CHAPTER FOURTEENTH
"You play the spaniel, And think with wagging of your tongue to win me." --SHAKESPEARE's _Henry Eighth_.
"These delights, if thou canst give, Mirth, with thee I mean to live." --MILTON's _L'Allegro_.
The young party at Roselands had now grown so large--several additionshaving been made to it on Monday afternoon and evening--that a separatetable was ordered to be spread for them in the nursery, where they tooktheir meals together; Mrs. Brown, the housekeeper, taking the head ofthe table, for the double purpose of keeping them in order, and seeingthat their wants were well supplied.
Elsie came in to breakfast, from a brisk walk with her papa, lookingfresh and rosy, and bright as the morning; quite different from some ofthe little guests, who had been up far beyond their usual hours thenight before, and, having just left their beds, had come down pale andlanguid in looks, and in some instances showing peevish and fretfultempers, very trying to the patience of their attendants.
"O Elsie!" exclaimed Carry Howard, as the little girl took her place atthe table, "we were all so sorry that you had to leave us so soon lastnight; we had lots of fun after you left. I think your papa might havelet you stay up a little longer; but he has promised that tonight--aswe are to have the Christmas-tree, and ever so much will be goingon--you shall stay up till half-past nine, if you like. Aren't youglad? I'm sure I am."
"Yes, papa is very kind, and I know I feel much better for going to bedearly last night," said Elsie, cheerfully.
"Yes, indeed," remarked Mrs. Brown, "late hours and rich food are verybad for little folks, and I notice that Miss Elsie has grown a dealstronger and healthier-looking since her papa came home; he takes suchgood care of her."
"Indeed he does," said Elsie heartily, thanking Mrs. Brown with one ofher sweetest smiles.
"What are we going to do to-day, Elsie?" asked Caroline.
"Whatever you all prefer," said Elsie. "If you like I will practicethat duet with you the first hour after breakfast, or do anything elseyou wish; but the second hour I must spend with papa, and after that Ihave nothing to do but entertain my company all day."
"Do you do lessons in holidays?" asked Mary Leslie, a merry, fun-lovingchild, about Elsie's own age, who considered lessons an intolerablebore, and had some vague idea that they must have been invented for thesole purpose of tormenting children. Her blue eyes opened wide withastonishment when Elsie quietly replied that her papa had kindlyarranged to give her an hour every morning, because he knew it would beso much pleasanter for her than spending the whole day in play.
Elsie did keenly enjoy that quiet hour spent in studying and recitingto her father, sitting on a low stool at his feet, or perhaps ofteneron his knee, with his arm around her waist.
She had an eager and growing thirst for knowledge, and was an aptscholar, whom any one with the least love for the profession might havedelighted in teaching; and Mr. Dinsmore, a thorough scholar himself,and loving knowledge for its own sake--loving also his little pupilwith all a father's fond, yearning affection--delighted in his task.
When Elsie left her father she found that the Carringtons had justarrived. She and Lucy had not seen each other since the week the latterhad spent at Roselands early in the summer, and both felt pleased tomeet.
Mrs. Carrington gave Elsie a warm embrace, remarking that she hadgrown, and was looking extremely well; better than she had ever seenher. But no one was more delighted to meet Elsie than Herbert, and shewas very glad to learn that his health was gradually improving. He wasnot, however, at all strong, even yet, and his mother thought it bestfor him to lie down and rest a little after his ride. She promised tosit by him, and the two little girls went in search of the rest of theyoung folks.
Several of the older boys had gone out walking or riding, but theyounger ones, and all the little girls, were gathered in a little backparlor, where, by Adelaide's care and forethought, a variety ofstory-books, toys, and games, had been provided for their amusement.Elsie's entrance was hailed with delight, for she was a generalfavorite.
"Oh! Elsie, can't you tell us what to play?" cried Mary Leslie; "I'm sotired," and she yawned wearily.
"Here are some dissected maps, Mary," replied Elsie, opening a drawer;"would you not like them?"
"No, indeed, thank you; they are too much like lessons."
"Here are blocks; will you build houses?"
"Oh! I am too big for that; they are very nice for little children."
"Will you play jack-stones? here are some smooth pebbles."
"Yes, if you and Carry, and Lucy, will play with me."
"Agreed!" said the others, "let's have a game."
