"This is a strange account! We must have a little conversation, mydear, in the evening. Correction, or advice, will have no effectwith you, Miss Vincent. You are not aware that your conduct will bedeeply impressed upon the mind of every young lady present: it willbe remembered when you have forgotten the circumstance yourself. Ishall expect to see you with your sister."

  Mrs. Adair looked round upon her pupils with a countenance of affectionand concern. "Young ladies," she added, "it behoves you to conductyourselves in this house in a manner, that you may go forth into theworld with modest confidence, arising from the pleasing reflection thatyou have fulfilled your duty in all things. Then, in future life, whenyou unexpectedly meet a school-companion and friend, how pleasant willbe the greeting! And when I am old and infirm, should you recollect me,and call upon me as the friend of your youth, how gratifying will it beto my heart to think that I have been one means, in the hands ofProvidence, of giving to society discreet and amiable women."

  CHAPTER VIII.

  The vacation now commenced. The physician had ordered change of air forJane, or rather change of scene: she therefore accompanied Miss Cottonto spend a month with her parents. Elizabeth, however, would not acceptany invitation. Mrs. Adair was surprised at the circumstance, knowingthat young people are fond of novelty, particularly after theconfinement of a school.

  "It is strange that you have refused all our friends," she said to herdaughter, "especially your old favourite!"

  Elizabeth coloured highly. "My dear mother, teaching has given me thewisdom to value a comfortable home. How quiet we are this evening! andwhat a cheerful, blazing fire! and as for this tea, I think I nevertasted any thing so fragrant."

  "And are these your reasons for remaining at home?"

  "O no! but only think how pleasant it is to be free from monotonousvoices buzzing in one's ears! To-night I shall go to rest without thefear of being disturbed 'with the sound of the school-going bell,' andshall rise to-morrow an independent being."

  "Ah, Elizabeth! is there no vexation, or lurking regret, dwelling uponyour mind? your countenance will betray you. Believe me, there are manyobstacles to the fulfilment of our wishes in this world. In all thingsit may be said, 'we look through a glass darkly.' But no more on thishead: you have reason, and you must exert it. Be assured of one thing,we are often wisely disappointed in our plans of happiness; if we attainour wishes, we must not expect to be wholly free from care."

  "I have promised to spend a few days with Colonel Vincent's family. Youshall go with me to town on Thursday."

  "But, my dear mother, you know--"

  "I understand you," said Mrs. Adair. "I do not mean that you shall betheir visitor; I have another plan in view. I know that Miss Damer isvery uncomfortably situated at home, therefore you can call for her, tospend the time here whilst I am absent."

  The morning Mrs. Adair and her daughter arrived in London, Elizabeth sata few minutes with Mrs. Vincent, and then proceeded to B---- Square,where Mr. Damer resided. As she entered the house she beheld all thingsin confusion; men were employed in packing up china and chandeliers;straw and cord were strewed over the hall floor; and people were runningin every direction, carrying trunks, chairs and sofas. Elizabethinquired for Miss Damer: and was answered by a footman in a very surlytone, that "he knew nothing of her." An elderly, respectable lookingfemale now stepped forward, and begged Elizabeth would follow her. Theypassed through two empty apartments, and she then gently opened a doorinto a room which was little more than a closet, the light issuing froma small casement. A band-box, a bookshelf, and a trunk, upon which MissDamer was seated, close to a grate, containing the dying embers of afire, were all that Elizabeth could discern. Her pupil started from herseat, with eyes red with weeping, and in a confused tone exclaimed,"Miss Adair here!"

  "I am here, indeed," said Elizabeth; "and I hope I am come to a goodpurpose. But what has caused this strange confusion? But I beg yourpardon," perceiving the distress of her pupil, "I was not aware of whatI was saying. You must come with me; I came hither on purpose for you."

  "Then you have heard of our troubles, ma'am?"

