Aunt Kitty's Tales
Page 29
CHAPTER II.
HAZEL GROVE.
Mrs. Wilmot was left a widow when her two daughters, Grace and Lucy,were very young--so young that Lucy, who is now ten years old, does notremember her father at all, and Grace, who is twelve, has only a veryfaint recollection of a gentleman, who, when he was lying on a couch inthe parlor, used to have her brought to him, and kiss her, and give hersome of the candies which he always seemed to have near him. Mrs. Wilmotfound herself not very rich on the death of her husband, and as she wasa very highly educated and accomplished woman, she was advised to keep aschool for young ladies. She did not remove into a city to do this, forher own pleasant house is near enough to a large town to admit of herhaving day scholars from it; and she took no boarders, but four girls,the children of friends who had known her long, and who were glad tohave their daughters under her care, on any terms. These four girls areabout the age of her own children, and have been educated with them assisters. Indeed, as they call her "Mamma Wilmot," but for their being somuch of the same age, a stranger might suppose them all her ownchildren. Their names are Clara Devaux, Martha Williams, and Kate andEmma Ormesby. These two last-named girls are twin sisters, and so muchalike that it was formerly frequent sport with them to perplex theiryoung companions by answering to each other's names. This they can nolonger do, as Kate has grown tall and thin, while Emma is still a fat,chubby little girl. Mrs. Wilmot, about two years ago, had some propertyleft her, which would have supported herself and her daughters verycomfortably without the profits of her school, but she had become somuch interested in her young boarders, that she was not willing to partwith them. She gave up, however, all her day scholars, and then wrote tome requesting that I would visit her, as she would now, she said, haveonly her six little girls to teach, and would therefore have leisureenough to admit of her enjoying a friend's society. As soon as possibleafter I received this letter, I went to Hazel Grove, the name of Mrs.Wilmot's place, taking Harriet with me.
We arrived at noon of a bright day in October. We had already begun toenjoy the glow of a fire in the chill mornings and evenings, but, atthat hour, the sun was so warm that it might almost have cheated us, aswell as the little birds and insects, into believing that summer was notquite gone.
Hazel Grove is a very pretty place. It fronts a fine, bold river, towhose very edge the lawn, on which the house stands, slopes gently down.On the opposite side of the river, the banks are steep and thicklywooded. On the left of the house, as we approached, lay a large orchard,which still looked inviting, with its yellow pears and its red orspeckled apples. On the right, was a fine old wood of oak and maple andbeach trees, intermingled with the smaller hazels, from which the placetakes its name. Have you ever, in Autumn, when the nights became cold,watched the trees, as their green first grew deeper and more vivid, andthen was changed from day to day into every varying shade of color,from russet brown to pale yellow--from deep rich crimson, to brightscarlet and flaunting orange? If you have, you may know how gayly thiswood was looking when first we saw it.
But pleasant as all this was, there was something in the old stonecottage, with its yard bordered with flowers and shaded with largeblack-walnut trees, which pleased me yet better; and best of all was theview which I caught of the parlor through the open windows. There satMrs. Wilmot in a rocking-chair, with six little girls around her, towhom she was reading. These girls were all busily at work, except onebright-eyed, curly-headed little thing, seated on a low stool at Mrs.Wilmot's feet, whom I afterwards found to be her youngest daughter,Lucy. She, too, had some work in her hand, but she was so muchinterested in what she was hearing, that her needle stood still, whileshe looked up into her mother's eyes, as if she would read the story inthem. I had only a single minute to see all this, for the noise ofletting down the carriage steps caused Mrs. Wilmot to look out, and inan instant the book was laid aside, the work thrown down, and shehastened to meet us, followed by her children.
The rest of this day was a holiday to the children, and while Mrs.Wilmot and I sat talking over old friends and old times, they ledHarriet to their gardens and their baby-houses, their swing, and theplayground where they were accustomed to trundle their hoops and jumpthe rope,--showed her the calf, Martha's pet lamb, Kate's and Emma'sEnglish rabbits, Clara's dove, Lucy's kitten, and Grace's puppy, whichwere each the most beautiful of their kind that had ever been seen. Thenext morning I was introduced to all these beauties, and quite won thehearts of their owners by my evident admiration of them. When my visitswere over, Mrs. Wilmot called her little girls to their lessons, inwhich Harriet, at her own request, joined them. Mrs. Wilmot had a goodlibrary, and while she and the girls were engaged with their studies inthe morning, I was generally there, reading or writing. At dinner we metagain, and the afternoon was passed together in some entertaining andpleasant way at home, or in driving, walking, or visiting some of theagreeable people with whom Mrs. Wilmot was acquainted in the town.