THE BOARDING SCHOOL;

 OR

 FAMILIAR CONVERSATIONS BETWEEN A _GOVERNESS AND HER PUPILS. _

 WRITTEN FOR THE AMUSEMENT AND INSTRUCTION OF YOUNG LADIES. 

 LONDON: PRINTED FOR G. AND W. B. WHITTAKER, AVE-MARIA LANE. 1823. 

 LONDON:

 PRINTED BY COX AND BAYLIS, GREAT QUEEN STREET, LINCOLN'S-INN FIELDS. 

PREFACE. 

Those persons whose time is devoted to the instruction of youth, havenot only abundant opportunities of ascertaining the capacities of theirpupils, but of observing their various dispositions, and of noticing theeffects which have been produced on them by previous habit and example. It seldom happens that amiability of temper, respectful behaviour tosuperiors, or kindness to inferiors, distinguish children who in theirinfancy have been left to the care of menials, or who have beensuffered, by the blind indulgence of parents, to gratify their forwardinclinations; and it as rarely occurs that those who have had thebenefit of good example and parental admonition in the "bud of life, "display much propensity to vice as they grow up, unless their moralsbecome contaminated by afterwards forming improper companions. Withreference to the effects of early education, it has been most trulysaid, that

 "Just as the twig is bent, the tree's inclin'd. "

And though a variety of causes may operate to form the character, orgive a bias to the mind, it is a fact not to be controverted, that earlyimpressions are never wholly eradicated, and the magic of some wellremembered maxim or parental caution will often come very seasonably tothe aid of the most experienced. 

In pourtraying the characters which are introduced in "THE BOARDINGSCHOOL, " the Author has endeavoured to represent, by contrast, theamiable and unamiable passions; and, by exhibiting them in their truecolours, to render her fair and youthful readers as emulous to imitatethe one, as they will doubtless be to avoid the other; while thenarrative, being of the most familiar kind, will, it is hoped, contribute to their amusement. 

THE BOARDING SCHOOL. 

CHAPTER I. 

Elizabeth Adair was stooping to prop a rose-tree in a viranda, when shehastily turned to her sister, and exclaimed, "it is useless attendingeither to plants or flowers now: I must give up all my favouritepursuits. "

"But you will have others to engage your attention, " returned Jane. 

"And will they afford me pleasure? You may as well say that I shalllisten with joy to the foolish commands of some parents, and thehaughty remarks of others. "

"Let this be our comfort, " said Jane, "sensible people always treat theinstructors of youth with respect; they neither command with pride, norcomplain with insolence. "

"But think of the change! We, who have had every indulgence, and nocares to perplex us!"

"My dear Elizabeth, in the day of prosperity we seldom rejoice withthankfulness; but in the time of adversity, when our path is darkened, then we can bitterly repine. Surely we should place our joys and oursorrows against each other, as a defence from a murmuring spirit. "

"It is not late trials that trouble me, but future vexations that Idread. You know that I have never been accustomed to stupid, drawling, spoiled children. "

"I hope, " said Jane, "you will not have a class of this description toinstruct. "

"O, all things will be easy to you, for you love children and loveteaching; but I have never applied my mind to any thing of the kind: Ishall not know how to ask the most simple question in nature. "

Jane smiled, as she said, "Since you are so very doubtful of yourabilities, I think I will give a short lesson upon teaching. Suppose youask your pupil if she has learned grammar: if she replies in theaffirmative, desire her to explain the nature of the different parts ofspeech. Then try her abilities in the arithmetical tables, or from thehistory of England; tell her to relate some particular event in thereign of one of our kings, and go on to other subjects in a similarmanner. In the first instance, however, always hear your pupil read;clear, distinct reading, with proper emphasis--I do not mean in atheatrical style--is one test of abilities; give her some pointedpassage from history, or from any suitable book. "

"I want an example, " said Elizabeth. 

"Now, sister, you are trifling, and will lead me to trifle in return. "

"In 1199 John signed Magna Charta, the bulwark of English liberty;" or, "the king wept when he found himself a prisoner; but the master ofGlamis said--"

"Go on, my dear Jane: the master of Glamis I will not have any thing tosay to. "

"You forget, " said Jane, "that we are not to finish a sentence with to, or for, or any word so insignificant. Let a little girl read, 'remembernow thy Creator in the days of thy youth, ' or something in the sameeasy, impressive style. But consult my mother: she will give you thebest information upon the subject of teaching. "

"Ah, " said Elizabeth, "my spirits fail when I think of the task! I onlywish the first week were over. "

"It will pass away like all other things. We have only to be resolute indoing our duty, and leave the rest to Providence. Let us at all timesremember our own excellent instructress: her 'authority, when mostsevere, and mustering all its force, was but the graver countenance oflove, watering at once and nourishing the plant. '"

CHAPTER II. 

