Leila at Home a continuation of Leila in England — Story, Setting & Ideas

The wooded banks of Richmond were in all the soft green of early spring, when they were first seen by Leila. A few months had passed; the trees were now half stripped of their leaves, and the autumn tints were fast fading into sombre gray as she a second time caught sight of its wooded heights; but how different were now her feelings, how much more beautiful did the whole scene appear to her with Selina by her side! Selina was spring, summer, sunshine, and all to Leila, and she had not a sigh to give to the falling leaves or the moaning wind.

As the carriage drew up before the same low, picturesque-looking house, which she had before visited, Matilda and Alfred (who with their papa and mamma had preceded them but a few minutes) stood holding the house-door open, ready to give them welcome. Little Alfred bustled out to assist in letting down the steps, and Matilda, in her eagerness to help them to alight, had well nigh brought them to the ground.

“Softly, softly,” Mr. Howard exclaimed, as he endeavoured to catch hold of Leila’s frock; but Matilda had succeeded in extricating both the little girls from the carriage.

“Oh, what a day of joy!” she cried; “Cousin Leila still to be with us for a whole month, and Selina as able to talk to her now as I am; Selina, do you remember when you went away?”

Selina did remember: she coloured, her eyes filled with tears, and throwing her arms first round her sister’s neck, and then round Leila’s, she darted from their side.

“Why does she do that? where has she gone?” Leila anxiously inquired.

“I think I know,” Matilda answered; and pointing to a door on the opposite side of the passage, she flew back to the carriage to assist in getting out the parcels.

Leila crossed the passage, and softly opened the door; Selina was on her knees by the side of her little bed; she timidly advanced, and lifting the white muslin curtain which partly concealed Selina’s slight figure, she knelt by her side. As the two little girls rose from their knees, their eyes met eyes so full of gratitude to heaven, as almost made Selina’s half-whispered explanation, “Leila, I could not wait till night, unnecessary;” “and now,” she continued, “I must go to dear mamma.”

When Selina returned soon after, she found Leila and Matilda, assisted by Amy, arranging the smaller parcels, and carrying them to the different rooms. Matilda looked eagerly in Selina’s eyes.

“I see what you have been doing,” she said, reproachfully: “but I think it is I that should cry: when we were here before, I had to speak both for you and myself. Oh, it was so nice; no, no, Selina, I don’t mean that, I don’t indeed; I am so glad you can speak, oh, so very glad; I said it only to make you laugh, and now I am near crying myself, but I won’t; this is not a day to weep, the very happiest day of all our lives. Come, let us go and visit the school-room; not to say lessons, you know, but just to enjoy ourselves.”

“Yes, that will be an excellent plan,” Leila answered; “and perhaps in the bread-basket we shall still find the head of the doll, which would have been so pretty a doll for my Sally, if it had not been so hardly dealt with.”

Matilda laughed; “How funny you are,” she said, turning to Leila, and passing her arm round her waist; “you have put away my sorrow in a minute.”

The three little girls proceeded to the school-room.

“How very nice it looks!” Leila exclaimed; “how bright, how cheerful-looking; so different from what it was before.”

“And were you very melancholy when you were here before, and did not find us?” Matilda inquired.

“Oh, so melancholy when I saw the flowerpots,” Leila answered; “and I cried so when I saw the paper with ‘Custom commonly makes things easy.’ Yes, ‘Custom commonly’ was the worst of all.”

“But that is all over now,” Matilda observed; “so we need not speak about it, for now we are all three as happy as can be; don’t you think so, Selina?”