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Elsie's New Relations by Martha Finley

M >> Martha Finley >> Elsie\'s New Relations




"He sends you a message, dears," Violet said. "I have not really read the
letter yet, but shall do so after supper, and you shall all surely have
your share of it."

On leaving the table they followed her to the door of her boudoir.

"May we come in, Mamma Vi?" Max asked, with a wistful look.

"Certainly," she answered in a pleasant tone, though longing to be quite
alone while giving her precious letter its first perusal; "I would have
you feel as free to come into my apartments as I always have felt to go
into mamma's. Sit down and make yourselves comfortable, dears, and you
shall hear presently what your papa says.

"The letter was written on shipboard, brought into New York by another
vessel and there mailed to me."

Max politely drew up a chair near the light for Violet, another for Lulu,
placed Gracie's own little rocker close to her mamma's side, then stood
behind it prepared to give close attention to the reading of his father's
letter.

Violet omitted a little here and there--expressions of tender affection
for herself, or something else evidently intended for her eye alone. The
captain wrote delightful letters; at least they were such in the esteem of
his wife and children. This one provoked to both laughter and tears, he
had so amusing a way of relating trivial incidents, and some passages were
so tenderly affectionate.

But something near the close brought an anxious, troubled look to Max's
face, a frown to Lulu's brow.

It was this: "Tell Max and Lulu I wish each of them to keep a diary for my
inspection, writing down every evening what have been the doings and
happenings of the day as regards themselves--their studies, their
pleasures, their conduct also. Max telling of himself, Lulu of herself,
just as they would if sitting on my knee and answering the questions,
'What have you been busy about to-day? Have you been attentive to your
studies, respectful and obedient to those in charge of you? Have you tried
to do your duty toward God and man?'

"They need not show any one at Ion what they write. I shall trust to their
truthfulness and honesty not to represent themselves as better than they
are, not to hide their faults from the father who cares to know of them,
only that he may help his dear children to live right and be happy. Ah, if
they but knew how I love them! and how it grieves and troubles me when
they go astray!"

Max's face brightened at those closing sentences, Lulu's softened for a
moment, but then, as Violet folded the letter, "I don't want to!" she
burst out. "Why does papa say we must do such things?"

"He tells you, dear; did you not notice?" said Violet. "He says he wishes
to know your faults in order to help you to correct them. And don't you
think it will help you to avoid wrongdoing? to resist temptation? the
remembrance that it must be confessed to your dear father and will grieve
him very much? Is it not kind in him to be willing to bear that pain for
the sake of doing you good?"

Lulu did not answer, but Max said, "Yes, indeed, Mamma Vi! and oh, I hope
I'll never have to make his heart ache over my wrongdoings! But I don't
know how to keep a diary."

"Nor I either," added Lulu.

"But you can learn, dears," Violet said. "I will help you at the start.
You can each give a very good report of to-day's conduct, I am sure.

"The keeping of a diary will be very improving to you in a literary way,
teaching you to express your thoughts readily in writing, and that, I
presume, is one thing your father has in view."

"But it will be just like writing compositions; and that I always did
_hate_!" cried Lulu vehemently.

"No, not exactly," said Max; "because you don't have to make up anything,
only to tell real happenings and doings that you haven't had time to
forget."

"And I think you will soon find it making the writing of compositions
easier," remarked Violet, with an encouraging smile.

"It'll be just the same as having to write a composition every day,"
grumbled Lulu. "I wish papa wouldn't be so hard on us. I have to study
lessons a whole hour every evening, and then it'll take ever so long to
write that, and I shall not have a bit of time to play."

"I wish I could write," little Gracie said, with a half sigh. "If I could,
I'd like to talk that way to papa."

"You shall learn, darling," Violet said, caressing her with gentle
fondness. "Would you like to begin now?"

"Oh, yes, mamma!" cried the child eagerly.

"Then bring me your slate, and I will set you a copy. Max and Lulu, would
you like to bring your writing-desks in here, and let me give you any help
you may need?"

Both assented to the proposal with thanks, and were presently seated near
her, each with open desk, a fresh sheet of paper spread out upon it, and
pen in hand.

"I think that until you are a little used to the business, it would be
well to compose first with a pencil, then copy in ink," remarked Violet.
"And here," taking it from a drawer in her writing-desk, as she spoke,
"is some printing paper which takes pencil mark much better than the more
highly glazed paper which we use ordinarily in writing letters."

