CHAPTER V.

“A babe in the house is a wellspring of pleasure.”

――TUPPER.

Spring and summer had waxed and waned and the gorgeous October hues

were again upon tree and shrub, its soft mellow haze everywhere, on

prairie, forest, town, and river.

Annis was not ill-pleased to be sent on an errand that gave her a long

walk in the sweet, bracing morning air.

She came hurrying home in almost breathless excitement, rushed

upstairs, and in at Mildred’s half-open door.

“O Milly! what do you think? I――”

But Mildred held up a warning finger.

“Excuse me, I forgot,” and Annis’s voice sank to a whisper. “I didn’t

wake him though,” she said, stealing on tiptoe to the side of the

cradle and bending down over the tiny sleeper. “O Milly, but he is a

beauty! even prettier than Zillah’s boy. Don’t you think so?”

“Don’t ask me, and don’t tell Zillah what you think about it,”

returned Mildred with a half-amused smile. “But what did you――Ah, I

see you have a letter for me,” holding out her hand for it.

“Yes; from Cousin Horace,” Annis answered, putting it into Mildred’s

hand; “and see! I have one from Elsie. And, O Milly, they want us to

come there to spend the winter, Elsie says. Do you think――”

“Us?”

“Yes; Brother Charlie, you, and me; Fan too, if she will go; but I

’most know she won’t.”

“I doubt if you or I will either; I wouldn’t leave Charlie, he

wouldn’t leave his patients, and baby is too young, I fear, for so

long a journey.”

Annis’s countenance fell. “O Milly! and I do so want to go! You don’t

care much about it, I suppose, because you’ve been there once, but I

never have.”

“Well, dear, we’ll discuss the question when your brother comes in,”

Mildred said, her eyes upon the open letter in her hand. “Yes, this is

from Cousin Horace, and I see contains a very warm invitation from

himself, his wife, and Elsie to all four of us――Charlie, my two little

sisters, and myself.”

“Well, I’ll go away till Percy wakes,” Annis whispered, with another

admiring look at the sleeping babe, and then stole on tiptoe from the

room.

She found her mother, Ada, and Fan in the sitting-room, all three busy

with the fall sewing for the family.

Her story was told in a breath. “See mother, see! a letter from

Elsie,” holding it up, while her face glowed with animation and

delight. “And, O Fan, she wants us to go and spend the winter at the

Oaks. And Milly had one from Cousin Horace too, and――”

“One what?” interrupted Ada, smiling amusedly into the bright, eager

face.

“Letter, to be sure. O mother, do you think we can go?”

“You two, all alone? No, indeed, my child.”

“_I’ll_ not go!” exclaimed Fan with decision, “I wouldn’t leave mother

and father and home so long for anything in the world!”

“No, not alone, mother; Brother Charlie and Milly are invited. But I’m

not sure, after all, that I do want to go and leave you,” Annis

sighed, taking a stool at her mother’s feet and laying her head in her

lap.

“And what could mother do without her baby?” Mrs. Keith said,

smoothing the bright curls with softly caressing hand. “But we will

not try to decide it all in a moment, dear. I doubt if the others go;

and if they do not, of course that will settle the question for you.”

“There’s Brother Charlie now!” Annis exclaimed, lifting her head to

listen; “yes, I hear his step on the stairs. Milly will show him the

letter now, and I hope he’ll say he can go. Mildred says she wouldn’t

go without him.”

Mildred looked up with a smile as her husband entered, stepping softly

that he might not disturb the slumbers of his little son and heir.

He bent over the cradle for an instant, then drew near and sat down by

her side.

“How would you like to go South for the winter?” he asked.

“Accept the invitation to the Oaks, do you mean?”

“I had not heard of it,” he said in some surprise; “but as matters are

I think it will be the very thing to do.”

He went on to explain that business of importance called him to the

neighborhood of his old home, and was likely to keep him there for

several months. “And of course,” he concluded, “I want to take my wife

and boy with me. Will you go, love?”

