The Project Gutenberg eBook ofLeila at HomeThis ebook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this ebook or online atwww.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this eBook.Title: Leila at HomeAuthor: Ann Fraser TytlerIllustrator: John William OrrRelease date: June 15, 2015 [eBook #49220]Most recently updated: October 24, 2024Language: EnglishCredits: Produced by Juliet Sutherland, Chuck Greif and the OnlineDistributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LEILA AT HOME ***
This ebook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this ebook or online atwww.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this eBook.
Title: Leila at HomeAuthor: Ann Fraser TytlerIllustrator: John William OrrRelease date: June 15, 2015 [eBook #49220]Most recently updated: October 24, 2024Language: EnglishCredits: Produced by Juliet Sutherland, Chuck Greif and the OnlineDistributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net
Title: Leila at Home
Author: Ann Fraser TytlerIllustrator: John William Orr
Author: Ann Fraser Tytler
Illustrator: John William Orr
Release date: June 15, 2015 [eBook #49220]Most recently updated: October 24, 2024
Language: English
Credits: Produced by Juliet Sutherland, Chuck Greif and the OnlineDistributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net
*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LEILA AT HOME ***
LEILA AT HOME.
By the Same Author.LEILA;OR, THE ISLAND. ByAnn Fraser Tytler.LEILA IN ENGLAND. A continuation ofLeila; or, The Island.LEILA AT HOME. A continuation ofLeila in England.Also, lately Published.ARBELL. A tale for young people. ByJane Winnard Hooper.THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. ByCatharine Parr Traill. Edited byAgnes Strickland.
By the Same Author.LEILA;OR, THE ISLAND. ByAnn Fraser Tytler.LEILA IN ENGLAND. A continuation ofLeila; or, The Island.LEILA AT HOME. A continuation ofLeila in England.Also, lately Published.ARBELL. A tale for young people. ByJane Winnard Hooper.THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. ByCatharine Parr Traill. Edited byAgnes Strickland.
By the Same Author.
LEILA;OR, THE ISLAND. ByAnn Fraser Tytler.
LEILA IN ENGLAND. A continuation ofLeila; or, The Island.
LEILA AT HOME. A continuation ofLeila in England.
Also, lately Published.
ARBELL. A tale for young people. ByJane Winnard Hooper.
THE CANADIAN CRUSOES. ByCatharine Parr Traill. Edited byAgnes Strickland.
LEILA AT HOME Page 38.LEILA AT HOMEPage 38.
LEILA AT HOME. New York:—C. S. Francis & Co.
A CONTINUATION OFLeila in England.BYANN FRASER TYTLER,AUTHOR OF “MARY AND FLORENCE; OR, GRAVE AND GAY,” ETC.WITH ENGRAVINGS BY J. W. ORR, FROM ORIGINAL DESIGNS.colophonNew York:S. FRANCIS & CO., 252 BROADWAY.BOSTON:—CROSBY, NICHOLS & CO.M.DCCC.LIII.Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1853,By C. S. Francis & Co.,In the Clerk’s Office of the District Court of the United States for the Southern Districtof New York.
IT was the intention of the writer of the following pages to have bid a last farewell to Leila, but some of her young readers have said “No;” and she feels too grateful for the kindness they have shown her, not to make the attempt to meet their wishes. Circumstances have so long prevented her fulfilling this intention, that it may be necessary to remind them that they took leave of Leila when she had just set off for Woodlands, (near Richmond,) a property Mr. Howard had purchased near the residence of her uncle, Mr. Stanley; that Leila was in all the joy of her cousin, Selina Stanley, having recovered her speech; that Selina’s sister, Matilda, was continuing to make many good resolutions, and too often to break them again; and that their brother, little Alfred, was little Alfred still, and not over wise.
THE wooded banks of Richmond were in all the soft green of early spring, when they were first seen by Leila. A few months had passed; the trees were now half stripped of their leaves, and the autumn tints were fast fading into sombre gray as she a second time caught sight of its wooded heights; but how different were now her feelings, how much more beautiful did the whole scene appear to her with Selina by her side! Selina was spring, summer, sunshine, and all to Leila, and she had not a sigh to give to the falling leaves or the moaning wind.
As the carriage drew up before the same low, picturesque-looking house, which she had before visited, Matilda and Alfred (who with their papa and mamma had preceded them but a few minutes) stood holding the house-door open,ready to give them welcome. Little Alfred bustled out to assist in letting down the steps, and Matilda, in her eagerness to help them to alight, had well nigh brought them to the ground.
“Softly, softly,” Mr. Howard exclaimed, as he endeavoured to catch hold of Leila’s frock; but Matilda had succeeded in extricating both the little girls from the carriage.
“Oh, what a day of joy!” she cried; “Cousin Leila still to be with us for a whole month, and Selina as able to talk to her now as I am; Selina, do you remember when you went away?”
Selina did remember: she coloured, her eyes filled with tears, and throwing her arms first round her sister’s neck, and then round Leila’s, she darted from their side.
“Why does she do that? where has she gone?” Leila anxiously inquired.
“I think I know,” Matilda answered; and pointing to a door on the opposite side of the passage, she flew back to the carriage to assist in getting out the parcels.
Leila crossed the passage, and softly opened the door; Selina was on her knees by the side of her little bed; she timidly advanced, and lifting the white muslin curtain which partly concealed Selina’s slight figure, she knelt by her side. As the two little girls rose from their knees, theireyes met eyes so full of gratitude to heaven, as almost made Selina’s half-whispered explanation, “Leila, I could not wait till night, unnecessary;” “and now,” she continued, “I must go to dear mamma.”
When Selina returned soon after, she found Leila and Matilda, assisted by Amy, arranging the smaller parcels, and carrying them to the different rooms. Matilda looked eagerly in Selina’s eyes.
“I see what you have been doing,” she said, reproachfully: “but I think it is I that should cry: when we were here before, I had to speak both for you and myself. Oh, it was so nice; no, no, Selina, I don’t mean that, I don’t indeed; I am so glad you can speak, oh, so very glad; I said it only to make you laugh, and now I am near crying myself, but I won’t; this is not a day to weep, the very happiest day of all our lives. Come, let us go and visit the school-room; not to say lessons, you know, but just to enjoy ourselves.”
“Yes, that will be an excellent plan,” Leila answered; “and perhaps in the bread-basket we shall still find the head of the doll, which would have been so pretty a doll for my Sally, if it had not been so hardly dealt with.”
Matilda laughed; “How funny you are,” she said, turning to Leila, and passing her armround her waist; “you have put away my sorrow in a minute.”
The three little girls proceeded to the school-room.
“How very nice it looks!” Leila exclaimed; “how bright, how cheerful-looking; so different from what it was before.”
“And were you very melancholy when you were here before, and did not find us?” Matilda inquired.
“Oh, so melancholy when I saw the flowerpots,” Leila answered; “and I cried so when I saw the paper with ‘Custom commonly makes things easy.’ Yes, ‘Custom commonly’ was the worst of all.”
“But that is all over now,” Matilda observed; “so we need not speak about it, for now we are all three as happy as can be; don’t you think so, Selina?”
