I followed my conductor, and entered an apartment on the first floor, which evidently answered the purpose of a dining-room, and was, without exception, as dismal-looking an apartment as I ever entered. The black hair-cloth sofa was ornamented with slits in various places, from which the stuffing was peeping forth, an exploit of which the young Morfields were particularly proud; the chairs were in the same condition, the carpet was torn in various places, and the whole room had a very poverty-stricken appearance. On the mantel-piece were two large glass jars, covering pots of very unnatural-looking artificial flowers, considerably faded; over the sofa hung a picture of a sinking ship, and on one side a representation of Robinson Crusoe landed on the desert island. I felt irresistibly drawn toward that picture—it was dark, gloomy, and discouraging, and it sympathized with my own feelings. My hopes, too, had suffered a complete wreck; I entered upon the expedition with warm, glowing feelings, but the walk, the Irish woman, and the hopeless-looking apartment had blasted them entirely; and I was almost wishing myself with the strawberry party, when the door opened, and Mrs. Morfield entered, with a very bold, staring baby in her arms.
She appeared delighted to see me, and welcomed me so cordially, that I quite forgot my recent dissatisfaction. She had one of the most sunny, joyful dispositions I have ever encountered; she would have turned a desert island into sunshine, and laughed at every trouble that came in her way. Her temper must have been a happy one to stand the wear and tear of six noisy boys; but although a delightful and entertaining companion, she would have been still more so had she not always been in a hurry. All she said was uttered so fast that her auditors were in continual fear of her losing her breath; and one carefully avoided lengthy replies with her, she always seemed so pressed for time.
“I am very glad,” said she, with a merry laugh, “that you have come, for my own sake—and very sorry for yours, for both cook and nurse left me this morning in a fit of ill-temper; and as I have only Kitty for a helper, I am afraid you will fare but poorly for your tea. However, I shall not make a stranger of you.”
I hastened to assure her that it was not of the least consequence to me, for I thought to myself that with strawberries and cherries, a person need not care for any thing else; and having succeeded in setting her mind at ease on that point, she proposed that we should leave our room for some other apartment. “Exactly like Kitty to put you here,” said she, laughing, “but we will try if we cannot find a pleasanter.”
The baby, who behaved very much like a wooden machine, with the exception of staring and sucking its fingers, was again clasped in her arms, and we proceeded to the parlors. The blinds were shut closely and fastened to, and Mrs. Morfield, encumbered with the baby, tried in vain to open them. I gazed around, as well as I was able in the dark, and saw that the rooms were very large and handsomely furnished—having a cool appearance that was extremely pleasant. Very well satisfied with this prospect, I lent my assistance to unfasten the shutters—but in vain, they were obstinately determined not to open; and with a sigh I followed Mrs. Morfield into the hall.
“Come here,” said she, as she threw open a door on the other side, “here is a room that will just suit you, Miss Ella. I believe you are a little romantic, and the prospect from these windows cannot fail to please you.”
It was a complete fairy bower; the floor was covered with a light straw matting; the pretty French bedstead had a canopy of thin white muslin, bordered with lace, with a corresponding cover on the little toilet-table; the chairs were of wood, prettily painted, and every thing looked as light, airy, and country-like as possible. I was in ecstasies with the whole arrangement, and on glancing from the window, I found that the prospect quite justified Mrs. Morfield’s praises. Directly beneath was the green, close-shaven lawn, studded with wide-spreading trees, across which a majestic peacock every now and then strutted in all the glory of beauty and splendor; while far away rose a dim, indistinct mist of blue waters and purple mountains.
Mrs. Morfield, having placed her marvelous baby on the floor—marvelous because it had been so quiet—seated herself in a low rocking-chair, and gave me the whole history of her morning’s misfortunes. I was totally uninterested in the whole proceeding, but not being required to make any responses, I fixed my eyes on the scene without, and listened patiently to the end. She then commenced a panegyric on the still piece of humanity that sat sucking its shoe, which was quite natural, considering that it was the only sister of six brothers. I even joined in these praises, for its not crying appeared to me remarkable; and I began to think that I had at length met with that often-described, but always invisible curiosity—a good baby! The young lady was lifted from the floor, and even bribed to sit on my lap, which surprised me still more, as babies always had an invincible repugnance to me, which I returned with interest, and no performance was more disagreeable to me than baby-talk. I quite sympathized with the old bachelor, who, having picked up a woman and baby on the road, took them into his wagon on condition that the mother refrained from talking nonsense to her child. This the lady readily promised; but forgetting at length the scruples of her companion, she burst forth with: “Bless its little heart! so it should go ridy pidy in the coochee poochee—” “Get out of my wagon!” thundered the exasperated gentleman.
But the baby in question behaved remarkably well, and I really began to feel quite an attachment for it. It was no great beauty, certainly; and I did think I had seen heads that boasted more hair; but in its mother’s eyes it was pre-eminently lovely, and as I wished to earn a character for amiability, I praised it up to the skies. Its eyes were round, and very staring, so I remarked on their unusual size, and Mrs. Morfield observed complacently that they were exactly like its father’s—its forehead was high and broad, which of course was a mark of genius—and thus, with my own skill, and some promptings from the mother, I patched up quite a beauty out of materials which seemed to have been thrown together at random.
We had been chatting gayly for some time, and with the prospect from the window, the charming room, and the pleasant manners of Mrs. Morfield, to say nothing of what was yet in expectancy, I looked forward to a delightful afternoon, when my entertainer suddenly rose, and declaring she had quite forgotten Kitty, requested me to watch the child during her absence.