Christian life -- Juvenile fiction; Dinsmore, Elsie (Fictitious character) -- Juvenile fiction; Domestic fiction; Religious fiction
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GRANDMOTHER ELSIE
A SEQUEL TO
"ELSIE'S WIDOWHOOD"
By MARTHA FINLEY
COMPLETE AUTHORIZED EDITION
"The web of our life is of a mingled yarn,
good and ill together."--Shakespeare
Published by arrangement with
Dodd, Mead and Company
A.L. BURT COMPANY
_PUBLISHERS_
New York Chicago
1882,
BY
DODD, MEAD & COMPANY
1910,
BY
CHARLES B. FINLEY
GRANDMOTHER ELSIE
CHAPTER I.
"Every state,
Allotted to the race of man below,
Is in proportion, doom'd to taste some sorrow."
--_Rowe_.
The Ion family were at home again after their summer on the New Jersey
coast.
It was a delightful morning early in October: the dew-drops on the still
green grass of the neatly kept lawn sparkled in the rays of the newly
risen sun; the bright waters of the lakelet also, as, ruffled by the
breeze, they broke gently about the prow of the pretty row-boat moored to
the little wharf; the gardens were gay with bright-hued flowers, the trees
gorgeous in their autumnal dress.
But though doors and windows were open, the gardener and his assistants at
work in the grounds, there seemed a strange quiet about the place: when
the men spoke to each other it was in subdued tones; there was no
sound--as in other days--of little feet running hither and thither, nor
of childish prattle or laughter.
Two horses stood ready saddled and bridled before the principal entrance
to the mansion, and Mr. Horace Dinsmore was pacing the veranda to and fro
with slow, meditative step, while Bruno, crouching beside the door,
followed his movements with wistful, questioning eyes, doubtless wondering
what had become of his accustomed merry, romping play-mates.
A light step came down the hall, and a lady in riding hat and habit
stepped from the open doorway, stooped for an instant to touch the dog's
head caressingly with a "Poor Bruno! do you miss your playfellows?" then
glided quickly toward Mr. Dinsmore, who received her with open arms and
tenderest caress.
Then holding her off and scrutinizing the sweet, fair face with keen,
searching eye, "You are looking better and brighter than I dared to hope,
my darling," he said. "Did you get some sleep?"
"Yes, papa, thank you, several hours. And you? did you rest well?"
"Yes, daughter. How are the children?"
"No worse, Arthur says; perhaps a trifle better. He, Elsie and Mammy are
with them now, and 'Mamma' can be spared for a short ride with her
father," she said, smiling lovingly into the eyes that were gazing with
the tenderest fatherly affection upon her.
"That is right; you need the air and exercise sorely; a few more days of
such close confinement and assiduous nursing would, I very much fear, tell
seriously upon your health."
He led her to the side of her steed and assisted her into the saddle as he
spoke, then vaulted into his own with the agility of youth.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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