Kitabı oku: «Elsie in the South», sayfa 8

CHAPTER XII

"Cousin Ronald, can't you make some fun for us?" asked Ned at the breakfast table the next morning. "We haven't had any of your kind since we came here."

"Well, and what of that, youngster? must you live on fun all the time?" asked a rough voice directly behind the little boy.

"Oh! who are you? and how did you come in here?" he asked, turning half round in his chair, in the effort to see the speaker. "Oh, pshaw! you're nobody. Was it you, Cousin Ronald? or was it brother Max?"

"Polite little boys do not call gentlemen nobodies," remarked another voice that seemed to come from a distant corner of the room.

"And I didn't mean to," said Ned, "but the things I want to say will twist up, somehow."

"That bird you are eating looks good," said the same voice; "couldn't you spare me a leg?"

"Oh, yes," laughed Ned, "if you'll come and get it. But one of these little legs wouldn't be much more than a bite for you."

"Well, a bite would be better than no breakfast at all; and somebody might give me one of those nice-looking rolls."

"I'm sure of it if you'll come to the table and show yourself," replied Ned.

"Here I am then," said the voice close at his side.

"Oh, are you?" returned Ned. "Well, help yourself. You can have anything you choose to take."

"Now, Ned, do you call that polite?" laughed Lucilla. "As you invited him to the table you surely ought to help him to what he has asked for."

At that Ned looked scrutinizingly at Cousin Ronald's plate, then at his brother's, and seeing that both were well filled remarked, "I see he's well helped already and oughtn't to be asking for more till he gets that eaten up."

"Oh, you know too much, young man," laughed Max. "It isn't worth while for Cousin Ronald and me to waste our talents upon you."

"Oh, yes, it is, Brother Max," said the little fellow, "for it's fun, even though I do know it's one or the other or both of you."

"Oh, Cousin Ronald," exclaimed Elsie, "can't you make some fun at the wedding, as you did when Cousin Betty was married? I don't remember much of it myself, but I've heard other folks tell about it."

"Why not ask Max instead of me?" queried Mr. Lilburn.

"Oh!" cried the little girl, "I'd like to have both of you do it. It's more fun with two than with only one."

"And it might be well to consult cousins Maud and Dick about it," suggested Grandma Elsie. "You can do so to-day, as we are all invited to take lunch at Torriswood."

"Are we? oh, that's nice!" exclaimed Elsie, smiling brightly. "You will let us go, papa, won't you?"

"Yes; I expect to take you there."

"And if we all go Cousin Ronald and Max might make some fun for us there. I guess the Torriswood folks would like it," remarked Ned insinuatingly.

"But might not you grow tired – having so much of it?" asked Max.

"No, indeed!" cried the little fellow. "It's too much fun for anybody to get tired of it."

"Any little chap like you, perhaps," remarked the strange voice from the distant corner.

"Pooh! I'm not so very little now," returned Ned.

"Not too little to talk a good deal," laughed Grandpa Dinsmore.

"This is a lovely morning," remarked Dr. Harold, "the roads are in fine condition too, and I think the distance to Torriswood is not too great to make a very pleasant walk for those of us who are young and strong."

"And there are riding horses and conveyances in plenty for any who prefer to use them," added his mother.

Evelyn, Lucilla, and Max all expressed their desire to try the walk, and Grace said, "I should like to try it too;" but both her father and Dr. Harold put a veto upon that, saying she was not strong enough, so must be content to ride.

"Cousin Ronald and brother Max, can't we have some fun there to-day, as well as at the wedding time?" said Ned in his most coaxing tones.

"Possibly, bit laddie," returned the old gentleman pleasantly. "If I am not too auld, your good brother is no' too young."

"But you are the more expert of the two, sir," said Max; "and perhaps it may be the better plan for us both to take part."

"Ah, well, we'll see when the time comes," responded the old gentleman. "I like well to please the bit laddie, if it can be done without vexing or disturbing anybody else."

"I don't think it can do that," observed Ned wisely, "for it's good fun and everybody likes fun. Even my papa does," he added with a smiling glance up into his father's face.

"Yes; when it does not annoy or weary anyone else," the captain said in return.

"Will Chester be over here this morning, Lu?" asked Violet.

"He expected to when he went away last night," was the reply. "But possibly he may not come if he hears that we are to go there."

