Lucilla was in bed but not asleep. She had retired to her room when the
guests went to theirs, and without a formal good-night to her father,
trusting to his coming to her there for a few moment's chat, as he
almost always did. But he had not come, and she felt sorely
disappointed. It was a beautiful, luxuriously furnished room, this bed
chamber of hers--the view from its windows, a lovely one of carefully
kept grounds, cultivated fields, woods, and streams; all looking their
loveliest just now as seen by the silver light of the moon, which shone
in upon her through rich lace curtains, gently wafted to and fro by the
summer breeze as it came in laden with the sweet scent of flowers from
the garden below.
"What a sweet, lovely home I have! Oh, how much to be thankful for! good
health, kind friends, and such a dear father!" she said half aloud; "but
I want a good-night kiss and a word or two of fatherly affection, and
it does seem as if I can't go to sleep without it. Oh, dear! can it be
that he is displeased with me about anything? I am not conscious of
having done anything he would disapprove."
"Nor have you, so far as I know, daughter mine," said a pleasant voice
close at her side, while a hand was laid tenderly on her head.
"Oh, papa!" she cried joyously, starting up to a sitting posture as she
spoke. "I did not know you were there--did not hear you come in; but I
am so glad you have come!"
"Are you?" he asked, seating himself on the side of the bed and drawing
her into his arms. "Well, daughter, it is only for a moment, to bid you
good-night, as usual, and see that you are in need of nothing. Tell me,
are all your wants supplied?"
"Yes, sir; now that I have my father here to give me his good-night kiss
and blessing. Ah! papa dear, I do not know how I could ever live away
from you again. I am so glad you no longer have to go sailing away over
the ocean, leaving your children behind."
"I am glad of it, too," he returned, "but I sometimes fear that the day
may come when my dear eldest daughter will want to leave me for a home
with someone else."
"Indeed, father dear, you need not have the slightest fear of that," she
said, laying her head against his breast with a low, happy laugh. "I am
sure there isn't in the wide world any other man whom I could love half
so well as I do you. I am just as glad to belong to you now as ever I
was."
"And don't want me to give you away?"
"No, no, indeed!" she cried with energy. "Oh, papa! you surely are not
thinking of such a thing? You have said, over and over again, that you
would not,--at least not for years yet,--even if I wanted you to."
"And I say the same now; so don't be wanting me to," he returned in
jesting tone, and laying her down upon her pillow as he spoke. "Now go
to sleep at once, that you may be ready to rise at your usual early hour
and join your father in the morning stroll about the grounds. 'The Lord
bless thee and keep thee; the Lord make his face shine upon thee, and be
gracious unto thee; the Lord lift up his countenance upon thee, and
give thee peace,'" he added in tender, solemn tones, his hand resting
upon her head as he spoke.
Then, with a good-night kiss upon her lips, he left her, and contented
and happy she speedily passed into the land of dreams.
The captain, passing through Grace's room to his own, paused for a
moment at her bedside, bent over her, and kissed the sweet lips; but she
slept on, unconscious of the caress.
He found Violet still awake, repeated to her his little talk with
Lucilla, and added, with evident satisfaction, "I feel convinced that,
as yet, no one has made any impression upon her heart, that I, her
father, still hold the fort there."
"Yes; I have hardly a doubt of it," returned Violet; "and it may be many
a long day before she is deluded into thinking there is any other man
who begins to compare to him; something that I have known for years was
not the case," she concluded with a happy laugh.
The sun was hardly above the horizon when Lucilla awoke; but she sprang
up hastily, with the thought that her father would soon be out in the
grounds, and she wanted to be with him. There would be a great deal to
attend to in preparation for their expected guests, and perhaps she
could be of some assistance; at all events she would like to see all
that was going on, and give her opinion on any doubtful subject.
