During this period Woodlands had been frequently visited. Leila had become more and more pleased with the grounds, and the beautiful walks with which it abounded.
Mr. Howard had selected a pretty little cottage, near the poultry-yard, for Peggy Dobie, and Leila had had much delight in seeing the China roses, and several pretty creepers, trained on its white walls, and the little garden put in nice order, and well stocked with useful winter vegetables. She had asked the gardener to put up a green turf seat in a warm corner of the garden; he had humbly proposed that it should be in the shade, but Leila said no—that Peggy Dobie always sat in the sun when she watched her bees, and that she said, “The sun was gude baith for bees and bodies, and gladdened her auld heart.”
Peggy had been allowed time to visit her friends before leaving her country, but the period was now approaching for her arrival, and Leila’s gay spirits were in full flow. Selina, the cat, and one solitary parrot, had been poor substitutes for the loss of all the other favourites; above all, the absence of Dash had been particularly felt and mourned over. “Now,” she said, “I have but a few days to wait, and I can scarce count up all the pleasures that are coming upon me;—Woodlands, and all the Christmas party, with all the friends that I love; and Dash, and Peggy Dobie, and all my birds and turtle-doves again,—joy, nothing but joy.”
The morning in which Peggy Dobie was to embark with her precious cargo rose calm and bright. The wind, which had been threatening to rise the day before, was completely lulled, and Leila had been rejoicing in the brightness of the day, and had watched the sun go down in golden splendour. Later in the evening, however, the wind began to rise again, but not so as at all to alarm her, and Leila’s tranquil sleep was unbroken by the coming storm, the loud howling of the blast amidst the trees, and the sound of distant thunder—it was a fearful night. Mr. Howard had more than once left his bed to look out upon the scene of desolation, for the ground was strewed with branches from the trees, and the clouds were driving before the wind with unceasing velocity. It recalled to his mind that dreadful night when he seemed about to part with all most dear to him, and though deeply grateful for the present safety of one so loved, he yet felt painfully anxious for those that might now be in similar circumstances. The good old woman too, whom he had been the means of removing from her quiet home, he thought what Leila’s grief would be, and his own regrets, if aught of ill befell her. Of all this threatened danger Leila was in ignorance till awakened next morning by Nurse: her face of dismay Leila was too sleepy to observe, but her words were startling.
“Oh, Miss Leila!” she exclaimed, “poor, poor Peggy Dobie, and our valuable Dash, and all the poor dumb animals.”
“What is it, Nurse?” Leila cried, starting up and rubbing her eyes; “are they arrived?—but no; that is not possible; they cannot arrive for two days yet. What has happened? why do you look so? Oh, tell me!”
“Calm yourself, my dear Miss Leila. It was not like my usual prudence to frighten you in this way; but did you not hear the awful wind in the night? listen to it now, how it roars.”
Leila was out of bed in a moment, and gazing from the window. The lawn was strewed with leaves and branches from the trees; one branch lay across the doorway, so very large, it seemed an entire tree. She shuddered. Mr. Howard entered the room at this moment, and lifting her in his arms, he replaced her in bed, and sat down beside her.
Leila’s long dark eyelashes were wet with tears; her cheeks were very pale, and she trembled violently. Mr. Howard stooped down and kissed her forehead.
“You were wrong to leave your bed, my child, you are very cold—and cold also, I fear, from excessive agitation. Now, dear Leila, give me a proof this day that you are endeavouring to gain more command over your feelings, and let me see that you do not give way to what are, I trust, unnecessary fears.”