Susan. So for the last three days you have been reading and poking your needle in and out from morning till night? Well! it would be the death of me. (Gaping.)
Laura. Why no; I tell you I do not like sitting still forever, any more than you do; I like to use my feet every day as well as my hands, and I presume they expect it. Too much stitching gives me a stitch in my side; so when rainy weather came I played battledoor and shuttlecock with father when he came home to dinner, and one day we kept it up to five hundred and two. Then before tea I used to skip rope along the upper entry sometimes; and then there was something else—but I suppose Fanny will tell all the girls in school and make them laugh at me; but I really enjoyed it best of anything.
Fanny. What was it? tell us, do. I hate secrets.
Laura. You like to find them out, I am sure; but it is no mighty secret, after all; and I don’t know why I need be ashamed to tell, for my father and mother made no objection. I went up into the nursery every evening before the little ones went to bed, and played blind man’s buff with them.
Fanny. And could you take any pleasure in it?
Laura. To be sure.
Fanny. Then I must say I had no idea you were such a baby. Mr. Teachall’s best scholar playing romping games with little children! I am six months younger than you, Laura, but I hold myself rather too much of a woman for blind man’s buff! I gave that up three years ago!
Laura. Well! it seemed to make the children enjoy their fun all the better, and I am sure it did me a deal of good, and did nobody any harm; so I am content to be called a baby.
Susan. I don’t see how you could take the trouble; it tires me just to think of going racing about the room at that rate. I should as soon think of sitting down to study French for amusement.
Fanny. I wonder you did not do that too, Miss Busy. I declare she looks as if she had! Who would have thought of that?