THE LIBRARY OF THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LOS ANGELES GIFT OF MABEL R. GILLIS A LIST OF THE ELSIti BOOKS AND OTHER POPULAR BOOKS BY MARTHA F1NLEY ELSIE DINSMORE. ELSIE'S HOLIDAYS AT ROSELANDS. ELSIE'S GIRLHOOD. ELSIE'S WOMANHOOD. ELSIE'S MOTHERHOOD. ELSIE'S CHILDREN. ELSIE'S WIDOWHOOD. GRANDMOTHER ELSIE. ELSIE'S NEW RELATIONS. ELSIE AT NAN TUCKET. THE TWO ELSIES. ELSIE'S KITH AND KIN. SLSIE'S FRIENDS AT WOODBURN. CHRISTMAS WITH GRANDMA ELSIE. ELSIE AND THE RAYMONDS. ELSIE YACHTING WITH THE RAYMONDS. ELSIE'S VACATION. ELSIE AT VIAMEDE. LSIE A T ION. ELSIE AT THE WORLD'S FAIR. ELSIE'S JOURNEY ON INLAND WATERS. ELSIE AT HOME. ELSIE ON THE HUDSON. ELSIE IN THE SOUTH. ELSIE'S YOUNG FOLKS. MILDRED KEITH. MILDRED AT ROSELANDS. MILDRED'S MARRIED LIFE. MILDRED AND ELSIE. MILDRED AT HOME. MILDRED'S BOYS AND GIRLS. MILDRED'S NEW DAUGHTER. CASELLA. SIGNING THE CONTRACT AND WHAT IT COST. THE TRAGEDY OF WILD RIVER VALLEY. OUR FRED. AN OLD-FASHIONED BOY. WANTED, A PEDIGREE. THE THORN IN THE NEST. MILDRED AT HOME; WITH SOMETHING ABOUT HER RELATIVES AND FRIENDS. A SEQUEL TO MILDRED'S MARRIED LIFE. MAKTHA FINLEY, AUTHOR or THE "ELSIE BOOKS," " MILDRED "MttDBBD AND ELSIE," "SIGNING THB CONTRACT," ETC., TC. NEW YORK : DODD, MEAD & COMPANY, PUBLISHERS. Copyright, 1884, by DODD, MEAD & COMPANY. MILDRED AT HOME, Chapter Jfirst "A word epoken in due season, how good is it 1" PBOY. 15 : 25. " I'M to be dressed in white, mammy, with blue sash and ribbons, papa says, and to go back to him as soon as you are done with me." " Is you, honey ? but co'se you is ; you mos' neber wears nuffin but white when de warm days comes ; an' massa can't do widout his darlin' pet, now all de res' am gone. " " No ; nor I without him," Elsie said, tears springing to her eyes. " Oh, don't these rooms seem lonely, mammy ? Don't you miss Annis ?" " Co'se, honey, co'se I dose ; but tank de Lord, I'se got my own darlin' chile lef ." " And I have you and papa left," re- 57' 4 MILDRED AT HOME. turned the little girl, smiling through her tears, " and that's a great deal ; papa alone is more than half of all the world to me, and you know 1 could never do without you, mammy." " Yo' ole mammy hopes you'll always tink like dat, honey," said Chloe, taking out the articles needed for the little girl's toilet. "'Pears like ole times come back," she re marked presently, combing a glossy ringlet round her finger ; " de ole times befo' we went up Norf and massa got married to Miss Kose." " Yes ; .and oh, mammy, papa has said I may be with him all day long, from the time I'm up in the morning and dressed, till I have to go to bed at night. Isn't it nice ?" " Berry nice plan, honey ; 'spect it keep bofe you and massa from feelin' mos' poVful lonesome." " Yes," Elsie said ; " and I like it ever so much for a little while, but 1 wouldn't for anything be without mamma and Horace all the time." Aunt Chloe was still busy with the ring lets. She took almost as much pride and de light in their beauty and abundance as the fond father himself, and was apt to linger MILDRED AT HOME. 5 lovingly over her task. But Elsie, though wont to endure with exemplary patience and resignation the somewhat tedious and trying ordeal of combing and curling, never com plaining, though now and then compelled to wince when the comb caught in a tangle and mammy gave a pull that was far from pleas ant, would sometimes have been glad to have them cut off would papa only have given con sent. 11 Dar, honey, dat job am done," Aunt Chloe said at length, laying aside the comb and brush. " Now fo' de dress and ribbons, an' den you kin go back to massa." "I want to just as soon as I can," said the little girl. " What goin' be done 'bout pourin' de tea to-night ?" asked Aunt Chloe presently, rather as if thinking aloud than speaking to Elsie. "Why," queried the little girl, "won't Mrs. Murray do it as usual ?" " Dunno, chile, she hab pow'ful bad head ache." "Has she? How sorry I am ! Oh, I wonder if papa would let me try !' ' " 'Spect so, honey, ef you axes him," said Aunt Chloe, giving a final adjustment to the bows of the sash and the folds of the dress. 6 MILDRED AT HOME. " So I will," cried the little girl, skipping away. But the next instant, coming to a sudden standstill and turning toward her nurse a face full of concern, " Mammy," she asked, " do you think I can do anything to help poor Mrs. Murray's head ?" " No, chile, she ain't wantin' nuffin but to be let 'lone till de sickness am gone." " I wish I could help her," sighed Elsie, in a tenderly pitying tone ; " I'm very sorry for her, but hope she will be well again to morrow." Two gentlemen were sitting in the veran da. Each turned a smiling, affectionate look upon the little girl as she stepped from the open doorway, the one saying, " "Well, daugh ter," the other, " How are you to-day, my little friend ?" " Quite well, thank you, Mr. Tra villa. How are you, sir?" she said, putting her small white hand into the larger, browner one he held out to her. He kept it for a minute or two while he chatted with her about the cousins who had just left for their Northern home, after spend ing the winter as guests at the Oaks, and of her mamma and baby brother, who were trav elling to Philadelphia in their company. MILDRED AT HOME. 7 " I dare say the house seems very quiet and rather lonely ?" he remarked, inquiringly. " Yes, sir ; especially in my rooms," she said, glancing round at her father, who was silently listening to their talk ; " but papa has promised to let me be with him all the time during the day. So I shall not mind it so much." ' ' "Was not that a rather rash promise, Dinsmore?" asked Mr. Travilla, with mock gravity. " Well, if you tire of her company at any time, we of Ion shall be delighted to have her sent to us." " Thank you," Mr. Dinsmore said, with a humorous look at his little girl ; "I shall certainly send her to you directly I tire of her society." Elsie glanced searchingly into his face ; then with a happy laugh ran to him, and put ting her arm about his neck, said, " I'm not the least bit frightened, papa ; not at all afraid that you will want to be rid of me. I hope I'm not quite so silly as I was once when Mr. Travilla made me think you might give me away to him." " But it was only a loan I was asking for this time, my little friend," was Mr. Tra villa' s pleasant rejoinder. 8 MILDRED AT HOME. ".Yes, sir; but if you borrow me you'll have to borrow papa too for the same length of time," Elsie said, with a merry laugh. 1 'Won't he, papa?" " 1 think he cannot have you on any easier terms," Mr. Dinsmore answered ; " for I cer tainly cannot spare you from home while 1 stay here alone." " A very satisfactory arrangement to me, provided we are allowed to keep you both as long as we wish,' ' Mr. Travilla said, rising as if to take leave. But an urgent invitation to stay to tea in duced him to resume his seat. Then Elsie preferred her request. It was granted at once, her father saying, with a pleased look, " I should like to see how well you can fill your mamma's place ; and if you show yourself capable, you may do so always in her absence, if you wish." " Oh, thank you, papa," she cried in de light. "I'll do my very best. But I'm glad there are no strangers to tea to-night to see me make my first attempt. You are a guest, Mr. Travilla, but not a stranger," she added, with a bright, winsome look up at him. "Thank you, my dear," he said; "it Vrould be a grief of heart to me to be looked MILDRED AT HOME. 9 upon in that light by the little girl whose af fection I value so highly." " You are very kind to say so, sir," she returned, with a blush and a smile, " and I be lieve I'm every bit as fond of you as if you were my uncle. I have often heard papa say you and he were like brothers, and that would make you my uncle, wouldn't it ?" "Yes," her father said; " and so good and kind an uncle would be something to be thankful for, wouldn't it? Ah," rising and taking her hand, " there is the tea-bell. Now for your experiment. "Will you walk out with us, Travilla?" Both gentlemen watched the little girl with loving interest while she went through the duties of her new position with a quiet grace and dignity that filled her father with proud delight, and increased the admiration already felt for her by his friend. On leaving the table they returned to the veranda, where the gentlemen sat conversing, with Elsie between them. But presently Mr. Dinsmore, hearing that some one from the quarter wished to speak to him, left the other two alone for a