CHAPTER FIRST.

"Oh! there is one affection which no stain

Of earth can ever darken;--when two find,

The softer and the manlier, that a chain

Of kindred taste has fastened mind to mind."

--PERCIVAL'S POEMS.

In one of the cool green alleys at the Oaks, Rose and Adelaide Dinsmore

were pacing slowly to and fro, each with an arm about the other's waist,

in girlish fashion, while they conversed together in low, confidential

tones.

At a little distance to one side, the young son and heir had thrown

himself prone upon the grass in the shade of a magnificent oak, story-book

in hand. Much interested he seemed in his book, yet occasionally his eye

would wander from its fascinating pages to watch, with pride and delight,

the tiny Rosebud steady herself against a tree, then run with eager,

tottering steps and a crow of delight into her nurse's outstretched arms,

to be hugged, kissed, praised, and coaxed to try it over again.

As Rose and Adelaide turned at one end of the alley, Mr. Horace Dinsmore

entered it at the other. Hurriedly approaching the little toddler, he

stooped and held out his hands, saying, in tender, half-tremulous tones,

"Come, darling, come to papa."

She ran into his arms, crying, "Papa," in her sweet baby voice, and

catching her up, he covered her face with kisses; then, holding her

clasped fondly to his breast, walked on towards his wife and sister.

"What is it, Horace?" asked Rose anxiously, as they neared each other; for

she saw that his face was pale and troubled.

"I bring you strange tidings, my Rose," he answered low and sadly, as she

laid her hand upon his arm with an affectionate look up into his face.

Hers grew pale. "Bad news from home?" she almost gasped.

"No, no; I've had no word from our absent relatives or friends, and I'm

not sure I ought to call it bad news either; though I cannot yet think of

it with equanimity, it has come upon me so suddenly."

"What?" asked both ladies in a breath; "don't keep us in suspense."

"It has been going on for years--on his part--I can see it now--but, blind

fool that I was, I never suspected it till to-day, when it came upon me

like a thunderbolt."

"What? who?"

"Travilla; after years of patient waiting he has won her at last--our

darling--and--and I've given her to him."

Both ladies stood dumb with astonishment, while young Horace, who had come

running up in time to catch the last words, cried out with vehemence,

"Papa! what! give our Elsie away? how could you? how can we ever do

without her? But she shan't go, for she belongs to me too, and I'll

_never_ give consent!"

Mr. Dinsmore and the ladies smiled faintly.

"They seemed to think mine quite sufficient, Horace," replied his father,

"and I'm afraid will hardly consider it necessary to ask yours."

"But, papa, we can't spare her--you know we can't--and why should you go

and give her away to Mr. Travilla or anybody?"

"My son, had I refused, it would have caused her great unhappiness."

"Then she ought to be ashamed to go and love Mr. Travilla better than you

and all of us."

"I was never more astonished in my life!" cried Adelaide.

"Nor I," said Rose. "And he's a great deal too old for her."

"That is an objection," replied her husband, "but if not insuperable to

her, need not be to us."

"Think of your intimate friend addressing you as father!" laughed

Adelaide; "it's really too ridiculous."

"That need not be--is not an inevitable consequence of the match," smiled

Mr. Dinsmore, softly caressing the little one clinging about his neck.

Still conversing on the same subject, the minds of all being full of it to

the exclusion of every other, they moved on as if by common consent

towards the house.

"Do you think it can be possible that she is really and truly in love with

him?" queried Rose; "a man so much older than herself, and so intimate in

the family since her early childhood."

"Judge for yourself, my dear," said Mr. Dinsmore, as a turn in the path

brought them within a few yards of the lovers, who were moving slowly in

their direction so that the two parties must meet in another moment.

One glance at the beaming faces, the rich color coming and going in

Elsie's cheek, the soft, glad light in her sweet brown eyes, was a

sufficient reply to Rose's question. She looked at her husband with a

satisfied smile, which he returned.

