The Clever Woman of the Family

“Thou didst refuse the daily round Of useful, patient love, And longedst for some great emprise Thy spirit high to prove.”—C. M. N.
“Che mi sedea con l’antica Rachele.”—DANTE.
“It is very kind in the dear mother.”
“But—what, Rachel? Don’t you like it! She so enjoyed choosing it for you.”
“Oh yes, it is a perfect thing in its way. Don’t say a word to her; but if you are consulted for my next birthday present, Grace, couldn’t you suggest that one does cease to be a girl.”
“Only try it on, Rachel dear, she will be pleased to see you in it.”
“Oh yes, I will bedizen myself to oblige her. I do assure you I am not ungrateful. It is beautiful in itself, and shows how well nature can be imitated; but it is meant for a mere girl, and this is the very day I had fixed for hauling down the flag of youth.”
“Oh, Rachel.”
“Ah, ha! If Rachel be an old maid, what is Grace? Come, my dear, resign yourself! There is nothing more unbecoming than want of perception of the close of young-ladyhood.”
“Of course I know we are not quite young girls now,” said Grace, half perplexed, half annoyed.
“Exactly, from this moment we are established as the maiden sisters of Avonmouth, husband and wife to one another, as maiden pairs always are.”
“Then thus let me crown, our bridal,” quoth Grace, placing on her sister’s head the wreath of white roses.