while. " Elsie," Mr. Travilla said softly, taking 10 MILDRED AT HOME. the little girl's hand in his, " I have some thing to tell you." Her only reply was an inquiring look, and he went on : " Something which I am sure you will be glad to hear. But first let me ask if you remember a talk we had together one morning at Roselands, the first summer after your father and I returned from Europe ?" " You were so kind as to talk to me a good many times, sir," Elsie answered doubt- fully. " This was the morning after your fall from the piano-stool. I found you in the garden reading your Bible and crying over it," he said. " And in the talk that followed you expressed great concern at the discovery that I had no love for the Lord Jesus Christ. A text you quoted ' If any man love not the Lord Jesus Christ, let him be anathema mar- anatha ' has since come very frequently to my recollection, and troubled my conscience not a little." Elsie was now listening with intense inter est. Mr. Travilla paused for a moment, his face expressing deep emotion ; then resumed : " I think God's Holy Spirit has thorough ly convinced me of the exceeding sinfulness of unbelief ; of refusing or neglecting His MILDRED AT HOME. 11 offered salvation through the atoning blood of His dear Son ; refusing to give to the Lord Jesus the poor little return of the best love of my heart for all He has done and suffered in my stead. This is what I had to tell you, my dear little friend. I have found Jesus have given myself unreservedly to Him, to be His for time and for eternity, and I have been led to do this mainly through your instrumental- ity." Tears of joy filled the little girl's eyes. " I am so glad, Mr. Tra villa, so very glad !" she exclaimed. "It is the best news I could possibly have heard." "Thank you, my dear," he said, with feeling. " I can now understand your anxiety for my conversion, for I myself am conscious of a yearning desire for the salvation of souls, especially of those of my friends and acquaint ances." " And now you will join the church, won't you, sir ?" " I don't know, Elsie ; that is a question of duty I have not yet decided. There are so many of its members who are a disgrace to their profession, that I fear I might prove so also. What do you think about it ?" "I'm only a little child, not half so wise 12 MILDRED AT HOME. as you are, sir," she answered, with unaffect ed modesty. " Still, I should like to hear your opinion. " After a moment's hesitation and silent thought she lifted a very earnest face to his. 1 ' God tells us that He is able to keep us from falling. And don't you think, Mr. Travilla, that it's what the Bible says we should be guided by, and not what somebody else thinks ?" " Yes ; that is quite true." " ' To the law and to the testimony : if they speak not according to this word, it is be cause there is no light in them,' " she quoted. " You have studied the Bible so much longer than I," he said, " can you tell me where to look for its directions in regard to this matter ? Does it really give any ?" " Yes, sir ; oh, yes ! Is not joining the church confessing Christ before men, own ing Him as our Master, our Lord, our God ?" He nodded assent. Elsie called to a servant lounging near, and sent him for her Bible. 11 Can you find the texts you want without a concordance ?" Mr. Travilla asked, regard ing her with interest as she took the book and opened it. MILDRED AT HOME. 13 ' ' I think I can, ' ' she answered, turning over the leaves ; " I have read them so often. Yes, here Matt. 10 : 32, 33 is one : ' Who soever therefore shall confess me before men, him will I confess also before my Father which is in heaven. But whosoever shall deny me before men, him will I also deny before my Father which is in heaven.' ' She gave him a questioning, pleading look. "Yes," he said, in a subdued tone, "I think that is to the point ; at least, if we grant that joining the church is the only way of confessing Christ." " Oh, don't you see ? Don't you think, Mr. Travilla, that if we love Him with all our hearts we will want to confess Him every where and in every way that we can ? Won't we want everybody to know that we belong to Him, and own Him as our Master, our Lord, our King ?" she exclaimed with eager enthu siasm, her voice taking a tone of earnest en treaty. " I believe you are right," he said ; " that would be the natural effect of such love as we ought to feel as I am sure you do feel for Him." " I do love Him, but not half so much as I ought," she answered with a sigh, as again 14 MILDRED AT HOME. she turned over the leaves of her Bible. " I often wonder how it is that my love to Him is so cold compared to His for me. It is as though I gave Him but one little drop in re turn for a mighty ocean." A tear fell on th page as she spoke. Then again she read : " ' The gift of God is eternal life through Jesus Christ our Lord. ' ' The word is nigh thee, even in thy mouth and in thy heart' that is, the word of faith which we preach ; ' that if thou shalt confess with thy mouth the Lord Jesus, and shalt be lieve in thine heart that God hath aised Him from the dead, thou shalt be saved. For with the heart man believeth unto righteous ness ; and with the mouth confession is made unto salvation.' " Looking up at him, " Oh, Mr. Tra villa," she said, " shall we refuse to be soldiers at all because there are some traitors in the army ? Isn't there all the more need of brave, true men for that very reason ? plenty of them to fight the Lord's battles and conquer His ene mies ?" " Yes ; but cannot one do that without becoming a member of a church ?" " Wouldn't that be a queer kind of an army where there was no concert of action, MILDRED AT HOME. 15 but every man fought separately in the way that seemed best to himself ?" she asked, with modest hesitation. " I've read about the armies and battles of our ^Revolution and other wars, and I don't remember that there was ever a great victory except where a good many men were joined under one leader." " Yery true," he replied, thoughtfully. " And if you love Jesus, Mr. Travilla, how can you help wanting to obey His dying command, l Do this in remembrance of me '? And that we cannot do unless we are members of some church." " I should not hesitate, Elsie, if I were but sure of being able to hold out, and not disgrace my profession, " he said. Mr. Dinsmore returned to the veranda and sat down again by Elsie's side, just in time to hear his friend's last sentence. "It is a profession of religion you are speaking of, I presume," he said, half inquir ingly. " Well, Travilla, we must be content to take one step at a time as we follow our Leader ; to put on the armor and go into bat tle trusting in the Captain of our salvation to lead us on to final victory. He bids us ' fear not ; I will help thee. ' ' As thy days, so shall thy strength be. ' ' He keepeth the feet of 16 MILDRED AT HOME. His saints.' ' Who shall separate us from the love of Christ ? . . . We are more than con querors through Him that loved us. For I am persuaded that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor powers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor height, nor depth, nor any other creature, shall be able to separate us from the love of God which is in Christ Jesus our Lord,' for His chosen, His redeemed ones are kept by the power of God through faith unto salvation. :For ' He is able to keep you from falling."* Cfjapte "This we commanded you, that if any would not work, neither should he eat." 2 THESS. 