Mildred at Home: With Something About Her Relatives and Friends.

Chapter Eighteenth

 
"I bless thee for the noble heart,
The tender and the true,
Where mine hath found the happiest rest
That e'er fond woman's knew."
 

Mrs. Hemans.

Mrs. Baird made short work of clearing away the remains of the supper and setting everything to rights. Then taking two of her sons with her, she repaired to the garden.

All three presently returned laden with flowers, with which they proceeded to ornament the parlor, after setting aside some of the fairest and most fragrant for the adornment of the bride.

"What next, mother?" asked Tom. "You are hardly thinking of having a wedding in the house without refreshments, I suppose?"

"No; I've plenty of cake baked: three kinds – bride, pound, and sponge cakes. Now you boys go to the garden and gather all the finest fruits you can find, while I help the bride to dress."

"Dress?" laughed Tom; "what has she to dress in? Will she put on her Indian toggery again?"

"You'll see when the time comes," said his mother. "Now off with you, and show how well you can do your part."

Mr. Baird had repaired to the front porch with his guests, and an animated conversation was going on there, Mr. Clark and Rupert being the chief speakers, when the good lady of the house appeared among them with the announcement that it was time for every one of them to be dressing for the wedding.

"You know your room, Mr. Clark. I've had your saddlebags carried there, and you'll find everything necessary for making your toilet. Mr. Baird, will you please to attend to Mr. Keith? I shall take care of the bride." And linking Juanita's arm in hers she led her into the house and to a large, airy bedroom that, with its white draped windows, toilet-table, and bed, looked very suitable for a bridal chamber.

The white dress, the new moccasins, and a profusion of loveliest flowers were there.

Juanita sent a swift glance about the room, taking in all these details and more (the room seemed pervaded by a simple air of elegance, and its atmosphere was redolent of the sweet breath of the flowers); then turning to her kind hostess, threw her arms round her neck, and with quivering lips and eyes full of tears said, "Oh, how good, how good you are to a poor wayfarer, dear lady!"

"It's very little I'm doing, dear child," said Mrs. Baird, returning the embrace. "I'm afraid it must seem but a forlorn kind of wedding to you; and yet I think you should be a happy bride, for sure I am that if you are not a happy wife it will not be the fault of the man you are marrying."

"No," cried Juanita, smiles chasing away the tears, "there cannot be another in all the world like my Rupert."

"I must own that I have taken a great fancy to him," Mrs. Baird said, smiling and stroking Juanita's hair caressingly. "Now, dear, let me help you to dress. I want the pleasure of arranging this beautiful hair and trimming it with flowers. They are the most suitable ornament for a bride, and fortunately we have an abundant supply."

"Yes, I prefer them to jewels," said Juanita.

"My dear, you look lovely!" was the delighted exclamation of the good lady when her labors were completed. "Simple and old-fashioned as the dress is, it becomes you wonderfully. I never saw a bride in the richest white silk or satin look half so beautiful as you do in it."

"Ah, you flatter me, my kind friend!" Juanita said, with a blush that enhanced her charms.

"Now sit down for a few minutes while I trim the room with the rest of these roses, lilies, and orange blossoms," said her hostess, "and then I'll go and send Mr. Keith to stay with you till I call you to the parlor."

"Ah, may I not help? I would rather," Juanita said, half imploringly. "Dear lady, you must be quite exhausted with the many labors of the day."

"No, no, not at all," laughed Mrs. Baird gayly; "as my husband often says, I have a wonderful capacity for work. I really do believe it was what I was made for."

"You are never ill?"

"No, never; and what a cause for thankfulness! What earthly blessing greater than good health?"

A little later Rupert came in to find Juanita alone, seated before the window, gazing out upon a beautiful landscape of prairie and forest, with richly wooded hills in the distance.

He stepped lightly across the floor, but her quick ear caught the sound of his footfalls. She turned, rose hastily, and threw herself into his outstretched arms.

"My beautiful! my beautiful!" he said, softly, holding her close with tenderest caresses.

"Ah, my love, my love, I would I were ten times more beautiful for your dear sake," she responded, gazing into his face with eyes full of happy tears.

