whole, I play my part pretty well. I am delighted to find it come so easy. I do not mean that I experience little difficulty in foregoing my hundred petty elegancies and luxuries,—for to these, thank Heaven, I was not so indissolubly wedded that one wholesome shock could not loosen my bonds,—but that I manage more cleverly than I expected to stifle those innumerable tacit allusions which might serve effectually to belie my character.
Sunday, July 20th.—This has been a very pleasant day for me; although in it, of course, I have done no manner of work. I had this morning a delightful tête-à-tête with my hostess. She had sprained her ankle, coming down stairs; and so, instead of going forth to Sunday school and to meeting, she was obliged to remain at home on the sofa. The Captain, who is of a very punctilious piety, went off alone. When I came into the parlor, as the church-bells were ringing, Miss Blunt asked me if I never went to meeting.
"Never when there is anything better to do at home," said I.
"What is better than going to church?" she asked, with charming simplicity.
She was reclining on the sofa, with her foot on a pillow, and her Bible in her lap. She looked by no means afflicted at having to be absent from divine service; and, instead of answering her question, I took the liberty of telling her so.
"I am sorry to be absent," said she. "You know it's my only festival in the week."
"So you look upon it as a festival," said I.
"Isn't it a pleasure to meet one's acquaintance? I confess I am never deeply interested in the sermon, and I very much dislike teaching the children; but I like wearing my best bonnet, and singing in the choir, and walking part of the way home with"———
"With whom?"
"With any one who offers to walk with me."
"With Mr. Johnson, for instance," said I.
Mr. Johnson is a young lawyer in the village, who calls here once a week, and whose attentions to Miss Blunt have been remarked.
"Yes," she answered, "Mr. Johnson will do as an instance."
"How he will miss you!"
"I suppose he will. We sing off the same book. What are you laughing at? He kindly permits me to hold the book, while he stands with his hands in his pockets. Last Sunday I quite lost patience. 'Mr. Johnson,' said I, 'do hold the book! Where are your manners?' He burst out laughing in the midst of the reading. He will certainly have to hold the book to-day."
"What a 'masterful soul' he is! I suppose he will call after meeting."
"Perhaps he will. I hope so."
"I hope he won't," said I, roundly, "I am going to sit down here and talk to you, and I wish our tête-à-tête not to be interrupted."
"Have you anything particular to say?"
"Nothing so particular as Mr. Johnson, perhaps."
Miss Blunt has a very pretty affectation of being more matter-of-fact than she really is.
"His rights, then," said she, "are paramount to yours."
"Ah, you admit that he has rights?"
"Not at all. I simply assert that you have none."
"I beg your pardon. I have claims which I mean to enforce. I have a claim upon your undivided attention, when I pay you a morning call."
"Your claim is certainly answered. Have I been uncivil, pray?"
"Not uncivil, perhaps, but inconsiderate. You have been sighing for the company of a third person, which you can't expect me to relish."
"Why not, pray? If I, a lady, can put up with Mr. Johnson's society, why shouldn't you, one of his own sex?"
"Because he is so outrageously conceited. You, as a lady, or at any rate as a woman, like conceited men."