"I think he is too much a man of his word to be hindered by that," her father said, giving her a reassuring smile.

And he was right, for Chester was with them even a little earlier than usual.

"Maud told me you were all coming over to lunch with her," he said, "but as some of you have never seen the place, I thought you might not object to a pilot, and the exercise would be rather beneficial to me."

"You are right there," said Harold. "You know that as your physician I have prescribed a good deal of outdoor exercise."

"Yes; I have been taking the prescription, too, and I find it beneficial; especially when I am so fortunate as to secure pleasant company." His glance at Lucilla as he spoke seemed to imply that there was none more desirable than hers.

"Then, as the walk is a long one, I would suggest that we start as soon as may suit the convenience of the ladies," said Harold, and Evelyn and Lucilla hastened to make such preparation as they deemed necessary or desirable.

The Parsonage was scarce a stone's throw out of their path and they called there on their way. They owed Isadore a call and were willing to make one upon her sister Virginia also – now making her home at the Parsonage – though she had not as yet called upon them.

They found both ladies upon the veranda. Isadore gave them a joyful welcome, Virginia a cool one, saying, "I should have called upon you before now, but I know poor relations are not apt to prove welcome visitors."

"But I had thought you were making your home at Viamede," said Dr.

Harold.

"No; not since Dick and Bob removed to Torriswood. I couldn't think of living on there alone; so came here to Isa, she being my nearest of kin in this part of the world."

Harold thought he did not envy Isa on that account, but prudently refrained from saying so.

Isa invited them to stay and spend the day there, but they declined, stating that they were on their way to Torriswood by invitation.

"Yes," said Virginia; "they can invite rich relations but entirely neglect poor me."

"Why, Virgie," exclaimed Isadore in surprise, "I am sure you have been invited there more than once since you have been here."

"Well, I knew it was only a duty invitation and they didn't really want me; so I didn't go. I have a little more sense than to impose my company upon people who don't really want it."

"I shouldn't think anybody would while you show such an ugly temper," thought Lucilla, but refrained from saying it. She and her companions made but a short call, presently bade good-by and continued on their way to Torriswood.

They received a warm welcome there and were presently joined by the rest of their party from Viamede. There was some lively and animated chat in regard to letters sent and letters received, the making of the wedding dress and various other preparations for the coming ceremony, to all of which little Ned listened rather impatiently; then, as soon as a pause in the conversation gave him an opportunity, he turned to Dr. Percival, saying, "Cousin Dick, wouldn't it be right nice to have a little fun?"

"Fun, Neddie? Why, certainly, my boy; fun is often quite beneficial to the health. But how shall we manage it? have you a good joke for us?"

"No, sir," said Ned, "but you know we have two ventriloquists here and – and I like the kind of fun they make. Don't you?"

"It is certainly very amusing sometimes, and I see no objection if our friends are willing to favor us with some specimens of their skill," was the reply, accompanied by a glance first at Mr. Milburn, then at Max.

"Oh!" exclaimed Maud, "that might be a good entertainment for our wedding guests!"

"Probably," returned her husband, "but if it is to be used then it would be well not to let our servants into the secret beforehand."

"Decidedly so, I should say," said Max. "It would be better to reserve that entertainment for that time."

"But surely it would do no harm to give us a few examples of your skill to-day, when the servants are out of the room," said Maud.

"No, certainly not, if anything worth while could be thought of," said Max; "but it seems to me that it must be quite an old story with all of us here."

"Not to me, brother Max," exclaimed Ned. "And the funny things you and Cousin Ronald seem to make invisible folks say make other people laugh as well as me."

"And laughter is helpful to digestion," said a strange voice, apparently speaking from the doorway. "But should folks digest too well these doctors might find very little to do. So it is not to be wondered at if they object to letting much fun be made."

"But the doctors haven't objected," laughed Dr. Percival, "and I have no fear that work for them will fail even if some of their patients should laugh and grow fat."

"I presume that's what the little fellow that wants the fun has been doing," said the voice; "for as regards fat he is in prime condition."

At that Ned colored and looked slightly vexed. "Papa, am I so very fat?" he asked.

"None too fat to suit my taste, my son," replied the captain, smiling kindly on the little fellow.

"And you wouldn't want to be a bag of bones, would you?" queried the voice.

