'I am sorry we frightened them,' said Harriet.
'Do you not think they will ever come back again?' asked Elizabeth.
'Oh yes, they will be back in the evening or before,' replied Maria Wexford; 'they often fly out in the day-time when it is fine. But perhaps you would like to run round the garden; you will be cold standing still.'
The party was preparing for a race when Mr. Mortimer appeared to summon that part of it which belonged to him; and, having arranged a day with Mr. Wexford, for the families to meet at Beech Grove, Mr. Mortimer and his children returned towards the park.
As they approached the sheet of water, which Frederick again surveyed with a longing eye, they perceived that Mr. Wexford's large Newfoundland dog had followed them from the parsonage, and the boys directly began throwing stones and sticks before them for the animal to run after and bring back to them.
This dog was particularly fond of the water, and John having thrown a stick to the edge of it, it had slipped over the side and the fine animal immediately sprang after it. The boys for an instant were both inclined to smile at the animal's finding footing, when he had expected to sink in the water, but they both turned pale, and looked at their father, when they almost immediately saw him disappear under the ice. It had been so partially frozen that the weight of the dog in plunging, had broken it, and he had sunk to rise no more. Mr Mortimer's heart sickened as he contemplated what might have been the case had his own children ventured on the ice, and he blessed God that their dispositions were such, as to make them obedient to his wishes. Every means were taken for the recovery of the dog, and after some hours he was extricated from the ice; but he was perfectly dead, and apparently had been so some time.
"They are coming papa, they are coming mamma." see [page 17].
As Mr. Mortimer and his children continued their walk towards the house, they heard a shrill shouting from the direction of the village;—it seemed like the shouting of young voices, and was evidently that of joyfulness. The attention of the children was immediately attracted towards it, and Mr. Mortimer indulged them by moving in its direction. John and Frederick were very soon out of sight, and in a few minutes they returned to relate the cause of the acclamations they had heard. They proceeded from the children of the parish school, who had just been dismissed by their master and mistress, and were to be treated with a week's holiday. Hurra—hurra—cried all the little noisy fellows, as Mr. Mortimer came up; while the squeaking voices of the little girls joined in the cry, at the same time as they jumped, and danced, and frisked about happy and joyous as little birds. The young Mortimers hastened towards the gate, and as they opened it, the young crowd gave them another hurra; and two or three of the biggest of the boys approached, and making their village nods to the squire, at the same time touching their hats, they offered their Christmas pieces for exhibition. Mr. Mortimer gave these little lads sixpence each, and calling to the gardener to get him a few shillings' worth of halfpence from the village shop, he bade the happy group of children stop a few minutes near the gate. This they were most glad to do, and on the return of the gardener, John and Frederick, commissioned by their father, gave each of the little girls two-pence, and Harriet and Elizabeth had the same pleasing commission to execute towards the boys. All was joy and hilarity; and when Mr. Mortimer told them that on Christmas-day they were to come to his house, to have some beef and plum-pudding, all the little happy countenances shone with delight.
'And now run on, and get home,' said Mr. Mortimer: 'for your parents will be waiting for you at their dinners. And take care you do not get into any mischief in the course of the next week: and if you go out to slide mind that the ice is well hardened before you venture on it. And a merry Christmas to you all.'