CHAPTER III.
THE tea-hour drew near and the young folks came trooping in and joinedtheir elders on the veranda. All had presently found seats and werechatting gayly with their elders or among themselves. Marian alone,occupying a chair close by Mr. Lilburn’s side, was a silent thoughinterested listener, until Captain Raymond, turning to her, asked inhis pleasant tones how she liked Ion.
“O sir!” she exclaimed with enthusiasm, “it is lovely! lovely! but notany more beautiful than Woodburn.”
“Ah! I am glad you like Woodburn also, because I want it to be one ofyour homes, and its school-room one of the places where you may getsuch an education as I know you want. Do you think you could contentyourself with me for a tutor?”
“O sir! how kind you are to me!” she exclaimed with tears of joy in hereyes. “If you will accept me as a pupil I shall strive most earnestlyto do credit to your teaching. But ah! I fear you will find me but adull scholar, and teaching me much too heavy a tax upon your time andpatience.”
“Never fear,” he returned pleasantly. “I incline to the opinion that Ishall enjoy having one or more pupils. I think it will add interest tomy work and take scarcely more of my time.”
While this little conversation was being carried on, Cousin Ronald hadcaught a very wishful, entreating look from Walter, to which he hadnodded a smiling assent, and now the loud warble of a bird, seeminglyright in their midst, caught every eye and ear and all eyes turnedtoward the spot from which the sound seemed to come.
“Why, where is the birdie? I don’t see it,” exclaimed little Elsie asthe sounds suddenly ceased.
“I ’spect it flewed away,” cried little Ned, sending quick glances fromside to side and overhead.
Walter’s face was full of suppressed delight, but he dodged suddenly,putting up his hand to drive away a bee that seemed to be circlingabout his head, buzzing now at one ear, now at the other; thenrecalling the probable cause, he laughed aloud, others of the companyjoining in with him.
Marian, too, had heard the buzzing and was looking up and around for abee, when a “Peep, peep, peep!” close at hand made her look down andaround upon the floor at her feet.
Her countenance expressed surprise and bewilderment that no chick wasin sight.
“Peep, peep, peep!” came again, seemingly from her pocket or amongthe folds of her dress-skirt. She rose hastily to her feet, shook herskirts, then thrust her hand into her pocket.
“Why, where is it?” she asked, looking somewhat alarmed.
“Why, it seems to have come to me!” Grace Raymond exclaimed as the“Peep, peep, peep!” was heard again apparently from among her skirts,and she too sprang to her feet and shook herself with a downward glanceat them and a little nervous laugh. She was near her father, and hedrew her to his knee, saying softly, “Don’t be alarmed, darling, foryou know there is really nothing there.”
“Walter, can’t you hunt up that chick?” asked Edward, looking gravelyat his little brother. “Think how bad it would be for the poor littlething if somebody should accidentally tramp upon it.”
“Why, I shan’t need to hunt it!” exclaimed Walter. As the “Peep, peep,peep!” seemed to come from his pocket, he thrust his hand into it andsprang to his feet as he spoke; but at that instant a loud and furiousbarking just around the corner of the veranda attracted every one’sattention.
“Down, sir, down!” cried a rough voice. “I’m neither thief nor tramp.”
Another furious bark, then a low growl came in response, and baby Nedran to his father with a frightened cry, “O papa, I’s ’fraid doggiebite!”
“No, no, Neddie boy, papa won’t let him harm his baby,” the captainsaid, taking the little trembler in his arms, while Grace still keptclose at his side.
The barking suddenly ceased, nor was the rough voice heard again,and Walter, running to the corner whence the sounds had proceeded,announced with a merry laugh that neither man nor dog was in sight.
“The chicken and the bee seem to have gone too,” he added as he camerunning back, “and there’s the tea-bell.”
With that all rose and repaired to the dining-room. There Marian wasseated beside Lulu, the captain next, Grace on his other side, andViolet and her two little ones opposite them.
