CHAPTER XIII.
THE HAPPY PARTY.
It was the first week in September before Mr. Graham moved, and thebeginning of the second before his family were so settled as that Jessiecould fulfil her promise of an evening's entertainment to her youngfriends. They were all invited the day before to come at four o'clock,that they might have an hour to see all the beauties which Jessie haddiscovered, and all the improvements which she had made in her new home,and then, taking tea at five o'clock, might all be at their homes againbefore the evening became chill. I had a whispered request from Jessie,that though there were to be no grown ladies there, I would just comewith the children; a request which you may suppose I did not refuse.When the afternoon came, I took Mary and Alice and two other littlegirls with me in the carriage, while Harriet rode her own pony. Jessiewas waiting in the piazza to welcome us, and William Temple stoodgallantly ready to help us from the carriage; and before the hour wasgone, every nook and corner of the poultry-yard and garden had beenexplored. They were both in very nice order, and Alice, as Jessie ledher around the garden, was constantly exclaiming, "How delightful!"while she inhaled the perfume of roses and pinks, and honeysuckles andjessamines. It was too late for strawberries or raspberries, but whenthis garden was made, Mr. Dickinson had had some fine peach and peartrees set in it, and these were now covered with ripe fruit, and fromthe grape-vine hung large clusters of the rich purple grape. The tablefor the children was spread under the grape-arbor, and when at fiveo'clock they were called to it, they found,--not cakes and sweetmeatsand tea,--but a dish of warm, light biscuits, of Mrs. Graham's ownmaking--a bowl of soft peaches with cream and sugar--baskets of pearsand grapes, and a cup of Mooly's rich milk for each child. The sun waslow, and only a few of its rays found their way through thereddish-colored grape-leaves into the arbor; and, sure I am, those raysnever fell upon a happier group. They were still enjoying their feast,when hearing some one speak to Mr. Graham, who was busy propping up anoverloaded branch of a pear-tree, I looked around and saw Mrs. Templeand Mr. Dickinson with Flora Temple in his arms, coming towards thearbor.
"Mr. Graham," I heard Mr. Dickinson say, "why have you not taken yourlittle visiters through the other garden?"
"Why, sir," said Mr. Graham, "though they are all very good children,they are not just as used to gardens as Jessie, and they might becareless--but if you would let me, I would like to take that poor blindchild through the green-house, for she is so fond of flowers, and Idoubt if she ever smelt a lemon blossom."
"Certainly, Mr. Graham, I shall be pleased to have you take her."
Mrs. Temple took Flora from her brother and joined the little partyunder the arbor, while Mr. Dickinson remained outside, seemingly engagedwith Mr. Graham, but I suspect much more attentive to the merry voicesof the children. At length William called him in, and I am sure no onewho saw him then for the first time would have called him "the cross Mr.Dickinson." I said this to old Mrs. Graham, and her reply was, "Nothing,I think, ma'am, makes people so pleasant and good-humored as seeinghappy faces,--especially when they know, as Mr. Dickinson does, thatthey made the happiness."
Our party separated in good time, but not before Mr. Graham had takenAlice to the green-house. She went with him, not knowing where he wastaking her, and was so delighted with the strange perfume, and socurious to know from what it came, that Mr. Dickinson, who had followedthem, cut off a cluster of flowers from a lemon-tree for her. Afterthis, the highest expression of satisfaction with any thing which Aliceever gave, was to say, "It is almost as pleasant as Mr. Dickinson'sgreen-house."
When William was leading me to the carriage, he begged me to put my headdown, as he wanted to tell me a secret. I did so, and he whispered, "Iam coming to spend Christmas with my uncle, and I told him I wanted tosee a play acted, for I never saw one; and he says I shall see one thenand act in it too, and he will write it himself, and it is to be called,"All for Truth, or the Flower well Lost."
That I shall have an invitation to see this play I have little doubt; somy next story for you may be of Christmas merry-making at Flowerhill--atthe cross Mr. Dickinson's. Let this teach my little readers, that ifchildren are good and pleasant themselves, they will seldom find any onecross to them long.
THE END.
FLORENCE ARNOTT:
OR,
IS SHE GENEROUS?