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

Scarcely was Mrs. Adair seated, on the evening she returned home, when Elizabeth, in a tone of fretful impatience, asked "why her letter had not been answered?"

"I pa.s.s over your question," said Mrs. Adair, "to ask why you did not consult 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 of the sums we are to receive from parents? And for Miss Damer, we shall not receive sixpence! And who is to pay for the harp, the pelisse, the bonnet, and the books that her father requested us to purchase? Likewise her washing bills, and many other extras, which of course add to the account."

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

"I have more than thought, for they have dwelt upon my mind. Great affairs 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. How many men date their troubles to the thoughtless extravagance and want of economy in a wife! But, for the sake of bringing the subject home to your own bosom, we will suppose that you are a young married woman."

Elizabeth blushed, and was attempting to speak, but Mrs. Adair checked her. "You receive your friends, and return your parties in bridal finery; one excursion takes place of another, and gaiety upon gaiety succeeds; this pa.s.ses over, and with faded dresses, faded looks begin.

At least, care sits a little heavy on your husband's brow; he perceives that you are deficient in all the requisites for a good wife; and when he looks round the uncomfortable apartment in which he is seated, his thoughts naturally revert to the home of his youth, and his prudent, excellent mother; you are too much the lady to attend to domestic concerns. 'Servants receive high wages: and they must do their duty.'

And what is their duty? Just to please themselves; and tease you for money 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, your constant care. 'But the fatigue, and the bustle, and the noise of children distract you,' Poor, helpless little things; they have not reason to take care of themselves: additional servants must therefore be engaged. And they are constantly with nurses, who sometimes coax them, sometimes beat them, and sometimes scold them; so, through their mother's idleness, they learn many vicious tricks. Evil grows upon evil.

Through your extravagance, and your husband's misfortunes, you are brought to beggary. How do you like this picture?"

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

"Depend upon it, Elizabeth, people live in an ideal world, when they do not think of proper ways and means to provide for a family. The word liberal, 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 to honest tradesmen, and with an unruffled countenance hears of their bankruptcy. The liberal treat as lords, when they know they are only beggars. Believe me, the most estimable characters are those with whom there is the least tendency to this overflowing prodigality of kindness.

It is, however, my wish to serve Miss Damer. She shall be educated for a governess. But let us not neglect the old despised adage: 'Be just before you are generous.'"

CHAPTER X.

From the first day that Miss Vincent entered Mrs. Adair's house as a pupil, she was anxious to return to Madame La Blond's. Whilst the Colonel was at home, she knew it would be in vain to mention the subject; but no sooner was he called abroad, than she wrote in the most urgent 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 a.s.sure you that she is quite a sanctified Methodist: we have prayers in a morning, and prayers in an evening, and are obliged to write sermons! She is not by any means a suitable person to finish my education; and there are not five young ladies in the school, whose parents drive four horses. At Blazon Lodge how different! They were all fashionable, excepting two. Do, my good mamma, let me return to my dear Madame La Blond. Miss Adair has actually put me into Murray's small grammar, and I am only in the third cla.s.s."

In pa.s.sing through the gallery, Mrs. Adair found the copy of the letter; and whilst she was reading it, Miss Vincent cautiously advanced, looking earnestly 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 the school-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 young ladies looked at each other, wondering what was to come next. Mrs. Adair read 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 length her former a.s.surance returned, and she said in a more audible voice, "I think, ma'am, we have too much religion introduced. In the circles where mamma presides, it is never mentioned."

"From my own knowledge of your mamma, I do not think you are exactly correct. But let that pa.s.s: and now answer one question: no doubt you are antic.i.p.ating the time when you will be released from all school duties: when you enter the gay world, how many years do you expect to partake of the joys of a fashionable life?"

Miss Vincent was silent.

"Bating all casualties," continued Mrs. Adair, "forty years of gaiety is the utmost that a female can expect; and in scenes of pleasure, days, months, and years glide swiftly away. The value of time is unknown: at least, it is not properly estimated, till grey hairs, wrinkled features, and a debilitated frame check the career; then eternity, with all its hopes and fears, opens to the view. We will for a moment consider you upon the bed of sickness, surrounded by your family; a physician, with an air of irresolution, writing a prescription, and your anxious countenance denoting the insufficiency of all earthly aid; will the remembrance of b.a.l.l.s, routs, and artificial scenes, cheer the dying hour? The moment arrives when you close your eyes upon this world and its vanities; 'ashes to ashes, and dust to dust,' finish the scene!

The mouldering earth is lightly scattered over the coffin, and the tomb is deserted by survivors. But remember, a day will come when you will be called to judgment, to answer for your deeds upon earth. In what manner will days, months, and years of folly be justified, in the presence of your Creator and Judge?"

CHAPTER XI.

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

"Now we shall go on pleasantly," said Mrs. Adair to her daughters; "the only two disagreeable girls we had under our care are removed: and if ever I have another of a similar description, I will send her home immediately, 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 the conduct 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, nor permit them to spend an hour from the school between the vacations, except by the express desire of parents in particular cases.

When the young ladies heard there would be no half-day holydays between the vacations, there was a general consternation amongst them. Some murmured, and others were satisfied that Mrs. Adair must have good reason for her proceeding. When Miss Bruce heard the new rule, she said to Isabella Vincent, "I never knew such a thing! Not visit this half year! And my Aunt promised to take me to the exhibition, and Miss Linwood's works, and I don't know where! I never knew any thing so provoking! But I will be revenged, that I will!"

"And what will you do?" asked Isabella; "what do you mean by revenge? I am sure it is something very wrong."

"It is only making others feel as well as ourselves, that's all."

"But if they vex us, why should we vex them? I know I always feel sorry when I have made people angry."

"Don't talk to me--I will write such a theme!"

"Ah, Miss Bruce! mamma says we should never do wrong."

"I wish you would not mention your mamma, for it is a very ugly word."

"O, Miss Bruce, I never heard such a thing!"

"I once loved it dearly," said Miss Bruce, in a softened tone. "Those were happy days! I can fancy I see somebody now, sitting up in bed, with her nice white cap, so pale, and so pretty; and somebody kneeling by her, and praying for her, and blessing her. But all would not do, to save one I loved!" Here tears trickled from her eyes: but she suddenly recollected herself; "I must not think of it; it is over, and for ever gone! And now for my theme."

"Poor Miss Bruce," said Isabella, in a soothing tone, "I wish you were my sister, and then you would have my mamma, and she would love you so!"

"And do you think I would give up some one, for all the mammas in the world! No, no--there is no one like him. But I will mortify Mrs. Adair, that I will! To think that I must not go to my Aunt's on Thursday! And there will be my cousins, and Edward Warner, and Margaret James, and some one who is worth them all; though I don't talk of him as you talk of your Papa."

After musing a few minutes, with her pencil in her hand, and her head resting upon a slate, she joyfully exclaimed, "I have it, I have it indeed!"

"And what have you got?" cried Isabella, as she sprang from her seat, and looked over Miss Bruce's shoulder.

"Only my ideas; neither apples nor plums. But I wish you would not wipe my face with your curls. I have got the clue to my fable; I will have Mrs. Adair, and I think your papa too."

"I am sure you never shall: you never saw papa!"

"Indeed Miss Isabella, you are quite mistaken; I have seen him in shop windows, in magazines, and I am certain he is in a fine gilt frame in our study."

"I wish people would not take such liberties. Papa has no business to be in windows, and other people's frames."