Elsie's Girlhood, Page 2

  CHAPTER II

  O lady! there be many things That seem right fair above; But sure not one among them all Is half so sweet as love;-- Let us not pay our vows alone, But join two altars into one.

  --O. W. HOLMES

  Here still is the smile that no cloud can o'ercast, And the heart, and the hand, all thy own to the last.

  --MOORE.

  Mr. Horace Dinsmore was quite remarkable for his conversationalpowers, and Rose, who had always heretofore found him a mostentertaining companion, wondered greatly at his silence on thisparticular evening. She waited in vain for him to start some topic ofconversation, but as he did not seem disposed to do so, she at lengthmade the attempt herself, and tried one subject after another.Finding, however, that she was answered only in monosyllables, she toogrew silent and embarrassed, and heartily wished for the relief ofElsie's presence.

  She had proposed summoning the child to accompany them as usual, butMr. Dinsmore replied that she had already had sufficient exercise, andhe would prefer having her remain at home.

  They had walked some distance, and coming to a rustic seat where theyhad often rested, they sat down. The moon was shining softly down uponthem, and all nature seemed hushed and still. For some moments neitherof them spoke, but at length Mr. Dinsmore broke the silence.

  "Miss Allison," he said, in his deep, rich tones, "I would like totell you a story, if you will do me the favor to listen."

  It would have been quite impossible for Rose to tell why her heartbeat so fast at this very commonplace remark, but so it was; and shecould scarcely steady her voice to reply, "I always find your storiesinteresting, Mr. Dinsmore."

  He began at once.

  "Somewhere between ten and eleven years ago, a wild, reckless boyof seventeen, very much spoiled by the indulgence of a fond, dotingfather, who loved and petted him as the only son of his departedmother, was spending a few months in one of our large Southern cities,where he met, and soon fell desperately in love with, a beautifulorphan heiress, some two years his junior.

  "The boy was of too ardent a temperament, and too madly in love, tobrook for a moment the thought of waiting until parents and guardiansshould consider them of suitable age to marry, in addition to which hehad good reason to fear that his father, with whom family pride was aruling passion, would entirely refuse his consent upon learning thatthe father of the young lady had begun life as a poor, uneducated boy,and worked his way up to wealth and position by dint of hard labor andincessant application to business.

  "The boy, it is true, was almost as proud himself, but it was notuntil the arrows of the boy-god had entered into his heart toodeeply to be extracted, that he learned the story of his charmer'santecedents. Yet I doubt if the result would have been different hadhe been abundantly forewarned; for oh, Miss Rose, if ever an angelwalked the earth in human form it was she!--so gentle, so good, sobeautiful!"

  He heaved a deep sigh, paused a moment, and then went on:

  "Well, Miss Rose, as you have probably surmised, they were privatelymarried. If that sweet girl had a fault, it was that she was tooyielding to those she loved, and she did love her young husband withall the warmth of her young guileless heart; for she had neitherparents nor kinsfolk, and he was the one object around which heraffections might cling. They were all the world to each other, and fora few short months they were very happy.

  "But it could not last; the marriage was discovered--her guardian andthe young man's father were both furious, and they were torn asunder;she carried away to a distant plantation, and he sent North to attendcollege.

  "They were well-nigh distracted, but cherished the hope that whenthey should reach their majority and come into possession of theirproperty, which was now unfortunately entirely in the hands of theirguardians, they would be reunited.

  "But--it is the old story--their letters were intercepted, and thefirst news the young husband received of his wife was that she haddied a few days after giving birth to a little daughter."

  Again Mr. Dinsmore paused, then continued:

  "It was a terrible stroke! For months, reason seemed almost ready todesert her throne; but time does wonders, and in the course of yearsit did much to heal his wounds. You would perhaps suppose that hewould at once--or at least as soon as he was his own master--havesought out his child, and lavished upon it the wealth of hisaffections: but no; he had conceived almost an aversion to it; for helooked upon it as the cause--innocent, it is true--but still the causeof his wife's death. He did not know till long years afterwardsthat her heart was broken by the false story of his desertion andsubsequent death. Her guardian was a hard, cruel man, though faithfulin his care of her property.

