An hour later the tom toms were again heard, this time calling all to the feast. The maidens and the young men of their choice, took their seats on the soft mats which were placed in the centre piece of the letter H, the older ones of the company sitting at the sides.
It was now evening and the banquet was lit by means of kui-kui, or candle nuts, strung on cords of braided sea-weed and hanging from tree to tree, being lighted at the top and burning with a blue light; the thousands of these little lamps made it seem like fairyland. The feast lasted long and high ran the merriment of these happy children of nature on this isle of the blest. Presently the moon arose, bathing the scene in a flood of silvery light, making it, if possible, still more bewitching. After supper dancing was resumed and lasted far into the morning.
CHAPTER XI.
We will leave Mabel and her friends on the Island of Kaahlanai (the isle of the sun ) and we will return to the home of Mr. Miller.
After Mabel’s departure, the wedding of Lucy Maynard, which was soon to take place, was hastened by Harry Howard being sent by his firm to Europe. Not wishing to go without his bride, the preparations for the wedding were hurried, and six weeks after Mabel had sailed for Australia Harry and Lucy were married. Their wedding was a grand affair, Mrs. Maynard’s ambition being satisfied in the matter of display and expense, as her brother, Mr. Miller made liberal provision for Lucy in every respect. After the wedding the bride and groom left for New York on their way to Europe, and Mrs. Maynard was perfectly happy as a wedding trip to Europe was the acme of refinement and could only be indulged in by a select few.
As the weeks dragged themselves wearily into months and still no tidings came of the Western Shore, or her ill-fated crew or passengers, Mr. Miller gave up his loved daughter as lost. He no longer took an interest in his business but would sit with folded hands thinking of Mabel for hours at a time. Mrs. Maynard tried in every way to have her brother throw off his grief. One day she said to him, “Why don’t you try to arouse yourself from this melancholy, James, and take some interest in the life around you? You can’t bring Mabel back by this ceaseless mourning.”
Mr. Miller’s face was pitiful as he looked up and reiterated, “Interest in life. What interest have I in life, now that she, my darling child, is gone? What have I worked for all these years, but for her sake? What did I care for money, but that she might enjoy it? No, there is nothing left for me to live for. Oh, why, why did I ever let her leave me? Now in my old age she is gone, gone.” He dropped his head in his hands and his whole frame shook with emotion.
Mrs. Maynard’s face darkened. She had no patience with such grief which after months could show no signs of abatement. Her nature could not comprehend it. Mr. Miller’s constant brooding over his trouble soon told upon his health, and rapidly developed a disease that had been lurking in his system for years. So quickly did his health fail that about ten months after Mabel left home, he was no longer able to leave his bed. Day by day he grew worse until six weeks later, when he was laid to rest in Lone Mountain cemetery, and Mabel was now an orphan.
The day after the funeral Mr. Faxon, Mr. Miller’s lawyer, read the will to Mrs. Maynard.
“Why, Mr. Faxon, he could not have been in his right mind when he made such a will,” exclaimed Mrs. Maynard.