"The night is too fine for such an effect. Wait until we have a storm,"

he said, with a smile.

"Your nerves are too strong for a storm to affect them. Something very different will be required. I am afraid we must give you up."

"Life is too smooth with him for music or anything aesthetic to ruffle the deeper springs. Wait until he has storms and whirlwinds to withstand."

Mr. Bovyer said, calmly.

"Oh I hope he will never have them, he has not patience like--some," I added, after a pause. I was going to say Mr. Bowen.

"You must know that my ward has taken my measure very correctly. She is better than a looking-gla.s.s. Indeed I was not aware until lately that I had so many shortcomings."

"Medicine for a mind diseased, administered by a gentle hand, cannot be hard to take."

"The softest hand can sometimes wound the deepest."

"Mr. Winthrop, surely I have never wounded you! I have not the power. To think so would give me pain; for, in your way, you have been kind to me--more so than I deserve," I said, impulsively.

"We are always trembling in the verge of tragedy," he said lightly, and then rang for refreshments; and after that we retired.

CHAPTER XVIII.

THE CHRISTMAS TREE.

Christmas morning dawned bright and clear, the one drawback the lack of snow. Thomas had everything in readiness, and every one in the house was looking forward to a sleigh-ride. However, all the other Christmas customs were observed. Before breakfast was the general distribution of gifts. We were all a.s.sembled at the usual breakfast hour in the dining-room, when Mrs. Flaxman rang the bell for the servants to come in. Reynolds was the first to appear. She took her seat nearest to Mr.

Winthrop; then Mrs. Jones, the cook, and Thomas, Esmerelda, and Samuel came in.

Reynolds got her present first--a nice black silk dress. I saw by the pleased flush in her face that she was considerably astonished. The others, each a five-dollar bill; and for Samuel, a jack-knife that would be the envy of all his comrades. Mrs. Flaxman had something for each one of them, and then I followed. When I reached Samuel and handed him the watch from which was suspended a glittering chain, his politeness quite forsook him. "Golly, but that's a stunner," he e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed involuntarily.

Suddenly remembering himself he said, very humbly: "Thank you, ma'am."

Thomas regarded his book with some apprehension; but turning over the leaves, the pictures of so many handsome horses reconciled him. After they had filed out I took my opportunity to deliver the gifts I had prepared with much care for Mr. Winthrop and Mrs. Flaxman; for the latter an idealized portrait of Hubert, in a heavy gilt frame, which I had painted from a photograph; and for Mr. Winthrop a much better picture of Oaklands than the one he already possessed.

I turned to Mr. Bovyer uncertainly, and, after a moment hesitation, said: "I have a bit of my work here for you; but it is so little worth. I am ashamed to offer it." I handed him the folded leaves, tied with ribbons, of Longfellow's "Reapers and the Angels," which I had spent some time in trying to ill.u.s.trate, with the hope one day of turning it into cash. He thanked me, I thought, with unnecessary fervor, considering the smallness of the gift, and stood examining my poor attempt to express the poet's meaning by brush and pencil.

"I say, Winthrop, this is really clever for one so young."

Mr. Winthrop took the book and turned over the leaves.

"You have reason to be proud, Medoline, that one of our severest art critics has p.r.o.nounced favorably on your work. Perhaps the being remembered on Christmas morning has made him blind to its faults."

"I find Mr. Winthrop a very healthy corrective against any flattering remarks of my other friends, I accept him as a sort of mental tonic," I said, turning to Mr. Bovyer.

"Our morning's work is not yet completed," Mr. Winthrop said. "Please excuse me a moment." He went into the library, and returning shortly, he went first to Mrs. Flaxman and gave her a good sized parcel. I was waiting so eagerly to see her open it that I scarce thought if I, too, should be remembered; but after standing for a few seconds by the fire he came to my side and gave me a tiny box done up carelessly in a bit of paper. I opened it, when the most beautiful diamond ring I ever saw glittered a moment after on my finger.

"Oh, Mr. Winthrop, is this really and truly mine?"

"Really and truly, yes."

In my surprise and delight I lifted the ring to my lips and kissed it.