3 : 10. MR. TRA VILLA had gone, and Mr. Dins- more and his little daughter sat alone upon the veranda ; she upon his knee, his arm about her waist. Some moments had passed without a word spoken by either. Elsie's eyes were downcast, her face full of solemn jy- " What is my little girl thinking of ?" her father asked at length. " Oh, papa, I am so glad, so happy, so thankful !" she said ; and as she looked up into hig face he saw that tears were glistening in her eyes. ' ' You are seldom other than happy, I think and hope," he responded, softly strok ing her hair. "Yes, very seldom, dear papa. How could anybody be unhappy with so many, many blessings to be thankful for, especially 18 MILDRED AT HOME. such a dear, kind father to love and take care of me ? But I am happier than usual to night because of the good news Mr. Travilla has told me." "Ah, what was that?" " That he has found the Saviour, papa, and that it was partly through my instrumen tality. Isn't it strange that God should have so honored a child like me ?" " Ah, I don't know that it is. * A little child shall lead them,' the Bible says. ' Out of the mouth of babes and sucklings thou hast perfected praise.' God often works by the feeblest instrumentality, that thus all may see that the glory is due to Him alone. I re joice with you, my darling, for no greater blessing can be ours than that of being per mitted to win souls to Christ." " Yes, papa ; but I am so far from being what I ought," she added, with unaffected humility, " that I wonder I have not proved a stumbling-block instead of a help." " Give the glory to God," he said. " Yes, papa, I know it all belongs to Him. Oh, don't you hope Mr. Travilla will be with us next Sabbath ?' ' " At the Lord's table ? I do indeed. It is a precious privilege I have long wished to MILDRED AT HOME. 10 share with him ; a means of grace no Chris tian ought ever to neglect ; a command that as the last and dying one of our blessed Mas ter we should joyfully obey whenever oppor tunity is afforded us, yet with the utmost en deavor to be in a proper frame of mind ; for * he that eateth and drinketh unworthily, eateth and drinketh damnation to himself, not dis cerning the Lord's body.' It is a dreadful sin for any one to sit down to that table without having examined himself of his knowledge to discern the Lord's body, of his faith to feed upon Him, repentance, love, and new obedi ence. Let us both pray earnestly for grace and help to partake worthily, repenting of every sin, hating and forsaking it, and devot ing ourselves anew and unreservedly to the Master's service." " I will, papa," she said. " And should we not meditate on Jesus while at His table ?" " Yes, He should be the principal theme of our thoughts all through the exercises ; we should remember Him the loveliness of His character, the life He led, the death He died, and all that He has done and suffered for us.' ' They fell into silent thought again. Elsie was the first to speak. " I wonder where they are now, papa ?" SO MILDRED AT HOME. ' ' Who, our travellers ? Well, we cannot tell precisely ; but I hope it will not be very long before we shall hear of their safe arrival in Philadelphia. " " That will end the journey for mamma and Horace," she remarked; "but what a long one the others will still have before them ! I should think Annis would feel as if she must hurry on as fast as possible till she gets home to her father and mother." " Yery possibly she may ; but I know that Dr. Landreth and Mildred intend resting for some days in Philadelphia. So Annis will be obliged to curb her impatience, which the sights of the city will no doubt help her to do." At that instant Elsie gave a sudden start, asking in an awed, tremulous whisper, " Papa, what is that ?' ' nestling closer to him as she spoke. It was growing dusk, and a shadowy fig ure, dimly seen by the waning light, had just emerged from the shadow of a large tree at some distance down the drive. It was now stealing cautiously in their direction. "Don't be alarmed, dearest," Mr. Dins- more said, tightening his clasp of Elsie's slight form ; " I presume it is some runaway whom. MILDRED AT HOME. 21 hunger has forced to show himself. ' ' Then calling to the figure which continued to ad vance with slow, faltering steps, " Halt 1 Who are you, and what is your business here ?" he asked. " I'se Zeke, massa," answered a trembling voice ; " I'se come back to wuk, an' hopes you won't be hawd on a po' niggah wha's re- pentin' an' pow'ful sorry fo' takin' a holiday widout yo' leave, sah. " Mr. Dinsmore made no reply, and the man drew nearer. ' ' I'se pow'ful sorry, massa," he repeated, pausing at the foot of the veranda steps, and standing there in a cringing attitude, his rags flutter ing in the evening breeze, the remnant of a straw hat in his hand ; " hope you won't order me no floggin'." " If you choose to go back where you came from, I shall not interfere with you, Zeke," returned Mr. Dinsmore, coolly. ' I'se done tired o' de swamp, sah ; I'se like to starve to deff dar ; hain't tasted not de fust mawsel o' victuals fo' de las' two days." " Oh, poor fellow, how hungry he must be !" exclaimed Elsie. " Papa, won't you please give him something to eat ?" " He won't work, Elsie ; since I have known him he has never earned his salt." 22 MILDEED AT HONE. "But, papa," she pleaded, "wouldn't it be wrong and cruel to let him starve while we have plenty and to spare ?" " "Would it ? God's command is, ' Six days shalt thou labor and do all thy work.' And Paul says to the Thessalonians, ' Even when we were with you, this we commanded you, that if any would not work, neither should he eat. ' ' Elsie turned to the suppliant. " Zeke, you hear what the Bible says, and you know we must all obey its teachings." " Yes, Miss Elsie, dat's true nuff." " Then will you promise papa that if he feeds you now you will go to work industri ously to-morrow, if God spares your life ?" " Sho'n I will, Miss Elsie, 'cept I gets de misery in de back, or de head, or somewheres else." " He can always find a hole to creep out at, Elsie," Mr. Dinsmore said, with a slight laugh ; " those miseries never elude a deter mined search." " But, Zeke," said Elsie, "you mustn't give up for a little misery ; you mustn't try to feel one." " Sho' not ; but dey jes' comes dere- elves, little missy." MILDRED AT HOME. 23 " And some people give them every en couragement, while others work on in spite of them,' ' remarked his master, with some stern ness of tone. " I assure you, Zeke, that I have myself done many an hour's work while enduring a racking headache." "You, sah? T' ought you didn't never do no wuk." ' ' Just because you never saw me take hold of spade or hoe ? One may toil far harder with the mind, Zeke. "Well, I will give you one more trial. Go to the kitchen and tell Aunt Dinah, from me, that she is to give you something to eat ; and to-morrow you must go to work with the rest in the field or starve. And mind, if you have been without food as long as you say, you mustn't eat nearly so much as you want to-night, or you'll kill yourself. ' ' " Tank you, sah, I 'cepts de conditions ;" and with a low bow, first to Mr. Dinsmore, then to Elsie, he turned and shambled off in the direction of the kitchen. " Papa, is he so very lazy ?" asked Elsie. " Very ; he would do nothing but lie in the sun if allowed to follow his own pleasure, though he is young, strong, and healthy. He disappeared some days ago, but I permitted 24 MILDRED AT HOME. no search to be made for him, and should have been better pleased had I never seen him again. ' ' " Papa, perhaps he might do better at some other work ; in the garden or about the stables." " Possibly. I think I shall try acting upon your suggestion." " Oh, thank you, sir," she said. Then after a moment's thoughtful silence : " Papa y we are sitting here doing nothing at all ; yet I know you must think it right, else you wouldn't do it, or let me." " It is right : neither body nor mind was made capable of incessant exertion ; we need intervals of rest, and can accomplish more in the end by taking them when needed. Jesus once said to His disciples, ' Come ye your selves apart into a desert place, and rest a. while.'" " Oh, yes! 1 remember it now," she- said. " How good and kind, how thoughtful for others, He always was ! Papa, I do so- want to be like Him." "I think you are, my darling," he an swered in moved tones, and pressing her closer to him ; " like Him in sufficient measure for those who know you in your daily life to ' taka MILDRED AT HOME. 25 knowledge of you that you have been with Jesus ' and learned of Him." " Papa, you couldn't say sweeter words to me," she whispered, with her arm about his neck ; and he felt a tear fall on his cheek. " And you, papa ; oh, I am sure no one could be long in your company without feeling sure you were one of Jesus' disciples." " I hope that is so," he said with feeling ; " for, like you, I most earnestly desire to honor Him by my daily walk and conversa tion, and to be always and everywhere recog nized as His servant." Elsie, who had the kindest of hearts, thought of Zeke while her mammy was pre paring her for bed that night, and again while going through the duties of her morning toilet. That completed, she hastened to her father with a request that Zeke might be set to work in her own little garden. ' ' Weeding and watering it would be very pleasant, easy work, 1 am sure," she added. " 1 like to do it myself ." " 1 doubt if Zeke would know weeds from flowers," her father said, smiling down into the eager little face. " But I will show