Elsie's children Part 48

Elsie turned to him with both hands extended, a smile on her lips, a tear in her eye, "My dear father, how are you?"

"Quite well, daughter," he said, taking the hands and kissing the rich red lips, as beautiful and as sweet now, as in her childhood or youth, "but troubled and anxious about you. Are you determined to be quite obstinate in this thing?"

"No," she said, "I hope not; but what is it that you and my husband would have me do?"

"Take your regular rest at night," answered the one, the other adding, "And go out for a little air and exercise every day."

Arthur, coming in at that moment, from his morning visit to his patient, who lay in the next room, joined his entreaties to theirs, and upon his a.s.surance that Enna was improving, Elsie consented to do as they desired.

Still the greater part of her time was spent at Enna's bedside, and her family saw but little of her.

This was a trial to them all; but especially to the eldest, who was longing for "mamma's" dear society; she fully appreciated Molly's and Eddie's companions.h.i.+p, dearly loved that of her father, and esteemed Vi's as very sweet, but no one could fill her mother's place.

Probably not even to her would she have unburdened her heart, she could scarce bear to look into it herself, but the dear mother's very presence, though she might only sit in silence by her side, would be as balm to her troubled spirit.

She forced herself to be cheerful when with the others, and to take an interest in what interested them, but when left alone would drop her book or work and fall into a reverie, or wander out into the grounds, choosing the most quiet and secluded parts; often the shady banks of the lakelet, where she and Lester had pa.s.sed many an hour together in days gone by.

She had gone there one morning, leaving the others at home busied with their lessons. Seated on a rustic bench, her hands folded in her lap, her eyes on the ground and a book lying unheeded in the gra.s.s at her feet, she was startled by a sound as of some heavy body falling from a height and cras.h.i.+ng through the branches of a thick clump of trees on the other side of the lake.

She sprang up and stood looking and listening with a palpitating heart.

She could see that a large branch had broken from a tall tree, and lay upon the ground and--yes, something else lay beside or on it, half concealed from her view by the green leaves and twigs; and--did she hear a groan?

Perhaps it was only fancy, but it might be that some one was lying there in pain and needing a.s.sistance.

Instantly she flew toward the spot, her heart beating wildly; she drew near, started back and caught at a young sapling for support; yes, there lay a motionless form among the fallen branches, that of a man, a gentleman, as she discerned by what she could see of his clothing; her heart told her the rest.

Another moment and she was kneeling at his side, gazing with unutterable anguish into the still white face.

"He is dead, the fall has killed him." She had no hope of anything else at the moment; there seemed no possibility of life in that rigid form and death-like face; and she made no effort to give a.s.sistance or to call for it. She was like one turned to stone by the sudden crus.h.i.+ng blow. She loved and she had lost--that was all she knew.

But at length this stony grief gave place to a sharper anguish, a low cry burst from her lips, and hot scalding tears fell upon his face.

They brought him back to consciousness, and he heard her bitter sighs and moans; he knew she thought him dead and mourned as for one who was very dear.

He was in terrible pain, for he had fallen with his leg bent under him and it was badly broken; but a thrill of joy shot through his whole frame. For a moment more he was able to control himself and remain perfectly still, then his eyelids quivered, and a groan burst from him.

At the sound Elsie started to her feet, then bending over him, "You're hurt, Lester," she said, unconsciously addressing him for the first time by his Christian name; "what can I do for you?"

"Have me carried to Fairview," he said faintly; "my leg is broken and I cannot rise or help myself."

"Oh, what can I do," she cried, "how can I leave you alone in such pain?

Ah!" as steps were heard approaching, "here is grandpa coming up in search of me."

She ran to meet him and told him what had happened.

He seemed much concerned. "Solon is here with the carriage," he said. "I was going to ask your company for a drive, but we will have him take Leland to Fairview first. Strange what could have taken him into that tree!"

That broken limb kept Lester Leland on his back for six long weeks.

His aunt nursed him with the utmost kindness, but could not refrain from teasing him about his accident, asking what took him into the tree, and how he came to fall, till at last, in sheer desperation, he told her the whole story of his love, his hopelessness on account of his poverty, his determination not to go back to Ion to be thanked by Elsie and her parents for saving her life, his inability to go or stay far away from her; and finally owned that he had climbed the tree simply that he might be able to watch her, himself unseen.

"Well, I must say you are a sensible young man!" laughed Mrs. Leland; "but it was very unromantic to be so heavy as to break the limb and fall."

"True enough!" he said, half-laughing, half-sighing, while a deep flush suffused his face.

"Well, what are you going to do next?"

"Go off to--Italy, I suppose."

"What for?"

"To try to make fame and money to lay at her feet."

"That is all very well, but I think----"

"Well?"

"It just struck me that I was about to give unasked advice, which is seldom relished by the recipient."

"Please go on. I should like to have it whether I make use of it or not."

"Well, I think the honest, straightforward, and therefore best course, would be to seek an interview with the parents of the young lady, tell them frankly your feelings toward her, your hopes and purposes, and leave it with them to say whether you shall go without speaking to her."

"They will take me for a fortune-hunter, I fear," he said, the color mounting to his very hair.

"I think not; but at all events, I should risk it. I do not pretend to know Elsie's feelings, but if she cares for you at all, it would be treating her very badly indeed, to go away without letting her know yours; unless her parents forbid it.

"There, I've said my say, and will not mention the subject again till you do, but leave you to consider my advice at your leisure."

Lester did so during the next week, which was the last of the six of enforced quietude, and the more he pondered it, the more convinced was he of the soundness of his aunt's advice, and at length he fully resolved to follow it.

Mr. Travilla had called frequently at Fairview, since his accident, always inquiring for him, sometimes coming up to his room, at others merely leaving kind messages from himself, wife and family, or some dainty to tempt the appet.i.te of the invalid. Eddie had been there, too, on similar errands; but there was never a word from her whose lovely image was ever present to his imagination.

Enna was recovering; was now able to sit up and to walk about the room.

There was partial restoration of reason also. Elsie's prayer had been granted, and though still feeble in intellect, Enna had sense enough to comprehend the plan of salvation, and seemed to have entered into the kingdom as a little child. She was gentle, patient and submissive; very different, indeed, from the Enna of old. Elsie rejoiced over her with joy akin to that of the angels "over one sinner that repenteth."

Elsie's children were full of content and happiness in having mamma again at leisure to bestow upon them her wonted care and attention; her husband also, in that he was no longer deprived of the large share of her sweet society, which for weeks past had been bestowed upon Enna.

"Let us have a quiet walk together, little wife," he said to her one lovely summer evening, as she joined him in the veranda on coming down from seeing her little ones safe in their nest; "suppose we call on the Lelands. Lester, I hear, is talking of going North soon, and I believe contemplates a trip to Europe."

"And I have never seen him yet to thank him for saving our darling's life; and Enna's too. Yes; let us go."

Lester and his aunt were alone in the drawing-room at Fairview, when their visitors were announced.

There seemed a slight air of embarra.s.sment about the young man at the moment of their entrance; but it was quickly dispelled by the kindly warmth of their greeting.