Elsie's Widowhood

"Ah no, we won't leave you here all alone," said several voices.

"No," said Mary, "for I am going to stay with her. I am weary enough just now to prefer resting in this easy chair to a ramble on the beach or anywhere else; and beside, I want a chat with Amy."

"Secrets to tell, eh?" said Charlie, picking up his hat. "Good-bye, then. Don't forget to speak well of the absent."

"Oh I am so glad to be alone with you for a little while, Mary," Amy said, when the others had all gone. "I want to thank you for your kindness in asking me to come here; such a blessed relief as it was! for it seemed to me the very monotony of my life was killing me."

"The thanks hardly belong to me," Mary said, between a smile and a tear, as she leaned over Amy, gently smoothing back the hair from her forehead. "I think they should be given first to our heavenly Father, and second to Mr. Marston."

"Yes, and third to you, Mary. I used to wonder over that text in Isaiah – 'He that believeth shall not make haste.' I didn't know what it meant, but I believe I do now."

"Well, dear, what is your explanation?"

"I think it means he that is strong in faith will patiently and calmly wait God's time for the fulfilment of his promises, and for relief from trouble and trial. Oh if I could but do it always!"

"And I," sighed Mary; "but oh how often I am guilty of making haste for myself or for others – my dear ones especially. There is poor mother so often sick, and it is so hard to see her suffer, when she is so good, too, so patient and cheerful and resigned."

"Yes, I know that must be far harder than suffering yourself."

"Amy," Mary said after a pause, "you must not forget that it is a very great pleasure to me to have you here, and that if you and the others had refused to come and stay with me I could not have accepted Mr. Marston's offer."

"It is very generous in you to set it in that light," Amy answered, with a grateful look and smile.

They found so much to talk about that time flew very fast, and they were greatly surprised on seeing Ella and Violet coming up the path from the gate to the house.

"Surely it is not six yet!" Mary exclaimed.

"No, only half-past five," Vi said, taking out her watch; "but you are tired, and Ella and I want you to let us get the tea."

"Good girls!" returned Mary gayly. "I feel quite rested now, but you may help if you like. I'm not going to cook much, though – only to make tea and stew a few oysters."

Tea and the clearing up after it well over, they all gathered on the porch, where they had the full benefit of the breeze and could get a glimpse of the sea by the light of the stars, and listen to its ceaseless murmur, while amusing themselves with cheerful chat and in making arrangements for various pleasure excursions about the vicinity.

It was unanimously decided to reserve the long walks until Amy should grow stronger, in order that she might share the enjoyment.

In the meanwhile they would fill up the time with bathing, lounging, short strolls, driving, and boating.

They finished the evening with the singing of hymns, a chapter of the Bible read aloud by Donald, and a short, earnest prayer, well suited to their needs, offered by him.

The next day their plans were interfered with by a constant, steady rainfall, but no one fretted or looked dull. Most of them took their bath in spite of it, and there were books and games with which to while away the time within doors.

The second day was bright and clear. Amy felt herself already so greatly improved that she was eager for a proposed boating excursion on Shark River. Breakfast was prepared, eaten, and cleared away in good season. Mary was an excellent manager, working rapidly and well herself and skilfully directing the labors of others.

They took the stage down to the river, hired a boat large enough to carry the whole party, spent a couple of hours in rowing back and forth, up and down, then returned home as they had come, reaching there in season for their bath and the preparation of a good though not very elaborate dinner, Mary pressing Ella and the lads into her service, while Amy and Violet were ordered to lie down and rest after their bath.

"What's the programme for this afternoon?" asked Charlie, finishing his dessert and pushing his plate aside.

"Dish-washing, a long lounge on beds and couches, then tea and a second chapter of cleansing of utensils, followed by an evening stroll on the beach," answered Mary.

"And what for to-morrow?" queried Donald.

"Ah, that reminds me," said Edward, "that Mrs. Perkins told me she expects her husband by the evening train, and wants us to join them to-morrow in getting up a fishing party. The plan is to drive over to Manasquan, hire a boat there and go out on the ocean. What do you all say about it?"

