An Unsocial Socialist

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ung lady excitedly, “leave the room this instant; and don’t dare to come back until you get leave.”
The boy’s countenance fell, and he sulkily went out without a word.

“Is anything wrong?” said the matron, putting away her book with the unconcerned resignation of an experienced person who foresees a storm in a teacup. “Where is Sidney?”

“Gone! Gone! Deserted me! I–” The young lady’s utterance failed, and she threw herself upon an ottoman, sobbing with passionate spite.

“Nonsense! I thought Sidney had more sense. There, Henrietta, don’t be silly. I