At this point Mr. Leland wisely desisted. Somehow he hoped to circumvent the boy; hoped to regain full control, forgetting that Osmond’s mind was daily developing, and that he was now able to think for himself. So when the son’s intention of going away with his mother and sister became known another storm broke loose. But Osmond was firm, and on the morning that witnessed the departure of the colonists he appeared with the rest, equipped and ready for the journey. Meta’s dark head appeared beside him. She was growing to be quite a big girl and all along the journey she was his especial care. His “little sweetheart”—she had been termed long since, and the grave-faced child was proud of the title.
CHAPTER XXXXV.
At the close of a warm sunny day they alighted at “Willow Grove,” the name of the station nearest their future home. Wagons were in waiting, upon which their effects were loaded.
“But we will walk!” said Owen, “only ten minutes. The exercise will do us good, after our long confinement with scarcely any movement.”
And with an arm encircling Cora’s waist he led the way. Many were the exclamations of delight as beauty after beauty unfolded itself before their eyes, but when a turn in the roadway brought in full view the imposing stone structure with its many arches and turrets, its profusion of vines and flowers, a long drawn “Oh!” escaped from each beholder.
Owen drew Cora aside so as to permit the next couple, Lawrence and Hilda, to be first. Silently every man bared his head. Lawrence kissed the little hand resting upon his arm,
“Our Hilda’s Home!”
With hands clasped above her heart Hilda stood and gazed.
“My dream realized! Mine the dream, but yours,” turning to Owen, “the realization. To you belongs the honor and greatness of this hour.”
“Tut, tut, little one! How worthless my millions without the plan,—without the work of the mighty mind. Have you no wish reserved for the architect?”