“There were five women, capable of interesting and amusing each other, all longing for society. Why did it not occur to them that they might have a sociable at home? I came directly here, and saw three little girls having a tea-party under a tree, and three here, looking bright and animated. You don’t wonder now that I was taken with the picture!”
“An interior. Still life, after—” mamma said, quaintly, as if she were reading a title.
“And we were not so very still either,” added Fanny. “We were taxing our inventive faculties in the dress-making line. We wanted something pretty with a little work and a little money. A new dress is a great event in our lives. We generally step into each other’s, have them taken up a trifle on the shoulders, and the skirts shortened. But I have had the misfortune to outgrow Rose; so the family exchequer has to be squeezed now and then.”
I was amazed at her daring to say so much to Miss Churchill. However, she laughed in such a pretty, whole-hearted way that I had no further misgiving.
“Seven girls! Is that the number? How do you ever get the dress-making done? It is the staple grievance of nearly every one I know.”
“We do not have many dresses,” said irrepressible Fan; “and our pattern being small, the puffs and rufflings have to be dispensed with. So we are saved the trouble of deciding between biassed tucking up and down the gores, and of fluted bobbinet insertion box-plaited beyond the equator, that drove the man crazy when he tried to carry his wife’s message to the dress maker.”
“I should think it would.” And this time Miss Churchill laughed heartily. “How fortunate you are to be able to do your own! though I think every woman ought to have some knowledge of it.”
“Every woman ought to know enough of something to support herself by it, if the necessity comes.”
“Yes. And do you know, now that there is so much talk of independence, I am afraid many of our girls are making a sad mistake? They are all trying to rush into the very front ranks, whether they are geniuses or not; and some of them will be crowded out. There will be no nice home girls left. But perhaps these young ladies have a vocation?” and she glanced up with a charming, lady-like hesitation.
“Rose will be a home girl, Miss Churchill. The credit of our family will be saved. But I can’t decide whether I have a great deal of genius, and could do anything, or whether my range is so limited that the right thing would be difficult to find. I could not write a book, or lecture, or edit a newspaper. I might paint a second-rate picture, or, possibly, teach school; but I should not like the last.”