The morning was cloudless, and the garden looked beautifully, with its leaves and flowers glittering with dew-drops. But I only saw it from my window, for though Harriet and Mary, starting from sleep at the first sound of my voice, sprang eagerly up, and, dressing in haste, waited impatiently for the tap of Florence, which was to summon us to our morning walk; they waited in vain. Florence could not be awoke, or when awake, could not be induced to rise; and breakfast was announced, and we were all seated at table before she made her appearance. She looked far more discontented and dull than those whom she had disappointed. This did not surprise me, for I knew she could not feel very well pleased with herself; and those who are not, are seldom pleased with others.
"Well, Florence," said her father, "so you have slept so long that your friends have lost this fine morning in waiting for you, and have seen nothing of all you promised last evening to show them."
Florence colored, hung her head, and replied in rather a sulky tone, "I could not wake myself."
"No," said Mr. Arnott, "but—"
"Come, Mr. Arnott," said I, interrupting him, "the disappointment is past—we have many other pleasures in store for to-day, we can afford to postpone this one; and I doubt not Florence will be ready in time to-morrow. To secure it I will call her myself. May I, Florence?"
She looked pleased, and replied promptly, "Yes, ma'am."
I had two reasons for interrupting Mr. Arnott. One was, I thought Florence was already so much grieved and disappointed that it was useless to distress her farther. Another, and perhaps a more important reason was, that I wished to serve this little girl by helping her to correct her faults; and I felt that in order to be able to do this, it was quite necessary that she should learn to love me, to place confidence in my kindness, and take pleasure in my society. Now you will readily see that she would not be likely to do any of these things, if through me she were made to feel uncomfortably.
After breakfast, Mr. Arnott invited the children to take a walk with him, adding, "I have something to show you, which even Florence has not seen."
"Which I have not seen? What can it be? Do, papa, tell me what it is," said Florence, coming back from the door, which she had reached on her way for her bonnet.
"You will know in a few minutes," said Mr. Arnott, "that is, if you will put on your bonnet and come with me, instead of keeping us all waiting. See, Harriet and Mary are ready," pointing to them as they now entered the parlor.