The closing scene in the entertainment was the public announcement of the evening’s receipts; and we all looked with surprised faces at each other when Mr. Bowen informed us that there was within a few cents of one hundred dollars.  “Some of our guests this evening have treated us very generously; notably one gentleman in particular, who dropped a twenty-dollar bill on the table beside me,” Mr. Bowen said, in conclusion.  I gave Mr. Bovyer a meaning glance and also a very grateful one; but it was apparently thrown away; for not a muscle of his face moved in response to my smile.  Mrs. Blake went around for a while like one in a dream.  “Deary me! it’ll be jest like a fortin’ to ’em,” she ejaculated at last; “but Miss Selwyn ’ll have to take charge of it, or that mis’able Bill Sykes ’ll drink it up in no time.”

And then it was decided to act on Mrs. Blake’s suggestion, and the money was given to me to expend on Mrs. Sykes and her children as they required,—­a task soon accomplished when their need was so urgent.  We went home that night very elated at the success of our venture.  Cook was slightly inclined to assume a large share of the credit, and as her labor in the matter of cake and pastry making was so much greater than anything I had done, I gracefully yielded her all the credit she could desire.  No doubt, in all undertakings, from the capture of a kingdom to a tea meeting, there are many among to whom the honors by right belong.

CHAPTER XIX.

Three important letters.

One evening when I returned from a long walk, Esmerelda gave me a letter directed in the most fashionable style of ladies’ handwriting.  I was a good deal surprised at receiving a letter through such a source, especially as Esmerelda whispered me to secrecy.  I had no time to break the seal, for callers were waiting; and when they left, Mr. Winthrop summoned me to the study for a review of the week’s reading.  This was a custom he had some time before instituted, and I was finding it increasingly interesting.  He selected my course of reading, and a very strong bill of fare I was finding it, some of the passages straining my utmost power of brain to comprehend.  He had, as yet, confined me chiefly to German literature, mainly Kant and Lessing, with a dip into Schiller now and then, he said, by way of relaxation.  He seemed gratified at the interest I took in his efforts to develop my intellectual powers, and sometimes he sat chatting with me, after the lesson was ended, by the firelight, until we were summoned to dinner.  His mind appeared like some rich storehouse where every article has its appointed place; and while it held many a treasure from foreign sources, its own equipment was equal to the best.  I could not always follow him.  He gave me credit, I believe, for much greater brain power than I possessed; but what I could not comprehend made me the more eager