The young men were highly in favor of the trip; Amy would see how she felt in the morning; Violet demurred, lest there might be danger in going upon the ocean, and "because she could not see any pleasure in catching fish; it seemed so cruel."

"But you eat them," reasoned her brother.

"Yes, I know, and I suppose it is very inconsistent to object to catching them, but I do. I could not enjoy seeing them suffer."

"You can go with us without feeling obliged to share in that, can you not?" asked Donald.

"Needn't even go out in the boat unless you choose," put in Charlie. "We'll find a shady spot under the trees near the shore where you can sit and watch us."

Violet thought that plan would do very well; she could take a book along, and the time would not seem tedious.

"But Mary has not spoken," said Donald, turning to her.

"I see no objection to your going, any or all of you," she answered brightly, "but I must be excused."

"But why?" they all asked in various tones of disappointment and inquiry.

"Because to-morrow is Saturday, and the cook and housekeeper must make ready for the Sabbath rest by doing two days' work in one."

"Can't we manage that somehow?" asked Donald.

Mary shook her head. "No; but I shan't mind it at all. Go and enjoy yourselves, my children, and leave me to attend to my duties at home."

"The rest can go if they choose, but if you stay at home, cousin, I shall stay with you," announced Violet with decision.

They rose from the table.

"Mary," said Charlie, "let the dishes stand a bit. I'm going to the post-office," and seizing his hat he disappeared, followed by the laughter of the others.

"Quick, now, lads and lasses, let's have them all out of the way before he gets back," said Ella, beginning to clear the table in hot haste.

The heat of the sun was too great to allow of very fast walking, and Charlie was gone a full half hour; when he returned he found them all sitting at their ease in the parlor.

"I think we'll leave those dishes till the cool of the evening, Mary," he said, wiping the perspiration from his forehead.

"No, I can't consent to that – not on ordinary occasions," she answered demurely.

"Then back to the post-office goes this letter!" he cried threateningly, holding aloft one with her address upon it.

"Silly boy, the dishes are done without your help; give it to me!" she cried, springing up and catching it out of his hand.

"A fortunate day; nobody neglected by Uncle Sam's messengers," he said, pulling several more from his pocket and distributing them.

The tongues were silent for a moment; then Vi uttered a joyous exclamation. "O Mary, you needn't stay at home to-morrow! mamma says she will send a hamper by the evening train to-morrow, with provision to last us over Sunday, so that you need not be troubled with Saturday cooking."

Everybody was glad, everybody thankful.

"But to-morrow's dinner," said Mary, presently; "shall we get back in time for me to cook it?"

"I don't know," said Edward; "but there are hotels where we can dine, and I invite you all to be my guests at whichever one the party may select. Now, Cousin Mary," as he read hesitation in her face, "I shall be hurt if anybody refuses my invitation."

So no one ventured an objection.

The day proved auspicious. Amy was unusually well, everybody else in good health and spirits, no excuse for staying at home: so all went and spent the entire day, taking an early start and not returning till late in the afternoon.

CHAPTER XXIII

"Macbeth. If we should fail —"Lady M. We fail!But screw your courage to the sticking place,And we'll not fail."– Shakespeare.

Sunday morning came and our young friends met at the breakfast table, not in their usual jesting, mirthful mood, but with cheerful gravity of demeanor, suited to the sacredness of the day.

"There is no preaching, no sort of religious service within our reach to-day," Edward remarked.

"Then shall we not have one of our own?" asked Mary. "I have a book of sermons: one might be read aloud; then we can have three prayers and as many hymns as we please; we all sing."

"And we might have a Bible reading also," suggested Ella. "And suppose we take up the International Sunday-school Lesson and study it."

All these propositions were received with favor and eventually carried out.

They did not think it wrong to stroll quietly along the shore, or to sit there watching the play of the billows, and thus they ended their afternoon.

The evening was pleasantly spent in serious talk and the singing of hymns on the front porch, where they could feel the breeze and see the foam-crested waves by the light of a young moon.

They retired early, feeling that they had had an enjoyable, restful day, and rose betimes, full of life and vigor – except Amy; and even she felt equal to a longer stroll than she had yet taken.

