Elsies Motherhood | Page 3

an instant to gaze fondly into the fair face. "And it is
ten years to-day since I gave Travilla a share in my treasure. I was
thinking of it as I rode over and that you should celebrate this
anniversary at your father's house."
"No, no, Dinsmore, you must be our guest," said Travilla, coming out
and shaking hands cordially with his old friend. "We have it all
arranged,--a family gathering, and Elsie to gratify us by wearing her
bridal robes. Do you not agree with me that she would make as lovely a
bride to-day as she did ten years ago?"
"Quite. I relinquish my plan for yours; and don't let me detain you and
these eager children."
"I thank you: I will go then, as the invitations will be late enough with
all the haste we can make."
The carriage was at the door and in a trice grandpa and papa had helped

the little ones in: not even Baby Herbert was left behind, but seated on
his mammy's lap crowed and laughed as merrily as the rest.
"Ah, mamma, you come too!" pleaded the little voices, as their father
took his place beside them. "Can't mammy and Aunt Dicey and the rest
know what to do without you to tell them?"
"Not this time, dears; and you know I must make haste to try on the
dress, to see if it fits."
"Oh, yes, mamma!" and throwing a shower of kisses, they drove off.
"A carriage load of precious jewels," Elsie said, looking after it as it
rolled away: "how the ten years have added to my wealth, papa."
She stood by his side, her hand on his arm, and the soft sweet eyes
lifted to his were full of a content and gladness beyond the power of
words to express.
"I thank God every day for my darling's happiness," he said low and
tenderly, and softly smoothing her shining hair.
"Ah, it is very great, and my father's dear love forms no small part of it.
But come in, papa, I want to consult you about one or two little matters;
Edward and I rely very much upon your taste and judgment."
"To Roselands first," was Mr. Travilla's order to the coachman.
The old home of the Dinsmores, though shorn of the glory of its grand
old trees, was again a beautiful place: the new house was in every
respect a finer one than its predecessor, of a higher style of architecture,
more conveniently arranged, more tastefully and handsomely furnished;
lawns, gardens and fields had become neat and trim as in the days
before the war, and a double row of young, thrifty trees bordered the
avenue.
Old Mr. Dinsmore now resided there and gave a home to his two
widowed and impoverished daughters--Mrs. Louise Conly, and Mrs.

Enna Johnson--and their families.
These two aunts loved Elsie no better than in earlier years: it was gall
and wormwood to them to know that they owed all these comforts to
her generosity; nor could they forgive her that she was more wealthy,
beautiful, lovely and beloved than themselves. Enna was the more
bitter and outspoken of the two, but even Louise seldom treated her
niece to anything better than the most distant and frigid politeness.
In a truly Christian spirit Elsie returned them pity and compassion,
because of their widowhood and straitened circumstances, invited them
to her house, and when they came received them with kindness and
cordiality.
Her grandfather had grown very fond of her and her children, was often
at Ion, and for his sake she occasionally visited Roselands. Adelaide's
presence had drawn her there more frequently of late. The invitation Mr.
Travilla carried was to the grandfather, three aunts and all their
children.
Adelaide and Enna were in the drawing-room when the Ion carriage
drew up at the door.
"There's Travilla, the old scalawag: how I hate him! Elsie too, I
presume," exclaimed the latter, glancing from the window; "I'll leave
you to entertain them," and she hastily left the room.
Adelaide flashed an indignant look after her, and hurried out to meet
and welcome the callers. Mr. Travilla had alighted and was coming up
the steps of the veranda.
"How d'ye do. I'm very glad to see you," cried Adelaide, extending her
hand, "but where is Elsie?"
"Left at home for once," he answered gayly, "but I come this morning
merely as her ladyship's messenger."
"But won't you come in; you and the children?"

"Thanks, no, if you will permit me just to deliver my message and go;
for I am in haste."
Mrs. Allison accepted the invitation for herself and children with
evident pleasure, engaged that her sisters would do the same; then went
to the carriage window for a moment's chat with the little