ELSIE AT NANTUCKET
A Sequel to _Elsie's New Relations_
by
MARTHA FINLEY
1884
PREFACE.
Three years ago I spent some six weeks on Nantucket Island, making thetown of the same name my headquarters, but visiting other points ofinterest, to which I take the characters of my story; so that indescribing the pleasures of a sojourn there during our heated term, Iwrite from experience; though, in addition to my own notes, I have madeuse of Northrup's "'Sconset Cottage Life" to refresh my memory andassist me in giving a correct idea of the life led by summer visitorswho take up their abode for the season in one of those odd littledwellings which form the "original 'Sconset."
Should my account of the delights of Nantucket as a summer resort leadany of my readers to try it for themselves, I trust they will not meetwith disappointment or find my picture overdrawn.
M.F.
CHAPTER I.
"How happy they,Who from the toil and tumult of their livesSteal to look down where naught but ocean strives."
--_Byron._
"Well, captain, for how long have you Uncle Sam's permission to stay onshore this time?" asked Mr. Dinsmore, as the family at Ion sat about thebreakfast-table on the morning after Captain Raymond's arrival.
"Just one month certain, sir, with the possibility that the leave ofabsence may be extended," was the reply, in a cheery tone; "and as Iwant to make the very most of it, I propose that our plans for a summerouting be at once discussed, decided upon, and carried out."
"I second the motion," said Mr. Dinsmore. "Are all the grown peopleagreed? The consent of the younger ones may safely be taken forgranted," he added, with a smiling glance from one to another.
"I am agreed and ready for suggestions," replied his wife.
"And I," said his daughter.
"Vi is, of course, since the proposition comes from her husband," Edwardremarked, with a sportive look at her; then glancing at his own littlewife: "and as I approve, Zoe will be equally ready with her consent."
"Have you any suggestion to offer, captain?" asked Mr. Dinsmore.
"I have, sir; and it is that we make the island of Nantucket our summerresort for this year, dividing the time, if you like, between NantucketTown and the quaint little fishing village Siasconset, or 'Sconset, asthey call it for short. There is an odd little box of a cottage therebelonging to a friend of mine, a Captain Coffin, which I have partiallyengaged until the first of September. It wouldn't hold nearly all of us,but we may be able to rent another for the season, or we can pitch atent or two, and those who prefer it can take rooms, with or withoutboard, at the hotels or boarding-houses. What do you all say?" glancingfrom his mother-in-law to his wife.
"It sounds very pleasant, captain," Elsie said; "but please tell us moreabout it; I'm afraid I must acknowledge shameful ignorance of thatportion of my native land."
"A very small corner of the same, yet a decidedly interesting one,"returned the captain; then went on to give a slight sketch of itsgeography and history.
"It is about fifteen miles long, and averages four in width. NantucketTown is a beautiful, quaint old place; has some fine wide streetsand handsome residences, a great many narrow lanes running in alldirections, and many very odd-looking old houses, some of theminhabited, but not a few empty; for of the ten thousand former residentsonly about three thousand now remain."
"How does that happen, Levis?" asked Violet, as he paused for a moment.
"It used to be a great seat of the whale-fishery," he answered; "indeed,that was the occupation of the vast majority of the men of the island;but, as I presume you know, the whale-fishery has, for a number ofyears, been declining, partly owing to the scarcity of whales, partlyto the discovery of coal-oil, which has been largely substituted forwhale-oil as an illuminant (as has gas also, by the way), and tosubstitutes being found or invented for whale-bone also.
"So the Nantucketers lost their principal employment, and wandered offto different parts of the country or the world in search of another; andthe wharves that once presented a scene full of life and bustle are nowlonely and deserted. Property there was wonderfully depreciated for atime, but is rising in value now with the influx of summer visitors. Itis becoming quite a popular resort--not sea-side exactly, for there youare right out in the sea."
"Let us go there," said Mrs. Dinsmore; "I think it would be a pleasantvariety to get fairly out into the sea for once, instead of merelyalongside of it."
"Oh, yes, do let us go!"
"I'm in favor of it!"
"And I!"
