Just then, Mademoiselle put her head into the drawing-room door. "Oh! Mademoiselle Madeline, que fait vous? vous êtes trés impolie, voila vos jeunes amis, et vous êtes ici avec ce pauvre garçon." "Do not faint, Mademoiselle, I know what I am about." "Que dira Mr. H.? Lui qui est si Monsieur. J'ai peur que tu ne seras jamais une dame; vous êtes impolie, M'lle. Venez avec moi!" Madeline burst out laughing, and whispered to Roland, "She is a poor simple thing; I can't help laughing at her." "Don't, Maddy; she is your teacher, and therefore ought to be respected." "That will do for good people like you; Roland, I can't be so good." By this time they had left the piazza, and Madeline conducted Roland out to the gate, passing Aunt Matilda and the young ladies in the avenue. He raised his cap and bowed gracefully as he took his leave. "Good evening, Miss Hamilton, I am sorry to have intruded so long." "Good evening, sir," replied the lady haughtily. "Where in the world did he learn to make such a bow as that?" said Mary James. "He was born a gentleman," answered Madeline, "and if he were clad in rags, he would carry the same manners everywhere." "Don't talk such folly, Madeline," said her aunt; "Roland is well enough, but he is not a gentleman, nor the son of a gentleman, and no associate for Madeline Hamilton. You make a dunce of yourself, in the way that you behave to these people." "Perhaps so, aunty; but I shall never forget that I am a lady to every one." "You forgot it, Maddy, this afternoon, when you left your young friends, to entertain that boy." Madeline blushed as she replied, "They were so rude, aunty, that I could do nothing else." "Madeline has a remarkable taste," said Ella Taylor; "Roland and Effie Bruce are her chief companions at school." "I choose them for their worth, and because all the rest treat them badly," answered Madeline. "Well, we will not talk any more about it now," said Aunt Matilda; "Maddy always has her own way, and there is no use of crossing her while Lewis Hamilton is master." * * * * * * * "Papa, do you care much about my donkey?" said Maddy that evening to her father. "Why, Mad-cap, what makes you ask that question?" "Because I am tired of riding about with Bob. It has been several months since I drove him, papa, and I thought that we could put him to such good use now." "Why, what do you want to do with poor Bob, Maddy?" "It would be such a nice little animal for Mrs. Bruce, papa. Here, we only keep him for amusement, there, he would be so useful. They have to borrow a crazy old cart, and a broken down horse every week to go to market, and if they only had a little cart, Bob could take their vegetables to market. Shan't I give him to Mrs. Bruce, papa?" "Well, Mad-cap, I believe that you would give your head away if it were loose; you may do what you please with poor Bob; but what about the cart?"