And so, between “jest and earnest,” did Miss Preston handle her girls, drawing by gentleness from a sensitive nature, by firmness from a careless one, by sarcasm (and woe to the girl who provoked it, for it was, truly, “like a polished razor keen”) from a flippant, and by one of her rare, sweet smiles from the ambitious all that was best to be drawn.
Toinette was naturally a remarkably bright girl, and possessed qualities of mind which only required gentle suggestions to develop their latent powers. Refined and delicate by nature, keen of comprehension, she slipped into her proper niche directly way was made for her, and filled it to her own credit and the satisfaction of others. Nor did it take Miss Preston long to discover that a delicately strung instrument had been placed in her hands, and that it must be touched with skillful fingers if its best notes were to be given forth.
The weeks slipped away, and winter, as though to pay up for its tardy arrival, came in earnest, bringing in February the heavy snowstorms one looks for much earlier in the season in this part of the globe. The girls hailed them with wild demonstrations, for snow meant sleigh-rides, and it is a frosty old codger who can frown and grumble at the sound of sleigh-bells.
CHAPTER XIV
“JINGLE BELLS, JINGLE BELLS”
One morning early in February the girls looked out of their windows to behold a wonderful new world—a white one to replace the dull gray one, which would have made their spirits sympathetically gray, perhaps, had they been older. But, happily, it must be a very smoky gray indeed that can depress fifteen.
“Quick, Edith, come and look!” and then, flying across the room, Ruth thumped upon Toinette’s door, and called out: “Sleigh-bells! Sleigh-bells! Don’t you hear them?”
The snow had fallen steadily all night, piling up softly and silently the great white mounds, covering up unsightly objects, laying the downiest of coverlids upon the dull old world until it was hardly recognizable. Every ledge, every branch and tiny twig held its feathery burden, or shook it softly upon the white mass covering the ground. Hardly a breath of air stirred, and the fir trees looked as though St. Nick had visited them in the night to dress a tree for every little toddler in the land.