"No," returned Ned sturdily, "I'd a great deal rather be fat; bones are ugly things any way."

"Good to cover up with fat, but very necessary underneath it," said the voice. "You couldn't stand or walk if you had no bones."

"No; to be sure not; though I never thought about it before," returned Ned. "Some ugly things are worth more, after all, than some pretty ones."

"Very true," said the voice; "so we must not despise anything merely because it lacks beauty."

"Is it you talking, Cousin Ronald, or is it brother Max?" asked Ned, looking searchingly first at one and then at the other.

"No matter which, laddie," said the old gentleman; "and who shall say it hasn't been both of us?"

"Oh, yes, maybe it was! I couldn't tell," exclaimed Ned.

But lunch was now ready and all repaired to the table. The blessing had been asked and all were sitting quietly as Dr. Percival took up a knife to carve a fowl. "Don't, oh, don't!" seemed to come from it in a terrified scream. "I'm all right. No need of a surgeon's knife."

Everyone was startled for an instant, the doctor nearly dropping his knife; then there was a general laugh and the carving proceeded without further objection. The servants were all out of the room at the moment.

"Ah, Cousin Ronald, that reminds me of very old times, when I was a little child," said Violet, giving the old gentleman a mirthful look.

"Ah, yes!" he said, "I remember now that I was near depriving you of your share of the fowl when breakfasting one morning at your father's hospitable board. Have you not yet forgiven that act of indiscretion?"

"Indeed, yes; fully and freely long ago. But it was really nothing to forgive – your intention having been to afford amusement to us all."

"Neddie, shall I help you? are you willing to eat of a fowl that can scream out so much like a human creature?" asked Dr. Percival.

"Oh, yes, Cousin Doctor; 'cause I know just how he did it," laughed the little boy.

Then the talk about the table turned upon various matters connected with the subject of the approaching wedding – whether this or that relative would be likely to come; when he or she might be expected to arrive, and where be entertained; the adornment of the grounds for the occasion; the fashion in which each of the brides's new dresses should be made and what jewelry, if any, she should wear when dressed for the ceremony. Also about a maid of honor and bridesmaids.

"I want to have two or three little flower girls," said Sidney; "and I have thought of Elsie Dinsmore, Elsie Embury, and Elsie Raymond as the ones I should prefer; they are near enough of an age, all related to me and all quite pretty; at least they will look so when handsomely dressed," she added with a laughing look at the one present, who blushed and seemed slightly embarrassed for a moment, but said not a word.

"I highly approve if we can get the other two here in season," said Maud.

"Then for my maid of honor I must have one of you older girls," continued Sidney. "Perhaps I'll want all three. I don't know yet how many groomsmen Robert is going to have."

"Cousin Harold and my friend Max, if they will serve," said Robert, glancing inquiringly at them in turn.

"Thank you, Bob," said Harold; "seeing you are a brother physician – cousin as well – I cannot think of refusing. In fact I consider myself quite honored."

Max also accepted the invitation with suitable words and the talk went on.

"Are you expecting to take a trip?" asked Harold.

"Yes; we talk of going to the Bahamas," said Robert. "It is said to be a delightful winter resort and neither of us has ever been there."

"Then I think you will be likely to enjoy your visit there greatly," responded Harold.

"So we think," said Robert. "But now about groomsmen; I'd like to add your brother Herbert and Sidney's brother Frank if we can get them here, and they are willing to serve. Chester won't, because Lu must not be a bridesmaid, having served twice or thrice already in that capacity – and you know the old saying, 'Three times a bridesmaid never a bride.'"

"I have little doubt of the willingness of the lads if they are here in season," returned Harold; "but I think Herbert's movements will depend largely upon those of Cousin Arthur Conly. It would hardly do for all three of us to absent ourselves from professional duties at the same time."

"But Frank can be spared from his, I suppose?" Robert said inquiringly, turning to Chester as he spoke.

"Yes; for a short time, I think," was Chester's reply.

"Come, let us all go out on the lawn and consult in regard to the best place for having the arch made under which our bridal party are to stand," Maud said, addressing the company in general as they left the table. The invitation was accepted and they spent some time in strolling about under the trees, chatting familiarly; the principal topic being the one proposed by Mrs. Percival, but considering also the question where it would be best to set the tables for the wedding guests.

