Chapter Twenty-second.
"I would that thou might'st ever be As beautiful as now;
That time might ever leave as free Thy yet unwritten brow." --Willis.
"When will my grandpa come?" little Elsie asked again and again, andfinding that no one could tell her, she set herself to watch thepassing boats, often coaxing her mammy out upon the lawn or down to thevery water's edge, in her eagerness for a sight of him; her first lookinto the face of a relative.
She was fond of Mrs. Murray as she had been of Mr. Cameron, and clungwith ardent affection to her mammy, yet the baby heart yearned forparental love, and naturally she expected it from her grandfather.
Had she heard that her father was coming, she would have been wild withjoy; the arrival of her grandfather seemed the next best thing thatcould happen.
Mildred knew nothing of the child's anticipations, yet her heart achedfor the little creature as she perceived how determined Mr. Dinsmorewas to shut her out from his.
"She's a fortunate little miss," he remarked of her, as they came insight of a sugar and orange plantation exceeding in size and fertilityalmost any they had passed, and the captain of the boat, pointing itout, said, "That's Viamede; the old Grayson place."
They were sweeping by a large sugar house; then came an immense orangeorchard, and then a long and wide stretch of lawn, with the loveliestcarpet of velvety green and most magnificent shade trees they had everbeheld; half concealing, with their great arms and abundant foliage, alordly mansion set far back among them.
So surpassingly lovely was the whole scene, that for a moment Mildredcould have echoed her uncle's words, and almost found it in her heartto envy the young heiress of it all; but the next she said to herself,"No, no, not for all this would I be so lonely and loveless as she,poor, little, forlorn girlie!"
The boat rounded to at the little pier. Close by, in the shade of agreat oak, stood an elderly colored woman with a child in her arms--alittle girl of fairy-like form, and face perfect in outline andfeature, a complexion of dazzling brilliance, a countenance radiantwith delight--as she watched the travelers stepping ashore.
"This is she, I presume," Mr. Dinsmore said coolly, halting in front ofthe two. "What's your name, child?"
"Elsie Dinsmore," she answered, her lip quivering, the large soft eyesfilling with tears. "I fought it was my grandpa comin'."
"And so it is," he said, slightly touched by her evidentdisappointment. "Have you a kiss for me?"
For answer she threw both arms about his neck, as he bent toward her,and pressed her red lips to his.
He disengaged himself rather hastily, stepping back to give place toMildred, who, gazing with delight upon the beautiful little creaturewas eagerly awaiting her turn.
"You darling!" she cried, clasping the child in a warm embrace. "Thisis Cousin Milly; and she is going to love you dearly, dearly!"
"Tank you, Miss," said Aunt Chloe, with tears in her eyes. "And welcometo Viamede, Miss; welcome, Massa," dropping a courtesy to each.
Mrs. Murray and several servants now came hurrying toward them; therewere more courtesies and welcomes; the baggage was seized and quicklytransported to the house; the travelers, Mrs. Murray, and Aunt Chloewith her little charge, following it leisurely.
Mildred was filled with delight at the beauty surrounding her, yet moreattracted by the child than by all else. She turned toward her withan affectionate smile, and the little one, now walking by her nurse'sside, returning it with one of rare sweetness, ran to her and slipped atiny, soft, white hand into hers.
"Is she not beautiful, uncle?" Mildred asked with enthusiasm, at thefirst opportunity for doing so without being overheard.
"She's no Dinsmore," he said coldly; "not a trace of Horace's looksabout her; must be all Grayson, I presume."
"Oh, how can he!" thought Mildred, "how can he harden his heart soagainst anything so gentle and beautiful!"
They were standing on the veranda for a moment, admiring the view andwatching the departure of the boat which had brought them; while Mrs.Murray was busied in giving directions in regard to the disposal oftheir luggage.
A suit of delightful apartments had been appropriated to Mildred'suse during her stay. Conducted thither by Aunt Chloe and her nursling,she took possession with great content, and with the assistance of askilled waiting maid, also placed at her service, soon arrayed her neatfigure in a becoming dinner dress, little Elsie and her mammy lookingon admiringly the while.
"Isn't my cousin _so_ pretty, mammy?" whispered the little one.
Mildred heard, and turning with a pleased smile, held out her hand tothe child. "Won't you come and sit on cousin's lap a little while? Ican tell you about your dear papa; for I know him."
