had a little headache, and spent much of the morning in her room. The
boys were away with their tutor in the farm-house where they had their
school-room, and the house seemed deserted and delightful. I wandered
about at ease, chose my book, and sat for hours in the boat-house by the
river, not reading Ruskin, nor even my poor little novel, but gazing and
dreaming and wondering. It can be imagined what the country seemed to
me, in beautiful summer weather, after the dreary years I had spent in a
city-street.

It is quite impossible to describe all that seemed starting into life
within me, all at once--- so many new forces, so much new life.

My home-sickness had passed away, and I was inclined to be very happy,
particularly in the liberty that seemed to promise. Dinner was very
quiet, and every one seemed dull, even Charlotte Benson, who ordinarily
had life enough for all. The boys were there, but their tutor had gone
away on a long walk and would not be back till evening. "_A la bonne
heure_," cried Madame, with a little yawn; "freedom of the halls, and
deshabille, for one afternoon."

So we spent the afternoon with our doors open, and with books, or
without books, on the bed.

Nobody came into my room, except Mrs. Hollenbeck for a few moments,
looking very pretty in a white peignoir, and rather sleepy at the same
time; hoping I was comfortable and had found something to amuse me in
the library.

It seemed to be thought a great bore to dress, to judge from the
exclamations of ennui which I heard in the hall, as six o'clock