He led the way to a rustic seat, tore out the leaf, spread it on the cover of the book and handed that and the pencil to her.

“I needn’t say much—­need I, Max?” she asked, looking at him through tear-dimmed eyes.

“No; just the few words you would say if he were here beside you.”

“I can’t write nicely, my hand trembles so, and I can hardly see,” she sobbed, taking out her handkerchief and wiping away the fast-falling tears.”

“Never mind; I know he won’t care how it looks; he’ll know why you couldn’t do better.”

Thus encouraged, Lulu wrote with trembling fingers: 

“Grandpa Dinsmore, I’m sorry for having been so naughty, obstinate, and disobedient.  Please forgive me, and I will do whatever you bid me; even if you still say I must take lessons again of Signor Foresti.”

She signed her name in full, and handing it to Max, asked,

“Will that do?”

“Yes; I’m sure it will; and I’m ever so glad you’ve done it at last, Lu.”

“But, oh!  Max, how can I go back to that horrid man after I’ve said so many times that I never would?”

She seemed inclined to snatch the note out of his hand, but he stepped back quickly out of reach, hastily deposited it in the note-book, and that in his pocket.

“Don’t repent of doing right, Lu,” he said.  “Think that you may be averting sorrow and bereavement.  I think I’d better go now, before you change your mind.”

“Oh no, don’t, Max,” she entreated; “I’m so lonesome without you; let us keep together and comfort each other.”

Max yielded, and they sat down again side by side.

Just then one of the school-girls came flying down the walk toward them, crying out half-breathlessly as she drew near, “Lu Raymond, don’t you want to hear the news?”

“What is it?” Lulu asked indifferently.  “Something you’ll be glad to hear.  You know the spring term closes next week; well, it seems that the time of Signor Foresti’s engagement here expires with it, and, as he has been offered a higher salary elsewhere, he refuses to renew the contract with Professor Manton.  I overheard their talk; something was said about you, and the signor remarked in a passionate tone that you had already missed your last chance to take another lesson of him, or even to finish that interrupted one.  Now, aren’t you glad?”

“Yes,” Lulu said, a momentary flash of joy illuminating her countenance, but only to be instantly replaced by the very sad and anxious expression it had worn before.

“Oh, Max, will Grandpa Dinsmore think I—?”

“No,” interrupted Max, “I’ll tell him all about it; and he knows you’re honest as the day.  Why,” turning his head at the sound of approaching wheels, “there’s Grandpa Dinsmore now!  I’ll run and tell him, Lu;” and, without waiting for a reply, he sprang up and went.

“What’s he going to tell?” asked the girl who had brought the news about Signor Foresti.