ELSIE'S WIDOWHOOD
A Sequel to "Elsie's Children"
by
MARTHA FINLEY
"Alone she wanders where with HIM she trod,No arm to stay her, but she leans on God." --O. W. HOLMES
New YorkDodd, Mead and CompanyPublishers
Copyright, 1880, by Dodd, Mead & Company.
PREFACE.
It was not in my heart to give to my favorite child, Elsie, the sorrowsof Widowhood. But the public made the title and demanded the book; andthe public, I am told, is autocratic. So what could I do but write thestory and try to show how the love of Christ in the heart can make lifehappy even under sore bereavement? The apostle says, "I am filled withcomfort, I am exceeding joyful in all our tribulation;" and sincetrouble, trial and affliction are the lot of all in this world of sinand sorrow, what greater kindness could I do you, dear reader, than toshow you where to go for relief and consolation? That this little bookmay teach the sweet lesson to many a tried and burdened soul, is theearnest prayer of your friend,
THE AUTHOR.
CONTENTS.
PAGE
CHAPTER I 7
CHAPTER II 18
CHAPTER III 28
CHAPTER IV 38
CHAPTER V 47
CHAPTER VI 59
CHAPTER VII 68
CHAPTER VIII 80
CHAPTER IX 91
CHAPTER X 101
CHAPTER XI 114
CHAPTER XII 127
CHAPTER XIII 140
CHAPTER XIV 151
CHAPTER XV 165
CHAPTER XVI 178
CHAPTER XVII 194
CHAPTER XVIII 207
CHAPTER XIX 220
CHAPTER XX 236
CHAPTER XXI 247
CHAPTER XXII 263
CHAPTER XXIII 279
CHAPTER XXIV 296
CHAPTER XXV 323
ELSIE'S WIDOWHOOD.
CHAPTER I.
"All love is sweet, Given or returned. Common as light is love, And its familiar voice wearies not ever." --_Shelley._
"Come in, Vi, darling," said Mrs. Travilla's sweet voice, "we will beglad to have you with us."
Violet, finding the door of her mother's dressing-room ajar, had steppedin, then drawn hastily back, fearing to intrude upon what seemed aprivate interview between her and her namesake daughter; Elsie beingseated on a cushion at her mamma's feet, her face half hidden on herlap, while mamma's soft white hand gently caressed her hair and cheek.
"I feared my presence might not be quite desirable just now, mamma,"Violet said gayly, coming forward as she spoke. "But what is thematter?" she asked in alarm, perceiving that tears were trembling in thesoft brown eyes that were lifted to hers. "Dear mamma, are you ill? oris Elsie? is anything wrong with her?"
"She shall answer for herself," the mother said with a sort of tremulousgayety of tone and manner. "Come, bonny lassie, lift your head and tellyour sister of the calamity that has befallen you."
There was a whispered word or two of reply, and Elsie rose hastily andglided from the room.
"Mamma, is she sick?" asked Violet, surprised and troubled.
"No, dear child. It is--the old story:" and the mother sighedinvoluntarily. "We cannot keep her always; some one wants to take herfrom us."
"Some one! oh who, mamma? who would dare? But you and papa will neverallow it?"
"Ah, my child, we cannot refuse; and I understand now, as I never didbefore, why my father looked so sad when yours asked him for hisdaughter."
Light flashed upon Violet. "Ah mamma, is that it? and who--but I think Iknow. It is Lester Leland, is it not?"
Her mother's smile told her that her conjecture was correct.
Violet sighed as she took the seat just vacated by her sister, foldedher arms on her mother's lap, and looked up with loving eyes into herface.
"Dear mamma, I am so sorry for you! for papa too, and for myself. Whatshall I do without my sister? How can you and papa do without her? How_can_ she? I'm sure no one in the world can ever be so dear to _me_ asmy own precious father and mother. And I wish--I wish Lester Leland hadnever seen her."
"No, darling, we should not wish that. These things must be; God in hisinfinite wisdom and goodness has so ordered it. I am sad at the thoughtof parting with my dear child, yet how could I be so selfish as to wishher to miss the great happiness that I have found in the love of husbandand children?"
Violet answered with a doubtful "Yes, mamma, but--"
"Well, dear?" her mother asked with a smile, after waiting in vain forthe conclusion of the sentence.
"I am sure there is not another man in all the world like papa; not onehalf so dear and good and kind and lovable."
"Ah, you may change your mind about that some day. It is precisely whatI used to think and say of my dear father, before I quite learned theworth of yours."
