Edith looked up, a sudden expression of joy beaming over her countenance. As she bent again over the flowers, the sweetest gleam of hope stole over her, and she felt the magic influence of those words.
Happy are they who in their own interests, joys, and sorrows, forget not the welfare of others! Edith looked forward with pleasure to the events of the day; for in the morning the school which she had built was to be opened, with an appropriate address from the good rector; and in the evening, young and old, rich and poor, were to be assembled in her splendid home. She had gaily declared to the gentry her wish to receive, as lady of the manor, “all good comers,” that New-Year’s Eve; and to sup in the old hall of her ancestors, after the manner of feudal times, with the peasantry of her estate “below the salt.” They, of course, looked forward to the event with unmixed pleasure and delight. Not so all those of gentler birth; for she had lived but little among them until of late, and was understood still less. Many thought it a capricious whim of the spoiled beauty, and many wondered what strange thing she would do next. “It was not that she cared more than the rest of them that the poor should enjoy themselves, but that she loved to do as no one else did. What a pity her uncle’s fine estate was left in such hands!”
So charitably reasoned some of the invited guests; but, happily, there were others who knew Edith better, and welcomed with delight her kind and benevolent plan for a happy new-year’s eve to them all.
The important evening at last arrived. The village children could not have existed much longer. Wide were the park-gates flung open, and never had the old avenue rung with the sound of so many merry voices before. Many a little belle startled a sleeping bird by stopping under his resting-place to admire, by the light of the lantern she carried, her bran new shoes and pretty frock, wondering if any of the great ladies would look half as nice, and feel half as happy as she did. Some timid little creatures clung to their mothers’ skirts, and looked with mingled feelings of awe and admiration on the stately mansion, blazing with light in the midst of the dark cedars, half afraid of entering it until re-assured by the promise of seeing the kind lady whom they all loved. But when they arrived there, and were welcomed by that sweet lady herself, who shook hands with all, and wished them a happy new-year; and when they saw the fine old hall with its bright armour, and many magnificent rooms all beautifully lighted up and decorated, and were shown the pictures and other wonderful things, their delight knew no bounds. But, perhaps, that which charmed them most was a deep recess at the lower end of the hall, completely filled with rare and luxuriant plants, in the midst of which stood a beautiful figure of Peace, joining the hands of Anger and Contention, who were regarding with a mingled expression of surprise and admiration the heavenly beauty which they had not perceived when occupied with their unholy strife.
The children whispered softly here; for the light was very dim, but a lovely glow irradiated the beaming countenance of Peace, and here and there flowers glistened in the dark leaves around them.
And now tea and cake, such as they had never tasted before, awaited them in a pretty room, gay with laurel and holly, where our friend Mrs. Hope presided, half beside herself with joy, yet preserving the most perfect order and decorum. Then the amusements of the evening began, which comprised the merriest and oddest of all styles of dancing to the music of the village band, the wonders of a magic lantern, and many a childish game beside; but above all, the crowning delight was the new-year’s gift to each of a pretty little volume, with the name of each written in it by Edith’s own hand.
The hours flew too swiftly by—so thought these delighted little people, as ten o’clock was announced, and Edith wished them all good night as kindly as she had welcomed them; but in few words, for carriages were arriving, and she had to receive her guests: they thanked her in their simple way for the pleasure which she had given them, and the homely sincerity of their gratitude lighted her sweet face with happy smiles.
The spacious picture-gallery, which had been converted into a ball-room for the occasion, was gay with many a shining wreath. The old family portraits seemed to look down with pleasure, and to beam a welcome on all assembled there; so thought several of the wandering villagers, grouped here and there amid the more brilliant throng, watching the mazes of the dance with interest and amazement, and listening with equal surprise to the magnificent band, to the music of which many a fairy foot was flying. Most, however, thought it very inferior to the performance of their own village musicians, and wondered how people could dance to such spiritless tunes on a new-year’s eve like this.
Edith had anticipated their predilection, their shyness, and their love of country-dances and hornpipes; so they were soon marshalled by their gentle chamberlain, Mrs. Hope, into another room, where they could enjoy all these to their hearts’ content, and yet feel themselves privileged to look in on the grandees whenever they pleased. Perhaps this room, with its unrestrained mirth and merry laughter, was happier than the more splendid one; for though many there were thoroughly enjoying the beauty and gaiety of the scene, still there were heart-burnings. In that large assemblage several met, who, though once friends, had not spoken for years, and who felt startled and uneasy at being brought into such close proximity. But scarcely a shadow could be cast where the beautiful hostess moved and spoke—
“Thought in each glance, and mind in every smile.”