Grandmother Elsie Part 6

She looked her thanks. "'Fear not;' sweet command! I must, I will obey it.

Oh, how true it is that in keeping His commands there is great reward! I am fully convinced that in the perfect keeping of them all perfect happiness would be found."

A gentleman standing near turned suddenly round. The tones of Elsie's voice had reached him, though very few of the words.

"Ah, I thought I could not be mistaken in that voice," he said delightedly, and offering his hand in cordial greeting. "How are you, Miss Elsie? and you, Ned? Really you are the last people I expected to meet here, though the very ones I should prefer above all others as _compagnons de voyage_."

It was Philip Ross, Jr.

Neither of those addressed had ever enjoyed his society, and they were too sincere and true to reciprocate his expressions of gratification at the unexpected meeting. They accepted his offered hand, made kind inquiries in regard to his health and that of the other members of the family, and asked if any of them were on board.

"No," he said, "it's merely a business trip that I take quite frequently.

But ma and the girls are in Paris now, went last June and expect to stay for another six months or longer. You two aren't here alone, eh?"

"Yes," Edward said.

"You don't say so!" cried Philip, elevating his eyebrows. "Who'd ever have believed your careful mother--not to speak of your grandfather--would ever trust you so far from home by yourselves!"

"Mr. Ross," Edward said, reddening, "I shall reach my majority a few months hence, and have been considered worthy of trust by both mother and grandpa, for years past."

"Mamma did not show the slightest hesitation in committing me to his care," added Elsie in her sweet, gentle tones.

"Glad to hear it! didn't mean any insinuation that I didn't consider you worthy of all trust, Ned; only that Mrs. Travilla and the old governor have always been so awfully strict and particular."

Elsie, to whom the slang term was new, looked at the speaker with a slightly puzzled expression; but Edward, who fully understood it, drew himself up with offended dignity.

"Permit me to remark, Mr. Ross, that so disrespectful an allusion to my honored grandfather can never be other than extremely offensive to me, and to all his children and grandchildren."

"Beg your pardon, Nod, and yours, Miss Elsie" (he would have liked to drop the Miss, but something in her manner prevented him), "I call my own father the governor--behind his back you know--and meant no offence in applying the term to Mr. Dinsmore."

His apology was accepted, and the talk turned upon the various objects of interest within sight as they pa.s.sed through the harbor.

When there was little more to see but sky and water, Elsie retired to her state-room, where she stayed until evening. Then Edward came for her, and they pa.s.sed an hour very enjoyably in promenading the deck or sitting side by side, looking out upon the moonlit waters.

"I wish we hadn't happened upon Phil Ross," Edward remarked in an undertone far from hilarious. "I fear he will, according to custom, make himself very disagreeable to you."

"I have been thinking it over, Ned," she answered, "and have come to the conclusion that the better plan will be for you to take the first favorable opportunity to tell him of my engagement and what is the object of our journey."

"I presume such a course will be likely to save you a good deal of annoyance," Edward said; "and as we are old acquaintances, and he evidently full of a curiosity that will a.s.suredly lead to his asking some questions, I think it will be no difficult matter to give him the information without seeming to thrust it upon him."

At that moment Philip came up and joined them, helping himself to a seat on Elsie's other side. He seemed to be, as of old, on the best of terms with himself and very graciously disposed toward Elsie.

He, too, had been thinking of the, to him, fortunate chance (Elsie would have called it providence) which had thrown them together where for some days they were likely to see much of each other. He had heard a report of her engagement, but refused to credit it. "She had always been fond of him and it wasn't likely she would throw herself away on somebody else." And now he had come to the decision to offer her his hand, heart, and fortune without delay. He was rich enough, and why should he keep her in suspense any longer?

He indulged in a few trivial commonplaces, then invited her to take a turn with him on the deck.

But she declined with thanks, "he must excuse her for she was greatly fatigued and must retire at once." And with a kindly "Good-night," she withdrew to her state-room, Edward again giving her the support of his arm.

Philip was literally struck dumb with surprise, and did not recover his speech until she was gone.

Edward returned presently, and as he resumed his seat by Philip's side the latter asked, "Is your sister out of health, Ned?"

"No; but we are just off a long and fatiguing journey; she was not at her best state either when we left home, because of care and nursing of the sick children. And in addition to all that she is enduring much grief and anxiety."

"May I ask on what account?"

"Yes; I have no objection to telling you the whole story, considering what old acquaintances we are, and the life-long friends.h.i.+p of our mothers.

Lester Leland, Elsie's betrothed, is lying very ill in Rome, and we are making all haste to join him there."

"Her betrothed!" cried Philip, starting to his feet, "her betrothed did you say? why--why, I've always expected to marry her myself; thought it was an understood thing in both families, and----"

"I am sure I do not know upon what grounds you entertained such an idea,"

returned Edward in a tone of mingled indignation and disgust.

"Grounds, man! I'm sure it would seem the most natural thing in the world--each the eldest child of intimate and dear friends--and I have never made any secret of my preference for her----"

"Which amounts to nothing unless it had been reciprocated."

"Reciprocated! I've always thought it was, and delayed speaking out plainly only because I considered myself safe in waiting to grow a little richer."

"In which you were egregiously mistaken. Now let me a.s.sure you once for all, that Elsie never has and never will care for any man in that way but Lester Leland."

At that Philip turned and walked rapidly away. "I'd rather have lost all I'm worth!" he muttered to himself. "Yes; every cent of it. But as to her never caring for anybody else if that fellow was out o' the way, I don't believe it. And he may die; may be dead now. Well, if he is I'll keep a sharp look-out that n.o.body else gets ahead of me."

His self-love and self-conceit had received a pretty deep wound, his eyes were opened to the fact that Elsie avoided being alone with him, never appearing on deck without her brother, and he did not trouble her much during the remainder of the voyage, did not make his intended offer.

CHAPTER V.

"I feel Of this dull sickness at my heart afraid And in my eyes the death sparks flash and fade And something seems to steal Over my bosom like a frozen hand."

--_Willis_.

Dr. Arthur Conly rode briskly up the avenue at Roselands, dismounted, throwing the bridle to a servant, and went up the steps into the veranda, whistling softly to himself.

"You seem in good spirits, Art," remarked Calhoun, who sat there with the morning paper in his hand. "I haven't heard you whistle before for--well I should say something like a fortnight."

"I am in good spirits, Cal, the Ion children are out of danger, and uncle has just had a telegram from Ned announcing the safe arrival of their party in New York in good season to take the steamer."

"I presume this tells the same story, though I can't think why it isn't directed to grandpa, or to me as the eldest son of the house," Calhoun said, handing an unopened telegram to his brother.

Arthur tore it hastily open, glanced at the contents and paled to the very lips.

"What is it?" cried Calhoun in alarm.

"Mother!" said Arthur huskily, putting the paper into his brother's outstretched hand. "She has been struck down with apoplexy. Cal, I must take the first train for New York. Look at the paper, see when it leaves.

Thank G.o.d that those children are out of danger! But I must see whom I can get to take charge of them and my other patients during my absence."