“Why, you see, uncle, I think this is the way of it. You and the Colonel inspire me. Such appreciating hearers as yourself and your friend must necessarily inspire even the very poorest performer to do her very best.”
“Tut, tut, tut, my child; you know better! But, there, I will say no more on that subject! Good night, my darling,” he said.
And so closed the first dreaded day of Anna’s absence. And all the succeeding days were quite as pleasant.
Drusilla would not let her old friend be lonesome. She planned visits for him and herself to his favorite houses; and she invited his favorite friends to dinner or to tea. She often accompanied the old man on his morning rides, her gentle white mare ambling by the side of his steady old horse. She often invited him to take a seat in the open carriage when she went out in the afternoon to give her little boy an airing.
And she played and sang indefatigably to please Colonel Seymour, so that he might come over every evening, “rain or shine,” to keep her uncle company.
Anna’s and Dick’s letters came two or three in a week. They were not very long, for they were written en route; but they were interesting and affectionate. They were filled with graphic sketches of their journey, and with warm expressions of tenderness for the “dear ones at home,” and messages of kind regard to good friends around. The bride and groom were moving rapidly from point to point along the Canadian frontier, so that in answering them the General and his niece had to direct their letters a few stages in advance of the travelers. As, for instance, the answer of a letter post-marked Lewisburg, would be directed to Montreal.
Thus, through one happy divertisement or another, but chiefly through Drusilla’s affectionate solicitude the “days of absence” slipped imperceptibly away; they had now brought the close of the last week of the honeymoon. The travelers were expected home on Saturday evening, and the house was in perfect order and beauty to receive the wedded pair.
CHAPTER XI.
A JOYOUS MEETING IN JUNE.
June with its roses, June
The gladdest month in the capricious year,