MARTHA FINLEY Ultimate Collection – Timeless Children Classics & Other Novels. Finley Martha
thank you, I should like it dearly, it is such a lovely day. But how soon do you start?"
"As soon as the ladies can be ready. The horses will be at the door in a very few moments."
"Ah! then I must go and prepare," she said, rising and sailing out of the room.
Mr. Dinsmore took the seat she had vacated, and, passing his arm round his little girl, said to her in an undertone, "My little daughter must not 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 perhaps intending to be exactly untruthful, say a great deal that they really do not mean. And I should be sorry, indeed, to see my little girl so spoiled by all this silly flattery as to grow up conceited and vain."
She looked at him with her own sweet innocent smile, free from the slightest 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 is vain;' and in another place, 'He that flattereth his neighbor spreadeth a net for his feet.' So I will try to keep away from that lady; shall I not, papa?"
"Whenever you can do so without rudeness, daughter;" and he moved away, thinking to himself, "How strangely the teachings of that book seem to preserve my child from every evil influence."
A sigh escaped him. There was lurking within his breast a vague consciousness 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're bringing up the horses. And see, there's Miss Adelaide in her riding-dress and cap; how pretty she looks! And there's that Miss Stevens coming out now; hateful thing! I can't bear her! Come, Elsie and Carry!"
And she ran out, Caroline and Elsie following. Elsie, however, went no further 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 round me. Papa says it is too cold for me to be out in the wind to-day with my 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 pleasant but 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 was going 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 you know 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 hour or two, and set her down.
The little girls watched until the last of the party had disappeared down the avenue, and then ran gayly up-stairs to Elsie's room, where they busied themselves until tea-time in various little preparations for the evening, such as dressing dolls, and tying up bundles of confectionery, etc., to be hung upon the Christmas-tree.
The children had all noticed that the doors of a parlor opening into the drawing-room had been closed since morning to all but a favored few, who passed in and out, with an air of mystery and importance, and generally laden with some odd-looking bundle when going in, which they invariably left behind on coming out again, and many a whispered consultation 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 shook their heads wisely when questioned.
But at length tea being over, and all, both old and young, assembled as if by common consent in the drawing-room, it began to be whispered about that their curiosity was now on the point of being gratified.
All were immediately on the qui vive, and every face brightened with mirth and expectation; and when, a moment after, the doors were thrown open, 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 and bonbons, interspersed with many a richer and more costly gift, made quite a display.
"Beautiful! beautiful!" cried the children, clapping their hands and dancing about with delight, while their elders, perhaps equally pleased, expressed their admiration after a more staid and sober fashion. When they thought their handiwork had been sufficiently admired, Mrs. Dinsmore and Adelaide approached the tree and began the pleasant 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 had several pretty presents. Mary Leslie and little Flora Arnott were made perfectly happy with wax dolls that could open and shut their eyes; Caroline Howard received a gold chain from her mamma, and a pretty pin from Elsie; Lucy, a set of coral ornaments, besides several smaller presents; and others were equally fortunate. All was mirth and hilarity; 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 little larger than hers.
Elsie had already received a pretty bracelet from her Aunt Adelaide, a needle-case from Lora, and several little gifts from her young guests, and was just beginning to wonder what had become of her papa's promised present, when she heard her name again, and Adelaide, turning to her with a pleased look, slipped a most beautiful diamond ring on her finger.
"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 amused spectator 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 on the 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; is there not?" he asked, looking searchingly into her face.
"Dear papa, I like it very much; I would rather have it than anything else on the tree."
"Still you have not answered my question," he said, with a smile, as he sat down and drew her to his side, adding in a playful tone, "Come, I am not going to put up with any evasion; tell me truly if you would have preferred something else, and if so, what it is."
Elsie blushed and looked down; then raising her eyes, and seeing with what a tender, loving glance he was regarding her, she took courage to say, "Yes papa, there is one thing I would have liked better, and that is your miniature."
To her surprise he looked highly pleased at her reply, and giving her another kiss, said, "Well, darling, some day you shall have it."
"Mr. Horace Dinsmore," called Adelaide, taking some small, glittering object 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 none had seemed to give him half the pleasure that this did when he saw that it was labelled, "From his little daughter."
It was only a gold pencil. The miniature—with which the artist had succeeded so well that nothing could have been prettier except the original herself—she had reserved to be given in another way.
"Do you like it, papa?" she asked, her face glowing with delight to see how pleased he was.
"Yes, darling, very much; and I shall always think of my little girl when 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