She gave each of them a pile of neatly cut sheets and a nicely sharpened
pencil.

They thanked her, and Max set to work at once.

Lulu sat playing with her pencil, her eyes on the carpet. "I don't know
how to begin!" she exclaimed presently in an impatient tone. "What shall I
say first, Mamma Vi?"

"Write down the date and then--Suppose you dictate to me, if that will be
any easier."

"Thank you, ma'am, I think it would till I get into the way of it," Lulu
said, handing over her paper and pencil with a sigh of relief.

"Now," said Violet, encouragingly, "just imagine that you are sitting on
your papa's knee and answering the question, 'What have you been doing all
day?'"

"As soon as I was dressed and ready for breakfast, I went to Grandma
Elsie's dressing-room, along with Rosie and the others, to say Bible
verses, and hear Grandma Elsie talk about them and pray. Will that do,
Mamma Vi?"

"Very nicely, dear; it is just what your papa wants, I think."

Lulu's brow cleared, and she went on stating briefly the doings of the now
closing day in the due order of their succession, Violet's pen nearly
keeping pace with her tongue.

"And here we are--Max and Gracie and I--sitting with Mamma Vi in her
boudoir, and she is writing for me the words I tell her, and I'm to copy
them off to-morrow," was the concluding sentence of this first entry in
the little girl's diary.

"Will you hear mine, Mamma Vi, and tell me if it will do?" asked Max; and
receiving permission read it aloud.

"It is very good indeed, Max," Violet said; "a good and true report, and
well expressed. Now, if you and Lulu choose you may bring your books here
and study your lessons for to-morrow, and if you need help from me I shall
give it with pleasure."

"But, Mamma Vi, it will be very dull for you to stay up here with us while
the rest of the grown-up people are having a nice time together in the
parlor," said Max.

"You are very kindly thoughtful, Max," returned Violet, with a pleased
look, "but I don't care to go down-stairs for some time yet; Gracie begins
to look weary, so I shall help her to bed and then answer your father's
letter. Can't you imagine that I may prefer to talk to Mm for a little
rather than to any one else, even if only with pen, ink and paper?" she
added, with a charming blush and smile.

"Oh, yes, indeed! for I know you're very fond of him. And I don't wonder,
for I think he's the very best and handsomest man in the world," cried Max
enthusiastically, and both Lulu and Gracie said, "So do I."

"Then we are all agreed so far," laughed Vi. "Come, Gracie, darling, I
will be your maid to-night."

"No, no! not my maid, but my dear, sweet, pretty mamma!" returned the
little one, throwing her arms around Violet's neck and kissing her with
ardent affection.

Lulu had risen to go for her books, but paused to say with a slight effort
and heightened color, "Yes, Mamma Vi, you are sweet and pretty, and very,
very kind to us."

The child was by no means devoid of gratitude, though her pride and
prejudice were hard to conquer. Expressions of gratitude and affection
toward their young stepmother were far less frequent from her than from
her brother and sister, but were perhaps all the more valued because of
their rarity.

"Thank you, dear," returned Violet, happy tears glistening in her eyes;
"if I am, it is because I love you for both your own and your father's
sake."

She knew his heart always rejoiced in every demonstration of affection
from his children toward her, and in the letter she presently began
writing she recounted all that had been shown her that evening, and also
others carefully treasured up in her memory for that purpose.




CHAPTER IX.

"The sober comfort, all the peace which springs
From the large aggregate of little things,
On these small cares of--daughter--wife--or friend,
The almost sacred joys of home depend."
--Hannah More.


Mrs. Elsie Travilla and her family were greatly beloved in their own
neighborhood, and as there had been no opportunity hitherto for showing
attention to the three young married ladies, or any one of them, there was
quite an influx of callers for a week or two after the return to Ion, and
these calls were presently succeeded by a round of dinner and evening
parties given in their honor.

The death of Mr. Love having occurred within the year, Zoe, of course,
declined all such invitations; and it was only occasionally that Edward
could be persuaded to go without her.

Violet accepted when it would have been deemed impolite or unkind to
decline, but scarcely yet more than a bride, she felt a trifle forlorn
going into society without her husband, and much preferred the quiet and
seclusion of home.

This was to the advantage of the children, Max and Lulu thereby gaining
much assistance with their evening studies, Gracie a great deal of
motherly care and petting.

