Mildred and Elsie

CHAPTER XXIV

 
"Within her heart was his image,
Cloth'd in the beauty of love and youth, as last she beheld him,
Only more beautiful made by his deathlike silence and absence."
 

Longfellow.

It was evening. Mildred was alone in the parlor, all the rest of the family having gone to a concert. They had urged her to go too, but she had declined, saying she greatly preferred a quiet evening at home. Truth to tell she was oppressed with sadness, and wanted to be alone that she might indulge it for a little without restraint.

All day she had maintained a cheerfulness in the presence of others which she did not feel, for there had been scarce a moment when her lost love was absent from her thoughts. Why was it that her heart went out toward him to-night with such yearning tenderness – such unutterable longing to look into his eyes, to hear the sound of his voice, to feel the touch of his hand?

She tried in vain to read; the image of the lost one constantly obtruded itself between her mental vision and the printed page.

She rose and paced the floor, not weeping, but pressing her hand to her heart with heavy sighing.

The curtains were not closely drawn, or the shutters closed; a lamp burned brightly on the centre-table, and the room was full of warmth and cheer.

She did not hear the opening or shutting of the gate, or a quick, manly step that came up the gravel walk and into the porch; did not see the stranger pause before the bright window and gaze in, half-unconsciously, as if spell-bound by the sight of her graceful figure and fair though sad face. She turned to the open piano, struck a few chords, then seated herself and sang in clear, sweet tones, but with touching pathos:

 
"When true hearts lie withered
And fond ones are flown,
Oh! who would inhabit
This bleak world alone?"
 

Then with a sudden change of feeling, she touched the chords anew and burst into a song of praise, her voice swelling out full and high like the glad song of a bird:

 
"Oh, the height of Jesus' love!
Higher than the heavens above,
Deeper than the depths of sea,
Lasting as eternity;
Love that found me – wondrous thought!
Found me when I sought him not."
 

"A gentleman to see you, Miss Mildred," said the voice of Celestia Ann at the parlor door.

Mildred rose and turned to greet him, in some surprise, for she had not heard the ringing of the door-bell or the sound of the girl's footsteps as she passed through the hall to answer it.

The latter retreated as she ushered the stranger in, but lingered a moment, peering curiously through the crack behind the door. She saw him step forward with outstretched hand, Mildred moving toward him with an earnest, inquiring look up into his face; then an ashy paleness suddenly overspread hers, she staggered and would have fallen, but he caught her in his arms, saying in low, tremulous tones as he held her close to his heart, "Mildred, darling, it is I! Oh, tell me, dear one, that you have not forgotten me!"

"I know'd it! I know'd there was somebody somewheres she cared fer! and I'm mighty glad he's come at last, fer her sake," chuckled Celestia Ann, nodding and smiling to herself as she retreated to her kitchen; "though I'll be dreadful sorry, too, if he carries her oft to some fer-away place."

To those two in the parlor the next hour was probably the most blissful they had ever known. Dr. Landreth's story was briefly told – to be dwelt upon more in detail in future talks, and then – but we will not intrude upon their privacy.

Mr. and Mrs. Keith, returning from the concert, found their daughter seated by the side of one who was an entire stranger to them; yet there was small need of introduction, for by the look of restful happiness in her face they knew instantly who he was, and that all was right between them. From the first all were favorably impressed by Landreth's open, intelligent countenance, polished manners, manly yet modest mien; and a few days of intimate association made him almost as great a favorite in the family as Wallace Ormsby; while the latter was not far behind the others in his liking for the new-comer.

Mildred was very happy, and all her dear ones rejoiced with her; especially when it became known among them that it was not Dr. Landreth's intention or wish to carry her away from them.

"No," he said; "I know too well how sad a thing it is to be fatherless, motherless, and without any other near relative, to desire to separate the dear girl from hers. What I want is the privilege of sharing them with her."

"Which we will all be glad to have you do," returned Mrs. Keith, to whom the remark was addressed, tears of sympathy for his past forlorn condition glistening in her eyes; "we will rejoice to make you one of us, not for Mildred's sake alone, but for your own also."

"Accept my heartiest thanks, my dear madam," the young man said with emotion; "you may perhaps have some idea what it will be to me to have a mother, when I tell you that mine died before my earliest recollection."

Not even to his betrothed had Charlie disclosed the fact that he was again a man of wealth; he merely assured Mr. Keith that he felt himself able to support a wife comfortably, having a good profession, and means enough to live upon until he should become well established in it.

Pleasant Plains was now growing so rapidly, the surrounding country filling up so fast, that hardly a better location for a young physician could be desired, and he decided to settle in the town at once.

And now what was to hinder an immediate marriage? This was the question he urged upon Mildred and her parents, but without obtaining a prompt and decided answer. The parents had given full consent to the match, yet seemed very loath to resign their daughter.

Cyril sided with Landreth; because, as he said, he wanted to be present at the wedding, and as he was to leave for college in a few days, and felt certain they would not wait till he came back, his only chance was to have it take place before he went; so he coaxed and persuaded, overruled all objections, and finally gained his point.

"It won't be parting with her," he said to his father and mother; "they'll board at home at least till spring. I asked the doctor, and he's delighted with the idea." To Mildred herself: "What's the use waiting to make up a lot of finery? You can do that afterwards. You have two new dresses just made up for fall any way, and there's mother's wedding-dress that Zillah was married in fits you just as well, and makes you look lovely. We can't get up as big a wedding as Zil's all in a hurry to be sure, but I don't believe you care for that."

