Left alone upon the veranda, Harold sat scanning the columns of the
morning paper, when a light step drew near, a pleasant voice said,
"Good-morning," and looking up he found Mrs. Calhoun Conly, with a babe
in her arms, close by his side.
"Oh! good-morning to you, Cousin Mary," he returned, hastily rising and
gallantly handing her to a seat. "I am glad to see you and the little
one looking so well."
"Thank you," she returned merrily, "it would be a pity if we failed to
keep well with so many doctors about. Were you waiting to see Arthur? I
believe he is in the house--probably up in his wife's room--though I
have not seen him since breakfast."
"Yes, he is there, sharing with Marian a call from my mother."
"Ah! that is nice for Marian; she has been wanting to see Cousin Elsie
badly. I want a call from her too, and hope she will not forget me when
through with my sister-in-law."
"Hardly, I think; it is not mother's way to forget anyone; especially so
near and dear a relative as yourself, Cousin Mary. But don't set your
heart on a long call this morning, for some other folks want the doctor
if you don't."
"Ah! and your mother has taken up the practice of medicine, has she?"
"Well, I don't say that exactly, but certainly her advice and
suggestions are sometimes more beneficial to the patient than those of
her doctor son; then think of the enviable condition of the patient who
can have both," returned Harold laughingly. "Ah, here comes Cousin Cal!"
as a horseman came galloping up the avenue.
"Good-morning, Harold!" Calhoun said, as he alighted, giving his steed
in charge to a servant, and came up the veranda steps. "I have been out
in the field for some hours, overseeing the work of my men, saw you
passing a few moments since with your mother, and could not resist the
temptation to leave them and come in for a bit of chat with her and
yourself."
"Especially with me, of course," laughed Harold as the two shook hands
and Calhoun, seating himself near his wife, took the babe, which was
stretching out its arms to him with a cooing invitation not to be
resisted by the doting father.
"Mother's particular errand this morning was a call upon Marian; she is
paying it now, and I presume will be down in the course of ten or
fifteen minutes," added Harold.
"You will both stay to dinner, won't you?" queried Calhoun hospitably.
"We'd be delighted to have you do so."
"That we would," added his wife heartily.
"Thank you," returned Harold, "but I have some rather urgent calls to
make and hope to get mother to accompany me. I know of no one else who
can say such comforting things to the sick and depressed."
"Nor do I," responded Mrs. Conly. "If I am in the least depressed, a
call from her, or a chat with her, always raises my spirits; she can
always show you a silver lining to the cloud, however dark it may be."
"Yes," said Harold, "her faith in the goodness and love of God is so
strong and unwavering, and she realizes so perfectly that life in this
world is short and fleeting, that which follows unending and full of
bliss to all who believe in the Lord Jesus, that she is ever content
with whatever Providence sends her. I never knew a happier Christian."
"Nor I," said Mary. "I only wish we were all more like her in that
respect."
"Yes," said Calhoun, "and I believe we are every one of us the happier
and better for knowing her. I have been thinking that it will be hard
for Rosie to leave such a mother."
"That it will," sighed Harold; "and hard for mother, and all of us
indeed, to part with Rosie. But of course the members of so large a
family as ours cannot expect to remain together all through life."
"Yes; weddings are apt to bring both joy and sorrow," remarked Mrs.
Conly reflectively; "the forming of new ties and the breaking of old
ones. One cannot altogether forget the old loves, however sweet the new
may be; but when we get to the better land we may hope to have them
all," she added with an appreciative glance at her husband. "Ah, how
delightful that will be!"
There was a moment's silence; then Harold said, "The wedding day having
not been fixed yet the invitations have not been sent out, but I know
mother is hoping to see your parents here at that time, Cousin Mary."
"That is kind," she returned with a pleased smile; "I supposed they
would be invited, and that so I should have the better prospect of
getting a long promised visit from them myself. But if you invite all
the relatives you will have a great many guests to entertain--that is
should all, or nearly all, accept. However, it is more than likely that
by far the larger number will feel constrained to content themselves
with sending regrets, congratulations, and gifts."
"I hope," said Harold quickly and earnestly, "I am sure we all do--that
no one will feel called upon for that last. I trust that will be fully
understood. The parents of both bride and groom being abundantly able to
provide everything necessary or desirable, why should distant relatives
and friends assist in it, perhaps at the cost of embarrassment or
self-denial?"
"But you should not deny the privilege to those who are abundantly able
and would feel it a pleasure," returned Mary with playful look and tone;
"which I am sure is the case with some of the relatives," she added.
"No," said Harold, "I should not deny it, but would have a distinct
understanding that it was not expected or desired, at the cost of
hardship or self-denial to the giver, or his or her nearer and dearer
ones."
At that moment his mother stepped from the doorway into the veranda.
Very warmly affectionate greetings were exchanged, she was quickly
installed in an easy-chair, and some moments were spent in lively chat.
"Do take off your bonnet, Cousin Elsie, and stay and dine with us,"
urged Calhoun hospitably. "Our young doctor here insists that he cannot;
but let him go on and visit the patients he thinks need his services,
and call here again for you; unless you will allow me the pleasure of
seeing you safely home later in the day."
