Elsie in the South

"Yes, I feel deeply for her as well as for him. We will pray for them both, asking that if it be consistent with the will of God, he may be speedily restored to perfect health and strength."

"Yes, papa; what a comfort it is that we may cast upon the Lord all our care for ourselves and others!"

"It is indeed! I have found it so in many a sore trial sent to myself or to some one dear to me. I am glad for Maud that she has her brothers with her now."

"I too, papa, and I suppose Chester will stay with her to-day."

"Most likely; and my daughter must not feel hurt should he not show himself here at his usual early hour, or even at all to-day."

"I'll try not, papa. I am sure it would be very selfish in me to grudge poor dear Maud any show of sympathy or any comfort she might receive from him – her own dear eldest brother."

"Yes, so I think," said her father, "and I should not expect it of any one of my daughters."

Chester came at length, some hours later than his wont, and looking grave and troubled. In answer to inquiries, "Yes, poor Dick is certainly badly hurt," he said, "and Maud well-nigh distracted with grief and anxiety. She is a most devoted wife and considers him her all."

"But the case is not thought to be hopeless?" Mr. Dinsmore said inquiringly.

"No, not exactly that, but the doctors are not yet able to decide just what the internal injury may be."

"And while there is life there is hope," said Grandma Elsie in determinately cheerful tones. "It is certainly in his favor that he is a strong, healthy man, in the prime of life."

"And still more that he is a Christian man; therefore ready for any event," added her father.

"And so loved and useful a man that we may well unite in prayer for his recovery, if consistent with the will of God," said Captain Raymond.

"And so we will," said Cousin Ronald. "I feel assured that no one of us will refuse or neglect the performance of that duty."

"And we can plead the promise, 'If two of you shall agree on earth as touching anything that they shall ask, it shall be done for them of my Father which is in heaven,'" said Mrs. Dinsmore. "So I have strong hope that dear Dick will be spared to us. He is certainly a much loved and very useful man."

"And Maud must be relieved as far as possible from other cares," remarked Mrs. Travilla. "I shall at once invite my brother and his family here. There is room enough, especially as my two sons are there and will be nearly, if not all, the time while Dick is so ill."

"No, cousin," said Chester, "thank you very much, but Cousin Sue is making herself very useful and could not well be spared. She has undertaken the housekeeping, leaving Maud to devote herself entirely to Dick."

"Oh, that is good and kind in her," was the quick response from several voices.

"And very fortunate it is that she happened to be there, ready for the undertaking," said Mrs. Rose Croly; "and if Dick had to have that accident he couldn't have found a better time for it than now, while there are three good doctors at hand to attend to him."

"True enough," assented Chester. "Things are never so bad but they might be worse."

Days of anxiety and suspense followed, during which Dr. Percival's life seemed trembling in the balance. Drs. Harold and Herbert scarcely left the house and spent much of their time in the sick room, while Dr. Conly made several visits every day, sometimes remaining for hours, and the rest of the relatives and near friends came and went with kind offers and inquiries, doing all in their power to show sympathy, and give help, while carefully avoiding unwelcome intrusion or disturbance of the quiet that brooded over Torriswood and seemed so essential under the circumstances. Nothing was neglected that could be done for the restoration of the loved sufferer, and no one of the many relatives and connections there felt willing to leave the neighborhood while his life hung in the balance.

Chester spent a part of each day with his distressed and anxious sister, and a part with his betrothed, from whom he felt very unwilling to absent himself for even one whole day.

The young people and some of the older ones made little excursions, as before, on the bayou and about the woods and fields, Captain Raymond and Violet usually forming a part of the company; especially if his daughter Grace and Frank Dinsmore were in it.

At other times they gathered upon the veranda or in the parlors and entertained each other with conversation, music, or games of the quiet and innocent kind.

In the meantime many earnest prayers were sent up on behalf of the injured one – the beloved physician – in the closet, in the family worship, and in the sanctuary when they assembled there on the Sabbath day; and many a silent petition as one and another thought of him on his bed of suffering. They prayed in faith, believing that if it were best in the sight of Him who is all-wise and all-powerful and with whom there is no variableness or shadow of turning, their petition would be granted.

