the reading there is now and then some talking, and persons talking in an arbor do not always remember that latticework, no matter how closely the vines cover it, is not impenetrable to the sound of the human voice.  There was a listener one day,—­it was not one of The Teacups, I am happy to say,—­who heard and reported some fragments of a conversation which reached his ear.  Nothing but the profound intimacy which exists between myself and the individual reader whose eyes are on this page would induce me to reveal what I was told of this conversation.  The first words seem to have been in reply to some question.

“Why, my dear friend, how can you think of such a thing?  Do you know—­I am—­old enough to be your—­[I think she must have been on the point of saying mother, but that was more than any woman could be expected to say]—­old enough to be your aunt?”

“To be sure you are,” answered the Tutor, “and what of it?  I have two aunts, both younger than I am.  Your years may be more than mine, but your life is fuller of youthful vitality than mine is.  I never feel so young as when I have been with you.  I don’t believe in settling affinities by the almanac.  You know what I have told you more than once; you have n’t ‘bared the ice-cold dagger’s edge’ upon me yet; may I not cherish the"....

What a pity that the listener did not hear the rest of the sentence and the reply to it, if there was one!  The readings went on the same as before, but I thought that Number Five was rather more silent and more pensive than she had been.

I was much pleased when the American Annex came to me one day and told me that she and the English Annex were meditating an expedition, in which they wanted the other Teacups to join.  About a dozen miles from us is an educational institution of the higher grade, where a large number of young ladies are trained in literature, art, and science, very much as their brothers are trained in the colleges.  Our two young ladies have already been through courses of this kind in different schools, and are now busy with those more advanced studies which are ventured upon by only a limited number of “graduates.”  They have heard a good deal about this institution, but have never visited it.

Every year, as the successive classes finish their course, there is a grand reunion of the former students, with an “exhibition,” as it is called, in which the graduates of the year have an opportunity of showing their proficiency in the various branches taught.  On that occasion prizes are awarded for excellence in different departments.  It would be hard to find a more interesting ceremony.  These girls, now recognized as young ladies, are going forth as missionaries of civilization among our busy people.  They are many of them to be teachers, and those who have seen what opportunities they have to learn will understand their fitness for that exalted office.  Many are to be the wives and mothers of the generation next coming upon the stage.  Young and beautiful, “youth is always beautiful,” said old Samuel Rogers,—­their countenances radiant with developed intelligence, their complexions, their figures, their movements, all showing that they have had plenty of outdoor as well as indoor exercise, and have lived well in all respects, one would like to read on the wall of the hall where they are assembled,—­