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Various

"The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 05, No. 30, April, 1860"

Clerron, I will not recite any more!"
The agitated flush which had suffused her face gave way to paleness. He
saw that she was under strong excitement, and quietly replied,--
"Very well, you need not, if you are tired. You are not quite well yet,
and must not try to do too much. We will commence here to-morrow."
"No, Sir,--I shall not recite any more at all."
"Till to-morrow."
"Never any more!"
There was a moment's pause.
"You must not lose patience, my dear. In a few days you will recite as
well as ever. A fine notion, forsooth, because you have been ill, and
forgotten a little, to give up studying! And what is to become of my
laurels, pray,--all the glory I am to get by your proficiency?"
"I shall study at home just the same, but I shall not recite."
"Why not?"
His look became serious.
"Because I cannot. I do not think it best,--and--and I will not"
Another pause.
"Ivy, do you not like your teacher?"
"No, Sir. _I hate you!_"
The words seemed to flash from her lips. She sprang up and stood erect
before him, her eyes on fire, and every nerve quivering with intense
excitement He was shocked and startled. It was a new phase of her
character,--a new revelation.


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