"And I!" cried one and another, while Mr. Dinsmore replied, laughingly,to his wife, "Provided you don't find the waves actually rolling overyou, I suppose, my dear. Well, the captain's description is veryappetizing so far, but let us hear what more he has to say on thesubject."
"Haven't I said enough, sir?" returned the captain, with a good-humoredsmile. "You will doubtless want to find some things out for yourselveswhen you get there."
"Are there any mountains, papa?" asked little Grace. "I'd like to seesome."
"So you shall, daughter," he said; "but we will have to go elsewherethan to Nantucket to find them."
"No hills either?" she asked.
"Yes, several ranges of not very high hills; Saul's Hills are thehighest; then there are bluffs south of 'Sconset known as SunsetHeights; indeed, the village itself stands on a bluff high above thesandy beach, where the great waves come rolling in. And there is 'TomNever's Head.' Also Nantucket Town is on high ground sloping graduallyup from the harbor; and just out of the town, to the north-west, are theCliffs, where you go to find surf-bathing; in the town itself you mustbe satisfied with still-bathing. An excellent place, by the way, toteach the children how to swim."
"Then you can teach me, Edward," said Zoe; "I'd like to learn."
"I shall be delighted," he returned, gallantly.
"Papa," asked Max, "are there any woods and streams where one may huntand fish?"
"Hardly anything to be called woods," the captain answered; "trees ofany size are few on the island. Except the shade trees in the town, Ithink some ragged, stunted pines are all you will find; but there arestreams and ponds to fish in, to say nothing of the great ocean. Thereis some hunting, too, for there are plover on the island."
"Well, shall we go and see for ourselves, as the captain advises?" askedMr. Dinsmore, addressing the company in general.
Every voice answered in the affirmative, though Elsie, lookingdoubtfully at Violet, remarked that she feared she was hardly strongenough for so long a journey.
"Ah, that brings me to my second proposition, mother," said CaptainRaymond; "that--seeing what a very large company we shall make,especially if we can persuade our friends from Fairview, the Oaks, andthe Laurels to accompany us--we charter a yacht and go by sea."
"Oh, captain, what a nice idea!" cried Zoe, clapping her hands. "I lovethe sea--love to be either beside it or on it."
"I think it would be ever so nice!" Rosie exclaimed. "Oh, grandpa andmamma, do say yes!"
"I shall not oppose it, my dear," Elsie said; "indeed, I think it mayperhaps be our best plan. How does it strike you, father?"
"Favorably," he replied, "if we can get the yacht. Do you know of onethat might be hired, captain?"
"I do, sir; a very fine one. I have done with it as with thecottage--partially engaged it--feeling pretty sure you would allfall in with my views."
"Captain," cried Zoe, "you're just a splendid man! I know of only onethat's more so," with a laughing look at her husband.
The captain bowed his acknowledgments. "As high praise as I couldpossibly ask, my dear sister. I trust that one may always stand first inyour esteem."
/> "He always will," said Zoe; "but," with another glance, arch andsmiling, into Edward's eyes, "don't tell him, lest he should growconceited and vain."
"Don't tell him, because it would be no news," laughed Edward, gazingwith fondness and admiration at the blooming face of the lovedflatterer.
The talk went on about the yacht, and before they left the table thecaptain was empowered to engage her for their use. Also the 'Sconsetcottage he had spoken of, and one or two more, if they were to be had.
"You will command the vessel, of course, captain?" several voices said,inquiringly, all speaking at once.
"If chosen commander by a unanimous vote," he said.
"Of course, of course; we'll be only too glad to secure your services,"said Mr. Dinsmore, everybody else adding a word of glad assent.
"How soon do we sail, captain?" asked Zoe. "Must we wait for an answerfrom Nantucket?"
"No; I shall send word by this morning's mail, to Captain Coffin, thatwe will take his cottage and two others, if he can engage them for us.But there is no time to wait for a reply."
"Can't we telegraph?" asked Violet.
"No; because there is no telegraph from the mainland to the island.
"Now, ladies all, please make your preparations as rapidly as possible.We ought to be off by the first of next week. I can telegraph for theyacht, and she will be ready for us, lying at anchor in our own harbor.
