The simple little supper, to which the three women sat down that evening was delightful to Virginia. And afterwards, what a gay time they had with the dishes. The city cousin, whose headache was now a thing of the past, donned an apron and assisted in drying them. Never had Serena permitted her this proud privilege and how pleased she was to do it now. She polished the few plates upon which she had the time to apply her intensive treatment until they shone and sparkled bravely beneath the lamplight.
Aunt Kate watched her strenuous efforts for a time in silence and then burst forth, “Good land, if I weren’t sure that the blue on that old willow ware was burned deep, child, I’d be afraid you’d rub it off.”
“Virginia is exercising, mother,” laughed Helen.
“If she exercises that hard on each dish, she won’t have either the strength or time to do the rest of her work. No man would want to marry a girl who puts in her time wiping dishes. Most of them would rather look at good things to eat in their plates than at the reflection of their own faces, I’ll warrant you.”
How the two girls did enjoy Aunt Kate’s sage remark and what a pleasant little chat they had when supper was over.
Aunt Kate sat in her easy chair and sewed, and now and then interjected a word of wisdom into their conversation which convulsed them. Finally she yawned, and, looking at the old wooden cased clock upon the mantel, announced, “It’s time all honest folks were in bed and rogues were movin’.”
A short time after this pointed remark, Virginia, tingling with the chill of the northern night which swept in as she opened her windows, climbed into bed, and, pulling the blankets about her, she gave a little sigh and, very much like her old self, plunged into a deep and dreamless slumber.
When she awakened the next morning, sunlight was streaming into the room. Filled with curiosity over her new surroundings, she sprang from her bed and gazed out of the window. Across the road, which ran in front of the house, a newly mowed meadow rolled down to the shore of a lake or pond a short distance away. Its surface, rippled by the morning breeze, glittered and sparkled in the sun. Beyond the water, rising abruptly from its edge, was a great hill, its slope covered with a forest of pine and fur and hemlock. The green expanse of the meadow was broken by islands of maple and oak while several huge granite bowlders stood forth against the sod in all of their grey majesty. The color of the soft, rich summer sky, dotted with floating masses of fleecy white, was reflected in the flashing water. The trees and grass, yet glistening with the morning dew, were a moist green, untouched by the yellow of sun scorch or drought. It was a restful verdancy which spoke of frequent rains, of cool days and of cooler nights.
“Virginia, are you awake?” came the voice of her aunt from the hall.
She climbed hastily back into bed as her aunt entered.