The days flew by on swift wings, each bringing its duties and enjoyments with it, and so pleasant was the gay, free life they led that at times they half regretted that it must come to an end.

Yet there were other times when some, if not all of them, anticipated, with real satisfaction, the return to the more serious business of life.

There was a very frequent exchange of visits between their party and the one to which Edward and Violet more properly belonged; sometimes by way of the cars, at others by riding or driving; so that Violet was never many days without sight and speech of her mother and some of the other dear ones at home; and that reconciled her to a longer absence from it.

At length the younger Elsie was persuaded to come and spend a few days with Mary and her party, the mother consenting to spare both daughters for that length of time. The sweet girl's presence added much to the enjoyment of all, especially her sister, for their mutual attachment had always been very strong.

One day there was a large fishing party, composed principally of guests from other houses, which both Elsie and Violet declined to attend; but Vi, fired with a laudable ambition to emulate her cousin Mary's skill in the culinary art, volunteered to get dinner, and have it ready by the time the others returned.

Each one of them offered to stay and assist, but she would not hear of it; laughingly asserting that "she wanted all the honor and glory, and wouldn't have anybody with her but Elsie, who knew nothing about cooking, but would keep her from being 'lone and lorn,' and perhaps help a little in those things which were so easy that even the lads could do them," she concluded, with a merry glance from one to the other.

Edward was not there, some errand having taken him home by the morning train.

"Can you stand that insinuation, Donald?" asked Charlie. "I vote that you and I stay at home to-morrow and get dinner, just to prove our skill in that line."

"Agreed," said Donald; "but what's to be done with the lasses in the meantime? We can't let them go off pleasuring alone."

"Oh, Edward can take care of them all for once; he's to be back by dinner-time to-day, you know, so will be on hand here to-morrow."

"Thank you," said Ella, laughing, and with a mock courtesy, "but we are entirely capable of taking care of ourselves, as perhaps we may prove to you one of these days. But here's the carriage at the gate. Come, Amy, I'll help you in. Let us show these lords of creation that they are of not quite so great importance as they are pleased to imagine."

She ran gayly out, Amy following a little more slowly, with a regretful good-bye to the two who were to remain at home.

The lads hurried after, in season to forestall Ella in assisting Amy into the vehicle, which the former had hastily entered unaided, before they could reach it.

Mary lingered behind a moment to say to Elsie and Violet that she did not in the least care to go, indeed would prefer to stay with them.

"No, no, cousin Mary," they both said, "we would not have you miss the sport, or deprive the rest of the pleasure of your society."

"Besides," added Violet, with a merry look and smile, "if you were here I know very well I should miss the opportunity to distinguish myself as a capable and accomplished cook. So away with you, fair lady! See, the lads are waiting to hand you into the carriage."

"Good-bye then, but don't attempt an elaborate dinner," Mary returned, as she hastened away.

The sisters stood on the little porch watching the departure till the carriage was out of sight.

Just then a boy carrying a large basket opened the gate and came in.

"That's right, you are just in good time," was Vi's greeting. "Please carry them into the kitchen. Have you brought all I ordered?"

"Yes'm; potatoes, corn, beans, tomats, cabbage, lettuce, and young beets. All right fresh and nice."

Violet paid him and he left.

"There, I shall have a sufficient variety of vegetables," she remarked, viewing her purchase with satisfaction.

"O Vi," sighed Elsie, with a look of apprehension, "do you in the least know what you are about?"

"Why of course, you dear old goosie! haven't I watched Cousin Mary's cooking operations for over two weeks? Oh I assure you I'm going to have a fine dinner! There's a chicken all ready for the oven – cousin showed me how to make the stuffing and all that. I've engaged fresh fish and oysters – they'll be coming in directly. I shall make an oyster pie and broil the fish. I mean to make a boiled pudding and sauce for dessert, and have bought nuts, raisins and almonds, oranges, bananas and candies besides, and engaged ice cream and cake."

"Your bill of fare sounds very good, but what if you should fail in the cooking?"