“Indeed I do, Matilda; but it is such a deep joy I cannot find words to utter it; it does not make me merry, but do not think it is because I am sad. If you are happy and think it a joyful day, what must it be to me? I had given up all hope of ever being able to speak again; I was telling Leila so that very day, and making her promise not to pray for it any more. Then so many changes have come upon me. When I saw Leila on the ground, when I thought herdead,—oh, I must not think of it; and when she opened her eyes again, and said, ‘Who spoke? what has happened?’ and when she knew God had opened my lips, what a moment that was! Leila’s joy, and my joy too, and to be able to tell her how much I loved her. You do not know how I used to struggle before, and what it was for me not to be able to speak.”
“Indeed I do know very well,” Matilda answered; “for when mamma often says to me, ‘Matilda, I must beg you to be silent, you distract my head,’ I am more anxious to speak than ever; and so vexed, I would rather she had given me a good slap.”
“A goodslap!” Leila exclaimed. “Oh, Matilda, if my papa were ever to slap me, I would—” she covered her face with her hands and shuddered.
“What would you do?” Matilda anxiously inquired, as she pulled down Leila’s hands, and tried to get a sight of her face.
“I would die,” Leila answered, in a voice so low that the words were scarcely audible.
But Matilda caught them. “Oh dear,” she cried, “how I have shocked you; what a shocked face you have; well, I am always saying something wrong, and I dare say I shall never be better; for these kind of things come out before I know what I am saying. Selina, do you thinkit was so very wrong, and was Leila right to say she would——? You know what I mean. You always tell me we should take trials patiently.”
Selina coloured. “I think you were both a little wrong,” she said, timidly. “You were wrong to talk in that way of dear mamma, who is always so patient and gentle with you; and very wrong to say you would never be better, when you know God will give you strength if you pray for it with all your heart; but not if you say wandering prayers, and do not really wish it;” and she looked anxiously at Matilda.
“And cousin Leila?” Matilda inquired.
Selina proceeded. “Yes; Leila I thought was a little wrong to express herself so strongly; you know Uncle Howard always says she must try to command her feelings more,—you are not angry with me, Leila, for saying this?”
“Angry? Oh! no, no. I love you even more when you tell me I have not done right; for I feel that you are so true, and you say it so gently, just as my papa does.”
“Well to be sure!” Matilda said; “toliketo be told that one is not good, I can never get up to that; I don’t like at all to be told I am not good; I would rather say it of myself than that others should say it; indeed, it comforts me sometimes to say it all out. Selina, do youknow that at this very moment I am not good?”
“Yes, I do know,—you were glad when I said Leila had been wrong too.”
“And is that all?” Matilda inquired.
“No, not quite all; you were disappointed when you found it was so small a fault.”
“Oh, Selina! it is too bad in you to say that; you are glad when you find people are good, and like yourself, and I cannot help being rather glad also, when I find people a little like myself, though I am not good; but you are getting into a way of seeing me through and through; you must not do that, or you will see a great many things to frighten you; at least, please don’t begin to-day, when we were to have been so merry; but do you know what I think is going to happen; something that won’t make us merry at all,—and yet I shall be so curious to see her.”
“Seewhom?” both the others exclaimed; “what do you mean, Matilda?”
“I mean that we are going to get a governess; that is, that I think, perhaps, we are to get one.”
“And why do you think so?” Selina asked.
“Because when I went into the drawing-room with one of the parcels, (mamma’s blotting-book, you know,) I heard Uncle Howard say, ‘Yes, Icertainly do see the advantage of having a governess;but——’ and then I put down the parcel very slowly, that I might hear more; but mamma said, ‘Matilda, don’t linger in the room, for we are engaged at present, and wish to be alone.’ So, you know, I was obliged to be off very quick; do you think you will like it Selina?—to be sure, it won’t be so bad for you, but it will be bad enough for poor me, with all my scrapes; and yet I should like to see what sort of a face she has got, though I am quite sure I shall not like it.”
“But perhaps the governess is forme,” Leila said, in a sorrowful tone; then added, “and I shall never be alone with my papa any more.”
“No, no,” Matilda eagerly exclaimed; “don’t vex yourself, Leila. Don’t put on that sorrowful face; I am sure the governess is for us; for once before I heard mamma say something about it to papa,—it was one day when she said I was unmanageable, and you know you are never unmanageable.”
“If you mean that I never am very bad, you are mistaken; you don’t know all the things I do sometimes, and wish to do.”
“Well, well,” Matilda answered, “don’t tell me about them, for I don’t want to hear; it is too bad that to-day, when we have no lessons, and are so happy to be home again, we do nothingbut speak about faults, and make each other melancholy. See, the sun is out—it is quite fair now—let us go into the garden and have a nice race.”
Leila’s face brightened. “It will be delightful,” she said, as they all three ran off together.
MATILDA’S faults and Leila’s fears seemed alike forgotten. They talked, and laughed, and ran races, till fatigue at last made a quieter mode of amusement desirable, even to Matilda. The arbour, which was in a sheltered spot at one end of the garden, was still almost in summer beauty,—the china-roses and many of the autumn flowers were yet in rich luxuriance, and the bright beams of the sun brought back the feeling of summer with all its gladness. As they seated themselves in the arbour, a robin flew down from a neighbouring tree, and timidly advanced within the entrance, then paused and seemed to fix its clear bright eye on Leila; she softly raised her hand, and pointed to her lips to enjoin silence; but Matilda made a sudden movement, and the next moment the robin was gone. Leila sighed.
“Are you sorry I frightened it away?” Matilda inquired.
“No,” Leila answered, cheerfully; “it wasnot that; you know the robin did not know us, it would have flown away the moment any of us had moved, and we could not have sat all day quite still; so never mind, Matilda, only it made me think——” she stopped and coloured.
“What did it make you think of? Do tell me.”
“It made me think that in the island the birds never were afraid of me; they never flew away, at least a great many of them did not; they knew me quite well there.”
“And you are wishing to be back to the island,” Matilda exclaimed, reproachfully, “because the birds know you there; and you would leave Selina and me, who know you, I am sure, far better than the birds, and love you better too; I am sure I wish that—thatisland——”
Selina placed her hands before Matilda’s mouth. “Hush, hush, Matilda, don’t say it. You are working yourself up to be angry; you will be sorry afterwards; indeed, you will be sorry now;” and she pointed to Leila, who stood covering her face with her hands, while the tears trickled down between her fingers.
Matilda flew to her; she tried to remove her hands, and kissed her repeatedly. “There, you see, I am off again, and worse than ever. Oh, this badness! will it never leave me? and,Cousin Leila, perhaps you will begin to hate me now!”
Leila removed her hands from her face, and hastily brushed away her tears; then, throwing her arms round Matilda’s neck, she said,—“Oh, Matilda! never, never say that again, for I love you very much.”
“You are so kind and good,” Matilda was beginning to say.
