“How delighted Frances would be with this spot!” said Howard. “It is like the calm, tranquil mirror of her own mind, which seems formed to reflect only the upper world, with its glorious firmament. I think we have before us two excellent prototypes of our wives:—while the clear, peaceful lake represents yours, this happy, joyous, busy little stream may be likened to my Charlotte, who goes on her way rejoicing, and diffusing life and animation wherever she bends her course.”
“I wish Frances had a little more of her gayety,” said Mr. Draper.
“Depend upon it,” said Howard, “they will operate favorably on each other. I perceive already a mingling of character. I will venture to predict, Charlotte will have a boat
with its gay streamers winding the shore before long, and persuade her sister to become the ‘Lady of the Lake.’”
The matter was soon decided; the sisters visited the place, and were enchanted with it; and Howard was authorized by his brother to make the purchase.
The house had been built many years. It was irregular in its form, and certainly belonged to no particular order of architecture. There was a large dining-room, and doors that opened upon the green, and plenty of small rooms; in short, it was just such a house as Frances fancied; it was picturesque, and looked, she said, “as if it had grown and shot out here and there like the old oaks around it.”
Charlotte begged that on herself might devolve the care of furnishing it. “I know better than you,” said she, “what will save trouble. Banish brass and mahogany; admit nothing that requires daily labor to make it fine and showy. I do not despair of setting you up a dairy, and teaching you to churn your own butter.” She truly loved and honored her sister-in-law, and trembled for her life, which
she was persuaded she held by a frail tenure. She was eager to prevent her returning to the city during the warm season, and readily undertook to go herself and make all necessary arrangements. Frances furnished her with a list, and left much discretionary power to her agent.
In the course of a few days she returned.—“We must be at Clyde Farm to-morrow,” said she, “to receive the goods and chattels of which I am only the precursor. Your husband enters warmly into the furnishing of your country residence, and therefore we must let him have a voice in it. His taste is not so simple as ours, so we must admit some of the finery of the town house; pier and chimney glasses are to be sent from it. I did not make much opposition to this, for they will not only reflect our rustic figures within, but the trees and grass without. How I long to have haying-time come! You must ride from the fields with your children, as I do, on a load of hay, when the work of the day is over, and look down upon all the world. O Frances,” added
she, “if we could only persuade your husband to turn farmer, our victory would be complete.”