"I want a little advice—I have been trying all day to write a letter to the Times, giving my views on the present system of education at the Universities, showing how much time is wasted on the dead languages, which might be given to philosophy and science."
"Oh, really, papa," said Selina, with a half yawn to the subject, "I am so ignorant—I am sure I cannot help you."
"Oh, yes," he replied, gently; "you think less of yourself than you need—I shall be glad of your opinion. Come—"
"Oh, no, papa, I would much rather not."
"My little Lucy will come then."
"I would," she replied, "very gladly, only I am so anxious to see mamma."
"Come, Maria, then, I really cannot get on without a little admiration—and I do not expect them for an hour or two."
"I would if I understood anything about it," said Maria, "I dare say the letter will do beautifully."
"I will come, sir, if I may," cried Hargrave, starting up, on seeing Mr. Villars leaving the room with a dejected air.
But the hall bell stopped both of them. Lucy sprang to the door, but suddenly stopped, and turned pale, and shrunk instinctively, remembering the impossibility of her being a welcome object to Mabel.