And so the morning passed. It was nearly two o'clock, and the company
dispersed to their apartments. I pretend not to know what they did
there; but each one returned between three and four in an altered dress.
And then half an hour elapsed, in which, as I understood from their
impatience, they were waiting for dinner; each in turn complaining of
the waste of time occasioned by its delay, and the little use it would
be to go about any thing when it was so near. And as soon as dinner was
over, they began to wait for tea with exactly the same complainings. And
the tea came, and, cheered by the vivifying draught, one did repair to
the instrument, and began a tune; one did take up a pencil, and prepare
to draw; and one almost opened a book. But, alas! the shades of night
were growing fast:--ten minutes had scarcely elapsed, before each one
resigned her occupation, with a murmur at the darkness of the weather;
and, though some persons suggested that there were such things as lamps
and candles, it was agreed to be a pity to have lights so early in the
midst of summer, and so another half hour escaped.

The lights, when they came, would have failed to relumine an expectation
in my bosom, had not their beams disclosed the forms of various books,
which one and another had brought in for the evening's amusement. Again
I watched and again I listened. "I wish I had something to do, mamma,"
said the little girl. "Why do you not take a book, and read?" rejoined
her mother. "My books are all up stairs," she replied; "and it is so
near bedtime, it is not worth while to bring them down." "This is the
best novel I ever read," said a lady, somewhat older, turning the leaves
over so very fast, that those who are not used to this manner of
reading, might suppose she found nothing in it worthy of attention. "I
dare say it is," said another, whose eyes had been fixed for half an
hour on the same page of Wordsworth's Poems; "but I have no time to read