"But, little wife," turning to Violet, with a tenderly affectionate air,"you are not to exert yourself in the least with shopping, sewing, orpacking. I positively forbid it," he added, with playful authority.
"That is right, captain," Elsie said, with a pleased smile. "She is notstrong enough yet for any such exertion, nor has she any need to makeit."
"Ah, mamma," said Violet, "are you not forgetting the lessons you usedto give us, your children, on the sin of indolence and self-indulgence?"
"No, daughter; nor those on the duty of doing all in our power for thepreservation of health as one of God's good gifts, and to be used in Hisservice."
They were all gathered upon the veranda now in the cool shade of thetrees and vines, for the weather was extremely warm.
"I wish we were ready to sail to-day," said Zoe. "How delicious thesea-breeze would be!"
A nice-looking, pleasant-faced colored woman stepped from the doorwaywith a little bundle in her arms, which she carried to Violet.
The captain, standing beside his wife, bent over her and the babe with aface full of love and delight.
"Isn't she a darling?" whispered Violet, gazing down upon the tinycreature with all a young mother's unspeakable love and pride in herfirst-born, then up into her husband's face.
"That she is!" he responded; "I never saw a fairer, sweeter babe. Ishould fear to risk her little life and health in a journey to Nantucketby land; but going by sea will, I think, be more likely to do her goodthan harm."
"It's all her, her, when you talk about that baby," laughed Rosie; "whydon't you call her by her name?"
"So we will, Aunt Rosie, if you will kindly inform us what it is,"returned the captain, good-humoredly.
"I, sir!" exclaimed Rosie; "we have all been told again and again thatyou were to decide upon the name on your arrival; and you've beenhere--how many hours?--and it seems the poor little dear is namelessyet."
"Apparently not greatly afflicted by it either," said the captain,adopting Rosie's sportive tone. "My love, what do you intend to callyour daughter?"
"Whatever her father appoints as her name," returned Vi, laughingly.
"No, no," he said; "you are to name her yourself; you have undoubtedlythe best right."
"Thank you; then, if you like, she shall be mamma's namesake; her firstgranddaughter should be, I think, as the first grandson was papa's."
"I highly approve your choice," he said, with a glance of affectionateadmiration directed toward his mother-in-law; "and may a strongresemblance in both looks and character descend to her with the name."
"We will all say amen to that, captain," said Edward.
"Yes, indeed," added Zoe, heartily.
"Thank you both," Elsie said, with a gratified look; "I appreciate thecompliment; but if I had the naming of my little granddaughter, sheshould be another Violet; there is already an Elsie in the familybesides myself, you know, and it makes a little confusion to have toomany of the same name."
"Then, mamma, we can make a variety by calling this one Else for short,"returned Violet, gayly, holding up the babe to receive a caress fromits grandmother, who had drawn near, evidently with the purpose ofbestowing it.
"What a pretty pet it is!" Elsie said, taking it in her arms and gazingdelightedly into the tiny face. "Don't you think so, captain?"
"Of course I do, mother," he said, with a happy laugh. Then, examiningits features critically: "I really fancy I see a slight resemblance toyou now, which I trust is destined to increase with increasing years.But excuse me, ladies; I must go and write that all-important letter atonce, or it will be too late for the mail."
He hurried away to the library, and entering it hastily, but withoutmuch noise, for he wore slippers, found Lulu there, leaning moodily outof a window.
She had stolen away from the veranda a moment before, saying to herself,in jealous displeasure, "Such a fuss over that little bit of a thing! Ido believe papa is going to care more for it than for any of us, his ownchildren, that he had long before he ever saw Mamma Vi; and it's justtoo bad."
Knowing Lulu as he did, her father instantly conjectured what waspassing in her mind. It grieved and angered him, yet strong affectionwas mingled with his displeasure, and he silently asked help of God todeal wisely with this child of his love.
He remembered that Lulu was more easily ruled through her affectionsthan in any other way, and as she turned toward him, with a flushed andshamefaced countenance, he went to her, took her in his arms, held herclose to his heart, and kissed her tenderly several times.
