“Poor little pussy!” said John.
“You see, John, our rooms are lovely; but they aren’t modern and cheerful, like those I’ve been accustomed to. They make me feel pensive and sad all the time; but I’m trying to get over it.”
“Why, Lillie!” said John, “would you like the rooms refurnished? It can easily be done if you wish it.”
“Oh, no, no, dear! You are too good; and I’m sure the rooms are lovely, and it would hurt Gracie’s feelings to change them. No: I must try and get over it. I know just how silly it is, and I shall try to overcome it. If I had only more strength, I believe I could.”
“Well, darling, you must go to the sea-side. I shall have you sent right off to Newport. Gracie can go with you.”
“Oh, no, John! not for the world. Gracie must stay, and keep house for you. She’s such a help to you, that it would be a shame to take her away. But I think mamma would go with me,—if you could take me there, and engage my rooms and all that, why, mamma could stay with me, you know. To be sure, it would be a trial not to have you there; but then if I could get up my strength, you know,”—
“Exactly, certainly; and, Lillie, how would you like the parlors arranged if you had your own way?”
“Oh, John! don’t think of it.”
“But I just want to know for curiosity. Now, how would you have them if you could?”
“Well, then, John, don’t you think it would be lovely to have them frescoed? Did you ever see the Folingsbees’ rooms in New York? They were so lovely!—one was all in blue, and the other in crimson, opening into each other; with carved furniture, and those marquetrie tables, and all sorts of little French things. They had such a gay and cheerful look.”