the tutor had his hands full already with little Maksi,
Koloman was obliged to go to the national school in order to become a
wiser man than his forbears.

Poor Henrietta often slaved away for hours at a time with her younger
brother sitting at the table by her side, helping him to struggle
through the genders, declensions, conjugations, or whatever else the
infernal things were called; and the end of it all was that, at last,
she learnt to know Latin better than Koloman, and secretly translated
all his exercises from Cornelius Nepos and the Bucolics of Virgil for
him.

But we must not linger any longer over these Latin lessons, for a much
more important event claims our attention--Mr. John is coming home, and
we must hasten forward to admire him.

Mr. John Lapussa was a perfect prototype of the whole family. His
extraordinarily lanky pinched figure seemed even lankier than it was by
nature because he always carried his head so high: he peered down from
that elevation upon humanity at large as if there was something the
matter with his eyes which prevented him from properly raising the lids.
In him the dimensions of the family nose were made still more remarkable
by an inordinately tiny chin and thin compressed lips. His moustache was
shaved down to the very corners of his mouth, only a little mouse-tail
sort of arrangement being left on each side, which was twisted upwards
and dyed black with infinite skill. His costume was elegant and
ultra-refined, and only differed from the fashion in being extra stiff
and tight-fitting. Moreover, all the buttons of his shirt and his
waistcoat were precious stones, and he had a plenitude of rings on his
fingers which he delighted to show off by ostentatiously adjusting his
cravat in the course of conversation, or softly stroking the surface of
his superfine coat.

Mr. John entered the room without looking at a soul, and paced up and
down it with his hands behind his back. Then he suddenly caught sight of
his father, kissed his hand and resumed his dignified saunter. It was
evident that he was bursting for some one to speak and ask him what was
the matter.

Clementina was the first to speak.

"Your honour!" said she.

"What is it?" he asked, lifting his head still higher.

"I have finished the embroidery for your shirt front which your honour
was pleased to command."

His honour with a haughty curl of the lip condescended to glance down
upon the proffered embroidery. I am