lost in admiration of her pluck. Mrs. Geer termed it a wild-goose chase;
Mr. Geer declared Ivy to be as smart as a steel trap. Mrs. Geer vetoed
the whole plan; Mr. Geer didn't know. But when at sunset Mr. Clerron
rode over, and admired Mr. Geer's orchard, and praised the points of his
Durhams, and begged a root of Mrs. Geer's scarlet verbena, and assured
them he should be very glad to refresh his own early studies, and also
to form an acquaintance with the family,--he knew very few in the
village,--and if Mrs. Geer would drive over when Ivy came to recite,--or
perhaps they would rather he should come to their house. Oh, no! Mrs.
Geer could not think of that. Just as they pleased. Mrs. Simm, the
housekeeper, would be very glad of Mrs. Geer's company while Miss Ivy
was reciting, in case Mrs. Geer should not wish to listen; and the house
and grounds would be shown by Mrs. Simm with great pleasure. By the way,
Mrs. Simm was a thrifty and sensible woman, and he was sure they would
be mutually pleased.--When, in short, all this and much more had been
said, it was decided that Ivy should be regularly installed pupil of Mr.
Felix Clerron.

"_Eureka!_" cries the professional novel-reader, that far-sighted and
keen-scented hound that snuffs a _denouement_ afar off; and anon there
rises before his eyes the vision of poor little Stella drinking in love
and learning, especially love, from the divine eyes of the anything but
divine Swift,--of Shirley, the lioness, the pantheress, the leopardess,
the beautiful, fierce creature, sitting, tamed, quiet, meek, by the side
of Louis Moore, her tutor and master,--and of all the legends of all the
ages wherein Beauty has sat at the feet of Wisdom, and Love has crept
in unawares, and spoiled the lesson while as yet half-unlearnt;--so
he cries, "She is going the way of all heroines. The man and the
girl,--they will fall in love, marry, and live happily all the rest of
their days."