him, papa, if I may." " Tou may do just as you please about 26 MILDRED AT HOME. it," was the indulgent reply. "We will have our reading and prayer together, and then you may send for Zeke, and give him his instructions." " Oh, thank you, papa !" she exclaimed, with as sincere joy and gratitude as though she had won some great favor for herself. Mr. Dinsmore rang for a servant, and sent a message to Zeke. He was directed to make himself clean and decent, and come to the veranda for further orders. He obeyed. Elsie found him waiting there, and taking him to her garden ex plained minutely what she wished him to do, calling his attention particularly to the differ ence between the leaves of the weeds that were to be uprooted and those of some an nuals not yet in bloom. He promised faithfully to attend to her directions and to be industrious. "Don't you think it's nicer, easier work than what you would have had to do in the field ?" she asked. " Ya-as, Miss Elsie," he drawled, "but it's stoopin' all de same, and I'se got de mis ery in de back. ' ' She gave him a searching look, then said reproachfully, " O Zeke, you don't look MILDRED AT HOME. 27 the least bit sick, and I can't help being afraid you are really lazy. Remember God knows all about it, and is very much displeased with you, if you are not speaking the truth." " Sho I'se gwine to wuk anyhow, honey," he answered, with a sound between a sigh and a groan, as he bent down and pulled up a weed. " That's right," she said pleasantly, as she turned and left him. An hour later, coming out to see what progress he was making, she found nearly all her beloved annuals plucked up by the roots, and lying withering among the weeds in the scorching sun. " Oh, how could you, Zeke !" she cried, her eyes filling with tears. "Why, what's de mattah, Miss Elsie?" he asked, gaping at her in open-mouthed wonder, not unmixed with apprehension and dismay. " Matter ? You have been pulling up flowers as well as weeds. That is one you have in your fingers now." Zeke dropped it as if it had been a hot coal, and stood staring at it where it lay wilt ing on the hot ground. " Sho, Miss Elsie, 1 didn't go fo' to do no sech t'ing," he said 28 MILDRED AT HOME. plaintively ; " t'ought I was doin' 'bout right. Shall I plant 'em agin ?" " No ; they wouldn't grow," she said. " Dis niggah's mighty sorry, Miss Elsie. You ain't gwine to hab him sent back to de wuk in de field, is you ?" he asked, with humble entreaty. " I'm afraid that is all you are fit for, Zeke ; but the decision rests with papa. I will go and speak to him about it. Don't try to do any more work here, lest you do more mischief," she said, turning toward the house. He hurried after her. ' ' Please now, Miss Elsie, don' go for to 'suade massa agin dis po' niggah." " No, I shall not," she answered kindly ; " perhaps there is something else you can be set at about the house or grounds. But, Zeke," turning to him and speaking very earnestly, "you will never succeed at any thing unless you strive against your natural laziness, and try to do your best. That is what God bids us all do. He says, ' Whatso ever thy hand findeth to do, do it with thy might.' ' Whatsoever ye do, do it heartily, as to the Lord and not unto men. ' ' " S'pect dat's so, Miss Elsie," he drawled ; " but de Lawd He ain't gwine to take no no- MILDRED AT HOME. 29 tice what a po' niggah's 'bout in de field or de garden." " That's a great mistake, Zeke," she said. *' His eye is always on you on everybody ; and He is pleased with us if He sees us trying to do faithfully the work He has given us, no matter how low the task may seem to us or other human creatures, and displeased if we are not trying to do it ' as to the Lord and not unto men.' ' " You ain't 'fended 'bout dose po' flowahs what dis po' niggah bin pull up in a mistake, is you now, Miss Elsie ?" he asked. Evidently her religious teachings had made no more impression than the idle whistling of the wind. "No, Zeke, I only can't trust you again," she said, turning away with a slight sigh over her failure to win him from his inborn indolence. She hastened to her father with the story of what had occurred. " Ah ! it is about what I had expected," he said. " I am sorry for your loss, but it can soon be repaired. Have you left Zeke there to finish the work of destruction ?" " No, sir ; I told him to stop till he heard from you. ' ' " He shall go back to the field at once ; 30 MILDRED AT HOME. there is no propriety in giving him an oppor tunity to do further mischief," Mr. Dinsmore said, with a decision that left no room for re monstrance ; and summoning a servant sent the order. Elsie heard it with a sigh. " What now ? Tou are not wasting pity on that incorrigibly lazy wretch ?' ' her father asked, drawing her caressingly to his knee. " I did hope to do him some good, papa,'* she sighed, "and I'm disappointed that I can't." " There may be other opportunities in the future," he said. "And do not fret about the flowers. You are welcome to claim all in my gardens and conservatories." " How good and generous you always are to me, you dear father !" she said, thanking him with a hug and kiss, while her face grew bright with love and happiness. ' ' No, I won't fret ; how wicked it would be for one who has so many blessings ! But, papa, I can't help feeling sorry for the little tender plants, plucked up so rudely by the roots and left to perish in the broiling sun. They were live things, and it seems as if they must have felt it all, and suffered almost as an insect or an animal would." MILDRED AT HOME. 31 Her father smiled, and smoothed her hair with softly caressing hand. "My little girl has a very tender heart, and is full of loving sympathy for all living things," he said. " Ah, Travilla. Glad to see you !" as at that instant that gentleman galloped up and dis mounted. " So am I, sir," Elsie said, leaving her father's knee to run with outstretched hand to meet and welcome their guest. He clasped the little hand in his, and held it for a moment, while he bent down and kissed the sweet lips of its owner. " What news?" Mr. Dinsmore asked, when he had given his friend a seat and resumed his own. " None that 1 know of, except that I have come to your view (which is my mother's also) of the subject we were discussing yester day, and have decided to act accordingly," Mr. Travilla answered, with a rarely sweet smile directed to little Elsie. " Oh !" she cried, her face growing radi ant, " 1 am so glad, so very glad !" " And 1, too," said her father. u 1 am sure you will never regret having come out boldly on the Lord's side." " No ; my only regret will be that I de layed so long enrolling myself among His pro- 32 MILDRED AT HOME. fessed followers. I now feel an ardent desire to be known and recognized as His servant, and am ready to go forward, trusting implic itly His many great and precious promises to help me all my journey through." " ' Being confident of this very thing, that He which hath begun a good work in you will perform it until the day of Jesus Christ ' ?" quoted Mr. Dinsmore inquiringly. "Yes," said Mr. TraviUa, "for He is able to keep that which I have committed unto Him ; able to keep even me from falling." AUNT WEALTHY. DE. LANDRETH and his party reached Phil adelphia in due season, arriving in health and safety, having met with no accident or loss by the way. Mrs. Dinsmore found her father and the family carriage waiting for her and her baby boy at the depot. The others took a hack and drove to the Girard House, where Miss Stanhope, who had been visiting friends in the neighborhood of the city, had appointed to meet them, that they and she might journey westward in com pany. She was there waiting for them in a private parlor. The meeting was a joyful one to the two ladies, who, though always warmly attached, had now been separated for a number of years. They clasped each other in a long, tender embrace ; then Mildred introduced 34 MILDRED AT HOME. her husband, and exhibited her baby with much pride and delight ; Annis, too, for she had quite grown out of Aunt Wealthy's recol lection, and had scarce any remembrance of the old lady, except from hearing her spoken of by the other members of the family. The travellers were weary with their jour ney, and there was much to hear and tell ; so the remainder of that day was given up to rest and talk, a part of the latter being on the arrangement of their plans. Mildred pro posed that they should take a week or more for rest and shopping, then turn their faces homeward. " You must allow some time for sight-see ing, my dear,' ' said her husband. " It would be a great shame to carry Annis all the way out to Indiana again without having shown her the lions of Philadelphia." " Oh, certainly she must see them," said Mildred. " You can show them to her while Aunt Wealthy and I are shopping." " You intend, then, to shut me out of that business ? How shall I know that you will not be ruining me ?' ' " My dear," said Mildred, laughing, " you forget how rich you have made me. I shall have no occasion to ruin anybody but myself." MILDRED AT HOME. 35 " And as for me," remarked Miss Stan hope drily, " I have my own purse." " And father has sent money to buy Ada's things, mother's, and Fan's, too," added Annis. " But, Milly, 1 must have some share in the shopping, too. I expect to en joy that as much as the sight-seeing." Mildred assured her she should have as- much as she wanted, adding, " But there will be a good deal which will not be likely to in terest you napery and other housekeeping: goods, for instance." ' ' Your share of those things will interest me, and must be paid for from my purse," put in the doctor. 