| “‘Hi diddle diddle! The cat and the fiddle!’” |
sang Wynnette, dancing away from the dreary window and dancing out of the room.
As for little Elva, she went moping about the house, with red eyes, sniveling in the most undisguised manner.
Miss Meeke was gravely busy with her wedding preparations.
Mrs. Anglesea was the jolliest person in the house, sympathetically interested in everybody’s feelings and occupations.
Occasionally, when there was a solemn pause in the conversation around the fire or around the board, the happy creature would take the whole company to task for their gloom.
“Call this a parting, do you? Why, the young fellow hasn’t gone out of reach of civilization—newspapers and mail bags and telegraph wires. Wait until he goes on a wild-goose chase after the North Pole, where you can’t hear from him for months or years, even if you ever hear from him again, for his chances are to leave his bones on the icebergs, if they are not crunched up by the white bears. My father and my brother were whalers, and used to be gone for years, when we—mother and I—did not hear from them, and had to trust in Providence. And that was bad enough. But when they both went off on an Arctic cruise—craze, I called it—’long of Capt. Kane, I tell you that was a time of trial. But this young Le! Phew! Why, he’s only just over there.”
The near approach of Natalie Meeke’s wedding, however, was the best diversion of all.
The whole family, from Mr. Force down to little Elva, were deeply interested in it. They all made her useful presents. Mr. Force gave her a set of silver spoons and forks; Mrs. Force, a china tea set; Odalite, her own wedding dress, with all its accessories of wreath, veil and fan, etcetera; Wynnette, a handsomely bound Bible; and Elva, a prayer book and hymn book.
Mrs. Anglesea bestowed a heavy, gold cardcase.