So, Elsie having first set the little ones to building block-houses,supplied Harry Carrington--an older brother of Lucy's--with a book, andtwo younger boys with dissected maps to arrange, the four girls satdown in a circle on the carpet and began their game.
For a few moments all went on smoothly; but soon angry and complainingwords were heard coming from the corner where the house-building wasgoing on. Elsie left her game to try to make peace.
"What is the matter, Flora, dear?" she asked soothingly of a littlecurly-headed girl, who was sobbing, and wiping her eyes with the cornerof her apron.
"Enna took my blocks," sobbed the child.
"Oh! Enna, won't you give them back?" said Elsie, coaxingly; "you knowFlora is a visitor, and we must be very polite to her."
"No, I won't," returned Enna, flatly; "she's got enough now."
"No, I haven't; I can't build a house with those," Flora said, withanother sob.
Elsie stood a moment looking much perplexed; then, with a brighteningface, exclaimed in her cheerful, pleasant way, "Well, never mind,Flora, dear, I will get you my doll. Will not that do quite aswell?"--"Oh! yes, I'd rather have the doll, Elsie," the little weeperanswered eagerly, smiling through her tears.
Elsie ran out of the room and was back again almost in a moment, withthe doll in her arms.
"There, dear little Flora," she said, laying it gently on the child'slap, "please be careful of it for I have had it a long while, and prizeit very much, because my guardian gave it to me when I was a verylittle girl, and he is dead now."
"I won't break it, Elsie, indeed I won't," replied Flora, confidently;and Elsie sat down to her game again.
A few moments afterward Mr. Horace Dinsmore passed through the room.
"Elsie," he said, as he caught sight of his little daughter, "go up tomy dressing-room."
There was evidently displeasure and reproof in his tone, and, entirelyunconscious of wrongdoing, Elsie looked up in surprise, asking, "Why,papa?"
"Because _I bid_ you," he replied; and she silently obeyed, wonderinggreatly what she had done to displease her father.
Mr. Dinsmore passed out of one door while Elsie left by the other.
The three little girls looked inquiringly into each other's faces.
"What is the matter? what has Elsie done?" asked Carry in a whisper.
"I don't know; nothing I guess," replied Lucy, indignantly. "I dobelieve he's just the crossest man alive! When I was here last summerhe was all the time scolding and punishing poor Elsie for just nothingat all."
"I think he must be very strict," said Carry; "but Elsie seems to lovehim very much."
"Strict! I guess he is!" exclaimed Mary; "why, only think, girls, hemakes her do her lessons in the holidays!"
"I suspect she did not know her lesson, and has to learn it over," saidCarry, shaking her head wisely; and that was the conclusion they allcame to.
In the meantime, Elsie sat down alone in her banishment, and tried tothink what she could have done to deserve it.
It was some time before she could form any idea of its cause; but atlength it suddenly came to her recollection that once, several monthsbefore this, her father had found her sitting on the carpet, and hadbade her get up immediately and sit on a chair or stool, say
ing, "Neverlet me see you sitting on the floor, Elsie, when there are plenty ofseats at hand. I consider it a very unladylike and slovenly trick."
She covered her face with her hands, and sat thus for some moments,feeling very sorry for her forgetfulness and disobedience; verypenitent on account of it; and then, kneeling down, she askedforgiveness of God.
A full hour she had been there alone, and the time had seemed verylong, when at last the door opened and her father came in.
Elsie rose and came forward to meet him with the air of one who hadoffended and knew she was in disgrace; but putting one of her littlehands in his, she looked up pleadingly into his face, asking, in aslightly tremulous tone, "Dear papa, are you angry with me?"
"I am always displeased when you disobey me, Elsie," he replied, verygravely, laying his other hand on her head.
"I am very sorry I was naughty, papa," she said, humbly, and castingdown her eyes, "but I had quite forgotten that you had told me not tosit on the floor, and I could not think for a good while what it wasthat I had done wrong."
"Is _that_ an excuse for disobedience, Elsie?" he asked in a tone ofgrave displeasure.
"No, sir; I did not mean it so, and I am very, very sorry; dear papa,please forgive me, and I will try never to forget again."
"I think you disobeyed in another matter," he said.
"Yes, sir, I know it was very naughty to ask why, but I think I willremember not to do it again. Dear papa, won't you forgive me?"
He sat down and took her on his knee.
