“Some de quality,” answered Bill, adding that “Miss Angeline done ’vite ’em to see de bride.”
“She might at least have consulted my wishes,” said Richard, while my heart sank within me at being obliged to meet strangers in my jaded condition.
Mrs. Lansing, it seems, had in her mind a new piano for Lina, their present one being rather old-fashioned, and as the surest means of procuring one she thought to please her brother by noticing his bride. So, in her zeal, she rather overdid the matter, inviting to Sunny Bank many of the villagers, some of whom were friendly to me and some were not, though all, I believe, felt curious to see how the “Plebeian Yankee” (thus Ada termed me) would demean herself as the wife a southern planter.
Dusky faces, with white shining eyes, peered round the corner of the building as the carriage stopped before the door, and more than one whisper reached me. “Dat’s she—de new Miss, dat mars’r’s liftin’ so keerfully.”
Upon the piazza stood Mrs. Lansing, her face wreathed in smiles, while at her side, in flowing white muslin, were Ada and Lina, the former of whom sprang gaily down the steps, and with well feigned joy threw herself into the arms of her guardian, who, after kissing her affectionately, presented her to me, saying, “Will Ada be a sister to my wife?”
“Anything, for your sake,” answered Ada, with rather more emphasis on your than was quite pleasing me.
Mrs. Lansing came next, and there was something of hauteur in her manner as she advanced, for much as she desired to please her brother, she was not yet fully prepared to meet me as an equal. But Richard knew the avenue to her heart, and as he placed my hand in hers, he said, “For the sake of Jessie you will love my bride, I am sure.”
It was enough; Jessie was forgotten by many who had wept bitterly when first they heard the sad news of her death, but in the mother’s heart there was an aching void, and as if the gentle, blue-eyed child were pleading for me from her little grave, the proud woman’s eyes were moist with tears as she said, “Yes, for Jessie’s sake do I l——” she paused, for with that sacred name upon her lips even she could not utter a falsehood and say, “I love you,” so she qualified it, and after a moment continued, “I will learn to love you, Rose, for such I know would be our angel Jessie’s wish.”
From Lina I expected no demonstration. She was too selfish, too listless to care for any one, so when she coolly shook my hand and called me Mrs. Delafield, I was quite satisfied, particularly as the next moment Halbert caught me round the neck, shouting out a noisy, but genuine welcome to his “Aunt Rose,” and telling me “he was mighty glad I’d come back to stay for good.”
“You have quite a party,” said Richard to his sister as we entered the spacious hall, I shrinking behind him so as to hide myself from the curious eyes which I knew were scanning my dusty travelling dress.