The truth was she was weary of the dulness of home now that the shadow of
bereavement was upon it, and the etiquette of mourning forbade her
attendance upon public assemblages of whatever kind, except church, and
did not allow even so much as a formal call upon strangers or
acquaintance. The society of her now old, feeble, and depressed father was
wearisome to her also.

Beside she had long had a hankering after a European tour, and this was
too good an opportunity to let slip. Also it would give her a chance to
see for herself what was the trouble with Virginia, whose letters of late
had been of a very disquieting kind; full of reproaches and vague hints of
unhappiness and disappointment in her new life.

There would probably be a few hours between their arrival in New York and
the sailing of the steamer, in which she could call to see Virginia and
learn with certainty exactly how she was situated.

Mrs. Travilla received the news of her aunt's offer with a gratitude which
it by no means merited, and the younger Elsie, though not fond of her Aunt
Louise's society, felt that her presence might prove a comfort and support
when she and Edward should find themselves strangers in a foreign land.

The mother sought this dear eldest child with loving words of cheer and
counsel whenever she could be spared from the sick-room, and Violet,
Harold, and Herbert hung about her as a treasure soon to be snatched from
them, each eager to render any assistance in his or her power.

The hour of parting came all too soon, and with many tears and embraces
the young travellers were sent on their way.