Chapter Second.
"Though fools spurn Hymen's gentle powers,We, who improve his golden hours,By sweet experience knowThat marriage, rightly understood,Gives to the tender and the goodA paradise below."--Cotton
Mr. Allison had fully kept his promise to Sophie, and Ashlands was againthe fine old place it had been prior to the war. The family, consistingof the elder Mrs. Carrington, a young man, named George Boyd, a nephewof hers who had taken charge of the plantation, Sophie and her fourchildren, had now been in possession for over a year.
Sophie, still an almost inconsolable mourner for the husband of heryouth, lived a very retired life, devoting herself to his mother and hisorphaned little ones.
Mrs. Ross, expecting to spend the fall and winter with them, had broughtall her children and a governess, Miss Fisk, who undertook the tuitionof the little Carringtons also during her stay at Ashlands, thus leavingthe mothers more at liberty for the enjoyment of each other's society.
It was in the midst of school-hours that the Ion carriage came drivingup the avenue, and Philip Ross, lifting his head from the slate overwhich he had been bending for the last half hour, rose hastily, threwdown his pencil and hurried from the room, paying no attention to MissFisk's query, "Where are you going, Philip?" or her command, "Come backinstantly: it is quite contrary to rules for pupils to leave theschool-room during the hours of recitation, without permission." Indeedhe had reached the foot of the staircase before the last word had lefther lips; she being very slow and precise in speech and action, whilehis movements were of the quickest.
"What now is to be done in this emergency?" soliloquized the governess,unconsciously thinking aloud. "Miss Gertrude Ross," turning to a girlof nine whose merry blue eyes were twinkling with fun, "follow yourbrother at once and inform him that I cannot permit any such act ofinsubordination; and he must return instantly to the performance of hisduties."
"Yes ma'am," and Gertrude vanished; glad enough of the opportunity tosee for herself who were the new arrivals. "Phil," she said, enteringthe drawing-room where the guests were already seated, "Miss Fisk saysyou're an insubordination and must come back instantly."
"Gertude," said her mother, laughing "come and speak to Mr. Travilla andyour little friends. Why yes, Phil, to be sure; how came you here whenyou ought to be at your lessons?"
"Because I wanted to see Elsie Travilla," he answered nonchalantly.
"Yes, but you should have asked for permission. I ought to send youback."
"But you won't, ma, you know that as well as I do. I'll not go back astep while Elsie stays."
"Well, well, it seems you are bound to have your own way, as usual,"Lucy answered, half laughing, half sighing, then resumed her talk withMr. Travilla.
Seeing that the little Travillas had listened to this colloquy in blankamazement, she felt much mortified at Phil's behavior, and on receivingthe invitation threatened to leave him at home as a punishment. But thisonly made matters worse: he insisted that go he would, and if sherefused permission he should never, never love her again as long as helived. And she weakly yielded.
"Lucy," said her mother, when the guests were gone, and the children hadleft the room, "you are ruining that boy."
"Well, I don't see how I can help it, mamma how could I bear to lose hisaffection?"
"You are taking the very course to bring that about; it is the weaklyindulged, not the wisely controlled, children who lose, first respect,and then affection for their parents. Look at Elsie's little family forinstance; where can you find children ruled with a firmer hand, or moredevotedly attached to their parents?"
Eddie was at that moment saying to his father, "Papa, isn't Phil Ross avery, _very_ naughty boy, to be so saucy and disobedient to his mamma?"
"My son," answered Mr. Travilla with gentle gravity, "when you havecorrected all Eddie Travilla's faults it will be time enough to attendto those of others." And the child hung his head and blushed for shame.
It was Mr. and Mrs. Horace Dinsmore who did the honors at Ion early inthe evening, receiving and welcoming each bevy of guests, and replyingto the oft repeated inquiry for the master and mistress of theestablishment, that they would make their appearance shortly.
Elsie's children, most sweetly and becomingly dressed, had gatheredabout "Aunt Rosie," in a corner of the drawing-room, and seemed to bewaiting with a sort of intense but quiet eagerness for the coming ofsome expected event.
At length every invited guest had arrived. All being so thoroughlyacquainted, nearly all related, there was an entire absence of stiffnessand constraint, and much lively chat had been carried on; but a suddenhush fell upon them, and every eye turned toward the doors opening intothe hall, expecting--they knew not what.
There were soft foot-falls, a slight rustle of silk, and Adelaideentered followed by Mr. Travilla with Elsie on his arm, in bridalattire. The shimmering satin, rich, soft lace and orange blossoms becameher well; and never, even on that memorable night ten years ago, had shelooked lovelier or more bride-like; never had her husband bent aprouder, fonder look upon her fair face than now as he led her to thecentre of the room, where they paused in front of their pastor.
A low murmur of surprise and delight ran round the room, but wassuddenly stilled, as the venerable man rose and began to speak.
"Ten years ago to-night, dear friends, I united you in marriage. EdwardTravilla, you then vowed to love, honor and cherish till life's end thewoman whom you now hold by the hand. Have you repented of that vow? andwould you be released?"
