"You had some incontestable reason for omitting to write, Miss Ross," with a sardonic grin; "into its nature I shall not inquire, but plead guilty to curiosity to know the name of the friend who did your work, and appended your name to his or her elegant effort." Ida was not of a disposition to brook insolence, and she answered with spirit,--"The exercise is mine, sir." "By right of possession, I suppose?" "It was written by myself." "Do I believe you, when my eyes tell me this is neither your hand-writing or style? Who was your accomplice in this witty deception?" "SIR!" "Who wrote this theme?" he thundered, maddened by her contempt. "I have told you--_I_ did. No one else has seen it." _"You lie!"_ With one lightning glance, she arose; but he placed himself between her and the door. "Let me pass!" she ordered. "Signor Alboni!" said Miss Carleton, who had before endeavored to make herself heard, "I can certify to the truth of Miss Ross' statement. I saw her commence and complete her manuscript." "Aha! yet she says it has been seen only by herself. You must tutor your witnesses more carefully. They convict, instead of exculpate." "If you hint at collusion between Miss Ross and myself, I can say that we never exchanged a word until an hour since. My desk adjoins hers; it was this circumstance which furnished me with the knowledge of her morning's occupation." "I beg you will not subject yourself to further insult, upon my account," interrupted Ida, whose figure had dilated and heightened during the colloquy;--then to him--"Once more I command you to stand aside! If you do not obey, I shall call Mr. Purcell." As if he had heard the threatened appeal, the principal appeared in the doorway, in blank astonishment at the novel aspect of affairs. Alboni commenced a hurried jargon, inarticulate through haste and rage; Ida stood with folded arms, her countenance settled in such proud scorn as Lucifer would have envied and striven to imitate. The prudent preceptor perceived at a glance the danger of present investigation; and abruptly declaring the lesson concluded, appointed an hour on the morrow for a hearing of the case. That evening, for the first time in many months, Ida voluntarily sought her guardian's presence. Josephine was in her room, and he was left to the enjoyment of solitude and the newspaper. He arose at the approach of his visitant, and offered her a chair. In these little matters of etiquette, he was particular to punctiliousness; carrying his business habits of law and order into every thing. The paper was replaced upon the stand; the spectacles wiped and returned to their case; and those matter-of-fact eyes raised with an interrogative look. "You have been informed of the altercation that occurred in the Italian class to-day?" Ida said, waiving the preliminary remarks. "Josephine mentioned it." "May I ask what was her version of it?" "It was a statement of _facts_."