I could both see them and hear them talk before I entered, and looked and listened in consequence; being moved thereto by a mingled sense of curiosity and envy, that grew as I lingered.
'Con-_trary_!' said a voice as sweet as a silver bell.

'That for the third time, you dunce! I'm not going to tell you again.

Recollect, or I'll pull your hair!' 'Contrary, then,' answered another, in deep but softened tones.

'And now, kiss me, for minding so well.' 'No, read it over first correctly, without a single mistake.' The male speaker began to read: he was a young man, respectably dressed and seated at a table, having a book before him.

His handsome features glowed with pleasure, and his eyes kept impatiently wandering from the page to a small white hand over his shoulder, which recalled him by a smart slap on the cheek, whenever its owner detected such signs of inattention.