“You are ver’ tired, Mees Lucinda?” said he.

“I am a little, Sir,” said she, out of breath.  “I am not used to dancing; it’s quite an exertion.”

“It is that truly.  If you are too much tired, is it better to wait?  I shall finish for you the lesson till I come to-night for a French conversation?”

“I guess I will go home,” said the simple little lady.  “I am some afraid of getting rheumatism; but use makes perfect, and I shall stay through next time, no doubt.”

“So I believe,” said Monsieur, with his best bow, as Miss Lucinda departed and went home, pondering all the way what special delicacy she should provide for tea.

“My dear young friends,” said Monsieur Leclerc, pausing with the uplifted bow in his hand, before he recommenced his lesson, “I have observe that my new pupil does make you much to laugh.  I am not so surprise, for you do not know all, and the good God does not robe all angels in one manner; but she have taken me to her mansion with a leg broken, and have nursed me like a saint of the blessed, nor with any pay of silver except that I teach her the dance and the French.  They are pay for the meat and the drink, but she will have no more for her good patience and care.  I like to teach you the dance, but she could teach you the saints’ ways, which are better.  I think you will no more to laugh.”

“No!  I guess we won’t!” said the bouncing girl with great emphasis, and the color rose over more than one young face.

After that day Miss Lucinda received many a kind smile and hearty welcome, and never did anybody venture even a grimace at her expense.  But it must be acknowledged that her dancing was at least peculiar.  With a sanitary view of the matter, she meant to make it exercise, and fearful was the skipping that ensued.  She chassed on tiptoe, and balanced with an indescribable hopping twirl, that made one think of a chickadee pursuing its quest of food on new-ploughed ground; and some late-awakened feminine instinct of dress, restrained, too, by due economy, indued her with the oddest decorations that woman ever devised.  The French lessons went on more smoothly.  If Monsieur Leclerc’s Parisian ear was tortured by the barbarous accent of Vermont, at least he bore it with heroism, since there was nobody else to hear; and very pleasant, both to our little lady and her master, were these long winter evenings, when they diligently waded through Racine, and even got as far as the golden periods of Chateaubriand.  The pets fared badly for petting in these days; they were fed and waited on, but not with the old devotion; it began to dawn on Miss Lucinda’s mind that something to talk to was preferable, as a companion, even to Fun, and that there might be a stranger sweetness in receiving care and protection than in giving it.