The Two Elsies

by Martha Finley

  CHAPTER VI.

  "Farewell; God knows when we shall meet again." SHAKSPEARE.

  Laura said no more about breaking the will, but her manner toward Lesterand Elsie was so cold and repellant that they were not sorry that sheshut herself up in her own room during the greater part of each day whilethey and she remained at Crag Cottage.

  Had they consulted only their own inclination, they would have takentheir own departure immediately after seeing Eric laid in his grave; butLester's duties as executor and guardian made it necessary for them tostay on for some weeks.

  The cottage was a part of Evelyn's portion of the estate, but Laura wasgiven the right to make it her home so long as she remained Eric's widow.

  Laura knew this, having read the will, but as that instrument made nomention of Eric's desire that his daughter should reside with herguardian, she was not aware of that fact; and feeling well nigh certainthat it would rouse her anger and opposition, Lester dreaded making thedisclosure.

  But while perplexing himself with the question how best to approach heron the subject, he found among his brother's papers, a sealed letteraddressed to her.

  Calling Evelyn, he put it into her hand, bidding her carry it to hermother.

  Half an hour later the little girl was again at his side, asking intearful tones, "Uncle Lester, must mamma and I be separated?"

  He was in the library, seated before a table, and seemed very busy over apile of papers laid thereon; but pushing back his chair, he threw his armround her waist and drew her to his knee.

  "No, my dear child, not necessarily," he said, softly caressing her hairand cheek; "your mother will be made welcome at Fairview if she sees fitto go with us."

  "But she wants to stay here and keep me with her; and it's my home, youknow, the dear home where everything reminds me of--papa, Will you let mestay?"

  "Do you really wish it, Evelyn? do you not desire to carry out the dyingwishes of the father you loved so dearly?"

  "Yes, uncle," she said, the tears stealing down her cheeks, "but--perhapshe wouldn't care now, and mamma is so sorely distressed at the thought ofseparation; and--and it hurts me too; for she is my mother, and I have nofather now--or brother, or sister."

  "You must let me be a father to you, my poor, dear child," he said inmoved tones, and drawing her closer; "I will do my utmost to fill hisplace to you, and I hope you will come to me always with your troublesand perplexities, feeling the same assurance of finding sympathy and helpthat you did in carrying them to him."

  "Oh, thank you!" she responded. "I think you are a dear, kind uncle, andvery much like papa; you remind me of him very often in your looks, andwords and ways."

  "I am glad to hear you say so," he answered. "I had a great admirationfor that dear brother, and for his sake as well as her own, I am veryfond of his little daughter. And now about this question. I shall notcompel your obedience to your father's wishes--at least not for thepresent--but shall leave the decision to your own heart and conscience.Take a day or two to think over the matter, and then let me hear yourdecision.

  "In the meantime, if you can persuade your mamma to go with us toFairview, that will make it all smooth and easy for you."

  "Thank you, dear uncle," she said, as he released her and turned to hiswork again, "I will go now and try what I can do to induce mamma toaccept your kind invitation. And please excuse me for interrupting youwhen you were so busy."

  "I am never too busy to attend to you, Evelyn," he returned in a kindlytone; "come freely to me whenever you will."

  Crossing the hall, Evelyn noticed the carriage of an intimate friend ofher mother drawn up before the entrance.

  "Mrs. Lang must be calling on mamma," she said to herself; and pausingnear the half-open parlor door, she saw them sitting side by side on asofa, conversing in earnest, through subdued tones.

  The call proved a long one. Evelyn waited with what patience she might,vainly trying to interest herself in a book; her thoughts much too fullof her own near future to admit of her doing so.

  At last Mrs. Lang took her departure, and Evelyn, following her motherinto her bedroom, gave a detailed account of her late interview with heruncle.

  "Mamma dear, you will go with us, will you not?" she concludedpersuasively.

  "No, I shall not!" was the angry rejoinder. "Spend weeks and months in adull country place, with no more enlivening society than that of youruncle and aunt? indeed, no! You will have to choose between them and me;if you love them better than you do your own mother, elect, by all means,to forsake me and go with them."

