sparkling, dazzling scene it was, which lay spread out before the
windows of that comfortable family parlor, where the morning sunshine
and the blazing wood-fire on the hearth seemed to feel a generous
rivalry as to which should be most inspiriting.

There were children in the room, a merry group of all sizes, from the
boy of ten years old to the little one whose first uncertain footsteps
were coaxed forth by a lure, and cheered onward like a triumphal
progress by admiring brothers and sisters. It was the morning of
New-Year's day, which had always been held as a high festival in the
family, as it is in many families of New England, all the merriment and
festal observance elsewhere bestowed upon Christmas having been
transferred by Puritan preferences to this holiday.

It was just the weather for a holiday--brisk and bracing. Sleigh-bells
were jingling merrily, as the deep drifts of the road having been
overcome, one after another of the families of the neighborhood had
commenced their round, bearing baskets filled with gifts and pleasant
tokens of remembrance, with the customary wishes and salutations of the
day.

The young mother sat in the group of happy children, but she did not
smile on them. Her hand rested fondly on one little head and another, as
they pressed to her side with eager question or exclamation. She drew
the little one with a quick, earnest clasp to her heaving bosom. Her
tremulous lips refused to obey the impulse of her will; she left
Edward's question unanswered, and abruptly placing Willie in the arms of
his careful nurse, she rushed away from the gladness she could not bear,
to the solitude of her own chamber. There she fell upon her knees and
covered her face, while the storm of sorrow she had striven so hard to