TAKING TEA SOCIABLY.
FROM MY BUDGET OF ADVENTURES.
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BY ELLA RODMAN.
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It was a most lovely afternoon in June, neither inconveniently warm nor uncomfortably chilly; the birds were singing merrily around, the breeze came clear and refreshing, and an inexpressible gladness seemed to be borne on the very atmosphere, while I stood in a state of considerable satisfaction before the toilet-glass in my own particularly pleasant little room. Not that I was in the least vain; oh no, I do not think I was, because I remember wishing that my nose was not quite so retroussé, and wondering if people could have the assurance to call my eyes green, though, to tell the truth, I did not exactly know what else to call them myself. I was going out to tea that afternoon; not to meet a bevy of girls and get up a complete frolic, but to see an old friend of my mother’s, a regular married woman, with several responsibilities, who claimed all her care and attention—a place where there was not an article in the shape of a beau, and yet I wished to be particularly fascinating, interesting, and agreeable. I wore nothing but a simple white muslin to be sure, yet I think I have seldom, if ever, taken as much pains with my toilet as on that particular afternoon. I brushed, and brushed my hair, which would friz in spite of me; and at last, finding that I could do no better, I concluded to be sweet simplicity in natural curls and unadorned innocence. I was pretty short, and pretty stout, and not much calculated for a heroine at best, and yet as I clasped a certain little gold cross around my neck, I fell to building castles in the air, and dreaming scenes from life, in which I figured as chief performer.
Must I explain? It is rather awkward to expose one’s own little plots and manœuvres, but I really see no help for it, as this particular one happens to be the centre around which all my movements revolved. We lived in the village, which was quite a pretty collection of half houses half villas, but still it was not quite the country; there were no handsome edifices standing far back from the road, with noble, English-looking lawns in front, and endless gardens and a beautiful water prospect back; oh no! every thing looked far more exact and methodical, and an actual tea-drinking, with strawberries and cream, at a real country-seat was not to be despised. There was a very handsome place about a mile from the village, which had lately been taken by an old friend of my mother’s, who, on moving from the city, was considerably shocked and discouraged by the many inconveniences attending a residence in the country.
Mrs. Morfield, when she had time, was a very entertaining woman, and always had a great deal to say to my mother, and not much in particular to me; but she had repeatedly pressed me in a very kind manner to come and take tea with her sociably; and having never before availed myself of this invitation, I had now concluded to go. Mrs. Morfield’s good qualities, however, were considerably enhanced in my estimation by the knowledge of her being the happy sister of a brother who had been quite a favorite with me in my younger days. It was now three years since Henry Auchinclass departed for college, and during that time I had never once seen him, but his name had been frequently brought forward with a grand flourish of trumpets, till my curiosity was quite excited to see if he had altered so much from what I remembered him. Once a fugitive piece of poetry fell into my hands, after passing through various channels, and having just begun to admire sentiment, this production of my old playmate’s stirred up all my ecstasy and enthusiasm. Prizes were showered upon him at every examination, and in the eyes of his old acquaintances his brow was encircled with a wreath of laurel that raised him almost to a level with Shakspeare and Milton. This hero was now actually coming among us with all his honors fresh upon him; whether he really had arrived, or was going to arrive that afternoon, I did not know, but thinking it extremely probable that, as the distance from Mr. Auchinclass was not far, he would visit his sister as soon as possible, I was seized with a sudden fancy to execute one of my long promised tea-drinkings. At our last parting something of a fracas took place; but I was quite a juvenile then, not more than fourteen, and now, with the experience and improvement of three additional years, I collected all my energies to startle him with my fancied transformation.
There was a gentle tap at my door, and, her face quite radiant with excitement and anticipation, in walked (or rather bounded, for she never walked,) my chosen colleague, Annie Wilmot. A small basket hung on her arm, a huge sun-bonnet almost concealed her pretty face, and she was evidently bound on a strawberry excursion.