“Come, quick!” she exclaimed, “put on your hat, snatch up a basket, and let us be off, for we shall have a grand time of it. The girls are all pretty lazy, and require considerable stirring up, but there is a whole caravan at the door now, waiting for the light of your presence. Come, Ella, you’re a terrible snail! do make haste!”
A strawberry excursion! Dear me, what an idea! my lip curled at the very thoughts of it. Soil and tear my white frock among the brambles, disarrange my carefully smoothed ringlets, and stain my hands like any old strawberry-picker! I, a young lady of seventeen, perform such an undignified part!
“I am sorry, Annie,” I replied, “but you really must excuse me in consequence of a prior engagement.”
“Prior engagement!” repeated the laughing girl, mimicking my tone, as she eyed me from head to foot, “I am afraid you will choke yourself with big words—have you swallowed Webster, my dear? But really,” she continued, with a courtesy of mock reverence, “you must excuse my not being struck with your resplendent appearance before. Pray, if I may be so bold as to ask, what do all these curls mean, and that cross, and that particularly unrumpled-looking dress? Do initiate me as to this prior engagement.”
“I am only going out to tea,” I replied, a little confused, while I determined not to tell her where, for fear of her suspecting me. “But I really think,” said I, “that we are too old to go a-strawberrying, Annie—remember that we are no longer children.”
“Mercy on us! what has got into the girl? too old to go a-strawberrying! If we are too old to gather strawberries,” said she, “we must be too old to eat them, so I advise you to give them up at once. Farewell, Miss Propriety; I shall certainly send you a cap and a pair of spectacles suited to your advanced years. Wherever you are going,” she concluded, “I hope you will enjoy yourself as much as we expect to—but I very much doubt it.”
“So much you know,” thought I; and away bounded my merry visiter, probably to enlighten the waiting bevy as to the nature of my objections, for I soon heard a great deal of buzzing and laughter as the whole troop finally disappeared.
My toilet had received its last finishing touch, I screened my face with a large sun-bonnet, and taking my parasol for further protection, sallied forth. I entered upon my journey in a very pleasant frame of mind; I was benevolently inclined that afternoon, and quite disposed to view every thing in the best possible light; but notwithstanding this happy temper, I became reluctantly convinced that walk was one of the hottest and most disagreeable I had ever taken; the trees were few and far between, so that it was really fatiguing to get from one to the other, and scarcely a blade of grass refreshed the eye—nothing but barren, parched, discouraging looking soil, whereon nothing ever could, would, or did grow. Resolved, however, not to be damped at the very outset, I toiled along, shut my eyes to keep out the sun, and tried to feel happy and contented with my mouth full of dust.
At length, to my great relief, I approached the house, and worn and exhausted as I was, it burst upon me almost like a vision of Paradise—looking as cool and shady as possible in the midst of trees that appeared at least half a century old. I closed the heavy gate behind me, and walked leisurely up the graveled walk, quite charmed and enraptured with every thing I saw. Here and there was placed a handsome marble urn; tubs of orange and lemon-trees lined the whole walk from the house; and in the back-ground I perceived strawberry-beds, cherry-trees, and a large green-house. The steps leading to the front entrance were very broad, and with a light step I sprung up the whole flight, quite prepared for an afternoon of felicity. Those dark, solemn-looking trees—there was something sad in their very grandeur. A low melody played among the leaves as the summer wind wailed gently through them, and I stood watching and listening, fascinated by a strange power, until I almost forgot that I was to enter the house. All appeared very still around, the blinds were closed, and the sound almost startled me as my hand touched the bell.
Some time elapsed before the ring was answered; I was obliged to give another, and another—and at length a slatternly-looking Irish girl made her appearance, who kept the door as closely shut as possible, and by placing her own substantial person in the aperture, effectually prevented my efforts at ingress. She appeared by no means to relish my intention of entering, and saying, in no gentle key: “And is it the misthress ye’d be wanting to see? She’s busy with the childer, and pr’aps will not lave them—but walk in a bit till I see.”