d pretty."

"Thank you, Carrie," said Florence, with a little blush. "You say
that, I hope, because you are going to like me."

"I like you already," said the little girl, impulsively. "I've got a
cousin that will like you, too."

"A young girl?"

"No; of course not. He is a young man. His name is Percy de Brabazon.
It is a funny name, isn't it? You see, his father was a Frenchman."

Florence was glad that she already knew from Percy's own mouth of the
relationship, as it saved her from showing a degree of surprise that
might have betrayed her acquaintance with the young man.

"What makes you think your cousin would like me, Carrie?"

"Because he always likes pretty girls. He is a masher."

"That's slang, Carrie. I am sure your mamma wouldn't approve your
using such a word."

"Don't tell her. It just slipped out. But about Percy--he wants very
much to be married."

Florence was not surprised to hear this, for she had the best reason
for knowing it to be true.

"Is he a handsome young man?" she asked, demurely.

"He's funny looking. He's awful good-natured, but he isn't the sort of
young man I would like," concluded Carrie, with amusing positiveness.

"I hope you don't let your mind run on such things. You are quite too
young."

"Oh, I don't think much about it. But Percy is a dude. He spends a
sight for clothes. He always looks as if he had just come out of a
bandbox."

"Is he in any business?"

"No; he has an independent fortune, so mamma says. He was in Europe
last year."

"I think, Carrie, we must give up talking and attend to business. I
should have checked you before, but I thought a little conversation
would help us to get acquainted. Now show me your books, and I will
assign your lessons."

"Don't give me too long lessons, please, Miss Linden."

"I will take care not to task you beyond your strength. I don't want
my pupil to grow sick on my hands."

"I hope you won't be too strict. When May Robinson makes two mistakes
her governess makes her learn her lessons over again."

"I will promise not to be too strict. Now let me see your books."

The rest of the forenoon was devoted to study.

Florence was not only an excellent scholar, but she had the art of
imparting knowledge, and, what is very important, she was able in a
few luminous words to explain difficulties and make clear what seemed
to her pupil obscure.

So the time slipped quickly and pleasantly away, and it was noon
before