies.
The old man looked at them mockingly for a space, and then said bluntly:
“I WON’T! I have had excitement enough for one day, and now I am going
to my room to smoke. You’ll all see Lonny and his wife at dinner. Yet
stay—in this connection I would add that the young girl, Emolyn Palmer,
who was our inmate a few weeks ago, is now the cherished pet of the Lady
of Edengarden, in consideration of which I have sent for her to come and
join us at dinner, and she will probably remain our guest as long as her
benefactress is pleased to stay. Now pray ask no more questions, my
dear, for I have no more explanations to make at present. Mrs. Warde,
you look pale. I hope you are not indisposed.”
“Thanks, no; I am as well as usual,” answered the widow in a constrained
voice.
“I am glad to hear it. I want every one to feel well on this happy day.
Ladies, in good time you _shall_ hear ‘all about it;’ but for the
present I must leave you and seek needful repose.”
And so saying, with his ceremonious old bow, the commodore left the
room.
Mrs. Warde stepped away to hide her agitation that the news of Lonny’s
return and the mention of his wife’s name had raised in her conscious
soul.
The other ladies remained for a few minutes, talking over the
extraordinary event of the day, and then separated to go to their rooms
and prepare a special toilet for the occasion.
Meanwhile Commodore Bruce had sought the refuge of his library, dropped
with a sigh of relief into his easy-chair, and delivered himself to
repose.
But his rest was of short duration. He had set too many wires in motion
that day to be left long in quietness. He was soon interrupted by the
entrance of Ronald with Em., just arrived from Edengarden.
They both entered the room looking so innocently and frankly happy that
the old man could not but receive them very cordially.
“Well, Ronald, I never knew you to do an errand so quickly in all the
days of my life before. I commend you, my lad,” he said in good-humored
raillery of the young lover.
Then, holding out his hand to Em., he smiled on her, saying:
“Come hither, my child, and kiss me. Now, am I not a good-natured old
muff to let that young coxcomb have you, when I am so fond of you
myself?” he continued, as he put his arm around her waist and drew her
to his side in a fatherly embrace. “Say, am I not very, _very_ good to
the young puppy?”
“You are ‘very, very good’ to _me_, sir,” said Em., raising his withered
hand to her lips.
“To _him_, miss, to _him_. As for you, I do not know but that I am doing
you a mischief in consenting to this marriage. But, there, I have
consented and shall not retract. I suppose that fellow has told you so,
and also everything else that has happened here to-day?”
“Oh, yes, sir, and I am so glad and thankful that your son has returned.
Oh! if I could only _tell_ you how glad and thankful,” earnestly
exclaimed Em. as the tears rushed to her eyes.
“_That_ tells _me_! And now I have something else to tell you. This
dear, only son of mine is also the beloved husband of your benefactress,
Em.—of your lovely Lady of Edengarden, Ronald!” exclaimed the commodore.
Both the young people opened their eyes in astonishment, and would have
opened their lips in inquiry had not the commodore prevented them by
nervously exclaiming:
“No questions! No comments! You will find out everything in time. Ring
the bell, Ronald.”
The young man silently obeyed.
The hall footman appeared.
“Send the girl Liza here,” said the old man.
In a few moments the girl appeared.
“You waited on Miss Palmer when she was here before, did you not?”
inquired her master.
“Yes, sir.”
“Then show this young lady to the best spare room in the house, and make
her comfortable,” said the commodore.
Em. kissed the old man’s hand and followed the girl.
“Now, my lad, do you also go about your business! I expect to have a row
with your mother about consenting to this marriage; but I guess I know
how to persuade _her_. And now I must smoke my pipe in peace.”
“And doze, if you can, uncle! Indeed, I hope you will,” said Ronald as
he turned to leave the room.
“There’s but little time left for _that_ before dinner,” muttered the
commodore as he settled for a nap.
As Em. went upstairs, attended by Liza, she asked the girl:
“Don’t you think I might have the room in the attic that I had before?”
“Surely, Miss Em., if you refers dat one; but dere’s heap betters.”
“I prefer that one.”
“Now, ain’t dat so funny!” exclaimed the girl.
“What funny? My preferring the attic chamber to a finer one?” inquired
the guest.
“No, Miss Em., not dat; but I’ll jes’ tell you. It _was_ funny. Why,
Miss Em., when you went away so suddint I did feel so lonesome ’dout you
dat I mos’ cried my eyes out. And den I cleaned up your room, and
cleaned out de fireplace, and piled shavin’s and pine cones and pine
sticks and hickory logs inter it, ready to light a fire at a minute’s
warning, ’caze I ax myself maybe if I keeps de room ready for her it
will work on de sperrits in some ’sterious way so she may come back!
And, sure ’nough, here you is, and your room all ready for you. It _is_
funny. Come in, Miss Em.,” concluded Liza, for they had now reached the
attic landing and the chamber door.
