Our sprightly brunette friend with the merry black eyes, Mrs. Acheson, looked unusually pretty and charming yesterday.  I love to describe stylish toilettes as well as any fashion-writer; so here is hers in all its details:  steel-colored silk trimmed with turquoise blue, demi-traine, her hair beautifully dressed (or coiffured, to use the fashionable newspaper word) in puffs and rolls, and finished with a little blue feather; while an elegant fan attached to half a yard of gold chain depended from her belt.

When the 4.45 train was at hand, Ida and I walked down to the station with our friends.  Quite luckily there was a drawing-room car attached to the train, although such luxury is generally confined to the express, which does not stop here.  I learnt, however, from the station-master, that this car had borne some happy pair as far as Albany the day before, had stayed there over-night for repairs, and was now returning in a leisurely manner to New York.

CHAPTER VII.

Midsummer Day—­An Artist’s Visit—­Ida’s Letter—­Moonlight on Croton Lake—­Morning Readings—­Plato and Kohlrausch.

June 21.

In honor of Midsummer Day, Marguerite and I have spent the morning at the piano, playing Mendelssohn’s delicious fairy music from the Midsummer Night’s Dream.

We have had little time to practise or read this week, for company has been of almost daily occurrence; Marguerite returned yesterday morning from a flying visit to the city, accompanied by our friends, Colonel Rogers and Mr. Hows, the artist, who is a neighbor of ours in our rural part of the city—­Cottage Place.  Colonel Rogers was dressed entirely in gray, a costume that looked delightfully cool, and was a perfect match for his eyes.

The morning was spent in playing croquet, and in showing our guests over the place, whose wild beauty delighted Mr. Hows’ artistic eyes.  We walked first to the flower-garden, where we gathered flowers to dress the table for dinner, and then visited the pine grove, the romantic dell, and the stone barn of which uncle was always so proud, where we spent an hour amid the sweet hay.

For the evening a drive was proposed, as we have now quite recovered from our former dread of malaria.  Ida held the ribbons on this occasion, and as I was not one of the party, I will insert her graceful description of the pleasant evening.

“CHAPPAQUA.

“DEAR JULIA:  I was so sorry to get your letter saying you could not come.  I wish you had not let your tiresome old dressmaker deprive me of the pleasure of your company on our expedition to Croton Lake.

“I must tell you all about the delightful time we had.  Two of the numerous friends of our blue-eyed Marguerite, Colonel Rogers and Mr. Hows, whose exquisite pictures you and I have so often enjoyed together, were our cavaliers on this occasion.  As our light carriage only has room for four, I drove the ponies myself.  We started just about sundown, and the pleasant coolness of evening came on while there was still daylight enough to light up the constantly changing panorama of hill and dale, and forest and distant river, beyond which the blue mountain range dimly seen, now seemed to emerge into bolder relief, and again to fade back into cloud-land.