"Ah, yes, I forgot grandpa! he is--almost as nice and dear as papa. Butthere can't be another one, I'm very, every sure of that. Lester Lelandis not half so nice. Oh I don't see how Elsie _can_!"
"How Elsie can what?" asked her father, coming in at that moment, andregarding her with a half quizzical look and smile.
"Leave you and mamma for somebody else, you dear, dear, dearest father!"returned Vi, springing up and running to him to put her arms about hisneck and half smother him with kisses.
"Then we may hope to keep you for a good while yet?" he saidinterrogatively, holding her close and returning her caresses in mosttender fatherly fashion, the mother watching them with beaming eyes.
"Yes, indeed; till you grow quite, quite tired of me, papa."
"And that will never be, my pet. Ah, little wife, how rich we are in ourchildren! Yet not rich enough to part with one without a pang of regret.But we will not trouble about that yet, since the evil day is not verynear."
"Oh isn't it?" cried Violet joyously.
"No; Lester goes to Italy in a few weeks, and it will be one, two, ormaybe three years before he returns to claim his bride."
"Ah, then it is not time to begin to fret about it yet!" cried Vi,gleefully, smiles chasing away the clouds from her brow.
At her age a year seems a long while in anticipation.
"No, daughter, nor ever will be," her father responded with gentlegravity. "I hope my little girl will never allow herself to indulge inso useless and sinful a thing as fretting over either what can or whatcannot be helped."
"Ah, you don't mean to let me fret at all, I see, you dear, wise oldpapa," she returned with a merry laugh. "Now I must find Elsie and passthe lesson over to her. For I shrewdly suspect she's fretting overLester's expected departure."
"Away with you then!" was the laughing rejoinder, and she went dancingand singing from the room.
"The dear, merry, light-hearted child," her father said, looking afterher. "Would that I could keep her always thus."
"Would you if you could, my husband?" Mrs. Travilla asked with a tendersmile, a look of loving reverence, as he sat down by her side.
"No, sweet wife, I would not," he answered emphatically; "for, asRutherford says, 'grace groweth best in winter;' and the Master says,'As many as I love, I rebuke and chasten.'"
"Yes; and 'we must through much tribulation enter into the kingdom ofGod.' Ah, we could never choose for our precious children exemption fromsuch trials and afflictions as He may see necessary to fit them for aneternity of joy
and bliss at His right hand!"
"No; nor for ourselves, nor for each other, my darling. But how well itis that the choice is not for us! How could I ever choose a single pangfor you, beloved? vein of my heart, my life, my light, my joy!"
"Or I for you, my dear, dear husband!" she whispered, as he drew herhead to a resting place upon his breast and pressed a long kiss ofardent affection on her pure white brow. "Ah, Edward, I sometimes fearthat I lean on you too much, love you too dearly! What could I ever dowithout you--husband, friend, counsellor, guide--everything in one?"
Violet went very softly into her sister's dressing-room and stood forseveral minutes watching her with a mixture of curiosity, interest andamusement, before Elsie became aware of her presence.
She sat with her elbow on the window seat, her cheek in her hand, eyesfixed on some distant point in the landscape, but evidently withthoughts intent upon something quite foreign to it; for the color cameand went on the soft cheeks with every breath, and conscious smilesplayed about the full red lips.
At last turning her head and catching her young sister's eye, shecrimsoned to the very forehead.
"O Elsie, don't mind me!" Violet said, springing to her side and puttingher arms around her. "Are you so very happy? You look so, and I am gladfor you; but--but I can't understand it."
"What, Vi?" Elsie asked, half hiding her blushing face on her sister'sshoulder.
"How you can love anybody better than our own dear, darling, preciouspapa and mamma."
"Yes, I--I don't wonder, Vi," blushing more deeply than before, "butthey are not angry--dear, dear mamma and papa--it seems to me I neverloved them half so dearly before--and they say it is quite natural andright."
"Then it must be, of course; but--I wish it was somebody else's sisterand not mine. I can't feel as if a stranger has as much right to my ownsister as I have; and I don't know how to do without you. O Elsie, can'tyou be content to live on always in just the way we have ever since wewere little bits of things?"
Elsie answered with an ardent embrace and a murmured "Darling Vi, don'tbe vexed with me. I'm sure you wouldn't if you knew how dearly, dearly Ilove you."
"Well, I do suppose you can't help it!" sighed Violet, returning theembrace.
