CHAPTER TWENTY-FIFTH.
"Whatsoever a man soweth, that shall he also reap." --GAL. vi. 7.
Elsie and her children returned home healthful and happy, with scarce anybut pleasing recollections of the months that had just passed.
Not so with Mrs. Conly and Virginia. They seemed soured and disappointed;nothing had gone right with them; their finery was all spoiled, and theywere worn out--with the journey they said, but in reality far more by latehours and dissipation of one sort and another.
The flirtation with Captain Brice had not ended in anythingserious--except the establishing of a character for coquetry forVirginia--nor had several others which followed in quick succession.
The girl had much ado to conceal her chagrin; she had started out withbright hopes of securing a brilliant match, and now, though not yettwenty, began to be haunted with the terrible, boding fear of oldmaidenhood.
She confided her trouble to Isadore one day, when a fit of extremedepression had made her unusually communicative.
Isa could scarce forbear smiling, but checked the inclination.
"It is much too soon to despair, Virgy," she said; "but indeed, I do notthink the prospect of living single need make one wretched."
"Perhaps not you, who are an heiress; but it's another thing for poor,penniless me."
Isadore acknowledged that that probably did make a difference.
"But," she added, "I hope neither of us will ever be so silly as to marryfor money. I think it must be dreadful to live in such close connectionwith a man you do not love, even if he is rolling in wealth; but supposehe loses his money directly? There you are, tied to him for life withouteven riches to compensate you for your loss of liberty."
"Dear me, Isa, how tiresome! Where's the use of supposing he's going tolose his money?"
"Because it's something not at all unlikely to happen; riches do takewings and fly away. I do not feel certain that Aunt Delaford's money willever come to me, or that, if it does, I may not lose it. So I intend toprepare to support myself if it should ever become necessary."
"How?"
"I intend to take up the English branches again, also the highermathematics, and make myself thorough in them (which I am far from beingnow; they do not teach them thoroughly at the convent), so that I may beable to command a good position as a teacher.
"And let me advise you to do the same."
"Indeed, I've no fancy for such hard work," sneered Virginia. "I'd rathertrust to luck. I'll be pretty sure to be taken care of somehow."
"I should think if any one might feel justified in doing that it would beCousin Elsie," said Isadore; "but Uncle Horace educated her in a way tomake her quite capable of earning her own living, and she is doing thesame by every one of her children."
"Such nonsense!" muttered Virginia.
"Such prudence and forethought, I should say," laughed her sister.
A few days after this Isadore was calling at Ion and in the course ofconversation Mrs. Travilla remarked, with concern, "Virginia looks reallyunhappy of late. Is her trouble anything it would be in my power torelieve?"
"No; unless she would listen to good counsel from you. It is reallynothing serious; and yet I suppose it seems so to her. I'm almost ashamedto tell you, cousin, but as far as I can learn it is nothing in the worldbut the fear of old-maidenhood," Isa answered, half laughing.
Elsie smiled.
"Tell her from me that there is plenty of time yet. She is two or threeyears younger than I was when I married, and," she added with a bright,happy look, "I have never thought I lost anything by waiting."
"I'm sure you didn't, mamma," said Violet, who was present. "But how veryodd of Virgy to trouble about that! I'm glad people don't have to marry,because I shall never, never be willing to leave my dear home, and myfather and mother. Especially not to live with some stranger."
"I hope it may be some years before you change your mind in regard tothat," her mother responded with a loving look.
Elsie was not bringing up her daughters to consider marriage the chief endof woman; she had, indeed, said scarcely anything on the subject till hereldest was of an age to begin to mix a little in general society; then shetalked quietly and seriously to them of the duties and responsibilities ofthe married state and the vast importance of making a wise choice inselecting a partner for life.
In their childhood she had never allowed them to be teased about beaux.She could not prevent their hearing, occasionally, something of the kind,but she did her best to counteract the evil influence, and had succeededso well in that, and in making home a delight, that her children one andall, shunned the thought of leaving it, and her girls were as easy andfree from self-consciousness in the society of gentlemen as in that ofladies; never bold or forward; there was nothing in their manner thatcould give the slightest encouragement to undue familiarity.
And then both she and their father had so entwined themselves about thehearts of their offspring, that all shared the feeling expressed byViolet, and truly believed that nothing less than death could everseparate them from these beloved parents.
There was a good deal to bring the subject of marriage prominently beforetheir minds just at present, for the event of the winter was the bringinghome of a wife by their Uncle Horace, and "Aunt Rosie" was to be marriedin the ensuing spring.
