CHAPTER VIII.

Leaving St. Augustine the _Dolphin_ pursued her way down the Florida

coast, pausing here and there for a day or two at the most attractive

places, continuing on to the southernmost part of the State, around

it, past Cape Sable and out into the Gulf of Mexico. Then, having

accepted an invitation from Grandma Elsie to visit Viamede, they

sailed on in a westerly direction.

They had pleasant weather during their sojourn in and about Florida,

but as they entered the Gulf a rain storm came up and continued until

they neared the port of New Orleans. That confined the women and

children pretty closely to the cabin and active little Ned grew very

weary of it.

"I wish I could go on deck," he sighed on the afternoon of the second

day. "I'm so tired of staying down here where there's nothing to see."

As he concluded a voice that sounded like that of a boy about his own

age, and seemed to come from the stairway to the deck, said, "I'm

sorry for that little chap. Suppose I come down there and try to get

up a bit of fun for him."

"By all means," replied the captain. "We will be happy to have you do

so."

Ned straightened himself up and looked eagerly in the direction of the

stairway.

"Who is it, papa?" he asked.

"Why, don't you know me?" asked the voice, this time seeming to come

from the door of one of the staterooms.

"No, I don't," returned Ned. "I didn't know there was any boy on

board, except myself."

"Nor did I," said a rough man's voice, "What are you doing here, you

young rascal? came aboard to steal, did you?"

"Nothing but my passage, sir; and I'm not doing a bit of harm,"

replied the boyish voice.

"Oh, I guess I know who you are," laughed Ned. "At least I'm pretty

sure you're either Cousin Ronald or brother Max."

At that a loud guffaw right at his ear made the little boy jump with

an outcry, "Oh, who was that?"

"Why don't you look and see?" laughed Lucilla.

"Why, it doesn't seem to have been anybody," returned Ned, looking

around this way and that. "But I'm not going to be frightened, for I

just know it's one or the other of our ventriloquists. Now, good sirs,

please let's have some more of it, for it's real fun."

"Not much, I should think, after you are in the secret," said Max.

"It's some, though," said Ned, "because it seems so real even when you

do know--or guess--who it is that's doing it."

"Well, now, I'm glad you are so easily pleased and entertained, little

fellow," said the voice from the state-room door. "Perhaps now the

captain will let me pay my fare on the yacht by providing fun for his

little son. That oldest one doesn't seem to need any; he gets enough

talking with the ladies."

"Oh, do you, brother Max?" asked Ned, turning to him.

"Yes," laughed Max; "it's very good fun."

"Hello!" shouted a voice, apparently from the deck, "Mr. Raymond, sir,

better come up here and see that we don't run foul of that big

steamer--or she of us."

The captain started to his feet, but Max laughed, and said in a

mirthful tone, "Never mind, father, it's a false alarm, given for

Ned's amusement."

"Please don't scare anybody else to amuse me, brother Max," said Ned,

with the air of one practising great self-denial.

"I don't think father was really very badly scared," laughed Lucilla;

"and we may feel pretty safe with two good naval officers and a

skilful crew to look out for threatening dangers and help us to avoid

them."

"That's right, miss; no occasion for anxiety or alarm," said the man's

rough voice that had spoken before.

"Thank you; I don't feel a particle of either," laughed Lucilla.

"And I am sure neither you nor any of us should, under the care of two

such excellent and skilful seamen," added Violet in a sprightly tone.

"That's right and I reckon you may feel pretty safe--all o' you," said

the man's voice.

"Of course; who's afraid?" cried the boyish voice, close at Ned's

side. "Some of those old Spaniards were drowned in this gulf, but that

was because they knew nothing about managing a vessel."

"Oh, yes!" exclaimed Ned, "but my father does know how, and so does

brother Max."

"That's a mighty good thing," said the voice, "and we needn't fear

shipwreck, but can just devote ourselves to having a good time."

"So we can," said Ned. "And we do have good times here in the

_Dolphin_. Anybody is pretty sure of good times when papa is at the

head of affairs."

"Quite a complimentary speech from my little son," laughed the

captain.

"And where are you going in this _Dolphin_?" asked the voice.

"To New Orleans, then to Berwick Bay and on through the lakes and

bayous to my grandma's place--Viamede. I've been there before and it's

just beautiful."

"Then I'd like to go too," said the voice. "Won't you take me along?"

"Yes, yes, indeed! whether you are Cousin Ronald or brother Max, I

know grandma will make you welcome."

At that everybody laughed and his grandma said:

"Yes, indeed, they are both heartily welcome."

