looked very interesting. Mother took her to the cold spring, and they
did not return till just at dark, loaded with airy anemones and blue
violets and a few columbines. They had found Mr. John King and his
daughter at the spring, looking for wild-flowers, and mother
introduced Miss Hawthorne; but she hung her head and scarcely
answered, and did not open her lips again, though Mr. King accompanied
them all the way home. He gave mother some columbines, and after a
while said, "I must make your bunch like Mrs. Peabody's, my dear," and
so put some more into Miss Hawthorne's hand.

The day before Mr. Hawthorne had called at noon to see our ladyships,
and I never saw him look so brilliantly rayonnant. He said to me,
"Your story will be finished soon, Sophia--to-morrow or next day." I
was surprised to have the story so appropriated, and I do long to see
it. [Probably Edward Randolph's Portrait.] He proposed to Mary to go
to the beach the same day, and she consented. He said that he had not
spoken to his sister about it, but would do so as soon as he went
home. He wished to go early, and have a good walk. Only think what
progress! To come and propose a walk at mid-day!

He said he had a letter nearly written to you, but should not finish
it till you wrote. He seemed quite impatient to hear from you, and
remarked that he had not heard since you were here. Mary went to
Herbert Street to join Miss Hawthorne for the walk, but did not see
her. Her mother said Elizabeth did not want to go because it was
windy, and the sun was too hot, and clouds were in the south! (It was
the loveliest day in the world.) Was it not too bad to disappoint her
brother so? I could have whipped her. When Mary went the next day
with the tulips, Louisa told her that Elizabeth was very sorry
afterwards that she did not go.