CHAPTER EIGHTEENTH.
"O what passions then What melting sentiments of kindly care, On the new parents seize." --THOMPSON'S AGAMEMNON.
"There is none In all this cold and hollow world, no fount Of deep, strong, deathless love, save that within A mother's heart!" --MRS. HEMANS.
Finding it so evidently the wish of both her husband and his mother, Elsiequietly and at once assumed the reins of government.
But with that mother to go to for advice in every doubt and perplexity,and with a dozen or more of well-trained servants at her command, herpost, though no sinecure, did not burden her with its duties; she stillcould find time for the cultivation of mind and heart, for daily walks andrides, and the enjoyment of society both at home and abroad.
Shortly after the return of the newly married pair, there was a grandparty given in their honor at Roselands; another at Ashlands, one atPinegrove, at the Oaks, and several other places; then a return was madeby a brilliant affair of the kind at Ion.
But when at last this rather wearying round was over, they settled down tothe quiet home life much more congenial to both; always ready to entertainwith unbounded hospitality, and ignoring none of the legitimate claims ofthe outside world, they were yet far more interested in the affairs oftheir own little one, made up of those nearest and dearest.
They were an eminently Christian household, carefully instructing theirdependents in the things pertaining to godliness, urging them to faith inJesus evidenced by good works; trying to make the way of salvation veryclear to their often dull apprehension, and to recommend it by their ownpure, consistent lives.
Night and morning all were called together--family and house servants--andMr. Travilla read aloud a portion of Scripture, and led them in prayer andpraise. Nor was a meal ever eaten without God's blessing having first beenasked upon it.
There was but one drawback to Elsie's felicity--that she no longer dweltunder the same roof with her father; yet that was not so great, as a dayseldom passed in which they did not meet once or oftener. It must be veryurgent business, or a severe storm, that kept him from riding or drivingover to Ion, unless his darling first appeared at the Oaks.
Aunt Wealthy and Lottie came to Ion within a fortnight after the returnfrom Viamede; and while the former divided the rest of her stay at theSouth between Ion and the Oaks, Lottie spent nearly the whole of hers withElsie.
In May, Harry Duncan came for his aunt, and Miss King returned with themto her paternal home. Our friends at Ion and the Oaks decided to spendtheir summer at home this year.
"We have traveled so much of late years," said Rose, "that I am reallytired of it."
"And home is so dear and sweet," added Elsie. "I mean both Ion and theOaks, Edward and papa; for somehow they seem to me to be both included inthat one dear word."
"That is right," responded her father.
"Yes; we seem to be all one family," said Mr. Travilla, contentedly,fondling Rosebud, whom he had coaxed to a seat upon his knee; "and like agood spouse, I vote on the same side with my wife."
"I too," said his mother, looking affectionately upon them both. "I haveno inclination to travel, and shall be much happier for having you allabout me."
The summer glided rapidly by, and vanished, leaving at Ion a pricelesstreasure.
It was a soft, hazy, delicious September morning; Elsie sat in her prettyboudoir, half-reclining in the depths of a large velvet-cushioned easychair. Her husband had left her a minute before, and she was--no, notquite alone, for her eyes were turning with a sweet, new light in them,upon a beautiful rosewood crib where, underneath the silken covers andresting on pillows of eider-down, lay a tiny form, only a glimpse of thepink face and one wee doubled-up fist to be caught through the lacecurtains so carefully drawn about the little sleeper.
A familiar step was heard in the outer room. The door opened quietly, andElsie looking up cried, "Papa," in a delighted yet subdued tone.
"My darling," he said, coming to her and taking her in his arms. "How niceto see you up again; but you must be careful, very, very careful, not tooverexert yourself."
"I am, my dear father, for Edward insists on it, and watches over me, andbaby too, as if really afraid we might somehow slip away from him."
"He is quite right. There, you must not stand, recline in your chairagain, while I help myself to a seat by your side. How are you to-day?"
"I think I never felt better in my life, papa; so strong and well that itseems absurd to be taking such care of myself."
"Not at all; you must do it. You seem to be alone with your babe. I hopeyou never lift her?"
