In all the homes of the Dinsmore connection Sunday was always a
peacefully quiet day--kept as a sacred time of rest from toil and
worldly cares and pleasures.
The quiet and leisure for thought were particularly grateful to Grandma
Elsie, in her pleasant home at Ion, on this last Sunday of the old year.
She had enjoyed having her friends about her and seeing the hilarity of
the children and youth. She was still youthful in her feelings and full
of an ever ready sympathy with the young, none of whom could know
without loving her, while to all who could claim kin with
her--especially her children and grandchildren, she was an object of
devoted affection; affection fully reciprocated by her.
And so the frequent reunions at Ion were a source of delight to both her
and them.
Yet there were times when her spirit craved exclusive companionship with
her nearest and dearest; other seasons when she would be alone with Him
whom her "soul desired above all earthly joy and earthly love."
An hour had been spent in secret communion with Him ere Rosie and
Walter came for the half hour of Bible study and prayer in mamma's
dressing room, before breakfast, to which they had been accustomed since
their earliest recollection.
And not they only but their older brothers and sisters before them,
every one of whom had very tender memories connected with that short
service; memories that had been a safeguard to them in times of
temptation, a comfort and support in the dark hours that sooner or later
come to all the sons and daughters of Adam, and made them feel it even
yet a privilege to participate, when circumstances would permit.
Sometimes Edward and Zoe joined the little circle, and Harold and
Herbert seldom failed to do so when at home. They all did so this
morning and with an enjoyment that made the allotted time seem far too
short.
Their mother had always been able to interest her children in Bible
lessons.
Breakfast and family worship followed; then attendance upon the morning
service of the sanctuary.
After that Sunday school for the blacks in the school house on the
estate, the mother and all her children acting as teachers.
The afternoon and evening were given to reading, conversation and music
suited to the sacredness of the day; then all retired to peaceful
slumbers, from which they rose in the morning rested and refreshed in
body and mind, and ready to enter with zest upon the labors and
pleasures of the new week.
According to the arrangements made the previous week the whole Ion
family, and all who had been guests there at that time, repaired to
Fairview at an early hour, where they spent the day together in social
festivities similar to those with which they had enlivened their stay
with Grandma Elsie.
Harold and Herbert gave a magic lantern exhibition, some charades were
acted, and Cousin Ronald contrived to add not a little to the fun by
timely efforts in his own peculiar line; the very little ones were
delighted to hear their toy dogs bark, roosters crow, hens and geese
cackle, ducks quack, horses neigh and donkeys bray.
They could hardly believe that the sounds which seemed to come from the
mouths of the toy animals were really made by Cousin Ronald, and when
assured that such was the case, thought him a most wonderful man.
Some of the guests departed that evening, but others remained over
night; among them the Raymonds.
On Tuesday morning they went home to Woodburn taking Grandma Elsie,
Rosie, Walter and Evelyn Leland with them.
Lulu had been sharing Evelyn's room at Fairview, and now was to have the
pleasure of returning the hospitality.
There were some preparations to be made for the entertainment of
to-morrow's guests, and the children were in a flutter of pleasurable
excitement.
I could not tell you how much they enjoyed their share of the planning
and arranging, and the consultations together and with the older people,
or how kindly indulgent the captain was to their wishes and fancies,
never saying them nay when it was within his power to grant their
request.
Evelyn Leland loved to watch Lulu and Grace as they hung affectionately
about their father, giving and receiving caresses and endearments; yet
the sight often brought tears to her eyes--calling up tender memories of
the past. She had not forgotten--she never could forget the dear parent
who had been won't to lavish such caresses and endearments upon her, and
at times her young heart ached with its longing to hear again the sound
of his voice and feel the clasp of his arm, and his kisses upon cheek
and lip and brow.
Yet life was gliding along very peacefully and happily with her,
brightened by the love of kindred and friends, and she could join very
heartily in the diversions and merriment of her companions.
Tea was over, the babies had had their romp with papa, brothers and
sisters, and been carried off to the nursery, leaving the rest of the
family--the guests included--in the pleasant library.
"Well, my dears, it has been a busy day with you," remarked Grandma
Elsie, smiling pleasantly upon the group of children, "but I presume
your preparations for to-morrow's sports are quite completed?"
"Yes, ma'am," said Lulu.
"And we have some very good charades, mamma," said Rosie, "and have
arranged for some nice tableaux."
"New ones?"
"New and old both," answered Rosie and Lulu together. "And oh, Grandma
Elsie, we want another with you in it," added Lulu, with eager entreaty
in her tones.
