Mr. Dickinson soon left us, having an engagement at home. He was to take my carriage and send Harriet and Mary, who had remained to spend the day with William, back in it. I begged that they might leave his house in time to be at home by five o'clock, and I invited Jessie to come over at that hour to meet them. I will leave you to imagine what a happy evening they passed, for though they said a great deal, and it all seemed very pleasant at the time, I doubt whether much of it would look very wise when written down. I will tell you, however, of three things which were decided upon. First—Mary Mackay promised to try to remember Mrs. Graham's lesson to Jessie, that "truth is better than all," especially as Jessie assured her that she had found it so; for that even before she knew of Mr. Dickinson's kind intentions, she had felt quite happy at having told the truth—happier a great deal than any thing could have made her which she had gotten by telling a story. Next, that Jessie was to have Mooly back again, Harriet having begged her of me as a present for her friend. Last, that when Mr. Graham had moved, Harriet and Mary, and two or three other little girls, of whom the first named was "Blind Alice,"[1] were to spend an evening with Jessie.
[1] See the story of Blind Alice, by Aunt Kitty.
CHAPTER XIII.
THE HAPPY PARTY.
It was the first week in September before Mr. Graham moved, and the beginning of the second before his family were so settled as that Jessie could fulfil her promise of an evening's entertainment to her young friends. They were all invited the day before to come at four o'clock, that they might have an hour to see all the beauties which Jessie had discovered, and all the improvements which she had made in her new home, and then, taking tea at five o'clock, might all be at their homes again before the evening became chill. I had a whispered request from Jessie, that though there were to be no grown ladies there, I would just come with the children; a request which you may suppose I did not refuse. When the afternoon came, I took Mary and Alice and two other little girls with me in the carriage, while Harriet rode her own pony. Jessie was waiting in the piazza to welcome us, and William Temple stood gallantly ready to help us from the carriage; and before the hour was gone, every nook and corner of the poultry-yard and garden had been explored. They were both in very nice order, and Alice, as Jessie led her around the garden, was constantly exclaiming, "How delightful!" while she inhaled the perfume of roses and pinks, and honeysuckles and jessamines. It was too late for strawberries or raspberries, but when this garden was made, Mr. Dickinson had had some fine peach and pear trees set in it, and these were now covered with ripe fruit, and from the grape-vine hung large clusters of the rich purple grape. The table for the children was spread under the grape-arbor, and when at five o'clock they were called to it, they found,—not cakes and sweetmeats and tea,—but a dish of warm, light biscuits, of Mrs. Graham's own making—a bowl of soft peaches with cream and sugar—baskets of pears and grapes, and a cup of Mooly's rich milk for each child. The sun was low, and only a few of its rays found their way through the reddish-colored grape-leaves into the arbor; and, sure I am, those rays never fell upon a happier group. They were still enjoying their feast, when hearing some one speak to Mr. Graham, who was busy propping up an overloaded branch of a pear-tree, I looked around and saw Mrs. Temple and Mr. Dickinson with Flora Temple in his arms, coming towards the arbor.
"Mr. Graham," I heard Mr. Dickinson say, "why have you not taken your little visiters through the other garden?"
"Why, sir," said Mr. Graham, "though they are all very good children, they are not just as used to gardens as Jessie, and they might be careless—but if you would let me, I would like to take that poor blind child through the green-house, for she is so fond of flowers, and I doubt if she ever smelt a lemon blossom."
"Certainly, Mr. Graham, I shall be pleased to have you take her."
Mrs. Temple took Flora from her brother and joined the little party under the arbor, while Mr. Dickinson remained outside, seemingly engaged with Mr. Graham, but I suspect much more attentive to the merry voices of the children. At length William called him in, and I am sure no one who saw him then for the first time would have called him "the cross Mr. Dickinson." I said this to old Mrs. Graham, and her reply was, "Nothing, I think, ma'am, makes people so pleasant and good-humored as seeing happy faces,—especially when they know, as Mr. Dickinson does, that they made the happiness."