Elsie's Vacation and After Events Part 22

"What a comfort, papa!" she exclaimed. "Oh, the Bible is such a blessing! I do feel sorry for all the people who have none."

"Yes," he responded, "they are greatly to be pitied, and those who have dared to take it from others will have much to answer for in the day of judgment; as will those also who, having it themselves, make no effort to supply it to such as have it not.

"Ah, here we are at our own home!" he added, as the carriage drew up before the entrance.

"And such a sweet home as it is!" she responded, as he threw open the door, sprang out, and took her in his arms.

"Yes," he said, "so I think, and am glad my little girl appreciates it.

There," setting her on her feet, "run in, daughter, and make yourself ready for the tea-table."

She obeyed and presently they two were seated cozily at a little round table in the family breakfast-room, greatly enjoying their tea, broiled chicken, and waffles.

"Papa," remarked Lulu, as she poured out his second cup, "I'm sorry for you that you have only me for company, but I do enjoy being--once in a while--all the family you have at home."

"Do you?" he returned, with a good-humored little laugh. "Well, I am glad to have you contented and happy; and I can't deny that I should feel very lonely here to-night without the pleasant companionship of my dear eldest daughter. What do you want to do this evening? how shall we spend our time alone together?

"I have my lessons to learn, you know, papa."

"Ah, yes; and I must write some letters. And after that perhaps you may find a bit of sewing to do, while your father reads aloud something that will be both interesting and instructive to his dear little girl."

"Yes, sir; I have some work on hand for our Dorcas Society, and though I rather dislike sewing, I shall not mind doing it while listening to your reading," she answered, smiling brightly up into his face.

"Ah! then that is what we will do," he said, returning her smile.

"Well, daughter, has it been a pleasant evening to you?" he asked, when the time had come for the good-nights to be said.

"Indeed it has, papa," she replied, giving him an ardent hug. "Oh, I am so glad you didn't let me go to Ion with the others, but kept me at home with you. I do hope that I'll remember after this that you always know and do the very best thing for me, and that I'll never, never grow ill-tempered and rebellious, as I was yesterday."

"You think you can trust your father after this, even without being told his reasons for all he does and requires?"

"I hope so, papa, and indeed, indeed I'm very much ashamed of my rebellious feelings and don't intend to indulge in them any more!" she added, with a remorseful look up into his face.

"Try to keep that resolution, dear child," he said. "Now good-night and pleasant dreams. May he who neither slumbers nor sleeps have you in his kind care and keeping. But if you want your earthly father, you have only to call out or run to him."

CHAPTER XIV.

Lulu's first thought on awaking the next morning was of dear Grandma Elsie. "I wonder," she said to herself, "if papa has not been asking news of her through the telephone; oh, I hope she is getting well!"

Hurrying through the duties of the toilet, she was ready to run to meet her father when presently she heard his steps in the hall without.

"Good-morning, papa," she cried. "Oh, have you heard from Ion how Grandma Elsie pa.s.sed the night?"

"Yes," he said, bending down to give her a good-morning kiss, "she pa.s.sed a very comfortable night; is thought to be doing as well as possible. Mamma Vi and our little ones are all right also; I have just had a talk with your mamma, through the telephone."

"Oh, I am glad! How nice it is that we can talk in that way to the folks at Ion and the other places where Mamma Vi's relations live!"

"Yes; a telephone is really a blessing under such circ.u.mstances. I am much more reconciled to being at some short distance from my wife and little ones than I could be if without such means of communication."

They went down to the library together and seating himself he drew her to his knee, saying pleasantly, "You are the youngest child at home with me, and I think I must have you here. I hope you will never think yourself too old to sometimes sit on your father's knee."

"No, papa, I'm sure I never shall while you are willing to let me," she replied, putting an arm round his neck and gazing lovingly into his eyes.

They chatted for a few minutes, then the breakfast bell rang, and presently they were again seated at the little round table from which they had eaten last night's supper, Lulu pouring the coffee with a very grown-up air, while her father filled her plate and his own with the tempting viands.