"Can't help loving you? No, indeed; who could?" Elsie returnedlaughingly. "You wouldn't wish it, surely? You value my affection?"
"Oh you dear old goose!" laughed Violet; "but that was a wilfulmisunderstanding. None so stupid as those that won't comprehend. NowI'll run away and leave you to your pleasant thoughts. May I tellMolly?"
"Yes," Elsie answered with some hesitation, "she'll have to know soon.Mamma thinks it should not be kept secret, though it must be so longbefore--"
"Ah, that reminds me that I was to pass over to you the lesson papa justgave me--that fretting is never wise or right. I leave you to make theapplication," and she ran gayly away.
So joyous of heart, so full of youthful life and animation was she thatshe seldom moved with sedateness and sobriety in the privacy of home,but went tripping and dancing from room to room, often filling the housewith birdlike warblings or silvery laughter.
Molly Percival sat in her own cheery, pleasant room, pen in hand andsurrounded by books and papers over which she seemed very intent, thoughnow and then she lifted her head and sent a sweeping glance through theopen window, drinking in with delight the beauties of a panorama of hilland dale, sparkling river, cultivated field and wild woodland, to whichthe shifting lights and shadows, as now and again a fleecy, wind-sweptcloud partially obscured the brightness of the sun, lent the charm ofendless variety.
Molly's face was bright with intelligence and good humor. She enjoyedher work and her increasing success. And she had still another happinessin the change that had come over her mother.
Still feeble in intellect, Enna Johnson had become as remarkable forgentleness and docility as she had formerly been for pride, arroganceand self-will.
She had grown very fond of Molly, too, very proud of her attainments andher growing fame, and asked no greater privilege than to sit in the roomwith her, watching her at her work, and ever ready to wait upon and doher errands.
And so she, too, had her home at Ion, made always welcome by itslarge-hearted, generous master and mistress.
"Busy, as usual, I see," remarked Violet, as she came tripping in."Molly, you are the veriest bee, and richly deserve to have your hivefull of the finest honey. I'm the bearer of a bit of news veryinteresting to Elsie and me, in fact I suppose I might say to all thefamily. Have you time to hear it?"
"Yes, indeed, and to thank you for your kindness in bringing it," Mollyanswered, laying down her pen and leaning back in a restful attitude."But sit down first, won't you?"
"Thank you, no; it's time to dress for dinner. I must just state thefact and run away," said Violet, pulling out a tiny gold watch set withbrilliants. "It is that Elsie and Lester Leland are engaged."
"And your father and mother approve?" asked Molly in some surprise.
"Yes, of course; Elsie would never think of engaging herself to anybodywithout their approval. But why should they be expected to object?"
"I don't know, only--he's poor, and most wealthy people would considerthat a very great objection."
Violet laughed lightly. "What an odd idea! If there is wealth on oneside, there's the less need of it on the other, I should think. And heis intelligent, sensible, talented, amiable and good; rather handsometoo."
"And so you are pleased, Vi?"
"Yes, no, I don't know," and the bright face clouded slightly. "Iwish--but if people must marry, he'll do as well as another to rob me ofmy sister, I suppose."
She tripped away, and Molly, dropping her head upon her folded arms onthe table, sighed profoundly.
Some one touched her on the shoulder, and her mother's voice asked,"What's the matter, Molly? You don't envy her that poor artist fellow,do you? You needn't: there'll be a better one coming along for you oneof these days."
"No, no; not for me! not for me!" gasped the girl. "I've nothing to dowith love or marriage, except to picture them for others. It's likemixing delicious draughts for other lips, while I--I may not tastethem--may not have a single drop to cool my parched tongue, or quench myburning thirst."
At the moment life seemed to stretch out before her as a dreary waste,unbrightened by a single flower--a long, toilsome road to be trod inloneliness and pain. Her heart uttered the old plaint: "They seem tohave everything and I nothing."
Then her cheek burned with shame, and penitent tears filled her eyes, asbetter thoughts came crowding into her mind.
Had she not a better than an earthly love to cheer, comfort, and sustainher on her way?--a love that would never fail, a Friend who would neverleave nor forsake her; whose sympathy was perfect; who was alwaystouched with the feeling of her infirmities, and into whose ear shecould ever whisper her every sorrow, perplexity, anxiety, certain ofhelp; for His love and power were infinite.
And the minor blessings of her lot were innumerable: the love of kindredand friends, and the ability to do good and give pleasure by theexercise of her God-given talents, not the least.
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