The door was thrown hospitably open, and the lamplight
streamed forth and ran down the steps, and lay in a long rectangular
pool upon the road. Abbie stood near the entrance, directing the ladies
one way and the gentlemen another. Punctuality at an affair of this kind
being among the village virtues, the whole company was present within a
surprisingly short time of the appointed hour.
"Good-evening, Professor Valeyon; good-evening, my dear; how well-you
look! Step up-stairs--the first room on the right."
"My pupil is to be here to-night, isn't he?" inquired the professor, as
his daughter vanished.
"Yes, he said he'd be down. He doesn't seem to be used to society. Miss
Cornelia told me she thought it would do him good to begin, so I went up
the other day and asked him."
"Oh! humph!" said the old gentleman, who had vainly endeavored to catch
Abbie's eye while she was speaking. He stood silent a few moments, and
then moved off to the gentlemen's dressing-room, taking a pair of
white-kid gloves from his pocket as he went.
Cornelia, having removed her hood, put on her slippers, shaken out her
skirt, touched her hair with the tips of her gloved fingers, and settled
the ribbon at her throat, descended to the reception-room--as that part
of the entrance-hall where Abbie stood was styled--and found her papa
awaiting her.
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