"That would be quite impossible," he said, holding her off a little, the better to view her charms, then drawing her close again to repeat his caresses.

So happy in each other were they that the time did not seem long till they were summoned to the parlor, where the whole Baird family and the minister were in waiting.

It was a short, simple, yet impressive ceremony, and the spectators, though few in number, were very hearty and sincere in their congratulations at its close. Rupert felt that all he needed to complete his happiness was the presence of his parents, brothers, and sisters – all, alas, so far away.

He was very eager to reach home, but so weary were both he and Juanita that he had already decided to accept the kind invitation of these new-found friends to stay some weeks with them. Also it was absolutely necessary they should make some preparation, in the matter of dress, for a decent appearance in civilized society.

The table spread by Mrs. Baird and her sons with the simple wedding feast of cake and fruits, garnished with a profusion of beautiful, fragrant flowers, presented a most attractive appearance; nor were its delicacies found less agreeable to the palate than satisfying to the eye.

There was no revel, no intoxicating drink, though a great abundance of delicious lemonade, nor was the feasting prolonged to excess; there was in fact more talk than eating and drinking, and at a primitively early hour all had retired, each to his own room.

"At last, love, we know beyond a question that we are truly husband and wife," Rupert said, holding Juanita to his heart with tenderest caresses. "Does the certainty add to your happiness, as it does to mine?"

"Yes," she murmured, softly; "oh, I am happier than ever before in all my life!"

"Ah, it makes my heart glad to hear it! How proud I shall be to show my little wife to the dear ones at home. I hope to have an opportunity on Monday to send them a few lines to tell that I am yet alive and hope to be with them in a few weeks."

He availed himself of that opportunity, writing to Dr. Landreth to break the news to his parents, but the letter never reached its destination. Hence the intense surprise of his relatives when he arrived among them.

The remainder of the journey was performed in comparative comfort. Rupert bought a pair of stout mules and a roomy wagon, which he and the hospitable Bairds stocked with everything necessary for a journey of several hundred miles through a sparsely settled country.

In this the young couple travelled to New Orleans, stopping at night at some village, farmhouse, or ranch, when any such shelter was near, at other times unharnessing and tethering their mules and sleeping in their wagon.

The parting with the Bairds was a sorrowful one on both sides, for they had become sincerely attached during the weeks spent together, and it was very unlikely they would ever meet again on earth. Their only consolation was in the strong hope and expectation of a final reunion in another and better world.

Rupert and Juanita set out upon this stage of their long journey very decently attired in garments suitable for the exigencies of that kind of travel, and carrying some changes with them.

In New Orleans they replenished their wardrobes, so that they presented a decidedly fashionable and stylish appearance; sold the wagon and mules, and took passage on a Mississippi steamer bound for St. Louis.

The trip up the river seemed really restful after the far more toilsome mode of travel they had practised for so long. They made some pleasant acquaintances too, and altogether greatly enjoyed the voyage, with its return to the usages of civilized life.

They stayed but a few hours in St. Louis, then hurried on to Pleasant Plains by the nearest and most rapid route, for Rupert was in a fever of impatience to reach home and the dear ones from whom he had been so long and sadly parted.

Such was the story told to the assembled family on the morning after their arrival, and of course it was listened to with absorbing and often painful interest, and followed up by many questions, now from one and now from another.

It was Annis who asked, "What became of your diamond, Ru?"

"Did I say positively that it was a diamond?" he asked, in sportive tone.

"No, I believe not; but what did you do with it?"

"Sold it, little sister; sold it for five thousand dollars."

There was an exclamation of delight from all present except Juanita, to whom the fact was no news.

"Why, my good brother, you seem to have made quite a speculation out of your misfortune in being captured and held prisoner so long," laughed Dr. Landreth.

"Yes," Rupert said, with an ardent look of love directed to his bride. "I found a treasure there that I could have found nowhere else, therefore do not regret all I have suffered. Though I would the suffering had been mine alone," he added, with a tender glance at his mother's worn face and a perceptible tremble in his manly tones.