"It is likely to be a large company," said Maud, "but I think we can accommodate them all comfortably."

"Yes; I should think so," said Grandma Elsie. "Your lawn is large and lovely. I am very glad, Dick, that you secured so beautiful a place."

"Thank you, cousin," he returned, "I think I was fortunate in getting it; as Maud does too. She likes it well."

"And you prefer it to Viamede?"

"Only because it is my own," he answered with a smile. "One could not find a lovelier place than Viamede."

"But you lost the housekeeping of your cousin Virginia by making the change," Harold observed with a humorous look.

"Hardly!" laughed Dick; "she was that but in name. And the change to Isa's housekeeping and companionship must be rather agreeable to her, I should think."

"She seems to me much the more agreeable of the two," said Harold.

"Yes; Isa is a lovely woman. And Virginia has her good qualities, too."

As Torriswood was but little farther from the bayou than Viamede, it was presently decided by the young people that they would return by boat, and upon starting they found it so pleasant that they took a much longer sail, reaching their destination barely in time for dinner.

"Does Sidney's evident happiness in the near approach of her marriage make my little girl unhappy and discontented with her father's decision in regard to hers?" asked Captain Raymond, when Lucilla came to him for the usual bit of good-night chat.

"Oh, no, papa; no indeed!" she exclaimed with a low, happy laugh. "Have you forgotten, or don't you know yet, how dearly that same little girl loves to be with you?"

"Really, I believe she does," he said, caressing her with tenderness, "and though it is undeniably partly for his own – her father's – sake, that he insists upon delay, it is still more for yours – believing as he does that you are yet much too young for the cares and duties of married life. I want you to have a good play-day before going into them," he added, with another caress.

"You dear, kind father!" she said in response. "I could wish to be always a child if so I might be always with you."

"Well, daughter, we may hope for many years together in this world and a blessed eternity together in heaven."

"Yes, papa, there is great happiness in that thought. Oh, I am glad and thankful that God gave me a Christian father."

"And I that I have every reason to believe that my dear eldest daughter has learned to know and love him. To belong to Christ is better than to have the wealth of the world. Riches take to themselves wings and fly away; but he has said, 'I will never leave thee, nor forsake thee.'"

"Such a sweet, precious promise, father!"

"Yes; it may well relieve us from care and anxiety about the future; especially as taken in connection with that other precious promise, 'As thy days, so shall thy strength be.'"

"Don't you think, papa, that if we always remembered and fully believed the promises of God's word we might – we should be happy under all circumstances?"

"I do indeed," he said emphatically. "We all need to pray as the disciples did, 'Lord increase our faith,' for 'without faith it is impossible to please him.'"

CHAPTER XIII

The next three weeks passed very delightfully to our friends at Viamede. There were rides, drives, boating, and fishing excursions, not to speak of rambles through the woods and fields and quiet home pleasures. Also the approaching wedding and the preparations for it greatly interested them all, especially the young girls. It was pleasantly exciting to watch the making of the bride's dresses and of their own, intended to be worn on that important occasion. Besides, after a little there were various arrivals of relations and friends to whom invitations had been sent: the whole families from Riverside, Ion, Fairview, the Oaks, the Laurels, Beechwood, and Roselands.

Herbert Travilla would have denied himself the pleasure of the trip in order that Dr. Arthur Conly might take a much-needed rest, but it was finally decided that both might venture to absent themselves from their practice for a short season.

All Grandma Elsie's children and grandchildren were taken in at Viamede, making the house very full, and the rest were accommodated with the other relatives at the Parsonage, Magnolia Hall, and Torriswood; in which last-named place the family from the Oaks were domiciled. It was not until a very few days before that appointed for the wedding that the last of the relatives from a distance arrived.

To the extreme satisfaction of all concerned the wedding day dawned bright and beautiful – not a cloud in the sky. The ceremony was to be at noon, and the guests came pouring in shortly before that hour.

The grounds were looking their loveliest – the grass like emerald velvet bespangled with fragrant flowers of every hue, the trees laden with foliage, some of them – the oranges and magnolias in particular – bearing blossoms; the former their green and golden fruit also. Under these an arch, covered with smilax, had been erected, and from its centre hung a large bell formed of the lovely and fragrant orange blossoms; the clapper made of crimson roses. Under that the bridal party presently took their stand.

