And so ended the first day at Wolfscliff; the first, also, of many happy days.

The cousins did not wait to be invited. The news of the new arrival at the Hall was soon spread through the neighborhood by the negroes, and neighbors and relatives lost no time in calling on the young pair.

And yet these were not so truly calls as visits, for when any one came to the house they arrived in the morning to stay all day and take dinner and tea. They expected this, and it was also expected of them.

The very first to come were the Gordons, who arrived early in the morning a few days before Christmas. They came in a big ox cart, and filled it. There was old Mr. and Mrs. Gordon, an ancient couple nearly ninety years of age, bowed, shriveled and white-haired, yet, withal, right merry; and their bachelor brother and maiden sister, Mr. Tommy and Miss Nancy Gordon, as aged and as merry as themselves; then there was the son and daughter, Col. and Mrs. George Gordon, both stout, rosy and full of the enjoyment of this life, and their middle-aged bachelor brother and maiden sister, Mr. Henry and Miss Rebecca Gordon. And there were seven young men and three young women between the ages of fifteen and twenty-seven. But, really, it would take up too much time and space to tell you all their names and ages and characters. They were a happy, rollicking set of young people.

They had not been much hurt either in mind, body or estate by the war, and were neither depressed nor embittered.

Then came the two old folks from the Elms. And, finally, the Clydes, from the village.

And besides these, neighbors came; old families who had been in the land, as the Cleves had, from the first settlement by the English—the Hills, the Ords, and the Balls—all of whom lived within ten miles of Wolfscliff.

And all of these kinsfolks and neighbors were warmly welcomed at Wolfscliff, and well liked by Cleve and Palma.

Christmas brought its usual festivities at the home, but also a snowstorm that commenced on the morning of Christmas Eve and continued all day and all night and all the next day, covering the ground two feet deep, and toward the close of the second day, when the wind rose, drifting in places several yards deep.

This made it impossible for the families at Wolfscliff to leave the house; but Mr. Cleve held service in the large drawing-room, where all his people from the plantation, as well as the members of his household, were collected.