“Flora, have you forgotten the talk we had about emigration, the morning before our marriage?” was a question rather suddenly put to his young wife, by Lieutenant Lyndsay, as he paused in his walk to and fro the room. The fact is, that he had been pondering over that conversation for the last hour.
It had long been forgotten by his wife; who, seated upon the sofa with a young infant of three years old in her lap, was calmly watching its sleeping face with inexpressible delight. She now left off her maternal studies; and looked up at her husband, with an inquiring glance,—
“Why do you ask, dear John?”
“Are you turned Quaker, Flora, that you cannot give one a direct answer?”
“I have not forgotten it. But we have been so happy ever since, that I have never given it a second thought. What put it into your head just now?”
“That child—and thinking how I could provide for her, in any other way.”
“Dear little pet! She cannot add much to our expenses.” And the mother bent over her sleeping child, and kissed its soft, velvet cheek, with a zest that mothers alone know.
“Not at present. But the little pet will in time grow into a tall girl; and other little pets may be treading upon her footsteps; and they must all be clothed, and fed, and educated.”
Flora, in her overflowing happiness, had dismissed all such cruel realities from her mind.
“Emigration is a terrible word, John. I wish that it could be expunged from our English dictionary.”
“I am afraid, my dear girl, that you are destined to learn a practical illustration of its meaning. Nay, don’t look so despondingly. If you intended to remain in England, you should not have married a poorman.”
“Don’t say that, John, or you will make me miserable. Our marriage made me rich in treasures, which gold could never buy. But seriously, I do not see this urgent necessity for taking such a hazardous step. I know that we are not rich—that our expectations on that score for the future are very limited. We are both the younger children of large families, whose wealth and consequence is now a thing of the past. We have nothing to hope or anticipate from rich relations; but we have enough to be comfortable, and are surrounded with many blessings. Our little girl, whose presence seems to have conjured before you the gaunt image of poverty, has added greatly to our domestic happiness. Yes, little Miss Innocence! you are awake, are you? Come, crow to papa, and drive these ugly thoughts out of his head.”
The good father kissed fondly the young thing seducingly held up to him. But he did not yield to the temptation, or swerve from his purpose, though Flora kissed him, with eyes brimful of tears.
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