First came the three little flower girls – Elsie Dinsmore, Elsie Raymond, and Elsie Embury – dressed in white silk mull, and each carrying a basket of white roses; then the bridesmaids and groomsmen – Frank Dinsmore with Corinne Embury, Harold Travilla with Grace Raymond, Herbert Travilla and Mary Embury – the girls all dressed in white and carrying bouquets of smilax and white flowers.

Max had declined to serve on hearing that Eva could not serve with him on account of being still in mourning for her mother.

Lastly came the bride and groom, Sidney looking very charming in a white silk trimmed with abundance of costly lace, wearing a beautiful bridal veil and wreath of fresh and fragrant orange blossoms, and carrying a bouquet of the same in her hand.

The party stood underneath the arch, the bride and groom directly beneath the bell in its centre, while the guests gathered about them, the nearest relatives taking the nearest stations.

Mr. Cyril Keith was the officiating minister. It was a pretty ceremony, but short, and then the congratulations and good wishes began.

Those over, the guests were invited to seat themselves about a number of tables scattered here and there under the trees and loaded with tempting viands. The minister craved a blessing upon the food and the feast began.

An effort had been made to some extent so to seat the guests that relatives and friends would be near each other. The entire bridal party was at one table, the other young people of the connection were pretty close at hand – the older ones and their children not much farther off.

Everybody had been helped and cheery chat, mingled with some mirth, was going on, when suddenly a shrill voice, that seemed to come from the branches overhead, cried out, "What you 'bout, all you folks? Polly wants some breakfast."

Everybody started and looked up into the tree from which the sounds had seemed to come; but no parrot was visible there.

"Why, where is the bird?" asked several voices in tones of surprise. But hardly had the question been asked when another parrot seemed to speak from a table near that at which the bridal party sat. "Polly's hungry. Poor old Polly – poor old soul!"

"Is that so, Polly? Then just help yourself," said Dr. Percival.

"Polly wants her coffee. Poor old Polly, poor old soul!" came in reply, sounding as if the bird had gone farther down the table.

Then a whistle was heard that seemed to come from some distance among the trees, and hardly had it ceased when there was a loud call, "Come on, my merry men, and let us get our share of this grand wedding feast."

"Tramps about! and bold ones they must be!" exclaimed one of the neighborhood guests.

"Really I hope they are not going to make any trouble!" cried another. "I fear we have no weapons of defence among us; and if we had I for one would be loath to turn a wedding feast into a fight."

"Hark! hark!" cried another as the notes of a bugle came floating on the breeze, the next minute accompanied by what seemed to be the sound of a drum and fife playing a national air, "what, what can it mean? I have heard of no troops in this neighborhood. But that's martial music, and now," as another sound met the ear, "don't you hear the tramp, tramp?"

"Yes, yes, it certainly must be troops. But who or what can have called them out?" asked a third guest, starting to his feet as if contemplating rushing away to try to catch a glimpse of the approaching soldiers.

"Oh, sit down and let us go on with our breakfast," expostulated still another. "Of course they are American troops on some trifling errand in the neighborhood and not going to interfere with us. There! the music has stopped and I don't hear their tramp either. Dr. Percival," turning in his host's direction and raising his voice, "can you account for that martial music playing a moment since?"

"I haven't heard of any troops about, but am quite sure they will not interfere with us," returned the doctor. "Please, friends, don't let it disturb you at all." Little Ned Raymond was looking and listening in an ecstasy of delight.

"Oh, Cousin Ronald and brother Max, do some more!" he entreated in a subdued, but urgent tone. "Folks do believe it's real soldiers and it's such fun to see how they look and talk about it."

The martial music and the tramp, tramp began again and seemed to draw nearer and nearer, and several dogs belonging on the place rushed away in that direction, barking furiously.

It seemed to excite and disturb many of the guests, and Violet said, "There, my little son, I think that ought to satisfy you for the present. Let our gentlemen and everybody else have their breakfast in peace."

"Good advice, Cousin Vi," said Mr. Lilburn, "and the bit laddie may get his fill of such fun at another time."

"Really I don't understand this at all," remarked a lady seated at the same table with the gentleman who had called to Dr. Percival; "that martial music has ceased with great suddenness, and I no longer hear the tramp, tramp of the troops."