It will, perhaps, here be necessary to say something of Mrs. Adair; Iwill not, however, enter upon her motive for opening a boarding-school. It is a well known fact that the loss of fortune, contracted incomes, ortroubles in one shape or another, are the origin of almost all femaleseminaries. I never heard but of one lady beginning a school, andpersevering to the conclusion of a protracted life, without any motivebut benefiting a friend. To her credit let me remark, that she neverregretted this, as it may justly be styled, "labour of love. "

Mrs. Adair's personal appearance and manner were calculated to exciterespect and deference from pupils. The general cast of her countenancewas serious, to a degree bordering upon severity; but when she didunbend, the cheerfulness that beamed in her features, and the benevolentexpression of her dark and pleasing eyes, invited confidence and regardfrom every beholder. She had been a widow several years, and was goingto commence a school patronized by respectable friends. I shall notattempt to describe her daughters, for beauty is of so perishable anature, and of so little value without good qualities, it is but timewasted dwelling on the subject. Jane, the youngest, had been some timein a delicate and declining state of health; and, viewing life asuncertain in its tenor, had wisely adapted her mind to passingcircumstances. Next to her brightest hopes, was her desire to be usefulwhilst she remained upon earth. 

Elizabeth had high health and spirits, and could ill brook the idea ofthe restraint and confinement of a school. But the evening was nowarrived previous to beginning "the irksome task, " as she styled it. 

Mrs. Adair had been looking over her folio, and her daughters wereseated at their work, when she observed, "We may consider ourselvesparticularly fortunate, for I have now the promise of fifteen pupils. Several things, however, we must take into consideration. Elizabeth, youare sometimes a little petulant in temper: remember you must never berash in deciding, or hasty in punishing; curb the bold, but encouragethe timid. We must likewise be cautious to treat the parents of everychild with equal respect; not allow ourselves to be dazzled withglittering equipages, or dashing manners. And let us be tender andcareful of children who are deprived of a mother: give them all the aidin our power, to make them a credit to their father's house. "

"And I think, my dear mother, " said Elizabeth, "it will be necessary tofix children of weak capacities in one class: let all the dunces gotogether. "

"But we must first weigh their talents justly, " returned Mrs. Adair;"and always recollect, that 'children of the present age are the hope ofthe one to come. '

"There is one thing I particularly charge you to avoid: never speak in atone of ridicule of any lady who has previously instructed a pupil;there is something contemptible in trying to depreciate the talents ofanother. We are not to consider ourselves as supreme in wisdom, for ourabilities are moderate; if we can do good, I believe it is the chiefmerit we can claim. "

"I hope one thing, " said Elizabeth, "that the young ladies must never beallowed to learn their lessons at meals; for I am persuaded they willthink more of the present participle _loving_ than of declining the verb_to love_. And I trust likewise, my dear mother, that you will never letthem read their own themes at public examinations: for the voice I amcertain will tremble when hundreds are listening. "

"We will not talk of public examinations, my dear, until we have triedour own abilities at teaching. But I must caution you never to criticizeletters from parents or friends; nor look upon a teacher as a solitarybeing, without friends and without feelings. "

"I hope you do not think I would exact too much, or be unreasonable inany command to a teacher, " said Elizabeth. 

"I do not say that you will do so; I only wish to remind you, that weshould have due consideration for those persons who are dependent uponus. And now I have only to observe, that we must not think entirely ofthe time our pupils are to be with us, but extend our thoughts to theperiod when they will be enabled to judge by what spirit we wereactuated. In teaching, punishing, or rewarding, let us always considerwhether the means we then pursue will be useful to the young lady infuture life. "

CHAPTER III. 

Elizabeth with some degree of impatience stood at the drawing-roomwindow, looking for their first pupil, on the morning the school wasopened. At length a carriage drove hastily to the door, and she returnedto her seat. 

With a flushed and agitated countenance she had now to welcome one ofher mother's earliest friends. Colonel Vincent advanced into the roomwith two daughters, and in a cheerful tone exclaimed, "I hope, my dearMiss Adair, we are your first scholars; we have strained every nerve tosurprise you with an early visit, and an auspicious one I hope it willprove. "

"I hope so too, Sir, " said Elizabeth quickly; "but I thought we shouldhave had the pleasure of seeing Mrs. Vincent. "

"She was obliged to go down into the country to visit her father, "returned the Colonel, "and deputed me to act for her. I have to beg thatyou will treat our children as the children of strangers: reward themwith favour when they are good, and punish them when they are otherwise. We have confidence in our friends, therefore shall never listen to anyidle tales; but my little girl, " he continued, as he fondly stroked thehair from the forehead of his youngest daughter, "will I know betractable and very good. "

"That I will, Papa; only I wish I had my doll, and the cradle. My cousinEliza has a barrel-organ, a garden-chair, and I don't know how manythings, at her school. "

"Your cousin has a large fortune, and is a simpleton, " cried Caroline, the eldest daughter. "But pray, ma'am, who is to teach music?"