So she lost no time about attending to the duties of the hour and place,
spending a little time upon her knees, asking for the watchful care of
her Heavenly Father through all the day, that she might be kept from
folly and sin, and have strength and wisdom to do every duty and meet
every trial, and beseeching his blessing upon all her dear ones, not
forgetting the dear brother so far away from home and kindred. Then she
made a rapid but careful toilet, and hastened, with light, swift
footsteps, down the broad stairway and out upon the veranda, where she
found her father in consultation with Christine, the housekeeper.
Blithe good-mornings were exchanged, Christine went back into the house,
and father and daughter walked out together into the grounds.
Preparations were going on for the entertainment of the expected guests,
old and young, and Lucilla was not only permitted, but invited to give
her opinion in regard to them all, and any suggestions that might occur
to her; which she did frankly and fully, and with the result that more
than one of them was adopted; for her father wished to please her and
had great confidence in her opinion of such matters. There were croquet
and tennis grounds, swings in the shade of the trees in the grove;
inviting-looking seats there, and in other suitable places; there were
shaded walks and winding paths through the woods; indeed, every sort of
arrangement for recreation and pleasure that could be thought of and
prepared for in the allotted space.
Captain Raymond and his daughter walked about inspecting everything,
until they had gone over the whole place, giving all needed directions
to the workmen who were busied here and there with some alterations the
captain had decided upon the previous day, then returned to the house,
for it was nearing breakfast time.
They found Violet, Grace, and the two younger children on the veranda.
Morning greetings were exchanged, then Lucilla hurried to her rooms to
make some changes in her dress and was coming down again when the
breakfast bell rang.
It was a cheerful, even merry, party that gathered about the table to
partake of the meal, an excellent one; for the captain and Violet were
most hospitable entertainers.
The talk ran principally upon the sports that would enliven and
entertain the company during the day; suggestions from any and every one
being in order; and, by the time the meal was concluded, all felt that
they had every prospect of a most enjoyable holiday.
"The weather could not be more propitious than it is," remarked Captain
Keith. "You began your enjoyment of it early, Miss Lu," turning to
Lucilla. "I happened to be at my window and saw you and your father out
in the grounds."
"Yes," she said, "papa and I usually do take a stroll about them before
breakfast. He is always an early riser. I inherit the taste for it from
him and, being in excellent health, can indulge it without injury."
"Which is something to be thankful for," he said with a smile.
"Yes, indeed!" she returned heartily. "Health and strength are the
greatest of earthly blessings. I would not part with them for any amount
of money."
"No; money cannot buy health and strength, though they may give one the
ability to earn money. You, however, have a father able and willing to
furnish all you may need of it."
"Yes," said the captain in his pleasant way, "but that daughter of mine
likes to make herself useful to me, and does so to such an extent that I
really think she earns all she gets."
"Oh, no, papa, not half!" exclaimed Lucilla, blushing with pleasure
nevertheless. "And that reminds me that I have not asked about your mail
this morning. Are there some letters to be answered on the typewriter?"
"I have been as forgetful as yourself, daughter," her father answered
with a slight laugh. "Scip" (to a servant in waiting), "is the mail bag
on the library table?"
"I think so, sah. Shall I fotch it hyar?"
"Yes; bring it here to me."
It was brought, opened, and found to contain letters for family and
guests, besides newspapers and magazines.
They were speedily distributed to the owners, read,--some of them
aloud,--and their contents talked over.
Then all adjourned to the library for the morning service of prayer,
praise, and reading of the Scriptures, after which they scattered about
the house and grounds.
Captain Raymond's share of the mail had included some business letters,
and he called upon Lucilla to use her typewriter in preparing his
replies, which she did promptly and cheerfully.
"Thank you, daughter," he said when they had finished, "you and your
typewriter make my correspondence far less burdensome than it would be
otherwise."
"I am so glad, papa! so glad that I can be of at least a little help to
you," she said joyously. "It is such a privilege, and such a pleasure!"
"Dear child!" he said in response. Then, as the sound of wheels on the
drive without came to their ears, "Ah! our guests are beginning to
arrive, and we must go out and bid them welcome."
