settled that after all our talking."

There was a great deal more, oh, a great deal more, and then it was
settled that five in the afternoon should be considered the German
hour--subject to alteration as circumstances should arise.

Mrs. Hollenbeck very discreetly ordered that a beginning should not be
made till the next day but one. "The gentlemen will all be here
to-morrow, and there may be something else going on." I knew very well
she was afraid of Richard, and thought he would not approve her zeal for
our improvement.

The first lesson was very dull work for me. It was agreed that Mary
Leighton and I should take our lesson after the others, sitting beside
them, however, for the benefit of such crumbs of information as might
fall to us.

Mr. Langenau took no special notice of me then, and very little that
was flattering when Mary Leighton and I began our lesson proper. Mrs.
Hollenbeck, Charlotte, and Henrietta took up their books and left, when
the infant class was called. I do not think Mr. Langenau took great
pains to make the study of the German tongue of interest to Miss
Leighton. She was unspeakably bored, and never even learned the
alphabet. She was very much unused to mental application, undoubtedly,
and was annoyed at appearing dull. There was but one door open to her;
to vote German a bore, and give up the class. She made her exit by that
door on the occasion of the second lesson, and Mr. Langenau and I were
left to pursue our studies undisturbed. The rendezvous was the piazza in
fine weather, and the library when it was damp or cloudy. The fidelity
with which the senior Germans gathered up their books and left, when
their hour was over, was mainly due to the kind thoughtfulness of Mrs.
Hollenbeck, who was always prompt, and always found some excuse for
carrying away Charlotte and Henrietta with her when she went.

It can be imagined what those hours were to me, those soft, golden
afternoons. Sometimes we took our books and went out under the trees to
some shaded seats, and sat there till the maid came out to call us in to
tea. Happy, happy hours in dreamland! But what peril to me, and perhaps
to him. It is vain to go over it all: it is enough that of all the happy
days, that hour from six o'clock till tea-time was the happiest: and
that with strange smoothness, day after day passed on without bringing
interruption to it. At six the others went to ride or walk; I was never
called, and did not even wond