There was a general outcry that it was bad enough when he was well, and now he must not take liberties; Flora made him drink some tea; and Richard placed morsels in his way, while he read his letters.
He ran up for a final look at Margaret, almost upset the staid Miss Winter as he ran down again, called Richard to take the reins, and was off.
It was French day, always a trial to Ethel.

M.Ballompre, the master, knew what was good and bad French, but could not render a reason, and Ethel, being versed in the principles of grammar, from her Latin studies, chose to know the why and wherefore of his corrections--she did not like to see her pages defaced, and have no security against future errors; while he thought her a troublesome pupil, and was put out by her questions.

They wrangled, Miss Winter was displeased, and Ethel felt injured.
Mary's inability to catch the pronunciation, and her hopeless dull look when she found that coeur must not be pronounced cour, nor cur, but something between, to which her rosy English lips could never come--all this did not tease M.Ballompre, for he was used to it.
His mark for Ethel's lesson was "de l'humeur." "I am sorry," said Miss Winter, when he was gone.

"I thought you had outgrown that habit of disputing over every phrase." "I can't tell how a language is to be learned without knowing the reasons of one's mistakes," said Ethel.
"That is what you always say, my dear.

It is of no use to renew it all, but I wish you would control yourself.