For the next day an expedition to Croton Lake had been planned. When alone, we never drive on Sunday, except to church, lest our sober Puritan neighbors should be shocked; but as we had a guest for that day, we made an exception to our usual severe rules; for a Sunday in Chappaqua is somewhat gloomy to a visitor. Immediately after breakfast, therefore, the carriage came, and Ida and I, with papa and Mr. Reid, started on this pleasant little excursion, papa mischievously suggesting that we should _look_ pious, and the neighbors would never know that we were _not_ going to church. One little _contretemps_ marked our departure. The Duchess had been lame for a day or two, and another horse had been hired for the day to replace her. The strange horse was evidently the property of a Quaker, and more accustomed to going to meeting than on frivolous pleasure parties, for she was a very staid and subdued animal, and strongly _dis_inclined to keep up with the lively pace adopted by spirited little Lady Alice. The drive, therefore, was decidedly an interesting one. Papa held the reins, and Mr. Reid devoted himself to whipping up the laggard beast. In this style we proceeded over the country at a moderate pace, and finally reached the beautiful lake and the hotel upon its banks. The shade of the broad piazza formed a very pleasant relief from the heat overhead, and we were glad to rest a little while. We had not been there many minutes before some one recognized Mr. Reid, and informed the portly landlord, who immediately hastened upon the scene, and welcomed him to Croton Lake with enthusiasm. In the parlor the piano was open, and half a dozen children were drumming upon it; therefore, seeing that "music" on Sundays was not prohibited by the rules of the house, I went to the piano when the children wearied of it, and sung, at Ida's request, an Ave Maria, and grandpapa's favorite "Rock of Ages." We had some little amusement over the necessity of going four miles from home in order to enjoy music on Sundays. The water looked very inviting, rippling up to the beach, and a row to Croton Dam was proposed. After some little delay, a boat and a very good-natured negro boatman were procured, and we departed. The sun, I must own, was rather hot at that hour of the day, and struck with peculiar force upon our hot bombazine dresses, and heavy crape veils. Ida and I looked with a sigh at Mr. Reid's cool white flannel suit. Sam, the boatman, ceased to row, and let the boat drift, being overcome by the heat, while papa sat in the bow, and looked disconsolate that he had not the morning news to read. We were now at quite a distance from the shore, and as there was no one present but the boatman to be shocked by hearing secular music, I ventured to sing a few simple ballads, for music and water I think blend most harmoniously.