"No," she said; "I should much prefer having only relatives and a few very near friends."

"It would save expense to father and a great deal of fuss and trouble to mother," was the next and most effectual consideration he urged. "Then too," he added a little mischievously, "Mr. Lord's away just now, and that will give you a chance to have the knot tied by your future brother-in-law – same as Zillah had."

This last was a stronger inducement than he knew or suspected; she had an earnest desire to have the ceremony performed by her old friend Frank Osborne, and was a little apprehensive of some blunder on the part of absent-minded Mr. Lord, should he officiate.

"Frank's to preach for us next Sunday," Cyril went on. "He'll stay over Monday if we ask him, and if you'll let me arrange matters I'll appoint Monday evening for the wedding."

"How very kind in you," she returned laughing.

"Come now, Milly, say yes," he continued, not deigning to notice the interruption. "I'm to leave on Wednesday you know."

"Monday, Cyril! Why that's wash-day, and Celestia Ann won't – "

"I'll settle that," he interrupted, making a hasty exit from the room.

After a brief absence he returned in great glee. "I thought I could manage it," he said, "and I have. She's delighted with the idea of a wedding that shall take everybody in town by surprise. She won't give up the washing, but says she'll be up early enough to have it out of the way by nine o'clock; and then she'll 'turn in and bake cake.' She'll bake some to-morrow, too, so there 'won't be no trouble 'bout the 'freshments, not a mite.' Now, Milly, haven't I taken the last stone out of the way?"

"Yes, you dear old fellow," she said, with a look of sisterly love and pride into his bright, eager young face; "and it shall be as you wish. Mother and I have been talking over your plan, and think it practicable. Also that it would be too bad to disappoint you, to say nothing of some one else even more nearly concerned," she added, with a charming blush and smile.

"That's a good girl! I knew you would! I'll run and tell the doctor." And he was off before Mildred could stop him.

Of course Dr. Landreth was delighted. No one else raised any objection, and hasty preparations were at once set on foot.

Mildred thought she ought to be the busiest of them all, but mother and sisters would not hear of it. "You have been working for everybody else for years past," they said; "now it is your turn to rest and have a good time. So just devote yourself to the entertainment of the doctor, or to being entertained by him." Finding them determined to dispense with her assistance, Mildred submitted with a good grace; the more so as Charlie managed to engross her time and attention almost constantly.

He had arrived on Monday, and it was on Friday that her consent to Cyril's plan was given.

Mr. Dinsmore's visit had created quite a sensation in the town. It was reported that he had come for Mildred; but the advent of this stranger who, though lodging at the principal hotel, spent his days at Mr. Keith's, modified the rumors, and people were on the qui vive to learn which, if either, was the favored suitor.

The wedding passed off very nicely, just at the time and in the way that Cyril had planned, and the next morning the gossips of the town were electrified by the news.

The bride had a great surprise that day in her turn. It came in the shape of a mysterious box directed to her, which on opening was found to contain a beautiful bridal bonnet, three dress-patterns of rich silk – a delicate rose color, a silver gray, and a rich dark brown – gloves, laces, ribbons, and flowers.

The whole family had gathered round to watch the opening and unpacking of the box, and each article was examined in turn with many exclamations of admiration and delight. At the very bottom they came upon a note.

"Dear Milly:

"A little bird has whispered to me that you are soon to be a bride, and Elsie and I are very glad of the excuse to send a few trifling gifts, which we hope you will do us the kindness to accept as tokens of the sincere affection we both feel for you.

"Cousin Horace."

There had been no time for parents and friends to prepare bridal gifts, and excepting a beautiful set of pearls Dr. Landreth had purchased for her before leaving Philadelphia, these were the first Mildred had received.

"How very kind and thoughtful!" she said, her eyes glistening with mingled emotions; "but how did they manage it? What time was there for shopping after Cousin Horace saw you, Charlie?"

"I should say by no means enough for the purchase of all these," Dr. Landreth answered, evidently as much puzzled as herself.

A letter from Adelaide Dinsmore, received by the next mail, explained it. She had been present at Horace's wedding, acting as bridesmaid, had remained behind when he left with wife and daughter for their home in the South, and had executed these commissions for him and Elsie, adding some gifts from herself and parents. She wrote in a cordial, affectionate way, and begged for a speedy reply telling all about the marriage. "Because she could get nothing out of Horace except that there was to be one."

"Mildred, you must come out in bridal attire next Sunday," Zillah said with energy. "You're to wear the new bonnet and that grey silk. We'll have it made in time."

It was made in time, and very lovely Mildred looked in it. She was the cynosure of all eyes; yet another bride shared the attention of the curious.

Years ago Gotobed Lightcap had gone to a distant city to pursue his studies. To-day, a licensed preacher of the Gospel, he filled Mr. Lord's pulpit, and gave the congregation an earnest, able, well-written discourse.

After the service he brought his wife – a pretty, ladylike little body – and with a proud and happy look introduced her to Mildred.

The two ladies shook hands cordially, Mildred furtively examining the other with curiosity, Gotobed regarding Dr. Landreth in like manner. Then Mildred introduced them, and they exchanged congratulations and good wishes.

The Rev. Mr. Lightcap was in many ways a vast improvement upon the young blacksmith of Mildred's early acquaintance, especially as regarded education, intelligence, and refinement of speech and manner.

Dr. Landreth was greatly interested in him and his story as told by Mildred on the homeward walk. And she was very happy in the assurance that she had not, even innocently, wrecked his happiness; yet more in the love that now made life's pathway look so bright before her.

THE END