Elsies Motherhood | Page 4

ones, each of
whom held a large place in her warm heart. "Aunt Addie," said Elsie in
an undertone, "mamma's going to wear her wedding dress to-night, veil
and all."
"Is she? why that's an excellent idea. But don't tell it anywhere else that
you go; it will be such a nice surprise to the rest if we can keep it a
secret."
"That was a good suggestion of Aunt Addie's," Mr. Travilla remarked
as they drove down the avenue. "Suppose we carry it out. How many of
you can refrain from telling what mamma is to wear to-night? how
many can I trust to keep a secret?"
"All of us, papa!" "Me, papa, me, I won't tell," cried the little voices in
chorus.
"Yes, I believe I can trust you all," he answered in his bright cheery
way. "Now on to the Oaks, Solon, then to Pinegrove, Springbrook, and
Ashlands. That will be the last place, children, and as our hurry will
then be over, you shall get out of the carriage and have a little time to
rest before we start for home."
Re-entering the house Mrs. Allison went to the family sitting-room
where she found both her sisters and several of the younger members of
the household. "So they have asked for us?" exclaimed Louise in a tone
of vexation, "at such an unreasonable hour too. Well," with a sigh of
resignation, "I suppose we must show ourselves or papa will be
displeased: so wonderfully fond of Elsie as he has grown of late."
"As well he may," returned Adelaide pointedly; "but Elsie is not here
nor has any one inquired for you."

"No, I presume not," interrupted Enna with a sneer, "we are not worth
inquiring for."
Indignation kept Adelaide silent for a moment, she was sorely tempted
to administer a severe and cutting rebuke. But Enna was no longer a
child, and controlling herself she calmly delivered Mr. Travilla's
message.
"Oh, delightful! Cousin Elsie always does give such splendid parties,
such elegant refreshments!" cried Virginia and Isadore Conly, girls of
ten and twelve, "mamma, you'll never think of declining?"
"No, your grandfather wouldn't like it," said Louise, as anxious as her
daughters to enjoy the entertainment, yet glad to save her pride, by
putting her acceptance on the score of pleasing her father.
"And you'll go too, and take us, mamma, won't you?" anxiously queried
Molly Percival, who was between her cousins in age.
"Of course I'll go; we all want our share of the good things, and the
pleasure of seeing and being seen," answered Enna, scorning Louise's
subterfuge; "and if you and Dick will promise to make me no trouble,
I'll take you along. But Bob and Betty may stay at home, I'm not going
to be bothered with them,--babies of five and three. But what shall we
wear, Lu? I do say it's real mean in them to give us so short a notice.
But of course Elsie enjoys making me feel my changed circumstances.
I've no such stock of jewels, silks and laces as she, nor the full purse
that makes it an easy matter for her to order a fresh supply at a
moment's warning."
"You have all, and more than the occasion calls for," remarked
Adelaide quietly; "it is to be only a family gathering."

Chapter Second.
"Though fools spurn Hymen's gentle powers, We, who improve his

golden hours, By sweet experience know That marriage, rightly
understood, Gives to the tender and the good A paradise below."
--Cotton
Mr. Allison had fully kept his promise to Sophie, and Ashlands was
again the fine old place it had been prior to the war. The family,
consisting of the elder Mrs. Carrington, a young man, named George
Boyd, a nephew of hers who had taken charge of the plantation, Sophie
and her four children, had now been in possession for over a year.
Sophie, still an almost inconsolable mourner for the husband of her
youth, lived a very retired life, devoting herself to his mother and his
orphaned little ones.
Mrs. Ross, expecting to spend the fall and winter with them, had
brought all her children and a governess, Miss Fisk, who undertook the
tuition of the little Carringtons also during her stay at Ashlands, thus
leaving the mothers more at liberty for the enjoyment of each other's
society.
It was in the midst of school-hours that the Ion carriage came driving
up the avenue, and Philip Ross, lifting his head from the slate over
which he had been bending for the last half hour, rose hastily, threw
down his pencil and hurried from the room, paying no attention to Miss
Fisk's query, "Where are you going, Philip?" or her command, "Come
back instantly: it is quite contrary to rules for pupils