Christmas had now passed: on the morning of that day they had all
attended church, then walked to a pretty, small village on the property,
to visit several of the cottagers; Mr. Howard having, the day before,
sent money and a supply of blankets and of coats to those that required
such assistance. In the evening a mutual exchange of gifts took place at
Woodlands, which greatly interested the young people; but the day was on
the whole a trying one to Leila; she had not regained her former
spirits, and it seemed as if those particular days to which she had
looked forward with the most pleasure, seemed still more to recall the
memory of her late trial. A short time after Christmas, the expected
party assembled at Woodlands. The Selbys were the first to arrive.
Captain Selby was delighted to see again his little fairy queen, as he
called Leila. Louisa seemed improved, taller, and with more animation of
manner; and the meeting between Leila and her was most affectionate on
both sides. Louisa was soon taken to the conservatory, followed by
Selina and Matilda; Louisa stealing many a look at Selina, who had long
been a subject of much interest to her, though not unmixed with dread,
lest she should too entirely usurp her former place with Leila; but the
kind reception she met with greatly reassured her. She struggled with
her natural timidity, and Matilda did much to establish something like
ease between the parties: she eagerly introduced Louisa to all her
former favourites amongst the pets; and seemed most anxious to draw her
attention to one of the parrots in particular.
“How this one must have grown,” Louisa observed; “I scarcely remember
it: what a pretty bird!”
The parrot instantly flew to the side of its cage, exclaiming, “I am
Louisa’s pretty bird, take me home--pray take me home!”
Matilda clapped her hands. “That is just what I wanted it to do--yes, it
is for you; Leila has taught it to say that--it is to be your parrot.”
Louisa was still holding Leila’s hand, and trying to thank her, when
Leila was called away. The Herberts had arrived. She found Mina eagerly
watching for her at the drawing-room door, all her usual shyness having
given way before the interest of the moment. The meeting between them
was of the most affectionate nature; but no one till that moment had
suspected the depth of feeling with which Leila had looked forward to
seeing Mrs. Herbert again. “Mamma, mamma!” she exclaimed, as clasped in
Mrs. Herbert’s arms, she hid her face on her shoulder, and struggled to
retain her tears. Mrs. Herbert was much affected, and no real mother
could have more fondly returned her caresses; but seeing the struggle
Leila was making to restrain her emotion, she called her son Charles to
her side, and putting Leila’s hand in his, she said with a cheerful
voice,--
“I must not forget my dear child has also a brother to receive, who
longs to know her.”
But Leila was disappointed; Charles was not such as she had expected to
have seen, and looking up in his face she said hastily, “You are too
tall to be my brother.”
The bright, sparkling look of pleasure with which he had approached to
meet her, faded before this reception; he too was disappointed, but he
only said with much gentleness, “That is a fault I cannot change; I can
only try to make you forget it.”
And he did manage to do so in a wonderfully short space of time, for he
had a good deal to overcome. Leila had expected to have seen a little
boy such as Alfred, and had been thinking a great deal of her little
brother, and how she would watch over him, and keep him out of scrapes;
she was quite bewildered when she saw before her a youth apparently
about sixteen, and it was not in the first moments of disappointment,
that his slight graceful figure, his beaming countenance, and deep blue
eyes, so full of sweetness and animation, had any charm for her; but
before the day was over she had told Mina in strict confidence, that she
did not think Charles nearly so tall as she had done at first, and that
she did not know why it was, but she was not half so frightened for him
as she expected she would have been; and the pleasant surprise of next
morning still further promoted intimacy between them. Leila was called
to the window by Selina to admire a beautiful small Arabian pony, which
Charles was leading up the approach towards the house; the side-saddle
and embroidered saddle-cloth seemed to say it was intended for a lady’s
use; and what was Leila’s astonishment and delight, when she found it
was a present from Mr. and Mrs. Herbert to herself; the beautiful
saddle-cloth the work of Mrs. Herbert and Mina. Leila had no words to
express what she felt; for to learn to ride, to have a pony of her own,
to accompany her papa in his rides, had long been the earnest wish of
her heart. Charles was immediately constituted riding-master to the
whole of the young party; a busy time he had, and with strict
impartiality did he fulfil his appointed duty; one point of difference
only did he insist on, he particularly requested that Leila alone was to
speak to the pony and caress it, and it was only to be from her hand it
was to receive a piece of bread on the commencement of its daily
labours, and also at their close. Selina had communicated to Charles the
sad story of Peggy Dobie and the faithful Dash; of all Leila had
suffered, and was still suffering, from their loss; and he felt that
could she become attached to a new object, it might in some degree
interest her mind: but though Leila soon became fond of her pretty
Selim, no new favourite could fill Dash’s place to her; _he_ could never
be forgotten.
