and
silver, and of savory eatables, filled the circumference of the board,
leaving just space enough to operate in, and no more. In the centre of
the table, and perceptible both to eyes and nose on entering the room,
was a tall glass dish, lined with wet green leaves, and pyramided with
red strawberries. A comfortable steam ascended from the nose of the
tea-pot, and vanished upward in the gloom of the ceiling; the brown
toast seemed crackling to be eaten; the smooth-cut slices of marbled
beef lay overlapping one another in silent plenteousness; and the knives
and forks glistened to begin. Cornelia opened the entry-door, and called
across to her papa in the study that supper was ready. Then she took up
her position behind her chair, with one hand resting on its back, and a
silent determination that the visitor, whoever he was, should be
impressed with her dignity, condescension, and good looks.

"This is my daughter Cornelia. Mr. Bressant is going to be a pupil of
mine, my dear," said the professor, as he and Bressant advanced into the
room.

He gave his hand an introductory wave in Cornelia's direction as he
spoke, but probably did not speak loud enough to be distinctly beard by
his guest. Nevertheless, seeing the motion and the lady, Bressant
inclined forward his shoulders with an elastic readiness of bearing
which was customary with him, in spite of his unusual stature, and then
took his place at the table without bestowing any further attention upon
her. It passed through Cornelia's mind, as she lifted the tea-pot, that
Mr. Bressant was outrageously conceited, and should be taken down at the
first opportunity. She had made a very graceful courtesy, and it was not
to be overlooked in that way with impunity.

"Milk and sugar, sir?" said she, interrogatively, raising her eyes to
the young man's face with a somewhat gratuitous formality of manner, and
holding a piece of sugar suspended over the cup.

Bressant had certainly been looking in her direction as she spoke; he
had the opposite place to her at table; but instead of replying, even
with a motion of the head, he, after a moment, turned to Professor
Valeyon, who was gently oscillating himself in the rocking-chair he
always occupied at meals, and asked him whether he knew any thing about
a place in town called "Abbie's Boarding-house."

Cornelia laid down the sugar and tongs, and looked very insulted and
flushed. What sort of a creature was this her papa had bro