oudly. "I shall be as if it were no more an exile when I repeat my
tongue to you!"

And so it was settled. Why Miss Lucinda should learn French any more
than dancing was not a question in Monsieur Leclerc's mind. It is true,
that Chaldaic would, in all probability, be as useful to our friend as
French; and the flying over poles and hanging by toes and fingers, so
eloquently described by the Apostle of the Body in these "Atlantic"
pages, would have been as well adapted to her style and capacity as
dancing;--but his own language, and his own profession! what man would
not have regarded these as indispensable to improvement, particularly
when they paid his board?

During the latter three weeks of Monsieur Leclerc's stay with Miss
Lucinda he made himself surprisingly useful. He listed the doors against
approaching winter breezes,--he weeded in the garden,--trimmed, tied,
trained, wherever either good office was needed,--mended china with an
infallible cement, and rickety chairs with the skill of a cabinet-maker;
and whatever hard or dirty work he did, he always presented himself at
table in a state of scrupulous neatness: his long brown hands showed no
trace of labor; his iron-gray hair was reduced to smoothest order;
his coat speckless, if threadbare; and he ate like a gentleman, an
accomplishment not always to be found in the "best society," as the
phrase goes,--whether the best in fact ever lacks it is another thing.
Miss Lucinda appreciated these traits,--they set her at ease; and a
pleasanter home-life could scarce be painted than now enlivened the
little wooden house. But three weeks pass away rapidly; and when the
rusty portmanteau was gone from her spare chamber, and the well-worn
boots from the kitchen-corner, and the hat from its nail, Miss Lucinda
began to find herself wonderfully lonely. She missed the armfuls of wood
in her wood-box, that she had to fill laboriously, two sticks at a time;
she missed the other plate at her tiny round table, the other chair
beside her fire; she missed that dark, thin, sensitive face, with its
rare and sweet smile; she wanted her story-teller, her yarn-winder,
her protector, back again. Good gracious! to think of an old lady of
forty-seven entertaining such sentiments for a man!

Presently the dancing-lessons commenced. It was thought advisable that
Miss Manners should enter a class, and, in the fervency of her good
intentions, she did not demur. But gratitude and respect had to