dated back to the old-fashioned days prior to the Revolution,
while the larger part of the mansion had not stood more than
twenty or thirty years; but the effect was relieved by windows
reaching from floor to ceiling, and opening on a veranda which
overlooked a lovely flower-garden, beyond which were fields and
woods and hills.  The view from the veranda was very beautiful, and
the room itself looked most inviting, with its neat matting, its
windows draped with snow-white muslin, its comfortable chairs, and
pretty rosewood desks. 

Within this pleasant apartment sat Miss Day with her pupils, six
in number.  She was giving a lesson to Enna, the youngest, the
spoiled darling of the family, the pet and plaything of both
father and mother.  It was always a trying task to both teacher and
scholar, for Enna was very wilful, and her teacher's patience by
no means inexhaustible. 

"There!" exclaimed Miss Day, shutting the book and giving it an
impatient toss on to the desk; "go, for I might as well try to
teach old Bruno.  I presume he would learn about as fast."