Many days passed pleasantly away, varied by rides, and walks, and
reading aloud. In the evening there generally was music. Mrs. Herbert
had a fine voice, which had been much cultivated, and Charles and Mina
did great credit to her instructions; the young people thought there
could be nothing more beautiful than the trios Charles and Mina sang
with their mamma Mrs. Herbert had proposed to have a singing class, and
to instruct the whole group; but Leila alone had become her pupil.
Louisa had very little genius for music; so little, that her mamma did
not wish her to give much time to its cultivation. Selina had been
forbidden to attempt singing for some years, her voice, even in
speaking, being still weak; and Matilda, Mrs. Stanley said, was, from
her habits of inattention, too far back in more necessary studies to be
allowed this indulgence.
Leila made considerable progress; from her having practised the guitar
so much during her residence on the island, she had acquired rather
unusual proficiency on that instrument, and her voice and taste being
naturally good, Mrs. Herbert found her both a willing and a successful
pupil. Matilda had often entreated her mamma to allow her also to learn
the guitar, for Matilda was ever eager for something new, always sure
that what she had no knowledge of would be much more easily acquired
than that which she was then studying; but Mrs. Stanley had always
steadily refused this request, though, at the same time, assuring
Matilda that, as soon as by steady and continued application, she had
made that progress in her other studies which her years and natural good
abilities admitted of, she should have every indulgence in the
cultivation of her musical taste. It had been quite a trial to Matilda
when first told that she was not to be allowed to take advantage of Mrs.
Herbert’s kind offer of instruction; and her temper had been on the
point of giving way, but a look of entreaty from Selina had arrested the
angry words upon her lips; she had hastily quitted the room, and in a
very few minutes had returned with all her usual liveliness and
good-humour.
Mrs. Herbert had considerably regained her health and spirits, and with
the tranquil gentleness of past sorrow there was a warmth of affection
and winning sweetness of manner which each day endeared her more and
more to Leila, who never was happier than when, with her own transparent
openness of character, she was pouring all her thoughts, feelings, and
wishes into Mrs. Herbert’s willing ear.
“I have never told you,” she said one morning, as they sat alone
together, (she on a low stool looking up into Mrs. Herbert’s face,) “I
have never told you how very sorry I was afterwards for having made that
rude speech to Charles when I first saw him; but I was so very much
disappointed, I could not help saying it; I had been thinking so much of
having a little brother, and of how kind I should be to him, and how he
would grow up to love me. And when I saw that tall Charles, I could
scarcely keep from crying, for since my great trial of poor Peggy Dobie,
and my dear, dear Dash, I don’t know why it is, but so often I am ready
to cry when any thing like another trial comes to me--but this has not
turned out a trial after all.”
“So you are getting reconciled then, my love, to Charles being tall, and
don’t wish so much now that you had a little brother rather?”
“No, indeed I don’t--I like it much better; for Charles is so kind, and
takes such care of me, and he is so fond of Mina; he is an excellent
brother; and don’t you think he is an excellent son too? He often looks
at you just as I do at my papa. I am sure he is thinking then that you
never can know how much he loves you. I dare say Charles never does any
thing very wrong; only a little wrong, I suppose, for papa always says
no one is quite perfect.”
Mrs. Herbert smiled. “No, my dear Leila, I do not say Charles is by any
means perfect; he has faults, still I may say that he is one who has
never yet given us cause for serious uneasiness.
“I was sure of that,” Leila answered, “for he always looks as if he
could not bear to vex any one; I often wish to ask him to forgive me for
what I said: but I don’t know why, I often feel a little shy with
Charles, though I like so much to talk to him. I hope it will go off in
time, for I should like to be able to tell him every thing I think, just
as I do to you; if he had been a little boy I would not have cared to do
this, I would only have said little things to make him laugh and to
amuse him; so, as Nurse always says, every thing in this world turns out
for the best, if we would only remember this, and not fret. But,” she
continued, “when I said just now that I told you every thing, I forgot
that there is one thing I cannot tell you.”
