At all events, you may learn to appreciate home more!" Here the professor laughed again, as if he considered it a joke.
Cornelia was too much entranced by the new idea to have any notion of what he was talking about; she was already hundreds of miles away, living in stately houses, driving in magnificent carriages, sweeping in gorgeous silks and laces through gilded and illuminated ballrooms, and listening to courtly compliments from handsome and immaculate gentlemen.
But when, presently, her scattered faculties began to return to a more normal state, an unquenchable curiosity to know how the miracle was to be worked, seized upon her.

She dropped on her knees beside her father's chair, took his hand in both of hers, and looked up in his face.
"But how is it to be, papa, dear?
I mean, whom am I to go with?
and when am I to go ?--dear me, I haven't a thing to wear! Shall I have time to get any thing ready?
Isn't Sophie invited too?
How strange it all seems! I can hardly realize it, somehow.

From whom is the letter ?" "Can you remember when you were about nine years old ?" inquired the professor.
"I don't know, I am sure," replied Cornelia, in some surprise at the irrelevancy of the question.

"Nothing particular.

Oh! I know! we were in New York!" said she, beginning to see some connection, and breaking into a smile.
"Do you remember seeing a lady there," continued the professor, talking and looking straight at nothing, "who made a great deal of you and Sophie, and asked you to call her Aunt Margaret ?" "Oh--I believe--I do--," said Cornelia, slowly; "I think I didn't like her much, because she was deaf or something, and talked in such a high voice.