Grandmother Elsie Part 3

"Yes; to-night."

"I shall see that my mother is at the depot in season;" and with that they took their departure, Mr. Dinsmore saying, as he bade them adieu, that he should ride over presently to see his father.

Turning toward Edward, he saw that the lad's eyes were following the Roselands' carriage down the avenue, his face wearing a rueful look.

"Grandpa," he said with a sigh, "I see no necessity for Aunt Louise's company, and, indeed, should very much prefer to be without it."

"You forget that you are speaking to your grandfather of his sister," Mr.

Dinsmore answered, with a touch of sternness in his tone.

"I beg your pardon, sir," returned Edward. "She is so unlike you that I am apt to forget the relations.h.i.+p."

"I know you do not always find your aunt's company agreeable," remarked Mr. Dinsmore, "and I do not blame you on that account, yet I think it will be an advantage to you, and especially to your sister, to have with you a woman of her age and knowledge of the world. I wish I could go with you myself, but I cannot think of leaving either my old father or your mother in this time of trial."

"No, sir, oh no! Delightful as it would be to both of us for you to make one of our little party, we would not for the world deprive dear mamma of the support and comfort of your presence here; nor our dear old grandfather either."

CHAPTER III.

"Filial ingrat.i.tude?

Is it not as this mouth should tear this hand For lifting food to 't?" --_Shaks. Lear_.

"This is a very sudden resolve of yours, mother, isn't it?" Dr. Conly asked, as they drove through the great gates at Ion, into the highway.

"It is, Arthur, for I had not dreamed of such a wild scheme on the part of those two silly children until I heard of it from their grandfather's lips; nor could have believed he would sanction such folly. They ought to make Elsie stay where she is, and if young Leland dies it will but rid the family of a prospective plebeian alliance."

"Very possibly of the sweet girl also," was Arthur's grave response.

"Nonsense! it is only in novels that girls die of broken hearts."

"Granting that for argument's sake, it must be very hard to live with one."

"Well; it seems she is to be allowed to go, and my offer removes the most serious objection; yet I have no idea that the sacrifice on my part will be at all appreciated."

"Then why make it, mother? I can readily find a subst.i.tute; there is Mrs.

Foster, whose health would be greatly benefited by a long sea voyage. She, I feel certain, would think it a great boon to be allowed this opportunity of going without expense and in the company of two young people of whom she is very fond. And you know, mother, that though poor now she was formerly wealthy, is a perfect lady, and her having been to Europe once or twice would make her all the more valuable companion to them."

"You are quite too late with your suggestion, Arthur," was the coldly spoken reply. "I have pa.s.sed my word and shall not break it."

Her son gave her a look of keen scrutiny, then turned his face from her with a scarcely audible sigh. He read her motives and feelings far more clearly than she suspected.

The truth was she was weary of the dulness of home now that the shadow of bereavement was upon it, and the etiquette of mourning forbade her attendance upon public a.s.semblages of whatever kind, except church, and did not allow even so much as a formal call upon strangers or acquaintance. The society of her now old, feeble, and depressed father was wearisome to her also.

Beside she had long had a hankering after a European tour, and this was too good an opportunity to let slip. Also it would give her a chance to see for herself what was the trouble with Virginia, whose letters of late had been of a very disquieting kind; full of reproaches and vague hints of unhappiness and disappointment in her new life.

There would probably be a few hours between their arrival in New York and the sailing of the steamer, in which she could call to see Virginia and learn with certainty exactly how she was situated.

Mrs. Travilla received the news of her aunt's offer with a grat.i.tude which it by no means merited, and the younger Elsie, though not fond of her Aunt Louise's society, felt that her presence might prove a comfort and support when she and Edward should find themselves strangers in a foreign land.

The mother sought this dear eldest child with loving words of cheer and counsel whenever she could be spared from the sick-room, and Violet, Harold, and Herbert hung about her as a treasure soon to be s.n.a.t.c.hed from them, each eager to render any a.s.sistance in his or her power.

The hour of parting came all too soon, and with many tears and embraces the young travellers were sent on their way.

The mother's last words to Elsie, as she held her close to her heart with many a tear and tender caress, were: "'Be strong and of a good courage, fear not, nor be afraid of them, for the Lord thy G.o.d, he it is that doth go with thee, he will not fail thee, nor forsake thee.' To him, the G.o.d of your fathers, do I trust you, my precious child."

"You also, my dear, dear boy!" taking Edward's hand: "but rejoice in the thought that you are together, mutual helpers and comforters."

"Be sure to telegraph us from New York, Edward, again as soon as possible after landing on the other side, and a third time when you have seen Lester and can report his exact condition," was Mr. Dinsmore's parting injunction, as with a most affectionate farewell he left them in the sleeping-car.

Mrs. Conly had joined them at the depot, according to promise.

All three retired at once to their berths, and Elsie wept herself to sleep, thinking of the dear ones left behind; especially the mother who had so tenderly cherished her from her birth and the sick little ones who, she feared, might not be there to welcome her return. Thinking too of him to whom she was going, his probable suffering, and the dread possibility that at her journey's end she should find only his grave.

They reached New York in good season, having met with no accident or detention. The steamer would not leave for some hours, but it was Elsie's desire to go directly on board.

"I think that will be your best plan," said Mrs. Conly. "You can then settle yourself in your state-room at once; and while Dinah unpacks what you will need on the voyage, you can lie in your berth and rest. You are looking greatly fatigued."

"You will come with us, Aunt Louise, will you not?" both the young people asked.

"No, I must see Virginia. I shall have time for an hour's chat with her and yet to reach the vessel some time before the hour fixed for her sailing. Edward, you will see that my luggage is taken on board?"

"Certainly, aunt; but shall we not first drive to Virginia's residence and leave you there? And I return for you after seeing my sister and the luggage on board the steamer?"

"No, not at all!" she answered stiffly. "I am obliged for your offer, but where would be the use? You may tell Ben to call a hack for me. I'll have it wait at Virginia's door and drive me to the wharf when I am ready to go."

Edward, thinking he had never known her so considerate and kind, hastened to carry out her wishes, bidding Ben engage two hacks--one for Mrs. Conly and another for themselves.

Consideration for her nephew and niece had nothing to do with Mrs. Conly's plans and arrangements. If, as she greatly feared, Virginia were living in other than aristocratic style, she would not for the world have it known among the relatives who had heard her boasts in regard to Virgie's grand match; "so much better than Isa had been led into while under the care of her grandfather and uncle."

She had never before heard of the street mentioned in Virginia's last letter, and her heart misgave her as to its being one of the most fas.h.i.+onable for the abodes of the wealthy. The curiously scrutinizing look and odd smile of the hack-driver when she gave him the address did not tend to rea.s.sure her.

"Drive me there as quickly as you can," she ordered, drawing herself up and flas.h.i.+ng an indignant glance at him. "I have no time to waste."

"Sure, mum, I'll do that same," he returned, touching his horses with the whip.

"Where are you taking me? What do you mean by bringing me into such a vile region as this?" she demanded presently, as the hack turned into a narrow and very dirty street.

"It's the shortest cut to the place ye said ye wanted to go till, mum," he answered shortly.

She sank back with a sigh and closed her eyes for a moment. She was very weary with her long journey and more depressed than she had ever been in her life before.

The drive seemed the longest and most unpleasant she had ever undertaken; she began to wish she had been content to sail for Europe without trying to find Virginia. But at last the vehicle stopped, the driver reached down from his seat and opened the door.

His pa.s.senger put out her head, glanced this way and that, scanned the house before her, and angrily demanded, "What are you stopping here for?"