"Never mind, my dear boy," she said, laying her hand affectionately upon his arm and gazing with all a mother's love and pride into his handsome face; "none of us need care for them now that they are all over and we have you safe among us once more."

"In fine, vigorous health too, I should say, from your appearance," added the doctor.

"Yes, Charlie, your prescription has worked wonders," Rupert replied, with a happy laugh. "I never felt better in my life."

"And you are quite a rich man," the doctor went on gayly. "Your business here has thrived and increased under my fostering care, so that there are a few thousands in bank to add to those you have brought with you; and besides, the fine business ready for you to step into again this very day if you like."

"Charlie, how can I thank you!" Rupert exclaimed with emotion, grasping the doctor's hand with brotherly warmth.

"No thanks needed, Ru," returned the doctor, laconically. "Don, my boy," wheeling round upon him, "I don't believe one of us has asked what success in the search for gold you have to tell of."

"No," said the mother; "we were so glad to get sight of his face that we never thought of the gold."

Don gave her a loving smile. "And I," he said, "have been so taken up with the happiness of being with you all again, and the return of my brother, 'who was dead and is alive again, was lost and is found,' that I have not thought of it myself. I have been moderately successful, so that I have enough to give me a fair start in business."

"I'm very glad, Don," said Rupert. "And if you shouldn't have quite enough, you won't be too proud to take a little help from your older brother, will you?"

"Or your brother-in-law?" supplemented the doctor.

"Or your father?" Mr. Keith added, with an affectionate look and smile. "I am abundantly able, and have, perhaps, the best right."

Don's face beamed with happiness. "Thank you all," he said.

"No, I shouldn't be too proud to accept help from any of you, father especially; but I hope not to need it."

"But, Rupert," said Wallace, inquiringly, "I suppose you had to use a part of your five thousand for travelling expenses?"

"No, you needn't suppose any such thing, my good brother," replied Rupert, with a good-humored laugh; "the gold I told you Juanita and I picked up was more than sufficient for that and all other expenditures – for clothing and so forth – in fact we still have a few hundreds of it left."

"Fortunate creatures that you are!" said Zillah. "And yet I don't think ten times what you have would pay for that long captivity among the Indians."

"No," said Rupert, "I would not voluntarily endure it again for that, or twice that; though now that it is over I am not sorry to have had the experience. Are you for your share of it, love?" to Juanita, sitting by his side.

"Ah, my husband," lifting to him eyes beaming with love and happiness, "I can never, never regret anything that brought us together!"

"What beautifully correct English Juanita speaks," remarked Mildred, admiringly.

"Yes, I think so," said Rupert, "and take all the credit to myself, since I have been her only teacher; she could not speak a word of it when we first met."

"He first stole my heart," said Juanita, with a low, musical laugh, "and then it was not so difficult to make me understand and speak his language."

"No," said Rupert; "if there was any theft it was on your side; you robbed me of my heart with the first glance of your lovely eyes, so that when I got possession of yours it was only a fair exchange, which, according to the proverb, is no robbery."

Juanita looked at him with pretended reproach in her beautiful eyes. "He always gets the better of me when we quarrel like this; he always will have the last word."

"Ah, but you shouldn't let him," Zillah said, with a merry look at her husband. "Wallace knows better than to expect it always. Don't you, dear?"

"Oh yes, of course," laughed Wallace; "but for all that I'm not apt to stop till I've freed my mind; and sometimes my wife is wise enough not to answer back unless with soft words or a merry jest that conquers my inclination to be disagreeable."

"She's a very nice, wise little woman," remarked the doctor, "yet, I think, excelled to some extent by her elder sister," glancing at Mildred as he spoke.

"Probably the possessive pronoun has not a little to do with that opinion, Charlie," Mildred said, with a happy smile.

"Rupert," said Don, "did you never lose your way while crossing those almost boundless Texas prairies?"

"Once we did," replied Rupert, "but finding a compass after some little search we were able to go on in the right direction."

"A compass?" cried Annis; "what sort of compass could be found out there?"

