was nearly over.

'Fraeulein knows that Mr. Wendover speaks of our future as the future of
man and wife.'

'Ja wohl,' murmured the Fraeulein, 'that is true; ganz und gan.'

'I will not hear another word!' cried Miss Pew, swelling with rage, while
every thorn and berry on her autumnal cap quivered. 'Ungrateful, impudent
young woman! Leave my house instantly. I will not have these innocent
girls perverted by your vile example. In speech and in conduct you are
alike detestable.'

'Good-bye, girls,' cried Ida, lightly: 'you all know how much harm my
speech and my example have done you. Good-bye, Fraeulein; don't you be
afraid of dismissal,--you are too well worth your salt.'

Polly Cobb, the brewer's daughter, sat near the door by which Ida had to
make her exit. She was quite the richest, and perhaps the best-natured
girl in the school. She caught hold of Ida's gown and thrust a little
Russia-leather purse into her hand, with a tender squeeze.

'Take it, dear,' she whispered; 'I don't want it, I can get plenty more.
Yes, yes, you must; you shall. I'll make a row, and get myself into
disgrace, if you refuse. You can't go to France without money.'

'God bless you, dear. I'll send it you back,' answered Ida.

'Don't; I shall hate you if you do.'