11 Quite a mistake," said Miss Stanhope ^ ' ' those are the very things a bride or her parents are expected to supply. ' ' " But Mildred is no longer a bride. Milly, my dear, I want you to help me to select a dress for the bride that is to be." Mildred looked up with a pleased smile. " Just like you, Charlie ; always thoughtful and generous !" Ada Keith was the coming bride. She and Frank Osborne had been engaged for some weeks, and expected to marry in the fall. This news had increased Annis's desire to get 36 MILDRED AT HOME. home. She wanted, she said, to see how Mr. Osborne and Ada acted, and whether they looked very happy. " And just to think," she added, " when they're married Fan will be Miss Keith, and -we two will be the young ladies of the family." " Ah, indeed ! How old may you be, my little maid ?" laughed the doctor. " Most thirteen," returned the little girl, drawing herself up with an air of importance. ' ' A very young young lady, most decid edly," he said with a humorous look, bend ing down to pinch her rosy cheek as he spoke. "I'm growing older every day," she an swered demurely, edging away from him. " Father told me a year ago that I'd soon be .a woman." " Quite soon enough, dear ; don't try to hurry matters," said Aunt Wealthy. " You can never be a little girl again. ' ' Mildred, having brought a competent nurse with her thus far on her journey, a colored woman who would serve her in the care of little Percy while they remained in Philadel phia, then return to the South with Mrs. Dinsmore, was able to give herself to the shopping without distraction. MILDRED AT HOME. 31 As ehe had foreseen, the greater part of that work fell to her and Miss Stanhope, Dr. Landreth and Annis accompanying them con stantly for a day or two only, after that for an. hour or so when something was to be pur chased in which they were specially interested. But the two ladies were equal to the de mand upon them ; Mildred had had a good deal of experience in shopping in the last few years, and Miss Stanhope was a veteran at the business an excellent judge of qualities and prices yet by reason of her absent-minded ness needed to have her knowledge supple mented by the collected wits of her niece. The old lady's odd ways and speeches often caused no little amusement to all within eight and hearing. One day she, her two nieces, and Dr. Lan- dreth were in a large, handsomely appointed dry-goods store, looking at silks and other costly dress fabrics. They had made several selections, and while the doctor and Mildred paid for and saw the goods cut off and put up, Miss Stanhope moved on to the farther end of the room, where she saw, as she thought, an open door way leading into another of similar dimensions and appearance. 88 MILDRED AT HOME. As she attempted to pass through the doorway she found herself confronted by a little old lady rather plainly attired. Miss Stanhope nodded pleasantly, and stepped to the right. At the same instant her vis-a-vis nodded also, and stepped to her left, so that they were still in each other's way. Miss Stanhope moved quickly to the other side, but the stranger doing likewise, they did not suc ceed in passing. Miss Stanhope stood still, so did the other, and for an instant they gazed steadily into each other's eyes. Then Miss Stanhope spoke in a gentle, ladylike, yet slightly impatient tone : "I should like to go on into that part of the store, if you will kindly permit me. Take whichever side you will ; or, if you please, stand where you are and let me step past you." She attempted to do so, but again the stranger moved directly in front of her. "Madam," said Miss Stanhope, uncon sciously raising her voice slightly, " 1 will stand still if you will be good enough to step out of my way." There was neither reply nor movement, but Miss Stanhope's ear caught sounds of suppressed laughter coming from various MILDRED AT HOME. 39 directions in her rear, and a clerk, stepping to her side, said, with an unsuccessful attempt to preserve gravity of countenance and steadi ness of tone, " Excuse me, madam, but you are standing before a mirror. There is no doorway there. ' ' " Dear me ! so 1 am ! What an old sim pleton not to recognize my own face !" she exclaimed, joining good-naturedly in the laugh her mistake had raised. " Very good evidence that you are lack ing in the vanity that leads some to a fre quent contemplation of their own features," remarked the proprietor politely. 11 Ah, sir, an old woman like me has small temptation to that," she returned. "What was it, Aunt. Wealthy? What are you all laughing at ?" asked Annis, join ing her. " Just at a foolish mistake of your old auntie's, my dear, taking a mirror for an open doorway, and her own reflection for another woman who wouldn't get out of her way." Annis could not help laughing a little, though she tried not to, lest she should hurt the dear old lady's feelings. "I'm not much surprised, auntie," she said, gazing into the mirror, " for it does 40 MILDRED AT HOME. seem like looking into another store. I think I might have made that mistake myself ; but I never could have taken you for anybody- else, and it's odd you didn't know your self." " Ah, dearie, self-knowledge is said to be the most rare and difficult thing in the world,' ' returned Miss Stanhope pleasantly. " But. come, I see the doctor and Milly are waiting for us. ' ' " We are going to some trimming stores now, Aunt Wealthy, ' ' said Mildred, ' ' and you will be able to match your zephyrs, I hope." " Yes ; I'll have my samples out ready to show," the old lady answered, taking them from a small satchel which she carried upon her arm. " You and the doctor walk on. Annis and I will follow. Take tight hold of my arm, dearie, ' ' she added, holding it out as they stepped into the street, " lest you should get separated from me and lost in the crowd the streets are so full, and everybody seems. in the greatest hurry. ' ' " Yes," said Annis, doing as she was bid den, " so different from Pleasant Plains ; there one can hurry along or not as one likes without being jostled. There ! Milly and MILDBED AT HOME. 41 Brother Charlie have gone into a store, and we must follow." They hastened in, almost out of breath from their rapid walk. Miss Stanhope gently shook off Annis's hand, stepped to a counter, holding out her samples of zephyr, and ad dressing a clerk, remarked, " These are lovely colors !" " Yes," said the girl, staring ; " but what of it, ma'am ?" "My aunt wishes to match them," said Annis with dignity, resenting the half -insolent tone of the girl. " Oh ! go to the next counter." They moved on, Miss Stanhope smiling to herself at her own mistake, Annis with cheeks burning with indignation at the girl's rude stare and supercilious tone. " Don't forget what you want this time, auntie," she whispered, as they paused before the next counter. " No, dearie, but you mustn't mind your old auntie's blunders." This time they were waited upon by a sweet-faced, modest maiden, who showed her self both obliging and respectful. Miss Stanhope found just what she want ed. But Mildred was not ready to go yet, 42 MILDRED AT HOME. and while waiting for her the old lady and the little girl amused themselves in examining the various contents of a showcase. Annis- admired a necklace of amber beads, and Aunt "Wealthy bought it for her ; also another nearly like it for Fan. " Anything else, ma'am ?' ' asked the sales woman, as she wrapped them up. "Yes; one of those little purses," said Miss Stanhope ; " it is just what I want for small change and the trunk of my key, which I always carry in my pocket when travel- ling." With a slight smile the saleswoman handed out several. Miss Stanhope made her selection, and the query, " Anything else ?" was repeated. " Oh, yes !" exclaimed the old lady, as with sudden recollection ; " have you any rem nants ?" " Remnants ? of what ?" " Dress goods." " Oh, no ; we keep nothing but trim mings and notions.'