“WELL, how many of you would like to go to the city to-day?”
the captain asked in pleasant tones the next morning at the
breakfast-table. “You, my dear?” looking at Violet.
“No, thank you, sir, I think not, as I have a number of matters to
attend to at home and will not be needed to assist in the shopping, as
mamma and Sister Elsie are both going; probably Evelyn also, as some
dresses are to be bought for her.”
“You will go, Marian?” he said inquiringly, turning to her as he spoke.
“You will want to exercise your own taste and judgment in the selection
of articles of dress; at least so I presume, as such is the case with
my eldest daughter,” he concluded with a smiling glance at Lulu. “And
she, I dare say, wants to be of the party.”
“If you are going, papa,” Lulu replied; “otherwise I’d rather stay at
home, if I may.”
“You may do exactly as you please, go or stay; so may Gracie.”
“But you don’t say whether you are going of not, papa.”
“I shall stay at home, as there are some matters for me to attend to,
perhaps nearly as important as those which will keep my wife at home,”
he said in a playful tone, turning toward her again as he spoke.
“I am not sorry to hear it, my dear,” Violet responded.
“And I don’t want to go,” said Grace. “I never do like to go to the
city without my father to take care of me,” with an affectionate look
up into his face. “Besides, I’ve promised to help Elsie arrange her
doll-house and make some new clothes for her dollies.”
“Ah? and of course promises must be kept; but as you do not want to go
without papa you will not feel it a hardship, I hope, to keep yours to
your little sisters.”
“But I wouldn’t want Gracie to stay at home if she wanted to go,” said
little Elsie; “no indeed I wouldn’t, papa.”
“No, my dear baby girl is not so selfish as that, I am sure,” he
returned with a loving look into the rosy, dimpled face. “But I feel
quite sure Gracie does not want to go.”
“And somehow papa always knows what we want, Elsie,” Grace said with a
contented little laugh.
“And as you will have Grandma Elsie, Aunt Elsie, Rosie and Evelyn
along to help you select your dresses and other things, you won’t
miss me if I stay at home, Marian,” said Lulu. “I want to get out our
school-books—Gracie’s and mine—and arrange our desks ready for school;
for papa says we are to begin lessons again to-morrow.”
“I shall miss you, I know,” Marian answered with a smile; “but of
course it is by no means necessary that you should go, and I should be
sorry to be a hindrance to you.”
Half an hour later the carriages from Ion and Fairview were seen coming
up the drive. The Raymonds and their guest were all on the veranda,
watching for them, Marian ready dressed for the little jaunt.
“Well, here we are!” called out a cheery voice as the foremost vehicle
drew up in front of the veranda. “How many of you are going with us?”
“Only one—our young guest,” the captain replied, handing Marian in as
he spoke. Cousin Ronald, Grandma Elsie, and her daughter Rosie were its
occupants, and each gave Marian an affectionate morning greeting. Then
Violet stepped forward for a moment’s chat with her mother, in which
Rosie and the captain joined; thus leaving Marian and Mr. Lilburn the
opportunity for a bit of private chat of their own.
“Lassie,” he said with a kindly smile, “dinna forget that you are a
sort o’ adopted child o’ my ain, and that I hae a father’s right to
at least help provide you wi’ a’ things needful,” slipping a roll of
bank-notes into her hand.
“Oh,” she exclaimed, half under her breath and with starting tears,
“how good and generous you are to me! I never had half as much in all
my life.”
“Why, my bairnie, you have na counted it yet!” he exclaimed with a low,
gleeful laugh.
“No, sir; but such a roll—so many bills!”
He laughed again. “It’s clear enough, lass, that you’ve had small
acquaintance wi’ bank-notes. One alone may be worth a thousand o’
another denomination. There are twenty there—ten tens and ten fives.”
“A hundred and fifty dollars! Oh, how much! I feel myself a woman of
wealth. But what can I ever do to show my gratitude?” she said low and
tremulously, happy, grateful tears shining in her eyes.
Then good-mornings were exchanged and the carriage drove on.
Toward evening Marian returned with what was to her an astonishing
wealth of lovely apparel. She had a great dislike of mourning, but had
chosen quiet colors, such as met with Grandma Elsie’s cordial approval.
