Elsies Womanhood | Page 9

me, dear Mrs. Carrington," urged Elsie, the tears shining in her eyes.
"No, dear, not just yet. Lucy would prefer to see you quite alone at first, I know." And she glided away in the opposite direction.
A soft, cooing sound came to Elsie's ear, mingled with fondling words, in a negro voice, as she stood an instant waiting admittance. Lucy, a good deal paler and thinner than the Lucy of old, lay back in an easy chair, languidly turning the leaves of a new magazine.
"Open the door, mammy," she said, "I thought I heard a rap." Then at sight of Elsie, the magazine was hastily tossed aside, and with a cry of joy, "Oh, you darling! I thought I'd never see you again," she sprang forward, caught her friend in a close embrace, and wept upon her neck.
Elsie soothed her with caresses and words of endearment, and presently she calmed down, made her friend take a seat, and sinking back into her own, wiped away the tears still welling up in her eyes, and with a little hysterical laugh said, "Please don't look so concerned, or think I'm unhappy with my dear old Phil, or going to die, or any such nonsense: it's just my nerves; hateful, torturing things! I wish I'd never found out I had any."
"You poor dear, I'm so sorry for your lost health," said Elsie, exchanging her chair for a low ottoman at Lucy's feet, and taking the small thin hands in hers, stroking and patting them caressingly; "I know nerves won't be reasoned with, and that tears are often a great relief."
"And I've everything to make me happy," sobbed Lucy--"the best husband in the world, and the darlingest of babies, to say nothing of mamma and papa, and the rest, and really almost everything one could desire."
"Oh, the baby, yes!" cried Elsie, turning towards it with eager interest; "the sweet, pretty darling. May I take him a moment, Lucy?"
"Certainly, if he's not too heavy--bring him here, mammy. I remember your father would not allow you to lift or carry little Horace."
"Ah, but that was years ago! Ah, how lovely he is!" as the babe accepted her mute invitation to come to her. "You are rich indeed, with this treasure added to all your others. And you and your Phil don't quarrel yet?"
"No indeed! not the first cross word yet. Mamma calls us her turtle-doves: says we're always billing and cooing. Ah, Elsie, how beautiful you are! I've always thought you just as lovely as possible, yet there's an added something--I can't divine what--that increases even your peerless attractions."
"O Lucy, Lucy, still a flatterer!" laughed her friend.
"Yet you've come back to us single," Lucy went on, ignoring the interruption, "though we all know you had ever so many good offers. Pray, do you intend to remain single all your days?"
At that, Elsie's face dimpled all over with blushes and smiles.
Lucy signed to the nurse to take the babe, and as the woman walked away with it in her arms, turned eagerly to her friend.
"Now do tell me; for I'm sure you are not going to live single. Shall we have the pleasure of hailing you as duchess yet?"
"No, Lucy; I intend to marry; am actually engaged, but not to a foreigner."
"Dear me! I don't believe I could have resisted the title. That is," she added, hastily, "if I'd been heart-whole like you: but after seeing my Phil, of course I wouldn't give him up for all the nobles in Europe, Asia, and Africa. But do tell me who is the fortunate man?"
"Suppose you try your skill at guessing."
"Perfectly useless, never had any. It must be somebody I don't know."
"My good little woman, you know him well."
"Either of Harry's brothers-in-law? Richard? Harold?"
"No, no, no; you are wide of the mark! Could you suppose papa would ever consent to such a mixture of relationships? Why, it would make papa my brother and mamma's brother her son-in-law."
"So it would. Well, I give it up and beg of you to put a speedy end to my suspense."
Lucy bent her head to listen, and Elsie murmured the name low and softly, the rose deepening on her cheek as she spoke. For a moment Lucy seemed struck dumb with astonishment. Then, "Elsie!" she exclaimed, "I can't believe it; you are only jesting."
Elsie shook her head with a low, musical, happy laugh.
"He's splendid, I don't deny that; but then--only think--your father's most intimate friend from boyhood up; and almost as old."
"Some people seem like wine--to improve with age. But Mr. Travilla is not old to me now. He has been standing still, I believe, while I have grown up to him."
"And you really are in love with him?"
"He has all my heart, all the love I could give to any one, and I respect,