“Must you go? I don’t think I could stand so long a separation,” she

said, a slight mist coming over her sight at the very thought; “but

isn’t our boy too young for such a journey?”

“No, I think not; he is a strong, healthy little fellow, and the

journey, if we start within a week, need not subject him to much

exposure or fatigue. Can you get ready in that time? I find it is

quite important for me to go.”

“Yes, I can if necessary.”

“This is Wednesday,” he said reflectively; “suppose we consider it

settled that we are to start next Tuesday morning.”

“Very well. Fan and Annis are included in the invitation from the

Oaks. Are you willing to take charge of them in addition to wife and

child?” she asked, with playful look and smile.

“Certainly,” he answered cheerily, “the more the merrier.”

The babe woke, Mildred took him up, presently gave him to his father,

and they went down-stairs to let Annis know their decision, and “talk

the matter over with mother and the rest.”

As they entered the sitting-room Annis looked up with an eager “O

Brother Charlie, will you go?” while Fan dropped her work and holding

out her arms for the babe, asked if she might not take it.

“Not just yet, Aunt Fan,” the doctor said, with a good-humored smile,

dandling the babe as he spoke, “papa must have him for a little

while.”

“Till he begins to fret or cry,” remarked Ada laughingly, “then you’ll

be very ready to resign him to the first one who offers to take him.”

“Of course, isn’t that the way fathers always do?” the doctor

answered, with imperturbable good nature. “Yes, little sister,” to

Annis, “we are going; expect to leave here for the sunny South in the

morning stage next Tuesday. Are you going with us?”

“Going where? South, did you say?” asked a merry voice from the open

doorway.

All turned toward the speaker; it was Zillah standing there, making a

beautiful picture with her babe in her arms; a sweet, fair, chubby

little fellow, pink-cheeked, dark-eyed, older by a month or more than

Mildred’s boy.

Down went Fan’s work again, and with a bound she was at Zillah’s side,

holding out her hands to the child with a “Come to your auntie, sweet,

pretty pet!”

Zillah graciously resigned him, and accepting the chair gallantly

offered by the doctor, asked again what their talk was about.

“Suppose I read Cousin Horace’s letter aloud,” said Mildred, taking it

from her pocket.

“And Elsie’s, too,” said Annis, laying it in her sister’s lap.

Mr. Keith and Rupert coming in at that moment, followed almost

immediately by Wallace and Donald, she had the whole family for an

audience. Annis silently took possession of her father’s knee, and as

Mildred finished, with her arm about his neck whispered in his ear a

coaxing entreaty to be allowed to accept Elsie’s invitation.

“Wait a little, pet, till I hear what Brother Charlie has to say. But

how are father and mother to do without you for so long a time?” he

said, holding her close, with repeated caresses.

“Maybe you’ll enjoy me all the more when I come back,” was the arch

rejoinder.

“Ah, child! as if you were not already the very light of our eyes! But

there, we must stop talking and hear what the doctor is saying.”

The matter was under discussion for some time. Fan remained steadfast

to her resolution to stay at home, Annis urgent to be permitted to go.

Before night she had won the consent of both parents, letters of

acceptance had been despatched to the Dinsmores, and active

preparations for the journey set on foot.

The child’s heart misgave her now and then at thought of the long

separation from home, parents, and so many of her dear ones; but the

time was so short for all that had to be done to put her wardrobe in

such order as mother and sisters deemed desirable, that she was kept

in a whirl of excitement that up to the last hour left her little

leisure for dwelling upon anything but the business in hand, and the

pleasure in store for her at the journey’s end.

The parting was a hard one when it came; she went away drowned in

tears and sobbing pitifully, but presently forgot her grief in the

interest of new scenes and soothed by the kindly ministrations of her

brother and sister.

Mildred's Married Life, and a Winter with Elsie Dinsmore A sequel to Mildred and Elsie · 第 5 / 26 章