L., engaged in crocheting or other fancy work._
B. Well, ma, what do you think now? Isn’t Eunice the most countrified
specimen you ever saw?
MRS. A. I must admit that she is decidedly rustic.
B. But did you notice the blunders she made at dinner?
MRS. A. I saw that she ate with her knife, and didn’t use her napkin.
B. (_much amused_). That reminds me that when I took my napkin from the
ring, she asked me if I used a towel in my lap because I was afraid of
spoiling my dress. She also said that, at home, the younger children
wore bibs, and she wondered we didn’t put one on to Isabel. (_Greatly
amused._) Imagine Isabel,—a girl nine years old, with a bib on!
MRS. A. I’m afraid she wouldn’t submit to it very quietly.
B. Then she took butter from the plate with her own knife, and when pa
asked her if she would have more of the meat, she said, “No; I’ve had
enough for this time.”
MRS. A. I think your father must have noticed her awkwardness.
B. I don’t see how he could help it. But he would not allow her to see
that he noticed it.
MRS. A. What did she say to the piano? I heard you playing for her.
B. (_laughing_). She thought it was a queer-looking thing, and said it
must be hard to work it.
MRS. A. Where is she now?
B. She has retired. She said she always went to bed as soon as it grew
dark. I should think she had been living in the woods all her life.
MRS. A. And yet, with all her blunders, she is quite pretty, and dresses
with a good deal of taste.
B. That is true. And yet, with such an ignorance of conventional rules,
what sort of a figure will she make at our party?
MRS. A. You will have to make the best of it, and hint to any one that
you may introduce to her that she is a country cousin.
(_Curtain falls._)