  "With him the child remained until she was about four years old whena change was made necessary by his death, and she, with her faithfulnurse, was received into her paternal grandfather's family until herfather, who had then gone abroad, should return. But my story isgrowing very long, and you will be weary of listening. I will try tobe as brief as possible.

  "The little girl, under the care of her nurse and the faithfulinstructions of a pious old Scotchwoman--who had come over with thechild's maternal grandparents, and followed the fortunes of thedaughter and granddaughter, always living as housekeeper in thefamilies where they resided--had grown to be a sweet, engaging child,inheriting her mother's beauty and gentleness. She had also hermother's craving for affection, and was constantly looking and longingfor the return of her unknown father, which was delayed from time totime until she was nearly eight years of age.

  "At last he came; but ah, what a bitter disappointment awaited thepoor child! His mind had been poisoned against her, and instead ofthe love and tenderness she had a right to expect, he met her withcoldness--almost with aversion. Poor little one! she was nearlyheartbroken, and for a time scarcely dared venture into her father'spresence. She was gentle, submissive, and patient; he cold, haughty,and stern. But she would love him, in spite of his sternness, and atlength she succeeded in winning her way to his affections, and helearned to love her with passionate tenderness.

  "Still her troubles were not over. She was sincerely pious, andconscientiously strict in many things which her father deemed oflittle importance; especially was this the case in regard to theobservance of the Sabbath. He was a man of iron will, and she, thoughperfectly submissive in other respects, had the firmness of a martyrin resisting any interference with her conscience.

  "Well, their wills came in collision. He required her to do what sheconsidered a violation of God's law, although he could see no harmin it, and therefore considered her stubborn and disobedient. He wasfirm, but so was she. He tried persuasions, threats, punishments--allwithout effect. He banished her from his arms, from the family circle,deprived her of amusements, denied her to visitors, broke off hercorrespondence with a valued friend, sent away her nurse; and findingall these acts of severity ineffectual, he at length left her, tellingher he would return only when she submitted; and even refusing her aparting caress, which she pleaded for with heart-breaking entreaties."

  Mr. Dinsmore's voice trembled with emotion, but recovering himself, hewent on:

  "Don't think, Miss Allison, that all this time the father's heart wasnot bleeding; it was, at every pore; but he was determined to conquer,and mistook the child's motives and the source of her strength toresist his will.

  "He had bought a beautiful estate; he caused the house to behandsomely fitted up and furnished, especially lavishing trouble andexpense upon a suite of rooms for his little girl, and when all wascompleted, he wrote to her, bidding her go and see the lovely homehe had prepared for her reception as soon as she would submit,--andpresenting, as the only alternative, banishment to a boarding-schoolor convent until her education was finished. This was the one dropwhich made the cup overflow. The poor suffering child was prostratedby a brain fever which brought her to the very gates of death. Thenthe father's eyes were opened; he saw his folly and his sin, andrepented in sackcloth and ashes; and God, in His
great mercy, waspleased to spare him the terrible crushing blow which seemed to havealready fallen;--for at one time they told him his child was dead. Oh,never, never can he forget the unutterable anguish of that moment!"

  Mr. Dinsmore paused, unable to proceed. Rose had been weeping for sometime. She well knew to whose story she was listening, and her gentle,loving heart was filled with pity for both him and for his child.

  "I have but little more to tell," he resumed; "the child has at lengthentirely recovered her health; she is dearer to her father's heartthan words can express, and is very happy in the knowledge that it isso, and that henceforward he will strive to assist her to walk in thenarrow way, instead of endeavoring to lead her from it.

