"Aye, indeed he did; he never could be easy a minute without her. It was a sore day for my poor bairn, when it pleased G.o.d to take her father; poor man! But He knows best, Bridget, and He orders all things right."

Here Mammy was summoned by the bell, and despatched to bring little Agnes down; to accompany her aunt and cousins to their home.

As Agnes was riding along, seated so comfortably by the side of her kind aunt, in the large covered sleigh, with the rosy, smiling faces of her little cousins, Grace and Effie, opposite her, she could scarcely believe that she was the same little girl, who, but an hour or two before, was walking so sadly up and down the desolate North Room, and trying to persuade herself that she was "not alone." Agnes was naturally of a lively, cheerful disposition, and like any other little girl of six years of age, she soon forgot past sorrow in present pleasure, though, at times, the sudden remembrance of her dear little baby brother, lying so ill at home, would cause a sigh to chase away the smile of pleasure beaming on her lovely face.

It was but little more than two miles from "The Hemlocks," Mrs. Elwyn's residence, to "Brook Farm," the home of the Wharton's, and, as Matthew had received orders to drive very rapidly, it seemed to Agnes that her ride was just begun, when they turned into the lane that led up to her Uncle Wharton's house. And now the pillars of the piazza appear between the trees, and now the breakfast room windows, and more bright young faces are looking out, and little chubby hands are clapped together, as the sleigh is discovered coming rapidly up the lane, and the cry resounds through the house, "They've come! they've come! and Agnes is with them!"

A bright, cheerful wood fire was burning in the pleasant, great breakfast room, and the party who had just arrived were soon surrounded by smiles of welcome, while busy little fingers were a.s.sisting them to untie their bonnets, and unfasten their cloaks. In a few moments the door opened, and a pale, but lovely looking girl, in deep mourning, entered the room. She was a niece of Mr. Wharton's, and, having lately been left an orphan, by the death of her mother, she had been brought by her kind uncle, to his hospitable home, where she was received by all as a member, henceforth, of their family.

"Well, aunty," said she, after stooping to kiss Agnes, "you are back sooner than I expected."

"Yes, dear, I was obliged to hurry; little Lewie is very ill, I fear. By the way, Harry, run and tell Matthew that just as soon as he is warm, he must drive as fast as possible to the village, and ask Dr. Rodney to get directly into the sleigh, to go to your Aunt Elwyn's; and tell him to call for me, as he comes back."

"Why, mamma, are you going back there again?" asked Effie.

"Yes, love, I must go back, and remain with your Aunt Harriet to-day. I only came home to make some arrangements for the family. I want your papa to drive over for me to-night, after the little ones are all in bed; and I desire the rest of you to keep out of my way till I have changed my dress. I do not know yet what is the matter with Lewie. How do you feel, Emily?"

"Much better, thank you, aunty; I am quite prepared to play lady of the house in your absence."

"Well, do put aside those books, dear: your health is the most important thing now. I wish I could leave you so busy with household concerns as to give you not a moment's time for reading."

"Dear aunty, I do not think the books hurt me; and you certainly would not have me grow up a dunce, would you?"

"No fear of that, dear; and I by no means wish you to give up your books altogether, but only to lay them aside till you get a little color in these pale cheeks. I shall lay my commands on your uncle not to give you any more a.s.sistance in your studies till I give him permission."

"Well, I'll be very good, aunty, and I've promised the boys to take a run with them over to the pond, and see them skate; and besides, we are all invited to an entertainment in a certain snow palace, which is nearly finished, and which I have promised to grace with my presence."

Just then two fine handsome boys, the pictures of health and good nature, rushed in. These were Robert and Albert Wharton, home from school for the Christmas holidays.

"Mother, what will you give us for our entertainment?" they cried.

"Have you a table and seats?" she asked.

"Yes, all made of snow," said Albert. "But don't let us tell her all about it, Bob; I want to surprise her."

"I think your entertainment, to be in keeping with your furniture, ought to be of snow and icicles," said Mrs. Wharton; "but, whatever it is, I am sorry that I cannot visit your snow palace to-day."

"Oh! that's too bad, mother; it will spoil all our fun. But, say, will you give us something to eat?"

"Yes; I leave Emily mistress of the keys for to-day, and you may call upon her for pies, cake, or anything the store-room contains; only be a little moderate, and don't leave us entirely dest.i.tute."

"It won't be half so pleasant without you, mother," said Robert; "but we shall have quite as many as our palace can accommodate, if all these go.

Hallo! here's Agnes! Why, Aggy, how do you do? I didn't see you before."

At this moment the sleigh was seen coming up the lane, and Mrs. Wharton hastened to get ready to accompany the doctor to the Hemlocks.

"I want to whisper to you, dear mother, one minute," said little Grace.

"What more Christmas secrets?" asked her mother.

A whispered consultation here took place, some request being urged with great eagerness by Grace; and the pleasant "Yes, yes," from her mother, made her bright eyes dance with joy.

As Mrs. Wharton was driving from the door, Albert called out:

"Mother, may the baby go with us?"

"Yes, if Kitty will wrap him up well," was the answer, and the sleigh flew down the lane, and was soon out of sight.

