Read Elsie at Ion Page 18


  CHAPTER XVIII.

  THE old soldier and his children had hardly left the vicinity of ouryoung friends when Calhoun came to them with the glad news that Crolyhad so far recovered as to be able to speak naturally and recognize hisfriends, that his parents had been told of his danger and his rescue,and were now with him, weeping over his sufferings, rejoicing that hehad been spared to them, and full of gratitude to Dr. Conly for hislong-continued and untiring efforts for his resuscitation.

  “I am proud of my brother and don’t believe there is a better physicianin the United States,” concluded Calhoun, his eyes shining. “But,ladies and little folks, I just remember that Cousin Elsie charged meto tell you that dinner will be on the table in about ten or fifteenminutes.”

  “Oh, that’s good news, Cousin Cal!” exclaimed Rosie, “for I’m pow’fulhungry, as the darkies say. There’s nothing like sea-air to give one anappetite.” And with that they all started for the house.

  Arthur was longing to be with Marian, but at the urgent request of theelder Mr. Croly and his wife, consented to stay with their son, who hadbeen carried to his uncle’s cottage, through the rest of that day andthe following night.

  Then assuring them that Will had almost entirely recovered and therewas no longer the slightest need of his services, he was beginningto bid them good-morning when Mr. Croly, laying a detaining hand onhis arm, poured out earnest thanks for the service he had done themin saving the life of their only and well-beloved son, and delicatelyasked what was his charge for his services, hinting that both he andhis wife thought it should be a heavy one.

  “Oh, no, sir,” said Arthur, “I make no charge whatever for so triflinga service to one whom I had learned to love almost as a brother. Iam more than repaid by his spared life—the blessing of God upon myefforts,” and with a pleasant good-morning he hurried away.

  He met the family at the breakfast table and was received with joyfulgreetings. An hour later he and Marian sought the beach together. Itseemed a long time that they had been kept apart, and they greatlyenjoyed being again alone together for a time.

  When the mail was brought to the house Walter, as usual, came runningdown to them with their share—one letter for Marian and several forthe doctor.

  Glancing at his he noticed that one was without a postmark, andsomewhat curious to know whence it came, he opened that envelopefirst. It proved to be from the elder Mr. Croly, and contained a noteand another paper. Arthur opened and read the note first. In it thewriter stated that he felt that he owed a debt of gratitude for thespared life of his only and well-beloved child which he could never byany possibility repay, and that the doctor who had been instrumentalin saving that life would confer a favor by accepting the inclosedcertificate of stock as a small token of the grateful affection of WillCroly’s parents and of the dear boy himself, who would be delightedto have him do so, and feel that it was far from being an adequatereturn for the inestimable service rendered. The writer added thatthey would all feel sadly hurt should he refuse. All this Arthur readwith a pleasant glow of feeling. “They are far more grateful than mostpeople,” he said to himself as he opened the accompanying paper.

  “Can I believe my eyes?” he exclaimed mentally as he hastily glancedover it, then gave it a more careful examination.

  The certificate was for stock to the amount of one hundred thousanddollars yielding six per cent; there could be no mistake, and he feltthat he had suddenly become a rich man.

  But at that instant a low sob from Marian caught his ear, and instantlyeverything was forgotten but that she was in trouble.

  “My darling, what is it?” he asked, putting an arm about her anddrawing her closer to him.

  “Oh, I am so frightened!” she said with quivering lips. “Read thisletter from Sandy.”

  He did so at once. The boy wrote warning Marian that their father hadin some way learned that Captain Raymond had shown himself a friend toher, so suspected that she had gone to him for protection, had foundout the captain’s address, and started east with the probable intentionof hunting her up and carrying her back to Utah with him.

  “Oh, what can I do? Can you protect me from him?” asked Marian, as Dr.Conly refolded the letter and drew her closer into his arms.

  “He shall never take you from me,” he returned in determined tones andholding her close to his heart. “I think the surest thing will be forus to marry at once, if you are willing. O my darling, you are notafraid to trust me?”

  “No, no, indeed!” she exclaimed, adding, “if you are willing to take mejust as I am, only half educated and——”

  “More, much more than willing,” he replied. “But there is no time to belost. Let us go up at once to the house and consult with the friendsthere.”

