he had asked her to assume. "And he loved her as he never had loved and never could love another. Would she not reconsider? Would she not be persuaded?"
She told him she highly esteemed him as a man and a minister, that she felt greatly honored by his preference, but could not love him in the way he wished.
"Ah," he said, "what a sad blunderer I am! I see have spoken too soon. Yet give me a little hope, dear girl, and I will wait patiently and do my best to win the place in your heart I so ardently covet."
She could not bring herself to acknowledge that that place was already filled, and he would not resign the hope of finally winning her.
During the rest of that day and the morning of the next he treated her to frequent, lengthened discourses on the duty of every one to live the most useful life possible, on the rare opportunities of so doing afforded by the position of minister's wife, and on the permanence and sure increase of connubial love when founded upon mutual respect and esteem, till at length a vague fear crept over her that he might finally succeed in proving to her that it was her duty to resign the hope that at some future day the barrier to her union with the man of her choice would be swept away, and to marry him on account of the sphere of usefulness such a match would open to her.
She heard him for the most part in silence, now and then varied by a slight nod of acquiescence in the sentiments he expressed, yet even from these scant tokens of favor he ventured to take courage and to hope that her rejection of his suit would not prove final.
It was a great relief to her that they were not alone for the last ten miles that lay between them and Pleasant Plains.
CHAPTER V
"Nor need we power or splendor,
Wide hall or lordly dome;
The good, the true, the tender —
These form the wealth of home."
Could that be home – that pretty, tasteful dwelling, embosomed in trees, shrubs, and vines? Mildred was half in doubt, for the house itself seemed to have grown as well as the vegetation that environed it. But yes, the stage was stopping: and there were father and Rupert at the gate, mother and the rest on the porch; every face beaming a joyous welcome.
How Mr. Lord envied them as the stage whirled him rapidly away, out of sight and hearing of the glad greetings!
We will not attempt to describe these: there were close embraces, tears of joy, low-breathed words of tenderness and love, of gratitude to Him who had preserved a beloved child in all her journeyings, and brought her to her home again in safety and health; and there were shouts of delight from the little ones, to whom it seemed half a lifetime since sister Milly went away.
"How we have missed you! and, oh, how glad we are to have you back again!" her mother said, looking smilingly at her, but with glistening eyes.
"She's changed," said Rupert, regarding her critically; "she's prettier than ever, and – and something else."
Zillah supplied the word – "More stylish."
"And you! why, you are a young lady!" exclaimed Mildred, gazing at her in astonishment.
"I'm fifteen, and taller than you, I do believe," returned Zillah, laughing and blushing.
"And how you're all grown!" Mildred went on, glancing round the circle.
"Except father and mother," laughed Rupert. "Haven't I nearly caught up to father in height?"
"So you have, and I shall be very proud of my big brother."
"Well, I declare, if you hain't come at last – thought you never was a comin'!" exclaimed a voice in Mildred's rear; and as she turned quickly about, a toil-hardened hand seized hers in a grasp that almost forced from her a little cry of pain.
"Yes," she said, "I have, and am very glad to find you here, Celestia Ann. You kept your promise."
"A heap better'n you did yours. Why you stayed more'n as long agin as you said you was agoin' to when you went off. Had a good time?"
"Yes; but I'm very glad to get home."
"So you'd ought to be. You look right down tired; and I reckon you are all that, and hungry, too. Well, I'll have dinner on table in about ten minutes;" and with the last word she vanished in the direction of the kitchen.
A look of expectant delight was on every face of the group about Mildred as the mother, saying, "Come, dear child, you will want to get rid of some of the dust of travel," led the way from the room, the others all following.
"Why, the house has grown too," was the young girl's delighted exclamation, as she was ushered into an apartment she had never seen before – large, airy, neatly and tastefully though inexpensively furnished; white muslin curtains at the windows, a snowy counterpane on the bed; everything new and fresh except the books in the hanging shelves on the wall, and some little ornaments which she recognized as her own peculiar property.
"Yes," her father answered, smiling fondly upon her, "so much so that we shall now have abundance of room, even with our eldest girl at home, and we hope it will be a very long while before she will want to run away again."
"Yes, indeed, father dear," she said, putting her arms around his neck; "oh, if you only knew how glad I am to get back!"
"This is your room, Milly; do you like it?" the children were asking in eager tones.
"Yes, yes, indeed! it is perfectly lovely! But, mother, it ought to be yours; it is larger and cheerier than yours."
"Ah! you are assuming to know more than you do, my child," laughed Mrs. Keith. "I, too, have one of the new rooms – there are six in all – and it is in every respect quite equal to this. But make haste with your toilet, for the dinner bell will soon ring."
They lingered at the table, eating slowly, because there was so much talking to be done – such pleasant, cheerful chat.
Then came the opening of Mildred's trunk, and the distribution of the purchases she had been commissioned to make, and of her own modest gifts to father, mother, brothers, and sisters, and the more expensive ones from Aunt Wealthy and the Dinsmore relatives. Of these last, little Elsie's were by far the most costly and valuable.
The children were wild with delight, the parents quietly happy in their pleasure, and gratified with the remembrances to themselves.
Mildred exhibited her watch and chain, calling forth exclamations of intense admiration and hearty congratulations.
"O sister Milly, how lovely!" cried Zillah; "I never saw anything so beautiful, and I'm so glad you have it! I don't believe there's another lady in town who has a gold watch."
"No, I presume not," returned Mildred, gazing down upon it with a pleased, but rather absent look, "and it is extremely pretty; yet not half so beautiful as the dear little giver." And then she launched out into the warmest of eulogies upon little Elsie – her loveliness of both person and disposition.
"She must have loads of money to buy you that splendid watch, and all these things for the rest of us," remarked Cyril.
"Yes, indeed! I'd like to be in her place," said Ada.
"I wouldn't," said Mildred; "and I don't believe you would, Ada, if you quite understood her position."
"Why?"
