"She will—she must!" exclaimed Everard, eagerly. "You will—will you not, Isa— Miss Leicester?" he asked persuasively.
Isabel was silent.
"A nice example of obliging manners you are setting your pupils," said Emily, mischievously, at the same time hugging her affectionately. "What makes my pet so naughty to-day?"
"I suppose I must," said Isabel, in a tone of annoyance; "I see that I shall have no peace if I don't."
"Thanks, Miss Leicester," said Everard, warmly; "I can't tell you how much—how very much—obliged I am."
"I should not imagine that such a very ungracious compliance called for such excessive thanks," said Grace, sarcastically.
"Don't be ill-natured, Gracie," returned her brother, laughing; "you don't know how glad I am."
"But it is so very absurd, Everard, the way you rave about Isabel's singing, any one would suppose that you had never heard good singing."
"Nor have I, before, ever heard such singing as Miss Leicester's," he returned.
"Oh, indeed, how very complimentary we are to-day!" retorted Grace.