My mother usually attended to the millinery, and my aunt Milly to what might be termed the gentlemen’s side of the shop; the remainder of the goods and circulating-library were in the hands of both.
There were few hours of the day in which the chairs at the counter and round the table were not taken possession of by some one or another, either reading the paper or a book, or talking, to pass away the time. In fact, it was a sort of rendezvous, where all who met knew each other, and where the idle of our own sex used to repair to get rid of their time. Captain Bridgeman and Mr Flat were certainly the two most constantly to be found there, although few of the marine officers were a day without paying us a visit.
Such was the locale; to describe the company will be more difficult, but I will attempt it.
My mother, remarkably nicely dressed, is busy opening a parcel of new books just arrived. My aunt Milly behind the counter, on the gentlemen’s side, pretending to be working upon a piece of muslin about five inches square. Mr Flat sitting near the table, fallen back in his chair, apparently watching the flies on the ceiling. Captain Bridgeman, a very good-looking man, very slight, but extremely active, is sitting at the counter opposite to where my aunt is standing, a small black cane, with a silver head to it, in his hand, and his gloves peculiarly clean and well-fitting. He has an eye as sharp as an eagle’s, a slight hook to his nose, thin lips, and very white teeth; his countenance is as full of energy and fire as that of lieutenant Flat is heavy and unmeaning.
“Miss Amelia, if I may take the liberty,” said Captain Bridgeman, pointing with his cane to the bit of muslin she is employed upon; “what are you making? it’s too small for any part of a lady’s dress.”
“It is quite large enough for a cuff, Captain Bridgeman.”
“A cuff; then you are making a cuff, I presume?”
“Indeed she is not, Captain Bridgeman,” replies my mother; “it is only to keep herself out of mischief. She spoils a bit like that every week. And that’s why it is so small, Captain Bridgeman; it would be a pity to spoil a larger piece.”
“I really was not aware that such a mere trifle would keep you out of mischief,” said the captain.
“You know,” replied Aunt Milly, “that idleness is the root of all evil, Captain Bridgeman.”