They were just in time to sit down with the others.
Elsie quickly perceived by her Aunt Lora's look and manner, that she, too, had heard the news, but no remark was make on the subject till the ladies had retired to the drawing-room, leaving the gentlemen to the enjoyment of their after-dinner cigars.
Then Mrs. Howard, facing round upon her niece as they entered the room, exclaimed, "Elsie, you naughty child! are you not ashamed of yourself?"
"On account of what, auntie?"
"Such unconscious innocence!" cried Lora, throwing up the white and jeweled hands she had rested lightly for an instant upon the young girl's shoulder, while gazing steadily into the smiling, blushing, sparkling face. "You haven't been planning and promising to give Adelaide and me a nephew older than ourselves? I tell you, miss, I refuse my consent. Why, it's absurd! the very idea! I used to think him almost an elderly gentleman when you were a chit of eight or nine."
"I remember having had some such idea myself; but he must have been growing young since then," returned Elsie, demurely.
"He seems to have been standing still (waiting for you, I suppose); but I never was more astonished in my life!" said Lora, dropping into a chair.
"It has been a genuine surprise to us all," remarked Rose.
"To me as much as anyone, mamma," said Elsie. "I—had thought he was engaged to you, Aunt Adie."
"To me, child!"
"Why, my dear, I surely told you about her engagement to my brother Edward?" exclaimed Adelaide and Rose simultaneously.
"You tried, mamma, and it was all my own fault that I did not hear the whole truth. And, Aunt Adie, I cannot understand how he could ever fancy me, while he might have hoped there was a possibility of winning you."
"'Twould have been a much more suitable match," said Lora. "Though I'd have preferred the one in contemplation, except that in the other case, she would not be carried quite away from us. But suppose we proceed to business. We should have a double wedding, I think."
"Oh, don't talk of it yet," said Rose, with a slight tremble in her voice, and looking at Elsie's flushed, conscious face with eyes full of unshed tears. "Adelaide's is to be within the next two months, and—we cannot give up Elsie so suddenly."
"Of course not," said Adelaide; "and I should have serious objections to being used as a foil to Elsie's youth and beauty."
The Howards and Mr. Travilla stayed to tea, and shortly before that meal the party was increased by the arrival of Walter Dinsmore and Mrs. Dick Percival.
Enna had lost flesh and color; and long indulgence of a fretful, peevish temper had drawn down the corners of her mouth, lined her forehead, and left its ugly pencilings here and there over the once pretty face, so that it already began to look old and care-worn. She was very gayly dressed, in the height of the fashion, and rather overloaded with jewelry; but powder and rouge could not altogether conceal the ravages of discontent and passion. She was conscious of the fact, and inwardly dwelt with mortification and chagrin upon the contrast presented by her own faded face to that of Elsie, so fair and blooming, so almost childish in its sweet purity and innocence of expression.
"So you are single yet," Enna said, with a covert sneer; "and not likely to marry either, so far as I've been able to learn. They'll soon begin to call you an old maid."
"Will they?" said Mr. Dinsmore, with a laugh in which all present joined, Enna herself excepted; "well, if she is a fair specimen of that much-abused class, they are far more attractive than is generally supposed."
"You needn't laugh," said Enna; "I was four years younger than she is now, when I married. I wasn't going to wait till they began to call me an old maid."
"To bear that reproach is not the worst calamity that can befall a woman," replied Mr. Dinsmore gravely; then changed the subject by a kind inquiry in regard to Arthur.
"Slowly and steadily improving," answered Walter. "The doctors are now satisfied that he is not permanently crippled, though he still uses a crutch."
Chapter Second
"Mutual love, the crown of all our bliss."
—MILTON'S PARADISE LOST.
After a half hour of waiting for her son's return, Mrs. Travilla sat down to her lonely cup of tea. There was no lack of delicacies on the table, and in all Edward's taste had been consulted. To make him comfortable and happy was, next to serving her God, the great aim and object of his mother's life; and, in a less degree, of that of every servant in the house. They had all been born and brought up at Ion, and had all these years known him as the kindest, most reasonable and considerate of masters.
"Wish Massa Edard come. Dese waffles jes' prime to-night, an' he so fond ob dem," remarked a pretty mulatto girl, handing a plate of them to her mistress.
"Yes, Prilla, he expected to be at home, but is probably taking tea at the Oaks or Roselands." And the old lady supped her tea and ate her waffles with a serene, happy face, now and then lighted up by a pleased smile which her attendant handmaiden was at a loss to interpret.
Having finished her meal, Mrs. Travilla threw a shawl about her shoulders and stepped out upon the veranda; then, tempted by the beauty of the night, walked down the avenue to meet her son or see if there were any signs of his approach.
She had not gone half the distance ere the sound of horses' hoofs reached her ear—distant at first but coming rapidly nearer, till a lady and gentleman drew rein at the gate, while the servant who had been riding in the rear dismounted and threw it open.
They came dashing up, but paused and drew rein again at sight of the old lady standing there under the trees.
"Mother," cried her son, springing from the saddle, "you were not alarmed? anxious? surely."
"No, no, Edward, but glad to see you and Elsie! my dear child, this is very kind."
"Not at all, dear Mrs. Travilla; it is so lovely an evening for a ride; or walk either," she added, giving her hand to her escort and springing lightly to the ground.
Mr. Travilla put the hand into that of his mother. "Take her to your heart, mother; she is mine—ours!" he said, in low tones tremulous with joy.
The old lady folded the slight girlish form to her breast for a moment, with a silence more eloquent than words.
"Thank God! thank God!" she murmured at length. "He has given me my heart's desire;" and mingled caresses and tears fell upon Elsie's face. "For many years I have loved you as my own child, and now I am to have you. How bright our home will be, Edward. But we are darkening another. Her father; can he—has he——"
"He has given her to me," answered the son quickly, "and she has—we have given ourselves to each other. Let me give an arm to each of you and we will go into the house."
The veranda at the Oaks was deserted, and the house very quiet, though lights still shone here and there, as Mr. Travilla and Elsie rode up and dismounted on their return from Ion.
A servant rose from the grass, where he had been lying at his ease; came forward and led away his young mistress's pony, while the lover bade her a tender good-night, sprang into the saddle again, and presently disappeared, lost to view amid the trees and the windings of the road, though the sound of horse's hoofs still came faintly to Elsie's ear as she stood intently listening, a sweet smile irradiating every feature.
Absorbed in her own thoughts, and in the effort to catch those fast-retreating sounds, she did not hear a step approaching from behind; but an arm encircled her waist, and a low-breathed "My darling" woke her from her reverie.
She looked up, her eyes beaming with affection; "Papa; I am rather late,