Leila stopped her. “No, Matilda, no; I am not good. I was not crying now because I was sorry about the island, but because I was angry at you for speaking of it in that way,—and now let me tell you all that is in my heart. I am happy here, quite, quite happy; I like living in the world exceedingly, I think the world is delightful, and the trials that papa spoke about I think are not coming to me, at least, not the great ones; for you know it is a little trial when you are angry with me, and I should bear it better, I know; but it is about the island I wished to speak,—I do not wish to go back to it to live. No, I could not leave—” she fixed her eyes fondly on Selina,—“nor you either, Matilda,” she added; “I could not leave you, I do love you very much, though sometimes you make me angry; but I love the island very much also. God placed me there when he snatched me from the dashing waves. Itwas my home, my happy home; I had my papa all to myself then; he used to call me his little friend, and he was such a friend to me, always keeping me right. You know I was alone there with my papa, and with God; and it was so much easier to be good there. I thought more of God in the island, for every thing seemed so full of his love, and all so beautiful. The island was God’s garden, the flowers always springing, so bright and beautiful, the trees so green, and nobody to take care of them but God; the birds always singing to Him, the fountain making that sweet sound, and the everlasting hills.—Oh! Matilda, it was comforting to live amongst God’s works, every thing to make me love Him, and nothing to make me forget; here I am happy, too happy sometimes, for it is a kind of happiness which makes me forget, and then afterwards comes the sorrow.”
“And what do you do then?” Matilda anxiously inquired.
“I often try to put it off, and I dash about, and try to be merry; but I am not merry; I get more sorrowful; then I remember that it is conscience that is speaking to me, and that papa saysconscienceis the voice of God, and if I do not listen,Hewill turn away from me; then I get frightened as well as sorrowful, and I go away by myself, sometimes into my room, sometimesinto the garden, and there I think”—— She hesitated, then continued,—“I think of Jesus Christ, and of all he did for us, and how he loved little children, and took them in his arms, and blessed them: and I pray to Him in my heart to love me and to bless me also. Do you remember how he raised the little daughter of twelve years old from the dead? I always think how good she must have been after that, and how she must have loved Jesus Christ, and yet it should be the same with us; He keeps us alive every moment, and preserves us from every danger, and I forget Him often, though twice he has saved my life, in the stormy sea, you know, and from the frightful——” She stopped and shuddered.
“Don’t, don’t think of it,” Matilda exclaimed; “don’t work yourself up in that way, Leila.”
“But it does me good, Matilda, to think of it, and beside it was such a day of happiness also,”—and she looked fondly at Selina.
“Yes, yes, I know what you mean,” Matilda said, hastily; “and I am sure it was a day of happiness to me too; but we won’t think any more about it now, for I do tire a little if you speak too much about goodness; but what with you being so good, and Selina being so good, I surely shall get better in time; indeed, I am alittle better already, I assure you I am—I am almost always sorry now when I do wrong.”
Selina looked up and smiled. “Yes, indeed, you are better, Matilda. I think there has been a great improvement in you since Leila came to stay with us, and now I hope that you will not take to Lydia Mildmay again so much, or allow her to have such influence over you as she used to have,—she did you no good.”
“Why do you always say that?” Matilda exclaimed, colouring violently; “I do wish, Selina, you would just tell me at once why you don’t like Lydia. I am sure it is very ungrateful in you, and I think that you need not be so sorry that she should praise me sometimes, she praises you also a great deal.”
“Yes,” Selina answered, “she does; but I don’t like her praise, and I would rather she did not.”
“And why do you not like her praise?”
“Because I cannot help thinking it is not sincere.”
“Now, Selina, that is too bad in you. Mamma often says, ‘Give me a proof of it, Matilda;’ so I say to you, give me a proof of it, Selina.”
“No, I cannot give you a proof of it now; some other time we will talk of it again. I wish to go to mamma now—I dare say I can help her to arrange something—you know theremust be a great deal to arrange on our first coming home.”
“And let me go with you also,” Leila eagerly said; “for I dare say I could do some good. When we arrived in the cave, I remember I assisted papa to arrange a good deal. I unpacked the canteen, and put out all the cups and saucers, and helped nurse to arrange the pans, and when papa put up the shelves, I put the clothes upon them, and his boots and shoes all in a row; but in this country there is not so much to be done; I sometimes think it is stupid to have so many people making places for every thing, I used to like so much making plans and contrivances.”
“Well,” Matilda said, “if you are both going to be such busy bees, I will go to Alfred for a little; I see him down the middle walk, and we can romp together; for you know this is to be a holiday, mamma said so; so I need not work, unless I like it myself.” She was off in a moment.
“Why,” inquired Leila, as they entered the house together, “would you not give Matilda a proof of why you did not like Lydia?”
“Better not,” Selina answered; “it does not do with Matilda to talk to her too much on subjects she does not like; if I had gone on, in a few minutes more she would have been angry.Did you not observe how her colour was rising?”
“Yes, I did; and I am never very sure when I am talking to Matilda how she is to take it; she gets red very often,—but I need not wonder at that, for it is just the same with me—I am sure to get red very often too.”
“Yes,” Selina answered, “you do; you colour very often, but then it is not with anger.”
“You don’t know, Selina; you think that because you love me; but very often it is with anger,—not so much when papa tells me I am wrong, for he speaks so gently to me, and always seems so sorry himself, that it makes me very grieved, and I always wish to be better, and say to myself, that I will try never to displease him again; but it is quite another thing with Nurse. I often feel my cheeks get as hot as fire when she scolds me; but it is with anger then; for she sometimes teases the very life out of me. Not often though, for I know she loves me; but then she is always saying, ‘Oh! Miss Leila, you are a heartbreak to me; if you would but sit to your work like a rational being,—you are not to trust to Amy mending your things,—you know your papa says you are not. You are far too much taken up with your music and your histories; and what sort of a pocket-hole is that for a young lady to have?’ I am laughing now,Selina, while I am telling it to you; but though sometimes I can bear it pretty well, and try to please her by beginning to mend my pocket-hole as quick as possible, at other times I get quite into a passion, and can’t bear to put in a single stitch; but we must make haste now, or every thing will be put in order, and we shall have no work to do. I like that kind of work very much, don’t you, Selina?”
MATILDA’S idea, that their having a governess was a point determined on, proved more correct than her hasty conclusions generally did. Mr. Howard had been for some time aware that the mode of life which he must pursue in England would prevent him giving that undivided attention to Leila which his island home had afforded him, and which every day was becoming more necessary in the formation of her inquiring mind and impetuous character. He felt that Nurse, with all her fond affection, in her attempts to rule, was only fostering in his child a spirit of opposition and self-will; and that Leila was beginning to think in many things she knew better than Nurse, and that she did right to reject counsel, which, though always well intended, was often not judiciously given. Though resolved not to yield to the feeling, he had been too long accustomed to the exclusive society of his child, not to be aware that there would be many occasions in which the presenceof a third person would prove irksome to him, and it was therefore with real gratitude that he listened to Mrs. Stanley’s proposal, that the intended governess should reside under their roof, yet still have the joint charge of the cousins. “The distance was so short,” she observed, “not two miles, it would only be healthful exercise for Leila to walk when the day was fine, and in bad weather she could easily be sent to them in the carriage. She should take care that Leila was always at home to dine with her papa when he was alone, and to read and sing to him in the evenings, as she had been accustomed to do.”
When Mr. Howard sent for Leila next day to communicate this intelligence, she entered his room with an unusually grave expression; the dreaded idea of a governess had been haunting her imagination the whole morning, and gaining strength every minute. She advanced slowly, and taking her papa’s hand in hers, she looked up anxiously into his eyes:—“Is it a governess, papa?” she said, “is it? Oh, tell me quick.”
