"Pshaw!" said she. "And so we must begin to read silly novels, be very sentimental, talk about tears and flowers, dews and bowers. There is some poetry for you, Bertha. Don't you think I'd better 'astonish the natives,' by writing a poetical rhapsody, nicknamed 'Twilight Reverie,' or some other silly, inappropriate thing, and sending it to the 'Offering?' Oh, how fine this would be! Then I could purchase a few novels, borrow a few more, take a few more from a circulating library; and then shed tears and grow soft over them--all because we are taking a higher stand in the world, you know, Bertha." Bertha again blushed. Ann remained some moments silent. "Did you ever read Pelham?" asked Bertha, by way of breaking the silence. "No; I read no novels, good, bad, or indifferent. I have been thinking, Bertha, that there may be danger of our running away from the reputation we enjoy, as a class. For my part, I sha'n't ape the follies of other classes of females. As Isabel Greenwood says--and you know she is always right about such things--I think we shall lose our independence, originality, and individuality of character, if we all take one standard of excellence, and this the customs and opinions of others. This is a jaw-cracking sentence for me. If any body had uttered it but Isabel, I should, perhaps, have laughed at it. As it was, I treasured it up for use, as I do the wise sayings of Franklin, Dudley, Leavitt, and Robert Thomas. I, for one, shall not attempt to become so accomplished. I shall do as near right as I can conveniently, not because I have a heavy burden of gentility to support, but because it is quite as easy to do right, 'And then I sleep so sweet at night.' "Good morning, Bertha." At the door she met Charlotte, on her return, with lemons, nuts, and cake. "I am in search of a companion for a long ramble," said Ann. "Can you recommend a _subject_?" "I should think Bertha would like to shake herself," said Charlotte. "She has been buried in a novel ever since she was out of bed this morning. It was her turn to do the chamber work this morning; and this is the way she always does, if she can get a novel. She would not mind sitting all day, with dirt to her head. It is a shame for her to do so. She had better be wide awake, enjoying life, as I am." "Nonsense!" exclaimed Ann, in her usual _brusque_ manner. "There is not a cent's choice between you this morning; both are doing wrong, and each is condemning the other without mercy. So far you are both just like me, you see. Good morning."