"Oh! a fancy piece," said Euphrasie; "well, it is very pretty, but I am no judge of fiction;" and she sat down.
"Fiction or not, I cannot let you off so," said Annie; "do you not think it would be very pleasant to dwell with a goodly number of intelligent people, each taking his own share of work, and aiding in making life happy—all good, all instructed and accomplished?"
"Pleasant? Yes, very pleasant I have lived with such," said Euphrasie; "but their happiness was of a very different kind to that which is delineated here."
"You have lived with such! Where, in the name of wonder?" asked Annie.
"In France," said Euphrasie.
"And what sort of happiness was theirs?" asked Eugene, now thoroughly roused.
"I cannot tell you—that is, I could not make you understand. Excuse me," said Euphrasie, evidently sorry she had said so much.
"And why not? why could we not understand?" asked brother and sister, both in a breath.
"Because your principles are so different."
"Nay, then, explain the principles, ma chère. You have excited our curiosity; you must gratify it now."