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Page 4
After the hubbub of talk that followed, it was a very subdued and quiet
pair of girls who kissed father and mother good night and went upstairs
to the room in which they had slept ever since their childhood. The
certain nearness of the first home-breaking, of the first going away
from their dear ones, and a new conception of the tenderness of the
parents, who were sacrificing so much for them, had taken such
possession of their hearts that they were too full for words. For
Barbara and Bettina were dear, thoughtful daughters and sisters, who had
early learned to aid in bearing the family burdens, and whose closest,
strongest affections were bound about the home and its dear ones.
Such busy days followed! Such earnest conferences between Mrs. Burnett
and Mrs. Douglas, who was an old traveller, and knew all the ins and
outs of her dear doctor's household!
It was finally decided that the dark blue serge gowns that had been worn
during the last spring and on cold summer days with the warm spring
jackets, would be just the thing for the girls on the steamship; that
the pretty brown cloth suits which were even then in the dressmaker's
hands could be worn almost constantly after reaching Italy for
out-of-door life; while the simple evening gowns that had done duty at
schoolgirl receptions would answer finely for at-home evenings. So that
only two or three extra pairs of boots (for nothing abroad can take the
place of American boots and shoes), some silk waists, so convenient for
easy change of costume, and a little addition to the dainty
underclothing were all that was absolutely needed.
Busy fingers soon accomplished everything necessary, and in a few
swiftly passing days the trunks were packed, the tearful good-bys
spoken, and the little party was on its way to New York, to sail thence
for Genoa on the _Kaiser Wilhelm II._ of the North German Lloyd line of
steamships.
Dr. Burnett had managed to accompany them thus far, and now, as the
great ship is slowly leaving the wharf, and Mrs. Douglas, Malcom,
Margery, Barbara, and Bettina are clustered together on her deck, waving
again and again their good-bys, and straining their eyes still to
recognize the dear familiar form and face among the crowd that presses
forward on the receding pier, we will take time for a full introduction
of the chief personages of our story.
Mrs. Douglas, who stands between her children, Malcom's arm thrown
half-protectingly about her shoulders, was, or rather is (for our tale
is of recent date and its characters are yet living), a rare woman.
Slender and graceful, clothed in widow's dress, her soft gray hair
framing a still fair and youthful face, she looks a typical American
woman of refinement and culture. And she is all this, and more; for did
she not possess a strong Christian character, wise judgment, and a warm
motherly heart, and were she not ever eager to gain that which is
noblest and best both for herself and her children from every experience
of life, careful Dr. and Mrs. Burnett would never have intrusted their
daughters to her.
Her husband had been a young Scotchman, well-born, finely educated, and
possessed of ample means, whom she had met when a girl travelling abroad
with her parents, and her brief wedded life had been spent in beautiful
Edinburgh, her husband's native city. Very soon after Margery's birth
came the terrible grief of her husband's death, and lonely Elizabeth
Douglas came across the sea, bringing her two fatherless children to
make a home for herself and them among her girlhood friends.
Malcom, a well-developed, manly young fellow, has just graduated from
the Boston Latin School. As he stands beside his mother we see the
military drill he has undergone in his fine carriage, straight
shoulders, and erect head. He has the Scotch complexion, an abundance of
fair hair, and frank, steady eyes that win him the instant trust and
friendship of all who look into them. Though full of a boy's enthusiasm
and fun, yet he seems older than he is, as is usually the case with boys
left fatherless who early feel a certain manly responsibility for the
mother and sisters.
Proud and fond indeed is Malcom Douglas of his mother and "little
Madge," as he calls her, who, petite and slender, with sunny, flowing
curls, the sweetest of blue eyes, and a pure, childlike face, stands,
with parted lips, flushed with animation, by her mother's side. Margery
is, as she looks, gentle and lovable. Not yet has she ever known the
weight of the slightest burden of care, but has been as free and happy
as the birds, as she has lived in her beautiful home with her mother and
brother.
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