"A note, eh?" interrupted the old gentleman, "let me see it—go bring it to me."
I thought I could not be mistaken in the indication of reluctance to obey this direction evinced by the slow step of my usually sprightly-motioned young favorite.
"Come, Fanny, come," said her father, when she re-entered, "you have no objection to showing me"——
"Oh, no, indeed, pa,—but you are so critical," the young lady began to protest.
"Critical! am I though!" exclaimed the parent, with some vivacity, "perhaps so—at least I judge somewhat, of a man's claims to the acquaintance of my daughter by these things." And, adjusting his spectacles, he opened the note his daughter offered. "Bless my soul!" he cried, at the first glance, "what bright-colored paper, and how many grand flourishes—really, my dear!" There was a brief silence and then the father said mildly, but firmly, "Fanny, I prefer that you should not accept this invitation."
"Will you tell me why, pa?"
"Because the writer is not a gentleman! No man of taste and refinement would write such a note as this to a lady, with whom he has only the ceremonious acquaintance that this young man has with you. He is evidently illiterate, too,—his note is not only inelegantly expressed, but it is mis-spelled"——
"Oh, pa"——
"I assure you it is so. Your own education is more defective than it should be with the advantages you have had, if you cannot perceive this—read it again, and tell me what word is mis-spelled," said her father, returning the production under discussion to Fanny.
The young lady sat down by the lamp to con the task assigned her, and my host said to me—"It is unpardonable, now-a-days, for a young man to be ignorant in such matters as these. When we were young, Hal, the means of acquiring knowledge generally, were limited by circumstances; but who that wishes, lacks them at present?—Well, my daughter"——