The opportunity for doing so came the next day, about an hour after dinner. Madam Passmore sat knitting peacefully in her especial chair in the parlor. Henrietta was absent, superintending household affairs; and Isabella, with the velvet ornaments tied round her neck and arms, was occupied as usual with her endless embroidery-frame.
"We shall have an assembly on Monday," observed Madam Passmore, speaking to nobody in particular.
"That is right!" said Isabella, rather less languidly than usual. "I am so glad! Who are coming, Mother?"
"Dr. Braithwaite and his wife, Squire and Madam Harvey, and Squire and Madam Rowe."
"Nobody else?" asked Isabella, in a disappointed tone.
"Well, that I don't know, child," answered her mother. "Maybe some of the young folks may come from over the hill."
"Are they coming to dinner?"
"No, for the afternoon. Put on your blue satin petticoats, girls, and your best gowns; and Bell, bid Harry to have ready the basset-table in the corner. We will draw it out when 'tis wanted."
"But you will have dancing, Mother?" said Isabella, in a tone which indicated that her enjoyment would be spoilt without it.
"Please yourself, child," said Madam Passmore. "I don't know who you'll dance with, unless Johnny and Frank Rowe should come. The old folks will want no dancing, I should think; they would rather have a quiet game."