"No invitation!" repeated he, in astonishment; "how is that?"
"Excuse me; I must keep my suspicions to myself."
He sat thoughtfully a few moments, then, starting up as if a new thought occurred to him, said—
"I understood they were not intending to invite 'hired girls;' but why should they slight you? You are as much a pupil at the academy as any one there."
"Yes, but I work for my board, and next summer I shall probably be 'hired girl' again."
"Well," said he, pleasantly, "we can have a party here."
I protested against his staying on my account.
"Yes, yes, they made me promise to come, but I insisted on qualifying it with 'providential,' and I consider this I have learned quite in that light. Nay, speak not, I command you. I shall not go. I only wish Mary was at home. However, we can have a pleasant evening here, and no thanks to the 'codfish aristocracy.'"
The next day, inquiry was made after Mr. ——, and why he did not attend the party; but he gave them no more satisfaction than they were entitled to. Afterward I was invited whenever there was a party; I did not care about going always, though I was glad to have my right to an invitation unquestioned, as, according to my definition of respectable, a man or woman either was so who could conscientiously respect himself.
The next summer, and for years, until my marriage, I had the satisfaction of knowing that my schools were not failures. Though I had anticipated so long, the enjoyment was equal to the anticipation.