ELSIE DINSMORE Complete Series: 28 Books in One Edition. Martha Finley
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"O war!—what, what art thou?
At once the proof and scourge of man's fallen state."
—HANNAH MORE.
Richard Allison had gone to Lansdale for his bride a fortnight ago; they were now taking their bridal trip and expected to reach Elmgrove a day or two before the wedding of May and Harry Duncan. The latter would bring Aunt Wealthy with him, and leave her for a short visit among her friends.
Sophie's mother and sister-in-law, Mrs. Carrington, and Lucy Ross, came earlier, arriving only two days after our party from Europe.
There was great pleasure, yet mingled with profound sadness, in the meeting of these old and dear friends. Lucy and her mother were in deep mourning, and in Mrs. Carrington's countenance Christian resignation blended with heart-breaking sorrow; grief and anxiety had done the work of a score of years, silvering her hair and ploughing deep furrows in the face that five years ago was still fresh and fair.
Mr. Travilla had taken wife and children for a morning drive, and on their return, Adelaide, meeting them at the door, said to her niece, "They have come, they are in Mrs. Carrington's dressing-room; and she begs that you will go and meet her there. She has always loved you so dearly, and I know is longing for your sympathy."
Elsie, waiting only to lay aside hat and gloves, hastened to grant the request of the gentle lady for whom she cherished almost a daughter's affection.
She found her alone. They met silently, clasping each other in a long, tearful embrace, Mrs. Carrington's sobs for many minutes the only sound that broke the stillness of the room.
"I have lost all," she said at length, as they released each other and sat down side by side upon a sofa; "all: husband, sons, home——"
Sobs choked her utterance, and Lucy coming hastily in at the open door of the adjoining room, dropped on her knees by her mother's side, and taking one thin, pale hand in hers, said tearfully, "Not all, dear mamma; you have me, and Phil, and the children."
"Me too, mother dear, and your Harry's children," added Sophie, who had followed her sister, and now knelt with her.
"Yes, yes, dear daughters, I was wrong: I have lost much, but have many blessings still left, your love not the least; and my grandchildren are scarcely less dear than my own. Lucy, dear, here is Elsie."
"Yes, our own dear, darling Elsie, scarcely changed at all!" Lucy cried, springing up to greet her friend with a warm embrace.
A long talk followed, Mrs. Carrington and Sophie giving their experiences of the war and its results, to which the others listened with deep interest.
"Thank God it is over at last!" concluded the elder lady; "and oh, may He, in His great goodness and mercy, spare us a repetition of it. Oh, the untold horrors of civil war—strife among brethren who should know nothing but love for each other—none can imagine but those who have passed through them! There was fault on both sides, as there always is when people quarrel. And what has been gained? Immense loss of property, and of far more precious lives, an exchange of ease and luxury for a hard struggle with poverty."
"But it is over, dear mother, and the North will help the South to recuperate," said Lucy. "Phil says so, and I've heard it from others too; just as soon as the struggle ended, people were saying, 'Now they have given up, the Union is safe, and we're sorry for them and will do all we can to help them; for they are our own people.'"
"Yes, I have been most agreeably surprised at the kind feeling here," her mother answered; "nobody has had a hard word to say of us, so far as I have been able to learn; and I have seen nothing like exultation over a fallen foe; but on the contrary there seems a desire to lend us a helping hand and set us on our feet again."
"Indeed, mother, I assure you that is so," said Sophie.
"And all through the war," added Lucy, "there was but little hard feeling towards the people of the South; 'deceived and betrayed by their leaders, they are more to be pitied than blamed,' was the opinion commonly expressed by those who stood by the government."
"And papa says there will be no confiscation of property," Sophie said, "unless it may be merely that of the leaders; and that he will help us to restore Ashlands to what it was: so you will have your own home again, mother."
"How generous! I can never repay the obligation," Mrs. Carrington said, in a choking voice.
"But you need not feel overburdened by it, dear mother. It is for Herbert, you know, his own grand son."
"And mine! Ah, this news fills me with joy and gratitude."
"Yes, I feel papa's kindness very much," Sophie said, "and hope my son will never give him cause to regret it."
Elsie rose. "I hear my baby crying, and know that he wants his mother. Dear Mrs. Carrington, you are looking very weary; and it is more than an hour yet to dinner-time; will you not lie down and rest?"
"Yes, and afterwards you must show me your children. I want to see them."
"Thank you; I shall do so with much pleasure," the young mother answered smilingly, as she hastened from the room; for Baby Harold's cries were growing importunate.
This was the regular hour for Eddie and Vi to take a nap, and Elsie found them lying quietly in their little bed, while the screaming babe stoutly resisted the united efforts of his elder sister and Aunt Chloe to pacify and amuse him.
"Give him to me, mammy," she said, seating herself by the open window; "it is his mother he wants."
Little Elsie, ever concerned for her mother's happiness, studied the dear face intently for a moment, and seeing the traces of tears, drew near and, putting an arm about her neck, "Mamma," she said tenderly, "dear mamma, what troubles you? May I know about it?"
Mrs. Travilla explained briefly, telling of Mrs. Carrington's trials, and of those of other old friends and neighbors in the South.
"Mamma," said the child, with eyes filled to overflowing, "I am very sorry for them all, and for you. Mamma, it is like Jesus to shed tears for other people's troubles: but, mamma, I think it is too much; there are so many, it makes you sorry all the time, and I can't bear it."
The mother's only answer was a silent caress, and the child went on: "I hope nobody else will come with such sad stories to make you cry. Is there anybody else to do it, mamma?"
"I think not, dear; there are only Aunt Wealthy, who has not lost any near friend lately, and—Why there she is now! the dear old soul!" she broke off joyously, for at that instant a carriage, which she had been watching coming up the drive, drew up before the door, and a young gentleman and a little old lady alighted.
Aunt Chloe took the babe, and Elsie hastened down to meet her aunt, her little daughter following.
To the child's great relief it was an altogether joyous greeting this time; both Miss Stanhope, and her escort, Harry Duncan, were looking very happy, which caused her to regard them with much satisfaction, and the kisses asked of her were given very readily.
"Were you expecting us to-day, Mrs. Allison?" Harry asked, turning to Adelaide.
"Yes; I received your telegram."
"Business hurried us off two days sooner than we expected," said Miss Stanhope. "I would have written, but was so very busy with papers and painterers doing the house all up new; and putting down new curtains, and tacking up new carpets, till, Elsie, the old place would hardly know you."
The old lady's heart was evidently full to overflowing, with happiness at the prospect of seeing May installed as future mistress in the pretty cottage at Lansdale.
Yet there was no lack of sympathy in the sorrows or joys of others; she wept with them all over their losses past and prospective; for she, too, saw that Harold must soon pass away from earth, and while rejoicing with him, when she learned how gladly he would obey the summons, her heart