Page:Maurine and Other Poems (1910).pdf/13

 Halves of two nights we should have spent in sleep.

So this third day, we breakfasted at one: Then walked about the garden in the sun, Hearing the thrushes and the robins sing, And looking to see what buds were opening.

The clock chimed three, and we yet strayed at will About the yard in morning dishabille, When Aunt Ruth came, with apron o’er her head, Holding a letter in her hand, and said, “Here is a note, from Vivian I opine; At least his servant brought it. And now, girls, You may think this is no concern of mine, But in my day young ladies did not go Till almost bed-time roaming to and fro In morning wrappers, and with tangled curls, The very pictures of forlorn distress. ’Tis three o’clock, and time for you to dress. Come! read your note and hurry in, Maurine, And make yourself fit object to be seen.”

Helen was bending o’er an almond bush, And ere she looked up I had read the note, And calmed my heart, that, bounding, sent a flush To brow and cheek, at sight of aught he wrote. “Ma Belle Maurine:” (so Vivian’s billet ran,) “Is it not time I saw your cherished guest? ‘Pity the sorrows of a poor young man,’ Banished from all that makes existence blest. I’m dying to see—your friend; and I will come And pay respects, hoping you’ll be at home To-night at eight. Expectantly, V. D.”

Inside my belt I slipped the billet, saying, “Helen, go make yourself most fair to see: Quick! hurry now! no time for more delaying! In just five hours a caller will be here, And you must look your prettiest, my dear! Begin your toilet right away. I know How long it takes you to arrange each bow— To twist each curl, and loop your skirts aright. And you must prove you are au fait to-night, And make a perfect toilet: for our caller Is man, and critic, poet, artist, scholar, And views with eyes of all.”