MARTHA FINLEY Ultimate Collection – Timeless Children Classics & Other Novels. Finley Martha
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СКАЧАТЬ should be sorry you should have an inhospitable reception, papa, but fires are soon kindled and linen aired, and is not the pantry kept supplied with canned and preserved fruits? and are there not fresh fruits, vegetables, chickens, and eggs at hand for immediate use?"

      "Yes, certainly; and we are not likely to suffer. We Will, then, leave here to-morrow, if you wish, taking the steamer for Berwick Bay. But why prefer to come upon them unexpectedly?"

      Elsie smiled, and blushed slightly. "You know I never have any concealments from you, papa, and I will be frank about this," she said. "I don't think I apt to be suspicious, and yet the thought has come to me several times within the last few days, that the overseer has had every opportunity to abuse my poor people if he happens to be of a cruel disposition. And if he is ill-treating them I should like to catch him at it," she added, her eyes kindling, and the color deepening on her cheek.

      "And what would you do in that case?" her lather asked, with a slight smile, drawing her close to him and touching his lips to the blooming cheek.

      "Dismiss him, I suppose, papa; I don't know what else I could do to punish him or prevent further cruelties. I should not like to shoot him down," she added, laughingly; "and I doubt if I should have strength to flog him."

      "Doubt?" laughed her father, "certainly you could not, single-handed; unless his politeness should lead him to refrain from any effort to defend himself; and I, it would seem, am not expected to have anything to do with the matter."

      A deeper blush than before now suffused Elsie's fair cheek. "Forgive me, dear papa," she said, laying her head on his shoulder, and fondly stroking his face with her pretty white hand. "Please consider yourself master there as truly as at the Oaks, and as you have been for years; and understand that your daughter means to take no important step without your entire approval."

      "No, I do not go there as master, but as your guest," he answered, half playfully, half tenderly.

      "My guest? That seems pleasant indeed, papa; and yet I want you to be master too. But you will at least advise me?"

      "To the best of my ability, my little girl."

      "Thank you, my dear kind father. I have another reason for wishing to start to-morrow. I'm growing anxious and impatient to see my birthplace again: and," she added low and tenderly, "mamma's grave."

      "Yes, we will visit it together for the first time; though I have stood there alone again and again, and her baby daughter used to be taken there frequently to scatter flowers over it and play beside it. Do you remember that?"

      "Yes, sir, as an almost forgotten dream, as I do the house and grounds and some of the old servants who petted and humored me."

      While father and daughter conversed thus together in the parlor, a dusky figure sat at a window in the adjoining bedroom, gazing out upon the moonlighted streets and watching the passers-by. But her thoughts, too, were straying to Viamede; fast-coming memories of earlier days, some all bright and joyous, others filled with the gloom and thick darkness of a terrible anguish, made her by turns long for and dread the arrival at her journey's end.

      A light touch on her shoulder, and she turned to find her young mistress at her side.

      "My poor old mammy, I bring you news you will be sorry to hear," said Elsie, seating herself upon the ample lap, and laying her arm across the broad shoulders.

      "What dat, honey?"

      "We start to-morrow for Viamede; papa has sent John to engage our passage on the steamer."

      "Dat all, darlin'?" queried Chloe, with a sigh of relief, "if we's got to go, might's well go quick an' hab it ober."

      "Well, I'm glad you take so sensible a view of it," remarked Elsie, relieved in her turn; "and I hope you will find much less pain and more pleasure than you expect in going back to the old home."

      The next morning, as Mr. Dinsmore and his daughter sat upon the deck of the steamer, enjoying the sunlight, the breeze, and the dancing of the water, having cleared their port and gotten fairly out into the gulf, a startling incident occurred.

      Chloe stood at a respectful distance, leaning over the side of the vessel, watching the play of the wheel and the rainbow in the spray that fell in showers at its every revolution. An old negro busied about the deck; drew near and addressed her:

      "Well, auntie, you watchin' dat ole wheel dar? Fust time you trable on dis boat, eh?"

      Chloe started at the sound of the voice, turned suddenly round and faced the speaker, her features working with emotion: one moment of earnest scrutiny on the part of both, and with a wild cry, "Aunt Chloe! my ole woman," "Uncle Joe! it can't be you," they rushed into each other's arms, and hung about each other's neck, weeping and sobbing like two children.

      "Papa! what is it?" exclaimed Elsie, greatly surprised at the little scene.

      "Her husband, no doubt: he's too old to be a son."

      "Oh, how glad, how glad I am!" and Elsie started to her feet, her eyes full of tears, and her sweet face sparkling all over with sympathetic joy. "Papa, I shall buy him! they must never be parted again till death comes between."

      A little crowd had already gathered about the excited couple, every one on deck hurrying to the spot, eager to learn the cause of the tumult of joy and grief into which the two seemed to have been so suddenly thrown.

      Mr. Dinsmore rose, and giving his arm to Elsie, led her towards the throng, saying in answer to her last remark, "Better act through me, then, daughter, or you will probably be asked two or three prices."

      "O papa, yes; please attend to it for me—only—only I must have him, for dear old mammy's sake, at whatever cost."

      The crowd opened to the lady and gentleman as they drew near.

      "My poor old mammy, what is it? whom have you found?" asked Elsie.

      But Chloe was speechless with a joy so deep that it wore the aspect of an almost heart-breaking sorrow. She could only cling with choking sobs to her husband's arm. "What's all this fuss, Uncle Joe?" queried the captain. "Let go the old darkie; what's she to you?"

      "My wife, sah, dat I ain't seed for twenty years, sah," replied the old man, trying to steady his trembling tones, obeying the order, but making no effort to shake off Chloe's clinging hold.

      "Leave him for a little now, mammy dear; you shall never be parted again," whispered Elsie in her nurse's ear. "Come with me, and let papa talk to the captain."

      Chloe obeyed, silently following her young mistress to the other side of the deck, but ever and anon turning her head to look back with wet eyes at the old wrinkled black face and white beard that to her were so dear, so charming. His eyes were following her with a look of longing, yearning affection, and involuntarily he stretched out his arms towards her.

      "Off to your work, sir," ordered the captain, "and let's have no more of this nonsense."

      Old Joe moved away with a patient sigh.

      "The woman is your property, I presume, sir?" the captain remarked in a respectful tone, addressing Mr. Dinsmore.

      "Yes, my daughter's, which amounts to the same thing," that gentleman replied in a tone of indifference; then changing the subject, made some inquiries about the speed СКАЧАТЬ