She twin'd--and her mother's gaze brought back
Each hue of her childhood's faded track.
Oh! hush the song, and let her tears
Flow to the dream of her early years!
Holy and pure are the drops that fall
When the young bride goes from her father's hall;
She goes unto love yet untried and new--
She parts from love which hath still been true.
--MRS. HEMANS' POEMS.
"How did it happen that Mr. Dinsmore was not of your party last night,
Miss Stevens?" inquired one of the lady boarders the next morning at
the breakfast-table.
"He had been riding all the morning with his little girl, and I
presume was too much fatigued to go again in the evening," Miss
Stevens coolly replied, as she broke an egg into her cup, and
proceeded very deliberately to season it.
"It seems he was not too much fatigued to walk," returned the other, a
little maliciously; "or to take a lady upon his arm."
Miss Stevens started, and looked up hastily.
"I would advise you to be on your guard, and play your cards well,
or that quiet Miss Allison may prove a serious rival," the lady
continued. "He certainly pays her a good deal of attention."
"It is easy to account for that," remarked Miss Stevens, with a
scornful toss of the head; "he is very fond of his little girl, and
takes her out walking or riding every day, and this Miss Allison--who
is, I presume, a kind of governess--indeed, it is evident that she
is, from the care she takes of the child--goes along as a matter of
course; but if you think Horace Dinsmore would look at a governess,
you are greatly mistaken, for he is as proud as Lucifer, as well as
the rest of his family, though he does set up to be so very pious!"
"Excuse me, madam," observed a gentleman sitting near, "but you must
be laboring under a misapprehension. I am well acquainted with the
Allison family, and can assure you that the father is one of the
wealthiest merchants in Philadelphia."
At this moment Mr. Dinsmore entered with Rose upon his arm, and
leading Elsie with the other hand. They drew near the table; he handed
Miss Allison to a seat and took his place beside her.
A slight murmur of surprise ran round the table, and all eyes were
turned upon Rose, who, feeling uncomfortably conscious of the fact,
cast down her own in modest embarrassment, while Elsie, with a face
all smiles and dimples, sent a triumphant glance across the table at
Annie Hart, who was whispering to her mother, "See, mamma, she has Mr.
Dinsmore's ring!"
That lady immediately called Miss Stevens' attention to it, which was
quite unnecessary, as she was already burning with rage at the sight.
"They walked out alone last evening, and that ring explains what they
were about," said Mrs. Hart, in an undertone. "I am really sorry for
you, Miss Stevens; for your prize has certainly slipped through your
fingers."
"I am much obliged to you," she replied, with a toss of her head; "but
there are as good fish in the sea as ever were caught."
The next moment she rose and left the table, Mrs. Hart following her
into the public parlor, and continuing the conversation by remarking,
"I would sue him for breach of promise if I were you, Miss Stevens. I
understood you were engaged to him."
"I never said so; so what right had you to suppose it?" returned Miss
Stevens snappishly.
And upon reflecting a moment, Mrs. Hart could not remember that she
had ever said so in plain terms, although she had hinted it many
times--talking a great deal of Mr. Dinsmore's splendid establishment,
and frequently speaking of the changes she thought would be desirable
in Elsie's dress, just as though she expected some day to have it
under her control. Then, too, she had always treated Mr. Dinsmore with
so much familiarity that it was perfectly natural strangers should
suppose they were engaged, even though he never reciprocated it;
for that might be only because he was naturally reserved and
undemonstrative; as indeed Miss Stevens frequently averred, seeming to
regret it very deeply.
Presently she burst out, "I don't know why people are always so ready
to talk! I don't care for Horace Dinsmore, and never did! There was
never anything serious between us, though I must say he has paid me
marked attentions, and given me every reason to suppose he meant
something by them. I never gave him any encouragement, however; and so
he has been taken in by that artful creature. I thought he had more
sense, and could see through her manoeuvers--coaxing and petting up
the child to curry favor with the father! I thank my stars that I am
above such mean tricks! I presume she thinks, now, she is making a
splendid match; but if she doesn't repent of her bargain before she
has been married a year, I miss my guess! She'll never have her own
way--not a bit of it--I can tell her that. Everybody that knows
him will tell you that he is high-tempered and tyrannical, and as
obstinate as a mule."
