ngfellow--for, as the sisters had learned, his culture soared beyond
the newspapers--and read aloud, with a fine confusion of consonants, the
poem on "Maidenhood." Evelina lowered her lids while he read. It was a
very beautiful evening, and Ann Eliza thought afterward how different
life might have been with a companion who read poetry like Mr. Ramy.

VII

During the ensuing weeks Mr. Ramy, though his visits were as frequent as
ever, did not seem to regain his usual spirits. He complained frequently
of headache, but rejected Ann Eliza's tentatively proffered remedies,
and seemed to shrink from any prolonged investigation of his symptoms.
July had come, with a sudden ardour of heat, and one evening, as the
three sat together by the open window in the back room, Evelina said:
"I dunno what I wouldn't give, a night like this, for a breath of real
country air."

"So would I," said Mr. Ramy, knocking the ashes from his pipe. "I'd like
to be setting in an arbour dis very minute."

"Oh, wouldn't it be lovely?"

"I always think it's real cool here--we'd be heaps hotter up where Miss
Mellins is," said Ann Eliza.

"Oh, I daresay--but we'd be heaps cooler somewhere else," her sister
snapped: she was not infrequently exasperated by Ann Eliza's furtive
attempts to mollify Providence.

A few days later Mr. Ramy appeared with a suggestion which enchanted
Evelina. He had gone the day before to see his friend, Mrs. Hochmuller,
who lived in the outskirts of Hoboken, and Mrs. Hochmuller had proposed
that on the following Sunday he should bring the Bunner sisters to spend
the day with her.

"She's got a real garden, you know," Mr. Ramy explained, "wid trees and
a real summer-house to set in; and hens and chickens too. And it's an
elegant sail over on de ferry-boat."

The proposal drew no response from Ann Eliza. She was still oppressed by
the recollection of her interminable Sunday in the Park; but, obedient
to Evelina's imperious glance, she finally faltered out an acceptance.

The Sunday was a very hot one, and once on the ferry-boat Ann Eliza
revived at the touch of the salt breeze, and the spectacle of the
crowded waters; but when they reached the other shore, and stepped out
on the dirty wharf, she began to ache with anticipated weariness. They
got into a street-car, and were jolted from one mean street to another,
till at length Mr. Ramy pulled the conductor's sleeve and they got out
again; then they stood in the b