  "Mamma," remonstrated poor Evelyn, tears of wounded feeling in her eyes,"it is not a question of loving you or them best, but of obeying myfather's dying wish."

  For a moment Mrs. Leland seemed to be silently musing; then she said, "Iwithdraw my request, Evelyn. I have decided upon new plans for myself,and should prefer to have you go with your uncle. You needn't look hurt,child; I'm sure it is what you have seemed to desire."

  "Mamma," said the little girl, going up to her, standing by the side ofher easy-chair, and gazing down beseechingly into her eyes, "why will youpersist in speaking so doubtfully of my love for you? It hurts me, mamma;it almost breaks my heart; especially now that you are all I have left."

  "Well there, you need not fret; of course I know you must have somenatural affection for your mother," returned Laura carelessly.

  "Here, sit down on this stool at my feet, and you shall hear about mychange of plans.

  "Mrs. Lang called to tell me they are going to Europe--will sail in afortnight--and to ask me to accompany them; and I have accepted theinvitation. You were included in it also, but I shall have less care if Ileave you behind; and though I have always intended that you should havethe trip some day, I think it much the wiser plan to defer it for a fewyears till you are old enough to appreciate and make the best use of allits advantages.

  "Beside, your uncle being your guardian, his consent would have to begained, and I have no mind to stoop to ask it."

  "Mamma, I am satisfied to stay," said Evelyn; "I should be very loath toadd to your cares, or lessen in any way your enjoyment."

  It was with no slight feeling of relief that Lester and Elsie heard ofthis new determination on the part of their sister-in-law; for herbehavior toward them thus far had been such as to make her presence intheir home anything but desirable.

  With an aching heart Evelyn watched and aided in the preparations for hermother's departure, which would take place some weeks earlier than herown and that of her uncle and aunt.

  But naturally quiet and undemonstrative, she usually kept her feelingslocked up within her own breast, and in consequence was sometimes accusedby her mother of being cold-hearted and indifferent.

  Yet, as the day of separation drew near, Laura grew more affectionatetoward her child than she had ever been before.

  That was joy to Evelyn, but made the parting more bitter when it came.Mother and child wept in each other's arms, and Evelyn whispered with abursting sob, "O mamma, if you would only give it up and go with us!"

  "Nonsense, child! it is quite too late for that now," returned Laura,giving her a last embrace and hurrying into the carriage which was toconvey her to the depot; for she was to travel by rail to New York City,and there take the steamer for Europe.

  Lester went with her to the city, to see her safe on board the vessel,leaving his wife and child behind. Elsie's tender heart was full of pityfor Evelyn--robbed of both parents, and left lonely and forlorn.

  "Dear child, be comforted," she said, embracing her tenderly, as thecarriage disappeared from sight down the drive, "you have not departedfrom your best Friend. 'When my father and mother forsake me, then theLord will take me up.'

  "And be assured your uncle and I will do all in our power to make youhappy. I am not old enough to be a mother to you, but let me be as anolder sister.

  "And I will share my dear mother with you," she added with a sweet,bright smile. "Every
body loves mamma, and she has a heart big enough tomother all the motherless children with whom she comes in contact."

  "Thank you, dear Aunt Elsie," Evelyn responded, smiling through hertears, then hastily wiping them away; "I am sure I shall love your mammaand be very grateful if she will count me among her children while my ownmamma is so far away. Sure too, that I shall be as happy with you andUncle Lester as I could be anywhere without papa."

  "I hope so, indeed," Elsie said; "and that you will find pleasantcompanions in the Ion young people. Both my sister Rose and Lulu Raymondmust be near your age; you probably come in between them."

  "And I suppose they are very nice girls?" remarked Evelyn, inquiringly."

  "_I_ think they are," said Elsie; "they have their faults like the restof us, but many good qualities too."