"The grapes are very sour, I think," whispered Mrs. Hart to her next
neighbor, who nodded and laughed.
"There is Elsie out on the veranda, now," said Annie. "I mean to
go and ask her what Miss Allison had her father's ring for; may I,
mamma?"
"Yes; go, child, if you want to; I should like to hear what she will
say; though, of course, everybody understands that there must be an
engagement."
"Well, Elsie, what made you run away in such a hurry yesterday?" asked
Annie, running up to our little friend. "Did you ask your papa about
the new mamma?"
"I told him what you said, Annie, and it wasn't true," Elsie answered,
with a glad look of joy. "I am going to have a new mother though, and
papa said I might tell you; but it is Miss Allison instead of Miss
Stevens, and I am very glad, because I love her dearly."
"Is she your governess?"
"No, indeed! what made you ask?"
"Miss Stevens said so," replied Annie, laughing and running away. And
just then Elsie's papa called her, and bade her go upstairs and have
her hat put on, as they were going out to walk.
Edward Allison had been talking with his sister in her room, and they
came down together to the veranda, where Mr. Dinsmore and Elsie were
waiting for them. Edward was looking very proud and happy, but Rose's
face was half hidden by her veil. She took Mr. Dinsmore's offered arm
and Elsie asked, "Aren't you going with us, Mr. Edward?"
"Not this time," he answered, smiling. "I have an engagement to play a
game of chess with one of the ladies in the parlor yonder."
"Then I shall have papa's other hand," she said, taking possession of
it.
She was very merry and talkative, but neither of her companions seemed
much disposed to answer her remarks. They were following the same path
they had taken the night before, and the thoughts of both were very
busy with the past and the future.
At length they reached the rustic seat where they had sat while Mr.
Dinsmore told his story, and he inquired of Rose if she would like to
stop and rest.
She assented, recognizing the place with a smile and a blush, and they
sat down.
"Papa," said Elsie, "I am not tired, mayn't I run on to the top of
that hill yonder?"
"Yes, if you will not go out of sight or hearing, so that I can see
that you are safe, and within call when I want you," he replied, and
she bounded away.
Rose was sitting thoughtfully, with her eyes upon the ground, while
those of her companion were following the graceful figure of his
little girl, as she tripped lightly along the road.
"Mr. Dinsmore," Rose began.
"I beg pardon, but were you speaking to me?" he asked, turning to her
with a half smile.
"Certainly," she replied, smiling in return; "there is no one else
here."
"Well then, Rose, dear, please to remember that I don't answer to that
name from your lips, at least not when we are alone. I am not Mr.
Dinsmore to you, unless you mean to be Miss Allison to me," he added,
taking her hand and gazing tenderly into her blushing face.
"Oh! no, no; I would not have you call me that!"
"Well then, dear Rose, I want you to call me Horace. I would almost as
soon think of being Mr. Dinsmore to Elsie, as to you. And now, what
were you going to say to me?"
"Only that I wish to set out on my homeward way to-night, with Edward.
I think it would be best, more especially as mamma has written
complaining of our long absence, and urging a speedy return."
"Of course your mother's wishes are the first to be consulted, until
you have given me a prior right," he said, in a playful tone; "and
so I suppose Elsie and I will be obliged to continue our journey by
ourselves. But when may I claim you for my own indeed? Let it be as
soon as possible, dearest, for I feel that I ought to return to my
home ere long, and I am not willing to do so without my wife."
"I must have a few weeks to prepare; you know a lady's wardrobe cannot
be got ready in a day. What would you say to six weeks? I am afraid
mamma would think it entirely too short."
"Six weeks, dear Rose? why that would bring us to the middle of
November. Surely a month will be long enough to keep me waiting for my
happiness, and give the dressmakers sufficient time for their work.
Let us say one month from to-day."
Rose raised one objection after another, but he overruled them all and
pleaded his cause so earnestly that he gained his point at last, and
the wedding was fixed for that day month, provided the consent of
her parents, to so sudden a parting with their daughter, could be
obtained.