“My dear child,” Mr. Howard answered, as he stooped down and kissed her forehead, “my dear, dear child, what is all this? Why do you look at me in this piteous manner? Indeed you must not agitate yourself in this way; you must not let your imagination get the better ofyou; it certainly was on this subject I wished to talk to you; but is the idea of a governess so very frightful to you?”
“No, papa; perhaps she is not frightful, but you know I never saw one; perhaps she is like other ladies, but then you know she will be always there, always sticking to me; Matilda said something which made me know that; alwayssticking, papa; and then I shall never be alone with you. No more nice chats with your little friend.” Her voice failed, she could not continue.
Mr. Howard looked at her anxiously; “Leila, my dear child, you distress me; if you allow yourself to get into this way of anticipating imaginary evils, you will enervate your mind, and unfit yourself to bear as you ought to do the real trials of life; remember who says, ‘Sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof.’ Now listen to me; I can see that Matilda has made you aware that you are to have a governess, and all the morning you have probably been working yourself up with the idea of suffering from what I trust may prove the greatest blessing to you. I cannot now devote my mornings to you as I did in the island; I must frequently be absent, and you are now of an age to require superior instruction to that of your faithful and affectionate nurse; but you will still be my littlefriend; in the evenings you will sing and read to me as you used to do, and we shall always dine together.”
Leila’s face brightened. “O, what a comfort!” she exclaimed: then added, “but I don’t know that I shall be quite comfortable. My governess won’t like dining by herself; she will be melancholy.”
“Now, dear child, you are again running on before the point, though I am glad that now it is that you are anxious for your governess’ comfort: but she is not to be exclusively your governess, Leila, and she is not to reside at Woodlands. Your aunt has most kindly proposed that you should spend the mornings with your cousins, and be educated with them. We are to breakfast together early as we used to do; when fine, you are to walk there immediately after breakfast, or be sent in the carriage when the weather is bad; and by five o’clock you are to be home to dine with your papa. I give you a general invitation to dinner, Miss Leila Howard, and pray give me a favourable answer.”
“Papa, papa, how delightful you are to me,” Leila exclaimed; “all my fears, all my sorrows; where are they? You are like the sun to me, papa; the sun chasing away the clouds, and now there is nothing but the blue sky and my beautiful governess.”
Mr. Howard smiled; “And who told you she was to be beautiful?” he inquired.
“Nobody, papa; but I think she will be, and I am sure I shall like her so much.”
“I hope indeed that you will like her, my love; for if your aunt succeeds in the application she is about to make, your governess is likely to prove a very estimable person; but I don’t suppose she ever was beautiful, and she can’t be very young now.”
Leila’s countenance fell. “As old as the hills, I reckon,” she ejaculated, in a very low voice.
But her papa caught the words: “ ‘As old as the hills, Ireckon,’ ” he repeated; “Leila, from whom have you caught up that phrase?”
“From Peggy Dobie,” she replied.
“From Peggy Dobie; but, my love, have I not told you that I do not wish you to acquire Peggy Dobie’s mode of expressing yourself? I shall regret my promise of allowing Peggy to remove to Woodlands, if you are to adopt her phrases, and try to imitate her mode of speaking.”
“But, papa, I promise you I will not, and I dare say our governess would not like me to speak in that way either. I hope she will come to us very soon; how soon do you think, papa? in a few days?—our governess, I mean. I know Peggy Dobie cannot be here so soon, or my petseither: how delightful it will be when they all arrive, what a world of happiness it will be then!”
“My dear Leila, I have already told you that I hope this lady, if we succeed in engaging her, may prove a real blessing and advantage to you; but you must not allow your imagination to run away with you in this way, or suppose that you are immediately to find her in every way delightful; she is a person who has experienced severe trials; her husband lost a large fortune by the failure of a bank with which he was connected; he died soon after, leaving her and one little girl totally unprovided for. Her sister has taken this little girl to be educated with her own children, and Mrs. Roberts has for some time past been looking out for a situation as governess. Your aunt has a high idea of her principles, and was much struck by the truly Christian way in which she has borne up under her misfortunes; and having resided several years abroad, she speaks both French and Italian with facility, and is besides an excellent musician. All this makes her a most desirable person, but the sorrows she has gone through may probably make her graver than you may at first think agreeable; and you must remember, besides, that a governess has an arduous task to perform, and many difficulties to combat.”
“What difficulties, papa?”
“The difficulties, my love, of having three little girls to correct, to control, and to instruct.”
Leila repeated the wordcorrect.
“Yes, my love,” Mr. Howard continued, “Mrs. Roberts would be unworthy of our confidence, and neglectful of her duty, if she did not correct your faults.”
“But, papa, she would only have two to correct: Selina is quite perfect; don’t you think so, papa?”
“No, my love; I know no one in this world who is perfect, and Selina, though several years older than you are, is still very young, and requires much care and instruction to form her character; but she has fewer faults than any other little girl I know—she is indeed singularly admirable; Mrs. Roberts, I have no doubt, will think herself very fortunate to have such a pupil.”
“And what will she think about me, papa?” she anxiously inquired.
“Why, she will probably think that she has got rather an impetuous little woman to manage, one who often allows her imagination to get the better of her.” But seeing Leila’s downcast face, he added,—“yet I feel sure also that she will not be long of loving my little girl, though she is notperfect; and now Leila,” he continued,“have you any idea of what is to be done to-day?”
“No, papa, I have no idea. Are we to begin our lessons again? Oh, no! I see you have a plan—I see it in your face. Do tell me: I am sure you have something pleasant to tell.”
“Yes,” Mr. Howard answered, “I think you will like the arrangement for this forenoon. I have just been proposing to your aunt that we should visit Woodlands, that you should see your future home, my child; and we have settled that you young folks are to walk there with Nurse and Amy, and I have ordered the open carriage to drive your uncle and aunt; we shall probably be there first to receive you.”
“Papa, how delightful! May I run and tell Selina and Matilda the good news? and Alfred, may he go too?”
“Certainly, my love.”
“Well then, I am off—how delightful to have so much to tell; and I may speak about our governess also, papa, may I not?”
“Yes, my love, you may; but your aunt has probably by this time mentioned the subject to your cousins; I know she intended doing so this morning.”
WHEN Leila entered the school-room Selina was reading, but Matilda stood gazing out at the window with rather a disturbed expression of countenance. “Well, Cousin Leila,” she said, “we have news for you, and not very good news either. Now all the day long it will be,—‘Hold up your head, Miss Leila,’ ‘Why do you walk in that awkward way, Miss Matilda?’ ‘How troublesome you are; I wish you would take example by your elder sister—one awkward trick after another—I really must complain of you to Mrs. Stanley.’ Yes, Selina, you need not shake your head at me and look so grave; Leila will look grave also when she knows the truth. Yes, Leila, I was quite right, it is all settled, we are to have a governess; so no more pleasant days for us. Botheration, botheration.”
Leila had not been able to resist laughing at first; but she checked herself, and remained silent.
Selina spoke. “Oh, Matilda! how can you speak in this way, and after all mamma has been just saying? and you seemed to feel it so.”
