"Now, my daughters, Lucilla and Grace, if you have any preparations to
make for your trip to New Orleans, my advice is that you attend to
them at once," Captain Raymond said when their callers had gone.
"Yes, sir," they both returned, making prompt movement to obey;
Lucilla adding, "though I am sure we have but little to do."
"And what are your directions to me, Captain Raymond? or am I to be
left entirely to my own devices?" laughed Violet.
"I think my wife is wise enough to be safely so left," he replied in
his usual pleasant tones, and with a look of fond appreciation; "and
perhaps might give some advice to my daughters," he added.
"And now I think of it, perhaps it might be well to consult with them
in regard to some matters," said Violet, and hurried away after the
girls, who had gone up to their sleeping apartments.
"Have not you some preparations to make also, Elsie?" asked Mr.
Dinsmore of his daughter.
"Very little," she answered with a smile; "only some packing that my
maid can do in a few minutes. Ah, there is someone wanting to speak to
me, I think," as an elderly negro came out upon the veranda, bowed to
the company in general, then looked toward her with a sort of pleading
expression, as if he had a petition to offer.
She rose and went to him, asking in kindly inquiring tone, "What is
it, Uncle Joe?"
"Ise come to ax a favor, mistiss," he replied, bowing low. "Ole Aunt
Silvy she mighty porely--mos' likely gwine die befo' many days--an'
she doan pear to feel pow'ful sure ob de road for to git to de bes'
place on de furder side ob de river. She says Miss Elsie knows da way
and maybe she come and 'struct her how to find it."
"Indeed I shall be very glad if I can help her to find it," Elsie
answered with emotion. "I will go with you at once." Then turning to
her son, "Harold," she said, "Uncle Joe reports a woman at the quarter
as very ill; will you go down there with me and see if your medical
skill can give her any relief?"
"Certainly, mother dear;" replied Harold, hastening to her side; and
excusing herself to her guests and taking her son's arm, Mrs. Travilla
at once set off for the quarter, Uncle Joe following respectfully at a
little distance, ready to point out the cabin where the ailing negress
lay.
They found her tossing about on her bed, moaning and groaning. "Oh,
mistiss," she cried as they entered, "you's berry good comin' fo' to
see dis po' ole darky. I'se pow'ful glad for to see you, mistiss, an'
de young massa too. Uncle Joe, set out dat cheer fo' de mistiss and
dat oder one for de young massa."
Uncle Joe hastened to do her bidding, while Harold felt her pulse and
questioned her in regard to her illness.
She complained of misery in her head, misery in her back, and being
"pow'ful weak," finishing up with the query, "Is I gwine die dis day,
suh?"
"I think not," he replied, "you may live for weeks or months. But life
is very uncertain with us all, and I advise you to promptly make every
preparation for death and eternity."
"Dat's what I gwine do when mistiss tell me how," she groaned, with a
look of keen distress directed toward Mrs. Travilla.
"I will try to make the way plain to you," that lady returned in
compassionate tones. "It is just to come to the Lord Jesus confessing
that you are a helpless, undone sinner and asking him to help you--to
take away the love of sinning and wash you in his own precious blood.
The Bible tells us 'He is able also to save them to the uttermost that
come unto God by him.' And he says, 'Him that cometh to me I will in
no wise cast out.' So that if you come, truly seeking him with all
your heart--desiring to be saved, not only from eternal death but from
sin and the love of it--he will hear and save you."
"Won' you pray de good Lawd for dis ole darky, mistiss?" pleaded the
woman. "You knows bes' how to say de words, an' dis chile foller you
in her heart."
At that Mrs. Travilla knelt beside the bed and offered up an earnest
prayer couched in the simplest words, so that the poor ignorant
creature on the bed could readily understand and feel it all.
"Dis chile am berry much 'bliged, mistiss," she said, when Mrs.
Travilla had resumed her seat by the bedside. "I t'ink de good Lawd
hear dat prayer an open de gate ob heaben to ole Silvy when she git
dar."
"I hope so indeed," Mrs. Travilla replied. "Put all your trust in
Jesus and you will be safe; for he died to save sinners such as you
and I. We cannot do anything to save ourselves, but to all who come to
him he gives salvation without money and without price. Don't think
you can do anything to earn it; it is his free gift."
"But de Lawd's chillens got to be good, mistiss, aint dey?"
"Yes; they are not his children if they do not try to know and do all
his holy will. Jesus said, 'If ye love me, keep my commandments.' 'Ye
are my friends, if ye do whatsoever I command you.' We have no right
to consider ourselves Christians if we do not try earnestly to keep
all his commands, and do all his holy will."
Harold had sat there listening quietly to all his mother said and had
knelt with her when she prayed. Now, when she paused for a little, he
questioned Aunt Silvy about her ailments, gave her directions for
taking some medicine, and said he would send it presently from the
house. Mrs. Travilla added that she would send some delicacies to
tempt the sickly appetite; then with a few more kindly words they left
the cabin, bidding Uncle Joe a kindly good-by as they went.
"You do not think Aunt Silvy really a dying woman, Harold?" his mother
said in a tone of inquiry, as they walked on together.