But little Horace, leaving his father's side, rushed up to Elsie, and

catching her hand in his, cried, "I'll never give my consent! and you

belong to me. Mr. Travilla, you can't have her."

To the child's surprise Elsie only blushed and smiled, while Mr. Travilla,

without the slightest appearance of alarm or vexation, said, "Ah, my dear

boy, you may just as well; for she is willing to be mine and your papa has

given her to me."

But the others had come up, and inquiring looks, smiles and kindly

greetings were exchanged.

"Mr. Travilla," said Rose, half playfully but with a tear trembling in her

eye, "you have stolen a march upon us, and I can hardly forgive you just

yet."

"I regret that exceedingly, my dear madam," he answered, with a smile that

belied his words. "But Miss Adelaide, you will still stand my friend?"

"I don't know," she answered demurely; "there's only one serious objection

in my mind (if Elsie is satisfied); that I don't quite fancy having a

nephew some years older than myself."

"Ah! well, I shall be quite willing to be considered a brother-in-law."

"Company to dinner!" shouted Horace. "I see a carriage; don't you, papa?"

"It is your Uncle Edward's," said Mr. Travilla.

"Yes," said Adelaide, "Lora and her tribe are in it, no doubt; and

probably Mrs. Bowles too (Carrie Howard you know, Elsie). They have been

late in calling."

"Some good reason for it, and they are none the less welcome," remarked

Rose, quickening her pace.

The one party reached the house just as the other two had fairly alighted,

and a scene of joyous greeting ensued.

"You dear child! how good of you to come back to us again, and single

too," exclaimed Mrs. Bowles, clasping Elsie in a warm embrace; "I'd almost

given it up, and expected by every mail to hear you had become Lady or

Countess this, or Duchess that."

Elsie smiled and blushed, and meeting the eye of her betrothed fixed for

an instant upon her with an expression of unutterable content,

thankfulness, love and pride, smiled and blushed again.

Carrie caught the look and its effect upon her friend, and almost

breathless with astonishment, took the first opportunity, after all were

seated in the drawing-room, to prefer a whispered request to be taken to

Elsie's own private apartment for a moment, to see that her hair and dress

were in proper order.

They had come to spend the day, and bonnets and shawls had already been

carried away by the servants in attendance.

"Now girls, don't run off for an interminable chat by yourselves," said

Mrs. Howard, as the two rose and crossed the room together.

"No, Aunt Lora, we'll not stay long," said Elsie; "for I want to improve

every moment of your visit, in renewing my acquaintance with you and my

young cousins."

"Your family has grown, Lora," remarked her brother.

"Yes, rather faster than yours," she said, looking round with pride upon

her little group of four boys, and a girl yet in her nurse's arms. "Go and

speak to your uncle, Ned, Walter, Horace, and Arthur. You see I have given

you a namesake; and this little pet we call Rose Louise, for her two

aunties. Yours is Rose, too! and what a darling! and how little Horace has

grown!"

"Elsie, it can't be possible!" cried Carrie, the instant they found

themselves alone.

"What can't?" and Elsie's blush and smile were charming.

"That you and Mr. Travilla are lovers! I saw it in your faces; but, 'tis

too absurd! Why, he's your father's friend, and nearly as old."

"All the wiser and better for that, Carrie, dear. But he is young in

heart, and far from looking old, I think. I have grown so sick of your

silly, brainless fops, who expect women neither to talk sense nor

understand it."

"Ah, I dare say! and Mr. Travilla is the most sensible and polished of

men--always excepting my own spouse, of course. And you won't be taken

away from us; so I give my consent."

Elsie's only answer was a mirthful, amused look.

"Oh, but I am glad to see you back!" Carrie ran on. "It seems an age since

you went away."

"Thank you. And your husband? what is he like?"

"I was never good at description, but he is a fine specimen of a Kentucky

planter, and very fond of his wife. By the way, you must blame me that

Edward and Lora were so late in welcoming you home. I arrived only

yesterday morning, quite fatigued with my journey, and begged them to wait

till to-day, and bring me with them."

