The same invitation had been already sent to, and accepted by, the others, and some time before the tea hour they were all there, glad to meet and exchange greetings, and chat about all that had occurred since they last saw each other. And Dr. Percival, refreshed and strengthened by his dinner and a long, sound sleep after it, was able to enjoy it all, perhaps as keenly as anyone else. They talked of whatever had occurred among them during the time that they had been separated, and of their plans for the coming heated term—who would pass it at home and who go North to find a cooler climate. But it was not necessary to decide fully upon their plans, as some weeks must elapse ere carrying them out and there would be a good deal of intercourse among them in the meantime.
They scattered to their homes early in the evening that Dr. Percival might not be kept up or awake, and that the little ones might be safely and in good season bestowed in their nests for the night.
Dr. Percival improved rapidly in the next few weeks; so rapidly that he was able to make a visit to Roselands, the Oaks, and Woodburn, each in turn, and felt that he should greatly enjoy the journey to the North and the sojourn by the seaside there which awaited him, his wife, and friends.
Our two pairs of lovers went quietly and happily on with their courting, considered plans for future house-building and housekeeping, and what should be done and enjoyed in the meantime, and it seemed but a little while till they were again on board the Dolphin and speeding on their northward course.
It was the same party that had come in her on that last voyage from the South. Max was still in the enjoyment of his furlough and by his father's request now took command of the vessel; but, the weather being fine throughout the voyage, his duties were not arduous and Evelyn had no reason to complain of want of attention from her fiancé. Nor had Lucilla; Chester being seldom absent from her side during the day or evening. So that Captain Raymond began to feel at times that he was already losing—to some extent—his eldest daughter. He sighed over it to himself, but made no complaint to either of them.
Lucilla's affection for him did not seem to have suffered any abatement; as had been her custom, she often came to him for a bit of private chat early in the morning or in the evening after the others had gone to their staterooms; and in these private interviews she was the same ardently affectionate daughter she had been for years; so that he felt he had no reason to fear that her lover had stolen all her heart.
But she was very keen-sighted as regarded him and his feelings toward her. One evening as, according to his custom, he paced the deck after all the passengers had retired for the night, he heard her light step at his side and then her voice asking in its sweetest tones, "Papa dear, mayn't I walk with you for at least a few minutes? I am neither sleepy nor tired, and it is so seldom now that I can have my own dear father all to myself."
"Yes, daughter dear," he said, putting an arm about her and caressing her with tenderness. "I am very glad to have your company if it is not going to weary you or rob you of needed sleep." Then he drew her hand within his arm and they paced slowly back and forth, conversing in subdued tones.
"It is so sweet to be alone with you once in a while, my own dear father," she said. "I think, papa, if my engagement has made any change in my feelings toward you it has been to make you seem to me nearer and dearer, if possible, than ever. Oh, I think it would break my heart if I should ever have to go so far away from you that I could not see and talk with you every day!"
"Dear child, those are sweet words to my ear," he said in moved tones, "and I am most thankful that, so far as we can see into the future, there seems little or no danger that we will ever be so separated in this world."