"Yes, mamma, but you are beautiful," insisted Harold; "it isn't only my love that makes you look so to me, though I do love you dearly—dearly."
"Mamma knows we all do," said Violet; "we should be monsters of ingratitude if we did not."
"As I should be if I were not filled with thankfulness to God that he has blessed me with such dutiful and affectionate children," added the mother.
"Mamma, how soon will we go to Viamede?" asked Violet; and that question being answered, another quickly followed. "We will not leave Molly behind?"
"No, certainly not; nor Aunt Enna, if they will kindly consent to go with us."
"Consent, mamma! I'm sure they cannot help being delighted to go. May I run and tell them?"
"Yes, my child; I know you always enjoy being the bearer of pleasant news."
Molly heard it with great pleasure and gratitude to her cousin; Enna with even childish delight. Neither had a thought of declining.
Isadore Conly, also, was very much pleased, and sure she should vastly enjoy the winter with her relations, spite of many an envious prognostication to the contrary on the part of her mother and Virginia. They would not go on any account, they averred, and were glad they had been overlooked in the invitation—mean as it was in Elsie not to include them—for life at Viamede could not fail to be a very dull affair for that winter at least.
But Elsie, of course, heard none of these unkind remarks, and seeing the happiness she was conferring not only upon more distant relations but upon her children also, who showed increasing pleasure in the thought of the expected visit to their lovely southern home as the time drew near, she felt fully repaid for the sacrifice of feeling she was making.