Table of Contents
'Girls, I have had a scintillation in the night: listen and approve!' said Amanda, coming into the room where her comrades sat upon the floor, in the first stages of despair, at the impossibility of getting the accumulated rubbish of three months' travel into a couple of immense trunks.
'Blessed girl! you always bring a ray of light just at the darkest moment,' returned Lavinia, with a sigh of relief, while Matilda looked over a barricade of sketch-books bristling with paint-brushes, and added anxiously—
'If you could suggest how I am to work this miracle, you will be a public benefactor.'
'Behold the amendment I propose,' began Amanda, perching herself on one of the arks. 'We have decided to travel slowly and comfortably through France to Switzerland, stopping where we like, and staying as long as we please at any place we fancy, being as free as air, and having all the world before us where to choose, as it were.'
'The route you have laid out is a charming one, and I don't see how you can improve it,' said Lavinia, who, though she was supposed to be the matron, guide, and protector of the younger girls, was in reality nothing but a dummy, used for Mrs. Grundy's sake, and let the girls do just as they pleased, only claiming the right to groan and moan as much as she liked when neuralgia, her familiar demon, claimed her for its own.
'One improvement remains to be made. Are these trunks a burden, a vexation of spirit, a curse?' demanded Amanda, tapping one with her carefully cherished finger-tips.
'They are! they are!' groaned the others, regarding the monsters with abhorrence.
'Then let us get rid of them, and set out with no luggage but a few necessaries in a shawl-strap.'
'We will! we will!' returned the chorus.
'Shall we burn up our rubbish, or give it away?' asked Lavinia, who liked energetic measures, and was ready to cast her garments to the four winds of heaven, to save herself from the agonies of packing.
'I shall never give up my pictures, nor my boots!' cried Matilda, gathering her idols to her breast in a promiscuous heap.
'Be calm and listen,' returned the scintillator. 'Pack away all but the merest necessaries, and we will send the trunk by express to Lyons. Then with our travelling-bags and bundles, we can follow at our leisure.'
''Tis well! 'tis well!' replied the chorus, and they all returned to their packing, which was performed in the most characteristic manner.
Amanda never seemed to have any clothes, yet was always well and appropriately dressed; so it did not take her long to lay a few garments, a book or two, a box of Roman-coin lockets, scarabæ brooches, and cinque-cento rings, likewise a swell hat and habit, into her vast trunk; then lock and label it in the most business-like and thorough manner.
Matilda found much difficulty in reconciling paint-pots and silk gowns, blue hats and statuary, French boots and Yankee notions. But order was at length produced from chaos, and the young lady refreshed her weary soul by painting large red M's all over the trunk to mark it for her own.
Miss Lavinia packed and repacked four or five times, forgetting needfuls, which, of course, were always at the very bottom. At the fifth plunge into the depths her patience gave out, and with a vow to be a slave no longer to her treacherous memory, she tumbled every thing in, performed a solemn jig on the lid till it locked, then pasted large, but illegible placards in every available spot, and rested from her labours with every nerve in a throbbing condition.
Shawl-straps of the largest, strongest sort were next procured, and the three bundles made up with much discussion and merriment.
Into Amanda's went a volume of Shakspeare of great size and weight, but as indispensable as a tooth-brush to its owner; toilette-articles tied up in a handkerchief, a few necessary garments, and much paper—for Amanda was inspired with poetic fire at unexpected moments, also had five hundred bosom friends, in answering whose epistolary gushings much stationery was consumed. A pistol, a massive crust of bread, and an oval box containing all the dainty appliances for the culture, preservation, and ornamentation of the finger-nails, made up her store.
Matilda's bundle consisted of sketch-books, a trifle of haberdashery, a curling-stick that was always tumbling out at inopportune moments, yards of blue ribbon, and a camp-stool strapped outside in company with a Japanese umbrella, a gift from the stout doctor, destined to be cursed in many languages by the unhappy beings into whose backs, eyes, and stomachs it was poked before its wanderings ended.
Lavinia confined herself to a choice collection of bottles and pill-boxes, fur boots, a grey cloud, and several French novels—the solace of wakeful nights. A scarlet army blanket, with U. S. in big black letters on it, enveloped her travelling medicine-chest, and lent a cheerful air to the sombre spinster, whose black attire and hoarse voice made the sobriquet of Raven most appropriate.
With these imposing bundles in one hand, little pouches slung over the shoulder, plain travelling-suits, subdued hats, and resolute but benign countenances, our three errant damsels set forth one bright June day, to wander through France at their own sweet will. Not a fear assailed them; for all men were civil, all women friendly, and the world wore its sunniest aspect. Not a doubt perplexed them; for the gifted Amanda spoke many tongues, understood all sorts of money, could grapple successfully with Murray and Bradshaw, and never got into the wrong corporation when she traced a route with unerring accuracy through the mysteries of an Indicator. No lord and master, in the shape of brother, spouse, or courier, ordered their outgoings and incomings; but liberty the most entire was theirs, and they enjoyed it heartily. Wisely and well too; for, though off the grand route, they behaved themselves in public as decorously as if the eyes of all prim Boston were upon them, and proved by their triumphant success, that the unprotected might go where they liked, if they conducted themselves with the courtesy and discretion of gentlewomen.
How pleasant were the early sail down the Ranee from Dinan to St. Malo, the comfortable breakfast in the flowery little court of Hôtel Franklin, and the stroll afterward about the quaint old town, looking at the churches, buying fruit, and stoutly resisting the temptations of antique jewelry displayed in the dingy shops! Lavinia never forgave herself, however, for not securing a remarkable watch, and Amanda sighed months afterward for a Breton collar and cross of charming antiquity and ugliness.
Matilda boldly planted her camp-stool, unfurled her umbrella, and, undaunted by the crowd of round-capped, blue-bloused, wooden-shoed children about her, began to draw the church.
'I intend to study architecture, and to sketch all the cathedrals we see,' said the ardent art-student, struggling manfully with the unruly umbrella, the unsavoury odours from the gutter, and the garrulous crowd leaning over her shoulder, peering under her hat-brim, and examining all her belongings with a confiding freedom rather embarrassing.
'Do you know what impertinent things these little scamps are saying to you?' asked Amanda, pausing in a lecture on surface drainage which she was delivering to Lavinia, who was vainly struggling to cram a fat wine bottle, a cabbage leaf of strawberries, and some remarkable cakes into the lunch-basket.
'No: I don't; and that is the advantage of not knowing any language but my own,' complacently replied Matilda, who considered all study but that of art as time wasted, and made her small store of French answer admirably by talking very loud and fast, and saying, 'Oui, oui, oui,' on all occasions with much gesticulation, and bows and smiles of great suavity and sweetness.
'Clear
