Mildred Keith - Complete 7 Book Collection. Finley Martha
not fear for me."
"Dear auntie, if the Saviour were here, I think he would say to you, 'O woman, great is thy faith!'"
"My dear, I deserve no such commendation; my faith is often very weak. But I want you to remember and try to realize that this almighty Friend not only goes with me when I leave you, but stays with you also; according to His gracious promise, 'I will never leave thee nor forsake thee.'
"Troubles and trials will come and there are dark and stormy days in every life—but 'as thy days so shall thy strength be.'
"I can not tell you, Mildred, how hard it is for me to leave you all," she continued, her voice trembling with emotion, "but it would be ten times harder were it not that I know 'this God is our God forever and ever;' and that 'he will be our guide even unto death.'"
"Aunt Wealthy," said Mrs. Keith coming in again, "Stuart and I have been talking this over—this resolve of yours to return to Ohio—and he says it will never do for you to attempt it without an escort."
"I shall be very glad of an escort, if there is one to be had," Miss Stanhope answered; "but if not, I must even go without—trusting in Providence."
"But you would wait a few weeks rather than go alone?"
"Certainly; God works by means, and we are to use them, while at the same time we trust only in him."
"Stuart says the merchants will be going on East to buy their fall goods. He will inquire among them and let you know."
"Ah yes; I think I heard Mr—— what's his name? Mimicker? Sneerer?"
"Mocker?" suggested Mildred with a smile.
"Yes, yes, Mr. Mocker, I heard him say something about it being his turn this fall to lay in a new supply of goods."
"Ah, I hope it will turn out that you will have him for your escort, Aunt Wealthy," said Mildred, "for I know that he will take the best possible care of you. But do try, auntie, to get his name fixed in your memory."
"That I will," Miss Stanhope answered with a good humored smile; "for he might not fancy the synonyms of it; the meaning not being the most complimentary in the world."
Mr. Keith brought home word that Mr. Mocker would leave for the East in a fortnight and would be happy to take charge of Miss Stanhope.
Aunt Wealthy had always been very dear to these nieces and nephews, but now that they were about to lose her, it seemed to them that they had never realized half her worth.
They lingered near her, they hung upon her words and looks, and when the time for parting came, clung about her with sobs and tears, loading her with caresses, till she was forced to tear herself from their embraces and hurry away.
The stage had drawn up before the gate; she hastened down the garden path, the weeping children running after; Mr. Keith and Mr. Mocker assisted her into the vehicle, the latter took his place by her side, and in another moment she was whirled away out of sight, all drowned in tears, and leaving the others in like condition.
"It seems just like a funeral!" sobbed Ada, "oh, will she never, never come back any more!"
"Perhaps she may, dear," said the mother, wiping away her own tears, "we will try to think so at least, and be cheerful and happy in looking forward to that time. And in the meanwhile we may hope for a letter now and then."
"Oh," cried Rupert, "that reminds me that there's a letter in the office for you now, mother! I saw it there, but had no money with me to pay the postage. If you'll give me the two shillings, I'll run and get it now."
"Do so, my son," Mrs. Keith said, giving him the money. "I'm sorry you forgot it and did not get it out in time for Aunt Wealthy to see it."
Letters were rarities in those days, and the older members of the family awaited Rupert's return from the post-office with a good deal of eagerness, not unmixed with anxiety.
He was not long gone for he too was curious in regard to it, desirous to learn its contents and who was the writer.
"It's post marked Detroit," he said, delivering it to his mother. "I can't think who'd be likely to write to any of us from there.
"Unless it might be Captain or Edward Wells," he added with a quizzical glance at Mildred.
"The hand looks familiar," remarked Mrs. Keith carefully breaking the seal; then opening out the sheet, "Horace Dinsmore!" she exclaimed, "And he is coming to see us! Oh, what a pity that Aunt Wealthy has just missed him!"
"A pity indeed!" echoed her husband. "But he may stay with us some weeks, and perhaps take Lansdale on his way home."
"I hope he won't; won't stay here long, I mean," muttered Rupert in an aside to Mildred. "I didn't like him the other time."
"Nor I, very much, but perhaps he has improved."
"Mother, who is he?" the younger ones were asking.
"My cousin; his mother and mine were sisters."
"Were? Aren't they now?" queried Zillah.
"Yes, dear, but they both went home to heaven many years ago. My mother first—before Aunt Eva married Mr. Dinsmore and went away down south to live.
"But wait till I have read the letter and then you may ask all the questions you wish."
It was not a lengthy epistle. Mrs. Keith glanced over it, then read it aloud. Its tone was cousinly and affectionate.
The writer stated that he had lately graduated from college and was now taking a tour to rest and refresh himself after many months of hard study; that he had arrived in Detroit, would tarry there a week and then journey on into Indiana to visit his relatives in Pleasant Plains.
"This letter has been some time on the way," Mrs. Keith remarked, examining the date, "and really I think he may walk in upon us day after to-morrow."
"Then we'd better be getting ready for him!" exclaimed Mildred, starting up in her energetic way.
"Wait a little. Mother promised to tell us about him," cried the children.
"Yes, and will. There's time enough, Milly."
Mildred resumed her seat; for she, too, wanted to hear all her mother had to tell.
"My mother," Mrs. Keith began, "was two years younger than Aunt Wealthy, who was the daughter of my grandfather by his first wife; therefore only half sister to my mother and Aunt Eva, who were the children of the second.
"Aunt Eva was five years younger than my mother and was still single when mother died; which, as you have all heard, was when I, her only child, was but little more than two years old.
"Cousin Horace, too, was the only child of his mother, and quite a little fellow when she died. I was there, on a visit, at the time and did what I could to comfort him.
"We grew quite fond of each other then and have always been so ever since, though we have lived far apart and met very seldom."
"Has he got a father?" asked Cyril, "and does he live with him?"
"Yes; he has a father, and lives with him when he is at home; but for years past most of his time has been spent at school and college."
"I thought Cousin Horace had brothers and sisters?" Rupert said, inquiringly.
"Yes; his father soon married again and has a large family by the second wife."
"What is Cousin Horace like, mother?" asked Ada.
"Wait until he comes and see for yourself," was the smiling rejoinder.
"How glad you look, mother!" said Mildred, "are you really so much pleased that he is coming?"
"Why, certainly, my child! he is my near kinsman, and, as I have just told you, I am very fond of him; he's like a dear younger brother to me. And particularly welcome just now as his coming will take from the dreadfully lonely feeling Aunt Wealthy's departure has given the house."
"But,