the lessons when Lilias and Nello came back from one of their earliest experiences of the instruction given by Mr. Pennithorne. The children came in breathless with the story they had to tell. “Then he made me read out of all the books,” said Lilias, her dark eyes shining; “but Nello, because he was so little, one book was enough for him.” “But it was not a girl’s book,” said Nello; “it was only for Johnnie and me.” “And I looked in it,” said his sister; “it is all mixed with Italian--such funny Italian: instead of _padre_ it was put _payter_--Mr. Pen called it so. But it would not do for Nello, when we go back, to say his Italian like that. Even Martuccia would laugh, and Martuccia is not educated.” “It was Latin,” said Nello; “Mr. Pen said so. He said girls didn’t want Latin. Girls learn to dance and sing; but I--and Johnnie----” “Will Mr. Pen teach me to dance--and sing, Mary?” said Lilias, with a grave face. “And me, I wrote a copy,” said Nello, indifferent to the interruption; “look!” and he held up fingers covered with ink. “You cannot read it yet, but you will soon be able to read it, Mr. Pen says. And then I will write you a letter, Mary.” “It would be better to write letters to some one far off,” said Lilias, half scornful of his want of information. “You can _talk_ to Mary, Nello. It is to far-off people that one makes letters.” “We have nobody that is far off,” said Nello, shaking his head with the sudden consciousness of a want not hitherto realized. “Then I need not write copies any more.” “Your father is far off, Nello,” said Mary; “your poor papa, who never hears any news of you. Some time I hope you will be able to write to him, and ask him to come home.” “Oh,” cried Lilias, “you need not be sorry about that, Mary. He will come home. Some day, in a moment when you are thinking of nothing, there will be a step on the stair, and Martuccia will give a shriek; and it will be as if the sun came shining out, and it will be papa! He is always like that--but you never know when he will come.”