"That is the prettiest compliment paid to a gift I ever witnessed," Mr.

Bovyer said, with a smile.

"Medoline has her own way of doing things. I find her refreshingly original."

"That is almost better than the ring," I murmured gratefully, looking up into his face.

"Shall we have breakfast served now?" He turned abruptly round and touched the bell. I bethought me of Mrs. Flaxman and looked just in time to see her slipping off an elegant sealskin dolman, while her eyes looked very dewy and tender.

"Mr. Winthrop, you are making this Christmas-tide positively regal with your gifts. So many of us that you have gladdened--Mill Road folks and all," I said, not able wholly to restrain my affectionate impulses as I laid my hand lightly on his--the first time I had ever so touched him.

He folded his other hand over mine for an instant, and then we sat down to the breakfast which had just been brought in.

Mr. Winthrop and Mr. Bovyer spent the greater part of the day together alone. After breakfast they took a long horseback ride across country, only reaching home in time for luncheon, and then Mr. Winthrop had some choice additions to his library to exhibit, that kept them employed until dinner. Mrs. Flaxman smiled at the way Mr. Bovyer's time was engrossed by my guardian, but I do not think either of us regretted it; for we had so many happy fancies of our own to dwell upon that the brief December day seemed all too short. Just before dinner I went to the kitchen to see how Samuel was getting on with his timepiece, but found that he had been away all day.

"That watch of his has been more talked about in Cooper's Lane, where his folks live, than anything else, I'll warrant, this day," Thomas a.s.sured me. "He'll be back soon. The smell of dinner always fetches him home."

We had scarce done speaking when I heard his step at the door, and presently he came in. His watch-chain was arranged in most conspicuous fashion across his waistcoat, and caught the light very cheerfully as he stood near the lamp.

"What's the time?" Thomas asked soberly; but Samuel was too smart to be so easily trapped.

"There's the clock right afore your eyes."

"The time maybe'd be better from a bran new watch."

I did not linger to hear more of their badinage, but the look of satisfaction on Samuel's face found a reflection in my own heart, and I wondered in what way I could have spent a few dollars to procure a larger amount of happiness. We had quite a large dinner party that evening. Mr.

Hill, our minister, was there, with his wife and grown-up daughter, and some half-dozen others of our Cavendish acquaintances. I found the hour at dinner rather heavy and tiresome. My neighbors on my right and left being--the one a regular diner-out whose conversation was mostly gustatory, and the other a youth whose ideas never seemed to rise above the part of his hair or cut of his garments. I noticed Mr. Bovyer sitting further up on the other side of the table looking quite as bored as I felt, his next neighbor being a young lady the exact counterpart in ideas and aims of the youth beside me. The dinner itself was a triumph of cook's skill, and, as is usually the case with a dinner suitably prepared, its effect was composing. Mr. Winthrop neither drank wine nor smoked, and did not encourage these habits in his guests; so that we all left the table together and proceeded to the drawing-room. I was the last of the ladies to pa.s.s from the room, and Mr. Bovyer joined me and accompanied me into the drawing-room. I was getting interested in his conversation, when Mr. Winthrop came and urged for some music.

"It is impossible just now; I do not feel as if I could do justice even to 'Hail Columbia.'"

"Then, Medoline, you will give us some of your German songs, and, by the time you are through, Mr. Bovyer will be in the mood to enchant us."

"With the exception of our school examinations, I never played before so many persons in my life. I shall find it very hard," I said, already beginning to tremble with nervousness.

"It will be an excellent opportunity to display your ring."

My face crimsoned. Possibly I had allowed the hand that wore my diamond ring a little too much freedom; but the sparkle of the beautiful gem, that just now reminded me of a huge tear-drop, pleased me; for I was still much of a child at heart.

As we were crossing the room, I said: "It is not good taste for me to take the piano first. There are others here who should have been invited."

"Tut, child; I never ask them. They would distract me with their noise."

"Is that not an indirect compliment for me?" I said, looking up at him, my good humor partially restored.

"I shall be compelled to designate you the mark of interrogation--call you rogue for shortness."

"After this morning's experience, I shall not be able to find any name nice enough for you," I said, gently.