"It is a little plant which grows there, can always be found, and under all circumstances, in all kinds of weather – sunshine, rain, or frost – invariably turns its leaves and flowers to the north. Mr. Baird pointed it out to me, and told me this about it before we left his ranch."

"What a wonderful provision of nature!" exclaimed Wallace.

"How kindly God provides for all the needs of His creatures," said Mrs. Keith.

Silence fell upon them for a moment. It was broken by an exclamation from Juanita.

"What a happy family, my Rupert! How many brothers and sisters, and all so kind and loving to each other."

"And these are not all, my Juanita," he said. "Ah, if only Ada and Cyril were here!" turning to his mother as he spoke.

"Your father has already written for Cyril to come home to see his long-lost brothers," she said, "but Ada we can hardly hope to see for a year or two yet."

"Is she happy?" he asked.

"Very happy in her chosen work, as well as in her husband and two sweet children."

"Dear girl," he murmured, "I trust she will have many stars in her crown of rejoicing. You too, mother. What a good work you have done in training her for hers."

"To God be all the glory," she said; "without His blessing all my teachings would have availed nothing. And greatly as I miss my dear daughter, I feel that He has highly honored me in making me the mother of a devoted missionary of the cross.

"Ah, Rupert, you have had an opportunity to do a like work for the Master while an involuntary dweller among a heathen people."

She looked at him inquiringly as she spoke.

"Yes," he said, "and I made some effort to improve it. I told the old, old story to all whom I could get to listen, and sometimes I thought their hearts were touched. I trust the seed sown may some day spring up and bring forth fruit, though I shall know nothing of it till we meet before the great white throne.

"There was one – an old man, who was ill a long while, dying of consumption – of whom I have strong hope.

"I did what I could to relieve his physical suffering, and he was very grateful. That made him the more willing to listen to my talk of the evil of sin, the danger of eternal death, and God's appointed way of salvation.

"At first he heard me with apparently perfect indifference, but after some time he became deeply convicted of sin, and at length, as I had reason to believe, sincerely converted.

"'Was it for me? for me? Did He die to save me?' he asked again and again, the tears falling fast from his aged eyes. 'And His blood cleanses from all sin, all sin?' he repeated over and over again. Then holding up his hands, 'These hands are red – red with the blood of my foes,' he said. 'I have been on the war-path many, many times; I have taken very many scalps; I have slain men, women, and little children. Can His blood wash away such stains?'

"'Yes,' I said. 'Let me read you the very words from God's own Book;' and I did so, for I had my Bible in my hand.

"'The blood of Jesus Christ His Son cleanseth us from all sin. And He is mighty to save,' I added; then read again from the Book,

"'He is able also to save them to the uttermost that come unto God by Him, seeing He ever liveth to make intercession for them.'

"Then I read again from the Book, 'It is Christ that died, yea, rather that is risen again, who is ever at the right hand of God, who also maketh intercession for us,' and spoke more fully than I had before of the resurrection, and of Christ as our Advocate with the Father, the one Mediator between God and man.

"He listened eagerly, hanging upon my words as if he felt that the life of his soul depended upon his full understanding of them.

"And I think he did fully comprehend at last, for such light and peace came into his face as almost transfigured it; one could not have believed it the face of a savage. And the expression never changed during the few hours that he lived.

"I stayed with him to the end, and it was perfectly calm and peaceful."

Rupert paused, overcome by emotion. Juanita crept closer to him and put her hand in his, while her eyes sought his face with a look of sympathy and love.

He pressed the little hand fondly, giving her a reassuring smile. Then addressing his mother again, "I shall always feel," he said, "that the salvation of that one soul more than repays all I have suffered in consequence of my capture by the Indians."

"Yes," she said, "it is worth more than the sufferings we have all endured in consequence of that, to us, dreadful event. For they were but temporary, and that soul will live forever."

Chapter Nineteenth

 
"Happy in this, she is not yet so old
But she may learn; happier than this,
She is not bred so dull but she can learn;
Happiest of all is that her gentle spirit
Commits itself to yours to be directed,
As from her lord, her governor, her king."
 

Shakespeare

"What do you think of the new member of the family, Cousin Flora?" asked Dr. Landreth.