"My dear, dear little daughter," he said. "How often, when far away onthe sea, I have longed to do this--to hold my dear Lulu in my arms andfeel hers about my neck and her sweet kisses on my lips."
Her arms were instantly thrown round his neck, while she returned hiskisses with interest.
"Papa," she said, "I do love you so, _so_ dearly; but I 'most wonder youdon't quit loving such a hateful girl as I am."
"Perhaps I might not love an ill-tempered, jealous child belonging tosomebody else," he said, as if half in jest, half in earnest; "but youare my own," drawing her closer and repeating his caresses, "my veryown; and so I have to love you in spite of everything. But, my littlegirl," and his tone grew very grave and sad, "if you do not fightdeterminately against these wrong feelings you will never know rest orhappiness in this world or the next.
"But we won't talk any more about it now; I have no time, as I ought tobe writing my letter. Run away and make yourself happy, collectingtogether such toys and books as you would like to carry with you toNantucket. Grandma Elsie and Mamma Vi will decide what you and the restwill need in the way of clothing."
"I will, papa; and oh, but I think you are good to me!" she said, givinghim a final hug and kiss; "a great deal better than I deserve; but Iwill try to be good."
"Do, my child," he said; "and not in your own strength; God will helpyou if you ask Him."
For the moment thoroughly ashamed of her jealousy of the baby, she ranback to the veranda, where the others still were, and bending over it asit lay its mother's arms, kissed it several times.
Violet's face flushed with pleasure. "My dear Lulu, I hope you andlittle Else are going to be very fond of each other," she said.
"I hope so, Mamma Vi," Lulu answered, pleasantly; then, in a sudden fitof penitence, added, "but I'm afraid she'll never learn any good fromthe example of her oldest sister."
"My dear child, resolve that she shall," said Grandma Elsie, standingby; "you cannot avoid having a good deal of influence over her as shegrows older, and do not forget that you wi
ll have to give an accountfor the use you make of it."
"I suppose that's so," Lulu answered, with a little impatient shrug ofher shoulders; "but I wish it wasn't." Then, turning abruptly away, "Maxand Gracie," she called to her brother and sister, "papa says we may goand gather up any books and toys we want to take with us."
The three ran off together in high glee. The ladies stayed a littlelonger, deep in consultation about necessary arrangements which mustfall to their share: then dispersed to their several apartments, withthe exception of Violet, who, forbidden to exert herself, remained whereshe was till joined by her husband, when he had finished and despatchedhis letter. It was great happiness to them to be together after theirlong separation.
Mr. Dinsmore and Edward had walked out into the avenue, and were seatedunder a tree in earnest conversation.
"Talking tiresome business, I suppose," remarked Zoe, in a half-petulanttone, glancing toward them as she spoke, and apparently addressingViolet, as she was the only other person on the veranda at the moment.
"Yes, no doubt; but we must have patience with them, dear, because itis very necessary," Violet answered, with a smile. "Probably they arediscussing the question how the plantation is to be attended to in theirabsence. You know it won't take care of itself, and the men must have ahead to direct their labors."
"Oh yes, of course; and for that reason Ned is kept ever so busy whilewe are here, and I do think it will be delightful to get away to theseashore with him, where there will be nothing to do but enjoyourselves."
Zoe skipped away with the last word, ran up to her room, and beganturning over the contents of bureau drawers and taking garments fromwardrobes and closets, with the view of selecting such as she might deemit desirable to carry with her on the contemplated trip.
She was humming softly a snatch of lively song, feeling very gay andlight-hearted, when, coming across a gray travelling-dress a littleworse for the wear, her song suddenly ceased, while tears gathered inher eyes, then began to fall drop by drop as she stood gazing down, uponthis relic of former days.
"Just one year ago," she murmured. "Papa, papa! I never thought I couldlive a whole year without you; and be happy, too! Ah, that seemsungrateful, when you were so, so good to me! But no; I am sure you wouldrather have me happy; and it would be ungrateful to my dear husband if Iwere not."
She put the dress aside, wiped away her tears, and took down another.It was a dark woollen dress. She had travelled home in it the previousfall, and had worn it once since on a very memorable occasion; her cheekcrimsoned at the recollection as she glanced from it to her husband, whoentered the room at that instant; then her eyes fell.
