Part 6 (1/2)
_Mrs. Mortlake._ You must not play on the piano, nor on the harp.
_Rosalind._ Well! What sense is there in pressing down your fingers first on bits of ivory, and then on bits of ebony; and staring at crotchets and quavers all the time? or where is the use of tw.a.n.ging and jerking the strings of a harp?
_Mrs. Mortlake._ You must not work in your garden.
_Rosalind._ So much the better. Then I shall neither dirty my hands with pulling up the weeds, nor splash my feet with the water-pot.
_Mrs. Mortlake._ You may sleep as much as you please; but you must not rise before nine o'clock.
_Rosalind._ O, how delightful, not to be obliged to jump out of bed at daylight! Dearest Mrs. Mortlake, if I could have a _month_ of ease and comfort, instead of only a week---
_Mrs. Mortlake._ Well,--if at the end of the week you still desire it, perhaps I may protract the indulgence to a longer period.
_Rosalind._ Dear Mrs. Mortlake, how kind you are. When shall my happiness begin? As to-morrow is Sat.u.r.day, when we _always_ have a half holiday, and next day Sunday, when we go to the city to attend church, I think, notwithstanding my impatience, I would rather commence my week of felicity regularly on Monday morning.
_Mrs. Mortlake._ Very well, then. On Monday morning let it be.
_Adelaide._ I am sorry to hear you call your antic.i.p.ated week of idleness a week of felicity.
_Rosalind._ Oh! I am sure I shall find it so; and you will regret not having also accepted Mrs. Mortlake's kind offer.
_Adelaide._ I fear no regret on that subject.
_Mrs. Mortlake._ Say no more, Adelaide. Wait till we see the event of Rosalind's experiment.
_Rosalind._ I hope Josephine's afternoon nap will not be as long as usual: I am so impatient to tell her. O, how we shall enjoy ourselves together!
When Josephine awoke and heard of the new arrangement, she was as much delighted as _she_ could be at any thing; and she begged that Rosalind might be allowed to share her chamber during this happy week.
Monday morning came; and Rosalind (such is the power of habit) awoke, as usual, with the dawn; but soon recollected that she was not to get up till nine o'clock. She saw the light gleaming through the Venetian shutters, and she heard the morning song of the scarlet oriole, whose nest was in a locust tree close to the window; and the twittering of the martins as they flew about their box, which was affixed to the wall just below the roof of the house. She heard Adelaide, who was in the next room, get up to dress herself, and exclaim as she threw open the shutters, ”O, what a beautiful sunrise!” Rosalind felt some desire to enjoy the loveliness of the early morning; but determined to remain in bed, and indulge herself with another nap. She turned and shook her pillow, and tumbled about for a long time before she could get to sleep; and at last she awoke again just as the clock was striking seven. She had still two hours to remain in bed, and she found the time extremely tedious. ”Are you asleep, Josephine?” said she. ”No,” replied Josephine, ”I am never asleep after this hour.”
_Rosalind._ Why, then, do you remain in bed?
_Josephine._ O, because I hate to get up.
_Rosalind._ Well then let us talk.
_Josephine._ O, no! I never talk in bed. For, even when I do not sleep, I am not quite awake.
At length it was nine; and at the first stroke of the clock, Rosalind started from her bed, and began to wash and dress herself. When the girls went down stairs, they found the family breakfast had long been over, and they had theirs on a little table in a corner of the room.
Rosalind thought her breakfast did not taste very well; probably, because remaining so long in bed, had taken away her appet.i.te.
After breakfast, they went out and walked a little while in the most shady part of the garden. Then they sat down; first in the arbour of honeysuckles, then on the green bank behind the ice-house; then on a garden chair; and then on the bench at the foot of the great walnut tree. They picked a few currants and ate them; and they gathered some roses and smelled them. For some time they held their parasols over their heads; and then they shut them, and made marks on the gravel with the ends of the ivory sticks. They looked awhile at a nursery of young peach-trees at one side of the garden; and then they turned and looked towards a clover-field on the other side. Josephine pulled the strings of her reticule backwards and forwards; and Rosalind counted the palisades in the fence of the kitchen-garden. At last a bright idea struck her; and she gathered some dandelions that were going to seed, and blew off the down; recommending the same amus.e.m.e.nt to Josephine, who, after two or three trials, gave it up.
”Suppose we go to the play-room,” said Rosalind. Josephine a.s.sented, and they slowly walked back to the house, and ascended the stairs. ”Now,”
said Rosalind, ”we can play domino _in the morning_. Generally, we never amuse ourselves with any of those little games in the day-time; though we have domino, draughts, and loto, sometimes in the evening.” They played domino awhile in a very spiritless manner, and then they tried draughts and loto, which they also soon gave up; Josephine saying that all these games required too much attention. She then had recourse to the rocking-chair, and Rosalind took some white paper and cut fly-traps; in which amus.e.m.e.nts they tried to get rid of the time till near the dinner-hour, when they combed their hair, and changed their dresses.
Adelaide did not join them in the play-room, being much engaged with a very amusing book.