"I begin to have a very strong suspicion that ventriloquism is responsible for it all," returned the gentleman with a smile. "Did you not hear at the time of the marriage of Dr. Johnson's sister that a ventriloquist was present and made rare sport for the guests?"

"Oh, yes, I think I did and that he was one of the relatives. I presume he is here now and responsible for these strange sounds. But," she added thoughtfully, "there are several sounds going on at once; could he make them all, do you think?"

"Perhaps the talent runs in the family and there is more than one here possessing it."

"Ah, yes, that must be it," remarked another guest, nodding wisely. "I presume it is in the family, and what sport it must make for them."

"But what has become of those tramps – the merry men who were going to claim a share of this feast?" queried a young girl seated at the same table.

"Perhaps they have joined the troops," laughed another. "But hark! they are at it again," as a shrill whistle once more came floating on the breeze from the same direction as before, followed by the words, "Come on, my merry men; let us make haste ere all the best of the viands have disappeared down the throats of the fellows already there."

Mr. Hugh Lilburn had overheard the chat about the neighboring table and thought best to gratify the desire to hear further from the merry men of the wood.

A good many eyes were turned in the direction of the sounds, but none could see even one of the merry men so loudly summoned to make a raid upon the feasting company.

Then another voice seemed to reply from the same quarter as the first.

"The days of Robin Hood and his merry men are over lang syne; and this is no' the country for ony sic doin's. If we want a share o' the grand feast we maun ask it like decent, honest folk, tendering payment if that wad no' be considered an insult by the host an' hostess."

At that Dr. Percival laughed and called out in a tone of amusement, "Come on, friends, and let me help you to a share of the eatables; we have enough and to spare, and you will be heartily welcome."

"Thanks, sir," said the voice; "perhaps we may accept when your invited guests have eaten their fill and departed."

"Very well; manage it to suit yourselves," laughed the doctor.

Then another voice from the wood said, "Well, comrades, let us sit down here under the trees and wait for our turn."

All this had caused quite an excitement and a great buzz of talk among the comparatively stranger guests; yet they seemed to enjoy the dainty fare provided and ate heartily of it as they talked, listening, too, for a renewal of the efforts of the ventriloquists.

But the latter refrained from any further exercise of their skill, as the time was drawing near when the bride and groom were to set out upon their bridal trip. They and their principal attendants repaired to the house, where the bride exchanged her wedding gown for a very pretty and becoming travelling dress, her bridesmaids and intimate girl friends assisting her. Her toilet finished, they all ran down into the lower hall – already almost crowded with other guests – and, laughing and excited, stood awaiting her appearance at the head of the stairway. She was there in a moment – her bouquet of orange blossoms in her hand.

The hands of the laughing young girls were instantly extended toward her and she threw the bouquet, saying merrily:

"Catch it who can, and you will be the first to follow me into wedded happiness."

It so happened that Evelyn Leland and Lucilla Raymond stood so near together that their hands almost touched and that the bouquet fell to both – each catching it with one hand. Their success was hailed by a peal of laughter from all present, Chester Dinsmore and Max Raymond particularly seeming to enjoy the sport.

The bride came tripping down the stairway, closely followed by her groom, and the adieus began; not especially sad ones, as so many of the near and dear relatives left behind expected to see them again ere many weeks should pass – and quite a goodly number followed them down to the edge of the bayou, where lay the boat that was to carry them over the first part of their wedding journey. They stepped aboard amid showers of rice, accompanied by an old shoe or two, merry laughter, and many good wishes for a happy and prosperous trip; and as they seated themselves, a beautiful horseshoe formed of lovely orange blossoms fell into the bride's lap.

The little vessel was bountifully adorned with flags of various sizes – by the previous arrangement of Dr. Percival, who knew them both to be devoted admirers of the flag of our Union – and as the vessel moved away there came again from among the trees at a little distance, the sound of a bugle, the drum and the fife playing the "Star-Spangled Banner," than which nothing could have been more appropriate.

As the boat disappeared and the music died away something of a lonely feeling came over many of those left behind, and the guests not related began to make their adieus and depart to their homes. But the relatives tarried somewhat longer, chatting familiarly among themselves and re-examining the many handsome bridal gifts.