"This is our last walk by the sh.o.r.e for three years to come; but it is also the happiest we have had since my return from sea; for now we fully understand and trust one another," said Le, as they re-entered the house.

The short winter afternoon was drawing to a close. The sun was just above the wooded hills on the western horizon, and the moon had not yet risen above the bay.

It had been arranged that Mr. Force, Odalite, Wynnette and Elva should accompany their cousin to the distant railway to see him off--"to see the last of him," as Wynnette put it, in a tragi-comic air. They were to go in the large sleigh, drawn by a pair of draught horses driven by Jake.

Tea had been ordered at half-past five o'clock, and the sleigh was to be brought to the door at six. By that time the moon would be up and the road lightened.

The servants were punctual. At the appointed hour the whole family gathered around the tea table, and by much tea drinking and more talking and laughing, tried to enliven the gloom of the last hour.

As soon as tea was over, the girls flew off upstairs to put on hooded cloaks and shawls and overshoes for their moonlight sleigh ride. Leonidas put on his ulster and seal cap, and then made a round of the house and the stables and quarters to bid good-by to all the servants, who gave him many prayers and blessings, after the manner of their warm hearts.

When he returned to the hall he found Mr. Force and the three girls already packed in the sleigh under heaps of bearskins.

"Make your adieus as brief as possible, my dear boy! It is necessary to 'speed the parting guest,' or he will not catch the train, and then what will become of his official honor?" called out Mr. Force from the sleigh.

Le caught his aunt in his arms and kissed her while he received her blessing. Then he embraced Miss Meeke, who cried over him a little.

Finally he gave his hand to Mrs. Anglesea to bid her a respectful and friendly good-by; but that affectionate creature caught him in her arms and pressed him to her bosom, saying, when she had kissed him heartily:

"Lord bless you, young un! I don't care if you do miss the train and fail to report for duty and get court-martialed and dismissed the service; for then yer can stay home and marry your gal--and let honor be hanged and the service go to Old Scratch! You'll be happy with your fine farm and your pretty wife."

"Come, come, Le! My dear fellow, come!" called Mr. Force.

Leonidas broke away from the kindly arms that held him and hurried into the sleigh, which started off so suddenly that the young midshipman literally dropped into the seat that had been kept for him beside Odalite.

The sleigh sped over the snow-clad, moonlit ground, through the north gate of the lawn and into the forest.

Before reaching Chincapin Creek it turned off to the left and took the road to the railway station.

Their way lay through the forest for many a mile. Odalite and Leonidas sat in the back seat, covered with the same bearskin, and with their hands clasped together. Very few words pa.s.sed between them. But the frequent hand pressures silently spoke.

Wynnette and Elva sat in front of them, and chattered incessantly to encourage themselves and their party, very much upon the same principle that boys are said to whistle in going through a churchyard at night, to keep up their spirits--for the children loved their cousin dearly and hated to part from him.

Mr. Force sat on the front seat beside Jake, who drove.

The horses went at full speed and fairly flew over the ground.

When they emerged at last from the forest they saw the lights in the railway station gleaming in the distance, and soon after heard the far-off thunder of the approaching train.

"Faster, Jacob! Faster!" cried Mr. Force. "Oh, Le, my boy, what a close shave this is! How much you have risked for the sake of spending a few more hours with us!"

"Well, I gained the hours, and I shall catch the train!" exclaimed the young man, as the sleigh suddenly pulled up before the ticket office at the same instant that the train ran into the station.

"Don't get out! there's no time!" exclaimed Le, as he suddenly strained Odalite to his bosom, kissed her pa.s.sionately and started from his seat. A hasty handshake with his uncle and then with Jake, both of whom called blessings down on him; a hasty kiss to Wynnette and Elva, both of whom burst out crying and bellowed l.u.s.tily; then a last long kiss again to his dear Odalite, who received it in a suffocating silence; and the next moment the young man had jumped from the sleigh and disappeared in the station, and almost immediately the train went on.

The party in the sleigh waited in total silence but for the sobs of Wynnette and Elva, until the train had pa.s.sed out of sight and hearing.

"I thought he might have missed it, but he has not," said Mr. Force.

"Oh, I wish, I wish he had!" sobbed Elva.

"But what would have become of his honor, my dear?" questioned her father.

"Oh, I don't care a pin for that sort of honor, any more than Mrs.

Anglesea does! I wanted him--I loved him!" sobbed Elva.

"I don't see why people should part when they don't want to and are not obliged to, just for a notion!" cried Wynnette.

"Drive home, Jacob. But not too fast. We can spare the horses now," said Mr. Force.

And the coachman turned the horses' heads and took the homeward road.

They arrived at Mondreer at ten o'clock and found Mrs. Force, Mrs.

Anglesea and Miss Meeke cozily sitting around the parlor fire and watching a jug of hot mulled port wine which the mistress had brewed for the returning cold and benumbed travelers.

Mrs. Force took Odalite in her arms and kissed her in silent sympathy, while Mrs. Anglesea occupied herself with the congenial task of pouring out the hot, spiced wine into gla.s.s goblets for the party.

They all sat around the table--those who had gone abroad and those who had stayed at home--and every one partook of the warming and exhilarating beverage, while Mr. Force related what a fine sleigh ride they had had, and how Le caught his train just in the nick of time.

They all drank Le's health in a final gla.s.s, and then separated, and retired to rest.

CHAPTER XLVIII

A WEDDING AT MONDREER

How they missed Leonidas at Mondreer can be felt by all who have ever had a dear one leave the family for an absence of years in far distant lands.

In the city such a loss is felt painfully enough; but the busy life of the crowd distracts attention from individual missings.

In the country, and in the winter, when clouds, and rain, and snow prevail, and with bad weather they have worse roads, and no interchange of neighborly courtesies, and all within the house is still, silent and depressing, the absence of the friend is felt far more deeply.

The day after Le's departure the weather changed, bringing a dull, gray sky, and a warm rain, that melted all the splendor of the snow, and turned the hard roads into gullies of mud, so confining the family of Mondreer to their own house.

Certainly they tried "to be jolly under difficulties."

Mr. Force reminded them that they had really nothing to mourn over, since young navy officers must go to sea, and that if they all were as steady as Le the long voyage must do them good, improve their minds, and strengthen their bodies; and that they had much to be thankful for, since sickness and death had kept away from their homes.

Mrs. Force and Odalite were a little more silent than usual, and that was all the difference to be seen in them.

Wynnette went singing about the house, to pretend that she was merry. But, while gazing from the parlor window out upon the dark sky full of soft, fine, warm rain that turned the lawn into a marsh, and hid the wooded hills on the west and the bay on the east from view, she suddenly snapped out:

"Euphonious Mondreer should be relegated to its original, descriptive name, and be called Mount Dreary, as it is in the old patents and deeds!"

"But was it Mount Dreary last week, when we had the glorious sunshine, and the splendid frost and snow, and the waters of the bay as blue as the sky they reflected, eh?" inquired Miss Meeke, deprecatingly.

"I don't know!" said Wynnette, perversely. "I don't remember any glorious sunshine, or splendid frost and snow, or any blue waters. It has always been rain, and mud, and darkness in this world ever since I was born! And I don't remember anything else, and I don't believe in anything else--there, now!"