Adelaide. I am sorry to hear you call your anticipated 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.