When last I took leave of my young friends, it was autumn, and we werelooking forward to Christmas entertainments at Flowerhill, where a playwritten by Mr. Dickinson himself was to be acted. Those of you who haveread Jessie Graham, may remember that I thought it probable my nextstory for you would be of these entertainments.
Mr. Dickinson kept his promise. The play was written; and a fortnightbefore Christmas, came William Temple, full of joyful expectation. Theday after his arrival he rode over with his uncle to see me, and toinvite Harriet and Mary to be at Flowerhill the next morning, to hearthe play read, and to receive their parts, for parts they were both tohave. Soon after Mr. Dickinson and William left us, the sky was overcastwith heavy clouds, which, as evening approached, became more and morewild and dark. I predicted a snow-storm, and Harriet and Mary went tosleep with little hope of being able to fulfil their engagement.
The snow-storm came, but it lasted only a few hours of the night, andthe next morning's sun rose clear and bright. Bright indeed, dazzlinglybright, as its rays fell on the pure, white snow with which the wholeground was covered, or shone through the icicles, with which every treewas hung, making them look like glittering diamonds, in each of whichthere seemed a tiny rainbow.
I had ordered the carriage at an early hour, and we had scarcelybreakfasted when the merry jingle of the sleigh-bells told that it wasat the door. Even the horses seemed gayer than usual, and whirled usalong so rapidly, that had not the reins been in the hands of Henry,whom I knew to be the steadiest and most careful coachman in thecountry, I should have been half frightened. William saw us from theparlor window, and had the door open for us as soon as we were out ofthe sleigh. We were just cold enough to enjoy the warm parlor; and as wedrew close to the blazing wood fire, Mary exclaimed, "Aunt Kitty, do younot wish it was always winter?"
"No, Mary, for I love spring flowers and summer and autumn fruits."
"Oh! I had forgotten them," said Mary, "but I am very glad there is awinter too."
"So am I, Mary, very glad, and very thankful to Him who gives us thevarying pleasures which make each season welcome."
We were interrupted by Mr. Dickinson, who came in with the play. He readit for us, and I am sure no play was ever heard with more pleasure.Harriet and Mary received their parts, and were now quite impatient toget home, that they might begin to study them.
This pleasant morning visit was all which I saw of the Christmasentertainments at Flowerhill, for on my return home, I found a carriagewaiting for me, and a letter requesting me to come to a very dearfriend, who was both ill and in trouble, and needed a nurse and acomforter. You may be sure that I made no delay in complying with thisrequest; but before I tell you any thing of my visit, I would give yousome account of my friend, Mrs. Arnott, and of her daughter Florence, asshe had appeared to me about eighteen months before, when I had spentsome weeks with her mother under very different circumstances.