CHAPTER THIRD.
"'Tis a goodly scene-- Yon river, like a silvery snake, lays out His coil i' the sunshine lovingly." --HUNT.
The family at Ion presently fell into the old routine of study, work andplay, Elsie resuming the duties of governess; but as the heated term drewon, she and the little ones, especially the babe, began to droop.
"You must go north for the summer," said Dr. Barton, "start as soon aspossible and don't return till October."
"Would you recommend the seashore?" asked Mr. Travilla.
"H'm! that might answer very well, but mountain air would, I think, bebetter."
"Oh then, mamma!" cried Vi, who was present and had been an eager buthitherto silent listener, "won't you accept Aunt Lucy's invitation?"
"Perhaps, daughter," Elsie said smiling indulgently into the bright littleface, "but we will take time to consider what will be best."
"Where is that?" asked the doctor, "Lucy Ross, I suppose, but I'veforgotten where they live."
"On the banks of the Hudson a few miles south of Newburgh. The Crags theycall their place, and a beautiful one it is. 'Twas only yesterday Ireceived a letter from Lucy, urging us to come and spend the summer withher."
"I should say go by all means," said the doctor, taking leave.
There were reasons for hesitation on the part of the careful parents ofwhich the physician knew nothing. The young Rosses, all unused to control,were a willful set not likely to exert a beneficial influence over otherchildren; that was the demur.
However the final decision was in favor of the visit, and a few days laterthey set out upon their journey; Mr. Horace Dinsmore taking charge ofthem, as business made it inconvenient for Mr. Travilla to leave just atthat time.
From New York they passed up the Hudson in a steamboat; the carriage fromthe Crags was found in waiting at the landing, and a short drive broughtthem to the house, which stood high up above the river, in the midst ofmagnificent mountain scenery.
The Ion children, taught from early infancy to notice the beauties ofnature, were in ecstasies of delight, exclaiming anew at every turn in theroad, calling each other's, mamma's or grandpa's attention to thesparkling river, the changing shadows on the mountainsides, here abeetling crag, there a waterfall or secluded glen. Having rested theprevious night, sleeping soundly at a hotel, they were not wearied withtravel but seemed fresher now than when they left their home.
Lucy and her little flock, gathered on the front porch to receive theirguests, gave them a warm welcome. The two ladies had lost none of theaffection for each other which had been one of the happinesses of theirchildhood and early youth, and each loved the children of the other forthe mother's sake if not for their own. They numbered the same, butSophie, Lucy's youngest, was now in her fifth year, and Baby Lily wasgreeted with many expressions and demonstrations of delight.
Lucy excused her husband's absence: he was away on business, she said, butwould be at home before night.
"Where's Phil?" asked Eddie, turning to Gertrude.
"Oh, he's at boarding-school, don't you know?" she answered. "He'll behome in vacation; but that doesn't begin for two weeks yet."
Mr. Dinsmore tarried for a few days, then returned to the neighborhood ofPhiladelphia, where he had left his wife and Rosie, who were visitingtheir northern relatives.
Miss Fisk was still governess at the Crags, and when the children had hada week of play together, it was thought best by the mammas, that two hoursof each morning should be devoted to lessons.
Knowing Miss Fisk to be not only well educated and refined, but also aconscientious and good woman, Elsie was willing to entrust her children toher care; the more so, because Lily in her feeble state, required much ofher own time and attention.
In the midst of a beautiful grove of oaks and maples, on the side of ahill, scarce more than a stone's throw from the mansion, and within fullview of its windows, stood a small brick building owned by Mr. Ross, andused as a summer schoolroom for the children.
It was a cool shady spot, enlivened by the songs of the wild birds whobuilt their nests in the trees, and the musical tinkle of a littlewaterfall that came tumbling down from the heights above not half-a-dozenyards from the door.
Mr. Ross had furnished the room with comfortable and convenient chairs anddesks, and Lucy had made it pretty and tasteful with white muslin curtainsand neatly papered walls of a soft neutral tint, enlivened by a few gaylycolored pictures. Woodwork and floor were stained a rich dark brown,bright soft rugs were scattered here and there; and altogether the placewas as inviting as a lady's parlor.
The Ion children were well content to spend here two or three hours ofthat part of the day when the sun was too hot for them to be exposed tohis rays with safety and comfort: the others found lessons made much moreagreeable by the companionship of their young guests, and Miss Fisk wasglad to take them under her charge, because by their intelligence theyadded greatly to the interest of her work, while their respectful obedientbehavior exerted an excellent influence upon her other pupils.
Before leaving home, Elsie, after careful and prayerful consideration,thought it best to have a plain talk with her older children about thetemptations that were likely to assail them during their visit to theCrags.
They had had some past experience of the ways of Lucy's children, and sheknew they had not forgotten it; and reminding them of the Bibledeclaration, that "evil communications corrupt good manners," she badethem, while refraining as far as possible from judging their littlefriends, at the same time to carefully avoid following their example inanything they knew to be wrong.
"Mamma," said Vi, "perhaps sometimes we mightn't know if it was wrong!"
"I think you will, daughter, if you take a moment to think; and if you aredoubtful, you may be pretty sure it is wrong."
"Mamma, we mustn't tell tales to you?"
"No, dear; but perhaps you can consult me without that; and do not forgetthat you can always lift up your heart to God for help to know and do theright."
"Yes, mamma," returned the little girl thoughtfully, "and I do believeElsie will 'most always be there and know what's right."
"I'm not sure," said her sister, with a grave shake of the head, "I wishwe could always have mamma by to tell us."
"But mamma cannot be with you always, darlings," Elsie said, regardingthem with yearning tenderness, "and so, as your papa and I have often toldyou, you must learn to think and decide for yourselves; about some thingsnow, and about others as you grow older and wiser. Some things the Bibletells us plainly, and in regard to those we have nothing to do but obey."
Elsie's children Page 3
