“All right.” Aurora nodded to the Ildegonda, inviting her by a motion of the hand to go away again.
Aurora rose and softly closed the door which, when open, made an avenue for sound from her room to Estelle’s. She slipped her arms into a sky-blue dressing-gown, and with a heart spilling over with playful joy, eyes spilling over with childish laughter, went to look out of the window, the one farthest from Estelle’s side of the house.
“Good morning! Good morning!” came on the instant from the waiting, upturned face below. “Forgive me for rousing you so early,” was said in a voice subdued so as to reach, if possible, no other ears, “but you promised you would go with me one day to Vallombrosa, and one has to start early, for it is far. Will you come?”
“Will I come? Will I come? Wait and see! Got your horses and carriage?”
“Standing at the gate. How long will it take you to get ready?”
“Oh, I’ll hurry like anything.”
“‘Wash, dress, be brief in praying.
Few beads are best when once we go a Maying.’”
385“I won’t pray, I won’t put on beads. But, see here, what about what they call in this country my collation? You know I’m a gump on an empty stomach.”
“We’ll have our coffee on the road, at a little inn-table out of doors in the sunrise.”
“Fine! By-by. See you again in about twenty minutes.”