It's
quite cool enough for comfort at present, and I'm sure that anything more
wouldn't be wholesome. What's become of our beautiful weather?" she asked,
deeply plotting to gain time.
"It's one of our Boston peculiarities, not to say merits," answered Frank,
"which you must have noticed already, that we can get rid of a fine day
sooner than any other region. While you're saying how lovely it is, a
subtle change is wrought, and under skies still blue and a sun still warm
the keen spirit of the east wind pierces every nerve, and all the fine
weather within you is chilled and extinguished. The gray atmosphere
follows, but the day first languishes in yourself. But for this, life in
Boston would be insupportably perfect, if this is indeed a drawback. You'd
find Bostonians to defend it, I dare say. But this isn't a regular east
wind to-day; it's merely our nearness to the sea."
"I think, Franklin," said Aunt Melissa, "that we won't go down to the
beach this afternoon," as if she had been there yesterday, and would go
to-morrow.
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