When her hour had expired she came back with a face full of excitement and curiosity.  She glanced eagerly, inquiringly at Lulu, then turning to Miss Diana said, “Signor Foresti says Miss Raymond did not finish her lesson, and he wishes her to come back and do it now.”

“Singular!” remarked Miss Diana, elevating her eyebrows.  “Do you hear, Miss Raymond?  You can go.”

“I do not wish to go, Miss Diana,” replied Lulu, steadying her voice with some difficulty.

“Indeed! that has nothing to do with it, and you will please go at once.”

Lulu sat still in her seat with a look of stubborn determination on her face.

“Do you hear, Miss Raymond?” asked the teacher, raising her voice to a higher key.

“Yes, ma’am; but I shall never take another lesson from that man.”

“And why not, pray?”

“Because he is not a gentleman.”

Miss Diana looked utterly astonished.  “Well, really!” she exclaimed at length.  “I shall not discuss that point with you at present, but it has nothing to with the matter in hand.  Will you be pleased to go and finish your music-lesson?”

“No, ma’am; I have said I shall never be taught by him again; and I am not one to break my word,” concluded Lulu, loftily.

“Very well, miss; we will see what my father has to say to that.”

She stepped to the door and summoned him.

He came, marching in with his most pompous air, and glancing frowningly around, inquired what was wanted.

A great hush had fallen on the room; there was not a whisper, not a movement; eyes and ears were intent upon seeing and hearing all that should pass.

Miss Diana, glancing from her father to Lulu, drew herself up haughtily and replied, “Miss Raymond refuses obedience to orders.”

“Indeed!” he said, his frown growing darker and expending itself entirely upon the culprit.  “How is that?  What were the orders, and what reason does she assign for refusing obedience?”

“The signor sent word that she had not finished her music-lesson, and that he desired her to return and do so.  I directed her to obey the summons, and she flatly refused; giving as her only reason that he was not a gentleman.”

“Not a gentleman!” repeated the professor in accents of astonishment and indignation—­“not a gentleman!  In making such an assertion, young miss, you insult not the signor merely, but myself also; since it was I who engaged him to give instruction in music to the pupils of this establishment.  Pray, miss, on what do you found your most absurd opinion?”

“Upon his conduct, sir,” replied Lulu, returning the man’s stare unblenchingly, while her cheeks reddened and her eyes flashed with anger; “he has treated me to-day as no gentleman would ever treat a lady or a little girl.”

“How?”

“Scolding and storming when I was doing my very best, and going on to actually strike me—­me whom he was forbidden from the very first ever to strike.  Both Grandpa Dinsmore and Grandma Elsie—­I mean Mrs. Travilla—­forbade it when they put me in his class; for I had told them I wouldn’t be taught by him if he was allowed to treat me so; and they said he should not.”