So the duty of representing the family at these social gatherings devolved
largely upon Lester and Elsie Leland, who laughingly declared themselves
martyrs to the social reputation of the family.

"A very nice way to be martyred, I think," said Rosie. "I only wish they'd
have the politeness to include me in their invitations."

"It would do you little good," remarked Mr. Dinsmore, "since you would not
be allowed to accept."

"Are you quite sure, grandpa, that mamma wouldn't allow it?" she asked,
with an arch look up into his face.

"Quite; since she never allows anything which I do not approve."

"Well," Rosie said, seating herself upon his knee and putting an arm
around his neck, "I believe it isn't worth while to fret about it, since,
as I'm not invited, I couldn't go any how."

"A sensible conclusion," he returned laughingly. "Fretting is an
unprofitable business at any time."

"Ordinarily I should be very much of Rosie's opinion," Zoe said aside to
her husband, "for I was always fond of parties; but of course, just now I
couldn't take the least pleasure in them," and she hastily brushed away a
tear.

"No, love, I'm sure you could not," he said, tenderly clasping the little
hand she had laid in his. "But the truest, purest happiness is found at
home. And," he added with a smile, "it is quite to the advantage of your
plans for study that society can claim so little of your time and strength
at present. You are doing so nicely that I am very proud of my pupil."

She flushed with pleasure, but with a roguish smile, and shaking her
finger warningly at him, "Take care," she said, "don't let the husband be
lost in the tutor, or I shall----"

"What? go over to grandpa?"

"Oh, no, no!" she cried, snatching her hand from his grasp, and lifting
both in mimic horror.

"What are you two chatting so cosily about in that far-off corner?" asked
Mrs. Leland's cheery voice from the midst of the larger group at the
farther side of the room.

"It's merely a little private confab between man and wife, in which the
public can have no interest," returned Edward.

"Quite a mistake, so far as this part of the public is concerned," said
his mother, her soft brown eyes gazing lovingly upon them, "but we won't
pry into your secrets, only invite you to join our circle when you have
finished your private chat."

For some weeks all went well with our friends at Ion; the family machinery
worked smoothly, with no jarring or jostling; everybody in good humor and
behaving kindly toward everybody else.

Max and Lulu made good progress in their studies, and were able to give a
good report of each day in their diaries, which, of their own accord, they
brought each evening to Violet for her inspection.

She reminded them that they were not required to do so; but they answered
that they preferred it; they wanted to know if she thought they were
representing themselves as better than they really were.

She was glad to be able to answer with truth that she did not think so,
and that she could report them to their father as worthy of all praise in
regard to both conduct and diligence in study.

"You have both been so pleasant tempered," she remarked in conclusion,
"Lulu neither grumbling nor so much as looking sour over her tasks, or
even the sewing lessons, which I know are particularly distasteful to her.
Dear child, you have been very good, and I know it will rejoice your
father's heart to hear it," she added, kissing the little girl's cheek.

Lulu's face flushed and her eyes shone, Mrs. Scrimp had been always ready
to blame, never to praise, but with Mamma Vi it was just the other way.
She was almost blind to faults, but particularly keen-sighted where
virtues were concerned.

Violet turned toward Max to find him regarding her with wistful, longing
looks.

"Well, what is it, Max, my dear boy?" she asked, half laughingly.

"Don't be partial, Mamma Vi," he answered. "I do believe a boy likes a
kiss from a sweet, pretty lady that he has a right to care for, quite as
well as a girl does."

"Then come and get it," she said, offering her lips. "Max, you may feel as
free always to ask for it as if I were your own mother or sister."

Edward had, perhaps, the most trying pupil of all; she had done well at
first, but as the novelty of the undertaking wore off, lost her interest,
and now found so many excuses for not being prepared at the proper time
for recitation; and if he so much as looked grave over the failure, was so
hurt, and felt herself so ill-used, that an extra amount of coaxing and
petting became necessary to restore her to cheerfulness and good humor.

He was growing very weary of it all, and at times felt tempted to cease
trying to improve the mind of his little wife; but no, he could not do
that if he would have her a fit companion for him intellectually as well
as in other respects, for though she had naturally a fine mind, its
cultivation had been sadly neglected.

He opened his heart to his mother on the subject, entreating her advice
and assistance, but without finding fault with Zoe (Elsie would hardly
have listened for a moment to that), and she comforted him with words of
encouragement to persevere in his own efforts, and promises to aid him in
every way in her power.