"Thank you, Cal," she said in reply, "but Rosie will be looking out for
her mother--as I promised her I would not be gone very long--and I want
to see some of my boy's patients myself, and to make a little call at
Beechwood. You know they are all relatives there, and Annis and I very
old and dear friends."
"Yes; and it is growing late," said Harold, consulting his watch; "so,
whenever you are ready, mother, we will start."
"I am that now," she answered, rising with the words. "Good-bye, Cousin
Mary. Come over to Ion whenever you can make it convenient. And when you
write home be as urgent as possible in your entreaties that your parents
will come to the wedding and be prepared to remain in the neighbourhood
for a long visit after it is over."
"You may rest assured that I will do my very best to bring them here and
for as long a stay as possible," was Mary's smiling and earnest reply.
"And never doubt, cousin, that I will do my best to second her efforts,"
said Calhoun, handing her into the carriage as he spoke.
"Will there be time for a call at Beechwood, Harold?" she asked as they
drove down the avenue.
"Oh, yes, mother! I think so," he replied. "I have but two calls to make
on the way, and it is not likely either need be very long."
"I would not have anyone neglected for my convenience," she remarked in
a cheery tone, "but should be glad to spend a half hour with Annis if I
can do so without loss or inconvenience to anyone else."
"Always thoughtful for others, mother dear," Harold said, giving her a
most affectionate look and smile. "I think you may trust me not to
neglect my patients."
"I hope so, indeed," she responded; "and that you will never be less
careful and considerate of the poor than of the rich."
Fortunately they found all doing so well that no lengthened call was
necessary, and they reached Beechwood in season to allow quite a long
chat between the lady cousins before it would be time for Mrs. Travilla
and her son to set out on their return to Ion.
They found Mr. Lilburn and Annis seated upon the front veranda, she
with a bit of needlework in her hands, he reading aloud to her. He
closed his book as the carriage drove up, and laying it aside, hastened
to assist his Cousin Elsie to alight, greeting her with warmth of
affection as he did so. Annis dropped her work and hastened to meet and
embrace her, saying:
"Oh, but I am glad to see you, Elsie! I had letters this morning from
Mildred and Zilla, both bringing a great deal of love to you and a
cordial invitation to you and yours--as well as my husband and
myself--to pay them a visit this summer. They have not yet heard of
Rosie's approaching marriage, I find."
"But must hear of it very soon," Elsie said with a smile. "As soon as
the important day is fixed upon I must send out my invitations; and you
may rest assured that none of our relatives will be forgotten or
neglected; certainly not one of your sisters or brothers."
"No, my dear cousin, it would not be at all like you to neglect any of
them," returned Annis with a smile of loving appreciation. "Ah, Harold!"
turning to him as, having secured his horse, he came up the veranda
steps and joined their little group, "I am glad to see you; especially
as, like a dear, good boy, you have brought your mother along."
"Yes," he said, grasping cordially the hand she held out, "I find I am
sure of a welcome anywhere when I am fortunate enough to induce mother
to accompany me. Sick or well, everybody is glad to see her."
"You also, I presume; especially if they are sick."
"And can't get Cousin Arthur," he added. "A young doctor is better than
none; though an old and tried physician is deemed the best--by sensible
people."
"Ah, ha; ah, ha; um, hm! so it would seem, laddie, yet sometimes the
young fellows hae a new trick the auld hardly ken aboot," remarked
Cousin Ronald with a good-humoured smile. "And for my ain sel' I should
care little--were I ill--whether it were Doctor Arthur or Doctor Harold
that prescribed the remedies to be used."
"Or Doctor Herbert; Herbert might do just as well as either of the two,
I presume," added Annis.
"We have just come from a call at Roselands to see Marian and your
little namesake, Cousin Ronald," said Mrs. Travilla. "He is a dear
little fellow, and I hope will grow up in a way to do honour to the
name."
"I hope he may, and to be a great comfort and blessing to the parents
who have done me the honour to call their firstborn for me," returned
the old gentleman, a gleam of pleasure lighting up his face. "I want to
see the bit bairn myself when the mother is well enough to enjoy a call
from her auld kinsman. And how soon do you think that may be, doctor?"
he asked, turning to Harold.
"In a few days, sir, should she continue to gain strength as she seems
to be doing now. I have no doubt she will be very glad to see both you
and Cousin Annis."
"Yes; I must go along, for I want to see both the boy and his mother.
Marian will make a sweet mother, I think; and Arthur an excellent
father," said Annis.
"I quite agree with you in that idea," Elsie said, "and their joy in the
possession of the little fellow is a pleasant thing to see. By the way,
where are Cousin Ella and her little ones?"
"Hugh has taken them out driving," replied Mr. Lilburn. "There is
nothing the bit bairnies like better than that."
"I am sorry to miss seeing them, but it is time we were on our homeward
route," Elsie said, consulting her watch.
They were kindly urged to remain longer, but declined, bade adieu, and
were presently driving on toward Ion.