She had decided on a pillow for Caroline's birthday.
"And, Aunt Virginia, there are the cunningest little collars with cuffs to match," Charlotte continued with mischievous eyes.
Miss Virginia grew impatient. It was out of all reason that such desirable things should be brought almost to her door and yet be beyond her reach.
"It wouldn't be giving them much encouragement just to look in the window," observed Charlotte. "I'll tell you," she cried the next minute, "opera glasses!"
"My dear, look at my neighbors through an opera glass?"
"But they want to be looked at," insisted Charlotte, with unanswerable logic.
Miss Virginia allowed herself to be persuaded, and, securely entrenched behind the lace curtain, she levelled her glass. As is ever the case with one who dallies with temptation, the result was an increased desire to have that pillow in her hands.
Standing absorbed in contemplation, she suddenly, without intending it, turned her gaze upon one of the upper windows; and as she did so the muslin draperies parted and a pair of merry eyes belonging to a pretty face looked straight into hers.
"I beg your pardon," cried Miss Virginia, dropping her glass and sinking into a chair, "I shall be ashamed of this to my dying day," she groaned, while Charlotte went off into fits of laughter.
It was some time before she could be brought to realize she had not been seen. "Not that that makes it much better," she added contritely. "And, Charlotte, don't mention it to your Aunt Caroline. I think my ideas of propriety are as strict as hers, but I do not succeed so well in living up to them. I fear I am, as she says, childish."