The approaching Centennial was another topic of absorbing interest.
That they might reap the full benefit of the great Exhibition, they wentNorth earlier than usual, the middle of May finding them in quietoccupancy of a large, handsome, elegantly furnished mansion in thevicinity of the Park.
Here they kept open house, entertaining a large circle of relatives andfriends drawn thither, by a desire to see this great world's fair.
The Dalys were with them, husband and wife each in the same capacity as atIon, which left Mr. and Mrs. Travilla free to come and go as they wished,either with or without their children.
They kept their own carriages and horses and when at home drove almostdaily to the Exhibition.
Going there with parents and tutor, and being able to devote so much timeto it, the young people gathered a great store of general information.
Poor Molly's inability to walk, shut her out from several of thebuildings, but she gave the more time and careful study to those whosecontents were brought within her reach by the rolling chairs.
Her cousins gave her glowing descriptions of the treasures of the Artbuilding, Horticultural Hall, Women's Department, etc., and sincerelysympathized with her in her deprivation of the pleasure of examining themfor herself.
But Molly was learning submission and contentment with her lot, and wouldsmilingly reply that she considered herself highly favored in being ableto see so much, since there were millions of people even in our own land,who could not visit the Exhibition at all.
One morning, early in the season, when as yet the crowd was not verygreat, the whole family had gone in a body to Machinery Hall to see theCorliss engine.
They were standing near it, silently gazing, when a voice was heard in therear.
"Ah, ha! ah, ha! um h'm; ah, ha! what think ye o' that now, my lads? is itworth looking at?"
"That it is, sir!" responded a younger voice in manly tones, full ofadmiration, while at the same instant, Elsie turned quickly round with theexclamation, "Cousin Ronald!"
"Cousin Elsie," he responded, as hand grasped hand in cordial greeting.
"I'm so glad to see you!" she said. "But why did you not let us know youwere coming? Did you not receive my invitation?"
"No, I did not, cousin, and thought to give you a surprise. Ah, Travilla,the sight of your pleasant face does one good like a medicine.
"And these bonny lads and lasses; can they be the little bairns of eightyears ago? How they have grown and increased in number too?" he said,glancing around the little circle.
He shook hands with each, then introduced his sons, two tall, well built,comely
young men, aged respectively twenty and twenty-two, whom he hadbrought with him over the sea.
Malcom was the name of the eldest, the other he called Hugh.
They had arrived in Philadelphia only the day before, and were putting upat the Continental.
"That will not do at all, Cousin Ronald," Elsie said when told this. "Youmust all come immediately to us, and make our house your home as long asyou stay."
Mr. Travilla seconded her invitation, and after some urging, it wasaccepted.
It proved an agreeable arrangement for all concerned. "Cousin Ronald" wasthe same genial companion that he had been eight years before, and the twolads were worthy of their sire, intelligent and well-informed, frank,simple hearted and true.
The young people made acquaintance very rapidly. The Exposition was atheme of great and common interest, discussed at every meal, and on thedays when they stayed at home to rest; for all found it necessary to do sooccasionally, while some of the ladies and little ones could scarcelyendure the fatigue of attending two days in succession.
Then through the months of July and August, they made excursions tovarious points of interest, spending usually several days at each;sometimes a week or two.
In this way they visited Niagara Falls, Lakes Ontario, George andChamplain, the White Mountains, and different seaside resorts.
At one of these last, they met Lester Leland again. The Travillas had notseen him for nearly a year, but had heard of his welfare through theLelands of Fairview.
All seemed pleased to renew the old familiar intercourse; an easy matter,as they were staying at the same hotel.
Lester was introduced to the Scotch cousins, as an old friend of thefamily.
Mr. Lilburn and he exchanged a hearty greeting and chatted together veryamicably, but Malcom and Hugh were only distantly polite to the newcomerand eyed him askance, jealous of the favor shown him by their young ladycousins, whose sweet society they would have been glad to monopolize.
But this they soon found was impossible even could they have banishedLeland; for Herbert Carrington, Philip Ross, Dick Percival and hisfriends, and several others soon appeared upon the scene.
Elsie was now an acknowledged young lady; Violet in her own estimation andthat of her parents', still a mere child; but her height, her gracefulcarriage and unaffected ease of manner--which last was the combined resultof native refinement and constant association with the highly polished andeducated, united to childlike simplicity of character and utter absence ofself-consciousness--often led strangers into the mistake of supposing herseveral years older than she really was.
