bliss! We will bathe every morning. You
have never seen me dive, Rose."

"I have not," said Rose; "and it would be a pity to do it out of the
window, dear, because in the first place I should only see your heels as
you went out, and in the second--"

"Peace, paltry soul!" cried Hilda. "Here comes a scow, loaded with wood.
The wood has been wet, and is all yellow and gleaming. 'Scow,'--what an
absurd word! 'Barge' is prettier."

"It sounds so like Shalott," said Rose; "I must come and look too.

"'By the margin, willow-veiled,
Slide the heavy barges, trailed
By slow horses.'"

"Yes, it is just like it!" cried Hildegarde. "It is really a redeeming
feature in you, Rose, that you are so apt in your quotations. Say the
part about the river; that is exactly like what I am looking at."

"Do you say it!" said Rose, coming softly forward, and taking her seat
beside her friend. "I like best to hear you."

And Hildegarde repeated in a low tone,--

"Willows whiten, aspens quiver,
Little breezes dusk and shiver
Through the wave that runs forever
By the island in the river
Flowing down to Camelot."

The two girls squeezed each other's hand a little, and looked at the
shining river, and straightway forgot that there was anything else to be
done, till a sharp little tinkle roused them from their dream.

"Oh!" cried Hildegarde. "Rose, how _could_ you let me go
a-woolgathering? Just look at my hair!"

"And my hands!" said Rose, in dismay. "And we said we were as hungry as
hunters, and would be down in a minute. What will Miss Bond say?"

"Well, it is all the river's fault," said Hildegarde, splashing
vigorously in the basin. "It shouldn't be so lovely! Here, dear, here is
fresh water for you. Now the brush! Let me just wobble your hair up for
you, so. There! now you are my pinkest Rose, and I am all right too; so
down we go."

Miss Wealthy had been seriously disturbed when the girls did not appear
promptly at sound of the tea-bell. She took her seat at the tea-table
and looked it over carefully. "Punctuality is so important," she said,
half to herself and half to Martha, who had just set down the
teapot,--"That mat is not _quite_ straight, is it, Martha?--especially
in young people. I know it makes you nervous, Martha,"--Martha did not
look in the least nervous,--"but it will probably not happen again. If
the butter were a _little_ farther this way!