"But I do not see how doing a wrong thing can serve them. You spoke, just now, of the necessity of Mabel's supporting herself, eventually, but if she is admired, as you say, and as I think she deserves to be, why not give her the chance of being married; she can have but one husband after all."

"Only one husband!" repeated Mrs. Villars, "why she acts as if she wanted twenty. How can you tell what is going on, shut up here with your books? First, there is Clair, who paid such attentions to Lucy at Aston; see how she treats him now she has got him on her books--why just on, and just off, ready for any emergency."

"I never saw anything improper in her conduct, indeed, I was pleased with the respect he paid her, seemingly apart from love or pique."

"Why one would think that you sat down here and invented people's conduct as you wished it to be; but surely, love, you must have seen the very pointed attentions Henry paid Caroline, before that insinuating girl came to the house?"

"No, indeed, I never knew anything more than you told me, and, for my own part, I never saw anything like attentions even."

"You never see anything, I declare, but I tell you he did, though you do seem to doubt it--you should see how she manoeuvres to appear angelic in his eyes. More artfulness I never met with; so cheerful, so forgiving, and so everything, when she likes, that really it is quite provoking. Poor Caroline says she cannot bear it."

"Why does she not imitate the rival she cannot outshine, for she has sufficient natural grace and talent to make her fascinating. Oh!

Caroline, I fear there was something wanting in our children's education."

Perhaps she agreed with him, for she did not stop to argue the point, but continued in the same tone.

"I do declare this is not all, and you shall know what she is; of that I am determined. There is Mr. Stokes, whom I expected to come forward for Maria, has taken to dangle after her, and she has found the art of pleasing him too, poor silly man, by always pretending to avoid his attentions, and, as if this was not enough, she puts another iron in the fire, for safety, and tries to make a fool of Mr. Morley, poor old man.

Why, if this goes on, we shall be the laughing-stock of the place."

"There can be nothing ridiculous," replied Mr. Villars, "in protecting an orphan niece, without home or friends. I cannot believe that Mabel tries at anything of the kind, nor do I believe, that if my daughters act properly, she could hurt them if she did try."

"But," said she, entreatingly, "you will consent, won't you, dear, to let her take a governess's place, for a time at least, only till Caroline is married?"

"I will not, indeed, consent to anything unjust. There is a certain prejudice existing in society against the position held by a governess, and I should think it most injurious to her interests if I allowed her to a.s.sume it, unless I meant to neglect her altogether. Do not, I entreat you, let a mistaken love for your children, make you neglect what you owe to yourself. Remember, that, as the sister of Mrs. Lesly, you owe something to poor Mabel; and you cannot offer, as an excuse for refusing her a refuge, that I am unable or unwilling to allow you to go to the lengths of even romantic generosity. We owe her much for the good she has done our Lucy."

"What! In making her a prude and a saint; there is an end of her chance of settling, I see clearly--"

"I do not see why, for there is nothing exaggerated about her tone of feeling--but I know we always differed in the management of our children; I have grieved enough over it, but it is now too late to remedy our mistakes, we can only trust to circ.u.mstances; they, with Mabel's a.s.sistance, have worked a striking change in Lucy. There, let us say no more about it, you would be sorry to do an unkind thing, I know."

Saying this in a tone of more than usual decision, he left the room, thinking sadly over the selfishness of his wife and family, which this conversation had laid so openly before him.

No sooner had he left the house, than Caroline and Maria went to the library, anxious to hear the success of the interview. Poor Mrs. Villars stood like a culprit before them, when obliged to confess that their papa had gone, with the understanding that the matter was ended, and Mabel was to remain. The mother and children seemed to have changed places.

"Well, I did think you would have managed better than that," said Maria.

"I do not think you half tried," said Caroline.

"Try yourself, then," retorted her mother.

"That, indeed, I will not; you brought the evil into the house, and it is but fair that you should have the pain of removing it."

"Well, well, my dears, I will do my best, only do not be so angry with me--go and get ready for dinner, there's dear children, I will try again."

"Soon then, if you do at all," said Caroline.

