to lend him—his books are not as nice as mine, and he wanted to have them extremely, when I told him how interesting they were—May I not, Ellen?"
"No, indeed, no indeed!" replied I with decision. "Then he would write to you, and there'd never be on end of it—No, Miss Catherine, the acquaintance must be dropped entirely—so papa expects, and I shall see that it is done."
"But how can one little note—" she recommenced, putting on an imploring countenance.
"Silence!" I interrupted. "We'll not begin with your little notes—Get into bed!"
She threw at me a very naughty look, so naughty that I would not kiss her good-night at first: I covered her up, and shut her door, in great displeasure—but, repenting half-way, I returned softly, and lo! there was Miss, standing at the table with a bit of blank paper before her, and a pencil in her hand, which