Several carriage loads were already there, and others quickly followed
till, in a very short time, all the expected relatives were present.
Then mirth and jollity ruled the hour, all--old and young--seeming in
gayest spirits and ready to join in any amusement that might be
proposed. Mr. and Mrs. Croly were among the guests. She had gained so
materially in health and strength that she was able--resting in an
easy-chair upon the veranda--to watch the sports of the younger and
healthier ones with interest and enjoyment; and to converse with one and
another as they came in turn to chat with her for a time. At length,
finding herself alone with Grandma Elsie for a while, she turned to her,
saying in a sprightly way:
"I am getting so much better under the skilful treatment of Dr. Conly
that I ventured on quite a drive this morning, and we went to look at a
little place, some ten or more acres in extent, about which your son
Doctor Harold was telling us yesterday. It is on the river bank, the
lawn sloping down to the water, and it is hardly farther from Ion than
this place. It is for sale. The house is small, but pretty, and could
easily be added to, and so made as large as one might wish."
"Riverside is the name of the estate?" Mrs. Travilla said inquiringly.
"Yes; a pretty one we both--Mr. Croly and I--think, and we have about
decided to buy it and enlarge and beautify the dwelling for our
children,--our son and your daughter,--if you think that would please
dear Rosie."
"I think it could not fail to do so," Mrs. Travilla replied, her eyes
sparkling with pleasure. "It will be a great pleasure to me to have our
children so near, and I was thinking of making the purchase for them
myself. It was only this morning I learned that the place was for sale."
"Ah!" laughed Mrs. Croly, "don't try to get ahead of us. We want the
place ourselves, and it won't hurt the young folks to wait for it till
we are gone; especially as we intend it to be as much a home for them
immediately as if they were sole proprietors."
"And they will enjoy it all the more for having their kind parents with
them," was Mrs. Travilla's pleased response.
Then they fell to talking of alterations and additions to the dwelling,
and plans for furnishing and decorating it and the grounds.
"I am very glad indeed that you and your husband have decided to settle
in this neighbourhood," said Mrs. Travilla; "glad that we are to have
the pleasure of your society, and that Rosie's married home will not be
at a distance from that of her childhood. I have been very fortunate in
being able thus far to keep all my children near me."
"Yes, I think so; and I do not wonder that they and you wish to keep
together. I feel just so in regard to my one. Ah! who are those two
ladies approaching on the driveway?"
"One I call mamma," Mrs. Travilla said with a smile; "she is my father's
second wife, and has been my dear mother since I was a little girl of
ten. The other is Aunt Adelaide, a half sister of my father, who
married a brother of Mamma Rose--Mr. Edward Allison of Philadelphia."
"Ah, yes! I recognize Mrs. Dinsmore, now that they have drawn nearer,
and Mrs. Allison as someone to whom I have been introduced; but I have
met so many strangers in the last few days that I suppose I may be
excused for not remembering her name and connection with you and our
Rosie," she concluded with a smile, adding, "You will excuse me, I know,
for claiming Rosie as mine as well as yours, because it is so sweet to
me to have a daughter at long last."
"I am very glad you feel it so," Mrs. Travilla returned with a sweet,
sympathising look and smile, "and I hope my Rosie will prove to you the
sweet and lovable daughter that she has always been to me."
Just at that moment the other ladies joined them, and the four entered
into a lively conversation, talking of Riverside and the improvements
needed there, what a lovely home it would make for the Crolys, how
pleasant it would be to have them so near, and how delightful for Rosie
that thus she would escape the dreaded separation from her mother.
"Yes," said Mrs. Croly, "I cannot tell you how glad I was to learn of
this beautiful place, so near to Ion, for sale; for I felt badly over
the thought that we were robbing Mrs. Travilla of the companionship of
so sweet a daughter. Besides I am anxious to remain in this
neighbourhood, that I may continue under the care of Dr. Conly; for he
has helped me more than any other physician I ever tried."
That remark seemed gratifying to all three of her listeners, and Mrs.