"I shall make the attempt, " said Elizabeth; "how far I shall succeedwill depend upon my abilities to instruct, and your patience andperseverance in gaining instruction. "

"O, ma'am, I have learned seven years of the first masters. "

"There has been a wonderful waste of time, and money!" cried theColonel. "You rattle the keys, as blundering soldiers when commanded tofire: no taste, feeling, or judgment in the execution. "

"But at Madame La Blond's, Papa, I was allowed to play in the very firststyle, and was always called upon to exhibit to strangers. "

A servant at this moment announced "Mrs. Towers;" and a stately female, dressed in the extreme of fashion, with a measured step entered theroom, followed by a delicate, interesting looking young lady, but with avery dark complexion. Mrs. Towers moved very profoundly to Elizabeth. "Permit me to introduce Miss Arden as a pupil, " she said. "She is fromthe East, and under our guardianship. For certain causes we removed herfrom her last seminary; we did not consider it (as she is a young ladyof large fortune) sufficiently fashionable. As we understand ColonelVincent, a man whom every one must applaud, has declared that he and hisnoble lady will patronize Mrs. Adair, from this circumstance alone Ihave brought Miss Arden hither. "

Colonel Vincent smiled, and stepped to the window to converse with hisyoungest daughter. "It is particularly unfortunate, ma'am, " added Mrs. Towers, "that the young lady has so very dark a look; but I assure youshe is not a creole. " Tears started into Miss Arden's eyes, and hercheeks were tinged with a deep blush. Mrs. Towers now made another verylow curtsey, with "a good morning, ma'am; I have several visits to payin this neighbourhood. " As she passed the young lady, she whisperedsomething respecting mixture and composition. 

Colonel Vincent now led his daughters to Miss Arden. "Let me introducethe young people to each other, " said he; "who I hope will be friendsand pleasant companions. "

Isabella, his youngest daughter, looked up in her face; and taking herhand, said, "I am sure I shall love this lady, if she will love me. "

Her sister turned her head, and with a scornful smile exclaimed, "Youare always taken with strangers! I wish Miss Russel would come! Ithought she would have been here early. "

"This is an insolent young lady, " said the Colonel, looking at hisdaughter with displeasure. "But my Isabella, Miss Arden, will begrateful for your kindness. "

"I have so few, Sir, to regard me, " said Miss Arden, "that I shallindeed be happy to gain the love of this little girl. "

Elizabeth now asked if she would walk in the garden. "Come, my littlepet, " said the Colonel, "give me one kiss; and go with this young lady, and try to divert her. And do not forget to bring her with you thefirst holiday, and we will have a merry day; all your young friendsshall be invited to meet you. "

In the course of the morning most of the young ladies arrived. It was acomplete day of bustle. There were trunks and packages to be removedfrom the hall into the dressing-room; then one wanted her reticule, andanother a book from her bag; and a third was searching her basket forgood things, either for her own private eating, or to give to some oneto whom she had taken a fancy. Then there were so many conjectures, "whoand who such ladies were?" Miss Vincent and Miss Russel, who weredeclared friends, kept apart from their companions. There were few, indeed, they would deign to notice; and no one, unless her Papa had acarriage. There was an air of scorn in their countenances, which seemedto say, "here is a motley group, indeed!"

Jane had been confined to her chamber the whole of the morning, but inthe afternoon strolled into the garden to converse with the youngladies. She soon felt fatigued, and went into the summer-house to rest. There, to her surprise, she beheld a young lady with a melancholyaspect, seated, with her eyes fixed intently upon the floor. 

"My dear, why are you here alone?" asked Jane in a tone of kindness;"was there no young lady to walk with you?"

"No, ma'am; the ladies do not wish to associate with me. They object tomy complexion: and, I believe, they think that I am without feelings. The little girl would have remained with me, but her sister would notallow her. "

A loud laugh now proclaimed a party approaching the summer-house. Janewas shocked when she heard Miss Vincent exclaim, "Oh, do come in andbehold her! she is a complete creole! I never saw so frightful acomplexion!"

"The young lady is a stranger to me, " said another, "and I am sure Iwould not insult her upon any account. "

"That is a voice I know, " said Jane, stepping to the door. "My dear MissDamer, I wish to speak to you. " Miss Vincent and her friend instantlyretreated, and the young lady entered the summer-house with a blushingface. 