"What is it, love?" he asked, coming quickly toward her.
"Nothing, only--you remember the last time you saw me in this dress? Oh,Ned, what a fool I was! and how good you were to me!"
He had her in his arms by this time, and she was hiding her blushingface on his breast. "Never mind, my pet," he said, soothing her withcaresses; "it is a secret between ourselves, and always shall be, unlessyou choose to tell it."
"I? No indeed!" she said, drawing a long breath; "I think I shouldalmost die of mortification if any one else should find it out; but I'mglad you know it, because if you didn't my conscience wouldn't give me abit of peace till I confessed to you."
"Ah! and would that be very difficult?"
"Yes; I don't know how I could ever find courage to make the attempt."
"Are you really so much afraid of me?" he asked, in a slightly aggrievedtone.
"Yes; for I love you so dearly that your displeasure is perfectlyunendurable," she replied, lifting her head to gaze fondly into hiseyes.
"Ah, is that it, my darling?" he said, in a glow of delight. "I deemmyself a happy man in possessing such a treasure as you and your dearlove. I can hardly reconcile myself to the thought of a separation foreven a few weeks."
"Separation!" she cried, with a start, and in a tone of mingled pain andincredulity. "What can you mean? But I won't be separated from you; I'myour wife, and I claim the right to cling to you always, _always_!"
"And I would have you do so, if it could be without a sacrifice of yourcomfort and enjoyment, but--"
"Comfort and enjoyment!" she interrupted; "it is here in your arms or byyour side that I find both; nowhere else. But why do you talk so? isanything wrong?"
"Nothing, except that it seems impossible for me to leave the plantationfor weeks to come, unless I can get a better substitute than I know ofat present."
"Oh, Ned, I am so sorry!" she cried, tears of disappointment springingto her eyes.
"Don't feel too badly about it, little wife," he said, in a cheery tone;"it is just possible the right man may turn up before the yacht sails;and in that case I can go with the rest of you; otherwise I shall hopeto join you before your stay at Nantucket is quite over."
"Not my stay; for I won't go one step of the way without you, unless youorder me!" she added, sportively, and with a vivid blush; "and I'm notsure that I'll do it even in that case."
"Oh, yes you will," he said, laughingly. "You know you promised to bealways good and obedient on condition that I would love you and keepyou; and I'm doing both to the very best of my ability."
"But you won't be if you send me away from you. No, no; I have a rightto stay with you, and I shall claim it always," she returned, clingingto him as if she feared an immediate separation.
"Foolish child!" he said, with a happy laugh, holding her close; "thinkwhat you would lose: the sea voyage in the pleasantest of company--"
"No; the pleasantest company would be left behind if you were," sheinterrupted.
"Well, very delightful company," he resumed; "then I don't know how manyweeks of the oppressive heat here you would have to endure, instead ofenjoying the cool, refreshing breezes sweeping over Nantucket. Surely,you cannot give it all up without a sigh?"
"I can't give up the thought of enjoying it all with you withoutsighing, and crying, too, maybe," she answered, smiling through tears;"but I'd sigh and cry ten times as much if I had to go and leave youbehind. No, Mr. Travilla, you needn't indulge the hope of getting rid ofme for even a week. I'm determined to stay where you stay, and go onlywhere you go."
"Dreadful fate!" he exclaimed. "Well, little wife, I shall do my best toavert the threatened disappointment of your hopes of a speedy departureout of this heated atmosphere and a delightful sea voyage to that famousisland. Now, I must leave you and begin at once my search for asubstitute as manager of the plantation."
"Oh, I do hope you will succeed!" she said. "Shall I go on with mypacking?"
"Just as you please, my dear; perhaps it would be best; as otherwise youmay be hurried with it if we are able to go with the others."
"Then I shall; and I'm determined not to look for disappointment," shesaid, in a lively, cheery tone, as he left the room,
At the conclusion of his conference with Edward, Mr. Dinsmore sought hisdaughter in her own apartments. He found her busied much as Zoe was,looking over clothing and selecting what ought to be packed in thetrunks a man-servant was bringing in.