"And why with me, my dear?" asked Mrs. Travilla, with a pleased little
laugh, "are there not more than enough younger people to take part?"
"Oh there are plenty of us such as we are!" laughed Evelyn, "but we want
all the beautiful people, so that the pictures will be beautiful."
"You are coming out in a new character, Eva--that of an adroit
flatterer," returned Grandma Elsie, with a look of amusement; "but I am
not at all displeased, my dear child, because I credit it entirely to
your affection, which I prize very highly," she hastened to add, seeing
that her words had called up a blush of painful embarrassment on Eva's
usually placid face.
"Grandma Elsie, we all love you dearly," said Lulu, "but you _are_
beautiful. I'm sure everybody thinks so. Don't they, papa?"
"As far as my knowledge goes," he answered, smiling and pinching her
cheek--for as usual she was close at his side--"and indeed I don't know
how any one could think otherwise."
"Mamma will, I'm sure," said Walter, "because we want her to, and she's
always kind."
"Will what?" asked Violet coming in at that moment.
"Be one in a tableau," replied Walter.
"Yes, of course," said Violet. "Oh we'll make a group with mamma,
grandpa, Sister Elsie and her little Ned, and call it a picture of four
generations. If dear old grandpa were with us still we could make it
five."
"A very nice idea, my dear," the captain remarked with a glance of
affectionate admiration at his young wife, as he rose and handed her a
chair; "and I think we must have the group photographed."
"Oh yes, Lester can do it beautifully! We'll send him word to bring his
apparatus with him."
"Yes," said her mother, "and we will ask him to take us all in family
groups. The pictures will be pleasant mementoes of this holiday season."
"Mamma," said Walter, "I think if you would tell us all about all the
New Years days you can remember, it would be a very interesting way of
spending the evening."
"Yes, mamma, we would all be charmed to hear your story," said Violet,
the others chiming in with, "Oh yes, mamma," "Yes, Grandma Elsie, please
do tell it."
"Since you all seem to desire it, I will try," she answered kindly, "but
I fear my reminiscences will hardly deserve the name of story.
"The first Christmas and New Years of which I retain a vivid
remembrance, were those of the first winter after I had made the
acquaintance of my dear father; for, as I believe you all know, I never
saw him till I was eight years old.
"The occurrences of that Christmas are too familiar to most, if not all
of you, to bear repetition."
"And you hadn't at all a nice New Year's that time, mamma," said Rosie,
softly stroking and patting the hand she held, then lifting it to her
lips; for she was sitting on a stool at her mother's feet, while the
others had grouped themselves around her, "suffering so with that
sprained ankle."
"Ah there you are mistaken, my child," Grandma Elsie answered with her
own sweet smile, "for I had a most enjoyable day in spite of the injury
that kept me a prisoner in my room; my father brought me a beautiful
doll-baby, quite as large as some live ones that I have seen, and a
quantity of pretty things to be used in its adornment. My little friends
and I had a merry, happy time cutting out garments and making them up.
"The next Christmas and New Year's Day were spent in our sweet new home
at the Oaks, which my papa had bought and furnished in the mean time.
"My Christmas gifts were beautiful; from papa books and a pearl necklace
and bracelets--now the property of my daughter Rosie"--smiling down at
Rosie as she spoke--"and a ring to match from him who was afterward my
beloved husband; also books from his mother and my Aunt Adelaide. They
were our guests at dinner that day.
"Between breakfast and dinner I had the pleasure of distributing gifts
among the house servants and the negroes at the quarter; then a ride
with papa; and the evening, till my early bedtime, was spent sitting on
his knee."
"But you are going to tell us about that New Year's, too, mamma, aren't
you?" asked Walter, as she paused in her narrative, sitting quietly with
a pensive, far off look in her soft brown eyes.
"Yes," she said, rousing from her reverie, "I remember it was on the day
after Christmas that papa asked me if I was going to make a New Year's
present to each of my little friends.
"Of course I was delighted with the idea, especially as he allowed me
great latitude in regard to the amount to be spent."
"And did he take you to the stores and let yon choose the presents,
Grandma Elsie?" asked Lulu. "That would be half the fun, I think."
"My dear, indulgent father would have done so, had I been able to bear
the fatigue," Grandma Elsie replied, "but at that time I was quite
feeble from a severe illness. He did not think me strong enough to visit
the stores, but ordered goods sent out to the Oaks for me to select
from, which gave me nearly as much enjoyment us I could have found in
going to the city in search of them."