"And whichever you are I'm obliged to you for making this fun for me,"

continued Ned. "Oh, what was that!" as a loud whistle was heard

seemingly close in his rear. He turned hastily about, then laughed as

he perceived that there was no one there. "Was it you did that,

brother Max?" he asked.

"Did it sound like my voice?" asked Max.

"As much as like any other. But oh, there's the call to supper and I

suppose the fun will have to stop for this time."

"Yes, you can have the fun of eating instead," said his father,

leading the way to the table.

In due time the next day they reached New Orleans, where they paused

for a few days of rest and sight-seeing, then returning to their

yacht, they passed out into the Gulf, up the bay into Teche Bayou and

beyond, through lake and lakelet, past plain and forest, plantation

and swamp. The scenery was beautiful; there were miles of smoothly

shaven and velvety green lawns, shaded by magnificent oaks and

magnolias; there were cool, shady dells carpeted with a rich growth of

flowers; lordly villas peering through groves of orange trees, tall

white sugar-houses, and long rows of cabins for the laborers. The

scenes were not entirely new to anyone on the boat, but were scarcely

the less enjoyable for that--so great was their beauty.

When they reached their destination and the boat rounded to at the

wharf, they perceived a welcoming group awaiting their landing--all

the relatives from Magnolia, the Parsonage, and Torriswood. There was

a joyful exchange of greetings with them and then with the group of

servants standing a little in the rear.

In accordance with written directions sent by Grandma Elsie some days

in advance of her arrival, a feast had been prepared and the whole

connection in that neighborhood invited to partake of it. And not one

older or younger had failed to come, for she was too dearly loved for

an invitation from her to be neglected unless the hinderance were such

as could not be ignored or set aside. Dr. Dick Percival and his Maud

were there among the rest; Dick's half brother Dr. Robert Johnson, and

Maud's sister Sidney also. They gave a very joyful and affectionate

greeting to their brother Chester and to Lucilla Raymond, then

attached themselves to her for the short walk from the wharf up to the

house.

"Oh, Lu," said Maud, "we are so glad that we are to have you for our

sister. I don't know any other girl I should be so pleased to have

come into the family. And Ches will make a good kind husband, I am

sure, for he has always been a dear good brother."

"Indeed he has," said Sidney. "And we are hoping that he and Frank

will come and settle down here near us."

"Oh, no, indeed!" exclaimed Lulu. "I should like to live near you two,

but nothing would induce me to make my home so far away from my

father. And Chester has promised never to take me away from him."

"Oh, I was hoping you would want to come," said Maud. "But Ches is one

to keep his word; so that settles it."

But they had reached the house and here the talk ended for the time.

The new arrivals retired to their rooms for a little attention to the

duties of the toilet, then all gathered about the well-spread board

and made a hearty meal, enlivened by cheerful chat mingled with many

an innocent jest and not a little mirthful laughter. It was still

early when the meal was concluded, and the next hour or two were spent

in pleasant, familiar intercourse upon the verandas or in the

beautiful grounds. Then the guests began to return to their homes,

those with young children leaving first. The Torriswood family stayed

a little longer, and at their urgent request Chester consented to

become their guest for the first few days, if no longer.

"There are two good reasons why you should do so," said Dick in a

half-jesting tone: "firstly, I having married your sister, by that we

are the most nearly related; and secondly, as Bob and I are both

physicians, we may be better able to take proper care of you than

these good and kind relatives."

"Dick, Dick," remonstrated Violet, "how you forget! or is it

professional jealousy? Have we not been careful to bring along with us

one of the very physicians who have had charge of Chester's case?"

"Why, sure enough!" exclaimed Dick. "Harold, old fellow, I beg your

pardon! and to make amends, should I get sick I shall certainly have

you called in at once."

"Which will quite make amends," returned Harold, laughing; "as it will

give me a good opportunity to punish your impertinence in ignoring my

claims as one of the family physicians."

"Ah!" returned Dick, "I perceive that my wiser plan will be to keep

well."

There was a general laugh, a moment's pause, then Robert, sending a

smiling glance in Sidney's direction, said, "Now, dear friends and

relatives, Sid and I have a communication to make. We have decided to

follow the good example set us by our brother and sister--Maud and

Dick--and so we expect in two or three weeks to take each other for

better or for worse."

The announcement caused a little surprise to most of those present,

but everyone seemed pleased; thinking it a suitable match in every

way.

