In due time a babe was born—a girl—my acquaintance with whom commenced when she was about eighteen; a fair, graceful creature, with a small head on a large, well-proportioned body, soft, helpless, imploring blue eyes, a rosebud mouth, and a peculiar, plaintive tone in her speaking voice.
She had just left a private school, where for years she had gone through books mechanically, coached for examinations by her good-natured, brighter companions. She wrote a neat hand and a limited amount of correct English. But she could never explain a page of her natural philosophy or algebra, and could not reason on any subject more profound than the making of a dress or the dressing of her hair. She was an amiable, affectionate, incapable, timid girl, who always leaned on others for support.
Now, this weak-minded girl had a sister two years her junior, as unlike, except in the color of her hair, eyes, and complexion, as any two persons could be. Where Rosy was insignificantly pretty, Charlotte was commandingly handsome. Firmness, courage, self-reliance, reasoning faculty, she had in marked measure. She was already through the high-school studies, taking a year’s rest between that and the university, while her mother made the long-wished-for visit East; delighted to be mistress of the house, since she was practically skilled in domestic arts herself.
Having previously learned the circumstances that had so impressed themselves on Rosa, I longed to understand how Mrs. Hosmer was situated before the birth of her second daughter.
“Were you still boarding when you were pregnant with Charlotte?” I asked, one day. “She carries herself with so much dignity, she has so much conscious power that it does not seem as if she could be related to Rosy.”
“Bless you, no,” she replied, laughing. “We were keeping house then, and I had the sole care of Captain Rimes’ three children. Their mother had died, you remember. Father sent me our old Nora, and she was a great help to me. Still, I had plenty of responsibility, and not a little labor besides. But I had gotten over all my fears about Martin’s not being happy. He fairly worshiped Rosy, and was so proud when people called her a fairy, as they always did. People said we were the handsomest couple that walked up the aisle in Starr King’s church. Then, principally, I had no time to make trouble by analyzing my face in the glass and proving to myself that I was a fright, as I used to do.”
[CONSTRUCTIVENESS AND ARTISTIC TENDENCY.]
Jannette, a well-balanced, conscientious young woman, had married a sign-painter, who kept strictly within the limits of his business. She had now three children, healthy, nice-looking, docile children, but without any special characteristics. They had been living in a rented house, but now Jannette’s father, having met with success in some business venture, purchased for his daughter a good lot, on which they were able to build a moderate house. Mrs. T. at this time was pregnant with her fourth child, and she entered, with the zest such good fortune would naturally call out, into the planning and replanning the new home, so as to secure the maximum of space, comfort, and architectural beauty out of their modest means. With this her thoughts were occupied during the day, and the evenings were passed advising together over the height of doors and windows, the odd spaces for closets, the precise wood for the different floors. This was during the latter half of the rainy season. The storms once over, the lumber was hauled, and the house put up forthwith.
It now became necessary, with the last remnant of the savings before her, as basis and limit to her operations, to calculate what, of the new furniture needed, could be bought. The papering also must be considered.
“I want a touch of what is called the artistic in our room and the sitting-room, if we can’t do more. Let me help to choose the wall-paper. I shall have to see it every minute of the day,” she said.