a child, ignorant, artless, and sincere. His better feelings were
roused, and he exclaimed, with real earnestness,--

"My dear young lady, I should rejoice to serve you in any way, I beg you
to believe."

His words only hastened the catastrophe which seems to be always
impending over the weaker sex. Ivy sobbed outright,--a perfect tempest.
Felix Clerron looked on with a bachelor's dismay. "What in thunder?
Confound the girl!" were his first reflections; but her utter
abandonment to sorrow melted his heart again,--not a very susceptible
heart either; but men, especially bachelors, are so--_green!_ (the word
is found in Cowper.)

He sat down by her side, stroked the hair from her burning forehead, as
if she had been six instead of sixteen, and again and again assured her
of his willingness to assist her.

"I must go home," whispered Ivy, as soon as she could command, or rather
coax her voice.

His hospitality was shocked.

"Indeed you must not, till we have at least had a consultation. Tell me
how much you know. What have you studied?"

"Oh, nothing, Sir. I am very stupid."

"Ah! we must begin with the Alphabet, then. Blocks or a primer?"