In pursuance of that object she put in Zoe's way, and recommended to her
notice, books that would be likely to interest and at the same time
instruct her. Also considered her needs, as well as those of her own
pupils, in making her selections for the afternoon readings in the
school-room.

There was much gained by the child wife in these ways, and also from the
conversation of the highly educated and intelligent older members of the
family, of which she had now become a part.

She was very desirous to become their equal in these respects, especially
for Edward's sake, but she was so much used to self-indulgence, so
unaccustomed to self-control, that her good resolutions were made only to
be broken till she herself was nearly ready to give up in despair.

Elsie was alone in her own apartments one afternoon, an hour or more after
dismissing her pupils to their play, when Zoe came to her with flushed
cheeks, quivering lips, and eyes full of tears.

"What is wrong with you, my dear little daughter?" Elsie asked in tender,
motherly tones, as she looked up into the troubled face.

"O mamma, I don't know what to do! I wish you could help me!" cried Zoe,
dropping upon her knees at Elsie's feet, and hiding her face on her lap,
the tears falling fast now, mingled with sobs.

"Only tell me what is wrong, dear, and you shall have all the help I can
give," Elsie said, smoothing the weeper's fair hair with soft, caressing
hand.

"Edward is vexed with me," sobbed Zoe. "I know he is, though he didn't say
a word; but he looked so grave, and walked away without speaking."

"Perhaps he was not vexed with you, dear; it may have been merely that he
was deep in thought about something that had no connection with the little
wife, whom, as I very well know, he loves very dearly."

"No, mamma, it wasn't that; he had come in to hear me recite, and I was so
interested in my fancy work that I'd forgotten to watch the time and
hadn't looked at the lessons. So I told him, and said I was sorry I
wasn't ready for him, and he didn't answer a word, but just looked at me
as grave as a judge, and turned round and walked out of the room."

"Surely, my dear Zoe, Edward does not insist upon his little wife learning
lessons whether she is willing or not?" Elsie said inquiringly, and with a
gentle caress.

"Oh, no, no, mamma! it has been my own choice, and I've no wish to give it
up; but somehow there is always something interfering with my studying.
Somebody calls, or I'm inclined for a ride, a drive or a walk, or I get
engaged in sewing or fancy work, or my music, or a story-book that's too
interesting to lay down till I reach the end. Mamma, I often wonder how it
is that you find time for all these things and many others beside."

"Shall I tell you the secret of managing it, dear?" Elsie asked, with an
affectionate look and smile into the tear-stained face now uplifted to
hers.

Zoe gave an eager assent, and Elsie went on:

"It lies in doing things systematically, always putting duties first,
giving to each its set time, and letting the pleasures come in afterward.
If I were you, my dear, I should have a regular study hour, putting it
early in the day, before callers begin to come, and I should not allow it
to be lightly interfered with; no stitch should be taken in fancy work,
no novel opened, no story paper glanced at, until each lesson for the day
was fully prepared."

Zoe's face had brightened very much as she listened.

"O mamma, I see that that is just the way to do it!" she cried, clapping
her hands with glee, "and I'll begin at once. I'll think over all the
daily duties and make out a regular programme, and----"

"Strive earnestly to carry it out, you would say, yet not in your own
strength alone," Elsie added, as Zoe paused, leaving her sentence
unfinished.

"Yes, mamma," she responded in a more serious tone. "And now, I'll run
back to my room and try to be ready for Edward when he comes in again."

She set herself to her tasks with unwonted determination to give her whole
mind to them. Edward came in at length, and was greeted with a bright look
and the announcement in a tone of great satisfaction, "I'm quite ready for
you now."

"I've been thinking we might perhaps as well give it up, Zoe," he answered
gravely, "at least for the present, until you are done working upon those
very fascinating Christmas things."

"Oh no, don't!" she said, flushing and looking ready to cry, "try me a
little longer, Ned; I've been talking with mamma, and I'm really going to
turn over a new leaf and do just as she advises."

"Ah, if you have taken mamma into your counsels there is some hope," he
said in a tone of hearty approval. "But we will have to put off the
recitations until after tea. I must drive over to the Oaks to see Uncle
Horace about a business matter, and I just came up to ask you to go
along."

"Oh, I'll be happy to!" she cried joyously, pushing the books aside and
starting to her feet, "and it won't take me a minute to don hat and
cloak."

