"I am willing to try," I said, seating myself on the opposite side of the table with folded hands, and possibly a martyrlike air of resignation.
"Since you are so willing we will take Froude's Cæsar to-day; let me hear you give a digest of the entire book."
My eyes sparkled; for this was the last volume I had read, and the author had infused into my mind a strong leaven of his own hero-worship for the majestic Cæsar. I was surprised at the ease with which I repeated chapter after chapter of those stirring incidents, while with his stern, inscrutable face, my guardian turned the leaves to follow me in my rapid flight from tragedy to tragedy in those stormy times.
He laid the book down without comment, and, glancing at the remainder of the pile paused a moment, and then said: "I will defer the criticisms on these to some other day. Your memory as well as vocal organs will be fatigued."
I meanwhile resolved to consult those books again before the further examination should take place.
"You have practised every day on the piano in addition to your other work; may I ask how long a time you allowed yourself?"
"At least an hour, sometimes when it was wet or unpleasant out of doors I took longer time. Never more than three hours, I believe."
"We will take an hour or two after dinner over your music, after this once a week, we will spend a short time in reviewing what you read."
A new anxiety seized me at this promised ordeal. I fancied examinations and I had said good-bye forever when I left the school-room.
"I trust you will not think me severe if I insist on thoroughness in everything. I am wearied seeing so much good money and time wasted on young girls! With the majority of them, once they have left their teacher's side, all their interest in further mental culture is at an end."