  "I see them all. But we have not a moment to spare." Guided by theimpulse of the moment, Elizabeth dropped upon one knee, opened theband-box, took out a bonnet, and then searched the trunk for a pelisse.Miss Damer looked down upon her dress--

  "Never mind your morning dress, my dear: this will cover all," said she,as she assisted Miss Damer with her pelisse; and as she tied the stringsof her bonnet, exclaimed, "Now we shall do; but we must go immediately,for the days are short." As they were leaving the room, the elderlyfemale came up to them: "Where are you going, my dear young lady?"

  "Ah, my good nurse, I had forgotten you in my surprise! This is MissAdair: but I am so confused, I scarcely know what I am doing--only thatI am going where I have been most happy! But you will write to me, orsee me, or something."

  "If you wish to see Miss Damer, come in one of the morning coaches,"said Elizabeth.

  "I thank you, ma'am, kindly," said the nurse. "You are now in goodhands, my dear young lady, so do not fret; Providence, I have often toldyou, would never desert so dutiful a daughter; and you find an oldwoman's words may be true. We shall be happy yet, never fear. Peoplecannot forget their own. Never mind if they do: there is an eye over youin all your ways. And there is a death-bed, too," said she in a lowvoice; "then conscience will be heard--there is no saying, I won't hear;no creeping into corners, and running away. When the arms drop, and thehead is weary with anguish, coaxing and paint will not give one jot ofcomfort; no, nor the sight of the most beautiful face upon earth. Begood, then, my dear young lady, for the evil day will come to us; andwhat a blessing it will be, if we can say with sincerity, 'the Lord'swill be done.'"

  CHAPTER IX.

  As Elizabeth was stepping into the chaise she suddenly recollected thetrunk; and turning to the nurse, desired it might be instantly corded,and given to the driver. A man who was standing at the hall doorexclaimed, "but we must first search it."

  "Search it, then," cried Elizabeth, haughtily, "but do not detain us inthe cold."

  "Cold, forsooth!" said the man; "I wonder what people would be at, withtheir fine carriages! I shall take my own time, I can assure you,ma'am, though your feathers are so high!"

  "There is no arguing with vulgar, obstinate people," said Elizabeth, asshe drew up the chaise window; she did not consider, that civility isdue to every person; it is, however, too much the case with young ladiesthat they think they have a right to command with authority, and,however unreasonable, that their command must be obeyed.

  Elizabeth saw that her pupil was too deeply affected to answer anyquestions, therefore during the ride remained silent. In the evening,however, Miss Damer mentioned that her father had left the kingdom, andwith a trembling voice added, "there are circumstances, ma'am, which itwould not become me to reveal; when Mrs. Adair returns home, as far as Iam at liberty, I will explain the cause of our distress."

  "Not another word upon the subject," cried Elizabeth; "I was notattending to you, for this teasing kitten has ruffled all my silks."Elizabeth turned the kitten out of the room, and began to put hernetting balls in order, saying at the time, "what have I to do with yourfather's affairs, my dear? I will not hear any family secrets; for I donot love secrets of any kind. You are in the house of friends: thereforetry to be happy. My mother and sister never make professions: by theiractions you must judge them. For my part, I would rather have one actof kindness than a thousand promises, or words of praise and comfort.But come and assist me with my silk, for I can do no good with it."

  Elizabeth wrote the particulars to Mrs. Adair, and finished her letterwith the hope that the promise she had given to their pupil, of having ahome with them, would not be disapproved.

  Mrs. Adair received this letter with some degree of displeasure. She wasnot one who was generous for worldly fame; she justly considered thather pupil's friends were the most proper persons to provide for her, an
dlost no time in calling at her late residence. On her arrival at thehouse, she found all the shutters closed; an elderly female, however,at the moment stopped and unlocked the door, who proved to be the nurseElizabeth had seen.

  Mrs. Adair followed her into the house, which was quite desolate: not apiece of furniture was remaining. She inquired if Miss Damer had anyrelations or friends to take care of her. "No, indeed, madam," said thenurse; "her mother's sister is the only near relation, and she hasmarried somebody. It was a sad day for my poor young lady! she wasstupified with grief! Her father fled--and the sheriff's officers in thehouse! All things were in confusion! chairs in one place, carpets upondining-room tables, satin curtains upon the floor, nothing in itsplace; and then to see the nice things my good mistress had once sohighly prized, handled so roughly! Ah, madam, ladies little think, whenthey are so delicate in handling their finery, into what brutish handsit may fall at last! But a happy thing it was, that my mistress did notlive to see the confusion."