Her purchases came to Woodburn in the carriage with her; she took
great delight in showing them to Violet and the little girls, and they
scarcely less in looking at them.
“Now,” said Violet, “we will get several persons to work to-morrow on
your dresses and have them ready as soon as possible for your wearing.
I am delighted with your choice, and feel sure everything you have
bought will prove very becoming.”
“Oh, how good you are to me, dear Cousin Vi!” exclaimed Marian with
feeling. “But I do think that after so much has been done for me, to
make up my dresses myself is the least that ought to be asked of me.”
“No, no, Marian,” said the captain, “that would never do. I could not
think of allowing it, because it would keep you so long out of the
school-room.”
“Ah, my dear, it is easy to see that you are in haste to get her where
she will be subject to your control,” exclaimed Violet laughingly.
“Ah, Lu, don’t look so indignant! that was but a jest—a sorry one
perhaps—for I appreciate the kindness of your father’s motives fully as
much, I think, as any one else can.”
“Ah, I fear my dear eldest daughter is but a silly little girl as
regards her father and the respect paid him by others,” remarked the
captain, laying a hand affectionately upon Lulu’s shoulder as she stood
by his side.
“I’m afraid I am, papa,” she returned, coloring and smiling rather
shamefacedly, “but I just can’t bear to have even Mamma Vi talk as if
you weren’t quite perfect.” At that the captain laughed.
“It would never do coming from a daughter,” he said, “but is entirely
excusable in a wife.”
“Thank you, sir,” laughed Vi, “I quite appreciate the privilege you
accord me.”
“I’m afraid it is time for me to go to my room and make myself neat for
tea,” said Marian, pulling out a pretty little watch; at which Lulu and
Grace cried, “How lovely!”
“Yes; it is another of Cousin Ronald’s gifts; something I had hardly
ever dared to hope to possess. Was it not good and kind in him to give
it to me?”
Then she told of the roll of bank-notes he had put into her hand that
morning, and that the price of the watch did not come out of that.
It was handed about from one to another, admired by all, then returned
to its owner, who immediately gathered up a number of her packages and,
with Lulu and a servant carrying the rest, hastened to her room.
The two girls came down again presently in answer to the tea-bell.
It was the usual tempting meal to which they sat down, simple but
daintily prepared, daintily served, and made all the more palatable and
enjoyable by cheerful chat in which even the little ones were allowed a
share.
On leaving the table Marian was taken by Lulu and Grace to see the
school-room.
“Oh, what a lovely room! what beautiful desks and comfortable-looking
chairs!” she exclaimed. “And with your dear father for teacher it must
be only a pleasure, a great pleasure, to study here!”
“So Lu and I think,” said Grace, “though I must own that there are
times when I’m a little lazy.”
“I too,” said Lulu, “oftener than Gracie, I think; but though papa
is always very patient and kind, he insists that if we are well the
lessons must be learned.”
“I am sure that is kind,” said Marian; “a good education is so, so
valuable—better than wealth, because not so easily lost.”
“And for other reasons quite as well worth considering,” added a manly
voice behind them, and turning in its direction they found Captain
Raymond standing near.
Marian’s look was inquiring and he went on: “Knowledge of the right
kind brings more real pleasure into one’s life than can be found in
wealth, fits one for greater usefulness, and is, as you just remarked,
not so easily lost.”
“Very true, sir,” Marian responded thoughtfully, “and if you help me to
gain that you will be a benefactor indeed.”
“I am disposed to do all I can to help you, my good girl,” he said in a
kindly tone; “and I think your companionship with Lulu in her studies
will so interest and spur her on that I shall feel more than repaid for
the slight addition to my labor.”
“Papa,” asked Grace thoughtfully, “doesn’t it say somewhere in the
Bible that it is better to get wisdom than gold?”
“Yes; in Proverbs Solomon exclaims, ‘How much better is it to get
wisdom than gold! and to get understanding rather to be chosen than
silver; and knowledge rather than choice gold. For wisdom is better
than rubies; and all the things that may be desired are not to be
compared to it.’ But doubtless he there refers to heavenly wisdom—a
saving faith in the Lord Jesus Christ, who is the wisdom by which God
established the heavens and founded the earth.”