“And what is that?” Mrs. Herbert inquired. “Why should you be afraid to
tell me every thing?”
“I am not afraid,” Leila answered; “but it is not the right time yet to
tell. Perhaps I shall be disappointed myself, and then I need not tell
you, for it would only make you sorry; but if it comes up it is for you.
Now I must go to the conservatory; I go there every morning alone, but
don’t ask me why I go.”
Leila stood in the conservatory, earnestly contemplating a flower-pot
she held in her hand, till startled by a voice behind her.
“How now, lady bright, gazing on brown earth, and so many beautiful
blooming flowers around you?”
She looked up; it was Charles who had entered the conservatory
unobserved, and was bending over her shoulder.
“Oh, Charles,” she said, “I am so happy, so very happy; so thankful.”
“Thankful,” he replied; “thankful for small things indeed, for I can see
nothing.”
“Nothing! look again, Charles; only look here--don’t you see?”
“No, I see nothing, and unluckily I have not got my spectacles at hand.”
But observing Leila’s heightened colour, and the expression of her face,
he added in quite a different tone, “Yes, I do see two tiny little green
leaves just peeping above the brown earth; but they will require all
your tender care to rear them. Why are they so precious to you, Leila?
But do not tell me if you would rather not.”
She lifted her eyes to his face. “Yes, I should like to tell you--” she
hesitated, then continued in an agitated voice, “it is seeds from the
flower I planted on Clara’s grave, and perhaps more will spring.”
Charles’s colour mounted to his forehead; he took her hand. “Oh, Leila,”
he said, “dear Leila, how I have longed for this moment, how I have
wished you to talk to me of Clara. Clara, my own sweet sister, my lost
Clara; I seem to see her still, how lovely she was!”
“You knew her then,” Leila said eagerly; “you remember her; but
how--were you not in England?”
“No; from our being up the country and in a good climate, I was nearly
ten years old before it was thought necessary to send me to England;
never can I forget the first time I saw Clara. I was taken into the room
where mamma was lying on her bed, so pale, so beautiful, only the
slightest tinge of colour in her cheek. Clara and Mina lay on each side
of her; she took my hand, a bright flush came into her face for a
moment, ‘My little son,’ she said, ‘may God watch over you and preserve
you to be a protector to your sisters; if these dear ones live to be
sent home to England, you will be already there. Promise me that when
you are together, you will watch over them, and always endeavour by your
own example to teach them to love and serve their heavenly Father. May
you never, dear Charles, forget this moment; may my earnest request be
always remembered, when you yourself are tempted to do what is wrong.”
“And were you sent away from them immediately?” Leila inquired. “How
melancholy this must have been for you!”
“Oh no, not immediately; Clara and Mina were three years old before I
left India. They could talk and run about. In the cool season I used to
make them run races in the garden with each other. They often laughed so
at my constantly mistaking one for the other, for I never could
distinguish them, till mamma put a small gold chain round Clara’s neck.”
“Was it this?” Leila said, as she took a chain from the folds of her
dress, and gave it into his hand.
“Yes, the very same; but there was no locket suspended from it.”
Leila touched the spring, it opened.
“My own mamma,” he said, “and how beautiful! and those laughing
eyes--yes, I remember how she used to look in that way, when she was
playing with us all. And this was Clara’s locket--my own dear sister,
and now, alas! only one remains to me.”
Leila coloured. “Then you will not have me for a sister,” she said, in a
low-toned voice.
Charles’s countenance brightened, as in his usual lively manner he said,
“I thought I was too tall to be your brother.”
“Oh, don’t, don’t say that,” Leila exclaimed; “you don’t know how sorry
I was afterwards, and how often I have wished to ask you to forgive me.
Will you?” and she put her hand into his. “Yes, I see you will, I see it
in your eyes. I always know when people are loving me again by their
eyes.” Selina’s voice was heard calling her; she ran off, but returned
for a moment to say, “Do not tell mamma about the seeds; it is to be a
surprise to her. I have planted four, and if more spring, I should like
so much to give you one also.”