They were not chattery French nurses who presided over these solemnities; they were grave, housekeeping, Mrs.Simcoe-kind of people.

Julia and Mary were exhorted to behave themselves like little ladies, and the frolic ended by their all taking books from the library shelves and sitting properly in a large chair, or on the sofa, or even upon the piazza, if it had been nicely dusted and inspected, until the setting sun sent them away with the calmest kisses at parting.
As Hope grew older she had teachers at home--recluse old scholars, decayed clergymen in shiny black coats, who taught her Latin, and looked at her through round spectacles, and, as they looked, remembered that they were once young.

She had teachers of history, of grammar, of arithmetic--of all English studies.

Some of these Mentors were weak-eyed fathers of ten children, who spoke so softly that their wives must have had loud voices.

Others were young college graduates, with low collars and long hair, who read with Miss Wayne in English literature, while Mrs.
Simcoe sat knitting in the next chair.