"Yes, daughter, I will," he said, in his usual kind, affectionate tone;"I am always ready to forgive my little girl when I see that she issorry for a fault."
She held up her face for a kiss, which he gave.
"I wish I could always be good, papa," she said, "but I am naughty sooften."
"No," said he, "I think you have been a very good girl for quite a longtime. If you were as naughty as Arthur and Enna, I don't know what Ishould do with you; whip you every day, I suspect, until I made abetter girl of you. Now you may go down to your mates; but _remember_,you are not to play jack-stones again."
It was now lunch-time, and Elsie found the children in the nurseryengaged in eating.
Flora turned to her as she entered.
"Please, Elsie, don't be cross," she said coaxingly: "I am real sorryyour doll's broken, but it wasn't my fault Enna would try to snatch it,and that made it fall and break its head."
Poor Elsie! this was quite a trial, and she could scarcely keep backthe tears as, following Flora's glance, she saw her valued doll lyingon the window-seat with its head broken entirely off. She said not aword, but, hastily crossing the room, took it up and gazed mournfullyat it.
Kind Mrs. Brown, who had just finished helping her young charge allround, followed her to the window, "Never mind, dear," she said in herpleasant, cheery tone, patting Elsie's cheek and smoothing her hair"I've got some excellent glue, and I think I can stick it on again andmake it almost as good as ever. So come, sit down and eat your lunch,and don't fret any more."
"Thank you, ma'am, you are very kind," Elsie said, trying to smile, asthe kind-hearted old lady led her to the table and filled her platewith fruit and cakes.
"These cakes are very simple, not at all rich, my dear, but quite whatyour papa would approve of," she said, seeing the little girl lookdoubtfully at them.
"Doesn't your papa let you eat anything good, Elsie?" asked Mary Leslieacross the table. "He must be cross."
"No, indeed, he is not, Mary, and he lets me eat everything that hethinks is good for me," Elsie answered with some warmth.
She was seated between Caroline Howard and Lucy Carrington.
"What _did_ your papa send you away for, Elsie?" whispered the latter.
"Please don't ask me, Lucy," replied the little girl, blushing deeply."Papa always has a good reason for what he does, and he is just thedearest, kindest, and best father that ever anybody had."
Elsie spoke in an eager, excited, almost angry manner, quite unusualwith her, while the hot tears came into her eyes, for she knew verywell what was Lucy's opinion of her father, and more than halfsuspected that she had been making some unkind remark about him to theothers, and she was eager to remove any unfavorable impression theymight have received.
"I am sure he must love you very dearly, Elsie," remarked Caroline,soothingly; "no one could help seeing that just by the way he looks atyou."
Elsie answered her with a pleased and grateful look; and then changedthe subject by proposing that they should all take a walk as soon asthey had finished eating, as the day was fine, and there would beplenty of time before dinner.
The motion was carried without a dissenting voice, and in a few momentsthey all set out, a very merry party, full of fun and frolic. They hada very pleasant time, and returned barely in season to be dressed fordinner.
They dined by themselves in the nursery, but were afterward taken downto the drawing-room. Here Elsie found herself immediately seized uponby a young lady, dressed in very gay and fashionable style, whom shedid not remember ever to have seen before, but who insisted on seatingthe little girl on the sofa by her side, and keeping her there a longwhile, loading her with caresses and flattery.
"My dear child," she said, "what lovely hair you have! so fine, andsoft, and glossy; such a beautiful color, too, and curls so_splendidly! Natural_ ringlets, I'm sure, are they not?"
"Yes, ma'am," Elsie answered, simply, wishing from the bottom of herheart that the lady would release her, and talk to some one else.
But the lady had no such intention.
"You are a very sweet little girl, I am sure, and I shall love youdearly," she said, kissing her several times. "Ah! I would give_anything_ if I had such a clear fair complexion and such rosy cheeks.That makes you blush. Well, I like to see it; blushes are verybecoming. Oh! you needn't pretend you don't know you're handsome;you're a perfect little beauty. Do tell me, where did you get suchsplendid eyes! But I needn't ask, for I have only to look at yourfather to see where they came from. Mr. Dinsmore"--to Elsie's papa, whojust then came toward them--"you ought to be very proud of this child;she is the very image of yourself, and a perfect little beauty, too."