Agnes was now hurried off by her young cousins to inspect the various preparations for Christmas, and was made the repository of some most important secrets, "of which she must not give a hint for the world."

She saw the purse Effie was knitting for Albert, and the guard-chain Grace was weaving for Robert, and the mittens for Harry, and the socks for the baby, and the pen-wiper for papa, and the iron-holder for mamma; and then Effie took her aside alone, to show her something she was making for Grace; and Grace took her aside alone, to show something she had bought with "her own money" for Effie; and there was a beautiful book for Cousin Emily. "And we cannot show you yet whether we have anything for you, Agnes, because, you know, we always keep our secrets till Christmas comes," they said.

"There comes papa from the mill," cried Effie, looking out of the window; "let's run down and see him. How surprised he will be to find mamma gone, and Agnes here!"

Mr. Wharton came in with his usual cheerful manner; and soon as he was warming his feet by the fire, he had Agnes on one knee, and Harry on the other, and the rest of the noisy little tribe round him, eagerly telling the events of the day, and the pleasant antic.i.p.ations for the afternoon.

"Oh, papa," said Effie, "I've got something I want to say to you, if you would only come in the other room a few minutes, or if the children would only be kind enough to go out of this room a little while."

"Won't it keep, Effie, till I warm my feet?" asked her father; "because, if it will not, I suppose I must go now."

"Oh no, papa, I will wait patiently," said Effie.

In a few minutes her father said, "Now, Effie, for that important secret;" and they went together into another room.

"This is what I wanted to say, papa," said Effie: "you know poor Agnes never has any money of her own; and I know, when she sees us all giving presents to each other, she will feel badly, if she cannot give something too; and I want to know if you won't give her a little money, and let her go to the village with us the next time we go, and get some materials to make something out of?"

Mr. Wharton answered by putting his hand in his pocket, and giving Effie some silver for Agnes, with which she went off perfectly happy.

And now little Grace put in her curly head, and said, "Effie, when you are through with papa, I've got something to say to him too."

The sum and substance of Grace's communication was this: "she had seen something at a store in the village, with which she was sure her mamma would be perfectly charmed, but she hadn't _quite_ enough money to purchase it; she only wanted _ten cents_ more." And she too went off with a smiling face.

Emily now came in jingling her keys and called them all to dinner.

As soon as possible after dinner, the boys laden with a basket of good things, which Emily had provided for them, started off for the snow palace, one of them carrying the dinner-horn, which was used in the summer, to call the men to the farm-house to their meals. When the entertainment was ready the horn was to sound. In the meantime, the children were sitting around the fire, waiting impatiently for the signal, to call them to the palace of snow.

"Cousin Emily," said Agnes, for she too said "Cousin Emily," though there was no relationship, in fact, between them, "Cousin Emily, I wish I knew _what_ to read and study. I do want to know something, and I don't know anything but my Bible, and my little book of hymns. Mammy taught me to read, or I should'nt have known anything at all," she added sadly.

"Well, Agnes," that is the best knowledge you could possibly have, said Emily, "though I am far from thinking other studies unimportant; but, if I can help you in any way, I will gladly lend you books, and tell you how to study."

"Oh! will you, cousin Emily?" said Agnes, her face brightening; "how happy I shall be! aunty has taught Effie and Grace, and they have studied Geography and History, and they can cipher, and I don't know anything at all about those things; why, even little Harry knows more than I do."

"But you can beat us all in Bible knowledge, I know, Agnes," said Emily, "and, in a very little time, you will catch up to the other children, for aunty has little leisure time to devote to them. But there! I hear the horn! call Kitty, to bring the baby, and we'll all start."

And now all warmly wrapped in cloaks and hoods, the little party left the side piazza, and walked down towards the pond. The path was well broken, as the boys travelled it so often, on their way to the pond and the snow palace, and the little party went briskly on. Emily and Agnes headed the procession, then came Effie and Grace, dragging a box-sled in which the baby was comfortably stowed, and Kitty, the nurse, brought up the rear, leading little Harry. The two boys met them at some distance from the snow palace, and told them they must go through the labyrinth before they could reach the place of entertainment.

The labyrinth was composed of paths, cut in the deep snow, winding in and out, and circling about in all directions, till, at length, the foremost of the party halted before the entrance to the snow palace. The boys had, indeed, been industrious, and the new comers stared in amazement, at the results of their labor. They found themselves, on entering the palace, in a room high enough for the tallest of the party to stand upright in, and of dimensions large enough to seat them all comfortably around the square block of snow which formed the centre table. The seats were of the same material, and were substantial enough, while the extreme cold weather lasted. On the table was placed the entertainment provided by Emily, to which the party did all possible justice, considering that they had just risen from a plentiful dinner at home. After the feast, Robert and Alfred entertained them with feats of agility on the ice, dragging one or the other of the children after them upon the sled, and when they returned home, even Emily's usually pale cheeks were in a glow.

Towards evening Agnes began to be uneasy, and to watch at the window for her aunt's return. "I will not see aunty, cousin Emily," she said, "but I cannot go to bed till I hear how Lewie is to-night."