It was on a lovely June morning that our bridal party arrived in Lansdale. They were met at the depot by Aunt Wealthy’s nephew Mr. Harry Duncan, and driven directly to the pretty cottage which had been for so many years the home of the dear old lady. She met them on its porch with both hands outstretched in cordial greeting to the dearly loved grandnephews, and their wives of whom this was her first sight, gave them the tenderest of greetings, then led them within doors and gave them in charge to Mrs. Duncan and Mrs. Lottie Allison, who conducted them to their respective rooms and left them there to refresh themselves by the removal of the dust of travel and a change of raiment.

An excellent dinner, served in Aunt Wealthy’s dining room and partaken of by all the members of the three families, followed in due season, the dear old lady herself taking the head of the table and doing the honors as gracefully as though she had seen but half the years which had actually passed over her head.

Ethel felt strongly drawn to her and the attraction seemed mutual.

“I am greatly obliged to you, boys,” Aunt Wealthy said in her sweet, silvery tones, glancing from Ethel to Blanche and back again, “for furnishing me with two such sweet and lovable grand-nieces. I only wish I could keep you and them near me without robbing our dear ones in your native town. Now if you could persuade your parents and grandparents to leave Pleasant Plains for Lansdale and you to settle here also, it would be very delightful to your old auntie.”

“It would be very delightful for us to have her near at hand,” returned Percy with a smile, “but surely much easier to carry her there with us, than to bring all our numerous tribe here. What do you say to the idea of joining our party when we start for home again, Aunt Wealthy?”

“Ah, no, laddie! I’m too old a fixture to be moved,” returned the old lady, shaking her head. “I am only living from day to day with the feeling that home is all ready for me in that better land and that I may at any moment hear the glad summons to go to it and the dear Master who has prepared it for me.”

“And yet how very peaceful and happy you look, auntie,” remarked Blanche. “Do you not dread that summons at all?”

“Oh, no, child. Why should I or anyone dread a call to go home to the Father’s house on high? I can truly say I do not dread it half so much as I should the earthly journey from here to Pleasant Plains. That would cause me much weariness; the other none at all.”

“I think you are to be envied, Aunt Wealthy,” said Blanche. “I don’t think it is altogether because you are old and weary of life either, because our dear young sister Nannette seemed as glad to go to that dear home as anybody could be.”

“I hope you will tell us all about her while you are here,” remarked Mrs. Duncan, with a look of interest.

“Yes,” said Mrs. Allison, “and also about your wedding, for we have heard absolutely nothing so far.”

“Our mothers, and the rest at Pleasant Plains, have been too busy to write, I presume,” observed Stuart; “but you shall have all the particulars you care for from us before we leave.”

“Yes, you must please tell us all about it this evening when Dr. and Mrs. Prince will be in to hear it too.”

“Now, Aunt Wealthy, do you know that, as usual, you have lowered my father’s rank?” queried Mrs. Allison with an amused look and smile. “You will forget, you dear old soul, that he is a King—not merely a prince.”

“Ah, yes; it is a sad mistake and one that I make very often, and I fear I’m too young now to hope to reform in that respect.”

“Ah, well, auntie, do not be discouraged,” said Mr. Duncan; “you know you are getting older every day and may hope to arrive finally at years of discretion.”

“Ah, Harry, Harry, you are a sad fellow, considering that you belong to the family of such a fine young father; such an one should never think of making game of his old auntie in that fashion,” returned Miss Stanhope with affected gravity, but a twinkle of fun in her eye. Then turning to Percy, “Did Mr. Travilla and Elsie get to your wedding?” she asked.

“No, ma’am; none of the family except young Horace, who was one of our groomsmen. I own that I was disappointed, for I have a great desire to meet them all; especially Cousin Elsie. She has been here several times, has she not?”

“Yes, years ago when she was quite young—eighteen—and Mr. Travilla came after her, but was not her—yes, he was her lover, but she thought of him only as a kind of uncle. Then her father brought her again when she had found out that she cared for Mr. Torville, and engaged him to marry her. Ah, he’s as pleasant a gentleman as ever you saw!”

“You were at the wedding, were you not, Aunt Wealthy?” asked Stuart.

“Yes, indeed! They wouldn’t have missed me for a good deal, and from the sole of her head to the crown of her foot she was the loveliest bride that I ever saw.”

“So mother has often told me, and that she was as lovely in character as in person,” said Percy.

