The Actress in High Life: An Episode in Winter QuartersBowen, Sue Petigru
General
The Actress in High Life: An Episode in Winter Quarters
Bowen, Sue Petigru
Fiction
It was at once arranged that the party should take the field
to-morrow. Mrs. Shortridge, it is true, had no particular taste for
botany. If the flowers in her _bouquet_ were beautiful, or fragrant,
or both, she did not trouble herself about their history, names,
class, order, or alliances; but pleasant company, fresh air, exercise,
and new scenes were inducements enough for her.
CHAPTER VI.
For thee my borders nurse the fragrant wreath,
My fountain murmurs and my zephyrs breathe;
Slow glides the painted snail, the gilded fly
Smooths his fine down to charm thy curious eye;
On twinkling fins my scaly nations play,
Or wind, with sinuous train, their trackless way.
My plumy pairs, in gay embroidery dressed,
Form with ingenious skill the pensile nest;
To Love's sweet notes attune the listening dell,
And Echo sounds her soft symphonious shell.
_The Botanic Garden_.
Betimes the next morning the botanical party were in the saddle.
Mrs. Shortridge rode a mule, the especial favorite of the commissary,
for her sure foot and easy gaits, and Lady Mabel was mounted on her
Andalusian, on whose education Lieut. Goring had bestowed such pains:
but on this occasion she ungratefully omitted to summon her equerry to
attend her.
Descending the granite hill of Elvas, they rode westward across the
fertile valley, their road shut in on either hand by luxuriant
evergreen hedges; for here the dark clay soil was all under
cultivation, and carefully laid out into garden, orchard, or field.
They passed under the arches of the great aqueduct that stretched its
tortuous length across the undulating vale; they paused to admire its
peculiarity of style and structure, and the greatness of the work; to
wonder at the crooked course it ran, and yet more at the little use
the people of Elvas made of its waters for cleaning purposes. Then,
hastening on, they found themselves, at the end of some five miles, in
an open and elevated country. Dismounting here, they left the horses
to the care of their servants. The riding skirts fell to the ground,
the ladies stepped forth in walking costume, and the party commenced
their ramble after flowers, plants, and scenery, directing their steps
toward the high grounds to the northwest of Elvas.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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