“When am I to begin school, captain?” asked Marian presently.
“I think I will let you off until next week, if you wish it,” he
replied in a playful tone; “or, as I go to Annapolis for a day or two
early the week after, perhaps you may as well delay beginning your
studies until my return.”
“O Marian, don’t! do begin next Monday,” urged Lulu. “I do so want to
have you with us in the school-room and for you to find out what a good
and kind teacher papa is.”
“His eldest daughter being the judge,” remarked the captain with an
amused look.
“And his second daughter being of exactly the same opinion,” added
Grace, slipping a hand into his as she stood close at his side.
He pressed it affectionately, then, still holding it fast, proposed
that they should return to the veranda where they had been sitting
before the call to the tea-table.
He led the way with Grace, the others following, and presently the four
were seated there, Grace close to her father on one side, Lulu on the
other, and Marian near at hand.
“O Marian, do say you will begin lessons next Monday,” urged Lulu
again. “I’m perfectly sure your dresses can be fitted by that time, and
if there is any fitting not done, it can be attended to out of school
hours; or papa will let you go for a little; for he’s always reasonable
and kind; if it is his own little girl that says so,” she concluded
with a roguish look up into her father’s face.
“Ah, Marian, if you are wise you will not put too much faith in the
opinion of one who evidently looks at the person under discussion
through rose-colored glasses,” remarked the captain in a gravely
warning tone.
“It seems to be the way with every one who knows you, sir,” laughed
Marian; “so I will be on my guard till I have learned more of you
through my own observation.”
“And do you mean to wait till you have satisfied yourself upon that
point before you venture to become one of his pupils?” queried Lulu.
“It would not be waiting very long, as I am already satisfied that
Captain Raymond is to be trusted; for I have had a report of his
teaching and government from both Rosie and Evelyn; a most favorable
one from each,” Marian said in reply.
“And of course they wouldn’t be as likely to prove partial judges as
his own daughters who love him so dearly,” remarked Grace, with her arm
about her father’s neck, her eyes gazing fondly into his.
“I think I shall venture,” returned Marian. “My intention is to be
careful to keep rules and to work very hard at the lessons; so doing
I cannot think I shall run much risk of punishment. The worst he could
inflict (expelling me) would only—I was going to say, leave me where
it found me; it would be worse than that, though—real disgrace and
disappointment; but I don’t intend ever to be so idle, mischievous, or
rebellious as to bring it on myself.”
“I have not the slightest fear that you will,” said the captain, “and
I think too that I know you pretty thoroughly since the weeks spent in
the same house with you in Minersville.”
“And do you intend then to begin on Monday?” queried Lulu with, a look
of joyous expectancy.
“Yes, indeed; if nothing happens to prevent. I do not want to lose any
time, for I wish to be able to earn my own living as soon as possible.”
“Why, what a very independent young woman you seem to be, Cousin
Marian!” laughed a sweet girlish voice close at hand, and Violet
tripped lightly from the doorway to a chair which her husband, hastily
putting Grace from his knee, drew forward for her use.
“Thank you, my dear,” she said, taking possession. “You are intending
to become one of my husband’s pupils, Marian?”
“He has invited me, and I have thankfully accepted,” Marian replied. “I
think it a most kind and generous offer.”
“I entirely agree with you in that opinion,” Violet returned with a
look of ardent, admiring affection up into her husband’s face, “but can
assure you that kindness and generosity are nothing new for him.”
“Ah, I knew that much about him before he left Minersville,” returned
Marian. “Many there can testify to his great kindness and generosity.”
Just then a carriage was seen coming up the drive and the captain rose
with a sigh of relief to meet and welcome his guests, who proved to be
callers from one of the neighboring plantations.
The next morning, while the other young folks resumed the duties of the
school-room, Marian was, with Alma’s assistance, busied with planning,
cutting, and fitting the new dresses. Each had heard something of the
other’s story. Alma had many questions to ask about life among the
Mormons, and the more she heard from Marian in reply, the more did she
rejoice in the narrow escape of herself and sister from their toils.