* Mildred had finished her purchases, and coming up at that moment, asked, ' ' What is it, Aunt Wealthy ?" "Remnants.'" MILDRED AT HOME. 43 " Oh, yes ; of course you will want a sup ply of them," returned Mildred, with a good- humored, slightly amused smile ; " and yet "what use can you make of them now ? Even Annis has grown too large for a remnant to make her a dress." " But there's Percy, and Zillah's boy, too," was the prompt reply ; " besides, they an be put to many uses about a house." "Mightn't a remnant be big enough to make an apron for a lady even ?' ' asked Annis. " Yes," said Mildred ; " and as I know auntie enjoys buying them, we will look for some." They started at once on the quest, and Miss Stanhope was quite elated and triumph ant on finding, in two different stores, two remnants of beautiful lawn, exactly alike, which together would make an ample dress pattern for Annis, besides others that could be utilized for aprons for her and Fan, dresses for the baby boys, or patchwork for quilts. Remnants were quite a hobby with the old lady, and she could never feel quite satisfied with the results of a shopping expedition that did not include some bargains in that line. Returning to their hotel they found let- 44 MILDRED AT HOME. ters from the Oaks and from home awaiting them. "Ah, Milly," remarked the doctor, with satisfaction, as he glanced over his, " here are our measures. Rupert sends them. ' ' " Then they are sure to be right," she re sponded. "Measures for what?" inquired Miss Stanhope. " Wall paper and carpets for our new house ; it is ready for them." " Oh, how nice !" cried Annis, clapping her hands. " May I go with you to choose them, Brother Charlie ?' ' 1 ' We will be pleased to have your com pany and the benefit of your taste," was the gallant rejoinder, " Aunt Wealthy 's also." " Thank you," said Miss Stanhope, ab sently. " I'm glad you're so near being done with your house, and I think it's a good plan to buy your paper here ; but I'm afraid you'll have to put it on yourselves ; for though I remember there were some painterers in Pleasant Plains when 1 was there, I don't think there were any papers at all, and everybody's walls were whitewashed, as far as 1 can recollect." " But you know that was some years ago.. MILD BED AT HOME. 45 auntie," said Mildred, "and a good many luxuries have been introduced since then, paper-hangers among the rest. ' ' " And the Keith family are so handy that they can easily do such work for themselves, if necessary," laughed Annis. " The boys really did paper our house, and paint it, too. Do you see, Milly," holding up a letter, " this is from Elsie. She says she is having a lovely time all alone with her papa, but misses us ever so much, and hopes we will come back to spend next winter at the Oaks. ' ' " Tell her, when you write, that we are greatly obliged, but the journey is quite too long to take twice a year," returned Mildred gayly. " And we couldn't spend every winter away from father and mother," added Annis. " Oh, how glad I shall be to get home to them, and Fan, and the rest ! How soon can we start ?" "Time's up in another week, " answered the doctor, " and I judge, by the rate at which we've been going through the shopping and sight-seeing, that we'll be ready by then.'* " Gold I gold ! gold ! Bright and yellow, hard and cold 1" HOOD. A BEAUTIFUL spring day was drawing to a close as two persons a young man and a maiden seated themselves on a fallen tree on tlie western bank of the St. Joseph River. They had strolled a long distance from home, leaving the noise and bustle of the town far behind. They were a trifle weary with their walk, and it was pleasant to sit here and rest in the cool evening air, sweet with the scent of wildwood flowers, with the grass green about their feet, and no sound to break the stillness save the song of the cricket, the gen tle murmur of the breeze in the tree-tops, and the soft ripple of the water flowing swiftly onward, so bright and clear that it reflected, as in a mirror, its own grassy wooded banks and the rich purple, gold, and amber of the sunset clouds, while the pebbly bottom, with fishes MILDRED AT HOME. 47 great and small darting hither and thither, could be distinctly seen. For some time the two sat there silently, hand in. hand, the girl's eyes gazing steadily down into the water, her companion's fixed upon her face with an expression of ardent admiration and intense, yearning affection. It was a noble countenance, at this moment thoughtful and grave, even to sadness. "Ada, my love," he said at length, "it is a hard thing I am asking of you. 1 am ashamed of my selfishness." " No, no ! do not talk so. How could I bear to let you go alone, you who have no one in the wide world but me ?" she answered, in a low, tremulous tone, her eyes still upon the water ; then suddenly turning toward him, her face flushing with enthusiasm, her eyes shining through tears, " But it is not you that ask it of me, Frank ; no, not you, but One who has every right ; for has He not re deemed me with His own precious blood ? Is He not my Creator, Preserver, and bountiful Benefactor, and have I not given myself to Him, soul and body, in an everlasting covenant ? And shall I keep back any part of the price ? Oh, no, no ! Let me but make sure that it is His voice I hear saying,. 48 MILDRED AT HOME. { This is the way ; walk ye in it,' and I am ready to leave all and follow Him, though it be to the ends of the earth." "My darling," he said with emotion, tightening his clasp of the hand he held, "you have the right spirit; you view this matter in the right light. Yes, we are His, both of us, and may our only question of duty ever be, ' Lord, what wilt thou have me to do ? ' But if we see it our duty to go, the sacrifice I make will be as nothing to yours, my sweet girl." "Yet it will not be small, Frank. To leave forever one's dear native land is no slight thing, especially when it is to live among heathen people low, cruel, degraded idolaters." " That is true ; and yet oh, is there not joy in the thought of telling the old, old story of Jesus and His love to those who have never heard it, and who, if we do not carry it to them, may never hear it ?" " Yes, yes, indeed ! and in the thought that we are literally obeying His command, ' Go ye into all the world and preach the Gospel to every creature.' And how very slight will be our suffering and self-denial compared to His !' ' MILDRED AT HOME. 49 " But, Frank, how shall we determine this question ? How know whether we are truly- called to this great work ? Ah, it does not seem possible that 1 should ever be deemed worthy of such honor !' ' "We will continue to make it a subject of constant, earnest prayer," he said, "asking to be guided to a right decision ; also we will open our hearts to your parents, and consult them. If they refuse consent to your going, we will see in that an indication that the Lord's will is not that we should go. Labor ers are needed here also, and it may be that He will appoint us our work in this part of His vineyard. ' ' " Yes," she said ; " 1 could never feel it right to go if father and mother should oppose it. Yet I am sure they will not, if they see reason to believe we are called of the Master ; for ever since I can remember their most ardent wish for their children has been that they might be entirely devoted to His ser vice. ' ' At that very moment the honored parents- of whom she spoke, sitting side by side in the vine-covered porch of their home, resting after the labors of the day, were talking of their children, and rejoicing in the well- 50 MILDRED AT HOME. founded belief that most, if not all, of them had already given themselves to that blessed service. They spoke of Mildred and Annis, the eldest and youngest, now on the way home after their winter at the Oaks ; of Rupert, their eldest son, a prosperous and highly re spected man of business ; Cyril, absent at col lege ; Zillah, with her husband and babe, liv ing just across the street ; of