A blessing was asked and the plates were filled; then a lull in theconversation was broken by a rough voice saying in a sarcastic tone,“Now ef you folks was as perlite and hospitable as we are out West,you’d invite this stranger to take a seat among ye and have a cup o’coffee and something to eat.”
Almost every one looked startled and all eyes turned in the directionof the sounds, which seemed to come from behind Edward’s chair.
“An invisible speaker, as might have been expected,” laughed Violet.
“Show yourself, sir, take a seat at the table, and you shall be helpedto all you wish of anything and everything upon it,” said Edward,glancing about as if in search of the unexpected intruder.
“Show myself? Humph! keen-eyed you must be if you can’t see a man o’ mysize,” returned the voice.
“Perhaps so, sir,” replied Edward, turning a knowing and amused lookupon Cousin Ronald, “and I think I do see you very well. But have youbeen neglected? Your plate and cup look to me to be well filled.”
“My plate and cup, sir?” exclaimed the voice in tones of indignantsurprise. “Pray where are they?”
“Directly in front of Mr. Lilburn—or Cousin Ronald, as we, hisrelatives, are accustomed to call him.”
“Why, laddie, I had thought you a hospitable host! and now would yourob me o’ my supper which you have just bestowed upon me, and giveit to an unknown beggar-man?” exclaimed Mr. Lilburn in well-feignedastonishment and indignation.
“It does look very inhospitable, Ned; something to make me blush for mygrandson,” remarked Mr. Dinsmore, with a slight smile.
“Well, well,” cried the rough voice, “it shall never be said of me thatI set a family together by the ears. So I’ll leave. Good-by.”
A shuffling sound followed as of some one moving across the room in thedirection of a door opening upon the veranda, then all was quiet. Everyhead turned in the direction of the sound, and as they ceased therewas a general laugh; but the expression of Marian’s countenance wasperplexed and slightly alarmed.
“Who—what was it?” she asked with a slight tremble in her voice.
“Nothing alarming, my dear,” replied Grandma Elsie in her sweet gentletones; “we have a ventriloquist with us, that is all; and he notinfrequently kindly amuses us with an exhibition of his skill.”
“Ah! and it is Cousin Ronald?” Marian returned inquiringly and with ahalf-smiling glance into Mr. Lilburn’s genial face.
Returning her smile, “Ah, little cousin, you seem to be as good atguessing as if you were a born Yankee,” he said pleasantly.
“But it can hardly be that you are the only one,” she said, as withsudden recollection. “Captain Raymond,” turning to him, “I think Iunderstand now about some puzzling things that occurred while you wereat our house year before last. You too are a ventriloquist, are younot?”
“No, my dear girl, by no means,” he replied.
“Then I have not, as I believed, found a solution of the mystery,” sheremarked reflectively; “but I think some one else who was there musthave been a ventriloquist; for I know not how else to account for somethings that occurred at Minersville when you were there: the beggar-boyand dog heard by four of us, but not seen; the voice speaking from thetree and the porch roof, that made Mr. Riggs so angry, and all thatoccurred on the evening of the Fourth, as you Americans call it.”
“And that was doubtless the work of a ventriloquist,” acknowledged thecaptain in a pleasant tone, “but I cannot claim any talent in thatline.”
“Then who could it have been?” she said with a puzzled look. “Ah!perhaps the English gentleman or his son. I remember they were oftenthere conversing with you and Master Max.”
Captain Raymond did not think it necessa
ry to reply to that remark,and other subjects of conversation were presently introduced. At theconclusion of the meal all repaired to the veranda or the grounds, andCousin Ronald drew Marian aside for a little private chat.
“Tell me about your brother, lass,” he said. “Is he happy? suited withhis employment, think you?”
Marian hesitated for an instant, and then said frankly: “Poor Sandylongs for a good education, sir, but is willing to work hard and longfor the means to pay his way in school and college.”
“He is a good, industrious lad?”