Dinsmore said: "We are glad to hear it; for Dr. Conly is dear to us all,
as relative, friend, and physician."
"He has a lovely young wife," was Mrs. Croly's next remark; "and a
darling baby boy of whom they are both very proud and fond."
"Yes," said Mrs. Travilla, "it does one good to see how happy they are
in the possession of it and of each other. Arthur remained single for
years; I think to provide, or assist in providing, for his mother,
sisters, and younger brothers, but he seems to be reaping his reward
now in having a wife who is a great comfort and blessing to him."
"She is that, indeed!" said Mrs. Allison emphatically. "Ah! speak of
angels--here they come!" as Dr. Conly and his young wife were seen
approaching, followed by a nurse carrying the infant.
In another minute they had joined the group on the veranda, where the
doctor speedily ensconced his wife in an easy-chair, placed himself in
another by her side, and taking the baby from the nurse, held it up with
a look of fatherly pride, asking the older ladies, "Isn't this a pretty
fine specimen of babyhood, considering that he is my son?"
"Yes, indeed!" laughed Mrs. Allison, "it is singular that so poor a
specimen of manhood as my nephew, Arthur Conly, should have so fine a
son. But he may have got his good looks from his mother; though I do not
perceive that she has lost any."
"Now, Aunt Adelaide, after that you will do well to take care not to
fall ill and get into the doctor's hands," laughed Marian.
"My dear," said the doctor, "can you suppose I object to having my wife
praised? or my son, even at his father's expense?"
"No, I know you do not," she returned. "I verily believe you would
sacrifice everything for him except his mother."
"Did he let you take part in any of the games?" asked Adelaide.
"Oh, I didn't ask to!" said Marian. "I have grown so lazy that I thought
it more fun to watch the others."
"Captain Raymond and Violet seem to be enjoying tennis as much as any of
the rest," remarked Mrs. Dinsmore, who was watching the game with keen
interest.
"Yes," said Dr. Conly, "all--old and young--seem very happy and
interested in their various sports; and I think are gaining health and
strength from the vigorous exercise in this pure air."
Most of the company were engaged in games of one kind or another, but
some few were wandering about in the alleys of the garden or wood, or
sitting on the grass or some rustic bench, chatting sociably, as cousins
and connections might be expected to do. Dr. Dick Percival and Maud
Dinsmore were among the latter. They had had a game of tennis and were
now refreshing themselves with a saunter through the wood.
"I admire this place--Woodburn," said Maud. "Captain Raymond has, I
think, made a sort of earthly paradise of it; though for that matter one
might say pretty much the same of The Oaks, Ion, and several of the
other family estates."
"Yes; including those down in Louisiana," returned Dick--"Viamede,
Magnolia Hall, and a few others. By the way, you have never been down
there, have you?"
"No, never; but I am hoping that Cousin Elsie will invite me one of
these days."
"Suppose you don't wait for that, but accept an invitation from me,"
suggested Dick, giving her a very lover-like look and smile.
"From you?" she exclaimed, her tone expressing surprise and a little
bewilderment, "are you staying there?"
"At Viamede? No, not now. I have bought a plantation not very far from
there, and am trying to make it equal in beauty to Viamede. It will, of
course, take some time to accomplish that; but, to me, Torriswood seems
even now a very winsome place. And if I had my cousin Maud installed
there, as mistress, I should be one of the happiest of men."
"Oh! you want me to become your housekeeper?"
"Yes; housekeeper, homekeeper, heartkeeper--everything! Oh, Maud
darling! can't you understand that I love you and want you for my wife,
my best, nearest, and dearest friend, my heart's idol? I love you in a
way that I never loved anyone else. Can't you love me in the same
way--as something nearer and dearer than a mere cousin?"
Maud was blushing, trembling--wholly taken by surprise and hardly
knowing whether to be glad or sorry. "Oh, Dick! how can you?" she
stammered. "We are cousins, you know, and--and cousins ought not to--to
marry. I have often heard Cousin Arthur say so."
