The morning was a foggy one, one of the first bad fogs of the season. The boarders were cross--breakfast was not quite as luxurious as usual; even Jane was a little late and a little put out. The boarders were very fond of porridge, and it happened to be slightly burnt that morning. There were discontented looks, and even discontented words, from more than one uninteresting individual. Then Mr. Randolph came in, looking very fresh and neat and pleasant, and sat down boldly in the vacant seat near me, and began to talk about last night. Mother never got up until after breakfast. Mrs. Armstrong gazed at me, and Miss Armstrong tossed her food about, and the other boarders, even the Furlongs, cast curious glances in our direction; but I had determined to take him at his word, and to enjoy all the pleasures he could give us; and as to Mr. Randolph himself, I don't believe any one could upset his composure. He talked a good deal about our last night's entertainment, and said that he hoped to be able to take us to the theatre again soon.