“Yes, I know I am wrong; and when mamma was speaking to me I felt very sorry, and I resolved I would try to please this Mrs. Roberts, or rather mamma, for I would rather please mamma than any one in the whole world; but, Leila, you looked when you came in as if you had something joyful to say; if you have, please to say it, for we need good news very much to-day.”
But no sooner had Leila communicated the pleasant intelligence of the proposed visit to Woodlands, than all traces of sorrow were banished from Matilda’s face; she was in ecstasies, and, flying across the room, she dashed the book from Selina’s hands, and throwing her arms round her neck, she exclaimed,—“Now no more reading to-day, if you please,Mrs. Demure; this is what I call the right kind of a holiday—how merry we shall be! Well, I do think Uncle Howard makes most delightful plans; how do you manage, Leila, to get him to do so many nice things?”
“I don’t manage,” Leila answered; “he is always thinking of doing kind things to me and every body, and he has told me all about our governess, and made me like having one morethan I did at first; I will tell you about it as we go along, for we are to walk, you know, and we must make haste and get ready, that papa and uncle and aunt may not be there long before us.”
The walk proved every way delightful. The sky so brightly blue, the sunshine splendid, and the woods, now tinted with the glowing hues of autumn, gave additional beauty to the scene. Here and there a solitary unprotected tree, standing out from the others, might have given warning to more contemplative minds that winter and its storms were approaching; but there was no winter in their young hearts—all was fresh, gay, and green, and withered leaves brought to them no memory of blighted hopes, and of a world of many sorrows.
The distance could not be two miles, they all agreed, though Matilda and Alfred did their best to lengthen it, by continuing, during every few yards of their progress, to run up a little bank by the side of the road and down again, assuring the others that it was by far the quickest way of getting on, but Leila greatly preferred walking quietly straight forward with Selina; it was always a particular pleasure to her to have Selina entirely to herself. She now related to her all her papa had told her of Mrs. Roberts, and many were the good resolutionsmade by both, that they would do all they could to make her situation pleasant to her. As they came in sight of a pretty-looking house, standing in a small garden, Leila stopped.
“Look, Selina,” she said, “I think that must be Woodlands, had we not better ask some one if it is?”
A countryman came up to them at that moment, walking very quickly, and was about to pass on before. Leila ran forward.
“Pray do stop,” she said, “if you are not very busy, and tell us if that is Woodlands?”
The man turned back and looked at her with astonishment.
“Dear heart, young lady, but you must be a stranger in these parts—that Woodlands,that? It would be but a humble post indeed to open the park gates to them good people, a very decent family too, I mean to say nothing disrespectful, but Woodlands, bless your heart, Woodlands is one of theprincipalesthouses in the whole countryside. Do you see that beautiful great house standing on the height there, with the broad terrace and the pleasure-grounds sloping down to the river, and them grand woods on each side, shutting out the summer’s sun and the winter’s blasts?—that’sWoodlands, and it’s not every day you will see its like; but you are pleasant-looking young ladies to mymind, and if you have a fancy to see Woodlands, though it’s not to every one I would say as much, I have no objections to unlock the gates for you, for once and away.”
“And are the gates always locked?” Leila timidly inquired; then added, “papa told us to go there.”
“No, no, my young lady; it’s not papas or mammas either that can give that permission. As long as my head’s above ground, there shall no promiscuous company enter there; but never vex your sweet heart,” he continued, more mildly, (observing Leila’s expression of blank dismay,) “never vex your heart; you shall see the place for all that;” then added with a sigh, “but Woodlands has gotten a new master, one Squire Howard, they tell me—a fine man from the Indies. Heaven send he may be a kind one; but they tell queer stories about him too. It was I that showed the two gentlemen that came to settle about it all over the place, and they said something of his having lived in a desert island, a Robinson Crusoe sort of an affair that I could not make out at all; but if we are to have a master from a desert island, I hope he will keep more company about him than his man Friday, or Woodlands will be a changed place.”
“My papa had no man Friday with him inthe island,” Leila meekly answered; “but we do not live there now. We came into the world last May, and our man-servant’s name is John; in the island we had only Nurse—look, she is coming up to us now, and she is to be my papa’s housekeeper at Woodlands.”
The ruddy face of the countryman became actually pale, as he pulled off his hat, and stood immovable before Leila.
“My master’s daughter; it’s not possible. Surely——”
Matilda, who from the moment she had joined them, had continued walking with the others, and had hitherto remained wonderfully silent, could now no longer restrain herself.
“You may indeed look surprised,” she said, “for you have made a fine mistake. Yes, it is quite true: you have all this time been speaking to Miss Howard. She is the young mistress of Woodlands. And now will you open the gates?”
“Don’t, Matilda, pray don’t,” Leila exclaimed in a voice of entreaty; “do you not see how sorry he looks?” then turning with a smile to the poor man, who still remained uncovered before them, “Do put on your hat,” she said; “the sun is hurting your eyes, and you need not be the least sorry for what you have said. I dare say you were told to take care of it; thatwas just the way Nurse used to watch over every thing in the island, only there we had no gates to lock.”
In a few minutes longer they had reached the lodge, a pretty small thatched house in the cottage style, with a profusion of China roses and honeysuckles on its white walls. Leila instantly thought how delightfully it would have suited Peggy Dobie, but she did not say so. The gates were no longer shut, they stood most invitingly open; a tidy, pleasant-looking young woman seemed to have been watching for them at the door of the cottage.
“Oh, Bill, Bill,” she exclaimed, “you have been long, and to have been away to-day of all days in the year, and a fine lady and gentleman away up the approach in the carriage, and the squire himself, and a kind, civil-spoken gentleman he seems to be.”
But the young people were too impatient to listen to further details; the moment they entered the gates they bounded forward. The windings of the approach, though calculated to show the finest trees on the property, they thought much too long, and by the time they reached the house they were breathless with impatience. Mr. Howard, who had been watching them from the window, was at the door to meet them. “Welcome to all of you,” he said, and he stoopeddown and kissed Leila repeatedly; “welcome to your future home, my Leila; may it be a happy home to you, my dearest child.”
Leila seemed at first quite bewildered; the entrance hall seemed to be so large, the drawing-room largerstill. The windows of the drawing-room opened on a trellised balcony, festooned with creeping plants, and filled with rare and beautiful flowers; a broad flight of steps, with stone balustrades on each side, and large vases, scarlet pomegranate and pink oleander in full bloom, led from this balcony to the terrace below; and beyond this terrace the velvet turf, interspersed with beds of gay and fragrant flowers, sloped down to the edge of the broad river, on which many little boats were gliding up and down; happily no steamboat being in sight on this first-favoured moment.
All were loud in their expressions of admiration; they had never seen any thing more beautiful; but though Leila admired, she seemed still bewildered, and almost more oppressed than pleased.
“It is very beautiful; but how shall I ever be able to manage such a house as this?”
Selina whispered, “Don’t distress yourself, Leila, it is not till you are grown up that you will have to manage; your papa will do it now, and my mamma will help him.”
Leila brightened a little, but still looked anxiously around the room: “Surely it is very large,” she said.
It was Matilda’s observation, “Young mistress of Woodlands,” that had done all this; poor Leila was weighed down to the ground with a sudden sense of her responsibilities; to common observers she was a simple child, young, even for her years; but there was often a deep under-current of thought about her, to be discovered only in the changes of her expressive countenance, and in the hesitating, varied tones of her voice.
