Madame and Mademoiselle DeBerczy had flown with the
birds, and were now domiciled in their winter home at the Oak Ridges,
whither Rose Macleod, in response to an urgent invitation from Helene,
had accompanied them, and whence she wrote letters of entreaty to her
father, urging him to take a house in York for the winter.
"Not that it is so particularly lively," she wrote, "but it is not
quite so deathly as at Pine Towers. Edward will be willing to come, I
know, desperate lover of nature that he is, for there is nothing in
the woods now but eternal requiem over lost and buried beauty, of
which, in the natural vanity of youth, he may be tempted to consider
himself a part. As for the children they will build snow-houses, and
sit down in them, thus ensuring permanent bad colds, and the other
member of your family, if she returns home, will 'look before and
after, and sigh for what is not.' Is not that a sufficiently
depressing picture? Dear papa, you know that, like the bad little boys
in a certain class of Sunday School literature, I can't be ruled
except by kindness. Now see what an immense opportunity I have given
you to govern me according to approved Sunday School ethics!"
She paused a moment, considering not what could be said, but what
could be omitted from a missive which was to be convincing as well as
caressing in its nature, when Helene entered the room.
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