  Desirous to divert Evelyn's thoughts from her sorrows, Elsie went on togive a lively description of Ion, and a slight sketch of the characterand appearance of each member of the family, doing full justice to everygood trait and touching but lightly upon faults and failings. Evelynproving an interested listener. Fairview and then Viamede came under asimilar review, and Elsie told the story of her mother's birth and herinfant years passed in that lovely spot. After that of her honeymoon andof the visits paid by the family in later days.

  "What a very sweet lady your mamma must be, Aunt Elsie," Evelyn remarkedin a pause in the narrative; "I am glad I shall see and know her."

  "Yes, dear; you well may be," Elsie responded with a happy smile; "'noneknew her but to love her,' none can live in her constant companionshipwithout finding it one of the greatest blessings of their lives."

  "I think you must resemble her, auntie," said Evelyn, with anaffectionate, admiring look into Elsie's bright, sweet face."

  "It is my desire to do so," she answered, flushing with pleasure. "Mydear, precious mother! I could hardly bear to leave her, Eva, even foryour uncle's sake."

  "But I am very glad you did," quickly returned the little girl. "I am soglad to have you for my aunt."

  "Thank you, dear," was the pleased rejoinder. "I have never regretted mychoice, or felt ashamed of having gone all the way to Italy to join mysick and suffering betrothed and become his wife, that I might nurse himback to health."

  "Oh, did you?" exclaimed Evelyn, looking full of interest and delight,"please tell me the whole story, won't you? I should so like to hear it."

  Elsie willingly complied with the request, and it would be difficult tosay which enjoyed the story most--she who told it, or she who listened.

  "I think you were brave, and kind and good, Aunt Elsie," was Evelyn'scomment when the tale was told.

  "I had a strong motive--the saving of a life dearer to me than my own,"Elsie responded, half absently, as if her thoughts were busy with thepast.

  Both were silent for a little, Evelyn gazing with mournful eyes upon thelovely grounds and beautiful scenery about her home.

  "Aunt Elsie," she said at length, "do you know what is to be done withthe house while mamma and I are away? If it should be left longunoccupied it will fall into decay, and the grounds become a wildernessof weeds."

  "Your mother suggested having it rented just as it stands--readyfurnished," replied Elsie; "but she feared--as do we also--that strangersmight abuse the property; then, as I thought it over, it occurred to methat we might rent it ourselves for a summer residence; and when awayfrom it, leave it in charge of Patrick and his wife, who have no childrento do mischief, and who have lived so long in the family--so your mothertold us--that their character for trustworthiness is well established."

  "Yes, indeed it is!" said Evelyn; "and that seems to me the best planthat could possibly be devised except that--"

  "Well dear, except what?" Elsie asked pleasantly, as the little girlpaused without finishing her sentence.

  "I fear it will be a great expense to you and Uncle," was thehalf-hesitating reply, "and that you will get but little good of it,being so far away nearly all the year."

  "You are very thoughtful for one so young," said Elsie in surprise.

  "It is because papa talked so much with me about his affairs, and theuses of money, the difficulty of earning and keeping it, and the bestways of economising. He said he wanted to teach me how to take care ofmyself, if ever I were left alone in the world."

  "That was wise and kind," said Elsie; "and I think you must have paidgood attention to his teachings. But about the expense we shall incur inmaking the proposed arrangement: there is a large family of us, and I donot doubt that we shall have help with both the use of the house and thepaying of the rent."

  "And your mamma is very rich I've heard." remarked Evelyn halfinquiringly.

  "Very rich and very generous," returned her aunt.

  "Are we to leave soon? and to go directly to your home?" asked Evelyn.

  "It will be probably several weeks before your uncle can get everythingarranged, and then he wants to spend some time sketching the sceneryabout Lake George and among the Adirondacks," replied Elsie; "and we areto go with him. Shall you like it?"

  "Oh, yes indeed!" Evelyn exclaimed, her face lighting up with pleasure,then with gathering tears and in low, tremulous tones, "Papa had promisedto take me to both places some day," she said.