A HAPPY NEW YEAR.
"A Happy New Year! A Happy New Year!" is on every tongue, and how
exhilarating is the cry uttered by thousands. From the weakly voice of
our aged loved ones, to the bird-like notes of the wee children,
mingling with the merry sleigh-bells, do our politicians take up the
refrain; and our manly men, and ambitious women, sing out in various
chords, as they swarm to the polls, "A Happy New Year! A Happy New
Year!"
And Old Boreas takes up the refrain, and blows till his cheeks crack,
down Yonge street, from his northern realm. Yea, forty miles distant,
does he send his cold breath. A Happy New Year! A Happy New Year.
And our young men and maidens, our girls and our boys, laugh till the
air rings. Hurrah for the north wind, we'll go to the Granite and have a
good skate.
And one gathers from the merry medley that our King Coal, and the
_Sentinel_, are this year's favorites; but those who have put money up,
and those who have not, must even wait with bated breath till midnight,
or till dawn; and in dreamland, see their pet schemes forwarded, their
own man in the Mayor's chair.
It was a busy day at Holmnest, a bee-hive with no drones, by eleven a.m.
Mrs. Gower has polled her vote; afterwards, with Miss Crew, drove
through snow-mantled Rosedale, down villa-lined Jarvis street, through
those stores of wealth, Yonge and King streets, along the margin of the
silver lake, ere turning the horses' heads to the north-west and
Holmnest; visiting, also, some of the poorer streets, in which quarters
Miss Crew has found God's poor, many cases having touched her heart, she
now leaves little parcels of good things to gladden these homes.
"You will become bankrupt, Miss Crew," said Mrs. Gower, as they are
driven home.
"I am almost so, now; and if it will not bother you, I should like to
tell you of a plan I have in view."
"Bother me? I should say not. You should know I take too much interest
in you for that." "Thank you; some connections, until recently, have
remitted to me a sum amply sufficient for my needs; I know not why," she
said, in troubled tones, "they have discontinued it; but they have, and
it remains for me to face the difficulty, now that Garfield has outgrown
my tuition, I cannot remain dependent on the Dale's kindness; and of Mr.
Dale's generous, good treatment of me, a stranger, I cannot say too
much; but I must exert myself to get a new situation," she said,
nervously. "And will you, dear Mrs. Gower, do what you can in advising
me; I have been looking in the newspapers, but have seen nothing
suitable."
"Excuse me, Miss Crew, but are you entitled by law to receive this
remittance you speak of? if so, you should not quietly relinquish it,
but should consult a lawyer. We, at Toronto, are blessed with several
honest, as well as clever, law firms. I will accompany you readily, or
do anything I can for you."
"You are very kind, but I shrink from lawyers, they ask so many
questions," she said, timidly.
"You must not mind that, dear; if you were ill, what would you do, send
for a medical man? and the more questions he asked, the better he would
understand your case."
"I wish I was braver; but I am only a girl, and have had much trouble,
which has made me very nervous and timid."
For one so extremely reticent, this was quite a confidence.
"Yes, it would have that effect on one of your temperament; but with me,
my troubles have made me more self-reliant; finding few to trust, I have
leaned on myself."
"Yes, you seem to me very brave; but don't you think I should advertise
for a situation at once?"
"No, decidedly not. You should ask Mr. Dale to advise, and I shall be
very pleased to have you with me all winter."
"How very kind you are, Mrs. Gower," and the tears came to her eyes,
"but I should be more satisfied, adding to my purse."
"Very well, dear; I commend your decision, but remember the bedroom you
occupy is Miss Crew's own, and your little home-nest will be ever ready
for you; but do not forget my advice, which is to confide in Mr. Dale,
fully and entirely; he can, and will, give you the very best advice."
"Oh, I don't see how I can. If you only knew; but how selfish I am,
spoiling your drive, and on New Year's Day, too."
Here a small sleigh, in which were seated a comfortable-looking couple;
the man a mass of grey tints--complexion, hair, whiskers, overcoat, and
fur cap--looking like a man who had led a sedentary life; the woman,
fresh of color, partly bent by the breath of old Boreas, both looking
quietly happy, but so intent on turning their heads, as if on a pivot,
first on this side, now on that, as they drove down handsome Saint
George street, as to be oblivious of the approach of the sleigh in which
were seated Mrs. Gower and Miss Crew.
"Look out, there," shouted the driver. At this, the man, giving his
whole attention to his horse, turned him out of the way just in time to
save a collision; the woman, as they passed, looking at the occupants.
She gave a great cry to stop them, but the driver had given his horses
the whip, and on they dashed. Miss Crew had leaned forward, pale as
death, her lips blue and parted, she tried to frame the word, "Stop,"
but failed. Mrs. Gower, in sympathy, defining her meaning, cried:
"Stop, driver, please."
On his doing so:
"Is the sleigh we just passed out of sight?"
"No, ma'am; the gentleman has turned, and is a following of us. Would
you, ladies, like a New Year's race? if so, I'm your man," he said,
grinning.
But Miss Crew, white as the snow, and looking whiter by contrast with
the pretty red hat, has leaped out of the cutter.
"My dog-skin coat is very warm, Mrs. Gower; don't wait; I must speak to
them," she said, in the greatest excitement, her eyes glistening, her
color coming and going.
"But you will take cold, dear; get in beside me again until they come
up."
"No, no, I beg; I wish to meet them _alone_," she whispered.
"On one condition; are they friends?"
"Yes; oh, yes, she is one of my best."
Mrs. Gower, seeing them almost close, wishing her an affectionate
good-bye, bade the man drive on, and, as was natural, fell into a
reverie over the strange occurrence happening to a girl of Miss Crew's
remarkably reticent character. She seemed pleased, but so intensely
excited, one could scarcely tell her real feelings. She thought, "But I
sincerely hope it will be a bright incident for her to begin 1888 with;
for a more truly pious, gentle, amiable girl I have never met."
