aunt had agreed
should be the schoolroom. It was the back room of the house, though it
had hardly books enough to be called a library. It had been the study or
private room of my grandfather; there was a leather-covered table with an
old bronze standish; some plain bookcases; a large escritoire; a
terrestrial globe; a thermometer and a barometer; and the rest of the
furniture was an abundance of chintz-covered chairs and lounges. These
were very easy and pleasant for use; and long windows opening on the
verandah looked off among the evergreen oaks and their floating grey
drapery; the light in the room and the whole aspect of it was agreeable.
If Miss Pinshon had not been there! But she was there, with a terrible
air of business; setting one or two chairs in certain positions by a
window, and handing one or two books on the table. I stood meek and
helpless, expectant.

"Have you read any history, Daisy?"

I said no; then I said yes, I had; a little.

"What?"

"A little of the history of England last summer."

"Not of your own country?"

"No, ma'am."

"And no ancient history?"

"No, ma'am."

"You know nothing of the division of the nations, of course?"

I answered, nothing. I had no idea what she meant; except that
England, and America, and France, were different, and of course
divided. Of Peleg the son of Eber and the brother of Joktan, I then
knew nothing.

"And arithmetic is something you do not understand," pursued Miss
Pinshon. "Come here, and let me see how you can write."

With trembling, stiff little fingers--I feel them yet--I wrote some
lines under my governess's eye.

"Very unformed," was her comment. "And now, Daisy, you may sit down
there in the window and study the multiplication table. See how much
of it you can get this morning."

Was it to be a morning's work? My heart was heavy as lead. At this hour,
at Melbourne, my task would have been to get my flat hat and rush out
among the beds of flowers; and a little later, to have up Loupe and go
driving whither I would, among the meadows and cornfields. Ah, yes; and
there was Molly who might be taught, and Juanita who might be visited;
and Dr. Sandford who might come like a pleasant gale of wind into the
midst of whatever I was about. I did not stop to think of them now,
though a waft of the sunny air through the open window brought a violent
rush of such images. I tried to shut them out of my head and gave myself
wistfully to "three times o