"You haven't given account of yourself, yet," said Mrs. Van Rensselaer, glancing from her end of the table to where Hope sat, still in silence. "Don't ask me," said the girl. "My excuse would sound too trivial to you, Clarice. Perhaps I wanted to watch the first stars of evening." "Or follow a frog to its nest in the weeds," supplemented Sydney, "or catch grass-hoppers that had gone to roost, or listen to the night-song of the cat bird in the brush or--or what, Hopie? Maybe you were writing poems in your mind, or preparing new lessons for school to-morrow." "Yes, that's just it," she replied. "I was preparing new lessons--for to-morrow!" "How funny!" laughed Mrs. Van Rensselaer. "I had forgotten you were a full-fledged school-teacher. Of course, I suppose you do have to think about your teaching some. Goodness, I wouldn't like it at all! It must be an awful task to bother with a lot of rough, dirty children! How many pupils have you?" "Seventeen enrolled--but only seven or eight who attend," replied Hope briefly. "Mercy, I thought you must have at least fifty, from all I saw back there!" gasped Mrs. Van Rensselaer. "Well, I shouldn't think it would be much trouble to prepare lessons for that amount." "_That many_," corrected Hope. "We don't measure them by the pound." "No, we size them up by the cord," laughed Sydney; "but we don't handle 'em, because they're like that much dynamite." "Dangerous pieces of humanity," said Livingston, smiling. "Hope can handle them all right," declared Mrs. Van Rensselaer. "She can handle anyone, for that matter. She's got more tact and diplomacy than any politician. Trust her to manage seven or eight children! Why, if she can't manage a person any other way, she'll actually _bully_ him. She can make you believe black is white every time." "Fräulein is so goot!" murmured Louisa, in rapture. "Thank you," replied Hope gratefully. "You see Louisa knows me _last_, Clarice, and her remark should show you that I have changed for the better." "I always told you there was chance for improvements, didn't I, Hopie?" laughed Sydney. "Yes, you have said something about there being _room_ for improvement, but I always supposed you judged me to be a hopeless case. I'm glad though you think there's a _chance_! I always did want to improve!" As she spoke she pushed back the box upon which she had been sitting, turning it over to make it lower, and seated herself near the corner of the tent, where she was shaded from the direct rays of the lantern's light.