"Not first cousins, nor second, but we are neither; we are far enough
removed to be entirely safe so far as that is concerned. So dearest,
you need not hesitate on that account, if you feel that you can love me
well enough to be happy as my wife. Can you? If you cannot now, I may be
able to teach you to by clever courting. But I need a wife--I do indeed;
and I don't know how to wait. Don't make me wait. Can't you give me your
love--at least a little of it?"
"Oh, Dick! do you really care so much for me and my love--really love me
in that way?" she asked low and tremulously, her eyes full of happy
tears. "I never thought of such a thing before; but--but I do believe I
can--I do love you better than any other of my cousins; better
than--than anybody else in the world."
"Ah! dearest, you have made me very, very happy," he said joyously;
"happier than I ever was in my life before, and I shall go home far
richer than I came."
As he spoke he drew her to a rustic seat in a nook so concealed by the
trees and shrubbery and the winding of the path that they were entirely
hidden from view, and, putting an arm about her he held her close with
silent caresses that seemed very sweet to her; for she had been an
orphan for years, and often hungry for love greater than that of brother
or sister.
"Maud, dear," he said presently, "we have given ourselves to each other,
and why should we delay the final step? I do not want to go back to my
home alone; will you not go with me? It would make me the happiest of
men."
"But--but you are going very soon, I understood--in a few days."
"Yes; it would hardly do for me to wait longer than that; but what is
the use of waiting? We know each other now as thoroughly as we ever can
till we live together as man and wife."
"But I should have no time to prepare my wardrobe----"
"It is good enough, and can be easily added to when you are Mrs.
Percival," he said with a low, gleeful laugh. "I am ready to take you,
my darling, if you were without a single change of raiment. I do not
think you know it, dearest, but I am no longer the poor relation I used
to be. I have had a large practise, worked hard, and made some very
fortunate investments, so that I can truly say that I am a fairly
wealthy man. Ah, do give yourself into my keeping at once. I am heartily
tired of my lonely bachelor life, and it will be great joy to me if I
can go back, not to it, but to that of a happy married man. How a dear
little wife--such as my cousin Maud would make--would brighten and make
cheery that lonely home. Can you find it in your heart to refuse me the
favour I ask, sweet one?"
"I do not like to refuse you anything, dear Dick," she returned; "but it
is all so sudden and unexpected; do let me have a little time to think
it over and--and consult my friends and yours."
"Ah, well! I will try to wait patiently," he sighed; "wait, hoping you
will grant my request."
"Oh, Dick, dear Dick! I really do feel like doing anything in the world
that I can to make you happy. I will do whatever you wish, no matter
what other people may say. Only," she added, as if with sudden
recollection, "I suppose we must ask Uncle Dinsmore's consent."
"Yes; but I have no fear that it will be withheld. He and I are no
strangers to each other; he is my uncle, too, you know, and was my
guardian while I was young enough to need one. I think he will be
pleased that we are going into partnership,--you and I,--and will agree
with me that the sooner we begin the better."
"Provided that allows me time to get properly ready," she supplemented
with an arch look and smile.
"What preparation do you need?" he asked. "I am more than willing to
take you just as you are. You look perfectly charming in that dress,
and, for a wedding dress, the one you wore as bridesmaid to Cousin Rosie
seems to me entirely suitable. Indeed, my darling, you look bewitchingly
pretty in any and every thing you put on."
"Oh, you flatterer!" she laughed. "I can't expect other people to see
with your eyes; but, after all, the principal thing is to please you.
That will be my business for the rest of my life, I suppose," she added,
giving him a look of ardent affection.
"And mine to please you, dearest. Shall we not follow Rosie's good
example in making no secret of our engagement; at least so far as our
own people here assembled are concerned? Will you let me take you back
to the house now and introduce you there as my promised wife?"
"Do just as you please about it, Cousin Dick," she said. "You are older
and wiser than I."
