"What is it, Horace?" asked Rose anxiously, as they neared each other; for she saw that his face was pale and troubled.
"I bring you strange tidings, my Rose," he answered low and sadly, as she laid her hand upon his arm with an affectionate look up into his face.
Hers grew pale. "Bad news from home?" she almost gasped.
"No, no; I've had no word from our absent relatives or friends, and I'm not sure I ought to call it bad news either; though I cannot yet think of it with equanimity, it has come upon me so suddenly."
"What?" asked both ladies in a breath; "don't keep us in suspense."
"It has been going on for years—on his part—I can see it now—but, blind fool that I was, I never suspected it till to-day, when it came upon me like a thunderbolt."
"What? who?"
"Travilla; after years of patient waiting he has won her at last—our darling—and—and I've given her to him."
Both ladies stood dumb with astonishment, while young Horace, who had come running up in time to catch the last words, cried out with vehemence, "Papa! what! give our Elsie away? how could you? how can we ever do without her? But she shan't go, for she belongs to me too, and I'll never give consent!"
Mr. Dinsmore and the ladies smiled faintly.
"They seemed to think mine quite sufficient, Horace," replied his father, "and I'm afraid will hardly consider it necessary to ask yours."
"But, papa, we can't spare her—you know we can't—and why should you go and give her away to Mr. Travilla or anybody?"
"My son, had I refused, it would have caused her great unhappiness."
"Then she ought to be ashamed to go and love Mr. Travilla better than you and all of us."
"I was never more astonished in my life!" cried Adelaide.
"Nor I," said Rose. "And he's a great deal too old for her."
"That is an objection," replied her husband, "but if not insuperable to her, need not be to us."
"Think of your intimate friend addressing you as father!" laughed Adelaide; "it's really too ridiculous."
"That need not be—is not an inevitable consequence of the match," smiled Mr. Dinsmore, softly caressing the little one clinging about his neck.
Still conversing on the same subject, the minds of all being full of it to the exclusion of every other, they moved on as if by common consent towards the house.
"Do you think it can be possible that she is really and truly in love with him?" queried Rose; "a man so much older than herself, and so intimate in the family since her early childhood."
"Judge for yourself, my dear," said Mr. Dinsmore, as a turn in the path brought them within a few yards of the lovers, who were moving slowly in their direction so that the two parties must meet in another moment.
One glance at the beaming faces, the rich color coming and going in Elsie's cheek, the soft, glad light in her sweet brown eyes, was a sufficient reply to Rose's question. She looked at her husband with a satisfied smile, which he returned.
But little Horace, leaving his father's side, rushed up to Elsie, and catching her hand in his, cried, "I'll never give my consent! and you belong to me. Mr. Travilla, you can't have her."
To the child's surprise Elsie only blushed and smiled, while Mr. Travilla, without the slightest appearance of alarm or vexation, said, "Ah, my dear boy, you may just as well; for she is willing to be mine and your papa has given her to me."
But the others had come up, and inquiring looks, smiles and kindly greetings were exchanged.
"Mr. Travilla," said Rose, half playfully but with a tear trembling in her eye, "you have stolen a march upon us, and I can hardly forgive you just yet."
"I regret that exceedingly, my dear madam," he answered, with a smile that belied his words. "But Miss Adelaide, you will still stand my friend?"
"I don't know," she answered demurely; "there's only one serious objection in my mind (if Elsie is satisfied); that I don't quite fancy having a nephew some years older than myself."
"Ah! well, I shall be quite willing to be considered a brother-in-law."
"Company to dinner!" shouted Horace. "I see a carriage; don't you, papa?"
"It is your Uncle Edward's," said Mr. Travilla.
"Yes," said Adelaide, "Lora and her tribe are in it, no doubt; and probably Mrs. Bowles too (Carrie Howard you know, Elsie). They have been late in calling."
"Some good reason for it, and they are none the less welcome," remarked Rose, quickening her pace.
The one party reached the house just as the other two had fairly alighted, and a scene of joyous greeting ensued.
"You dear child! how good of you to come back to us again, and single too," exclaimed Mrs. Bowles, clasping Elsie in a warm embrace; "I'd almost given it up, and expected by every mail to hear you had become Lady or Countess this, or Duchess that."
Elsie smiled and blushed, and meeting the eye of her betrothed fixed for an instant upon her with an expression of unutterable content, thankfulness, love and pride, smiled and blushed again.
Carrie caught the look and its effect upon her friend, and almost breathless with astonishment, took the first opportunity, after all were seated in the drawing-room, to prefer a whispered request to be taken to Elsie's own private apartment for a moment, to see that her hair and dress were in proper order.
They had come to spend the day, and bonnets and shawls had already been carried away by the servants in attendance.
"Now girls, don't run off for an interminable chat by yourselves," said Mrs. Howard, as the two rose and crossed the room together.
"No, Aunt Lora, we'll not stay long," said Elsie; "for I want to improve every moment of your visit, in renewing my acquaintance with you and my young cousins."
"Your family has grown, Lora," remarked her brother.
"Yes, rather faster than yours," she said, looking round with pride upon her little group of four boys, and a girl yet in her nurse's arms. "Go and speak to your uncle, Ned, Walter, Horace, and Arthur. You see I have given you a namesake; and this little pet we call Rose Louise, for her two aunties. Yours is Rose, too! and what a darling! and how little Horace has grown!"
"Elsie, it can't be possible!" cried Carrie, the instant they found themselves alone.
"What can't?" and Elsie's blush and smile were charming.
"That you and Mr. Travilla are lovers! I saw it in your faces; but, 'tis too absurd! Why, he's your father's friend, and nearly as old."
"All the wiser and better for that, Carrie, dear. But he is young in heart, and far from looking old, I think. I have grown so sick of your silly, brainless fops, who expect women neither to talk sense nor understand it."
"Ah, I dare say! and Mr. Travilla is the most sensible and polished of men—always excepting my own spouse, of course. And you won't be taken away from us; so I give my consent."
Elsie's only answer was a mirthful, amused look.
"Oh, but I am glad to see you back!" Carrie ran on. "It seems an age since you went away."
"Thank you. And your husband? what is he like?"
"I was never good at description, but he is a fine specimen of a Kentucky planter, and very fond of his wife. By the way, you must blame me that Edward and Lora were so late in welcoming you home. I arrived only yesterday morning, quite fatigued with my journey, and begged them to wait till to-day, and bring me with them."
"That was right. We have not seen Enna yet, or Arthur. Grandpa and Mrs. Dinsmore and Walter called yesterday.