"Do you think that would have been the better plan?"
"No, sir. I think you'd have had to 'most kill me before I'd have given up, but if I'd been in your place I couldn't have had patience to wait."
"You need to cultivate the grace of patience, then," he said gravely. "Now come with me to Max's room, and let us see if we can pack up his goods and chattels."
"Papa, I almost think I could pack it myself after watching you pack all these others."
"Possibly; but I shall do it more quickly, with you to help in getting all the things together."
Every one was ready in due season for departure, and that night the two cottages that for months past had been so full of light and life, were dark, silent and deserted.
Arriving in Boston, the whole party took rooms at one of the princ.i.p.al hotels. There they spent the night, but the greater part of the next day was pa.s.sed on board the captain's vessel.
The day after the parting came; a very hard one for him, his young wife and children. Little feeble Gracie cried herself sick, and Violet found it necessary to put aside the indulgence of her own grief in order to comfort the nearly heart-broken child, who clung to her as she might have done to her own mother.
Max and Lulu made no loud lament, but their quiet, subdued manner and sad countenances told of deep and sincere sorrow, and, in truth, they often felt ready to join in Gracie's oft-repeated cry, "Oh, how can I do without my dear, dear papa?"
But they were with kind friends. Every one in the party showed them sympathy, pretty presents were made them, and they were taken to see all the sights of the city likely to interest them.
Grandma Elsie particularly endeared herself to them at this time by her motherly tenderness and care, treating them as if they were her own children.
Their father had given each two parting gifts, a handsome pocket Bible, with the injunction to commit at least one verse to memory every day, and a pretty purse with some spending money in it; for he knew they would enjoy making purchases for themselves when visiting the city stores with the older people.
So they did; and Lulu, who was generous to a fault, had soon spent her all in gifts for others; a lovely new doll for Gracie, some books for Max, a bottle of perfumery for "Mamma Vi," and a toy for Walter.
Violet was much pleased with the present to herself as an evidence of growing affection. She received it with warm thanks and a loving embrace.
"My dear child, it was very kind in you to think of me!" she said. "It makes me hope you have really given me a little place in your heart, dear."
"Oh, yes, Mamma Vi, indeed I have!" cried the little girl, returning the embrace. "Surely we ought all to love you when you love our dear father so much, and he loves you, too."
"Certainly," said Max, who was standing by; "we couldn't help loving so sweet and pretty a lady if she was nothing at all to us and we lived in the same house with her, and how can we think she's any less nice and sweet just because she's married to our father?"
"And how can I help loving you because you are the children of my dear husband?" responded Violet, taking the boy's hand and pressing it warmly in hers.
Some hours later Violet accidentally overheard part of a conversation between her little sister Rose and Lulu.
"Yes," Rosie was saying, "mamma gives me fifty cents a week for spending money."
"Ah, how nice!" exclaimed Lulu. "Papa often gives us some money, but not regularly, and Max and I have often talked together about how much we would like to have a regular allowance. I'd be delighted, even if it wasn't more than ten cents."
Violet had been wishing to give the children something, and trying to find out what would be most acceptable, so was greatly pleased with the hint given her by this little speech of Lulu's.
The child came presently to her side to bid her good-night. Violet put an arm around her, and kissing her affectionately, said, "Lulu, I have been thinking you might like to have an allowance of pocket money, as Rosie has. Would you?"
"O Mamma Vi! I'd like it better than anything else I can think of!" cried the little girl, her face sparkling with delight.
"Then you shall have it and begin now," Violet said, taking out her purse and putting two bright silver quarters into Lulu's hand.
"Oh, thank you, mamma, how good and kind in you!" cried the child.
"Max shall have the same," said Violet, "and Gracie half as much for the present. When she is a little older it shall be doubled. Don't you want the pleasure of telling Max, and taking this to him?" she asked, putting another half dollar into Lulu's hand.
"Oh yes, ma'am! Thank you very much!"
Max was on the farther side of the room--a good-sized parlor of the hotel where they were staying--very much absorbed in a story-book; Lulu approached him softly, a gleeful smile on her lips and in her eyes, and laid his half dollar on the open page.
"What's that for?" he asked, looking round at her.
"For you; and you're to have as much every week, Mamma Vi says."
"O Lu! am I, really?"
"Yes; I too; and Gracie's to have a quarter."
"Oh, isn't it splendid!" he cried, and hurried to Violet to pour out his thanks.
Grandma Elsie, seated on the sofa by Violet's side, shared with her the pleasure of witnessing the children's delight.
Our friends had now spent several days in Boston, and the next morning they left for Philadelphia, where they paid a short visit to relatives.
This was their last halt on the journey home to Ion.
CHAPTER VI.
"--to the guiltless heart, where'er we roam, No scenes delight us like our much-loved home."
--Robert Hillhouse.
Elsie and her children had greatly enjoyed their summer at the North, but now were filled with content and happiness at the thought of soon seeing again their loved home at Ion, while Max and Lulu looked forward with pleasing antic.i.p.ations and eager curiosity to their first sight of it, having heard various glowing descriptions of it from "Mamma Vi" and Rosie.
Their father, too, had spoken of it as a home so delightful that they ought to feel the liveliest grat.i.tude for having been invited to share its blessings.
It was looking very beautiful, very inviting, on the arrival of our travellers late in the afternoon of a warm, bright October day.
The woods and the trees that bordered the avenue were in the height of their autumn glory, the gardens gay with many flowers of the most varied and brilliant hues, and the lengthening shadows slept on a still green and velvety lawn.
As their carriage turned into the avenue, Elsie bent an affectionate, smiling look upon Max and Lulu, and taking a hand of each, said in sweetest tones, "Welcome to your new home, my dears, and may it prove to you a very, very happy one."
"Thank you, ma'am," they both responded, Max adding, "I am very glad, Grandma Elsie, that I am to live with you and Mamma Vi."
"I, too," said Lulu; "and in such a pretty place. Oh, how lovely everything does look!"
The air was delightful, and doors and windows stood wide open. On the veranda a welcoming group was gathered. Elsie's brother and sister--Horace Dinsmore, Jr., of the Oaks, and Mrs. Rose Lacey from the Laurels--and her cousins Calhoun and Arthur Conly; while a little in the rear of them were the servants, all--from old Uncle Joe, now in his ninety-fifth year, down to Betty, his ten-year-old great-granddaughter--showing faces full of eager delight.
They stood back respectfully till greetings had been exchanged between relatives and friends, then pressed forward with their words of welcome, sure of a shake of the hand and kind word from each member of the family.