Elsie at Nantucket Part 31

"But you can choose for yourself, Grandma Elsie, and I wish I could."

"That is one of the privileges of older years," Elsie answered pleasantly. "I was considerably older than you are before I was allowed to select my own attire. But I repeat that I shall not raise the slightest objection to your wearing anything your father is willing to see on you."

Lulu's hopes were almost gone, but she would make one more effort.

She went to her father, and putting her arms round his neck, begged in her most coaxing tones for the gratification of her wish.

"What did your Grandma Elsie say?" he asked.

Lulu faithfully, though with no little reluctance, repeated every word Elsie had said to her on the subject.

"I entirely agree with her," said the captain; "so entirely that even had she found no objection to urge against it, I should have forbidden you to wear the dress."

Lulu heard him with a clouded brow; in fact, the expression of her face was decidedly sullen. Her father observed it with sorrow and concern.

"Sit down here till I am ready to talk to you," he said, indicating a chair close at his side.

Lulu obeyed, sitting quietly there while he finished his paper. Throwing it aside at length, he took her hand and drew her in between his knees, putting an arm about her waist.

"My little daughter," he said, in his usual kind tone, "I am afraid you care too much for dress and finery. What I desire for you is that you may 'be clothed with humility,' and have 'the ornament of a meek and quiet spirit, which is, in the sight of G.o.d, of great price.'"

"I never can have that, papa, for it isn't a bit like me," she said, with a sort of despairing impatience and disgust at herself.

"No, that is too true; it is not like you as you are by nature--the evil nature inherited from me; but G.o.d is able to change that, to give you a clean heart and renew within you a right spirit. Jesus is a Saviour from sin (He saves none in their sins), and He is able to save to the uttermost, able to take away the very last remains of the old corrupt nature with which we were born.

"Oh, my child, seek His help to fight against it and to overcome! It grieves me more than I can express to see you again showing an unlovely, wilful temper."

"Oh, papa, don't be grieved," she said, throwing her arms round his neck and pressing her lips to his cheek. "I will be good and wear whatever I'm told; look pleasant about it too, for indeed I do love you too well to want to grieve you and spoil your pleasure."

"Ah, that is my own dear little girl," he answered, returning her caresses.

The sullen expression had vanished from her face and it wore its brightest look, yet it clouded again the next moment, but with sorrow, not anger, as she sighed, "Oh! if you were always with us, papa, I think I might grow good at last; but I need your help so much, and you are gone more than half the time."

"Your heavenly Father is never gone, daughter, and will never turn a deaf ear to a cry for strength to resist temptation to sin. He says, 'In me is thine help.'

"And we are told, 'G.o.d is faithful, who will not suffer you to be tempted above that ye are able; but will with the temptation also make a way to escape, that ye may be able to bear it.'"

In the mean time Mrs. Dinsmore, who from choice took most of the housekeeping cares, was ordering an early dinner and various baskets of provisions for the picnic.

As the family sat down to the table, these last were being conveyed on board a yacht lying at the little pier near the bathing-place below the cliffs; and almost immediately upon finis.h.i.+ng their meal, all, old and young, trooped down the stairways, across the sandy beach, and were themselves soon aboard the vessel.

Others of the company were already seated in it, and the rest following a few minutes later, and the last basket of provisions being safely stowed away in some safe corner of the craft, they set sail, dragging at their stern a dory in which was a large quant.i.ty of clams in the sh.e.l.l.

It was a bright day, and a favorable breeze sent the yacht skimming over the water at an exhilarating rate of speed. All hearts seemed light, every face was bright, not excepting Lulu's, though she was attired in the plain colored dress recommended by Grandma Elsie.

There was no greater display of finery than a knot of bright ribbon, on the part of even the gayest young girl present. Betty wore a black bunting--one of her school dresses--with a cardinal ribbon at the throat; Zoe the brown woollen that had for her such mingled a.s.sociations of pain and pleasure, and looked wonderfully sweet and pretty in it, Edward thought.

They sat side by side, and Betty, watching them furtively, said to herself, "They are for all the world just like a pair of lovers yet, though they have been married over a year."

Then turning her attention first to Violet and Captain Raymond, then upon her Aunt and Uncle Dinsmore, she came to the same conclusion in regard to them also.

"And it was just so with cousin Elsie and her husband," she mused. "I can remember how devoted they were to each other. But she seems very happy now, and she well may be, with father, sons and daughters all so devoted to her. And she's so rich too; never has to consider how to make one dollar do the work of two; a problem I am so often called upon to solve. In fact, it is to her and uncle, Bob and I owe our education, and pretty much everything we have.

"I don't envy her her money, but I do the love that has surrounded her all her life. She never knew her own mother, to be sure, but her father petted and fondled her as a child, and was father and mother both to her, I've often heard her say; while mine died before I was born, and mother lost her reason when I was a little thing."

But Betty was not much given to melancholy musing, or indeed to musing of any kind; a pa.s.sing sail presently attracted her attention and turned her thoughts into a new channel.

And soon, the wind and tide being favorable, the yacht drew near her destination.

There was no wharf, but the pa.s.sengers were taken to the sh.o.r.e, a few at a time, in the dory. It also landed provision baskets and the clams.

Those ladies and gentlemen to whom clam-bakes were a new experience watched with interest the process of cooking the bivalves.

A pit of suitable size for the quant.i.ty to be prepared was made in the sand, the bottom covered with stones; it was then heated by a fire kindled in it, the brands were removed, seaweed spread over the stones, the clams poured in, abundance of seaweed piled over and about them, a piece of an old sail put over that, and they were left to bake or steam, while another fire was kindled near by, and a large tin bucket, filled with water, set on it to boil for making coffee.

While some busied themselves with these culinary operations, others repaired to the dwelling, which stood some little distance back from the beach, the ground sloping gently away from it to the water's edge.

The lady of the house met them at the door, and hospitably invited them to come in and rest themselves in her parlor, or sit on the porch; and understanding their errand to the locality, not only gave ready permission for their table to be spread in the shade of her house, but offered to lend anything they might require in the way of utensils.

Accepting her offer, they set to work, the men making a rough sort of impromptu table with some boards, and the ladies spreading upon it the contents of the provision baskets.

Mrs. Dinsmore, Elsie and the younger ladies of their party, offered to a.s.sist in these labors, but were told that they were considered guests, and must be content to look on or wander about and amuse themselves.

There was not much to be seen but gra.s.sy slopes dest.i.tute of tree or shrub, and the harbor and open sea beyond.

They seated themselves upon the porch of the dwelling-house, while Captain Raymond and the younger members of their family party wandered here and there about the place.

There seemed to be some sport going on among the cooks--those engaged in preparing the coffee.

Lulu hurried toward them to see what it was about, then came running back to her father, who stood a little farther up the slope, with Grace clinging to his hand.

"Oh!" she said with a face of disgust, "I don't mean to drink any of that coffee; why, would you believe it, they stirred it with a poker?"

"Did they?" laughed the captain; "they might have done worse. I presume that was used for lack of a long enough spoon. We must not be too particular on such occasions as this."

"But you won't drink any of it, will you, papa?"

"I think it altogether likely I shall."

"Why, papa! coffee that was stirred with a dirty poker?"

"We will suppose the poker was not very dirty," he said, with a good-humored smile; "probably there was nothing worse on it than a little ashes, which, diffused through so large a quant.i.ty of liquid, could harm no one."

"Must I drink it if they offer me a cup?"

"No; there need be no compulsion about it; indeed, I think it better for a child of your age not to take coffee at all."

"But you never said I shouldn't, papa."