After tea, Mrs. Brantley reclined herself idly in one of the rocking-chairs, Mr. Brantley retired to the back parlour to read undisturbed the evening papers, and Augusta took up some bead-work, while Laura looked over the Souvenirs with which the centre-table was strewed.
"How happy you must be, Miss Brantley," said Laura, "to have it in your power to read so many new books!"
"As to reading," replied Augusta, "I never have any time to spare for that purpose; what with my music, and my dancing, and my lessons in French conversation, and my worsted-work, and my bead-work; then I have every day to go out shopping, for I always will choose everything for myself. Mamma has not the least idea of my taste; at least, she never remembers it. And then there is always some business with the mantua-makers and milliners. And I have so many morning visits to pay with mamma—and in the afternoon I am generally so tired that I can do nothing but put on a wrapper, and throw myself on the bed, and sleep till it is time to dress for evening."
"Oh!" thought Laura Lovel, "how differently do we pass our time at Rosebrook!—Is not this a beautiful engraving?" she continued, holding one of the open Souvenirs towards Augusta.
"Yes—pretty enough," replied Augusta, scarcely turning her head to look at it.—"Mamma, do not you think I had better have my green pelerine cut in points rather than in scollops?"
"I think," replied Mrs. Brantley, "that scollops are the prettiest."
"Really, mamma," said Augusta, petulantly, "it is very peculiar in you to say so, when you ought to know that scollops have had their day, and that points have come round again."
"Very well, then, my love," replied Mrs. Brantley, indolently, "consult your own taste."
"That I always do," said Augusta, half aside to Laura, who, addressing herself to Mrs. Brantley, made some inquiry about the last new novel.
"I cannot say that I have read it," answered Mrs. Brantley; "at least, I don't know that I have. Augusta, my love, do you recollect if you have heard me say anything about the last new book—the—a—the—what is it you call it, Miss Lovel?"