  "The young lady!" said Mrs. Adair; "other affairs I have not any thingto do with."

  "My young lady, madam! Ah, from a child she knew the right from wrong;but sorrowful was her life, after her mamma's death. She was nosquanderer of her father's money--she knew the value of every thing; nowaste, no scantiness was her mode. But it was a sad day when she ceasedto rule in her father's house. O, Madam, I have seen her so treated! Butit will come home at last to those who have triumphed in theirwickedness; justice overtakes sinners in the long-run."

  Mrs. Adair now inquired if Miss Damer had heard from her father.

  "No, Madam; nor dare he return to England; he is too profligate to thinkof any person but himself, and the painted, gaudy creature and herchildren who are gone with him. But I hope my young lady will find afriend with you, Madam, for I am sure you are Mrs. Adair."

  Mrs. Adair told her to make herself easy respecting Miss Damer, anddesired she would go down and spend a day at her house. "It will be asatisfaction to the young lady to see you," she added.

  Scarcely was Mrs. Adair seated, on the evening she returned home, whenElizabeth, in a tone of fretful impatience, asked "why her letter hadnot been answered?"

  "I pass over your question," said Mrs. Adair, "to ask why you did notconsult me, respecting a provision for Miss Damer?"

  "It was impossible! I could not keep her in a state of suspense."

  "But do you consider, that bills must be discharged, and that servants'wages and taxes must be paid, before we make even an ideal division ofthe sums we are to receive from parents? And for Miss Damer, we shallnot receive sixpence! And who is to pay for the harp, the pelisse, thebonnet, and the books that her father requested us to purchase? Likewiseher washing bills, and many other extras, which of course add to theaccount."

  "O, my dear mother," said Elizabeth with astonishment, "I could not havesupposed that you would have thought of these petty things."

  "I have more than thought, for they have dwelt upon my mind. Greataffairs women seldom have anything to do with; it is in the petty,every-day concerns of life, that we are called upon to be prudent. Howmany men date their troubles to the thoughtless extravagance and wantof economy in a wife! But, for the sake of bringing the subject home toyour own bosom, we will suppose that you are a young married woman."Elizabeth blushed, and was attempting to speak, but Mrs. Adair checkedher. "You receive your friends, and return your parties in bridalfinery; one excursion takes place of another, and gaiety upon gaietysucceeds; this passes over, and with faded dresses, faded looks begin.At least, care sits a little heavy on your husband's brow; he perceivesthat you are deficient in all the requisites for a good wife; and whenhe looks round the uncomfortable apartment in which he is seated, histhoughts naturally revert to the home of his youth, and his prudent,excellent mother; you are too much the lady to attend to domesticconcerns. 'Servants receive high wages: and they must do their duty.'And what is their duty? Just to please themselves; and tease you formoney for trifles, and to go to market. You supply all their wants,without considering what is wasted, and what is really wanted.

  "Next we will suppose that a young family demands your aid: nay, yourconstant care. 'But the fatigue, and the bustle, and the noise ofchildren distract you,' Poor, helpless little things; they have notreason to take care of themselves: additional servants must thereforebe engaged. And they are constantly with nurses, who sometimes coaxthem, sometimes beat them, and sometimes scold them; so, through theirmother's idleness, they learn many vicious tricks. Evil grows upon evil.Through your extravagance, and your husband's misfortunes, you arebrought to beggary. How do you like this picture?"

  "O, mother! you do not think so ill of me! I would do every thing, andsubmit to every inconvenience, rather than involve the man I shouldmarry in misery."

  "Depend upon it, Elizabeth, people live in an ideal world, when they donot think of proper ways and means to provide for a family. The wordliberal, in its modern sense, means profuseness to needy adventurers,and idle friends; indifference to the nearest and dearest ties,originate in this misapplied term. A liberal spirit runs into debt tohonest tradesmen, and with an unruffled countenance hears of theirbankruptcy. The liberal treat as lords, when they know they are onlybeggars. Believe me, the most estimable characters are those with whomthere is the least tendency to this overflowing prodigality of kindness.It is, however, my wish to serve Miss Damer. She shall be educated for agoverness. But let us not neglect the old despised adage: 'Be justbefore you are generous.'"

