who saw her
then. "She's as sweet as a sugar-plum," he added, as he continued to
look. "What does she mean by getting off such rampant discourses? She
never wrote them herself,--don't tell _me_; at least somebody else put
her up to it,--that strong-minded-looking teacher over yonder, for
instance. _She_ looks capable of anything, and something worse, in the
denouncing way; poor little beauty was her cat's-paw this morning."

"O Tom, how you talk! She is nobody's cat's-paw. I can tell you she does
her own thinking and acting too. If you'd just go and do something
hateful, or impose on somebody,--one of the waiters, for
instance,--you'd see her blaze up, fast enough."

"Ah! philanthropic?"

Clara looked puzzled. "I don't know; we have some girls here who are all
the time talking about benevolence, and charity, and the like, and they
have a little sewing-circle to make up things to be sold for the church
mission, or something,--I don't know just what; but Francesca won't go
near it."

"Democratic, then, maybe."

"No, she isn't, not a bit. She's a thorough little aristocrat: so
exclusive she has nothing to say to the most of us. I wonder she ever
took me for a friend, though I do love her dearly."

Tom looked down at his bright little sister, and thought the wonder was
not a very great one, but didn't say so; reserving his gallantries for
somebody else's sister.

"You seem greatly taken with her, Tom."

"I own the soft impeachment."

"Well, you'll have a fair chance, for she's coming home with me. I wrote
to mamma, and she says, bring her by all means,--and Mr. Ercildoune
gives his consent; so it is all settled."

"Mr. Ercildoune! is there no Mrs. E.?"

"None,--her mother died long ago; and her father has not been here, so I
can't tell you anything about him. There: do you see that
elegant-looking lady talking with Professor Hale? that is her aunt, Mrs.
Lancaster. She is English, and is here only on a visit. She wants to
take Francesca home with her in the spring, but I hope she won't."

"Why, what is it to you?"

"I am afraid she will stay, and then I shall never see her any more."

"And why stay? do you fancy England so very fascinating?"

"No, it is not that; but Francesca don't like America; she's forever
saying something witty and sharp about our 'democratic institutions,' as
she calls them; and, if you had looked this morning, you'd have seen
that she didn't sing The Star-Spangled Banner with the re