  “Yes; especially Cousin Elsie, and my best and kindest of friends, dearold Cousin Ronald.”

  They were glad to find all the family in, and quickly told them theirstory; Arthur concluding with, “I think the best thing we can do isto marry at once, so that I shall have a prior right to that of Mr.McAlpine, and can prevent him from carrying her away from us.”

  “I agree with you, sir,” said Mr. Lilburn, “and should think it wellfor you to carry her away to some place unknown to the unnatural man,till he wearies of his search and goes back to Mormon-land.”

  “Then, if the plan is approved by my wife and others, I will go atonce for the _Dolphin_, and we will sail or steam away to-night withthe bride and groom,” said the captain. “We can visit Mount Desert andwhatever other points we please along the whole coast between this andour city, making occasional calls here if we like, and go home when wewish and are satisfied that the danger there is over.”

  “Oh, by all means let us go!” said Violet: “nothing could be moredelightful.”

  “And Herbert and I will drive in at once for a minister to performthe ceremony,” said Harold, taking up his hat. “Have you any choice,Marian?”

  “I know none of them but the one to whose preaching the rest of youhave been listening, and who kindly called to see me the other day,”she replied with a blush.

  “Then we will go for him,” returned Harold. “But stay a little,Harold,” said his mother; “dinner is just ready, and you will have timeenough afterward.”

  The summons to the table came at, that moment and all answered itpromptly.

  At the conclusion of the meal the captain, Harold, and Herbert droveinto the city—the first to see that all was right with the yacht andorder it brought that afternoon to the landing nearest the house, theother two in search of a minister to perform the ceremony that was tounite Marian and the doctor for life.

  “Now,” said Rosie as soon as they were gone, “we must help the bridedress. Come, mamma and Violet, your help will be needed, for it is wellknown and freely acknowledged that you both have excellent taste.”

  “Ah,” sighed Cousin Ronald, “I am sorry there is no time forfurnishing a handsomer trousseau. But fortunately it can be doneafterward.”

  “No, no, dear Cousin Ronald, I have plenty of fine clothes,” saidMarian. “You have been so, so good to me.”

  At that Dr. Conly, remembering the munificent fee he had received thatmorning, smiled quietly to himself; but not a word did he say to anyone about it. He felt that words could not express his appreciationof Mr. Croly’s generosity to himself and others instrumental in thesaving of his son’s life; for he had learned from Harold that the menin the boat that picked up the nearly drowned young man had each beenliberally rewarded, the one who drew him from the water especially so.Calling his Cousin Elsie aside, “Can we have any invited guests, do youthink?” he asked with a humorous smile.

  “Guests?” she repeated, with a look of surprise. “I hardly know whereto find them in time for so hastily gotten up a ceremony.”

  “The Crolys are near at hand,” he suggested.

  “Oh, yes! invite them if you wish to,” she returned with an amusedlaugh. “But we cannot get up anything like a proper wedding-feast on soshor
t a notice.”

  “Oh, I dare say they will make due allowance for haste, and expectlittle entertainment besides a good look at the bride,” he saidlaughingly.

  “Then I will send them a note of invitation. Also one to the youngerMr. and Mrs. Croly and to our poor friend Will.”

  “Cousin,” he said with a joyous look, “I have something for your earalone; other relatives and friends shall know of it by and by.” Then heread her Mr. Croly’s note and showed its inclosure.

  “Oh, Art, I am so glad, so very glad!” she said, her eyes full of happytears. “Yes, my dear fellow, give them all the warmest of invitations,though I hardly think Will or his father or mother will come; but theyshall have the warmest of welcomes if they do.”

  “Is not that your place as mistress of the house, Cousin Elsie?” heasked.

  “Oh, yes!” she replied. “I will write a note at once and send it by oneof the servants.”

  “And, if you please, I will send a note of thanks along with it. I willwrite it at once.”

  “I will send it with pleasure,” she said. “Oh, Cousin Arthur, I am soglad for you! It is not an extravagant gift for a man of Mr. Croly’smeans—and I think you have fairly earned it—but it must make you quiterich.”

  “It does indeed,” he said in joyous tones, “and will put it in mypower to make the dear girl who is trusting her happiness to me verycomfortable. It will also enable me to help those of my brothers andsisters who may need aid.”

