e to see your majesty bear up so
nobly: it is well that pride can sustain you in adversity, since it
occasioned your descent. And yet, do you know, most sovereign lady, I
have always entertained the idea that the reason you refused, in
obedience to your royal husband's command, to unveil your beauty to the
court, was not so much modesty and pride, as the fact of an unfortunate
pimple upon your nose, and a sty upon your eye, which had the effect of
making you look uncommonly ugly."

"Shame, ungallant sir! never, unless my silver mirror deceived me, did I
look more lovely. But if the laws of the Medes and Persians cannot be
changed, neither can the modest customs of their women be altered, even
at the command of the King, of Ahasuerus himself. I stand here, a martyr
to the rights of my sex: I, Vashti, queen of Persia, and of all the ends
of the earth, have proved myself to be strong in will, and the champion
of womanhood. I shall appear before all eyes as the first asserter of
woman's rights. But oh! that Jewish girl! that modest, shrinking,
beauteous, hateful Esther! that _she_ should wear my crown!"

"Well done, Cornelia! you have entered into the spirit of the game. And
now Charlie should go out, as you caught the idea from him."

Upon Charlie's re-entrance, Alice spoke: "Did Dante's genius inspire
you, gifted mortal, or did you sit so long at the feet of Isaiah, that
your harp caught up some of the tones of his?"

"Don't know, ma'am, indeed. Couldn't possibly give you any information
on that subject. Scarcely knew I was much of a poet until you told me."

"A man like you," said Ellen, "did not write for the unthinking
multitude, but for the select number who could appreciate. 'Fit
audience, though few,' is what you ask for. How shameful is it that such
worth and genius should languish in obscurity, in a pleasure-seeking
age! And that, while court minions rolled in luxury, you should sell
your glorious poem for the paltry sum of ten pounds!"

"It was really too bad," replied Charlie. "And the money went very fast,
too."

"And yet," answered Amy, "you were never of prodigal habits. You lived
simply, in the country: your supper was of bread and milk; your greatest
pleasure, to play upon the organ, or to listen to the music of others.
You retired early to rest: to be sure, you often awoke in the night,
your brain so filled with visions of beauty that you felt obliged to
arouse your daughter, that she might write th