It was the afternoon of the day succeeding the arrival of Don, and Rupert and his wife. Dr. Landreth had a call to the country, and had invited Flora to drive with him.

They had left the town behind, and were bowling rapidly along a smooth, level road running through woods gorgeous in their autumn robes of crimson and gold, russet, green, and brown.

Flora had been among the listeners to Rupert's story of his and Juanita's captivity and subsequent wanderings, and had, as the doctor noticed at the time, furtively watched Juanita very closely.

"I admire her, of course," was the reply.

"But why of course?" he asked.

"You all do; no one could help it. She is very dark, but extremely handsome in spite of that."

Rupert was at that very time asking his mother that same question, having gone to her room and found her there alone.

"I think her sweet and beautiful in appearance and manners," Mrs. Keith answered, smiling up at her tall son as he stood at her side, and making room for him on the couch where she sat. "There has not been time for me to form any further judgment," she continued as he accepted her invitation, taking her hand fondly into his, "but I assure you I am disposed to the very most favorable opinion, both because you love her and of all she has done for you. Perhaps but for her faithful nursing of my wounded boy I should never have seen his dear face again."

Her voice trembled with emotion as she spoke the last words.

"Very likely not, dear mother," Rupert said, supporting her with his arm. "But setting aside the gratitude, which is certainly her due, from me at least, I am sure you will soon learn to love her for her many very lovable qualities."

"I do not doubt it, my son. And it rejoices my heart to see how great is your mutual love. I trust it may but increase with years, as has your father's and mine."

"I hope so indeed, mother. It has always been very evident to me that you and my father loved each other dearly. I do not remember ever to have heard either one address an unkind word to the other."

"No," she said; "your father has been the best of husbands to me always."

Then after a little pause, "Has your wife any education, Rupert?"

"Not much besides what I have contrived to give her myself in the three years we have been together," he said. "But I have really succeeded in giving her a good deal of general information orally, and have taught her to read English, using my Bible as a text-book, and to write, using a pointed stick and the sand.

"I had thought of placing her in a boarding-school for a time, but she was so distressed at the very suggestion – declaring that it would break her heart to be separated from me – that I have quite given up the idea.

"She is very bright, quick to catch an idea, and more than willing to study under my tuition, to please me, if for no other reason.

"And she has great musical talent. I must get her to sing for you all this evening. You will be delighted with her voice and her execution."

"Well, my boy, I am inclined to think she will make you happy, so far as a wife can. She is very graceful and ladylike, and I think you will succeed in educating her as far as necessary for her happiness and yours. I suppose she knows little or nothing of housewifely accomplishments; but those too she can learn, and you will live with us for the present at least, I trust, if not permanently, and if she will let me I shall gladly teach her all I know of such matters."

"Dear mother, thank you," he said, his eyes shining with pleasure; "she could not have a more competent or kinder instructor, and I know she will be glad to avail herself of your kind offer, if only for my sake.

"She tried to learn as much as possible from good Mrs. Baird while we were there, and succeeded well too, I thought, in everything she attempted."

On leaving his mother Rupert went in search of his wife. He found her alone in the parlor, hovering over the open piano.

"O Rupert," she cried, looking up almost pleadingly into his face, "do you think I may try it? would any one be displeased?"

"Certainly you may try it if you wish," he replied, half laughing at the absurdity of her doubt; "there is no danger of any objection being raised; but can you play on it?"

She answered only with a sportive, delighted arch smile, seated herself at the instrument, and dashed off into a brilliant waltz.

Rupert was in raptures.

"Why, Juanita!" he exclaimed, as she struck the last notes, then turned to look up in his face with dancing eyes, "you never told me you could play the piano."

"No, señor; you never asked if I could."

The different members of the family had come flocking in, drawn by the music, and wondering who the player was, for the tune was new to them and the touch different from that of any of themselves.

"Give us a song, love," requested the delighted young husband.

She complied at once, and the effect upon the small audience was fully up to Rupert's expectation. She had a magnificent voice, strong, full, of great compass and flexibility, sweet and clear as the warble of a bird; a voice that would have made her fortune as a prima donna; nor was it entirely uncultivated.

