I preferred to stay at home and write letters . They are done now , and I am going to Valrosa to sketch , will you come ? '' said Amy , as she joined Laurie one lovely day when he lounged in as usual , about noon . `` Well , yes , but is n't it rather warm for such a long walk ? '' he answered slowly , for the shaded salon looked inviting after the glare without . `` I 'm going to have the little carriage , and Baptiste can drive , so you 'll have nothing to do but hold your umbrella , and keep your gloves nice , '' returned Amy , with a sarcastic glance at the immaculate kids , which were a weak point with Laurie . `` Then I 'll go with pleasure . '' and he put out his hand for her sketchbook . But she tucked it under her arm with a sharp ... `` Do n't trouble yourself . It 's no exertion to me , but you do n't look equal to it . '' Laurie lifted his eyebrows and followed at a leisurely pace as she ran downstairs , but when they got into the carriage he took the reins himself , and left little Baptiste nothing to do but fold his arms and fall asleep on his perch . The two never quarreled . Amy was too well-bred , and just now Laurie was too lazy , so in a minute he peeped under her hatbrim with an inquiring air . She answered him with a smile , and they went on together in the most amicable manner . It was a lovely drive , along winding roads rich in the picturesque scenes that delight beauty-loving eyes . Here an ancient monastery , whence the solemn chanting of the monks came down to them . There a bare-legged shepherd , in wooden shoes , pointed hat , and rough jacket over one shoulder , sat piping on a stone while his goats skipped among the rocks or lay at his feet . Meek , mouse-colored donkeys , laden with panniers of freshly cut grass passed by , with a pretty girl in a capaline sitting between the green piles , or an old woman spinning with a distaff as she went . Brown , soft-eyed children ran out from the quaint stone hovels to offer nosegays , or bunches of oranges still on the bough . Gnarled olive trees covered the hills with their dusky foliage , fruit hung golden in the orchard , and great scarlet anemones fringed the roadside , while beyond green slopes and craggy heights , the Maritime Alps rose sharp and white against the blue Italian sky .
XXXXX well deserved its name , for in that climate of perpetual summer roses blossomed everywhere .
Baptiste Laurie Valrosa bunches distaff donkeys goats left minute panniers