After dinner was over the students indulged in conversation. I discovered afterwards that music usually formed a prominent feature in after dinner amusements, but to-day the Honourable Augustus and myself afforded sufficient food for pastime. We were, however, not exactly mobbed, though our audience was a large one in every sense of the word. One thing puzzled me exceedingly. When I spoke awhile ago of being “English,” my interrogators seemed thoroughly mystified, and yet they were speaking my native tongue in all its insular purity. Evidently there was a good deal to explain on all sides. Augustus Fitz-Musicus had by this time got over his chagrin, and was, I could tell, even congratulating himself in a mild sort of way over the fact that he was proving a much greater source of attraction than I was. He was receiving the attentions of this bevy of big beauties with such a ridiculous air of conceited nonchalance, that I was provoked to laughter, in spite of my polite attempt to restrain my mirth. Myra comprehended the cause of my amusement, and whispered, “I see, little lady, that the male biped is the same all the world over,—a conglomeration of conceit and arrogance. Your little man looks too funny for anything, and yet I will warrant that he thinks himself capable of captivating one half of us. What is he thought of in your country?” But to this question I was unable to give a satisfactory answer, as I could only say that I was perfectly ignorant of everything connected with the Honourable Augustus, never having seen him in my life until to-day. This reply amazed Myra and others who heard it, but further interrogations on her part were stopped for a little while by the advent of the Lady Principal and two of the professors, who wished to speak with me and to know how I came to be here. The young students respectfully made way for them, and I confess that my sensations on beholding them approached something very near akin to awe. The Lady Principal, especially, was a being to be remembered. In height she was somewhat superior to the others. Her features were so perfect in outline and expression that I think Minerva must have looked like this woman did. There was not one among all these women who did not look the embodiment of health. Principal Helen Grey did more than this; she seemed to me to be the goddess of health herself, and to be capable of endowing others with this most to be prized earthly blessing. She sat down beside me, and gently asked me who I was, and how I happened to be here. My answer to the effect that I did not know how I had got here was evidently a tax on her credulity, but she was too well bred to do aught but listen quietly while I continued my explanations.