"Miss Stevens is pleased to flatter me," he said, bowing low; "butflattery is not good for either grown-up children or younger ones, andI must beg leave to decline the compliment, as I cannot see that Elsiebears the slightest resemblance to me or any of my family. She is verylike her mother, though," he added, with a half sigh and a tender,loving glance at his little girl, "and that is just what I would haveher. But I am forgetting my errand, Miss Stevens; I came to ask if youwill ride this afternoon, as we are getting up a small party."
"Yes, thank you, I should like it dearly, it is such a lovely day. Buthow soon do you start?"
"As soon as the ladies can be ready. The horses will be at the door ina very few moments."
"Ah! then I must go and prepare," she said, rising and sailing out ofthe room.
Mr. Dinsmore took the seat she had vacated, and, passing his arm roundhis little girl, said to her in an undertone, "My little daughter mustnot be so foolish as to believe that people mean all they say to her;for some persons talk in a very thoughtless way, and, without perhapsintending to be exactly untruthful, say a great deal that they reallydo not mean. And I should be sorry, indeed, to see my little girl sospoiled by all this silly flattery as to grow up conceited and vain."
She looked at him with her own sweet innocent smile, free from theslightest touch of vanity.
"No, papa," she said, "I do not mind, when people say such things,because I know the Bible says, 'Favor is deceitful, and beauty isvain;' and in another place, 'He that flattereth his neighbor spreadetha net for his feet.' So I will try to keep away from that lady; shall Inot, papa?"
"Whenever you can do so without rudeness, daughter;" and he moved away,thinking to himself, "How strangely the teachings of that book seem topreserve my child from every evil influence."
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p; A sigh escaped him. There was lurking within his breast a vagueconsciousness that her father needed such a safeguard, but had it not.
Lucy, who was standing at the window, turned quickly round.
"Come, girls," she said, "let us run out and see them off; they'rebringing up the horses. And see, there's Miss Adelaide in herriding-dress and cap; how pretty she looks! And there's that MissStevens coming out now; hateful thing! I can't bear her! Come, Elsieand Carry!"
And she ran out, Caroline and Elsie following. Elsie, however, went nofurther than the hall, where she stood still at the foot of the stairs.
"Come, Elsie," called the other two from the portico, "come out here."
"No," replied the little girl, "I cannot come without something roundme. Papa says it is too cold for me to be out in the wind to-day withmy neck and arms bare."
"Pooh! nonsense!" said Lucy, "'tain't a bit cold; _do_ come now."
"No, Lucy, I must obey my father," Elsie answered in a very pleasantbut no less decided tone.
Some one caught her round the waist and lifted her up.
"Oh! papa," she exclaimed, "I did not know you were there! I wish I wasgoing too; I don't like to have _you_ go without me."
"I wish you were, my pet; I always love to have you with me; but youknow it wouldn't do; you have your little guests to entertain. Good-by,darling. Don't go out in the cold."
He kissed her, as he always did now, when leaving her even for an houror two, and set her down.
The little girls watched until the last of the party had disappeareddown the avenue, and then ran gayly up-stairs to Elsie's room, wherethey busied themselves until tea-time in various little preparationsfor the evening, such as dressing dolls, and tying up bundles ofconfectionery, etc., to be hung upon the Christmas-tree.
The children had all noticed that the doors of a parlor opening intothe drawing-room had been closed since morning to all but a favoredfew, who passed in and out, with an air of mystery and importance, andgenerally laden with some odd-looking bundle when going in, which theyinvariably left behind on coming out again, and many a whisperedconsultation had been held as to what was probably going on in there.Elsie and Carry seemed to be in the secret, but only smiled and shooktheir heads wisely when questioned.
But at length tea being over, and all, both old and young, assembled asif by common consent in the drawing-room, it began to be whisperedabout that their curiosity was now on the point of being gratified.
All were immediately on the _qui vive_, and every face brightened withmirth and expectation; and when, a moment after, the doors were thrownopen, there was a universal burst of applause.
A large Christmas-tree had been set up at the further end of the room,and, with its myriad of lighted tapers, and its load of toys andbonbons, interspersed with many a richer and more costly gift, madequite a display.
"Beautiful! beautiful!" cried the children, clapping their hands anddancing about with delight, while their elders, perhaps equallypleased, expressed their admiration after a more staid and soberfashion. When they thought their handiwork had been sufficientlyadmired, Mrs. Dinsmore and Adelaide approached the tree and began thepleasant task of distributing the gifts.