He caught her in his arms as she was rushing past him, and kissing her on
cheek and lips, asked in tender tones, "Have I made you unhappy this
afternoon, my love, my darling?"

"Yes, for a little while; but I deserved it, Ned, and I don't mind it now
if--if only you love your foolish, careless little wife as well as ever in
spite of all her faults."

"I love you dearly, dearly, my one own peculiar treasure," he responded,
with another caress of ardent affection, as he let her go.

She was gay and happy as a bird during their drive, and full of enthusiasm
in regard to her new plan, explaining it to Edward, and asking his advice
about the best division of her time, how much should be allotted to this
duty and how much to that.

"I mean to rise earlier," she said, "and if I can't get time in that way
for all I want to do, I'll shorten my rides and walks."

"No," he said, "I'm not going to have your health sacrificed even to
mental improvement; and certainly not to fancy work; I shall insist on
plenty of rest and sleep and abundance of exercise in the open air for the
dear little woman I have taken charge of."

"Then, sir, you're not to be cross if the studies are not attended to."

"They will be if put before novels, fancy work, and other equally
unnecessary employments."

"Well, I've said they shall be in future. O Ned," and she nestled closer
to his side, looking up lovingly into his face, "it's ever so nice to have
somebody to take care of me and love me as you do! How could I ever do
without papa, who always petted me so, if I hadn't you?"

"I hope you may never find out. I hope I may be spared to take care of
you, as long as you need me, little wife," he said, pressing her closer to
his side.

Rosie met them in the hall on their return to Ion.

"It's most tea time, Zoe," she said; "I think you'll not have any too much
time for changing your dress."

"Then I must needs make haste," returned Zoe, tripping up the stairs.

Edward, who was taking off his overcoat, turned a rather surprised,
inquiring glance upon his little sister.

"Oh, yes," she said laughingly, "I had a reason for hurrying her away,
because I want to tell you something. Cousin Ronald Lilburn is coming.
Maybe he will be here by to-morrow. Mamma heard he wasn't well, and she
wrote and invited him to come and spend the winter with us, and she's just
had a letter saying he will come. Aren't you glad, Ned?"

"I'm very well pleased, Rosie, but why shouldn't Zoe have heard your
announcement?"

"Because I wanted to warn you first not to tell her or the Raymonds
something (you know what) that must be kept secret at first, if we want to
have some fun."

"Oh, yes!" he said, with a good-humored laugh. "Well, I think you may
trust me not to tell. But how about all the others? Walter, especially?"

"Oh, he doesn't remember anything about it; and grandpa and mamma and all
the rest have promised not to tell."

"And you are quite sure Rosie may be trusted not to let the secret slip
out unintentionally?" he asked, pinching her round rosy cheek.

"I hope so," she said, laughing and running away.

Opening the library door and seeing Lulu there curled up in the corner of
a sofa with a book, she stepped in, shutting the door behind her.

Lulu looked up.

"Shall I disturb you if I talk?" asked Rose.

"I'm ready to listen," answered Lulu, half closing her book. "What have
you to say?"

"Oh, that Cousin Ronald Lilburn is coming, and I'm ever so glad, as you
would be, too, if you knew him."

"I never heard of him," said Lulu. "Is he a boy? is he older than Max?"

"I should think so!" cried Rosie, with a merry laugh. "He has grown-up
sons, and he looks a good deal older than grandpa."

"Pooh! then why should I care about his coming!" exclaimed Lulu, in a tone
of mingled impatience and contempt.

"Why, because he's very nice and kind to us children, and tells us the
loveliest stories about the brownies in Scotland and about Bruce and
Wallace and the black Douglass and Robin Hood and his merry men, and--oh,
I can't tell you what all!"

"Oh, that must be ever so nice!" cried Lulu, now as much pleased and
interested in the news of the expected arrival as Rosie could desire.




CHAPTER X.

IN WHICH THE CHILDREN HAVE SOME FUN.


In the uppermost story of the house at Ion was a large play-room furnished
with a great variety of toys and games--indeed almost everything that
could be thought of for the amusement of the young folks, from Walter up
to Max.

But the greatest delight of the last named was in the deft handling of the
tools in an adjoining apartment, called the boys' work-room. There he
found abundance of material to work upon, holly scroll and fret saws, and
a well-stocked tool chest.

Edward had given him a few lessons at the start, and now he had become so
expert as to be turning out some really beautiful pieces of carving, which
he intended to give to his friends at Christmas.

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