  CHAPTER X.

  From the first day that Miss Vincent entered Mrs. Adair's house as apupil, she was anxious to return to Madame La Blond's. Whilst theColonel was at home, she knew it would be in vain to mention thesubject; but no sooner was he called abroad, than she wrote in the mosturgent terms to her mamma to remove her. "I shall never be happy here,"she added, in her letter, "for Mrs. Adair is so strict, and tiresome!You will be surprised, mamma, when I assure you that she is quite asanctified Methodist: we have prayers in a morning, and prayers in anevening, and are obliged to write sermons! She is not by any means asuitable person to finish my education; and there are not five youngladies in the school, whose parents drive four horses. At Blazon Lodgehow different! They were all fashionable, excepting two. Do, my goodmamma, let me return to my dear Madame La Blond. Miss Adair has actuallyput me into Murray's small grammar, and I am only in the third class."

  In passing through the gallery, Mrs. Adair found the copy of the letter;and whilst she was reading it, Miss Vincent cautiously advanced, lookingearnestly upon the floor. On seeing the paper in Mrs. Adair's hands,she hastily exclaimed,

  "O, ma'am, that is mine! I have just dropped it: it is a copy of music,I believe!"

  "Then I will look it over again," said Mrs. Adair, as she entered theschool-room with the paper in her hand.

  Miss Vincent followed, with a countenance of scorn and vexation.

  "Take your seat, Miss Vincent." Here there was a long pause; the youngladies looked at each other, wondering what was to come next. Mrs. Adairread the copy again. "Why do you censure us so severely?" she asked.

  "I only think, ma'am--I think--" and here she hesitated; but at lengthher former assurance returned, and she said in a more audible voice, "Ithink, ma'am, we have too much religion introduced. In the circles wheremamma presides, it is never mentioned."

  "From my own knowledge of your mamma, I do not think you are exactlycorrect. But let that pass: and now answer one question: no doubt youare anticipating the time when you will be released from all schoolduties: when you enter the gay world, how many years do you expect topartake of the joys of a fashionable life?"

  Miss Vincent was silent.

  "Bating all casualties," continued Mrs. Adair, "forty years of gaietyis the utmost that a female can expect; and in scenes of pleasure,days, months, and years glide swiftly away. The value of time isunknown: at least, it is not properly estimated, till grey hairs,wrinkled features, and a debilitated frame check the career; theneternity, with all
its hopes and fears, opens to the view. We will for amoment consider you upon the bed of sickness, surrounded by your family;a physician, with an air of irresolution, writing a prescription, andyour anxious countenance denoting the insufficiency of all earthly aid;will the remembrance of balls, routs, and artificial scenes, cheer thedying hour? The moment arrives when you close your eyes upon this worldand its vanities; 'ashes to ashes, and dust to dust,' finish the scene!The mouldering earth is lightly scattered over the coffin, and the tombis deserted by survivors. But remember, a day will come when you will becalled to judgment, to answer for your deeds upon earth. In what mannerwill days, months, and years of folly be justified, in the presence ofyour Creator and Judge?"

  CHAPTER XI.

  A little time after the discovery of the letter Miss Vincent returnedhome to her mamma, who had been some time seriously indisposed; and, tothe great joy of Mrs. Adair, the following week Miss Russel left theschool, to accompany her parents to the Continent.

  "Now we shall go on pleasantly," said Mrs. Adair to her daughters; "theonly two disagreeable girls we had under our care are removed: and ifever I have another of a similar description, I will send her homeimmediately, whatever be the consequence."

  Mrs. Adair's mind, at the time she said this, was a little irritated,for she had heard something particularly unpleasant respecting theconduct of her late pupils. She now resolved to be strict in future;never allow the young ladies to be alone, even in the play-ground, norpermit them to spend an hour from the school between the vacations,except by the express desire of parents in particular cases.