On the driver drawing in his horses, to allow a gentlemanly-looking man
to pass, who was crossing Bloor West, at the head of St. George street,
Mrs. Gower waking from her reverie, sees Mr. Buckingham.
"The compliments of the season, Mrs. Gower," he said, lifting his hat.
"The same to you. Whither bound?"
"To Holmnest."
"Then you had better come into the sleigh; 'there's room enough for
twa.'"
"Thanks; with pleasure."
"Driver, you see the young lady ahead of us. I expect she is coming to
my place. Just pick her up, please."
"All right, ma'am."
"I suppose you will think our sleighing a make-believe, after Lindsay,
and locality."
"You will be surprised to hear I now come from New York. Dale
telegraphed me to meet some railway men, so I have been there ever
since."
"But won't your interests north-east suffer by your absence?"
"Oh, not materially, I hope; still I am anxious to be on the spot. There
is a splendid mine out that way I should like to get hold of."
"Iron, I suppose?"
"Oh, yes; it is, you know, to be the great industry of the future."
"But you only mean if we get Commercial Union?"
"Yes, as far as Canada is concerned."
"What is the name of this special mine you covet? I have heard Mr. Dale
speak of several; this may be one."
"It is the Snowden, in Victoria county; the ore is a fine grained
magnetite; the mine is favorably situated, having a railway running into
it."
"Indeed! all very favorable; do you think you will succeed in becoming a
purchaser?"
"Of that, I regret to say, I am somewhat doubtful, as I am told there
are several obstructionists connected with it; but I am not going to
worry about it," he said, quietly; "if I don't get it, there are
others."
"What an easy temperament you have," she said, looking into his quiet
unmoved countenance.
"My dear Mrs. Gower, I hold that a man should have himself under such
perfect control as to be able to look at himself, in a manner of
speaking, with other eyes; sit in judgment upon himself; dissect his
motives, reward or punish. I look upon one who lets loose the reins of
reason, giving blind passion or impulse full swing, as only an animal of
the swine family, whatever his name may be," he said, smiling.
"What must he think of me," she thought; I am as impulsive as a Celt.
"What a superior race of beings man would be were his convictions your
convictions."
"I think he would be happier, for he would not give way to excitement,
which is, in my opinion, a sort of insanity; and also in its reaction,
which is melancholy."
"That reaction, after excitement, is one of the strongest blue ribbon
arguments; we had a 'chalk talk' thereon at the Pavilion on last Sunday
afternoon; what do you think of the Prohibition movement?"
"I go with it, to the letter, for the mass of humanity cannot, or will
not, control themselves; how do you go?"
"I believe in temperance in all things. Professor Blackie says, 'We have
too much of everything in our day; too much eating, too much drinking,
too much preaching, etc;' and I am so far at one with him, that I
believe in temperance, and coffee, even on New Year's Day," she added,
smiling. "Stop, driver, please."
"Come, get in, Miss O'Sullivan, and a Happy New Year to you, dear; this
is my friend, Mr. Buckingham."
"I was on my way to your place, Mrs. Gower, to ask Miss Crew to come and
spend the day."
"She is out with some friends; but you must lunch with me, and wait for
her."
"Whose is that large, hospitable house, Mrs. Gower, at the head of St.
George Street?" asked Miss O'Sullivan.
"A Colonel Sweeney's, dear, who, I was going to say, has a heart as
large as his house, he is so kindly hospitable."
Here they overtook Mr. Blair, whose handsome face lit with pleasure, as
he lifted his hat; and, somehow, Mrs. Gower was glad of the advent of
the young lady, though, before seeing him, she had not minded her
_tete-a-tete_ with Mr. Buckingham, with whom she likes to talk.
In a few minutes Holmnest is reached, when Mrs. Gower, telling Mr.
Buckingham to make himself at home, he must stay for luncheon, and until
it is time to take the Midland rail, went upstairs to make her toilette
for the day.
Mr. Buckingham looks and feels at home ensconced in a deep, softly
padded chair, near the blazing grate, in the restful library; he is soon
lost in the _Iron Age_.
On Miss O'Sullivan, a sweet-faced, blue-eyed girl, entering, looking
bright as the morning in her pretty red woollen frock, the occupant,
with the innate courtesy of his countrymen, laying aside his newspaper,
adapted himself to her girlish chit-chat in a manner that charmed her,
until the entrance of Mrs. Gower, in a very becoming gown of brown silk,
with old gold plush trimming, ecru lace chemisette, and elbow
sleeves--for she dressed for all day, and any friends who may come to
wish her a glad New Year; she first goes to the kitchen to see that the
machinery is actively in motion, as she had set it before going to the
polls; one servant maid, with the boy, Thomas, being sufficient for the
requirements of her cosy little home.
"Well, you both do look comfortable," she said, entering the library.
"Yes; I think we do," said Miss O'Sullivan.
"We only want you to want nothing more," he said, in pleased tones,
placing a rattan chair, with its dark green velvet cushioned back and
seat, and turning the fire screen to protect her face.
"Not yet, thanks; my poor palms have had no water to-day. How do you
think my plants are looking, Mr. Buckingham?"
"Very fine; but if you kept them more moist they would do still better;
but most amateur gardeners make a like mistake," he said, cutting some
bits of scarlet geranium; "this bit of color will make your costume
perfect."
"The costume! but what about the woman?"
"Oh, the woman knows right well," he said, leading her to the mirror.
"Give me the good taste of an American gentleman, in preference to a
mirror, which is frequently untrue."
"Luncheon is served, ma'am."