"No, mamma; I shall not be surprised if she lives for years yet,"
Harold answered cheerily. "No doubt she is suffering, but I think
medicine, rest, and suitable food will relieve her and she will
probably be about again in a week or two. But preparation for death
and eternity can do her no harm."
"No, certainly; to become truly a Christian must add to the
happiness--as well as safety--of anyone."
"And you have brought that happiness to many a one, my dear mother,"
Harold said, giving her a tenderly affectionate look. "How often in
thinking of you I recall those words of the prophet Daniel, 'And they
that be wise shall shine as the brightness of the firmament; and they
that turn many to righteousness, as the stars for ever and ever.'"
"'Tis a precious promise," she said with emotion. "Oh, my son, make it
the business of your life to do that; to help to the healing of
souls--the immortal part--even more than that of the frail bodies
which must soon die."
"Yes, mother," he said with emotion, "I do try constantly to do that;
and it is a great comfort and help to me to know that my dear mother
is often asking for me help from on high."
"Yes," she said; "without that none of us could accomplish anything in
the way of winning souls for Christ; and every Christian should feel
that that is his principal work. This life is so short and the
never-ending ages of eternity are so long. 'Whatsoever thy hand
findeth to do, do it with thy might; for there is no work nor device,
nor knowledge, nor wisdom in the grave whither thou goest.'"
They walked on in silence for a little, then Harold remarked that the
air was delightful and a little more extended walk might prove
beneficial to them both.
"Yes," replied his mother, "let us take a stroll through the orange
orchard; the sight and perfume of the fruit and blossoms are
delightful."
"Yes, indeed!" he said, "and you can see, mother, whether everything
is properly cared for."
"I expect to find it so," she returned, "as I have every reason to
believe my overseer both faithful and competent."
They enjoyed their stroll greatly and she found no reason to change
her estimate of the overseer.
It was lunch time when they returned to the house, and on leaving the
table some of their party went for a row on the bayou while the rest
chose riding or driving through the beautiful woods. Evelyn and Max,
Lucilla and Chester formed the riding party and greatly enjoyed their
little excursion. The courting of the two young couples was carried on
in a very quiet way, but was none the less satisfactory and enjoyable
for that. But all four of them felt a great interest in the
approaching wedding and much of their talk as they rode was of it, and
what gifts to the bride would be the most appropriate and acceptable.
"Chester, you know you have promised to advise me what to give to
Sidney," Lucilla said, with a smile into his eyes.
"You dear girl! so I will and I make that same request of you, for I
am sure you know far more about such matters than I do," he returned
with a very loverlike look.
"Quite a mistake, Mr. Dinsmore," she laughed. "But I understood you
intended to give some part of the trousseau--perhaps the wedding
dress."
"Yes; that and pretty much all the rest of it. And I am sure your help
will be invaluable in the choice of the various articles."
"Thank you," she said, with a pleased laugh. "It is very nice to have
you think so highly of my judgment and taste; but I hope you will let
Grandma Elsie and Mamma Vi and Eva assist in the selection."
"Certainly, if you wish it, but I do not promise to let their opinions
have as much weight with me as yours."
"No, you needn't," she returned merrily; "it is by no means
disagreeable to have you consider mine the most valuable, even though
it be really worthless in other people's esteem. It is very possible
Sidney might prefer their choice to mine."
"Ah! but she won't have the chance. By the way, your father has a good
deal of taste in the line of ladies' dress, has he not?"
"I think so," she returned with a pleased smile; "he has selected many
an article of dress for me, and always suited my taste as well as if I
had been permitted to choose for myself. What he buys is sure to be of
excellent quality and suited to the intended wearer's age, complexion,
and needs."
"You are very fond of your father," Chester said with a smile.
"Indeed I am," she returned in an earnest tone. "I believe I give him
all the love that should have been divided between him and my mother,
had she lived. Mamma Vi calls him my idol; but I don't think I make
him quite that. He has at least one rival in my affection," she added
with a blush, and in a tone so low that he barely caught the words.
"And I may guess who that is, may I, dearest?" he returned in the same
low key and with a look that spoke volumes of love, and joy in the
certainty of her affection.
Max and Eva, riding on a trifle faster, were just far enough ahead and
sufficiently absorbed in their own private chat to miss this little
colloquy. There were some love passages between them also; some talk
of what they hoped the future held in store for them when they should
be old enough for the dear, honored father to give his consent to
their immediate marriage. Neither of them seemed to have a thought of
going contrary to his wishes; so strong was their affection for him
and their faith in his wisdom and his love for them.
All four greatly enjoyed their ride and returned to their temporary
home in fine health and spirits.
Chester had gotten rid of his troublesome cough before landing in
Louisiana and was now looking younger and handsomer than he had before
that almost fatal wound--a fact which greatly rejoiced the hearts of
his numerous relatives and friends. None more so than that of his
betrothed, for whose defence he had risked his life.
By the time the Viamede dinner hour had arrived all the pleasure
parties had returned and were ready to do justice to the good cheer
provided in abundance. And the meal was enlivened by cheerful chat.
The evening was spent much as the previous one had been and all
retired early, that Sabbath morning might find them rested, refreshed,
and ready for the duties and enjoyments of the sacred day.