And at length so it proved; the fever left him, consciousness and reason were restored, and presently the rejoicing physicians were able to declare the danger past, the recovery certain should nothing occur to cause a relapse.

Then there was great rejoicing among those who were of his kith and kin, and those to whom he was the beloved physician. Then such as were needed at their places of residence presently bade farewell and departed for their homes; Drs. Conly and Herbert Travilla among them, leaving Dr. Harold in sole charge of the invalid.

Those who had come on the Dolphin decided to return on it, though they would linger somewhat longer – no one feeling it a trial to have to delay for days or weeks where they were.

Frank Dinsmore was one of the earliest to leave, and Chester, finding that more Southern climate beneficial to him at that season of the year, was entirely willing to entrust the business of the firm to his brother for a time.

So, relieved of anxiety in regard to Dick and still numerous enough to make a very pleasant party, the time passed swiftly and most agreeably to them – especially to the two affianced pairs and the children; Cousin Ronald and Max now and then entertaining them by the exertion of their ventriloquial powers. The young people from Magnolia Hall were often with them and their presence added zest to the enjoyment of little Elsie and Ned in the fun made by their indulgent ventriloquists. That particular sport was apt to begin unexpectedly to the children, making it a little more difficult to recognize it as the doings of the ventriloquists.

One afternoon, after playing romping games upon the lawn until weary enough to enjoy a quiet rest on the veranda where the older people were, they had hardly seated themselves when they heard a sound of approaching footsteps, then a voice that seemed like that of a little girl, asking, "Dear little ladies and gentlemen, may I sit here with you for a while? I'm lonesome and would be glad of good company, such as I am sure yours must be."

Some of the children, hearing the voice but not able to see the speaker, seemed struck dumb with surprise.

It was Violet who answered, "Oh, yes, little girl. Take this empty chair by me and tell me who you are."

"Oh, madam, I really can't tell you my name," answered the voice, now seeming to come from the empty chair by Violet's side. "It seems an odd thing to happen, but there are folks who do sometimes forget their own name."

"And that is the case with you now, is it?" laughed Violet. "Your voice sounds like that of a girl, but I very much doubt if you belong to our sex."

"Isn't that rather insulting, madam?" asked the voice in an offended tone.

"Oh, I know you're not a girl or a woman either!" cried Ned Raymond gleefully, clapping his hands and laughing with delight. "You're a man, just pretending to be a little girl."

"That is insulting, you rude little chap, and I shall just go away," returned the voice in indignant tones, followed immediately by the sound of footsteps starting from the chair beside Violet and gradually dying away in the distance.

"Why, she went off in a hurry and I couldn't see her at all!" exclaimed one of the young visitors; then, as everybody laughed, "Oh, of course it was Cousin Ronald or Cousin Max!"

"Why, the voice sounded to me like that of a little girl," said Violet, "and Cousin Ronald and Max are men."

"Of course they are, and could not talk in the sweet tones of my little girl," said a rough masculine voice that seemed to come from the doorway into the hall.

Involuntarily nearly everybody turned to look for the speaker, but he was not to be seen.

"And who are you and your girl?" asked another voice, seeming to speak from the farther end of the veranda.

"People of consequence, whom you should treat with courtesy," answered the other, who seemed to stand in the doorway.

"As we will if you will come forward and show yourselves," laughed Lucilla, putting up her hand as she spoke to drive away a bee that seemed to buzz about her ears.

"Never mind, Lu; its sting won't damage you seriously," said Max, giving her a look of amusement.

"Oh, hark! here come the soldiers again!" exclaimed Elsie Embury, as the notes of a bugle, quickly followed by those of the drum and fife, seemed to come from a distant point on the farther side of the bayou.

"Don't be alarmed, miss; American soldiers don't harm ladies," said the voice from the farther end of the veranda.

"No, I am not at all alarmed," she returned with a look of amusement directed first at Cousin Ronald, then at Max; "not in the least afraid of them."

The music continued for a few minutes, all listening silently to it, then as the last strain died away a voice spoke in tones apparently trembling with affright, "Oh, please somebody hide me! hide me quick! quick! before those troops get here. I'm falsely accused and who knows but they may shoot me down on sight?"