"Yes, mother, but it was that her grief was swallowed up in the realizing sense of the bliss of her dear departed child. Oh they all talk of her to this day with glad tears in their eyes,--sorrowing for themselves but rejoicing for her."
Elsie did give a cordial invitation to her aunt and the two girls to spend the summer with her and it was accepted at first, but declined afterward when a letter came from Mrs. Delaford, inviting them to join her in some weeks" sojourn, at her expense, first at Cape May and afterward at Saratoga.
It would be the gay life of dressing, dancing and flirting at great hotels, for which Virginia hungered, and was s.n.a.t.c.hed at with great avidity by herself and her mother.
Isadore would have preferred to be with the Travillas, but Mrs. Conly would not hear of it.
"Aunt Delaford would be mortally offended. And then the idea of throwing away such a chance! Was Isa crazy? It would be well enough to accept Elsie"s offer to pay their traveling expenses and provide each with a handsome outfit; but her cottage would be no place to spend the summer in, when they could do so much better; they would meet few gentlemen there; Elsie and Mr. Travilla were so absurdly particular as to whom they admitted to an acquaintance with their daughters; if there was the slightest suspicion against a man"s moral character, he might as well wish for the moon as for the entree to their house; or so much as a bowing acquaintance with Elsie or Vi. It was really too absurd."
"But, mamma," expostulated Isadore, "surely you would not be willing that we should a.s.sociate with any one who was not of irreproachable character?"
Mrs. Conly colored and looked annoyed.
"There is no use in being too particular, Isadore," she said, "one can"t expect perfection; young men are very apt to be a little wild, and they often settle down afterward into very good husbands."
"Really, I don"t think any the worse of a young fellow for sowing a few wild oats," remarked Virginia, with a toss of her head: "they"re a great deal more interesting than your _good_ young men."
"Such as Cal and Art," suggested Isa, smiling slightly. "Mamma, don"t you wish they"d be a little wild?"
"Nonsense, Isadore! your brothers are just what I would have them! I don"t _prefer_ wild young men, but I hope I have sense enough not to expect everybody"s sons to be as good as mine, and charity enough to overlook the imperfections of those who are not."
"Well, mamma," said Isadore with great seriousness, "I have talked this matter over with Cousin Elsie, and I think she takes the right view of it; that the rule should be as strict for men as for women; that the sin which makes a woman an outcast from decent society, should receive the same condemnation when committed by a man; that a woman should require as absolute moral purity in the man she marries, as men do in the women they choose for wives; and so long as we are content with anything less, so long as we smile on men whom we know to be immoral, we are in a measure responsible for their vices."
"I endorse that sentiment," said Arthur, coming in from an adjoining room; "it would be a great restraint upon men"s vicious inclinations, if they knew that indulgence in vice would shut them out of ladies" society."
"A truce to the subject. I"m tired of it," said Virginia. "Is it decided, mamma, that we take pa.s.sage in the steamer with the Travillas?"
"Yes; and now let us turn our attention to the much more agreeable topic of dress; there are a good many questions to settle in regard to it;--what we must have, what can be got here, and what after we reach Philadelphia."
"And how one dollar can be made to do the work of two," added Virginia; "for there are loads and loads of things I must have in order to make a respectable appearance at the watering-places."
"And we have just two weeks in which to make our arrangements," added her mother.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SECOND.
"Such sheets of fire, such bursts of horrid thunder, Such groans of roaring wind and rain, I never Remember to have heard."
--SHAKESPEARE.
Early in the morning of a perfect June day, our numerous party arrived at the wharf where lay the steamer that was to carry them to Philadelphia.
The embarkation was made without accident. Molly had had a nervous dread of her share in it, but under her uncle"s careful supervision, was conveyed safely on board.
The weather was very warm, the sea perfectly calm, but as they steamed out of the harbor a pleasant breeze sprang up, and the voyage began most prosperously.
There were a hundred lady pa.s.sengers, and not more than a dozen gentlemen; but to Virginia"s delight, one of these last was a gay dashing young army officer, with whom she had a slight acquaintance.
He caught sight of her directly, hastened to greet her, and they were soon promenading the deck together, engaged in an evident flirtation.
Mr. Dinsmore, seated at some little distance with his daughter and her children about him, watched his niece"s proceedings with a deepening frown. He was not pleased with either her conduct or her companion.
At length, rising and approaching his sister, "Do you know that young man, Louise?" he asked.
"Not intimately," she returned, bridling. "He is Captain Brice of the army."
"Do you know his character?"
"I have heard that he belongs to a good family, and I can see that he is a gentleman. I hope you are satisfied."
"No, I am not, Louise. He is a wild, reckless fellow, fond of drink, gambles----"
"And what of it?" she interrupted. "I don"t suppose he"s going to teach Virginia to do either."
"He is no fit a.s.sociate for her or for any lady. Will you interpose your authority----"
"No, I won"t; I"m not going to insult a gentleman, and I"m satisfied that Virginia has sense enough to take care of herself."
"Waving the question whether a man of his character is a gentleman, let me remark that it is not necessary to insult him in order to put a stop to this. You can call your daughter to your side, keep her with you, take an early opportunity to inform her of the man"s reputation, and bid her discourage his attentions. If you do not interfere," he added in his determined way, "I shall take the matter into my own hands."
"Isadore," said Mrs. Conly, "go and tell your sister I wish to speak to her."
Virginia was extremely vexed at the summons, but obeyed it promptly.
"What can mamma want? I was having such a splendid time," she said pettishly to her sister, when they were out of the captain"s hearing.
"It is more Uncle Horace than mamma."
Virginia reddened. She knew her uncle"s opinions, and she was not entirely ignorant of the reputation borne by Captain Brice.
She feigned ignorance however, listened with apparent surprise to her uncle"s account of him and promised sweetly to treat him with the most distant politeness in future.
Mr. Dinsmore saw through her, but what more could he do, except keep a strict watch over both.
The captain, forsaken by Virginia, sauntered about the deck and presently approaching an elderly lady who sat somewhat apart from the rest, lifted his cap with a smiling "How do you do, Mrs. Noyes?" and taking an empty chair by her side entered into a desultory conversation.
"By the by," he said, "what an attractive family group is that over yonder," with a slight motion of the head in the direction of the Travillas. "The mother is my beau-ideal of a lovely matron, in appearance at least--I have not the happiness of her acquaintance--and the daughters are models of beauty and grace. They are from your neighborhood, I believe?"
"Yes; I have a calling acquaintance with Mrs. Travilla. She was a great heiress; has peculiar notions, rather puritanical; but is extremely agreeable for all that."
"Could you give me an introduction?"
She shook her head. "I must beg you to excuse me."
"But why?"