She had thrown aside the widow's weeds in which she was wont to arrayherself when about to leave the seclusion of her own rooms, and donned asimple white morning dress that was very becoming, her father thought.
"Excuse my wrapper, papa," she said, turning toward him a bright, sweetface, as he entered; "I found my black dress oppressive this warmmorning."
"Yes," he said; "it is a most unwholesome dress, I think; and for thatreason and several others I should be extremely glad if you would giveit up entirely."
"Would you, my dear father?" she returned, tears springing to her eyes.
"I should indeed, if it would not involve too great a sacrifice offeeling on your part. I have always thought white the most suitable andbecoming dress for you in the summer season, and so did your husband."
"Yes, papa, I remember that he did; but--I--I should be very loath togive the least occasion for any one
to say or think he was forgotten byher he loved so dearly, or that she had ceased to mourn his loss."
"Loss, daughter dear?" he said, taking her in his arms to wipe away thetears that were freely coursing down her cheeks, and caress her withexceeding tenderness.
"No, papa, not lost, but only gone before," she answered, a lovelysmile suddenly irradiating her features; "nor does he seem far away. Ioften feel that he is very near me still, though I can neither see norspeak to him nor hear his loved voice," she went on, in a dreamy tone, afar-away look in the soft brown eyes as she stood, with her head on herfather's shoulder, his arm encircling her waist.
Both were silent for some moments; then Elsie, lifting her eyes to herfather's face, asked, "Were you serious in what you said about my layingaside mourning, papa?"
"Never more so," he answered. "It is a gloomy, unwholesome dress, and Ihave grown very weary of seeing you wear it. It would be very gratifyingto me to see you exchange it for more cheerful attire."
"But black is considered the most suitable dress for old and elderlyladies, papa; and I am a grandmother, you know."
"What of that?" he said, a trifle impatiently; "you do not look old, andare, in fact, just in the prime of life. And it is not like you to beconcerned about what people may think or say. Usually your only inquiryis, 'Is it right?' 'Is it what I ought to do?'"
"I fear that is a deserved reproof, papa," she said, with unaffectedhumility; "and I shall be governed by your wishes in this matter, forthey have been law to me almost all my life (a law I have loved toobey, dear father), and I know that if my husband were here he wouldapprove of my decision."
She could not entirely suppress a sigh as she spoke, nor keep the tearsfrom filling her eyes.
Her father saw and appreciated the sacrifice she would make for him.
"Thank you, my darling," he said. "It seems selfish in me to ask it ofyou, but though partly for my own gratification, it is really still morefor your sake; I think the change will be for your health andhappiness."
"And I have the highest opinion of my father's wisdom," she said, "andshould never, never think of selfishness as connected with him."
Mrs. Dinsmore came in at this moment.
"Ah, my dear," she said, "I was in search of you. What is to be doneabout Bob and Betty Johnson? You know they will be coming home in a dayor two for their summer vacation."
"They can stay at Roselands with their cousins Calhoun and Arthur Conly;or at the Oaks, if Horace and his family do not join us in the trip toNantucket."
"Cannot Bob and Betty go with us, papa?" Elsie asked. "I have no doubtit would be a very great treat to them."
"Our party promises to be very large," he replied; "but if you twoladies are agreed to invite them I shall raise no objection."
"Shall we not, mamma?" Elsie asked, and Rose gave a hearty assent.
"Now, how much dressmaking has to be done before the family can be readyfor the trip?" asked Mr. Dinsmore.
"Very little," the ladies told him, Elsie adding, "At least if you arewilling to let me wear black dresses when it is too cool for white,papa. Mamma, he has asked me to lay aside my mourning."
"I knew he intended to," Rose said, "and I think you are a dear gooddaughter to do it."
"It is nothing new; she has always been the best of daughters," Mr.Dinsmore remarked, with a tenderly affectionate look at Elsie. "And, mydear child, I certainly shall not ask you to stay a day longer thannecessary in this hot place, merely to have new dresses made when youhave enough even of black ones. We must set sail as soon as possible.Now, I must have a little business chat with you. Don't go, Rose; it isnothing that either of us would care to have you hear."