Mr. Howard understood her: “We will manage all for you very nicely,” he said; “so, my dear Leila, do not be afraid; and this room will not look so large when it is furnished, and we have sofas, and chairs, and large tables, and little tables, and all sorts of pretty things in it; and it certainly will not be too large if we succeed in having all the kind friends around us at Christmas whom I hope we shall have. Your aunt, uncle, and cousins, Mr. and Mrs. Herbert, and Maria, and perhaps the Selbys, with Louisa, who knows?”
Leila, from the moment of entering the house, had been working herself up, and struggling against comfort; but comfort, in the shape of such a Christmas party as this, who could resist?She quickly gave herself up to all its happy influences, and when her papa led her into the adjoining breakfast-room, which was small, and leading into a spacious conservatory, she was in ecstasies.
“My birds, my birds,” she exclaimed, “my turtle-doves, my parrots, how they will enjoy it. They will think this more beautiful than their green parlour.”
All was sunshine to her again; it was a moment of exquisite happiness, such happiness as is only to be felt in very early life, before the sad memories of the past, “and the shadows of coming evils, have dimmed its brightness.”
The young people returned home in high spirits; Leila forgetting every care in the remembrance of the beautiful conservatory, and in the anticipation of the enjoyment of her birds in taking possession of it; and Matilda far too much excited to allow any of them to rest, even for a moment.
“Come,” she said, “we will act a play now;” and flying into the passage, she seized her papa’s hat, placed it on one side on her head, tied over her dress a green linen pinafore of Alfred’s to imitate a blouse, and returning into the room, “Now,” she said, “I will be Bill; you, Cousin Leila, are to be talking very gravely with Selina, consulting her how you are to order the dinnerat Woodlands when I come up to you; and you, Alfred, are to be the pit, and stamp with your feet, and call out very loud.”
“But why,” Leila exclaimed, “should poor Alfred be in the pit? I don’t like that, it puts me in mind of such melancholy things,—Joseph and his wicked brothers, you know,—and he called out and they would not listen; and the cruel thing we did ourselves; we put the poor goats into the pit; but papa said that was a necessary evil.”
Matilda laughed: “You are so odd,” she said; “it is not that sort of a pit at all. I never saw it myself, but Lydia told me about it,—it is a place where all the gentlemen sit in rows to see the play, and they stamp very loud with their feet, and call out encore; encore means—say it again; don’t forget that, Alfred.”
Leila was quite relieved and satisfied, and the play proceeded; and so admirably did Matilda imitate Bill’s voice and manner, and so complete was the picture when she drew off the hat, and stood with a face of mute dismay before them, that Selina and Leila were convulsed with laughter; as to little Alfred, he stamped so loud, and calledencoreso often, that even Matilda, with all her love of amusement, was fairly exhausted.
“Now,” she said, “we have had enough ofthis; let us play at Nurse’s play now, let us play at being rational beings, and sit down quietly to our work; now there’s a proposal for you, Selina, what do you say to that? I am going to turn over an entirely new leaf, and I will begin with putting back this hat into its right place, and folding up this crumpled pinafore so very nicely that Nurse will say it is fresh out of the fold. Now it is all done, and I declare you have got out your work already; well, here is mine, and we can sit down comfortably and converse about our future lives.”
“Yes,” Leila said, “that will be a delightful subject.”
“I don’t know that,” Matilda replied; “you are forgetting about the governess; she is to be here very soon, if she can come. Mamma wrote to her this morning; she bid me hold the taper when she was sealing the letter, and I could not help thinking how nice it would be if I could give a little push and set the letter on fire.”
“Oh, Matilda,” Selina exclaimed, “how sorry you make me; why do you talk in this way and why should your future life not be happy because we are to have a governess to save mamma trouble; you know she is not very strong, and she is not able to manage us herself.”
“To manageme, you should say, Selina; buthow can my future life be happy, when she will be for ever finding fault with me?”
“But why do you think so? It is quite in your own power to go on happily with her; she will not find fault with you unless you deserve it, and surely you would not wish to grow up in your faults; you could not have a happy future life if you are not good, for you have a conscience, Matilda, and after a little you are always sorry when you do wrong.”
“I am, Selina; you know me very well; but then I am so often bad, and so often sorry, that there is no great happiness about my life after all, even though I have not a governess. Well, we shall see if she makes this great change.”
“She cannot make thechange, Matilda, she can only tell you what is right; and you cannot do it either, of yourself. You must pray for the Spirit of God to come into your heart, and to make you really sorry for your faults, and really anxious to do what is right.”
“But I am really anxious,” Matilda answered; “and I am always wishing I could be as good as you are.”
“I wish you would not say that so often; I am not good.”
“Oh, ifyouare not good, and you expect me to be better than you are, it is a bad business! I need not try.”
“Why do you talk in that way? You do not know all the foolish things I think of and wish to do; but remember, Matilda, the lesson I have had, and the great blessing God has given me. Before I had made up my mind to be always dumb, I used often to pray to Him, and promise that if He would open my lips, I would try to be more and more His child, and praise Him with my life as well as with my heart; and when I read of Jesus Christ opening the eyes of the blind, and making the dumb to speak, I used to have such deep sorrow, that sometimes I could scarcely bear it; I used to shut myself up alone and say to myself, Why did I not live then? Surely if I had asked Him myself, and He had seen my sorrow, He would have listened. Oh, it was a sinful thought.”
“But why was it sinful?” Matilda asked.
“It was sinful, because it was doubting His wisdom, for He knew what was best for me; it was also doubting his power, for in heaven He equally hears our prayers and sees our sorrows; and the miracles He worked on earth are not greater than those which are every where around us. The spring and summer coming again, and bringing up the flowers, and making the dead earth so green and beautiful, are miracles of His power; and the very miracle I asked for was granted—granted in a moment—my lips were opened; from that time I made my resolution——” She stopped and coloured.
“What resolution?” Matilda eagerly asked.
“The resolution that I would try to think of Him more than I had ever done before; that I would be part of every day alone, not to ask for more worldly blessings, but to thank Him for giving me more than I ever can deserve.”
“And so this is the reason,” Matilda said, “why you go away in the forenoon and lock your door. I never could find out what you were doing; once I thought I would look through the keyhole, and I went on tip-toe, but then I remembered mamma saying that was a mean, low habit, and I did not. But you do another thing, Selina, which you never used to do before; in the morning, after you have read the Bible, you turn over and over the pages, as if you were looking for something. What are you doing then, for you cannot be reading?”
“I am finding out texts. Every day I search for a text, and an answer to it, and I get them by heart; it helps to keep good thoughts in my mind during the day.”
“And you never told me a word of all this,” Matilda said, reproachfully; “and if you had, it might have made me better, and I could have learned texts also. Why did you not tell me?”
Selina looked distressed, and coloured. “I believe I was wrong, but I always feel ashamed to talk on those subjects before any one; I fear it is a false shame.”