“An assertion which no one at all acquainted with her would hesitate to confirm,” said Mr. Allison. “I know her well as the daughter of my esteemed brother-in-law, Mr. Horace Dinsmore, and have known her since she was a little lass about nine years old.”

“How I should like to see her!” exclaimed Blanche.

“We have photographs at home,” said Stuart. “I think them lovely, but mother and the others who remember her say they do not do her justice.”

“We have some very good ones here,” said Aunt Wealthy, “and everyone who cares to look at them can do so.”

They were leaving the table as she spoke and Blanche, speaking aside to Stuart, urged him to ask his aunt to show them the old-fashioned treasures in her parlor of which she had heard him and Percy tell.

“Yes, dearest, I will,” he said with a mirthful look. “I own to a great desire to see them myself, having heard so much about them from mother, grandma, and Aunt Mildred.”

But there was no need to prefer the request, as it was to the parlor Miss Stanhope now led the way, and she was presently exhibiting with pardonable pride the old furniture that had been in the family since before her time, her grandmother’s sampler framed and hanging on the wall, the embroidered chair cushions which she said were filled with that grandmother’s own feathers, and were valued by herself more than their weight in gold, though much faded and somewhat worn in spite of the excellent care she had always taken of them—the old, old portraits on the walls, the cabinet of curiosities brought from over the seas by an ancestor who had been a sea captain.

All these were examined with interest, then Percy enquired for the photographs.

“Ah, they are here,” replied Miss Stanhope, taking up a photographic album and handing it to him. “Let us see if you can pick out your Cousin Elsie.”

“Easily,” he returned, “since I have often seen one in mother’s possession;” and as he opened the album his wife, Blanche, and Stuart drew around him to gaze with eager curiosity upon the lovely face which he pronounced an excellent likeness of Mrs. Travilla, judging from those he had seen and the description of her often given him by the members of the family who knew her.

Our little bridal party spent some days at Lansdale, then urgent messages from home hurried them away. They reached Pleasant Plains about the middle of the afternoon of another lovely June day.

As they alighted from the train they were greeted most rejoicingly by their fathers and mothers—Dr. and Mrs. Landreth and Mr. and Mrs. Ormsby—each couple being conducted to a waiting carriage, and presently, when the baggage had been attended to, they were whirled away to the house of the young men’s grandfather, Mr. Keith, where they found the other members of the connection waiting to greet and welcome them.

Then, after a few minutes’ chat, they were conducted to their own new homes, which had been thoroughly cleaned and furnished with the carpets, curtains, and other articles bought in Philadelphia for that purpose.

All four were filled with delight at the neat and tasteful appearance of each dwelling, and the many comforts and conveniences that had been provided through the thoughtful love and effort of parents and friends.

The grounds were prettily laid out, sodded and planted with trees, shrubs, and flowers, and presented an attractive appearance for places so new to cultivation, giving promise of great beauty in coming years; and from porches and balconies charming views might be obtained of the surrounding country and the beautiful swiftly flowing river.

Ethel and Blanche were evidently greatly pleased, and their young husbands scarcely less so.

When all these things had been viewed and rapturously commented upon, the young couples were left to themselves, with an injunction to come over to their grandfather’s again when ready for tea, as all the family were to be assembled there to rejoice together over their safe arrival, and that those to whom the brides were strangers, as yet, might have an opportunity to make their acquaintance.

It proved a delightful family party, but as the travellers were somewhat weary with their long journey, and the watchful mothers divined that they were longing for the privacy and rest to be found in their own little homes, they proposed at an early hour that the old father should lead them all in a short service of prayer and praise, then all disperse to their several abodes, hoping to meet again on the morrow, when rested and refreshed by sleep.

They separated with kind good-nights, and a few moments later Percy and his Ethel were standing together on their own porch gazing out upon the moonlit landscape.

“What a beautiful river it is!” she said in tones tremulous with emotion, “and, oh, what a dear, lovely home you have brought me to! I had hardly hoped ever to have one so sweet and fair, or to be so loved as I firmly believe my husband loves me.”

“You deserve it all, dearest,” he said with feeling; “yes, far more than I deserve the happiness of having so sweet a wife for my very own. And God grant we may live and love together here for many years, should it please Him to spare our lives.”

THE END.

THE MILDRED SERIES

A Companion Series of the “Elsie” Books

By MARTHA FINLEY

(Martha Farquharson)