“Never a better one, sir; he did all in his power to make himselfuseful and helpful to our dear mother and to me. He is as industriousand painstaking a lad as ever was seen. I am proud indeed of mybrother—the only one of my mother’s children, besides myself, that isleft.”
“Ah, he should have, must have help,” said Cousin Ronald, leaningmeditatively on his gold-headed cane. “Marian, lass,” turninginquiringly to her, “he wouldna refuse it frae his own auld kinsman?”
“O Cousin Ronald, could you—have you it in your kind heart to help himto it? Bless you for it, sir! It would be the making of the dear lad.And should it please the Lord to spare his life I am very sure you maytrust him to repay every cent of your outlay for him!” Marian criedwith starting tears, and clasping her hands in an ecstasy of joy.
“Indeed could I and will I, lass,” said the old gentleman, takingnote-book and pencil from his pocket. “Give me his address and I willwrite to him to-night.”
He wrote it down at Marian’s dictation, then, restoring book and pencilto his pocket, “Now tell me of the dear mother, lassie,” he said inlow, feeling tones. “She loved the Lord, served him, and died trustingin his atoning blood?”
“She did, she did, sir!” sobbed the bereaved girl. “It was an awfulsorrowful life she led from the time that cruel Mormon missionarydeceived and cajoled my father into belief in the wicked doctrines andpractices of that faith—so contrary to the teachings of God’s own holyword—but she trusted in Jesus and at the last was full of joy that shewas about to leave this world to dwell forever with him in that blessedland where sin and sorrow never enter. It was a terrible loss to me,but not for worlds would I bring her back, hard, hard though it be tolive without her dear love and companionship.”
“Yes, dear lass, but life is short, and if you trust in the Lord andhis righteousness, you and she will spend a blessed eternity togetherat his right hand. But I will leave for the present,” he added, “forevidently Cousin Elsie is watching for an opportunity to have a bit ofprivate chat with you also.”
With that the old gentleman rose and moved away and their lovely ladyhostess took his place by Marian’s side. She talked to the young girlin the kindliest manner, saying that she must let her be as a mother toher now while she was so young as to need a mother’s loving care. “Andyou must let us, your own relatives, provide all needful things foryou until you are educated and fitted to take care of yourself; whichwe will endeavor to do, remembering that all we have is the Lord’s,intrusted to us to be used in his service, a part of which is helpingothers to fit themselves for usefulness.”
“O cousin, how kind, how kind you and all these new-found relativesare!” exclaimed the young girl with emotion. “I cannot deny that I amtoo proud to—to enjoy, as perhaps I ought-being under such obligations;but I will and do accept it, hoping that my heavenly Father will someday enable me to repay—not the kindness, that could never be done—butthe moneyed part of the obligation.”
“That is right, dear girl,” Elsie said, pressing tenderly the handshe had taken into hers, “and to begin with, I want to see that youare provided with clothing as good and abundant as have the otheryoung members of our family connection. To-morrow Cousin Ronald andI, and one or more of my daughters, expect to go to the city and makepurchases for you, and you shall accompany us and let your own tasteand judgment be used in the selection of dresses and other neededarticles, or stay behind and trust to our taste, as you may prefer.However, you need not decide that question to-night. The captain andViolet insist that you shall go back to Woodburn with them, and we willcall at an early hour in the morning to hear what your decision is andtake you with us, if you care to go.”
“Dear Cousin Elsie, I don’t know how to thank you!” Marian exclaimedwith emotion; “you, and indeed all these new-found relatives, are sowonderfully kind to me; one who has not the shadow of a claim uponthem.”
“No, that is a mistake of yours, dear girl,” Elsie returned. “TheBible bids us—those to whom God has given more or less of this world’sgoods—‘that they do good, that they be rich in good works, ready todistribute, willing to communicate; laying up in store for themselvesa good foundation against the time to come, that they may lay hold oneternal life.’ But I will not detain you longer, for I would have youenjoy the company of our dear young folks to the full.”