“No, Selina, no,” Leila said quickly: “my papa explained to me about that; to be sure, to Matilda or to me you might have said it, for he told me that with a very dear friend it was a delightful subject, but that in the world I must not talk about God as I used to do in the island; I must try to think of Him constantly just the same, and always ask myself how He would wish me to act, but I must not say so before indifferent people (that means worldly people). He says before worldly people it may do harm, for their minds may not be in a good frame at the moment, and it might make them worse, and might make them turn away; and even before good people I should not talk in this way, for good people may be shocked, and think it too sacred a subject to be talked of before many; but, Selina, I would like to do all that you have been telling me you do; I would like to find out texts also, and try to keep them in my mind, for it is not so easy to be good here as in the island, so many new things come into my mind here. What was the text you found out for to-day?”
“It was from the Psalms: ‘Blessed be Godwhich hath not turned away my prayer, nor his mercy from me.’ ”
“And what answer did you find?” Leila inquired.
“My answer was also from the Psalms: ‘I sought the Lord and he heard me, and delivered me from all my fears.’ ”
“And it was an excellent answer,” Leila observed, “and very comforting. I am so glad, Selina, you have told me of this plan. I know a great many texts, for you know in the island I had no other book to read but the Bible, but I never thought of this plan; I wish I had.”
Tears stood in Matilda’s eyes: “I do not know the Bible by heart as Leila does,” she said; “but you, Selina, will find out a text to suit me, and I will learn it,” and she rose and left the room.
“I must go to her,” Selina said; “she is a dear, kind sister to me, and always so sorry when she does wrong.”
Leila was left alone. “Such a happy home preparing for me, and so many to love,” she whispered to herself; and clasping her hands together, she looked up for a moment, then left the room to seek her father.
NEARLY a month had passed rapidly away: Mr. Howard had been much in London during the mornings, selecting furniture for Woodlands, and giving many necessary orders for their future comfort; and Mrs. Stanley had been well pleased to find that the joint example of Selina and Leila appeared to have a beneficial effect on Matilda; the daily lessons went on smoothly and well. Matilda now learned her texts regularly, and after the first few days, had always selected them for herself; and these texts generally evinced, not only a knowledge of her own faults, but a sincere desire to get the better of them: the text for that morning had been, “Remember not the sins of my youth, nor my transgressions: according to thy mercy remember thou me, for thy goodness’ sake, O Lord.”
And the answer she had selected was, “I have blotted out as a thick cloud thy transgressions, and as a cloud thy sins: return unto me, for I have redeemed thee.”
During this period Woodlands had been frequently visited. Leila had become more and more pleased with the grounds, and the beautiful walks with which it abounded.
Mr. Howard had selected a pretty little cottage, near the poultry-yard, for Peggy Dobie, and Leila had had much delight in seeing the China roses, and several pretty creepers, trained on its white walls, and the little garden put in nice order, and well stocked with useful winter vegetables. She had asked the gardener to put up a green turf seat in a warm corner of the garden; he had humbly proposed that it should be in the shade, but Leila said no—that Peggy Dobie always sat in the sun when she watched her bees, and that she said, “The sun was gude baith for bees and bodies, and gladdened her auld heart.”
Peggy had been allowed time to visit her friends before leaving her country, but the period was now approaching for her arrival, and Leila’s gay spirits were in full flow. Selina, the cat, and one solitary parrot, had been poor substitutes for the loss of all the other favourites; above all, the absence of Dash had been particularly felt and mourned over. “Now,” she said, “I have but a few days to wait, and I can scarce count up all the pleasures that are coming upon me;—Woodlands, and all theChristmas party, with all the friends that I love; and Dash, and Peggy Dobie, and all my birds and turtle-doves again,—joy, nothing but joy.”
The morning in which Peggy Dobie was to embark with her precious cargo rose calm and bright. The wind, which had been threatening to rise the day before, was completely lulled, and Leila had been rejoicing in the brightness of the day, and had watched the sun go down in golden splendour. Later in the evening, however, the wind began to rise again, but not so as at all to alarm her, and Leila’s tranquil sleep was unbroken by the coming storm, the loud howling of the blast amidst the trees, and the sound of distant thunder—it was a fearful night. Mr. Howard had more than once left his bed to look out upon the scene of desolation, for the ground was strewed with branches from the trees, and the clouds were driving before the wind with unceasing velocity. It recalled to his mind that dreadful night when he seemed about to part with all most dear to him, and though deeply grateful for the present safety of one so loved, he yet felt painfully anxious for those that might now be in similar circumstances. The good old woman too, whom he had been the means of removing from her quiet home, he thought what Leila’s grief would be, and his own regrets, if aught of ill befell her.Of all this threatened danger Leila was in ignorance till awakened next morning by Nurse: her face of dismay Leila was too sleepy to observe, but her words were startling.
“Oh, Miss Leila!” she exclaimed, “poor,poorPeggy Dobie, and our valuable Dash, and all the poor dumb animals.”
“What is it, Nurse?” Leila cried, starting up and rubbing her eyes; “are they arrived?—but no; that is not possible; they cannot arrive for two days yet. What has happened? why do you look so? Oh, tell me!”
“Calm yourself, my dear Miss Leila. It was not like my usual prudence to frighten you in this way; but did you not hear the awful wind in the night? listen to it now, how it roars.”
Leila was out of bed in a moment, and gazing from the window. The lawn was strewed with leaves and branches from the trees; one branch lay across the doorway, so very large, it seemed an entire tree. She shuddered. Mr. Howard entered the room at this moment, and lifting her in his arms, he replaced her in bed, and sat down beside her.
Leila’s long dark eyelashes were wet with tears; her cheeks were very pale, and she trembled violently. Mr. Howard stooped down and kissed her forehead.
“You were wrong to leave your bed, mychild, you are very cold—and cold also, I fear, from excessive agitation. Now, dear Leila, give me a proof this day that you are endeavouring to gain more command over your feelings, and let me see that you do not give way to what are, I trust, unnecessary fears.”
“Unnecessary?” she replied, in a low voice. “Papa, do you remember Clara?”
“Yes, my dear child, I do remember; but I remember also that there isOnewhose arm is mighty to save. He can say to the angry waves, ‘Be still;’ and without his knowledge ‘not a sparrow falls to the ground.’ He took Clara to Himself, and He saved us from further trial. He willed it so—let us trust to Him entirely. He alone, who knows the end from the beginning, can make all work together for good.”
Leila hastily brushed the tears from her eyes, and laid her little hand on her papa’s. Mr. Howard started, it was so very cold; but she struggled for composure, and said in a calm voice,——“Yes, papa, I will try to think of all this, and my text for to-day shall be, ‘The waves of the sea are mighty and rage horribly, but yet the Lord who dwelleth on high is mightier: for He maketh the storm to cease, so that the waves thereof are still.’ Now kiss me, papa, and please send Amy to help me to dress, and when I have been to your room to say my prayers and toread to you, I am sure I shall feel quite comforted again, and you shall see that I am getting command, papa.”