"Oh, no such word as fail for me!" laughed Vi. "I've screwed my courage to the sticking place, and don't intend to fail. Now we must don our big aprons and to work; you'll help me with the vegetables, I know."

"Willingly, if you'll show me how."

Violet felt very wise and important as she gave her older sister the requested instruction, then went bustling about making her pudding and pastry: for she decided to add tarts to her bill of fare, and the oyster pie must have a very nice crust.

But as she proceeded with her preparations she discovered that her knowledge was deficient in regard to many of the details of the business in hand; she did not know exactly how much time to allow for the cooking of each dish – how long it would take the chicken to roast, pie and tarts to bake, pudding and vegetables to boil.

She grew anxious and nervous in her perplexity; there was no one to give her the needed information, the cookery books did not supply it, and in sheer desperation she filled her oven, her pots and kettles as fast as possible, saying to Elsie it would surely be better to have food a little overdone than not sufficiently cooked.

It proved an unfortunate decision, especially as the fishing party were an hour later in returning than had been expected.

Poor Violet was too much mortified to eat when she discovered that there was no sweetness left in the corn, that her potatoes were water-soaked, her oysters tough as leather, the chicken scorched and very much overdone, the fish burnt almost to a cinder, and – oh worst of all! cooked with the scales on. She had forgotten they had any.

Her friends all comforted her, however, taking the blame on themselves. "If they had not been so late, things would not have been so overdone; it was their fault. And the lettuce, the cold-slaw, and bread and butter were all very nice. The tarts too."

But as soon as she tasted them Violet knew she had forgotten the salt in her crust and that it was tough compared to her Cousin Mary's.

And then the pudding! oh why did it turn out so heavy? Ah, she had made it with sour milk and put in no soda.

"Oh what shall I do?" she said despairingly to Mary, who was helping her to dish it up. "There's hardly anything fit to eat, and I know you are all very hungry."

"Indeed, dear little coz, there is a great deal that's fit to eat," Mary said, glancing toward he table on which the last course was set out – except the ice cream, which had not yet been taken out of the freezer.

"Yes, those are nice, but the substantial of the meal – just what are most needed – are all spoiled. Oh what's that?" with a sudden change of tone as a man bearing a large hamper appeared at the open door; "something from mamma, I do believe."

"Yes," said Edward, stepping in after the man as the latter set the hamper down; "and as it's more than an hour past dinner time, I suppose its very well I didn't come empty handed."

"O Ned, Ned, you dear, good fellow!" cried Violet, springing to his side and throwing her arms around his neck.

"Yes, you may well say that!" he returned, laughing, as he gave her a kiss, then put her aside and stooped to open the basket, "for I told mother what you were attempting to-day, and she said 'The poor, dear child! she will surely fail, so I'll send some provisions with you when you go.' And here they are, all of the best, of course, for mamma never does anything by halves," he added, beginning to hand out the viands – a pair of cold roast fowls, a boiled tongue, pickles, jellies, pies and cakes in variety, – Mary and Vi receiving them with exclamations of satisfaction, delight and thankfulness which quickly brought the others upon the scene, just as the bearer of the hamper, who had gone out on setting it down, re-entered with a basket of of beautiful, luscious looking peaches and grapes.

"Hello!" exclaimed Charlie, in high glee, "what's all this? a second dinner?"

"Yes," returned Violet, "my dear, good mother's atonement for her conceited daughter's failure."

"No, no, we don't call it a failure, nor the cook conceited," cried a chorus of voices; "some things are very nice, and others were spoiled by our fault in coming home so late."

"Well, please come back to the table and we'll begin again," said Violet, carrying the fowls into the dining-room, Mary following with the tongue, Elsie and Ella with other edibles.

"Please, some of you, help me carry away dinner number one, to make room for dinner number two," said Vi, replacing the dish containing her unfortunate chicken with the one on which she had put the new arrivals.

Upon that everybody seized one or more of the dishes and hurried back to the kitchen; and so with a great rushing to and fro and amid much laughter and many merry jests they respread the board.

Violet's spirits and appetite had returned, and she joined the others in making a hearty meal.

