“She’s an awkward child, always tumbling about,” returned Enna reddening.
“Especially since she wears those fashionable boots with the high narrow heels,” he remarked. “Had she them on when she fell?”
Enna reluctantly admitted that such was the fact.
“I’ll send them into town to-day, with orders that full half the heel shall be taken off,” he said with angry decision.
a goodly scene—
Yon river, like a silvery snake, lays out
His coil i’ the sunshine lovingly.”
The family at Ion presently fell into the old routine of study, work and play, Elsie resuming the duties of governess; but as the heated term drew on, she and the little ones, especially the babe, began to droop.
“You must go north for the summer,” said Dr. Barton, “start as soon as possible and don’t return till October.”
“Would you recommend the seashore?” asked Mr. Travilla.
“H’m! that might answer very well, but mountain air would, I think, be better.”
“Oh then, mamma!” cried Vi, who was present and had been an eager but hitherto silent listener, “won’t you accept Aunt Lucy’s invitation?”
“Perhaps, daughter,” Elsie said smiling indulgently into the bright little face, “but we will take time to consider what will be best.”
“Where is that?” asked the doctor, “Lucy Ross, I suppose, but I’ve forgotten where they live.”
“On the banks of the Hudson a few miles south of Newburgh. The Crags they call their place, and a beautiful one it is. ’Twas only yesterday I received a letter from Lucy, urging us to come and spend the summer with her.”
“I should say go by all means,” said the doctor, taking leave.
There were reasons for hesitation on the part of the careful parents of which the physician knew nothing. The young Rosses, all unused to control, were a willful set not likely to exert a beneficial influence over other children; that was the demur.
However the final decision was in favor of the visit, and a few days later they set out upon their journey; Mr. Horace Dinsmore taking charge of them, as business made it inconvenient for Mr. Travilla to leave just at that time.
From New York they passed up the Hudson in a steamboat; the carriage from the Crags was found in waiting at the landing, and a short drive brought them to the house, which stood high up above the river, in the midst of magnificent mountain scenery.
The Ion children, taught from early infancy to notice the beauties of nature, were in ecstasies of delight, exclaiming anew at every turn in the road, calling each other’s, mamma’s or grandpa’s attention to the sparkling river, the changing shadows on the mountainsides, here a beetling crag, there a waterfall or secluded glen. Having rested the previous night, sleeping soundly at a hotel, they were not wearied with travel but seemed fresher now than when they left their home.