"What a lovely, delightful home we have, papa!" she remarked, as she handed him his cup. "I do really think that with such a father and such a home I ought to be the best girl in the world; and I do mean to try to be."

"I have no doubt you do, daughter, and I have seldom had occasion to find serious fault with you in the last year or more, so that I am by no means in despair of seeing you gain control of that troublesome temper which has caused so much unhappiness to both you and me."

"Oh, thank you for saying it, papa!" she returned, with a bright and joyous smile. "I'm determined to try my very best to be as good as possible, both to please you and to earn that visit to Annapolis that you spoke of last night. I think it will be very delightful; and how pleased Max will be to see us; especially you."

"I think he will. Ah, here comes the mail-bag!" as a servant entered with it.

"Oh, I hope there's a letter from Max," Lulu said, as her father opened the bag and took out the contents--papers, magazines, and letters.

"Yes, here is one from our dear boy," he said, singling out a letter and hastily tearing it open.

He read it first to himself, then aloud to her--a bright, cheery, boyish, affectionate epistle such as they were accustomed to receive from Max's pen.

They talked it over together while they finished their breakfast, then returned to the library where, as usual, Christine, Alma, and the servants being called in, the captain led the family devotions, reading a portion of the Scripture and engaging in prayer.

"Are you going immediately to Ion, papa?" asked Lulu, when again they were alone together.

"No," he replied; "I have some matters to attend to here while you are preparing your lessons. After hearing them, if your recitations and conduct have been satisfactory, I intend taking you with me to the village, where I have to make some business arrangements; then we will drive to Ion, spend a little time there, then come home, probably bringing your little sisters and brother with us as we did the other day, returning them as before to your Mamma Vi, just in time for supper and bed, and coming home alone together."

"Oh, I like that, papa!" she exclaimed, "and is it what you intend doing every day?"

"Every day while your Grandma Elsie is so ill that the noise might disturb her; unless the weather should be quite too inclement, I think it will be a relief to your Mamma Vi to have them here a good deal of the time, till her mother is better.

"I suppose so, papa; and at the same time very pleasant for us--they are such darlings!"

"So you and I think," he said, with a smile. "Now go to your lessons, daughter."

At Ion Grandma Elsie lay quietly sleeping, her three daughters watching over her with tenderest care and solicitude. Scarce a sound was to be heard, either within doors or without, save the distant lowing of cattle, the twittering of birds, and the gentle sighing of the wind in the treetops; family and servants moved with cautious tread, speaking seldom, and that with bated breath, lest they should disturb her who was so dear to all hearts.

To Walter it seemed very hard to be shut out of mamma's room, and he sat on the veranda watching for the coming of Cousin Arthur, to pet.i.tion for admittance, if only for a moment, just to look at her and come away again.

Cousin Arthur had been with her through the night, had gone away early in the morning and was expected back again soon.

The half hour spent in watching and waiting seemed very long indeed to the little lad, but at last, oh joy! there was Cousin Arthur's sulky turning in at the great gates; then it came swiftly up the avenue, and Walter rose and hastened to meet the doctor as he alighted.

"O Cousin Arthur!" he cried, but in subdued tones, "they've shut me out of mamma's room and I just don't know how to stand it any longer. Mayn't I go in, if it's only for a minute, to get one look at her dear face? I won't speak to her or touch her if you say I must not, but oh, I don't know how to endure being kept away from her altogether."

The little fellow's tones were tremulous, and his eyes filled with tears as he spoke.

Dr. Conly felt for the child, and laying a hand kindly on his head, said cheerfully, "Don't be down-hearted, my boy, your mother will be well enough in a few days, I hope, to stand quite an interview with her youngest son, and perhaps it may do for you to go in for a moment this morning; you may come upstairs with me and wait in the hall till I see how she is. If I find her well enough to stand a peep from her boy, you shall go in for a minute, provided you will promise to be cheerful and not to speak unless you have the doctor's permission."