  "Their home has been a very happy one; but it lacks one thing--thewife and mother's place is vacant; she who filled it once isgone--never to return!--but there is a sweet, gentle lady who haswon the hearts of both father and daughter, and whom they would fainpersuade to fill the void in their affections and their home.

  "Miss Rose, dare I hope that you would venture to trust your happinessin the hands of a man who has proved himself capable of such cruelty?"

  Rose did not speak, and he seemed to read in her silence and heraverted face a rejection of his suit.

  "Ah, you cannot love or trust me!" he exclaimed bitterly. "I wasindeed a fool to hope it. Forgive me for troubling you; forgive mypresumption in imagining for a moment that I might be able to win you.But oh, Rose, could you but guess how I love you--better than aughtelse upon earth save my precious child! and even as I love her betterthan life. I said that our home had been a happy one, but to me it canbe so no longer if you refuse to share it with me!"

  She turned her blushing face towards him for a single instant, andtimidly placed her hand in his. The touch sent a thrill through herwhole frame.

  "And you will dare trust me?" he said in a low tone of intense joy."Oh, Rose! I have not deserved such happiness as this! I am not worthyof one so pure and good. But I will do all that man can do to makeyour life bright and happy."

  "Ah, Mr. Dinsmore! I am very unfit for the place you have asked meto fill," she murmured. "I am not old enough, or wise enough to be amother to your little girl."

  "I know you are young, dear Rose, but you are far from foolish," hesaid tenderly, "and my little girl is quite prepared to yield you adaughter's love and obedience; but I do not think she will be a careor trouble to you; I do not intend that she shall, but expect to takeall that upon myself. Indeed, Rose, dearest, you shall never know anycare or trouble that I can save you from. No words can tell how dearyou are to me, and were it in my power I would shield you from everyannoyance, and give you every joy that the human heart can know. Ihave loved you from the first day we met!--ah, I loved you even beforethat, for all your love and kindness to my darling child; but Iscarcely dared hope that you could return my affection, or feelwilling to trust your happiness to the keeping of one who had shownhimself such a monster of cruelty in his treatment of his littlegentle daughter. Are you not afraid of me, Rose?"

  His arm was around her waist, and he was bending over her, gazing downinto her face, and eagerly awaiting her answer.

  Presently it came, in calm, gentle tones; "No, Horace; 'perfect lovecasteth out fear,' and I cannot judge you hardly for what mayhave been only a mistaken sense of duty, and has been so bitterlyrepented."

  "Heaven bless you, dearest, for these words," he answered withemotion, "they have made me the happiest of men."

  Horace Dinsmore wore upon his little finger a splendid diamond ring,which had attracted a good deal of attention, especially among theladies; who admired it extremely, and of which Miss Stevens had hopedto be one day the happy and envied possessor. Taking Rose's smallwhite hand in his again, he placed it upon her slender finger.

  "This seals our compact, and makes you mine forever," he said,pressing the hand to his lips.

  "With the consent of my parents," murmured Rose, a soft blush mantlingher cheek.

  Elsie was still in her papa's private parlor, for though it was longpast her usual hour for retiring, she had not yet done so; her fatherhaving left a message with Chloe to the effect that she might, if shechose, stay up until his return.

  Chloe had dropped asleep in her chair, and the little girl wastrying to while away the time with a book. But she did not seem muchinterested in it, for every now and then she laid it down to run tothe door and listen. Then sighing to herself, "They are not comingyet," she would go back and take it up again. But at last she startedfrom her seat with an exclamation of delight that awoke Chloe; forthis time there could be no doubt; she had heard his well-known stepupon the stairs.

  She moved quickly towards the door--stopped--hesitated, and stoodstill to the middle of the room.

  But the door opened, and her father entered with Miss Rose upon hisarm. One look at his radiant countenance, and Rose's blushing, happyface told the whole glad story. He held out his hand with a beamingsmile, and Elsie sprang towards him.

  "My darling," he said, stooping to give her a kiss, "I have broughtyou a mother."