Leila kept her promise. Not a moment did she give way to outward emotion, but during that day many an anxious expression passed over her sweet face, for the storm continued to rage fearfully, and the party were constantly startled from their seats by the crashing sound of some large branch from the surrounding trees. These creaking and crashing sounds constantly brought a frightful moment to Leila’s imagination, and no one was without anxiety, for it was impossible to believe but that such a storm must bring disastrous consequences to many an anxious heart. Selina seldom left Leila’s side for a moment, and made constant efforts to draw her into conversation; and Matilda, as every fresh gust of wind arose, exerted herself in every way she could think of to distract her attention from the scene without. Later in the day it began to rain heavily, and the wind fell, and towards evening the sky cleared, and the moon shone out so bright, so calm, its mild rays shed instant peace and hope into Leila’s young heart, and she lay down to sleep with many bright anticipations of the morrow.
The morrow came, the lawn looked fresh and green, all traces of the storm had been removed,and every surrounding object seemed rejoicing in the sunshine. Leila proposed that after the lessons they should walk with Nurse and Amy to Woodlands to see if all was in order in Peggy Dobie’s cottage for her reception in the evening.
“I am sorry,” she said, “that she is not to arrive here at first with my pets, for we cannot know the very moment, and it will take some time for Bill to send us the message. How nice it would be if we had a carrier-pigeon, papa, then it could fly to us in a moment; when we are staying at Woodlands, perhaps you will allow me to teach a carrier-pigeon, then I can send letters to Selina and Matilda whenever I wish to tell them any thing. Eh, papa? is not this a nice little plan? But you have not answered me yet if we may go to Woodlands.”
“Why, my dear child, so many nice little plans from you come popping out, one after another, that it is not easy to answer them all; but I have no objections to your going to Woodlands, only remember, Leila, that it is not at all certain that Peggy will arrive this evening; the steamboat will probably have been detained by the storm.”
“Well, papa, I will try to be very patient; but I don’t think it will be detained; I think that perhaps the wind will have blown it onmuch quicker; so we must be quick also. You know, papa, you say we must not anticipate evils, or give way to imaginary fears, eh, papa?”
“Get along, little woman,” was all Mr. Howard’s answer, as he patted her head, and the next moment she was gone.
As soon as the lessons were over, the young party proceeded merrily on their way to Woodlands. They soon reached the lodge, and found Bill at his post, who opened the gates, and gave them entrance with the greatest alacrity; and when informed of their intention to visit Peggy Dobie’s cottage, took down a large key that hung behind his own door, and prepared to lead the way. He would not hear of Nurse’s proposal to save him that trouble. “What!” he said, “was he not proud to do that small service for his master’s daughter, or any of her friends—he hoped to do many a greater service than that for the family ere long.”
They were all much pleased with the perfect order in which they found every thing around the cottage, and still more delighted with all within. Mr. Howard had indeed done his part; the little bed-room looked so comfortable, with its nice tidy bed in one corner, its chest of drawers, its white deal table, with basin, ewer, &c., all, in short, was complete. And then thekitchen—the kitchen was a picture indeed; there stood the pretty chairs, and the small round table of walnut-tree, looking so bright, which Leila had entreated her papa to procure for Peggy. In a corner next the latticed window, was a small cupboard with a glass door, showing such pretty cups, saucers, and glasses within, as could not fail soon to become the pride of Peggy’s heart. Above the small dresser there were shelves with plates, and dishes, and bowls, and mugs innumerable, and close by the door a cuckoo clock was ticking cheerily. They all looked round in perfect ecstasies.
“It is most delightful,” Leila exclaimed; “there is just one thing that could be better, this arm-chair for Peggy should be turned round to the hearth, a cat should be lying before it, and a nice fire burning. Were you able to find peats in this country?” she said, turning to Bill; “you know I begged you to try.”
“Yes, yes,” Matilda said, “he did find them—I saw them in a box behind the door.” She was off in a moment, and returned with a couple in her hand.
“Now, Nurse, dear Nurse,” Leila said, coaxingly, “do let me light Peggy’s first fire myself—you know how very kind she was to me; now there’s a good Nurse, I see you are going to let me—you have your good-natured face on,though you are shaking your head; but I know what you mean by shaking it—you think I shall dirty my hands, and that is not a young lady’s work; but peats don’t dirty the hands—I am only going to put on peats and wood, you know.”
“Oh, Miss Leila, Miss Leila, you have such a way with me.”
“But, Nurse, you know you say yourself that I should not have useless hands and be a fine lady. There, now I see it is yes by your eyes. Matilda, give me that match-box from the chimney-piece.” She was on her knees on the hearth, and had struck a light in a moment.
“Now, Selina, take the bellows, and blow very gently while I am crumbling down a little of the peat; that’s it. Oh, how nice! See what a blaze already—now for the wood; we must put the wood behind, and more peats in the front—how it burns! is not this charming?”
Bill stood looking on in mute astonishment. “Well,” he said at last, “desert island, orno desert island, you are a handy little miss; see when a London young lady would have kindled a fire in such a fashion,—but you seem all of one stamp. Heaven be praised for such a family.”
“There is still one thing wanting,” Leila said,“still the cat. Peggy will not think herself at home without a cat upon the hearth. You are so good-natured,” she continued, looking up in Bill’s face, “perhaps you would be so very kind as to give us your cat, just for one day, till Peggy has time to unpack her own.”
Bill smiled. “There is nothing in my house that I would not give,” he replied, “to pleasure my young mistress; but, bless your heart, the cats in our country would never abide on a strange hearth. Our cat would be through the window in no time, I am afeared.”
“It was very foolish in me to propose this,” Leila answered, “for I dare say all cats are the same, and our Selina almost mewed her heart out when she was first put into the ship—she can’t bear strange places either.”
Once more she looked around the room to see if all was perfect; the small latticed window with the China-roses clustering in about it, she was sure would delight Peggy, for Peggy was so fond of flowers; might they not gather a few and make a nosegay for the middle of the table. The next moment they were all in the little garden—the flowers were quickly gathered and arranged, and after giving Bill many injunctions to be so very kind as to step up frequently and put more wood on the fire, and also to be quite sure to send off a quick messenger the very momentPeggy and the pets entered the gates, they left the cottage.
They had not time to enter the house at Woodlands, where all with regard to furnishing had been going on prosperously, but they had seen what had been done there more than once. Leila had thought it all beautiful, but she had a simple taste; she really did not like fine things, and her only request with regard to the furnishing had been, “Nothing fine in my room, papa—please, nothing fine; just a nice little bed with white dimity curtains, and a large sea-grass mat under my little washhand-stand, for I don’t like to wash and dash and splash on a Brussels carpet.”
The rest of the day passed in pleasant expectation, but towards evening the young people got very restless indeed, and little Alfred was perpetually popping out at the door and running a little way down the gravel walk, in the hope of meeting some one from Woodlands, and bringing the first intelligence; but no carrier-pigeon or swift messenger of any kind arrived; and at a later hour than usual the young people retired to rest, disappointed, but not alarmed. To-morrow was a new day, and to-morrow would bring all they wished. But to-morrow came; it was a long trying day of expectation, and still no tidings were received. It was with greatdifficulty that they could attend at all to their lessons; but Mrs. Stanley was very indulgent, and repeated most of them herself; and the moment they were over, she despatched them all to count over their clothes, and to put their drawers in order; to be busy and active was what she particularly required of them on that long, long day. It came to an end at last, and they went early to bed; but Mr. Howard had now become seriously uneasy, and next morning, as soon as breakfast was over, went to London to inquire at the steamboat office if they had received any intelligence with regard to the “Victoria.”