Mildred at Home: With Something About Her Relatives and Friends.

"But we wouldn't mind working very hard indeed for a little while to make a fortune, father," he answered in a lively tone, 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 hardships to be encountered in the search for gold – the exhausting toil, scanty fare, and exposure 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 encountered 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."

"But oh, Don," exclaimed Fan, "just think what mother, and I, and all of us would be suffering from anxiety on your account!"

"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 needlessly 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 returned, 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."

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, especially in one usually so calm and undemonstrative as Ada.

"Dear child," she said, caressing her, "we will hope never to be too far apart for frequent 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?" 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 interest 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 of the vineyard where the Master would have us."

"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, I 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.

Chapter Fifth

"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 Seasons.

The sweetest of May mornings; the sun shines brightly in a sky of heavenly blue, 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 redolent 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 seems 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 party, if less demonstrative, are scarcely less 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 punctually 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 impatient Annis.

"Yes," Dr. Landreth said, "we all belong 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 followed! the happy laughter, the looks of love, the tears of joy! for to the younger ones the separation had seemed very long, as, indeed, 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 this 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 done my best to foller '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 'preciate it, 'thout it's Don there, for here I'm a-carryin' out yer plates half full every time."

"That's because we have been so bountifully helped," said Mildred. "Father has heaped my plate with enough for two or three meals. So you mustn't feel hurt, Celestia Ann, for I 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 followed 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 embarrassment, 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."

"I dare say you need change," remarked Annis wisely. "You see how well and strong I 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," returned 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," glancing 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."