Liza entered first, took a match from the mantelpiece and lighted the
combustibles under the hickory sticks across the andirons, and soon had
a bright, blazing fire.
Then she took Em.’s traveling-bag from her hands and began to unbutton
her waterproof, which was fastened from her neck to her feet.
When this was done Em. threw off her cloak and unpinned a looped skirt
and shook it down, and appeared in a simple but elegant blue silk dress,
trimmed on the bosom and sleeves with pure Valenciennes lace.
“Why, Miss EM.!” cried the little maid in glad surprise. “If that ain’t
jes’ like Cinderella!”
“Lieutenant Bruce told me there was to be company at dinner, and so I
put on the best dress I owned—a present from my benefactress—to grace
it,” she explained as she went to the glass to rearrange her golden
auburn hair.
“Let me run to the deservatory for some white roses, Miss Em., one for
your head an’ one for your breas’. I won’t be gone long!” exclaimed
Liza, dashing out of the room without waiting for an answer.
She soon returned, bringing a bunch of fresh, half-open white roses,
which Em., after thanking the girl warmly, arranged in her hair and on
her bosom.
She had just put these finishing touches to her toilet when the
dinner-bell rang.
“That’s the last bell, Miss Em. The first one rang half an hour ago,
’fore you ’rived, I reckon,” said Liza.
“I am quite ready,” said the young lady as she passed out of the room
and went downstairs.
On entering the drawing-room she found the family assembled there. A
group near the upper end fixed her attention.
A tall, dark, handsome man, whom she instantly recognized by his
portrait to be Leonidas Bruce, stood with the Lady of Edengarden leaning
on his arm. Near them stood Commodore Bruce and his sister. Not far off
were all the other members of the family circle.
As Em. entered her benefactress dropped the arm of the gentleman on whom
she had been leaning and advanced to meet her youthful protégée.
“Come, my love, you have heard how happy we are all rendered by Mr.
Bruce’s return. I wish to present you to him,” said the lady as she drew
the girl’s arm within her own and led her straight up to the gentleman.
“This is my dear young friend, Emolyn Palmer, Mr. Bruce, and I know you
will love her for her own sake as well as for mine.”
“She is enough like you to be your sister. I am very glad to see her,”
replied Lonny as he offered his hand to the timid child before him.
“I hope you will let me say how rejoiced I am at your return and at your
happiness,” said Em. shyly.
“Thank you, my dear girl. I hope you will be as happy with us both as
you have been with your friend here.”
“Oh, indeed I _know_ I shall be even much happier,” replied the girl;
and if she could have spoken her whole thoughts she would have added:
“For—I do not understand it, but—I love you just as much as I do love
her.”
Em.’s lips did not utter this, but her radiant face said a great deal
more.
Then she received and returned the greetings of the other ladies.
“Well, we are waiting for Dr. Willet and Mrs. Warde,” said the
commodore.
“Dr. Willet has not yet returned from the Wilderness, and Mrs. Warde is
too much indisposed to join us. We need not wait for either,” said Mrs.
Catherine Bruce.
“Very well, then, we won’t! Leonidas, bring Emolyn in to dinner. Ronald,
take Miss Palmer. Catherine, allow me,” said the commodore as he gave
his arm to his sister-in-law and led the way to the dining-room, where
the housekeeper had laid a sumptuous feast in honor of the
newly-arrived.
That was a memorable dinner. Every one enjoyed it, and no one more than
the reunited couple and the young lovers.
When the cloth was removed a few toasts were drunk—to the returned
traveler, to the reunited husband and wife, and finally to the
commodore.
When the ladies rose to leave the table the gentlemen did not, on this
occasion, linger over their wine, but followed them at once to the
drawing-room.
It was nine o’clock, and they were at the height of their enjoyment of
this family reunion when the clatter of a horse’s hoofs was heard
rapidly galloping up the rocky road leading to the gate of the yard.
Before any one could hazard a conjecture on the subject the hall door
was opened and the voice of Dr. Willet heard in excited tones demanding:
“Where is your master?”
The footman was heard to reply:
“In the drawing-room, sir.”
On this Commodore Bruce started up, exclaiming:
“What now?” and he left the room.
He met the doctor full tilt at the door.
“Commodore Bruce, there is not a moment to be lost! I ordered the
carriage as I came through the stable yard!”
“But what is the matter?” demanded the commodore of the excited speaker.
“I have a most startling and important revelation from the dying woman,
Ann Whitlock, who has partly recovered her speech. It is a revelation
that must be received under oath in presence of a magistrate. It is in
your capacity as a justice of the peace that I want you at the bedside
of this dying woman.”
“I will be ready in five minutes,” replied the commodore with his old
martial promptitude.
“And not only yourself, but your son, Leonidas Bruce, his wife, Emolyn,
and the young girl whom we have known only as Em. Palmer.”
“What! Do you mean to say that they must go, too?”
“Yes.”
“But what have _they_ to do with this?”
“Everything! Everything connected with their honor, prosperity and
happiness.”