walk was over.

CHAPTER III.

THE MULTIPLICATION TABLE.

My life at Magnolia might be said to begin when I came down
stairs that evening. My aunt and Miss Pinshon were sitting in
the parlour, in the light of a glorious fire of light wood and
oak sticks. Miss Pinshon called me to her at once; inquired
where I had been; informed me I must not for the future take
such diversion without her leave first asked and obtained; and
then put me to reading aloud, that she might see how well I
could do it. She gave me a philosophical article in a magazine
for my proof piece; it was full of long words that I did not
know and about matters that I did not understand. I read
mechanically, of course; trying with all my might to speak the
long words right, that there might be no room for correction;
but Miss Pinshon's voice interrupted me again and again. I
felt cast away — in a foreign land; further and further from
the home feeling every minute; and it seemed besides as if the
climate had some power of petrifaction. I could not keep
Medusa out of my head. It was a relief at last when the tea
was brought in. Miss Pinshon took the magazine out of my hand.

"She has a good voice, but she wants expression," was her
remark.

"I could not understand what she was reading," said my aunt
Gary.