The child's face grew radiant, and she hastened to accept theinvitation.
"Oh," she said, "please do! Will he come here soon? I want to see mypapa! I want to kiss him and love him."
The soft eyes filled with tears, and the red lips quivered.
Mildred clasped the little form close in her arms and kissed the sweet,fair face over and over, exclaiming in tremulous tones, "You dear,precious baby! if he could only see you, I'm sure he couldn't helploving you with all his heart!"
The travelers were summoned to the dinner table, and little Elsiepartook with them, conducting herself with the utmost propriety.
"She seems a well-behaved child," her grandfather remarked graciously."How old are you, my dear? can you tell?"
"I's four," piped the bird-like voice; "I's a big girl now, grandpa;too big to be naughty; but sometimes I's not very good."
"Ah! that's honest," he said, with an amused smile. "Well, what do theydo to you when you're naughty?"
"When I was a little girl, mammy put me in de corner sometimes."
"And what now you are so large?"
"She jus' say, 'Jesus not pleased wis my darlin' child, when shenaughty.'"
"But you don't mind that, do you?" he asked curiously.
She looked at him with innocent, wondering eyes. "Elsie loves Jesus;Elsie wants Jesus to love her and make her His little lamb; she asksHim to do it every day."
"Stuff!" he muttered, in a tone of annoyance; but tears of joy andthankfulness welled up in Mildred's eyes.
"Blessed baby!" she thought, "you will not have a lonely, lovelesslife if you have so soon begun to seek the dear Saviour. Ah, how mymother's heart will rejoice to hear this!"
On coming to the table the little one had folded her tiny hands, andbending with closed eyes over her plate, murmured a short grace; butMr. Dinsmore, busying himself in carving a fowl, did not seem to noticeit; yet it had not escaped him; he was watching the child furtively,and with far more interest than he would have liked to own.
"I'm afraid they're making a canting hypocrite of her," he said toMildred when they had retired to the drawing-room.
"O, uncle, do not say that!" exclaimed Mildred. "It is just the way mydear mother, whom you admire so much, trains and teaches her children."
"Ah!" he said, "then I shall have to retract."
"What pretty manners she has, uncle; both at the table and elsewhere,"remarked Mildred; "she handles knife, fork and spoon as deftly aspossible, and is so gentle and refined in all she does and says."
"Yes," he said with some pride, "I trust an uncouth, ill-manneredDinsmore might be considered an anomaly, indeed."
"Then you acknowledge that she is a Dinsmore?" Mildred said playfully.
"Have I ever denied that she was Horace's child?" he answered with asmile.
"I wish he could see her at this moment. I am sure he could not helpfeeling that he had good reason to be proud of her," Mildred said,approaching a window that looked out upon the lawn, where the littleone was wandering about gathering flowers; "see, uncle! is not everymovement full of grace?"
"You seem to be quite bewitched with her," he returned, good humoredly,following the direction of her glance. "Children's movements are notap
t to be ungraceful, I think.
"This is a fine old mansion," he went on, "and seems to be wellfurnished throughout. Have you been in the library? No? Then come; wewill visit it now. Your heart will rejoice at sight of the well-filledbook shelves.
"Ah, I knew it!" watching the expression of keen satisfaction withwhich she regarded them, when he had taken her there.
They consisted largely of very valuable works in every branch ofliterature, and Mildred's sole regret was that she would have so littletime to examine and enjoy them.
There were also some few fine paintings and beautiful pieces ofstatuary in the room, and indeed scattered through all the principalrooms of the house; the drawing-room being especially rich in them.
They lingered for some time over these works of art, then went outupon the veranda, presently wandering on from that to the lawn, wherethey strolled about a little, and finally seated themselves under abeautiful magnolia.
"Ah, see what a pretty picture they make!" Mildred exclaimed, glancingin the direction of another, at some little distance, in whose shadeAunt Chloe was seated upon the grass with Elsie in her lap, both busiedwith the flowers they had been gathering.
"Yes," said Mr. Dinsmore; "and what a striking contrast! the child soyoung, and delicately fair, the nurse so black and elderly; she seemsmuch attached to her charge."
"Yes, indeed! You do not think of separating them, uncle?"
"Certainly not! why should I?"
Mildred answered only with a pleased look, for at that moment littleElsie left her mammy and came running with a lovely bouquet in eachhand.
"One for you, grandpa, and one for Cousin Milly," she said, dropping agraceful little courtesy as she presented them.
