One summer morning, when the air was full of
country sounds, of mowers in the meadow, black-
birds by the brook, and the low of kine upon the
hill-side, the old house wore its cheeriest aspect,
and a certain humble history began.
"Nan!"
"Yes, Di."
And a head, brown-locked, blue-eyed, soft-
featured, looked in at the open door in answer
to the call.
Just bring me the third volume of 'Wilhelm
Meister,' there's a dear. It's hardly worth while
to rouse such a restless ghost as I, when I'm
once fairly laid."
As she spoke, Di PUlled up her black braids,
thumped the pillow of the couch where she was
lying, and with eager eyes went down the last
page of her book.
"Nan!"
"Yes, Laura," replied the girl, coming back
with the third volume for the literay cormorant,
who took it with a nod, still too content upon
the "Confessions of a Fair Saint" to remember
the failings of a certain plain sinner.
"Don't forget the Italian cream for dinner. I
depend upon it; for it's the only thing fit for me
this hot weather.
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