"I think you have chosen wisely--both of you," said Grandma Elsie,

"and I hope there are many years of happiness in store for you;

happiness and usefulness. And, Chester," turning to him, "remember

that these doors are wide open to you at all times. Come back when you

will and stay as long as you will."

"Thank you, cousin; you are most kindly hospitable," Chester said with

a gratified look and smile. "The two places are so near together that

I can readily divide my time between them; which--both being so

attractive--is certainly very fortunate for me."

"And for all of us," said Violet; "as we shall be able to see more of

each other than we could if farther apart."

"Yes; I shall hope and expect to see you all coming in every day,"

added her mother with hospitable cordiality.

"Thank you, Cousin Elsie," said Maud, "but, though it is delightful to

come here, we must not let it be altogether a one-sided affair. Please

remember to return our visits whenever you find it convenient and

pleasant to do so."

With that they took leave and departed, and a little later those

constituting the family for the time bade each other good-night, and

most of them retired to their sleeping apartments.

Not quite all of them, however. Max, Evelyn, and Lucilla stepped out

upon the veranda again, Max remarking, "The grounds are looking

bewitchingly beautiful in the moonlight; suppose we take a little

stroll down to the bayou."

"You two go if you like, but I want to have a word or two with papa,"

said Lucilla, glancing toward her father, who was standing quietly and

alone at some little distance, seemingly absorbed in gazing upon the

beauties of the landscape.

"Well, we will not be gone long," said Evelyn, as she and Max

descended the steps while Lucilla glided softly in her father's

direction.

He did not seem aware of her approach until she was close at his side,

and laying a hand on his arm, said in her low, sweet tones:

"I have come for my dear father's good-night caresses, and to hear

anything he may have to say to his eldest daughter."

"Ah, that is right," he said, turning and putting an arm about her and

drawing her into a close embrace. "I hope all goes well with you, dear

child. If not, your father is the very one to bring your troubles to."

"Thank you, dear papa," she said; "if I had any troubles I should

certainly bring them to you; but I have not. Oh, I do think I am the

happiest girl in the land! with your dear love and Chester's too. And

Max with us again; and all of us well and in this lovely, lovely

place!"

"Yes, we have a great deal to be thankful for," he returned. "But you

will miss Chester, now that he has left here for Torriswood."

"Oh, not very much," she said with a happy little laugh; "for he has

assured me that he will be here at least a part of every day; the ride

or walk from Torriswood being not too long to be taken with pleasure

and profit."

"And doubtless some of the time you will be there. By the way, you

should give Sidney something handsome as a wedding present. You may

consider what would be suitable and likely to please, consult with the

other ladies, and let your father know what the decision is--that he

may get the article, or supply the means."

"Thank you ever so much, father dear," she replied in grateful tones,

"but you have given me such a generous supply of pocket money that I

don't think I shall need to call upon you for help about this. But I

shall ask your advice about what the gift shall be and be sure not to

buy anything of which you do not approve."

"Spoken like my own dear, loving daughter," he said approvingly, and

with a slight caress. "By the way, did Robert Johnson's bit of news

make my daughter and her lover a trifle jealous that their engagement

must be so long a one?"

"Not me, papa; I am entirely willing--yes, very glad--to be subject to

your orders; very loath to leave the dear home with you and pass from

under your care and protection. Oh, I sometimes feel as if I could

never do it. But then I say to myself, 'But I shall always be my dear

father's child and we need not--we will not love each other the less

because another claims a share of my affection.' Is that not so,

papa?"

"Yes, daughter; and I do not believe anything can ever make either one

of us love the other less. But it is growing late and about time for

my eldest daughter to be seeking her nest, if she wants to be up with

the birds in the morning and ready to share a stroll with her father

through these beautiful grounds before breakfast."

"Yes, sir; but, if you are willing, I should like to wait for Evelyn.

She and Max will be in presently, I think. Papa, I do think they have

begun to be lovers, and I am glad; for I should dearly love to have

Eva for a sister."

"And I should not object to having her for a daughter," returned the

captain, with a pleased little laugh. "And you are not mistaken, so

far as Max is concerned. He asked me to-day if I were willing that he

should try to win the dear girl, and I told him most decidedly so;

that I heartily wished him success in his wooing. Though, as in your

case, I think marriage would better be deferred for a year or two."

"Yes, Max would be quite as much too young for a bridegroom as I for a

bride," she said with a slight and amused laugh; "and I don't believe

he would disregard his father's advice. All your children love you

dearly and have great confidence in your opinion on every subject,

father dear."

