The rendezvous was the piazza in fine weather, and the library when it was damp or cloudy.

The fidelity with which the senior Germans gathered up their books and left, when their hour was over, was mainly due to the kind thoughtfulness of Mrs.
Hollenbeck, who was always prompt, and always found some excuse for carrying away Charlotte and Henrietta with her when she went.
It can be imagined what those hours were to me, those soft, golden afternoons.

Sometimes we took our books and went out under the trees to some shaded seats, and sat there till the maid came out to call us in to tea.

Happy, happy hours in dreamland! But what peril to me, and perhaps to him.

It is vain to go over it all: it is enough that of all the happy days, that hour from six o'clock till tea-time was the happiest: and that with strange smoothness, day after day passed on without bringing interruption to it.