"Not for worlds: there has been no repentance, but my love has growndeeper and stronger day by day."
"And you, Elsie Dinsmore Travilla, also vowed to love, honor and obeythe man you hold by the hand. Have you repented?"
"Never, sir; never for one moment." The accents were low, sweet, clear,and full of pleasure.
"I pronounce you a faithful man and wife: and may God, in his goodprovidence, grant you many returns of this happy anniversary."
Old Mr. Dinsmore stepped up, kissed the bride and shook hands with thegroom. "Blessings on you for making her so happy," he said in quiveringtones.
His son followed, then the others in their turn, and a merry sceneensued.
"Mamma, it was so pretty, _so_ pretty," little Elsie said, clasping herarms about her mother's neck, "and now I just feel as if I'd been toyour wedding. Thank you, dear mamma and papa."
"Mamma, you are so beautiful, I'll just marry you myself, when I'm aman," remarked Eddie, giving her a hearty kiss, then gazing into herface with his great dark eyes full of love and admiration.
"I too," chimed in Violet. "No, no, I forget, I shall be a lady myself:so I'll have to marry papa."
"No, Vi, oo tan't have my papa; he's dus' my papa always," objectedHarold, climbing his father's knee.
"What a splendid idea, Elsie," Lucy Ross was saying to her friend, "youhave made me regret, for the first time, not having kept my weddingdress; for I believe my Phil and I could go through that catechismquite as well as you and Mr. Travilla. The whole thing, I suppose, wasquite original?"
"Among us: my namesake daughter proposed the wearing of the dress: andthe ceremony," turning to the minister, "was your idea, Mr. Wood, was itnot?"
"Partly, Mrs. Travilla; your father, Mrs. Dinsmore, and I planned ittogether."
"Your dress is as perfect a fit as when made, but I presume you had italtered," observed Lucy, making a critical examination of her friend'stoilet.
"No, not in the least," answered Elsie, smiling.
The banquet to which the guests were presently summoned, though gottenup so hastily, more than fulfilled the expectation of the Misses Conly,who as well as their mother and Aunt Enna did it ample justice; therewas a good deal of gormandizing done by the spoiled children present,spite of feeble protests from their parents; but Elsie's well trainedlittle ones ate contentedly what was given them, nor even asked for therich dainties on which others were feasting; knowing that papa and mammaloved them too dearly to deny them any rea
l good.
"Holloa, Neddie and Vi, why you've been overlooked!" said Philip Ross,coming toward the two little ones with a plate heaped up with richviands, "you've nothing but ice cream and plain sugar biscuit; here,take some of this pound cake and these bonbons. They're delicious, Itell you!"
"No, no, thank you: mamma says pound cake is much too rich for us, andwould make us sick," said Eddie.
"'Specially at night," added Vi, "and we're to have some bonbonsto-morrow."
"Goodest little tots ever I saw," returned Philip laughing. "Ma wantedme to let 'em alone, but I told her I'd risk the getting sick," he addedwith a pompous grown-up air.
"Phil, you certainly are an insubordination, as Miss Fisk said,"remarked his sister Gertrude, standing near, "I believe you think you're'most a man, but it's a great mistake."
"Pooh, Ger! people that live in glass houses shouldn't throw stones. Iheard you telling ma you wouldn't wear the dress she'd laid out for you.Elsie Travilla, allow me the pleasure of refilling your saucer."
"No, thank you, Phil, I've had all mamma thinks good for me."
"Time to go to bed, chillens," said mammy, approaching the little group,"de clock jes gwine strike nine. Here, Uncle Joe, take dese emptysaucers."
Promptly and without a murmur the four little folks prepared to obey thesummons, but cast wistful longing glances toward mamma, who was gaylychatting with her guests on the other side of the room. Just then theclock on the mantel struck, and excusing herself she came quickly towardthem. "That is right, dears; come and say good-night to papa and ourfriends; then go with mammy and mamma will follow in a few moments."
"What dear sweet creatures they are! perfect little ladies andgentlemen," remarked Mrs. Wood, as, after a courteous good-night to all,they went cheerfully away with their mammy.
"I wish mine were half as good," said Mrs. Ross.
"Now ma, don't expose us," cried Phil. "I've often heard you say Mrs.Travilla was a far better little girl than you; so of course herchildren ought to be better than yours."
"Some children keep their good behavior for company," sneered Enna, "andI've no doubt these little paragons have their naughty fits as well asours."
"It is quite true that they are not always good," Elsie said withpatient sweetness. "And now I beg you will all excuse me for a fewmoments, as they never feel quite comfortable going to bed without alast word or two with mamma."
"Before I'd make myself such a slave to my children!" muttered Enna,looking after her as she glided from the room. "If they couldn't becontent to be put to bed by their mammies, they might stay up allnight."
"I think Mrs. Travilla is right," observed the pastor; "theresponsibilities of parents are very great. God says to each one, 'Takethis child and nurse it for me, and I will give thee thy wages.'"