Nipson, who had been twisting uneasily in her chair, said, "Excuse me, Mrs. Florence, but perhaps it would better would satisfy Miss Carr better if you were to be explicit." "It does not seem to me that Miss Carr can be in need of any explanation," replied Mrs. Florence.

But Katy was not to be shaken. "To please me, promise that not a word shall be said about it," she urged; and, to please her, the girls consented. I think Katy was right in saying that Mrs. Nipson no longer believed her guilty in the affair of the note.

Nipson in the door-way, Bella blubbering behind, and overhead the windows crowded with saucy girls, laughing and triumphantly flapping the long cotton strips which had for so many months obscured the daylight for them all. At Springfield next morning she and Clover said good-by to Mr. The ride to Albany was easy and safe. With every mile their spirits rose.

Why should I? It would only get poor little Bella into a dreadful scrape, and she's coming back again, you know. Mrs. Nipson does not believe that story now, nobody does. We had 'lived it down, just as I hope we should. That is much better than having it contradicted." "I don't think so; and I should enjoy seeing that little wretch of a Bella well whipped," persisted Rose.

"Voice and Echo" Rose called them: only, as she remarked, nobody could tell which was Echo and which Voice. The next word was "Mrs. Nipson," and the question, "Do you like flowers?" Do I like flowers?

Florence's departure to put into practice. One of these was that the school was to dine three times a week on pudding and bread and butter. Mrs. Nipson had a theory, very convenient and economical for herself, but highly distasteful to her scholars, that it was injurious for young people to eat meat every day in hot weather.

And the nuns in sweet forgetfulness who lie, Dreaming of buckwheat cakes, parental love, and pie; Moan softly, twist and turn, and see Black cats and fiends, who frolic in their glee; And nightmares prancing wildly do abound While Mrs. Nipson makes her nightly round. "Who did write that?" exclaimed Rose. Nobody answered.

She says he looks clever, but isn't at all handsome, which is a pity, for Mrs. Florence is a raving beauty in my opinion. He's an excellent preacher, we hear; and won't she manage the parish to perfection? How shall you like being left to the tender mercies of Mrs. Nipson? Now did you ever hear any thing so droll in your life?" went on Rose, folding up her letter.

"I will not stay, neither shall Clover, where our word is disbelieved, and we are treated like this. Papa knows! Papa will never doubt us a moment when we tell him that this isn't true." With these passionate words she left the room. I do not think that either Mrs. Florence or Mrs. Nipson felt very comfortable after she was gone. That was a dreadful afternoon.

She isn't as bad as we made her out. School-girls are almost always unjust to their teachers." "Oh, come, now," said Clover, making a little face. "This is a happy occasion, certainly, and I am in a benignant frame of mind, but really I can't stand having you so horridly charitable. 'There is no virtue, madam, in a mush of concession. Mrs. Nipson was an unpleasant old thing, so there!