[figure description] Page 045.[end figure description]

The lecture-room was in the rear of the house, and
opened upon a long portico which overlooked a handsome
falling garden full of flowers, of which Mrs. Courtlandt
was very fond, and shaded by tall trees, whose leaves
were just beginning to turn yellow. The lecture-room
was not finished with the extreme beauty of the one they
had just left, where the chisel of some Benvenuto Cellini,
seemed to have shaped the cornices and wainscoting, so
admirably carved were the wreathes of flowers, and delicate
traceries of drooping vines. Here the modern and
practical seemed to have routed the antique and poetical.

The room was full of electrical machines, Leyden jars,
telescopes, black boards, slates and school-books. On the
benches lay, half-open, “Natural Philosophies,” “Euclids,”
algebras, atlases, and geographies—with here and there a
carelessly thrown down sun-bonnet. After traveling with
much dissatisfaction through the most beautiful regions
of the world—radiant in blue and yellow—the school-girls
had, with the greatest satisfaction, betaken themselves to
an exploration of ground nearer home—namely, the yards
and garden of the convent.

Mrs. Courtlandt was devoted to science for its own sake—
laborious study and acts of charity absorbed her whole
mind, and time, and interest.

Max looked round on this heterogeneous assemblage of
his school day tormentors, and blest his stars that he was

[figure description] Page 046.[end figure description]

no longer a child, and among his childish things had put
away algebras and geographies. Mrs. Courtlandt looked
at the electrical machines as if they were trusty friends—
well beloved. She turned a handle, and with a discharging
rod emptied a jar.

“This is my invention nephew,” she said, “see how
rapidly the electricity accumulated.”

“I like electricity and geometry, aunt,” Max replied,
“and that is nearly all.”

“You never would study any thing long enough,” she
said, “ah, the young people are growing so frivolous.”

“I am not frivolous, aunt.”

“You all are.”

“Then every thing but science is frivolous.”

“I did not mean that—you know Max, that I have
never been opposed to harmless diversion.”

“`Harmless diversion,”' repeated the young man to
himself, “that seems to me to be the exact description of
dancing—and now or never, is my opportunity to keep
my promise to Monsieur Pantoufle. Honor bright!”

“Aunt,” said Max, “I don't think you observed how
elegantly my head is powdered—did you?”

“No—I observe it now, however.”

“Isn't it elegant?”

Mrs. Courtlandt smiled.

“You certainly came to see some of my scholars—
most probably Josephine—instead of an old woman, like
myself.”

“You an old woman! My dear aunt, you know
you—”

“No flattery, Max—recollect it is thrown away on me;—
how can you be so foolish.”

“I was only going to say what every body says, aunt,
that you are lovely; you know I think you are, and if I
did want to see Josephine, I came to see you to-day—indeed
I did. And Monsieur Pantoufle powdered my hair,

[figure description] Page 047.[end figure description]

because I said I was coming to see you—how obliging in
him!” said Max, laughing.

“Did the dancing-master himself powder your hair?”

“Monsieur Pantoufle himself.”

“Why, you must have given him love-powders—he so
punctilious—”

“I gave him something better than love-powders for
his hair-powder, aunt.”

“What was that?”

“I gave him a promise.”

“A promise?”

“Yes, and you know I always keep my promises. I
promised to recommend him to you for a dancing-master—
to teach all those charming and graceful young
damsels hopping about out there in the garden how to
lance!”

Mrs. Courtlandt's face assumed a curious expression.

“Monsieur Pantoufle my dancing master!” she said.

“Oh, no—not yours, aunt—not teach you to dance;
you dance now, elegantly I have heard, especially the
minuet.”

“Well, if I have danced when I was young and giddy,”
said Mrs. Courtlandt, with a sigh, “I do not now.”

“But you don't disapprove of it?”

“No—not at all; you know how often I have played
minutes for yourself and Josephine. I suppose the town
would think I was crazy, if they saw me seated at the
harpsichord playing, while you young folks were courtesying
and bowing about the room to the music. I will
think of Monsieur Pantoufle's request, and if my scholars
obtain permission from their parents, they shall find no
obstacle in a refusal from their old schoolmistress. I do
not disapprove of dancing, or any other harmless pleasure,
nephew—heaven forbid! young people will be young
people, and if I feel as old as Methuselah, it does not
prove that they must feel so too. No, no—I am very

[figure description] Page 048.[end figure description]

eccentric and odd, I suppose, but I am no enemy to innocent
enjoyment.”

“You are the best and sweetest woman I know in the
whole world, aunt,” cried the young man, catching the
dreadful Mrs. Courtlandt in his arms, and saluting her
with an enthusiastic kiss.

At that moment Max heard a subdued “hem!” behind
him. He turned round, and found himself face to face
with Miss Josephine Emberton.