“ Donc je n’y serai pas ,” 180 declared I, involuntarily.

“ Soit! ” 181 was his response; and, gathering his flowers in his arms, he flashed out of classe ; while I, consigning my work, scissors, thimble, and the neglected little box, to my desk, swept upstairs. I don’t know whether he felt hot and angry, but I am free to confess that I did.