"Thank you, dear; how pretty they are!" Mildred said, kissing her.
"Humph! what shall I do with it?" Mr. Dinsmore asked, accepting his.
"Put it in your buttonhole," said the child. "That's the way uncledoes."
"Uncle? who is he? You have none that you ever saw, so far as I know."
"Massa Cameron, sah," explained Aunt Chloe, coming up; "he always tolemy chile call him dat."
"Well, she needn't do so any more. I don't like it. Do you hear?" toElsie, "don't call that man uncle again. He was no relation whatever toyou."
His tone spoke displeasure, and the little one drew back to the shelterof her mammy's arms, with a frightened look, her lip trembling, hersoft, brown eyes full of tears.
"There, there!" he said, more gently, "don't cry; I'm not angry withyou; you knew no better."
He rose and wandered away toward the rear of the mansion, and Mildreddrew Elsie to a seat upon her lap, caressing her tenderly.
"Sweet little girlie," she said, "cousin loves you dearly, already,and cannot bear to see tears in those eyes. Tell me about your sweet,pretty mamma."
"Here she is, cousin. Don't you love her too?" prattled the babe,drawing forth the miniature from her bosom, and quickly forgetting hermomentary grief in displaying it. "She's gone up to heaven to stay wisJesus, and some day he'll take Elsie there too."
"Mildred," said Mr. Dinsmore, coming back, "I hear there are finesaddle horses in the stables. If I order two of them brought round,will you ride over the plantation with me?"
"Gladly!" she said, putting the child gently down, and rising withalacrity. "I will go at once and don my riding habit. You shall tell methe rest another time, little pet."
Already enthusiastic admirers of Viamede, they returned from their ridedoubly impressed with its beauties.
"It seems an earthly paradise," Mildred wrote to her mother, "and thelittle owner is the loveliest, most fairy-like little creature you canimagine--so sweet, so gentle, so beautiful! and good as she is pretty.Mrs. Murray tells me she is generosity itself, and she doesn't believethere is a grain of selfishness in her nature. Elsie showed me hermamma's miniature, and it is so sweet and beautiful that I do notwonder Cousin Horace lost his heart at first sight."
But it was not until the next day that this letter was written. Mildredhad enough to do that day in looking about her and making acquaintancewith Elsie and her attendants.
After tea, Mr. Dinsmore being closeted with the overseer, she made herway to the nursery, coaxed the little one into her lap again--thoughindeed no great amount of persuasion was needed--and amused her for anhour or two with stories and nursery rhymes.
But the child's bedtime drew near, and with a tender good-night,a lingering, loving caress, Mildred left her and went down to thedrawing-room.
Her uncle was not there, and passing out to the veranda, she fellinto chat with Mrs. Murray, whom she found seated there enjoying thebeautiful scenery and the soft evening air.
Their talk turned naturally upon Viamede and the Grayson family;particularly Horace Dinsmore's wife, the last of the race; Mrs. Murraygiving many details that were of great interest to her hearer.
"She was very lovely," she said, "baith in person and in character; asweet, earnest, child-like Christian; and the bairn is wonderfullylike her. She seemed to me a lamb of the fold from her very birth; andnae doot in answer to the mother's prayers. Ye ken, Miss Keith, thatshe lived scarce a week after her babe was born, and all her anxietywas that it should be trained up in the nurture and admonition o' theLord, her constant prayer that He would be pleased to mak' it His own.
"The bit bairnie isna perfect, of course, but quite as near it as grownfolk. It's very evident that she tries to please the blessed Saviour;that she grieves when she has done wrong, and canna rest till she'sbeen awi' by hersel' to beg His forgiveness.
"I tell her whiles aboot the new heart God gives to his children, andthat He will give it to a' such as ask earnestly; and she will lookup in my face with those great innocent eyes and answer, 'Yes, Mrs.Murray; and I do ask earnestly every day'."
The old lady brushed away a tear, and her voice was slightly tremulousas she added, "Mr. Cameron used to fret a bit whiles, lest she was toogude to live:--like her mother before her, he wad say. But I cannathink early piety any sign that life will be short. Except, indeed,that when the work o' grace is fully done glory follows. She's comeo' a God-fearing race, Miss Keith, and the Lord's aye faithful to Hispromise;--showing mercy to thousands o' generations o' them that loveHim and keep His commandments."
Mildred at Roselands Page 22