Everything was labelled, and each, as his or her name was called out,stepped forward to receive the present.
No one had been forgotten; each had something, and almost every one hadseveral pretty presents. Mary Leslie and little Flora Arnott were madeperfectly happy with wax dolls that could open and shut their eyes;Caroline Howard received a gold chain from her mamma, and a pretty pinfrom Elsie; Lucy, a set of coral ornaments, besides several smallerpresents; and others were equally fortunate. All was mirth andhilarity; only one clouded face to be seen, and that belonged to Enna,who was pouting in a corner because Mary Leslie's doll was a littlelarger than hers.
Elsie had already received a pretty bracelet from her Aunt Adelaide, aneedle-case from Lora, and several little gifts from her young guests,and was just beginning to wonder what had become of her papa's promisedpresent, when she heard her name again, and Adelaide, turning to herwith a pleased look, slipped a most beautiful diamond ring on herfinger.
"From your papa," she said. "Go and thank him: it is well worth it."
Elsie sought him out where he stood alone in a corner, an amusedspectator of the merry scene.
"See, papa," she said, holding up her hand. "I think it very beautiful;thank you, dear papa, thank you very much."
"Does it please you, my darling?" he asked, stooping to press a kiss onthe little upturned face, so bright and happy.
"Yes, papa, I think it is lovely! the very prettiest ring I ever saw."
"Yet I think there is something else you would have liked better; isthere not?" he asked, looking searchingly into her face.
"Dear papa, I like it _very_ much; I would rather have it than anythingelse on the tree."
"Still you have not answered my question," he said, with a smile, as hesat down and drew her to his side, adding in a playful tone, "Come, Iam not going to put up with any evasion; tell me truly if you wouldhave preferred something else, and if so, what it is."
Elsie blushed and looked down; then raising her eyes, and seeing withwhat a tender, loving glance he was regarding her, she took courage tosay, "Yes papa, there is _one_ thing I would have liked better, andthat is your miniature."
To her surprise he looked highly pleased at her reply, and giving heranother kiss, said, "Well, darling, some day you shall have it."
"Mr. Horace Dinsmore," called Adelaide, taking some small, glitteringobject from the tree.
"Another present for me?" he asked, as Walter came running with it.
He had already received several, from his father and sisters, but nonehad seemed to give him half the pleasure that this did when he saw thatit was labelled, "From his little daughter."
It was only a gold pencil. The miniature--with which the artist hadsucceeded so well that nothing could have been prettier except theoriginal herself--she had reserved to be given in another way.
"Do you like it, papa?" she asked, her face glowing with delight to seehow pleased he was.
"Yes, darling, very much; and I shall always think of my little girlwhen I use it."
"Keep it in your pocket, and use it every day, won't you, papa?"
"Yes, my pet, I will; but I thought you said you had no present for me?"
"Oh! no, no, papa; I said there was none for you amongst those bundles.I had bought this, but had given it to Aunt Adelaide to take care of,for fear you might happen to see it."
"Ah! that was it, eh?" and he laughed and stroked her hair.
"Here, Elsie, here is your bundle of candy," said Walter, running up tothem again. "Everybody has one, and that is yours, Adelaide says."
He put it in her hand, and ran away again. Elsie looked up in herfather's face inquiringly.
"No, darling," he said, taking the paper from her hand and examiningits contents, "not to-night; to-morrow, after breakfast, you may eatthe cream-candy and the rock, but none of the others; they are colored,and very unwholesome."
"Won't _you_ eat some, papa?" she asked with winning sweetness.
"No, dearest," he said; "for though I, too, am fond of sweet things, Iwill not eat them while I refuse them to you."
"Do, papa," she urged, "it would give me pleasure to see you enjoyingit."
"No, darling, _I_ will wait until to-morrow, too."
"Then please keep it for me until to-morrow, papa, will you?"
"Yes," he said, putting it in his pocket; and then, as the gifts hadall been distributed, and the little folks were in high glee, a varietyof sports were commenced by them, in which some of their elders alsotook a part; and thus the hours sped away so rapidly that Elsie wasvery much surprised when her father called her to go to bed.
"Is it half-past nine already, papa?" she asked.
"It is ten, my dear child, and high time you were in bed," he said,smiling at her look of astonishment. "I hope you have en
joyed yourself."
"Oh! _so_ much, papa. Good-night, and thank you for letting me stay upso long."