"No, sir, not yet. That I shall not has been my husband's second order.Mammy is within easy call, just in the next room, and will come theinstant she is wanted."
"Let me look at her; unless you think it will disturb her rest."
"Oh, no, sir." And the young mother gently drew aside the curtain of thecrib.
The two bent over the sleeping babe, listening to its gentle breathing.
"Ah, papa, I feel so rich! you don't know how I love her!" whisperedElsie.
"Don't I, my daughter? don't I know how I love you?" And his eyes turnedwith yearning affection upon her face, then back to that of the littleone. "Six weeks old to-day, and a very cherub for beauty. Aunt Chloe tellsme she is precisely my daughter over again, and I feel as if I had now anopportunity to recover what I lost in not having my first-born with mefrom her birth. Little Elsie, grandpa feels that you are his; his precioustreasure."
The young mother's eyes grew misty with a strange mixture of emotion, inwhich love and joy were the deepest and strongest. Her arm stole round herfather's neck.
"Dear papa, how nice of you to love her so; my precious darling. She isyours, too, almost as much as Edward's and mine. And I am sure if weshould be taken away and you and she be left, you would be the the samegood father to her you have been to me."
"Much better, I hope. My dear daughter, I was far too hard with you attimes. But I know you have forgiven it all long ago."
"Papa, dear papa, please don't ever again talk of--of forgiveness from me;I was your own, and I believe you always did what you thought was for mygood; and oh, what you have been, and are to me, no tongue can tell."
"Or you to me, my own beloved child," he answered with emotion.
The babe stirred, and opened its eyes with a little, "Coo, coo."
"Let me take her," said Mr. Dinsmore, turning back the cover and gentlylifting her from her cozy nest.
Elsie lay back among her cushions again, watching with delighted eyes asher father held and handled the wee body as deftly as the most competentchild's nurse.
It was a very beautiful babe; the complexion soft, smooth, and very fair,with a faint pink tinge; the little, finely formed head covered with ringsof golden hair that would some day change to the darker shade of hermother's, whose regular features and large, soft brown eyes she inheritedalso.
"Sweet little flower blossomed into this world of sin and sorrow! Elsie,dearest, remember that she is not absolutely yours, her father's, or mine;but only lent you a little while to be trained up for the Lord."
"Yes, papa, I know," she answered with emotion, "and I gave her to Himeven before her birth."
"I hope she will prove as like you in temper and disposition as she bidsfair to be in looks."
"Papa, I should like her to be much better than I was."
He shook his head with a half-incredulous smile. "That could hardly be, ifshe has any human nature at all."
"Ah, papa, you forget how often I used to be naughty and disobedient; howoften you had to punish me; particularly in that first year after youreturned from Europe."
A look of pain crossed his features. "Daughter, dear, I am full of remorsewhen I think of that time. I fully deserved the epithet Travilla oncebestowed upon me in his righteous indignation at my cruelty to my gent
le,sensitive little girl."
"What was that, papa?" she asked, with a look of wonder and surprise.
"Dinsmore, you're a brute!"
"Papa, how could he say that!" and the fair face flushed with momentaryexcitement and anger towards the father of her child, whom she sothoroughly respected ind so dearly loved.
"Ah, don't be angry with him," said Mr. Dinsmore; "I was the culprit. Youcannot have forgotten your fall from the piano-stool which came so nearmaking me childless? It was he who ran in first, lifted you, and laid youon the sofa with the blood streaming from the wounded temple over yourcurls and your white dress. Ah, I can never forget the sad sight, or thepang that shot through my heart with the thought that you were dead. Itwas as he laid you down that Travilla turned to me with those indignantwords, and I felt that I fully deserved them. And yet I was even morecruel afterwards, when next you refused to obey when I bade you offendagainst your conscience."
"Don't let us think or talk of it any more, dear father; I love far betterto dwell upon the long years that followed, full of the tenderest care andkindness. You certainly can find nothing to blame yourself with in them."
"Yes; I governed you too much. It would probably have ruined a lessamiable temper, a less loving heart, than yours. It is well for parents tobe sometimes a little blind to trivial faults. And I was so strict, sostern, so arbitrary, so severe. My dear, be more lenient to your child.But of course she will never find sternness in either you or her father."
