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CHAPTER XXV.

SKETCHES FROM NATURE.

Alas! our memories may retrace
Each circumstance of time and place,
Season and scene come back again,
And outward things unchanged remain;
The rest we cannot reinstate,
Ourselves we cannot recreate,
Nor set our souls to the same key
Of the remembered harmony.

CHRISTMAS came and went.

ARNOLD.

Every one knows how sad a Christmas that was to many homes. To Minna it did not seem like Christmas at all, though when she saw Gordon and Flora admiring the holly-boughs with which their nursery was decorated, she could not help thinking of last Christmas-eve, when a merry party at Pentyre were arranging evergreens in the hall. Hazelby, Anne, Beatrice, and herself were there, as well as the Maxwells, and now which of them remembered it?

Margaret determined that her little ones should have some bright remembrances to connect with their first Christmas in England, and Gordon was full of awe and admiration when he accompanied his mother for the first time to church, and saw the tall white pillars tastefully wreathed with ivy and holly procured chiefly from Guysbrooke Park.

On returning home, he found Flora and Clarence waiting for him, and aunt Minna ready to preside at the tea-table, where a large cake, ornamented with a sprig of holly, formed the centre of attraction.

Clarence was now become more than ever the companion of the little Maitlands, for his presence seemed to trouble his grandmother, and Sir Antony, who had returned to spend Christmas with her, was always glad to let him benefit by Mrs. Maitland's general invitation.

The bright happy little faces chased away Minna's sad forebodings more effectually than any other consolation, and she really enjoyed the tea-party, and went down to dinner afterwards with a smiling face, which made her father observe pleasantly, that he was glad she did not look as if she regretted other Christmas parties.

"By the way," he added, "I dare say they are having a cold Christmas in Canada; when did you hear last?"

"This very day, papa. My aunt said the cold weather was beginning already, and they expect a very severe winter; but it seems to agree with them all."

"Ah, then they need not mind it; but I'm afraid a hard winter will come very hard on our poor Crimeans."

Margaret here interposed, and prevented a discussion about the war, which she felt would only chase Minna's smiles away, and by tacit agreement more cheerful subjects were introduced, till Mr. Raymond said,

"Poor Mrs. Guysbrooke, she has a sad Christmas, indeed; but I am glad Sir Antony is come back.

I wonder he does not persuade her to go away for a change."

"He

"He has tried, but in vain," said Margaret. told me yesterday that he had done his utmost to persuade her to move even to the park, if she would go no further, but she cannot bear leaving her own house."

"It is a pity he does not go and live at the park, and take the child, too, I think," said Mr. Raymond. "Mrs. Guysbrooke evidently feels the charge too much for her; and so it is at her age.”

"But he is such a nice child," said Minna, "and so easy to manage; I should not think he could give much trouble."

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No; it is not that," said Margaret; “but I agree with papa that, at Mrs. Guysbrooke's age, the very idea of responsibility of that sort may be a trouble, and I dare say we shall find that this blow has been a great shock to her. I should think her stern nature may find it harder to endure than some whom God has made more flexible."

All the party thought of Margaret's own trial, and there was silence. She paused a moment, and then added, looking at Minna

"But what is there that we cannot bear with God's help?"

As they left the room she put her arm round Minna, and whispered

"Don't wonder at my strength, dear, but remember where it comes from. There is no truer word in the Bible than that most comforting promise-'As thy days so shall thy strength be.'"

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"I know it,” said Minna; "nothing else would do.”

As they were about to enter the drawing-room, Margaret thought she heard a sound of crying upstairs, and ran up to learn the cause. The sound seemed to come from her bedroom, where Gordon also slept, and on entering she found him sobbing in his little bed.

She put down her candle, and leaned over the child. "What is the matter, my darling. Have you not

had a happy day?"

"Yes," sobbed the little boy.

"Then why are you crying, dear, if you are happy?"

"That's it," was the answer; "it was such a happy day, and it is gone!"

A little summary of Margaret's married life!
Such a happy day, and it is gone!

She felt the coincidence, but she learned the lesson too. How do we sometimes childishly mourn over happy days that are gone, instead of lying still in our Father's arms, trusting him to give us rest, and to provide for the morrow.

Other tears than Gordon's fell on his pillow, while his mother strove to lead him to change his regrets into thankfulness, and to trust that God, who had given him so much to make him happy, and the power to enjoy it, could and would still care lovingly for a little thankful child.

Gordon was happy again before she left his little bed, and Margaret told Minna the lesson she had learned there.

To which of the sisters was it most applicable?

Perhaps to Minna, in its primary sense, for her happy day, like Gordon's, might return; many a merry Christmas might still be his, and her life might

again be full of brightness; but Margaret's one happy day was indeed gone irrevocably!

Months passed away, and Minna heard no more of Anne or her brother.

At length, however, her desire for information about him was in some degree gratified, by reading in the newspaper an approving notice of the fact that he had returned to his duties in the Crimea.

The birth of Beatrice's first child about this time gave her an excuse for not writing; but Anne's silence caused great uneasiness to Minna.

Not till June did she get a letter from her; and this time she wrote from Italy. No chance of coming to England; the doctors would not hear of it, and had condemned her to return to Madeira for the winter ; but the two next months were to be spent in the south of France. Hazelby had returned to the Crimea the moment his strength seemed sufficiently restored, but was still far from well.

There was nothing very cheering in such a letter, and Minna could not help casting many a longing thought to the sunny south, where Anne would so gladly have greeted her. Madeira seemed unattainable; but France seemed so near, and yet it was equally unattainable.

When what has formed the great interest of life is put out of our sight, and yet not beyond the hope of restoration, it is very difficult to fill its place by creating temporary interests for the purpose. We may find duties, and do them faithfully and well, but give our heart and mind to them, we perhaps cannot ; and Minna now experienced this difficulty.

Before Margaret came home, the feeling of being

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