While Rose was at home making her preparations, Mr. Dinsmore and his
daughter were visiting the great lakes, and travelling through Canada.
He heard frequently from her, and there were always a few lines
to Elsie, which her father allowed her to answer in a little note
enclosed in his; and sometimes he read her a little of his own, or of
Miss Rose's letter, which she always considered a very great treat.
New York City was their last halting place on their route, and there
they spent nearly two weeks in shopping and sight-seeing. Mr. Dinsmore
purchased an elegant set of furniture for his wife's boudoir, and
sent it on to his home, with his orders to Mrs. Murray concerning
its arrangement. To this he added a splendid set of diamonds as his
wedding gift to his bride, while Elsie selected a pair of very costly
bracelets as hers.
They arrived in Philadelphia on Tuesday afternoon, the next morning
being the time appointed for the wedding. Mr. Dinsmore himself went to
his hotel, but sent Elsie and her nurse to Mr. Allison's, as he had
been urgently requested to do, the family being now in occupation of
their town residence.
Elsie found the whole house in a bustle of preparation. Sophy met her
at the door and carried her off at once to her own room, eager to
display what she called "her wedding dress." She was quite satisfied
with the admiration Elsie expressed. "But I suppose you bought ever so
many new dresses, and lots of other pretty things, in New York?" she
said inquiringly.
"Yes; papa and I together. And don't you think, Sophy, he let me help
him choose some of his clothes, and he says he thinks I have very good
taste in ladies' and gentlemen's dress too."
"That was right kind of him, but isn't it odd, and real nice too, that
he and Rose are going to get married? I was so surprised. Do you like
it, Elsie? and shall you call her mamma?"
"Oh, yes, of course. I should be quite wretched if papa were going to
marry any one else; but I love Miss Rose dearly, and I am very glad
she is coming to us. I think it is very good of her, and papa thinks
so too."
"Yes," replied Sophy honestly, "and so do I; for I am sure I shouldn't
like to leave papa and mamma and go away off there to live, though I
do like you very much, Elsie, and your papa too. Only think! he is
going to be my brother; and then won't you be some sort of relation
too? I guess I'll be your aunt, won't I?"
"I don't know; I haven't thought about it," said Elsie; while at the
same instant Harold put his head in at the half-open door, saying, "Of
course you will; and I'll be her uncle."
The little girls were quite startled at first, but seeing who it was,
Elsie ran towards him, holding out her hand.
"How do you do, Harold?" she said; "I am glad to see you."
He had his satchel of books on his arm. "Thank you, how are you? I
am rejoiced to see you looking so well, but, as for me, I am quite
sick--of lessons," he replied in a melancholy tone, and putting on a
comically doleful expression.
Elsie laughed and shook her head. "I thought you ware a good boy and
quite fond of your books."
"Commonly, I believe I am, but not in these wedding times. It's quite
too bad of your father, Elsie, to be carrying off Rose, when he won't
let us have you. But never mind, I'll be even with him some of these
days;" and he gave her a meaning look.
"Come in Harold, and put your books down," said Sophy; "you can afford
to spend a few minutes talking to Elsie, can't you?"
"I think I will!" he replied, accepting her invitation.
They chatted for some time, and then Adelaide came in. Elsie had heard
that she was coming on to be first bridesmaid. "Elsie, dear, how
glad I am to see you! and how well and happy you are looking!" she
exclaimed, folding her little niece in her arms, and kissing her
fondly. "But come," she added, taking her by the hand and leading her
into the next room, "Miss Rose came in from her shopping only a few
minutes ago, and she wants to see you."
Rose was standing by the toilet-table, gazing intently, with a blush
and a smile, at something she held in her hand. She laid it down as
they came in, and embracing the little girl affectionately, said how
very glad she was to see her.
Then, turning to the table again, she took up what she had been
looking at--which proved to be a miniature of Mr. Dinsmore--and
handed it to Adelaide, saying, "Is it not excellent? and so kind and
thoughtful of him to give it to me."