"Did you find gifts to suit, mamma?" queried Walter. "And oh won't you
tell us how many and what they were?"
"Beside the Roselands little people," replied his mother, "there were
Lucy and Herbert Carrington, Carrie Howard, Isabel Carleton, Mary
Leslie, and Flora Arnott to be remembered.
"For the last named, who was also the youngest, I selected a beautiful
wax doll and a complete wardrobe of ready made clothes for it, all
neatly packed in a tiny trunk.
"To Mary Leslie I gave a ring, and to each of the other girls a handsome
bracelet; to Herbert, who was a great reader, a set of handsomely bound
books.
"All these little friends of mine were spending the Christmas holidays
at Pinegrove--the home of the Howards.
"Papa and I had been invited too, but had declined because of my feeble
state. When my gifts were ready I asked him if they should be sent to
Pinegrove.
"'We will see about it,' he answered; 'we have plenty of time; there are
two days yet, and it will not take a messenger half an hour to travel
from here to Pinegrove.'
"So I said no more, for I never was allowed to tease.
"But when New Year's morning came and the presents had not been sent, I
began to feel decidedly uneasy, and papa evidently perceived it; though
neither of us said a word on the subject that was uppermost in my mind.
"Papa had some beautiful books and pictures for me which he gave me
before breakfast, saying he hoped they would help me pass the day
pleasantly; he would be glad to make it the happiest New Year I had
known yet.
"He smiled tenderly upon me as he said it, then held me close in his
arms and kissed me over and over again; and I returned his kisses,
putting my arms about his neck and hugging him as tight as I could.
"After that we had breakfast and family worship, and then he took me on
his knee again and asked how I would like to spend the day?
"I answered that I would be glad to have a drive if he did not think it
too cold. He said he thought it was not if I were well wrapped up.
"There was no snow to make sleighing, so the carriage was ordered, I was
bundled up in furs, and we drove several miles.
"As we were about starting I ventured to ask, 'Papa, haven't you
forgotten to send my presents to Pinegrove?' He smiled and said, 'No, my
darling,' in a very pleasant tone, but that was all, and when we came
back I noticed that the presents were still in a closet in my dressing
room where they had lain ever since they were bought.
"I was quite puzzled to understand it, but I asked no questions.
"Mammy arranged my hair and dress, and I went back to the parlor where
papa was sitting reading. He laid aside his book as soon as I entered
the room, took me on his knee, and began telling me funny stories that
kept me laughing till a carriage drove up to the door.
"'There, some one has come!' he said; 'it seems we are not to spend the
day alone after all.'
"Then in another minute or two, the door opened and in came my six
little friends for whom I had bought the presents."
Grace clapped her hands in delight. "Oh how nice! and didn't you have a
good time, Grandma Elsie?"
"Yes, very; they had all come to spend the day; I had the pleasure of
presenting my gifts in person and of seeing that they were fully
appreciated; we played quiet games and papa told us lovely stories.
There was no fretting or quarrelling, everybody was in high good humor,
and when the time came to separate, my guests all bade good bye, saying,
'they had never had a more enjoyable day.'"
"Now please tell about the next Christmas and New Year's, mamma," urged
Walter, as she paused, as though feeling that her tale was ended.
"Let mamma have time to breathe and to think what comes next, Walter,"
said Rosie. "Don't you see that's what she is doing?"
"I am thinking of those little friends of mine," sighed their mother;
"asking myself 'Where are they now?' Ah what changes life brings! how
short and hasty it is, and how soon it will be over! I mean the life in
this world.
"It is likened in the Bible to a pilgrimage, a tale that is told, a
flower that soon withers or is cut down by the mower's scythe, a dream,
a sleep, a vapor, a shadow, a handbreadth; a thread cut by the weaver."
"Mamma, are those friends of yours all dead?" asked Walter.
"I will tell you about them," she answered. "Herbert Carrington died
young--he was barely sixteen."
With the words a look of pain swept across the still fair, sweet face of
the speaker, and she paused for a moment as if almost overcome by some
sad recollection.
Violet, who had heard the story from Grandma Rose, understood it.
"Mamma, dear," she said softly, "what a happy thing it was for him--poor
sufferer that he was--to be taken so early to the Father's house on high
where pain and sin and sorrow are unknown!"
"Yes," returned her mother, furtively wiping away a tear, "and calling
to mind the dreadful scenes of the war that followed some years later,
and the sore trials that resulted in the Carrington family--I feel that
he was taken away from the evil to come.
"Of the others forming that little company Flora Arnott too died young.
