Elsie Dinsmore Part 44

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 pa.s.sed 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, a.s.sembled 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 fas.h.i.+on. 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 said you had no present for me?"

"Oh! no, no, papa; I said there was none for you amongst those bundles.

I had bought this, but had given it to Aunt Adelaide to take care of, for fear you might happen to see it."

"Ah! that was it, eh?" and he laughed and stroked her hair.

"Here, Elsie, here is your bundle of candy," said Walter, running up to them again. "Everybody has one, and that is yours, Adelaide says."

He put it in her hand, and ran away again. Elsie looked up in her father's face inquiringly.

"No, darling," he said, taking the paper from her hand and examining its contents, "not to-night; to-morrow, after breakfast, you may eat the cream-candy and the rock, but none of the others; they are colored, and very unwholesome."

"Won't _you_ eat some, papa?" she asked with winning sweetness.

"No, dearest," he said; "for though I, too, am fond of sweet things, I will not eat them while I refuse them to you."

"Do, papa," she urged, "it would give me pleasure to see you enjoying it."

"No, darling, _I_ will wait until to-morrow, too."

"Then please keep it for me until to-morrow, papa, will you?"

"Yes," he said, putting it in his pocket; and then, as the gifts had all been distributed, and the little folks were in high glee, a variety of sports were commenced by them, in which some of their elders also took a part; and thus the hours sped away so rapidly that Elsie was very much surprised when her father called her to go to bed.