How they crowded round her and poured out their thanks and praises, begging for another and still another till the tea-bell summoned them away to their evening meal!

Juanita's playing and singing were destined henceforth to form one of the greatest enjoyments of the entire family.

Cyril came home for a short visit, and for several weeks they all (except the doctor, whose patients had to be attended to) gave themselves up, for the most of the time, to the enjoyment of each other's society. It was so delightful to be together again after the long separation of Rupert and Don from the others, that they seemed unable to remain apart for any length of time.

They gathered now at one of the three houses, now at another. One day the mother was the hostess, then Mildred, then Zillah; but at whichever dwelling they congregated all were perfectly at home, Juanita very soon as much so as the rest, for they all gave her a daughter's and sister's place, calling her by those names, while the little ones were taught to say, "Aunt Nita."

She was a trifle shy and reserved at first, but her timidity soon melted away under the sunshine of love that constantly shone upon her. She grew sweetly confiding and affectionate, not to her husband only, but to all his relatives.

Influenced by an ardent desire to be and do all he could wish, she silently took note of all the housewifely ways of his mother and sisters, determined to copy them as nearly as possible when she also should become a housekeeper; rather dreading, too, the coming of the time when she must assume the duties of that position, because she felt herself hardly equal to their full performance.

It was several weeks after their arrival in Pleasant Plains that one day, finding himself alone with her, Rupert asked, "Juanita, my love, which would you prefer, going to housekeeping, or just living on here as we have been doing so far, with my father and mother?"

"Ah, Rupert, would they like to have us stay?" she asked, with an eager look up into his face, for he was standing beside the low chair in which she was seated.

"Yes," he said, smiling down on her; "and I see you would like it too."

"Oh no, not unless you please; I mean I should prefer whatever would be most for the pleasure and happiness of my dear husband."

"Thank you, love," he said, bending down to caress her hair and cheek; "then we will stay here at least for the present, for I perceive that will be agreeable to all parties. But whenever you weary of it, and think you would be happier in a home of your own, you must tell me so without reserve. Promise me that you will."

"Yes, señor," she returned, gayly, "I promise; but the time will never come till I have learned to do all housewifely duties just as your dear mother does."

Her words gave him great pleasure, and she saw with delight that they did. She sprang up in a pretty, impulsive way she had, threw her arms round his neck, and gazing up into his face with eyes beaming with light and love, "Oh, my dear husband," she cried, "how good, how kind you are to me always, always!"

"I should be a brute if I were anything else to you, my precious little darling!" he said, holding her close, with many a fond caress.

Rupert was again devoting himself to business with all the old energy and faithfulness.

Don, unable to decide what was best suited to his capacity and inclination, waited for some sort of opening, and in the mean time resumed some of his former studies, and spent a good deal of his leisure in the society of his sisters and Dr. Landreth's relative and guest, Miss Flora Weston.

He was pleased with her, and the liking was mutual. Don was a handsome, high-spirited fellow, and could be very entertaining in conversation. And Flora, with improving health and spirits, had become quite an attractive girl.

The friendship at length ripened into love. She remained in Pleasant Plains through the winter, and before spring had fairly opened the two were affianced, with the knowledge and consent of parents and relatives on both sides. But as both were very young, the marriage would not take place for a year or more.

In May Mr. Weston came for his daughter.

His home was in New Jersey, where he was largely engaged in manufactures, and he had not been long in Pleasant Plains before he proposed that Don should take a position in his business establishment, with the prospect of becoming a partner at no very distant day.

Don thanked him heartily, took a few days to consider the matter and consult with parents and friends, then accepted the offer, and again bade farewell to home and kindred; but this time the parting was by no means so sorrowful as on a former occasion.

He was not going so far away or into such dangers, difficulties, and temptations, and might hope to return now and then for a visit to his childhood's home. It was but such a separation as is common between parents and their sons grown to man's estate.

Here we will leave our friends for the present, perhaps taking up the thread of our narrative again at some future day, and telling what befell them in after years.

THE END