“I enjoy it greatly, but not more than your own, dear, sweet cousin,”returned the young girl, gazing into Grandma Elsie’s beautiful eyeswith her own full of grateful, happy tears.
“You have enjoyed yourself to-day?” Grandma Elsie asked in tones oftender solicitude.
“Oh, very, very much!” was the quick, earnest rejoinder. “I neverbefore had just such a day in all my life; though my mother used totell me of similar ones in hers, for her near kith and kin were richerand of higher station than my father’s—and were ill-pleased that shemarried him,” she ended with a sigh.
“She married for love, I suppose?” Elsie said inquiringly.
“Yes,” sighed Marian, “for love; but, as time proved, far more thanhalf the love was on her side—unless it may be that love may turn tothat which is little better than hatred.”
“Ah, was it so bad as that?” Elsie asked with a grieved look into thesad eyes of her young relative. “If so, one cannot blame you if youhave well-nigh ceased to love one so heartless as he has shown himselfto be.”
“Jesus said, ‘By their fruits ye shall know them,’ and such are thefruits of Mormonism,” returned Marian; “the fruits brought forth inthe lives of those who follow its hellish teachings. Is that toohard a word, cousin? It teaches lying, polygamy, assassination—theirunscriptural, horrible blood-atonement doctrine—not one of which is tobe found anywhere in God’s own holy word. Oh, I thank the Lord that Ihave escaped out of their hands!”
“You well may, and I am very thankful for you, my poor, dear cousin,”Elsie returned in tones of heartfelt sympathy.
But just then Rosie came and asked if Marian could not be spared totake part in some games the young people were about to begin.
An hour later the Woodburn carriage was in waiting at the verandasteps, and the captain and his party entered it and were driven home.
On their arrival there Gracie and the little ones went directly to bed,and while Violet was engaged in attendance upon them, the captain,Lulu, and Marian had the veranda to themselves.
“Here, Marian, take this big rocking-chair,” said Lulu, drawing oneforward, “and give me your hat. I’m going to hang mine on the rack inthe hall, and may just as well take yours too; and papa’s,” holdingout her hand for his, which he gave her with an approving smile as heseated himself upon a settee near the chair she had given Marian.
The next minute she was with them again, nestling close to his side,her arm around his neck, his about her waist, her eyes gazing up withardent affection into his while her pretty little white hand strokedhis face lovingly and toyed with his beard.
He was talking to Marian and hardly showed consciousness of Lulu’scaresses except that he stroked her hair, patted her cheek, and pressedhis lips absently once or twice to it or her forehead.
Marian’s eyes filled at the sight, and she had much ado to keep hervoice steady while answering his queries in regard to the growth andprosperity of Minersville, its schools, churches, and public works.
“Ah, what bliss to have such a father—so dear and kind!” was thethought in her heart. She express
ed that thought to Lulu when they badegood-night after going upstairs.
“Indeed it is!” was Lulu’s earnest rejoinder, “and I wish yours and allfathers were like mine. He isn’t foolishly indulgent; all his childrenknow they must yield ready and cheerful obedience whenever he gives anorder, but it is always so evidently for our good, and so pleasantlyspoken, unless we are showing ourselves wilful and stubborn, that itis not at all hard for any but a very bad, contrary child—such I havesometimes been, I’m ashamed to own—to obey.”
“How blessed you are, Lulu!” sighed Marian. “But,” she added with alook of surprise, “you did not bid him good-night, and I could not helpwondering at the omission.”
“Ah, that was because he will come presently to my room for just a fewminutes’ chat and a good-night kiss,” Lulu said with a joyous smile.“Mamma, my own mother, used to do it, but she is gone now, and toour great joy papa takes her place in that. I would not miss it foranything; so good-night and pleasant dreams, for I must go.”
“Good-night, you dear, sweet girl,” Marian said, folding her arms aboutLulu for an instant, and kissing her with warmth of affection. “I loveyou, and my now sainted mother loved you too. But oh, what would I notgive for such a father as yours!”