Mary Leslie married and moved away, and I have lost sight of her for
many years. Carrie Howard lived to become a wife and mother, but was
called away from earth years ago. The same words would tell Isabel
Carleton's story.
"Lucy Carrington and I are the only ones left, and she, like myself, has
children and grandchildren. I hear from her now and then, and we meet
occasionally when I go North or she pays a visit to the old home at
Ashlands."
"Mrs. Ross," said Rosie half in assertion, half inquiringly.
"Yes, that is her married name."
"And Aunt Sophy who lives at Ashlands now, is--"
"The widow of Lucy's older brother Harry, and also your Grandma Rose's
sister; as you all know."
"Mamma," said Walter, "you didn't mention Grandma Rose at all in telling
your story of that Christmas and New Year's. Wasn't she there?"
"No, my son; my father--your grandpa--and I were living alone together
at that time. The next summer we went North, and while there visited at
Elmgrove, Mr. Allison's country seat, which gave papa and Miss Rose an
opportunity to become quite well acquainted.
"I had known and loved Miss Rose before, and was very glad when papa
told me she had consented to become his wife and my mother.
"They were married in the fall and when we returned to the Oaks she was
with us.
"That made my next Christmas and New Year still happier than the last,
and when yet another came round my treasures had been increased in
number by the advent of a darling little brother."
"Uncle Horace," said Walter. "Mamma, were you very glad when God gave
him to you?"
"Indeed I was!" she answered with a smile. "I had never had a brother or
sister and had often been hungry for one.
"And he has always been a dear, loving brother to me," she went on, "and
your Aunt Rose, who came to us while we were in Europe some eight years
later, as sweet a sister as any one could desire."
"But about those holidays, mamma, the first when you had a brother?"
persisted Walter; "aren't you going to tell about them?"
"Yes," she answered; "it was a particularly enjoyable time, for we had
our cousins--Mildred and Annis Keith--with us. Mildred, though, had
become Mrs. Landreth, and had her husband and baby boy with her.
"Annis was a dear, lovable little girl just about my own age. They spent
the winter at the Oaks, Annis sharing both my studies and my sports. We
had a Christmas party, our guests remaining through the rest of the
week."
"Oh mamma, do please go on and tell the whole story of that Christmas,
and all the good times you had that winter," pleaded Rosie. "I have
always enjoyed it so much, and I'm sure Eva and Lulu and Gracie will."
Rosie's request was seconded by several other voices in the little
crowd, and Grandma Elsie, ever willing to give pleasure, kindly
complied.
But as my young readers have already had the story in Mildred's Married
Life, I shall not repeat it here. Suffice it to say it seemed to greatly
interest all her listeners, and Lulu gathered from it a far different
impression of Mr. Dinsmore, as a father, from that she had derived from
tales told her by some of the old servants in the family connection.
They had given her the idea that he was exceedingly stern and
tyrannical, but his daughter painted him as a most loving and indulgent
parent. Mayhap the truth lay somewhere between the two pictures, for as
he himself had often said, Elsie was ever won't to look upon him through
rose colored glasses.
"You did have a very nice time, Grandma Elsie! I could almost wish I'd
been in your place," exclaimed Lulu, when the tale had come to an end.
"But no I don't, either, for then I couldn't be my father's child,"
putting her arm round the captain's neck and laying her cheek to his,
"and to belong to him is better than anything else!"
"My little Lulu being the judge," laughed the captain, tightening the
clasp of his arm about her waist.
"Or any other of your children, papa," added Grace from her seat on his
knee, affectionately stroking his face with her small white hand as she
spoke. "Grandma Elsie, won't you please go on and tell about other
Christmases that you remember?"
"I think, my dear, I have done my full share of story telling for one
evening," replied Mrs. Travilla pleasantly. "It is your father's turn
now, as the next in age. Captain, will you not favor us with some of
your reminiscences of former holiday experiences? or of something else
if you prefer. I know you are a famous story teller."
"Oh yes, captain!" "Oh yes, papa do, please," urged the others.
"Some other time, perhaps," he said. "Do you know how late it is? time
to call the servants in to prayers, and then for the little folks to
seek their nests. Max, my son, ring the bell."
"Then you don't mean to let us stay up to watch the old year out and the
new year in, papa?" queried the lad, as he rose and obeyed the order.
"Hardly," his father answered with a slight smile; "You are all too
young to be allowed to lose so large a portion of your night's rest. To
do so would spoil all the anticipated pleasure of to-morrow."
"Then I am sure we don't want to, captain," said Evelyn, "for we are
looking forward to a great deal of pleasure."