Ada and her be trothed ; and, lastly, of the only two just then in sight Don and Fan down in the garden, seated on a bench under a spreading tree, the lad whittling, his sister watching him, with hands lying idly in her lap. There was languor in the droop of her slender figure ; the eyes that rested now upon Don's face, now on his work, were unnatu rally large and bright, and though a rich color glowed in her cheeks, her features were thin and sharp. " Stuart," said Mrs. Keith, in low, slightly tremulous tones, gazing fixedly at Fan as she spoke, " I am growing uneasy about that child ; she is not well. She scarcely com plains, but is losing flesh and strength very fast of late." " Only because she is growing so rapidly, MILDRED AT HOME. 51 I think, Marcia," he said ; " see what a brill iant color she has. ' ' " Not the bloom of health, 1 fear," sighed the mother. " I am very glad Dr. Landreth will be here soon. 1 hope he may be able to do something for her. " " I hope so, indeed. Perhaps it is change of climate and scene she needs. Probably it would have been better had she gone with the others last fall. " " I don't know ; it is too late to think of it now, but if Charlie recommends a trip, we must manage to give it to her. " " Certainly ; and in that case you will have to go too, for I doubt if anything could induce Fan to leave her mother." " No ; what a dear, affectionate child she- is ! And how she and Don cling to each other." In the pause that followed that last remark Fan's low, clear tones came distinctly to their ears. " Ah, now I see what you are making, Don ; a spoon, isn't it ?" " Yes ; it'll be very useful in the journey across the plains. ' ' " Whose journey ?" " Mine," he said ; then sang gayly : 52 MILDRED AT HOME, " O California ! oh, that's the land for me ! I'm bound for Sacramento, With the washbowl on my knee.' ' " That's the tune of ' O Susannah,' " she said, as he ceased ; " but where did you get those words ?" " Haven't you heard it before ?" he asked. *' They've been singing it all over town ; tho gold fever's raging, and a lot of fellows are talking of going off across the plains to the California diggings. If they do, I'd like to make one of the party." The parents, silently listening, exchanged .glances of mingled surprise and concern, while Fan exclaimed, " O Don, you can't be in earnest ?" "You'd better believe I am," laughed the lad. ' ' Why, it would be the greatest fun in the world, I think, to go and dig gold." "Exceedingly hard work, my boy," Mr. Keith said, raising his voice that it might reach the lad. Don started and turned his head. He had not thought of any one but Fan hearing his talk. " But we wouldn't mind working very- hard indeed for a little while to make a fort une, father," he answered in a lively tone, MILDRED AT HOME. 5$ springing up and advancing to the steps of the porch, Fan following, and seating herself upon them. " Ah, but who can insure the making of the fortune ?" asked Mr. Keith gravely. " Where one will succeed, Don, probably hundreds will fail and die of the great hard ships to be encountered in the search for gold the exhausting toil, scanty fare, and ex posure to the inclemencies of the weather. It cannot fail to be a rough and toilsome life,, full of danger and temptation, too ; for the- desperadoes and outlaws from all parts of the country, if not of the world, are always among the first to rush to such places ; and even men who behaved respectably at home often throw off all restraint there, and act like savages. ' ' " Think, too, of the dangers to be encoun tered by the way, Don," said his mother ; " a trackless wilderness to cross, supplies of food and water perhaps giving out, to say nothing of perils from wild beasts and hostile Indians. ' ' " Oh, mother," he said, "if you'd ever been a boy you'd know that danger has great attractions sometimes." 11 But oh, Don," exclaimed Fan, "just think what mother, and I, and all of us- 54 MILDRED AT HOME. would be Buffering from anxiety on your account !" 11 Ah, but you'd feel paid for it all when you saw me come home with my pockets full of gold!" " Gold far too dearly bought, if you came back to us a rough, hardened man, instead of the dear boy you are now,' ' said his mother. " I've no notion of ever becoming a rough, .mother mine," returned the lad in a half- playful tone ; " and what is virtue worth that can't stand temptation ?" " Not much, my son," said his father gravely ; " but what mockery to pray, ' Lead us not into temptation,' and then rush need lessly into it. But let the subject drop, for I am quite resolved never to give my consent to so wild a project." The boy's face clouded, but, accustomed to obedience, he ventured no reply. " Here, Fan, I'll give this to you," he said, handing her the now finished spoon. " Thank you ; it is very pretty," she re turned, regarding it admiringly. " Fan, dear, I think the dew is beginning to fall," said Mrs. Keith, rising ; " come in ; come both of you. "We will adjourn to the sitting-room." MILDRED AT HOME. 55 They did so, and were there presently- joined by Frank and Ada, who came in hand in hand, their faces full of a strange mixture of joy and sorrow. Mrs. Keith sat in a low rocking-chair, softly passing her hand over Fan's hair and cheek, the young girl having .seated herself on a stool at her mother's side, and laid her head in her lap. They, as well as Mr. Keith and Don, seemed to be silently musing as the other two entered. But all four looked up at the sound of their footsteps, and Mrs. Keith, noticing the unusual expression of their countenances, asked a little anxiously, " What is it, Ada, my child ?" Ada opened her lips to reply, but no sound came from them. Hastily withdrawing her hand from Frank's she sprang forward, and knelt beside her sister. " Mother, oh, mother, how can I ever leave you !" she exclaimed, tears coursing down her cheeks. Mrs, Keith was much surprised, knowing of no adequate cause for such emotion, espe cially in one usually so calm and undemon strative as Ada. 11 Dear child, " she said, caressing her, " we will hope never to be too far apart for fre- 56 MILDRED AT HOME. quent intercourse. Frank's present charge is. but a few miles distant." " But, mother, he thinks he is called to foreign missions, ' ' Ada returned in trembling tones ; " can you let me go ? Can you give me to that work ?" The query, so sudden, so unexpected, sent a keen pang to the tender mother's heart. With a silent caress she drew her loved child closer, and they mingled their tears together. " What what is this I hear, Frank ?' r asked Mr. Keith huskily, starting up and drawing nearer the little group ; for Frank had followed Ada, and stood looking down upon her, his features working with emotion. With an effort he controlled it, and in a few words gave the desired information. " He had for some time felt an increasing in-. terest in the foreign work, and desire to give himself to it should it be made plain that he was called of God to that part of the field." " Oh no, no !" cried Fan, putting her arms about her sister's neck, " we can't spare you. Why mayn't Frank work for the Master here as well as there ? Laborers are needed in both places." "Very true," said Frank, " and I trust our earnest desire is to be guided to that part MILDRED AT HOME. 57 of the vineyard where the Master would have as." "It shall be my prayer that you may, " said the mother with emotion, drawing Ada's head to a resting-place on her breast as she spoke ; " and dearly, dearly as I love my child, hard as it will be to part with her, 1 cannot hesitate for a moment if the Master calls her to go." " No, nor can I," Mr. Keith said, sighing and bending down to stroke Ada's hair in tender, fatherly fashion. Jfiftf), " Home is the resort Of love, of joy, of peace, and plenty, where, Supporting and supported, polish'd friends And dear relations mingle into bliss." THOMSON'S Statont. THE sweetest of May mornings ; the sun shines brightly in a sky of heavenly blue r wherein float soft, fleecy clouds of snowy whiteness, casting faint shadows now here, now there, over the landscape. The forest trees have donned their spring robes of tender green, and at their feet the earth is carpeted with grass spangled with myriads of lovely wild flowers of varied hues ; the air is redo lent of their sweet breath and vocal with the songs of the birds in the tree-tops and all the pleasant sounds of rural life. Everything, eeems so bright, so fresh, and new that Annis, as the stage rolls rapidly onward, bringing her every