"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."
--ROGERS' HUMAN LIFE.
At the set time our friends turned their faces homeward, leaving their
loving dependents of Viamede all drowned in tears. In the six weeks of
their stay, "Massa" an' "Missus" had become very dear to those warm,
childlike hearts.
Elsie could not refrain from letting fall some bright sympathetic drops,
though the next moment her heart bounded with joy at the thought of home
and father. The yearning to hear again the tones of his loved voice, to
feel the clasp of his arm and the touch of his lip upon brow and cheek and
lip, increased with every hour of the rapid journey.
Its last stage was taken in the Ion family carriage, which was found
waiting for them at the depot.
Elsie was hiding in her own breast a longing desire to go first to the
Oaks, chiding herself for the wish, since her husband was doubtless fully
as anxious to see his mother, and wondering why she had not thought of
asking for a gathering of both families at the one place or the other.
They had left the noisy city far behind, and were bowling smoothly along
a very pleasant part of the road, bordered with greensward and shaded on
either side by noble forest trees; she with her mind filled with these
musings, sitting silent and pensive, gazing dreamily from the window.
Suddenly her eyes encountered a well-known noble form, seated on a
beautiful spirited horse, which he was holding in with a strong and
resolute hand.
"Papa!" she exclaimed, with a joyous, ringing cry; and instantly he had
dismounted, his servant taking Selim's bridle-reins, the carriage had
stopped, and springing out she was in his arms.
"My dear father, I was so hungry to see you," she said, almost crying for
joy. "How good of you to come to meet us, and so much nicer here than in
the crowded depot."
"Good of me," he answered, with a happy laugh. "Of course, as I was in no
haste to have my darling in my arms. Ah, Travilla, my old friend, I am
very glad to see your pleasant face again." And he shook hands warmly.
"Many thanks to you (and to a higher power)," he added reverently, "for
bringing her safely back to me. She seems to have been well taken care of;
plump and bright and rosy."
"I have been, papa; even you could not be more tender and careful of me
than--my husband is."
Her father smiled at the shy, half-hesitating way in which the last word
slipped from the rich red lips, and the tender, loving light in the soft
eyes as they met the fond, admiring gaze of Travilla's.
"No repentance on either side yet, I see," he said laughingly. "Travilla,
your mother is in excellent health and spirits; but impatient to embrace
both son and daughter, she bade me say. We all take tea by invitation at
Ion to-day; that is, we of the Oaks, including Aunt Wealthy and Miss
King."
"Oh, how nice! how kind!" cried Elsie.
"And to-morrow you are all to be at the Oaks!" added her father. "Now
shall I ride beside your carriage? or take a seat in it with you?"
"The latter, by all means," answered Travilla, Elsie's sparkling eyes
saying the same, even more emphatically.
"Take Selim home, and see that both he and the family carriage are at Ion
by nine this evening," was Mr. Dinsmore's order to his servant.
"Ah, papa! so early!" Elsie interposed, in a tone that was half reproach,
half entreaty.
"We must not keep you up late after your journey, my child," he answered,
following her into the carriage, Mr. Travilla stepping in after.
"The seats are meant for three; let me sit between you, please," requested
Elsie.
"But are you not afraid of crushing your dress?" asked her father
jocosely, making room for her by his side.
"Not I," she answered gayly, slipping into her chosen place with a light,
joyous laugh, and giving a hand to each. "Now I'm the happiest woman in
the world."
"As you deserve to be," whispered her husband, clasping tight the hand he
held.
"Oh, you flatterer!" she returned. "Papa, did you miss me?"
"Every day, every hour. Did I not tell you so in my letters? And you? did
you think often of me?"
"Oftener than I can tell."
"I have been wondering," he said, looking gravely into her eyes, "why you
both so carefully avoided the slightest allusion to that most exciting
episode of your stay at Viamede."