"As I have in their love and willingness to be guided by me," the

captain responded in a tone of gratification. "You may wait for

Evelyn. I think she and Max will be in presently. Ah, yes; see they

are turning this way now."

Max had given his arm to Evelyn as they left the house, and crossing

the lawn together they strolled slowly along the bank of the bayou.

"Oh, such a beautiful night as it is!" exclaimed Evelyn, "and the air

is so soft and balmy one can hardly realize that in our more northern

homes cold February reigns."

"No," said Max, "and I am glad we are escaping the blustering March

winds that will soon be visiting that section. Still, for the year

round I prefer that climate to this."

"Yes; but it is very pleasant to be able to go from one section to

another as the seasons change," said Eva. "I think we are very

fortunate people in being able to do it."

"Yes," returned Max, "but after all one's happiness depends far more

upon being in congenial society and with loved ones than upon climate,

scenery--or anything else. Eva," and he turned to her as with sudden

determination, "I--I think I can never again be happy away from you. I

love you and want you for my own. You have said you would like to be

my father's daughter, and I can make you that if you will only let me.

Say, dearest, oh, say that you will let me--that you will be mine--my

own dear little wife."

"Max, oh, Max," she answered in low, trembling tones, "I--I am afraid

you don't know me quite as I am--that you would be disappointed--would

repent of having said what you have."

"Never, never! if you will only say yes; if you will only promise to

be mine--my own love, my own dear little wife." And putting an arm

about her he drew her close, pressing an ardent kiss upon her lips.

She did not repulse him, and continuing his endearments and entreaties

he at length drew from her an acknowledgment that she returned his

love.

Then presently they turned their steps toward the mansion, as happy a

pair as could be found in the whole length and breadth of the land.

Captain Raymond and Lucilla were waiting for them, and Max, leading

Evelyn to his father, said in joyous tones, "I have won a new daughter

for you, father, and a dear sweet wife for myself. At least she has

promised to be both to us one of these days."

"Ah, I am well pleased," the captain said, taking Eva's hand in his,

and bending down to give her a fatherly caress. "I have always felt

that I should like to take her into my family and do a father's part

by her."

"Oh, captain, you are very, very kind," returned Eva, low and

feelingly; "there is nobody in the wide world whose daughter I should

prefer to be."

"And oh, Eva, I shall be so glad to have you really my sister!"

exclaimed Lucilla, giving her friend a warm embrace. "Max, you dear

fellow, I'm ever so glad and so much obliged to you."

"You needn't to be, sis. Eva is the one deserving of thanks for

accepting one so little worthy of her as this sailor brother of

yours," returned Max, with a happy laugh.

"Yes, we will give her all the credit," said the captain; "and hope

that you, my son, will do your best to prove yourself worthy of the

prize you have won. And now, my dears, it is high time we were all

retiring to rest; in order that we may have strength and spirits for

the duties and pleasures of to-morrow."

Evelyn and Lucilla were sharing a room communicating directly with the

one occupied by Grace and little Elsie, and that opened into the one

where the captain and Violet slept.

In compliance with the captain's advice the young girls at once

retired to their room to seek their couches for the night; but first

they indulged in a bit of loving chat.

"Oh, Eva," Lucilla exclaimed, holding her friend in a loving embrace,

"I am so glad, so very, very glad that we are to be sisters. And Max I

am sure will make you a good, kind husband. He has always been the

best and dearest of brothers to me--as well as to Grace and the little

ones."

"Yes, I know it," said Evelyn softly. "I know too that your father has

always been the best and kindest of husbands and that Max is very much

like him."

"And you love Max?"

"How could I help it?" asked Evelyn, blushing as she spoke. "I thought

it was as a dear brother I cared for him, till--till he asked me

to--to be his wife; but then I knew better. Oh, it was so sweet to

learn that he loved me so! and I am so happy! I am not the lonely girl

I was this morning--fatherless and motherless and without brother or

sister. Oh, I have them all now--except the mother," she added with a

slight laugh--"for of course your Mamma Vi is much too young to be

that to me."

"Yes; as she is to be a mother to Max, Gracie, and me. But with such a

father as ours one could do pretty well without a mother. Don't you

think so?"

"Yes; he seems to be father and mother both to those of his children

who have lost their mother."

"He is indeed. But now I must obey his last order by getting to bed as

quickly as I can."

"I, too," laughed Evelyn; "it seems really delightful to have a father

to obey." She ended with a slight sigh, thinking of the dear father

who had been so long in the better land.

Elsie in the South · 第 8 / 17 章