moment nearer home, is almost wild with delight, while the older members of the- MILDRED AT HOME. 5? party, if less demonstrative, are scarcely les? happy. They counted the miles, as those at home were counting the hours and the minutes. The journey from Philadelphia to Northern Indiana was far more tedious and wearisome in those days than it is now, and they were tired enough of travel to be glad to reach their journey's end ; rest would be delightful ; but it was the thought of home and dear ones that constituted their chief joy. The stage was due in Pleasant Plains just at noon, and to-day, having no hinderance from bad weather or bad roads, arrived punc tually to the minute. The mail was dropped at the post-office, a passenger at the hotel. " To Lawyer Keith's next ?" queried the driver, bending down from his high seat to bestow a roguish look and smile upon the im patient Annis. "Yes," Dr. Landreth said, "we all be long there." The stage was sweeping on again before he had half finished his sentence. In another minute it drew up at the gate, and oh the greetings, the embraces that fol lowed ! the happy laughter, the looks of love, the tears of joy ! for to the younger ones the 60 MILDRED AT HOME. separation had seemed very long, as, in deed, so far as Miss Stanhope was concerned,, it really had been. The mutual affection of herself and niece was like that of mother and daughter, and they had not seen each other' s faces for more than ten years. All the family loved the old lady, and she came in for her full share of the. joyous welcome. Zillah was there with her husband and babe, and Ada had her betrothed by her side. They sat down to dinner together, a large and happy party, most of them more disposed for conversation, however, than for doing justice to the fare upon which Celestia Ann had expended much thought and skill. She was still with Mrs. Keith, devotedly attached to her and the whole family, and no- one had bestowed a heartier hug upon Annis,, Mildred, or even Aunt Wealthy, than thia somewhat forward but very warm-hearted maiden. '*' You don't none o' ye eat half as much as you'd orter, considerin' what a sight o-' trouble I took a-gettin' up this dinner," she grumbled, as she waited on the table. " I remembered all your likings Miss Milly's, and Miss Stanhope's, and Annis' s and dona MILDRED AT HOME. 61 my best to f oiler 'em all. I broiled the chickings, and smashed the 'taters, and took a sight o' pains with the pies and puddin's ; but you don't none o' you seem to 'predate it, 'thout it's Don there, for here I'm a-carryin r -out yer plates half full every time." " That's because we have been so bounti fully helped," said Mildred. " Father has heaped my plate with enough for two or three meals. So you mustn't feel hurt, Celestia Ann, for 1 assure you I find your cookery delicious." " So do I," said Annis. " I haven't tasted as good since we left the Oaks." A chorus of complimentary remarks fol lowed from the rest of the company, and Celestia Ann's wounded vanity was appeased. " Fan," Dr. Landreth remarked, looking across the table at her, " I think you are the worst delinquent of all of us ; you have eaten scarcely anything, and I suspect it is no new thing, for you have grown thin since I saw you last." " Father says it's because I'm growing so fast,'" Fan said, blushing with embarrass ment, as she felt that all eyes were turned upon her. "It's spring-time, too, and that is apt to make one lose appetite and strength." 62 MILDRED AT HOME. " I dare say you need change," remarked Annis wisely. " You see how well and strong 1 am ; don't you wish now you'd gone South with us ?" "No; I wouldn't have missed the nice time I've had with mother for anything," re turned Fan, her eyes seeking her mother's face with a look of fond affection. Mrs. Keith's answering smile was very sweet. "Yes," she said, "Fan and I have had a very pleasant, happy time together. And now, with all our dear ones restored," glanc ing fondly from Annis to Mildred and Aunt Wealthy, " we shall be happier than ever." "Home's a good place," remarked Don, pushing away his plate, and settling himself back in his chair with the air of one whose appetite is fully satisfied, ' ' but I, for one, would like to see something of the world." " Time enough yet, my boy," remarked Dr. Landreth laughingly ; " you may well feel thankful that you are not forced out into it now, before you are fully prepared for the battle of life." Don looked slightly vexed and impatient. " Yes,' ' he said, " that's the way you all talk ; it's wait, wait, wait, instead of ' strike while the iron's hot.' " MILDRED AT HOME. 63 " What iron ?" inquired Mildred, with a look half of interest, half of amusement. " I want to go to California and dig gold," blurted out the boy ; " but father and mother won't hear of it, though there's a large party starting from here next week." " Oh, Don, what an idea !" exclaimed Mildred. " I'm glad you can't win con sent." " I too," said the doctor. " Don, if you knew what the life is you would not want to try it. 1 have had experience of it, you re member. " " Who are going from here ?" asked Mil dred. Quite a list of names was given in reply, including those of several of her familiar ac quaintance. "How will they go?" she asked, a look of grave concern coming over her face. "Across the plains," answered Rupert, " in wagons drawn by ox-teams. It can't fail to be a slow and toilsome journey. ' ' "And a dangerous one as well," added his mother, with a deprecating look at Don. "Yes, I know," said the lad, " but I'm fairly spoiling for a taste of that, mother," he added, with a laugh. 64 MILDRED AT HOME. She shook her head. " Ah, my boy, I wish you knew when you were well off." They left the table, and nocked into the parlor ; but Mrs. Keith drew Dr. Landreth aside, and whispered in his sympathizing ear her anxiety in regard to Fan. She described every symptom without reserve, then asked, with a look of deep solicitude, " "What do you think of the case ?" " You must allow me a little time to study it, mother," he said; " but I trust it will prove nothing serious. She must have rest, a tonic, a daily walk of such length as she can take without undue fatigue, and frequent drives. Those I can give her as I visit my country patients.' ' " Thank you," she said. " I have been very impatient for your return on the dear child's account." " What is that you are talking of, mother ?" Mildred asked, joining them. " Of Fan, Milly ; she hasn't seemed well for some time, and I have been consulting the doctor about her. ' ' Mildred's eyes filled. " My darling little sister !" she exclaimed. " I hope it is noth ing serious ?" She turned an eager, inquiring look upon her husband. MILDRED AT HOME. 6i " We will hope not, Milly," he said cheerfully. " As your father says, she is growing fast, and, besides, tl\is warm spring weather is apt to cause a feeling of languor. I trust that with tender care and watchfulness we may be able to help her to grow into strong, healthful womanhood." Both mother and sister looked relieved, and presently they rejoined the others. Frank Osborne was just taking leave. He must return to the duties of his charge, and might not see them again for several days. Ada left the room with her betrothed foi a few last words. When she entered the parlor again Aunt Wealthy, making room for her on the sofa by her side, asked, " Are you to be settled near Pleasant Plains, dear 2" adding, " I hope so, for it would be very hard for you to go far from father and mother, brothers and sisters, and for them to have you do so." Ada could not answer for a moment, and when she found her voice it was tremulous with emotion. " We do not know yet, Aunt Wealthy," she said. " It will be hard to leave home and dear ones, but we are ready and willing to go wherever the Lord may send us." 66 MILDRED AT HOME. " Ada, what do you mean ?" asked Mil dred. " Surely, Frank has no thought of seeking a foreign field ?" " Can't you give me up if the Master calls me away, Milly ?" asked Ada, taking her sister's hand and pressing it fondly in hers. " In that case I would not dare hold you back if I could ; His claim is far stronger than mine," Mildred said, with emotion. Then the whole story came out, and the matter was discussed in a family council. But they could go no farther than the ex pression of their opinions and wishes. Frank had already offered himself to the Board of Foreign Missions, and his going depended upon their acceptance or rejection. " I hope they'll say, * No, we think you