Her adieus were gayly given to one and another, beginning with those least
dear; very very affectionately to Mrs. Travilla, Aunt Wealthy, Rose, and
the little Horace (the sleeping Rosebud had already been softly kissed in
her crib).
Her idolized father only remained; and now all her gayety forsook her, all
her calmness gave way, and clinging about his neck, "Papa, papa, oh papa!"
she cried, with a burst of tears and sobs.
"Holy and pure are the drops that fall,
When the young bride goes from her father's hall;
She goes unto love yet untried and new--
She parts from love which hath still been true."
It was his turn now to comfort her. "Darling daughter," he said, caressing
her with exceeding tenderness, "we do not part for long. Should it please
God to spare our lives, I shall have my precious one in my arms in a few
short weeks. Meantime we can have a little talk on paper every day. Shall
we not?"
"Yes, yes, dear, dear, precious father."
Mr. Travilla stood by with a face full of compassionate tenderness.
Putting one hand into her father's, Elsie turned, gave him the other, and
together they led her to the carriage and placed her in it. There was a
hearty, lingering hand-shaking between the two gentlemen.
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