"That was right. We have not seen Enna yet, or Arthur. Grandpa and Mrs.

Dinsmore and Walter called yesterday. But there is the dinner-bell. Let me

conduct you to the dining-room."

They were just in time to sit down with the others.

Elsie quickly perceived by her Aunt Lora's look and manner, that she, too,

had heard the news, but no remark was make on the subject till the ladies

had retired to the drawing-room, leaving the gentlemen to the enjoyment of

their after-dinner cigars.

Then Mrs. Howard, facing round upon her niece as they entered the room,

exclaimed, "Elsie, you naughty child! are you not ashamed of yourself?"

"On account of what, auntie?"

"Such unconscious innocence!" cried Lora, throwing up the white and

jeweled hands she had rested lightly for an instant upon the young girl's

shoulder, while gazing steadily into the smiling, blushing, sparkling

face. "You haven't been planning and promising to give Adelaide and me a

nephew older than ourselves? I tell you, miss, I refuse my consent. Why,

it's absurd! the very idea! I used to think him almost an elderly

gentleman when you were a chit of eight or nine."

"I remember having had some such idea myself; but he must have been

growing young since then," returned Elsie, demurely.

"He seems to have been standing still (waiting for you, I suppose); but I

never was more astonished in my life!" said Lora, dropping into a chair.

"It has been a genuine surprise to us all," remarked Rose.

"To me as much as anyone, mamma," said Elsie. "I--had thought he was

engaged to you, Aunt Adie."

"To _me_, child!"

"Why, my dear, I surely told you about her engagement to my brother

Edward?" exclaimed Adelaide and Rose simultaneously.

"You tried, mamma, and it was all my own fault that I did not hear the

whole truth. And, Aunt Adie, I cannot understand how he could ever fancy

me, while he might have hoped there was a possibility of winning you."

"'Twould have been a much more suitable match," said Lora. "Though I'd

have preferred the one in contemplation, except that in the other case,

she would not be carried quite away from us. But suppose we proceed to

business. We should have a double wedding, I think."

"Oh, don't talk of it yet," said Rose, with a slight tremble in her voice,

and looking at Elsie's flushed, conscious face with eyes full of unshed

tears. "Adelaide's is to be within the next two months, and--we cannot

give up Elsie so suddenly."

"Of course not," said Adelaide; "and I should have serious objections to

being used as a foil to Elsie's youth and beauty."

The Howards and Mr. Travilla stayed to tea, and shortly before that meal

the party was increased by the arrival of Walter Dinsmore and Mrs. Dick

Percival.

Enna had lost flesh and color; and long indulgence of a fretful, peevish

temper had drawn down the corners of her mouth, lined her forehead, and

left its ugly pencilings here and there over the once pretty face, so that

it already began to look old and care-worn. She was very gayly dressed, in

the height of the fashion, and rather overloaded with jewelry; but powder

and rouge could not altogether conceal the ravages of discontent and

passion. She was conscious of the fact, and inwardly dwelt with

mortification and chagrin upon the contrast presented by her own faded

face to that of Elsie, so fair and blooming, so almost childish in its

sweet purity and innocence of expression.

"So you are single yet," Enna said, with a covert sneer; "and not likely

to marry either, so far as I've been able to learn. They'll soon begin to

call you an old maid."

"Will they?" said Mr. Dinsmore, with a laugh in which all present joined,

Enna herself excepted; "well, if she is a fair specimen of that

much-abused class, they are far more attractive than is generally

supposed."

"You needn't laugh," said Enna; "I was four years younger than she is now,

when I married. I wasn't going to wait till they began to call me an old

maid."

"To bear that reproach is not the worst calamity that can befall a woman,"

replied Mr. Dinsmore gravely; then changed the subject by a kind inquiry

in regard to Arthur.

"Slowly and steadily improving," answered Walter. "The doctors are now

satisfied that he is not permanently crippled, though he still uses a

crutch."

Elsie's Womanhood · 第 7 / 41 题