"It is indeed a most perfect likeness," Adelaide replied. "Horace is
very thoughtful about these little matters. I hope he will make you
very happy, dear Rose. I cannot tell you how glad I was when I heard
you were to be my sister."
"You have seemed like a sister to me ever since the winter I spent
with you," said Rose. And then she began questioning Elsie about her
journey asking if she were not fatigued, and would not like to lie
down and rest a little before tea.
"No thank you," Elsie said; "you know it is only a short trip from New
York, and I am not at all tired."
Just then the tea-bell rang, and Rose laughed and said it was well
Elsie had not accepted her invitation.
On going down to tea they found Mr. Dinsmore and Mr. Travilla there.
Elsie was delighted to meet her old friend, and it was evident that he
had already made himself a favorite with all the children, from Harold
down to little May.
The wedding was a really brilliant affair. The bride and her
attendants were beautifully dressed and, as every one remarked, looked
very charming. At an early hour in the morning carriages were in
waiting to convey the bridal party and the family to the church where
the ceremony was to be performed. When it was over they returned to
the house, where an elegant breakfast was provided for a large number
of guests; after which there was a grand reception for several hours.
Then, when the last guest had departed, Rose retired to her own room,
appearing shortly afterwards at the family dinner-table in her pretty
travelling dress, looking very sweet and engaging, but sober and
thoughtful, as were also her father and brothers; while Mrs. Allison's
eyes were constantly filling with tears at the thought of losing her
daughter.
There was very little eating done, and the conversation flagged
several times in spite of the efforts of the gentlemen to keep it up.
At length all rose from the table, and gathered in the parlor for
a few moments. Then came the parting, and they were gone; and Mrs.
Allison, feeling almost as if she had buried her daughter, tried to
forget her loss by setting herself vigorously to work overseeing the
business of putting her house in order.
Rose's feelings were mingled. She wept for a time, but the soothing
tenderness of her husband's manner, and Elsie's winning caresses, soon
restored her to herself, and smiles chased away the tears.
They had a very pleasant journey, without accident or detention, and
arrived in due time at their own home, where they were welcomed with
every demonstration of delight.
Rose was charmed with the Oaks, thought it even more lovely than
either Roselands or Elingrove, and Mr. Dinsmore and Elsie intensely
enjoyed her pleasure and admiration.
Then came a round of parties, which Elsie thought extremely tiresome,
as she could have no share in them, and was thus deprived of the
company of her papa and mamma almost every evening for several weeks.
But at last that too was over, and they settled down into a quiet,
home life, that suited them all much better, for neither Mr. Dinsmore
nor Rose was very fond of gayety.
And now Elsie resumed her studies regularly, reciting as before to
her father; while Rose undertook to instruct her in the more feminine
branches of housekeeping and needlework, and a master came from the
city several times a week to give her lessons in music and drawing.
She had been so long without regular employment that she found it very
difficult at first to give her mind to her studies, as she had done
in former days; but her father, though kind and considerate, was
very firm with her, and she soon fell into the traces and worked as
diligently as ever.
Elsie did not find that her father's marriage brought any
uncomfortable change to her. There was no lessening of his love or
care; she saw as much of him as before, had full possession of her
seat upon his knee, and was caressed and fondled quite as often and as
tenderly as ever.
And added to all this were Rose's love and sweet companionship, which
were ever grateful to the little girl, whether they were alone or with
her father. Elsie loved her new mamma dearly and was as respectful
and obedient to her as to her father, though Rose never assumed any
authority; which, however, was entirely unnecessary, as a wish or
request from her was sure to be attended to as if it had been a
command.
And Rose was very happy in her new home. Mr. Dinsmore's family were
pleased with the match and treated her most kindly, while he was
always affectionate, thoughtful, and attentive; not less devoted as
a husband than as a father. They were well suited in taste and
disposition; seldom had the slightest disagreement on any subject, and
neither had ever cause to regret the step they had taken, for each day
they lived together seemed but to increase their love for each other,
and for their little daughter, as Mr. Dinsmore delighted to call her,
always giving Rose a share in the ownership.