Bulbs & Blossoms

IT was five o'clock in the afternoon. Miss Hunter, a tall, dignified-looking woman, was presiding at the afternoon tea-table in the drawing-room of ‘Chatts Chase.' Miss Amabel Hunter stood at the window in a rather muddy riding-habit, and she was speaking in her sharp, short tones
THE next day was still colder, but the children, in company with their nurse, found a delightful retreat in the garden, and this was in the conservatory. James, the old gardener, was always glad of some one to talk to, and he and the nurse
THE winter came on. The days grew darker and colder, and the children were loth to leave their nursery with its warm fire, and sally out into the cold December air for their constitutional walk with nurse. Only the thought of old Bob at the
IT was indeed a lovely morning for Easter Sunday; the sky was a cloudless blue, and the birds awoke the children early by their jubilant thanksgiving.