"I think not, papa; unless she proves very head-strong; but you surelycannot mean to advise us not to require the prompt, cheerful, implicitobedience you have always exacted from all your children?"
"No, daughter; though you might sometimes excuse or pardon a littleforgetfulness when the order has not been of vital importance," heanswered, with a smile.
There was a moment's silence: then looking affectionately into herfather's face, Elsie said, "I am so glad, papa, that we have had thistalk. Edward and I have had several on the same subject (for we are very,very anxious to train our little one aright); and I find that we allagree. But you must be tired acting the part of nurse. Please lay her inmy arms."
"I am not tired, but I see you want her," he answered with a smile, doingas she requested.
"Ah, you precious wee pet! you lovely, lovely little darling!" the youngmother said, clasping her child to her bosom, and softly kissing thevelvet cheek. "Papa, is she really beautiful? or is it only the motherlove that makes her so in my eyes?"
"No; she is really a remarkably beautiful babe. Strangers pronounce her soas well as ourselves. Do you feel quite strong enough to hold her?"
"Oh, yes, sir; yes, indeed! The doctor says he thinks there would now beno danger in my lifting her, but----" laughingly, and with a fond look upinto her husband's eyes, as at that moment he entered the room, "that oldtyrant is so fearful of an injury to this piece of his personal property,that he won't let me."
"That old tyrant, eh?" he repeated, stooping to take a kiss from the sweetlips, and to bestow one on the wee face resting on her bosom.
"Yes, you know you are," she answered, her eyes contradicting her words;"the idea of you forbidding me to lift my own baby!"
"My baby, my little friend," he said gayly.
Elsie laughed a low, silvery, happy laugh, musical as a chime of bells."Our baby," she corrected. "But you have not spoken to papa."
"Ah, we said good-morning out in the avenue. Dinsmore, since we are allthree here together now, suppose we get Elsie's decision in regard to thatmatter we were consulting about."
"Very well."
"What matter?" she asked, looking a little curious.
"A business affair," replied her husband, taking a seat by her side.
"I have a very good offer for your New Orleans property, daughter," saidMr. Dinsmore; "shall I accept it?"
"Do you think it advisable, papa? and you, Edward? I have great confidencein your judgments."
"We do; we think the money could be better and more safely invested inforeign stock; but it is for you to decide, as the property is yours."
"More safely invested? I thought I had heard you both say real estate wasthe safest of all investments."
"Usually," replied her father, "but we fear property there is likely todepreciate in value."
"Well, papa, please do just as you and my husband think best. You bothknow far more about these things than I do, and so I should rather trustyour judgment than my own."
"Then I shall make the sale; and I think the time will come when you willbe very glad that I did."
Mr. Dinsmore presently said good-bye and went away, leaving them alone.
"Are not your arms tired, little wife?" asked Mr. Travilla.
"No, dear; ah, it is so sweet to have her little head lying here; to feelher little form, and know that she is my own, own precious treasure."
He rose, gently lifted her in his arms, put himself in the easy chair andplaced her on his knee.
"Now I have you both. Darling, do you know that I love you better to-daythan I ever did before?"
"Ah, but you have said that many times," she answered, with an arch, yettender smile.
"And it is always true. Each day I think my love as great as it can be,but the next I find it still greater."
"And I have felt angry with you to-day, for the first time since you toldme of your love." Her tone was remorseful and pleading, as though shewould crave forgiveness.
"Angry with me, my dearest? In what can I have offended?" he asked insorrowful surprise.
"Papa was saying that he had sometimes been too hard with me, and hadfully deserved the epithet you once bestowed upon him in your righteousindignation. It was when I fell from the piano-stool; do you remember?"
"Ah, yes, I can never forget it. And I called him a brute. But you willforgive what occurred so long ago? and in a moment of anger aroused by mygreat love for you?"
"Forgive you, my husband? ah, it is I who should crave forgiveness, and Ido, though it was a momentary feeling; and now I love you all the betterfor the great loving heart that prompted the exclamation."
"We will exchange forgiveness," he whispered, folding her closer to hisheart.