CHAPTER XV.
Alice Merivale came home for Christmas, that is, in the early part of
December. She had been announced for weeks before, and her immediate
circle were considerably agitated over the welcome tidings, and in
quite a flutter of conjecture and expectation concerning the result of
her extended trip.
Two days after her arrival I received a hasty little note from her, in
which she insisted upon my going to spend the holidays with her, as
she had thousands of topics to discuss with me, and was longing to lay
eyes on me again after so protracted an interval of separation.
The prospect was a pleasant one to me; that interval to which she
alluded had brought me many a reason for wishing to return to my old
home, for a little sojourn among those friends and scenes that had
special claims upon my memory and affections. I submitted her kind
offer to cousin Bessie for a decision, and was of course, encouraged
to accept it, on the grounds that I had never taken a day of real
recreation since I had come to live with her.
The day before I left was snowy and windy, and cold; it was my
birthday. Cousin Bessie took me by the hand, and leading me into the
sitting-room after luncheon, said:
"Sit there, Amey," motioning me to a low rocker that stood on one side
of the fire, while she drew up an easy chair for herself on the other,
"I want to talk to you."
With wondering surprise I threw myself into my seat and looked at her
with eager impatience, waiting for her to begin.
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