he was dangerous, that she would be happy to go with me when I cared to
go, and happy to stay at home if I stayed. So I imagine I am booked for
a gay season."

"Which I am sure you will greatly enjoy. But this Madame de Veaudrey
must be a sensible woman."

"Because I disagree with her? I am greatly obliged. But she is a saint,
although you admire her," pursued the good-tempered woman. "She was a
Hamilton, you know, and married Veaudrey, who was secretary of legation
in Washington. He was afterward minister in Sweden, and died there. She
was returning to this country with her three girls, and was shipwrecked
and they all three perished. She was picked up unconscious and
recovered only after a long illness. Since then she has gone very
little into the world, but has devoted herself to the education of
young ladies. She never has more than three or four at a time, and
these she selects herself. Alice had heard of her from Mrs. Bowman, and
we ventured to write to ask admission to her household, and our request
was civilly but peremptorily declined. This was while we were in New
York two years ago. But a few days afterward we were at church with
Mrs. Bowman, and Madame de Veaudrey saw us. She called the next day
upon Mrs. Bowman and inquired who we were, and then came to me and
begged to withdraw her letter, and to take Alice at once under her
charge. It seems that Alice resembled one of her daughters--at all
events, she was completely fascinated by her, and Alice soon came to
regard her in return as the loveliest of created beings. I must admit I
found her a little still--though she _was_ lovely. But still, I cannot
help being afraid that she has made Alice a little to particular; you
know the young gentlemen don't like a girl to be too stiff."