  Then taking Rose's hand, and placing one of Elsie's in it, while heheld the other in a close, loving grasp, he added: "Rose, she is yourdaughter also. I give you a share in my choicest treasure."

  Rose threw her arm around the little girl and kissed her tenderly,whispering: "Will you love me, Elsie, dearest? you know how dearly Ilove you."

  "Indeed I will; I do love you very much, and I am very glad, dear,darling Miss Rose," Elsie replied, returning her caress.

  Mr. Dinsmore was watching them with a heart swelling with joy andgratitude. He led Rose to a sofa, and seating himself by her side,drew Elsie in between his knees, and put an arm round each. "My twotreasures," he said, looking affectionately from one to the other."Rose, I feel myself the richest man in the Union."

  Rose smiled, and Elsie laid her head on her father's shoulder with ahappy sigh.

  They sat a few moments thus, when Rose made a movement to go,remarking that it must be growing late. She felt a secret desire tobe safe within the shelter of her own room before the return of theriding party should expose her to Miss Stevens' prying curiosity.

  "It is not quite ten yet," said Mr. Dinsmore, looking at his watch.

  "Late enough though, is it not?" she answered with a smile. "I think Imust go. Good-night, dear little Elsie." She rose, and Mr. Dinsmore,gently drawing her hand within his arm, led her to her room, biddingher good-night at the door, and adding a whispered request that shewould wait for him to conduct her down to the breakfast room in themorning.

  "Must I go to bed now, papa?" asked Elsie, as he returned to theparlor again.

  "Not yet," he said; "I want you." And, sitting down, he took her inhis arms. "My darling, my dear little daughter!" he said; "were youvery lonely this evening?"

  "No, papa; not very, though I missed you and Miss Rose."

  He was gazing down into her face; something in its expression seemedto strike him, and he suddenly turned her towards the light, andlooking keenly at her, said, "You have been crying; what was thematter?"

  Elsie's face flushed crimson, and the tears started to her eyes again."Dear papa, don't be angry with me," she pleaded. "I couldn't help it;indeed I could not."

  "I am not angry, darling; only pained that my little girl is notso happy as I expected. I hoped that your joy would be uncloudedto-night, as mine has been; but will you not tell your father whattroubles you, dearest?"

  "I was looking at this, papa," she said, drawing her mother'sminiature from her bosom, and putting it into his hand; "and mammy wastelling me all about my own mamma again; and, papa, you know I loveMiss Rose, and I am very glad she is coming to us, but it seems asif--as if--" She burst into a flood of tears, and hiding her face onhis breast, sobbed out, "Oh, papa, I can't help feeling as thoughmamma--my own dear mamma--is farther away from us now; as if she isgoing to be forgotten."

  There were tears in his eyes, too; but gently raising her head, hepushe
d back the curls from her forehead, and kissing her tenderly,said, in low, soothing tones, "No, darling; it is only a feeling, andwill soon pass away. Your own dear mother--my early love--can never beforgotten by either of us. Nor would Rose wish it. There is room inmy heart for both of them, and I do not love the memory of Elsie lessbecause I have given a place in it to Rose."

  There was a momentary silence; then she looked up, asking timidly,"You are not vexed with me, papa?"

  "No, dearest; not at all; and I am very glad you have told me yourfeelings so freely," he said, folding her closer and closer to hisheart. "I hope you will always come to me with your sorrows, and youneed never fear that you will not find sympathy, and help too, as faras it is in my power to give it. Elsie, do you know that you are verylike your mother?--the resemblance grows stronger every day; and itwould be quite impossible for me to forget her with this living imagealways before me."

  "Am I like her, papa? I am so glad!" exclaimed the little girleagerly, her face lighting up with a joyous smile.

  It seemed as though Mr. Dinsmore could hardly bear to part with hischild that night; he held her a long time in his arms, but at last,with another tender caress, and a fervent blessing, he bade hergood-night and sent her away.