Her beauty, too, and her genius for music and painting added to herattractiveness, so that altogether, the gentlemen were quite as ready topay court to her as to her sister, and had she been disposed to receivetheir attentions, or to push herself forward in the least, her parentswould have found it difficult to prevent her entering society earlier thanwas for her good.
But like her mother before her, Vi was in no haste to assume the dutiesand responsibilities of womanhood. Only fifteen she was
"Standing with reluctant feet Where the brook and river meet, Womanhood and childhood fleet."
Hugh Lilburn and Herbert Carrington both regarded her with covetous eyes,and both asked permission of her father to pay their addresses, butreceived the same answer;--that she was too young yet to be approached onthat subject.
"Well, Mr. Travilla, if you say that to every one, as no doubt you do, I'mwilling to wait," said Herbert going off tolerably contented.
But Hugh, reddening with the sudden recollection that Violet was anheiress, and his portion a very moderate one, stammered out somethingabout hoping he was not mistaken for a fortune hunter, and that he wouldmake no effort to win her until he was in circumstances to do so withpropriety.
"My dear fellow," said Mr. Travilla, "do not for a moment imagine that hasanything to do with my refusal. I do not care to find rich husbands for mydaughters, and were Violet of proper age, should have but one objection toyou as a suitor; that you would be likely to carry her far away from us."
"No, no, sir, I wouldn't!" exclaimed the lad warmly. "I like America, andthink I shall settle here. And sir, I thank you most heartily for yourkind words. But, as I've said, I won't ask again till I can do so withpropriety."
Leland, too, admired Violet extremely, and loved her with brotherlyaffection; but it was Elsie who had won his heart.
But he had never whispered a word of this to her, or to any humancreature, for he was both poor and proud, and had firmly resolved not toseek her hand until his art should bring him fame and fortune to lay ather feet.
Similar considerations alone held Malcom Lilburn back, and each wastortured with the fear that the other would prove a successful rival.
Philip Ross, too, was waiting to grow rich, but feared no rival in themeantime; so satisfied was he that no one could be so attractive to Elsieas himself.
"She's waiting for me," he said to his mother, "and she will wait. She'sjust friendly and kind to those other fellows, but it's plain she doesn'tcare a pin for any of them."
"I'm not so sure of that, Phil," returned Mrs. Ross; "some one may cut youout. Have you spoken to her yet? Is there a regular engagement betweenyou?"
"Oh, no! but we understand each other; always have since we were merebabies."
Mrs. Ross and her daughters had accompanied Philip to the shore, and itpleased Lucy greatly that they had been able to obtain rooms in the samehouse with their old friends, the Travillas.
Mr. Hogg was of the party also, and Elsie and Violet had now anopportunity to judge of the happiness of Gertrude's married life.
They were not greatly impressed with it; husband and wife seemed to havefew interests in common, and to be rather bored with each other'ssociety.
Mr. Hogg had a fine equipage, and drove out a great deal, sometimes withhis wife, sometimes without; both dressed handsomely and spent moneylavishly; but he did not look happy, and Gertrude, when off her guard,wore a discontented, care-worn expression.
Mrs. Ross was full of cares and anxieties, and one day she unburdened herheart to her childhood's friend.
They were sitting alone together on the veranda upon which Mrs. Travilla'sroom opened, waiting for the summons to the tea-table.
"I have no peace of my life, Elsie," Lucy said fretfully; "one can't helpsympathizing with one's children, and my girls don't seem happy likeyours.
"Kate's lively and pleasant enough in company, but at home she's dull andspiritless; and though Gertrude has made what is considered an excellentmatch, she doesn't seem to enjoy life; she's easily fretted, and wantschange and excitement all the time."
"Perhaps matters may improve with her," Elsie said, longing to comfortLucy. "Some couples have to learn to accommodate themselves to eachother."
"Well, I hope it may be so," Lucy responded, sighing as though the hopewere faint indeed.
"And Kate may grow happier, too; dear Lucy, if you could only lead her toChrist, I am sure she would," Elsie went on low and tenderly.
Mrs. Ross shook her head, tears trembling in her eyes.
"How can I? I have not found him myself yet. Ah, Elsie, I wish I'd begunas you did. You have some comfort in your children; I've none in mine.
"That is," she added, hastily correcting herself, "not as much as I oughtto have, except in Phil; he's doing well; yet even he's not half sothoughtful and affectionate toward his father and mother as your boys are.But then of course he's of a different disposition."
"Your younger boys seem fine lads," Elsie said; "and Sophie has a winningway."
Lucy looked pleased, then sighed, "They _are_ nice children, but sowilful; and the boys so venturesome. I've no peace when they are out of mysight, lest they should be in some danger."