Frederica and her Guardians; Or, The Perils of OrphanhoodRobertson, Margaret M. (Margaret Murray)
General
Frederica and her Guardians; Or, The Perils of Orphanhood
Robertson, Margaret M. (Margaret Murray)
Orphans -- Fiction
CHAPTER TWENTY.
Cecilia's home was in London, and there until Christmas-time her
brothers and sisters remained. It was not the best season of the year
for sight-seeing, but by taking advantage of such gleams of sunshine as
now and then came to brighten the general dulness, a good deal was
enjoyed even in that way. Nothing came amiss in the way of amusement to
any of them. Everything was new and full of interest, and in their eyes
wonderful. A drive through London streets gave matter for discussion
for days afterwards.
It was all new and strange to them, the crowds of people hurrying to and
fro, the great dingy houses, the queer narrow courts into which they
sometimes peeped, the splendour of the shop windows, the monuments and
public buildings afforded never-ending themes for talk, and the bright
quaint remarks which were now and then made, amused their elders
greatly.
But there were many dull days during that autumn, when all things were
seen dimly through rain or fog, and there were some days when nothing at
all could be seen, when the gas burned at noon, and when the carts and
carriages that rumbled through the streets all day long, were quite
invisible to the eager eyes of the little boys. On such days, no wonder
that they grew impatient and even fretful, now and then, or that their
sisters were not always so bright and cheerful themselves, as to be able
to beguile their brothers back to cheerfulness and good-humour again.
They were all a little homesick on such days; and so, when the time came
to accept Col. Bentham's invitation for Christmas, they were glad to
leave the dull dark streets behind them, and to get a glimpse of blue
sky and green fields again.
For in sheltered places the fields were green still, almost with the
greenness of summer. In their own country at Christmas-time the snow
lies thick on the ground, and the smaller streams, and sometimes even
the great rivers, are covered with ice. Not a leaf is to be seen or a
blade of grass, but great snowdrifts on the hill-sides, and icicles
hanging from the bare boughs of the trees.
The skaters are out on the ice, and the snow-shoe clubs are beginning to
think of long tramps over the fields. Hundreds of sleighs are gliding
along the city streets, and over the country roads, and the air is full
of the music of sleigh-bells, and the merry voices of people enjoying
the holidays.
And Jack and Jill used to be out with the rest, with a sleighful of
happy children behind them. The children's faces grew grave as they
told one another of all this. How bright it used to be! How
delightful! Oh, yes! Of course it was cold sometimes, but who would
mind the cold, with furs and wraps, great buffalo robes, and bearskins
to keep them warm!
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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