"I certainly am older," he said laughingly as they rose, and he gave her
his arm; "but if I am wiser in some respects, you doubtless are in some
others. Perhaps we will find out all about that when we get to
housekeeping together."
Mr. Dinsmore had joined the group on the veranda. Mr. Lilburn and Annis,
Captain Raymond and Violet were there, too, and some others of the
married people, among them Mr. Horace Dinsmore, Jr., of The Oaks, and
his wife, as Dick and Maud came up the steps together. He led her
directly to his uncle.
"We have come for your blessing, sir, Cousin Maud and I," he said in
clear, distinct tones. "Will you give her to me? She is willing that you
should, and I promise to do all in my power to provide for her and make
her happy."
"Why, children, this is a surprise--but a pleasant one," exclaimed Mr.
Dinsmore. "Yes, I give you my blessing and wish you many happy years
together."
Then the others crowded about with exclamations of surprise and
pleasure, congratulations, good wishes, and questions. "How long had
they been lovers?" "Did they expect to marry very soon?"
"Yes, almost immediately," Dick answered to that last. "What was there
to wait for? They were old enough to know their own minds, he was well
able to support a wife, and had a home ready for her. It needed some
improvements to be sure, but they could be made all the better with Maud
there to give her opinion and advice."
"But she must have time to prepare her trousseau," said young Mrs.
Dinsmore.
"I have just been coaxing her out of that notion," laughed Dick,
regarding his promised wife with admiring eyes. "I want her, and the
wedding finery can be attended to somewhat later. I don't think anything
could be prettier or more becoming than the dress she wore at Cousin
Rosie's wedding, and why can't she be married in that?"
"Why, it would do, I suppose!" exclaimed Mrs. Dinsmore. "It is very
pretty and becoming, and, with a bridal veil added, would make a
suitable and handsome wedding dress."
"A wedding dress? Who is going to be married now?" cried a girlish
voice, and Sydney and Walter were seen coming up the steps. All turned
at the sound of her voice, and Dick answered:
"Your sister and I, Cousin Syd. Are you willing to take me for a
brother?"
"You!" she exclaimed, "you, Cousin Dick? Why, I never dreamed of such a
thing! But I have no objection; no, not the least in the world--except
that you'll be taking my sister away from me; I don't like that at all."
"No, Coz, that is altogether a mistake," Dick hastened to say. "I don't
want to separate you and Maud, and you have only to come along with us
to escape that. You will find plenty of room and a warm welcome at
Torriswood."
"Thank you," she said; "but it's so sudden I can't realise it at all
yet. When did you make up your minds to get married?"
"Half an hour ago, perhaps; I forgot to look at my watch to take exact
note of the time."
"Oh! is that the way you do when you are taking note of a patient's
pulse, or the time for administering a dose of medicine?"
But Dick was saved the trouble of replying, as relatives, older and
younger, came crowding up to learn what was going on.
Chester and Frank were as much surprised as Sydney had been, but by no
means displeased. They liked Dick as a cousin and had no objection to
accepting him as a brother-in-law. The newly affianced had no frowns or
objections to meet; everybody seemed pleased and interested, and the
only queries were as to when and where the marriage should take place.
"It should be at The Oaks, of course," said young Mr. Dinsmore. "That is
her home, and has been for years."
"And it was there mamma was married," said Violet, "and Maud might stand
in the very same place."
"Yes, I should be glad to have her do so," said Mrs. Travilla; "and she
and Dick need ask nothing more than that their marriage may prove as
happy a one as mine."
"Yes, Cousin Elsie, I agree with you in that," said Maud. "I will be
married at The Oaks, if Dick is satisfied to have it so."
"Entirely," he said; "and now it remains only to fix upon the day and
hour."
That question seemed more difficult to settle than the other; but Dick
finally had his way, and the morning of the day on which he was to start
for the far South was fixed upon as the time for the ceremony. The other
relatives from a distance would delay their departure long enough to be
present, the older Mr. Cyril Keith was chosen as the officiating
minister, and everyone seemed satisfied with all the arrangements.