Josephine coloured with pleasure; and Ida was curious to see one who had inspired them with such respect and admiration; for through Mr. Read's assumed carelessness, it was easy to discover that he was flattered by the promised visit. She gathered from their conversation that they had met Mr. Lacy at the Springs, whither he had gone with an invalid sister. As Virginians, they attached themselves to the Read party,—"the party of the season," so Josephine unblushingly asserted.
Too proud to go into the drawing-room, without an invitation, Ida went to her chamber, to spend the hours between supper and bed-time, in reading.
"Miss Josephine must 'spect her beau; she's mightily fined off," commented Rachel, when she came up from her meal. "I said so! that's the door-bell I Ain't you going down, Miss Ida?"
"No;"—not withdrawing her eyes from her book.
"You ain't a school-girl now, Miss Ida," Rachel remonstrated.
"Well—and if I am not?"
"Why, young ladies ought to see company. I can't bear for you to be hiding up here, just like you was an ediot or performed; and Miss Josephine, who ain't nigh so pretty, nor good, for that matter, is stealing all the beaux."
"In other words, my good Rachel, you want me to get married."
"Yes ma'am," said Rachel boldly; "If you come across any body to suit you, I'd a heap rather you'd be his wife, than to stay here to be pecked at and worried."