The moment they were dismissed from the school-room, Rosie, Evelyn, and
Lulu came in search of Marian. Rosie had some news to tell.
“Mamma had a letter this morning from my brothers Harold and Herbert,
begging and entreating her to come to the commencement at Princeton.
I suppose you all know that they are to graduate, and they think they
must have mamma there; to enjoy their triumph, I presume,” she added
laughingly.
“And will she go?” asked Marian.
“I think she will,” replied Rosie, “and that grandpa and grandma will
go with her. They both have relatives in and about Philadelphia and
will take the opportunity to visit them too.” “On which side is the
relationship with Cousin Elsie?” asked Marian, with a look of interest.
“Oh, they are none of them her mother’s relatives,” said Rosie. “But
grandpa’s half-sister—Aunt Adelaide—married a brother of Grandma
Rose; so she and her children are related to both sides of our house,
and Grandma Rose has other brothers and sisters in that neighborhood
besides her old father and mother. So she likes to visit there
frequently.”
“And they of course must always be delighted to have her with them;
such a sweet, lovely lady as Cousin Elsie is!”
“But she will go first to Max’s commencement, won’t she, Rosie? I mean
the commencement at the Naval Academy at Annapolis,” said Lulu.
“She says she wants and intends to,” replied Rosie; “that is, if she
is well enough, and she certainly seems very well indeed just now.”
“I am so glad of it!” exclaimed Lulu. “We are all going, in the
_Dolphin_, if nothing happens to prevent, and I hope all of you girls
will be with us. It is so lovely there and I think we are likely to
have a delightful time.”
“It will all be new to you, Marian,” observed Rosie pleasantly.
“Oh, I do not expect to make one of the party,” returned Marian quickly
and with a blush.
“Papa said you were to go if you wanted to,” said Lulu, “and I am sure
you would if you could realize what a delightful trip it will be.”
“I thank both you and your father, Lulu, very much indeed,” Marian
returned with a blush and a smile, “but I have little or nothing fit
to wear at such a place and in such company, and it would be entirely
impossible for me to get ready in season.”
“Yes, I suppose so,” said Lulu, looking somewhat disappointed; “but
there will probably be other times when you can go,” she added,
brightening up.
At that moment Grace looked in at the door with an announcement:
“Grandma Elsie, Grandpa Dinsmore, and Cousin Ronald are in the veranda,
talking with papa and mamma.”
“And are we invited to join the conference?” queried Rosie in a merry,
jesting tone.
“I don’t think it’s a secret conference,” replied Grace, “and I suppose
we can all join it if we want to.”
“I should like to do so if I could leave my work,” Marian said, “but
I must stay and attend to it unless they say I am wanted for some
particular reason.”
“In that case we’ll let you know, Marian,” said Lulu as she and the
others hastened from the room together.
They found the older people arranging plans for attending the Annapolis
and Princeton commencements; it was already decided that to the first
all would go from Woodburn and Ion who cared to, some of them by rail,
the others in the _Dolphin_, then Mr. and Mrs. Dinsmore and Grandma
Elsie to the other; and also, before returning, they would spend some
weeks in visiting friends and relatives in and about Philadelphia.
The young folks listened quietly but with intense interest, now and
then exchanging glances which told plainly how delighted they were with
the prospect of having a share in the expedition to Annapolis; even
Grace, who usually thought home the most desirable place for her, being
no exception.
She presently stole to her father’s side, slipped her hand into his,
and looked up into his face with a bright, glad smile.
“I am to go too, papa?” she asked in a low tone, meant only for his ear.
“Unless you prefer to stay at home, daughter,” he said, putting an arm
around her and drawing her closer to him, smoothing her hair with the
other hand and smiling fondly down into the fair young face.
“Oh, no, sir! I want to go, ’specially as Mamma Vi and Elsie and baby
Ned will all go along; and we’ll be in the _Dolphin_ and not in the
tiresome cars.”
“Yes, I think the _Dolphin_ is far more comfortable than the cars,
and I trust the little trip will prove very enjoyable to us all,” he
replied, by no means ill-pleased that his little girl was so happy in
the prospect.