had been reading "Ivanhoe" all the afternoon,
until the twilight had overtaken her quite
unaware, and now she suddenly remembered that
she had forgotten to write her German exercise.
She lifted her face and saw a pair of sad, vacant
eyes, gazing at her from the next window in
the angle of the court. She was a little startled
at first, but in the next moment she thought of
her German exercise and took heart.

"Do you know German?" she said; then
immediately repented that she had said it.

"I do," was the answer.

She took up her apron and began to twist it
with an air of embarrassment.

"I didn't mean anything," she whispered, at last.
"I only wanted to know."

"You are very kind."

That answer roused her; he was evidently
making sport of her.

"Well, then, if you do, you may write my
exercise for me. I have marked the place in
the book."