Mrs. Howell arose from the sofa as soon as Diantha had disappeared, saying, "This discussion has brought on one of my severest headaches, and I must go to my room. Of course you will do as you think best about bringing that sick child here." "Do you think favorably of taking this time for a visit to New York?" "My head aches so severely that I cannot think; but I'll talk it over with Louise in the morning. It will be very awkward to thrust one's self into a private family with only a day's notice; but I suppose it isn't worth while to consult our convenience. We can go to a hotel if brother Ralph's family can't receive us." And with the air and tone of a martyr Mrs. Howell swept from the room. The doctor, after five minutes of whistling, humming, and apparent study of the coal fire, buttoned on his heavy coat, and betook himself to the streets, which were still thronged with the hurrying feet and eager faces of those whose preparations for Christmas kept them abroad. CHAPTER VI. CHRISTMAS. "Win her with gifts if she respect not words; More than quick words, do move a woman's mind." SHAKESPEARE. FEW ladies have possessed Mrs. Howell's tact in so yielding a disputed point as to gain their own desires, and at the same time appear a martyr to the convictions of another. If ever the doctor imagined himself victorious in a matter where his wishes a shed with those of his wife, it behooved him to look to his honors, for if she yielded one inch of contesteulground, it was but to strengthen her defences on more desirable points. It mattered little to Mrs. Howell whether Edna Shreve was nursed and cared for in the room over the doctor's office, so long as her residence in the house in no way conflicted with the pursuits and comforts of its mistress, and especially if withdrawal of opposition fro the doctor's scheme secured for her the pleasures of a visit to New York. The conference with Louise decided the question of the visit; there was remarkable harmony of tastes and opinions between mother and daughter, and both agreed that much might be sacrificed to gain so desirable an object as this visit. "I propose, mother, that we go at once to the St. Nicholas, and send Uncle Ralph a line from there. Of course he will call immediately, and take us to his house. It is fortunate that my wardrobe is so handsome this winter; I shall need only one more party dress, and I can have that made so stylishly in New York. You'll want a new moire antique, and it will be positively shameful if father doesn't give you a camel's hair shawl, when he more than half compels you to make this visit." "Louise, I've often requested you never to speak disrespectfully of Dr. Howell. He has been a kind father to you." "I'm quite as well aware of that as need be, and I do respect him and love him; but you know he is often close and niggardly as regards money, especially when 'tis spent on dress. Think what subterfuges you sometimes are obliged to resort to, just to obtain such things as are necessary in genteel society." "Yet, in justice to Dr. Howl, I must say, Louise, he's generous enough with money who 'tis used in accordance with his notions of right. He's nge your dear father, who never objected to my manner spending money, so long as I looked pretty and genteel. The doctor is not as broad and liberal in his views as I could wish." And Mrs. Howell sighed with genuine emotion, because, forsooth, she was wondering whether the doctor's breadth and liberality would be stretched at this crisis over the area of an India shawl. To be sure, she had settled in her own mind that a new lace-trimmed velvet cloak and a black moire dress would be not only becoming, but stylish, even if she was obliged to make so great a sacrifice of her tastes as to go to New York without the shawl. "We must go down to breakfast now, Louise, for, even if it is Christmas morning, the doctor will have a round of calls to make, and will not like to be kept waiting. But tell me first how Diantha appeared at the Metcalfs' last evening." "O, much as usual. Di has never any style, and, I might almost add, no self-respect. Whenever she meets real make-weights at parties, such persons as nobody wants to know, she's all graciousness and attention. She had no words for anybody last night but that strong-minded Miss Wheeler, who always seems to me a walking advertisement of some foundling hospital. Her gray eyes are always asking for your old clothes, and carefully calculating how many poor children could be clothed and fed with the cost of your dress; and then the very limpness, scantiness, and grayness of her own stuff gown seem to frown a remonstrance against everything that is stylish and fashionable. Di was in a corner with Miss Wheeler and Mrs. Metcalf more than half the evening, and appeared to be entertaining them with the wants of her poor people. She wouldn't dance, and didn't sing but one piece. I must say, mother, Di is all Howell, and is fast growing to be a girl of one idea." "It is such a pity! With her talents she might be an ornament to society. But I've done my duty both by example and precept - the dear child has had line upon line." Even this consoling reflection did not soften the aggrieved expression upon Mrs. Howell's face, which she deemed a necessary herald of the sacrifice she was about to make in permitting the orphan Edna to be nursed in her house. Entering the breakfast-parlor, they found Dr. Howell, Diantha, and Stephen in waiting, and were greeted heartily with the compliments of the season. Before the serving of coffee, an investigation was made of the articles upon a side-table, where it had been arranged to deposit such gifts mas the members of this family presented to each other. visit here was a sealed envelope directed in the doctor's "I friting to Mrs. Howell, and to each of his children a ely bound book. Mrs. Howell's gifts daguerreotyped her peculiar tastes quite as forcibly as words could, and she gave herself great credit for the magnanimity which could treat both daugh ters alike, when one pursued a course so antagonistic to the example of her mother and older sister. Louise and Diantha received very handsome and showy bracelets from their mother, with an assurance that she had denied herself many little pleasures for the sake of presenting these fashionable ornaments an assurance which was intended to enhance the value of the gifts, as well as to remind the young ladies of her own self-sacrificing disposition. The accomplished Miss Goodenow had crocheted and embroidered some useless trifles, and received thanks from the recipients of these favors with her usual elegant nonchalance. Diantha's nimble fingers had netted a pretty breakfast shawl for her mother of soft pink wool, and for her father, Louise, and Stephen she had executed with remarkable grace and skill some sketches in water-colors. If Diantha excelled in any accomplishment, it was with her pencil and brush. Stephen's gifts were characteristic of his taste and talent fanciful little boxes and brackets carved with his own hands from rosewood and ebony. The contents of the sealed envelope were not revealed to the members of the breakfast party, but before the doctor left his office for the Bonsecour Home, his lady entered with as much emotion stamped upon her face as she felt would be becoming. "I have come to thank you, Stephen, for your timely and appropriate gift. I suppose you would like me to use this check in buying an India shawl." "Make just that use of it, Mary, which will add most to your comfort and happiness." |