The next morning was cloudy and cool for the season. All agreed it was just the day for a long stroll inland, and shortly after breakfast they set out in a body – Mary, Ella and Edward leading the van, Donald and Edward's two sisters coming next, Charlie and Amy bringing up the rear.

There seemed to be a tacit understanding that those two were always to be together and no remark was ever made about it, but Charlie always quietly took possession of the fragile little lady, just as if he had entered into bonds to be her care-taker and entertainer, accommodating his pace to hers, which was so much slower than that most natural to the others that they often unintentionally left her far behind.

They presently met Mrs. Perkins, Fred and Susie, who were also starting out for a walk, and the two parties joined their forces.

They passed through the village, and sat down for a little while on some rustic benches under the trees on the river bank, to rest and enjoy the pleasing prospect.

The village lay behind them; before, green slopes dotted here and there with trees standing singly or in groups; then the sparkling river, to the left, beyond the bridge, widening into a lake-like expanse, to the right pouring its waters into the great ocean, on whose broad bosom many ships, steamers and smaller craft could be seen, some near, others far away in the distance.

The surface of the river too was enlivened by a number of small sail-boats slowly moving before the wind, and skiffs that darted hither and thither. On the further bank the scene was diversified by woods and fields, with here and there a farm-house, then the sandy beach bordering the wide blue sea.

"Are you quite tired out, Amy?" Charlie asked after a little.

"Oh no, I'm quite rested," she answered gayly, "and feel able to walk a good deal farther. I am really surprised to find how strong and well I am."

"The sea-shore's the place for you evidently," he said; then as she sprang up nimbly to join the others as they rose and moved on again, "But I don't know that it would be best to keep you here too long; you might grow so strong as to feel capable of dispensing with any help from other folks."

"Which would be very delightful indeed," she returned with an arch look and smile as she accepted his offered arm.

They hastened on after the rest of their party, over a bridge and along the roadside for some distance, then they all struck into a narrow footpath on the farther side of the fence, the young men letting down the bars to give the ladies easy ingress, and followed that through a bit of woods, crossing a little stream by a broken bridge, where again the lads had the pleasure of giving assistance to their companions of the weaker sex; then across some cornfields; making a circuit that brought them back to the river.

The path now ran along its bank, and still pursuing it they came at length to a little inlet where was neither bridge nor boat.

There they stopped and held a consultation. No one wanted to go back by the way they had come, it was too long and roundabout; if they could but cross this inlet they could soon reach one of the life-saving stations on the other side, and there probably find some one who would carry them across the river in a boat, when a short walk along the beach would take them to their temporary homes.

"The water is not deep, I think," said Donald. "I propose that we lads strip off boots and stockings, wade through and carry the ladies over. I will wade across first and try its depth."

He did so, spite of some protests from the more timid of the ladies, and found it hardly knee-deep. All then agreed to his proposition.

"Edward and I will make a chair by clasping hands," he said gayly, "and Fred and Charlie can do likewise if they will, and we will divide the honor of carrying the ladies over dryshod."

Donald had a purpose in selecting Edward as his companion and helper in the undertaking; feeling pretty certain that Elsie and Violet would choose to be carried by their brother, which they did.

"I see through you, young man," Charlie said to Donald in a laughing aside while making ready for the trip, "but I don't care very much, if you leave Miss Fletcher for me."

"All right," returned Donald, "I intended to, for I see which way the wind blows. She's light too, my lad, and will be the better suited to your strength."

"Strength, man! I'm as able to lift and carry as Lieutenant Keith, if I'm not greatly mistaken," Charlie said with pretended wrath, "and to prove it I speak for the carrying of Mrs. Perkins and Miss Neff, who must be a trifle heavier than any of the other ladies."

"All right; but fortunately there isn't one in the party heavy enough to be any great burden to either of us."

So amid a good deal of mirth and laughter and some timidity and shrinking on the part of the younger girls, the short journey was made, and that without mishap or loss.

Then a short, though toilsome walk through the soft yielding sand brought them to the life-saving station, a small two-story frame building standing high on the sandy beach, the restless billows of old ocean tossing and tumbling not many rods away.