nge, and I think my pink
grenadine quite dazzled him as I stood on the piazza. Then came the
brotherly and quite natural desire to outshine Richard and put things
out a little. I liked it all very much, and was charmed to be of so much
consequence, for I saw all this quite plainly. I laughed and talked a
good deal with Kilian; he was delightful to laugh and talk with. Even
Eugene Whitney found me more worth his weak attention than the beautiful
and placid Henrietta.

The amusement was chiefly at our end of the table. But amidst it, I did
not fail to glance often at the door and wonder, uncomfortably, why the
tutor did not come.

As we left the table and lingered for a few moments in the hall, Richard
came up to me and said, as he prepared to light his cigar, "Will you not
come out and walk up and down the path here with me while I smoke?"

I began to make some excuse, for I wanted to do nothing just then but
watch the stairway to see if Mr. Langenau did not come down even then
and go into the dining-room.

But I reflected how ungracious it would seem to refuse this, when he had
just come home, and I followed him out into the path.

There was no moon, but the stars were very bright, and the air was sweet
with the flower-beds in the grass along the path we walked.

The house looked gay and pleasant as we walked up and down before it,
with its many lighted windows, and people with bright dresses moving
about on the piazza. Richard lit his cigar, and said, after a silence
of a few moments, with a sigh, "It is good to be at home again."

"But you've had a pleasant journey?"

"No; the most tiresome that I ever made, and this last detention wore my
patience out. It seemed the longest fortnight. I could not bear to think
of you all here, and I away in such a dismal hole."

"I suppose Uncle Leonard had no pity on you, as long as there was a
penny to be made by staying there."

"No; I spent a great deal of money in telegraphing to him for orders to
come home, but he would not give up."

"And how is Uncle Leonard; did you go to Varick-street?"

"No, indeed; I did not waste any time in town. I only reached there
yesterday."

"I wonder Uncle Leonard let you off so soon."

"He growled a good deal, but I did not stay to listen."

"That's always the best way."

"And now, Pauline, tell me how you like the place."

"Like it! Oh, Richard, I think it is a Paradise," and I clasped my hands
in a young sort of ecstacy.