The Charm School
seemed to speak with a clear but not wholly disagreeable accent.
He thought Elise might slip back for an instant, just to say good night to him, but, though he waited a long time, she did not come, and so he finally went away.
In the mean time Mr. Johns hurried up-stairs to find Mrs. Rolles, the oldest and most important lady there, sitting entirely alone on a slender gilt chair in the midst of the ball-room. It would not be true to say that Mr. Johns feared Mrs. Rolles, for he didn't, but he treated her almost as an equal.
"Nearly late—nearly late," he said, cheerily, hurrying across the empty room.
"You are late, Mr. Johns," said Mrs. Rolles, rising and taking his arm, "but I dare say you have some excellent reason for a rudeness which is doubtless only apparent."
"Well, I have," he said, stumping hastily down the stairs with her. "I've been having an interview with Elise's schoolmaster—devil of a lot of fuss about the education of the young—more trouble than it's worth, I often think. What use is education to 'em, anyhow?—girls especially."
Mrs. Rolles stopped short. "Don't tell me," she said, "that Austin Bevans is here in this house? Oh, I hope not!"
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