"Yes, very soon, dear, impetuous girl."

Satisfied with this promise, they went to prepare for dinner.

Unfortunately, as it happened, Mr. Villars was met, not far from his own door, by Mr. Stokes, who skilfully managed to get him to ask him in to dinner. That he had but one object in doing so, was evident, by the pointed attentions he paid to Mabel; and, in the evening, having managed to get her to play a game of chess--he kept her over it for an hour or two, refusing to see any of her mistakes, or to take any of the pieces she carefully threw in his way. She grew more and more impatient, when she saw that he was bent upon keeping her; and when she had been nearly three hours over the game, she begged him to allow her to give it him.

"On one condition," he replied, "that you will allow me to give you any thing I like in return; this, for instance," he continued in the same low key, glancing down significantly at the large strong hand which rested carelessly on the chess-board.

"No no," said Mabel, blushing from her neck to her forehead; "I gave you the game, but I will never take any thing in return."

The last few words were said with decision, and point, though covered by the appearance of jest, as she rose and left the table. Maria saw every thing, and marked well the expression of Mr. Stokes's face, so serious, so unlike his usual jocular tone.

"It will be too late," she said to herself again and again, "if I do not take care, but I will trust to my wits still." Mr. Stokes soon afterwards took his leave.

Before they went to rest, the mother and sisters found an opportunity of talking over Mabel's coquetry--and so far strengthened themselves in the idea of the necessity of removing her, that Mrs. Villars determined to do so, whatever came of it.

CHAPTER VI.

Mourn not the perishing of each fair toy, Ye were ordained to do, not to enjoy, To suffer, which is n.o.bler than to dare; A sacred burthen is this life ye bear, Look on it, lift it, bear it solemnly, Stand up and walk beneath it steadfastly; Fall not for sorrow, falter not for sin, But onward, upward, till the goal ye win.

F. BUTLER.

The next day was unusually warm. Heavy clouds had been slowly rising up from behind the hills all the morning, till they covered the whole sky, and frowned darkly down upon the gay city--and the air was hushed with heavy silence. Mrs. Villars and her daughters were sitting in the drawing-room, at work; and Colonel Hargrave sat at a side table, near the window, touching up a sketch, which he had that morning finished, of the venerable abbey. Mr. Villars, too, walked into the room, for people love to be together when a storm is coming. He took up the paper, and sat down. Lucy looked fondly at him from her work--and then walked to the window to look at Hargrave's drawing, and to whisper him to come away, in case it lightened--for, between them, a friendship had sprung newly up--she had thanked him for all that had before offended her, and he was always ready with some little act, which shewed he felt a kindness for her.

He told her he was finishing his sketch for her alb.u.m--and she thanked him frankly, and not with the blush, as formerly, which is as often the tell-tale of a sinful, as of an innocent heart, and reminded him that he had promised her some lines for her alb.u.m, as well, and she would go and fetch it.

"Well," said he, when she returned with it; "bring me a pen, for I have just made an impromptu."

She brought him a large goose quill, and, after carefully mending it, he wrote as the sky grew blacker and blacker, the following lines:--

"As the sun-light on the fountain, As the ivy on the tree, As the snow upon the mountain, Or the moonlight on the sea.

"As the zephyr gently blowing, As the dew-drop on the rose, As the rippling water flowing, As the sun at evening's close.

"So is woman in the beauty, Of a heart unstained by sin; When bright eyes beam with purity, Which they borrow from within."

"There," he said, pa.s.sing her back the book, "now I will finish the sketch; but," he added, under his breath, "do go and look for Mabel, the storm is coming up so fast--I hope she is not out."

"No, she is in her room I dare say, but I will go and find her if I can."

So saying, Lucy left the room, bearing the alb.u.m with her, to read the lines to Mabel.

As soon as she was gone, Mrs. Villars looked up from her work and said to Hargrave--

"I want your advice, Henry, on a little matter."

"I shall be most happy to give it," he said, gaily, still intent upon his drawing.

"Well, then, do you not think the most prudent thing we could do for Mabel would be to get her a nice place as a governess?"