WHEN Leila entered the school-room Selina was reading, but Matilda stood gazing out at the window with rather a disturbed expression of countenance. “Well, Cousin Leila,” she said, “we have news for you, and not very good news either. Now all the day long it will be,—‘Hold up your head, Miss Leila,’ ‘Why do you walk in that awkward way, Miss Matilda?’ ‘How troublesome you are; I wish you would take example by your elder sister—one awkward trick after another—I really must complain of you to Mrs. Stanley.’ Yes, Selina, you need not shake your head at me and look so grave; Leila will look grave also when she knows the truth. Yes, Leila, I was quite right, it is all settled, we are to have a governess; so no more pleasant days for us. Botheration, botheration.”
Leila had not been able to resist laughing at first; but she checked herself, and remained silent.
Selina spoke. “Oh, Matilda! how can you speak in this way, and after all mamma has been just saying? and you seemed to feel it so.”
“Yes, I know I am wrong; and when mamma was speaking to me I felt very sorry, and I resolved I would try to please this Mrs. Roberts, or rather mamma, for I would rather please mamma than any one in the whole world; but, Leila, you looked when you came in as if you had something joyful to say; if you have, please to say it, for we need good news very much to-day.”
But no sooner had Leila communicated the pleasant intelligence of the proposed visit to Woodlands, than all traces of sorrow were banished from Matilda’s face; she was in ecstasies, and, flying across the room, she dashed the book from Selina’s hands, and throwing her arms round her neck, she exclaimed,—“Now no more reading to-day, if you please, Mrs. Demure; this is what I call the right kind of a holiday—how merry we shall be! Well, I do think Uncle Howard makes most delightful plans; how do you manage, Leila, to get him to do so many nice things?”
“I don’t manage,” Leila answered; “he is always thinking of doing kind things to me and every body, and he has told me all about our governess, and made me like having one more than I did at first; I will tell you about it as we go along, for we are to walk, you know, and we must make haste and get ready, that papa and uncle and aunt may not be there long before us.”
The walk proved every way delightful. The sky so brightly blue, the sunshine splendid, and the woods, now tinted with the glowing hues of autumn, gave additional beauty to the scene. Here and there a solitary unprotected tree, standing out from the others, might have given warning to more contemplative minds that winter and its storms were approaching; but there was no winter in their young hearts—all was fresh, gay, and green, and withered leaves brought to them no memory of blighted hopes, and of a world of many sorrows.
The distance could not be two miles, they all agreed, though Matilda and Alfred did their best to lengthen it, by continuing, during every few yards of their progress, to run up a little bank by the side of the road and down again, assuring the others that it was by far the quickest way of getting on, but Leila greatly preferred walking quietly straight forward with Selina; it was always a particular pleasure to her to have Selina entirely to herself. She now related to her all her papa had told her of Mrs. Roberts, and many were the good resolutions made by both, that they would do all they could to make her situation pleasant to her. As they came in sight of a pretty-looking house, standing in a small garden, Leila stopped.
“Look, Selina,” she said, “I think that must be Woodlands, had we not better ask some one if it is?”
A countryman came up to them at that moment, walking very quickly, and was about to pass on before. Leila ran forward.