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.”