  “You have always been a generous fellow,” she said, giving him a lookfull of appreciation and affection, “but I think if they do all theycan to help themselves they will need very little assistance from you.But,” she added with a smile, “we have each a great deal to do in alittle time and must not hinder each other.”

  The delegation sent to the city was very successful. The young menreturned early in the afternoon, bringing the minister of Marian’schoice, and shortly after the captain came in from his yacht, which layat anchor at no great distance from the shore.

  Neither Will Croly nor his mother ventured out, but his father came,bringing his sister-in-law with him.

  Marian looked very sweet and lovely in white tarletan andorange-blossoms brought by Harold from the city; and Arthur, stillrather youthful in appearance, seemed a not unsuitable bridegroom forher. Mary Keith, Rosie, and Lulu, Calhoun, Harold, and Herbert actedthe parts of bridesmaids and groomsmen.

  The ceremony was short and followed by some simplerefreshments—several kinds of cake, ice-cream, and lemonade.

  Trunks had been packed and sent aboard the yacht, and before sundownthe passengers followed; the bride and groom, Calhoun and Mary, andthe captain with his entire family. It was not at all a sad good-by toeither those who went or those who stayed behind, for it was expectedthat the _Dolphin_ would touch frequently at that port, so that herpassengers could pay a visit to the friends on shore, often on theirreturn taking some of them for a short distance out to sea.

  The evening air from the sea was very cool, and for Marian’s sake—shebeing as yet not far from on the invalid list—the older people confinedthemselves most of the time to the saloon. But Lulu, wrapping a shawlabout her shoulders, went out upon the deck, where she seated herselfand gazed silently out upon the sea.

  They were steaming northward scarcely out of sight of the shore. It wasa beautiful night, the moon shining brightly in the dark blue of theheavens, flecked here and there with soft, fleecy, white clouds, andthe sea beneath looking like molten silver where her rays touched it.

  Lulu enjoyed the sight and the delicious breeze that was blowingsoftly shoreward, yet her thoughts were on other matters and she wasunusually silent and still. She had no one to talk to, but was very aptwhen alone at such time and place to sing softly to herself.

  She had not moved for some minutes when she felt a hand laid gently oneach shoulder, while her father’s voice asked in affectionate tones,“What is my little girl thinking of?” He bent down over her as he spokeand she looked up into his face.

  “Oh, I’m so glad you have come, papa!” she said.

  “Are you, daughter?” he returned, coming around, seating himself by herside, and putting an arm about her waist. “I don’t know when I haveseen you so perfectly quiet and still. A penny for your thoughts.”

  “They’re not worth a penny, papa,” she said laughingly, laying her headon his shoulder and looking up lovingly into his eyes. “I’m afraid theywere rather foolish, but you can have them for nothing if you wantthem. You know I belong to you—I’m so glad I do—so you have a right tomy thoughts; haven’t you?”

  “We will leave that question to be considered at another time,” hereturned laughingly, hugging her up closer and giving her a kiss; “butsince you are willing, you may tell me what was the occasion of so muchgrave thought in this little careless head,” stroking her hair andrepeating his caress.

  “Well, then, papa, it was mostly about Marian I was thinking, and thatI should not like to be in her place. I like Cousin Arthur ever somuch for a doctor, but to have to leave my dear father and go to livewith him instead would be just dreadful. But then her father can’t beone bit like mine, and I think that if I were his daughter I’d be gladenough to leave him for Dr. Conly.”

  “And I think no one could reasonably blame you if you were; especiallyif, as in Marian’s case, it was to escape being forced into a marriagewith one who was far from agreeable to you and had already severalwives—which is a very wicked thing, forbidden by the law of both Godand man. But, situated as you are, it would, I think, be a very sillything for you to do as Marian has done, even were you of her age, andyou are really some three or four years younger.”

  “And that’s a very great difference,” remarked Lulu soberly, “and I’mglad of it, because I do so like to be my father’s own little girl. Andyou won’t ever make me get married if I don’t want to, will you, papa?”

  “No, daughter, certainly not. I shall be only too glad to keepyou—have you always and altogether my own.”

  “It’s so good of you, you dear papa,” she said, nestling closer to him.“I feel almost sure I shall never love any other man half so well as Ido you.”

  “That is pleasant news to me,” he said, with a smile down into thelarge, dark eyes lifted to his.