Though, as usual, it was kept as the room for state
occasions, it was not a stately room. It was furnished with
elegance and good taste; but what was better, the genial home
atmosphere from the rest of the house had invaded it, and one did
not feel, on entering it from the free-and-easy sitting-room, as
if passing from a sunny climate to the icebergs of the Pole.
Therefore I am sure my reader will follow me gladly out of the
biting, boisterous wind into the homelike apartment, and as we
stand in fancy before the glowing grate, we will make the
acquaintance of the May-day creature who is its sole occupant.
Elsie Alford, just turning seventeen, appeared younger than her
years warranted. Some girls carry the child far into their teens,
and Head the mirthful innocence of infancy with the richer, fuller
life of budding womanhood. This was true of Elsie. Hers was not
the forced exotic bloom of fashionable life; but rather one of the
native blossoms of her New England home, having all the delicacy
and at the same time hardiness of the windflower.
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