"You are right, auntie: I will go," Evelyn answered, more cheerfully than she had spoken since reading her letter. "I will dress at once, but shall not need any help except advice about what I shall wear."

Elsie gave it, and, saying the carriage would be at the door in half an hour, went back to her own apartments, to attend to the proper adornment of her own pretty person.

Soon after her little talk with grandma Elsie and mamma Vi, Lulu, still unable to banish the anxiety which made her restless and uneasy, wandered out into the shrubbery, where she presently met Max.

"I've been all round the place," he said; "and I tell you, Lu, it's in prime order: every thing's as neat as a pin. Don't the grounds look lovely, even after Viamede?"

"Yes," she sighed, glancing round from side to side with a melancholy expression of countenance quite unusual with her.

"What's the matter, sis?" he asked with some surprise: "I hope you're not sick?"

"No, I'm perfectly well," she answered; "but, the prettier the place looks, the sorrier I feel to think I may have to go away and leave it."

"Who says you are to go away?" he demanded,--"not grandma Elsie, or mamma Vi either, I am sure, for they're both too kind; and, in fact, I don't believe anybody here wants to send you off."

"Maybe not," she said, "but I'll have to go if papa says so; and, O Max!

I'm so afraid he will, because of--all that--all the trouble between grandpa Dinsmore and me about the music-lessons."

"I didn't suppose papa had been told about it?" he remarked, half inquiringly.

"Yes," she said: "I confessed every bit of it to him in that letter I wrote at Magnolia Hall."

"Bully for you!" cried Max heartily. "I knew you'd own up at last, like a brick, as you are."

"O Max! you forget that mamma Vi does not approve of slang," she said.

"But I don't deserve a bit of praise for confessing, because I had to.

Papa wrote to me that he was sure I'd been misbehaving,--though n.o.body had told him a single word about it,--and that I must write at once, and tell him every thing."

"Well, I'm glad you did; and I hope he won't be hard on you, Lu. Still, I wouldn't like to be in your place, for papa can be quite severe when he thinks it necessary. I wouldn't fret, though," he added in a consolatory tone, "because there's no use trying to cross the bridge before you come to it, 'specially when you mayn't come at all."

"That's quite true, but it's a great deal easier to preach than to practise," she said. "Maxie, would you be sorry to have me sent away?"

she asked, her voice taking on a beseeching tone.

"Why, of course I should," he said. "We've gone through a good deal together, and you know we've always been rather fond of each other, considering that we're brother and sister," he added laughingly. "Ah, here comes Eva!" and he lifted his hat with a profound bow as a turn in the walk brought them face to face with her.

"O Eva! I'm so glad you've come early!" exclaimed Lulu.

"I too," said Max; "but, if you have any secrets for each other's private ear, I'll be off."

"Your company is always agreeable, Max," Evelyn said with a faint smile, "and I should be sorry to drive you away."

"Thanks," he said; "but I'll have to go, for I hear grandpa Dinsmore calling me."

He hastened to obey the call; and the two girls, each putting an arm about the other's waist, paced to and fro along the gravel-walk.

"How is Fairview looking?" asked Lulu.

"Lovely: it couldn't be in better order, and there are a great many flowers in bloom. One might say just the same of Ion."

"Yes: it is even prettier than Fairview, I have always thought. But that's a sweet place too and aunt Elsie and uncle Lester are delightful to live with. I only wish I was as sure as you are of such a sweet home."

"Don't worry, Lu. I hope your father will let you stay on here," Evelyn said in an affectionate tone; "but, indeed, I don't think you have any reason to envy me."

She ended with so profound a sigh, that Lulu turned a surprised, inquiring look upon her, asking, "Have you had any bad news, Eva? I know you have been looking anxiously for a letter from your mother."

"Yes, it has come: I found it waiting for me at Fairview, and"--She paused for a moment, her heart too full for speech.

"And it was bad news? Oh, I am so sorry!" said Lulu. "I hope it wasn't that she wants you to go away from here--unless I have to go too, and we can be together somewhere."

"No, it was not that--not now. Mamma knows that, because of the way papa made his will, I must stay with uncle Lester till I come of age. She talks of my going to her then; but I cannot,--oh, I never can!

for,--Lulu, she's married again, to an Italian count; and it is not a year since my dear, dear father was taken from us."

Evelyn's voice was tremulous with pain, and she ended with a burst of bitter weeping.

"Oh, how could she!" exclaimed Lulu. "I don't wonder you feel so about it, Eva. A horrid Italian too!" she added, thinking of Signor Foresti.

"I'd never call him father!"

"Indeed, I've no idea of doing that," Eva said indignantly. "I only hope he may never cross my path; and so I--feel as if my mother is lost to me. You are far better off than I, Lulu: you have your own dear father still living, and aunt Vi is so lovely and sweet."

"Yes, I am better off than you," Lulu acknowledged emphatically; "and if I hadn't such a bad temper, always getting me into trouble, I'd be a girl to be envied."

CHAPTER X.

LULU'S SENTENCE.

Pending Capt. Raymond's verdict in regard to Lulu, life at Ion fell into the old grooves, for her as well as the other members of the family.

Studies were taken up again by all the children, including Evelyn Leland, where they had been dropped; Mr. Dinsmore and his daughter giving instruction, and hearing recitations, as formerly.

This interval of waiting lasted for over two months, a longer period of silence on the part of the husband and father than usual; but, as they learned afterward, letters had been delayed in both going and coming.

Capt. Raymond, in his good ship, far out on the ocean, was wearying for news from home, when his pressing want was most opportunely supplied by a pa.s.sing vessel.

She had a heavy mail for the man-of-war, and a generous share of it fell to her commander.

He was soon seated in the privacy of his own cabin, with Violet's letter open in his hand. It was sure to receive his attention before that of any other correspondent.

With a swelling heart he read of the sore trial she had been pa.s.sing through, in the severe illness of Gracie and the babe. Deeply he regretted not having been there to lighten her burdens with his sympathy and help in the nursing; and though, at the time of writing, she was able to report that the little sufferers were considered out of danger, he could not repress a fear, amid his thankfulness, that there might be a relapse, or the dread disease might leave behind it, as it so often does, some lasting ill effect.

He lingered over the letter, re-reading pa.s.sages here and there, but at length laid it aside, and gave his attention to others bearing the same post-mark.

There was a short one from Max, which stirred his heart with fatherly love and pride in his boy; that came next after Violet's: then he opened Lulu's bulky packet.

He sighed deeply as he laid it down after a careful perusal, during which his face had grown stern and troubled, and, rising, paced the cabin to and fro, his hands in his pockets, his head bowed on his breast, which again and again heaved with a deep-drawn sigh.