"Here is a young lady, " said Jane, "who is a stranger; and I may add, that she is in a strange land. In introducing her to you, Miss Damer, Ihope I am securing a friend for her: one who will not behold herinsulted. "

Tears now rushed from Miss Arden's eyes. "O! ma'am, I cannot thank youas I feel! Hitherto, I have only known rudeness and unkindness! When Ilost my father, I thought, in coming to England--England, so famed forevery thing great and noble--that I should be a stranger to all sorrowbut that of remembrance. "

Miss Damer was too much moved to express herself as she wished. "Come, "said Jane, in a cheerful voice, "we must not have sorrow at this ourfirst meeting. I perceive that Miss Damer and you will be friends, socome with me; you shall be my guests this evening, and we will leave theother young ladies to my sister. "

With a countenance expressive of kindness, Jane took an arm of each ofthe young ladies, and walked with them up the garden. As she passed MissVincent and her companion, she said very quietly, "Young ladies, I hopeyou will conduct yourselves better to-morrow. "

CHAPTER IV. 

When Miss Vincent entered the music-room to receive her first lesson, with haughty indifference she seated herself at the piano, and in acareless manner began a voluntary. Elizabeth, who was reading a letter, now closed it, leisurely opened a book, and desired her to play thelesson to which she pointed. 

"This piece, ma'am! Gravana thinks English music despicable. "

"And English manners, I presume?"

"Manners, ma'am! Madame La Blond's was a fashionable seminary. "

"And what is fashion, my dear?"

"Oh, nothing--nothing, ma'am, but doing as we please: we seldom sawMadame except in evening parties. "

"Then to whom were you indebted for instruction?"

"To our masters, ma'am, " said Miss Vincent, in a tone of surprise. "AtMadame La Blond's we were instructed in all the sciences; in the natureof valves; the specific gravity of bodies; the astonishing properties ofmagnetic steel; and how many thousand miles the sun was from the earth. "

"And perhaps you were told, by what means Archimedes burned the ships ofMarcellus, at the siege of Syracuse?"

"O no, ma'am; but we learned the art of memorizing by hieroglyphics. This formed a part of our morning exercises. "

"Pray, my dear, " said Elizabeth very gravely, "can you repeat themultiplication table throughout?"

Miss Vincent hesitated. "I know very little, ma'am, of figures: ourstudies were in general of the highest order. But it was a charmingseminary! We had no particular rules; we could go to rest, or rise whenwe pleased; and favourites were always asked to dance with selectparties in an evening. "

"I seriously regret, " said Elizabeth, "that we have robbed Madame LaBlond of so amiable a pupil. "

"Madame, I assure you, ma'am, lamented it. She told Papa I was thechief ornament of her school. But he was very angry, --I don't know why;but he questioned me so closely, that I might as well have been before acourt-martial. Indeed I am certain he would have ordered me, had I beena private soldier, to the triangle, merely because I said that Madamedespised people in trade. "

"And your Papa really vindicated trade!"

"Oh, ma'am, the Colonel has strange plebeian notions. I never saw him soangry as he was when I told him that we--I mean ladies of a certainrank--had been the means of sending a merchant's daughter from school, by styling her 'Miss Thimbleton, ' and 'the little seamstress. ' Hermamma had the meanness, I may say the impertinence, to send vulgar checkmuslin to be made into a frock, at Madame La Blond's! We took care, however, to break the needles, and burn the thread. "

"I hope you have finished your remarks: be pleased, now, to listen tome. In consequence of the close intimacy that exists between ourfamilies, I pass over your presuming manner this morning; butrecollect, " said Elizabeth with firmness, "that it shall never berepeated. If you dare to disobey, expect punishment. From this time youare never to speak to me, unless I ask a question. Now play the lesson Iproposed. "

CHAPTER V. 

Mrs. Adair had selected from the first class four young ladies, toregulate the younger pupils. They were to hear them repeat their lessonsbefore they entered the school-room; they were likewise to mark theerrors in their exercises, and endeavour, not only to instruct butamuse. 

It has been said that by teaching others we gain knowledge ourselves. Miss Damer was fully aware of this truth; all her leisure time, therefore, was devoted to the young people under her care. She had onlythree, and they had very different abilities: Miss Bruce's capacity wasbright, but she loved to defer all to the last moment; there was amixture of good sense and childishness in her character, and she waswarm and impetuous. Isabella Vincent had moderate abilities, but a verypersevering temper; whatever she had to learn, she laboured at it withher whole heart, and her disposition was placid and amiable. Miss Greywas a clever girl; she had been at an excellent school, and wasproficient in most of the minor branches of education. She was fond ofexercising her ingenuity to amuse her companions. One evening she hadcollected a party round her, intending to divert them with newgrammatical exercises. 

"Now, ladies, " she cried, as she held a paper in her hand, "are you allready, all prepared to listen and to learn? Miss Isabella Vincent, whatare you doing? I am certain you do not mean to attend. "

"If she will not attend, " said Miss Damer, stepping into the circle, "Iam quite prepared--"

"Oh, Miss Damer, are _you_ here?" cried Miss Bruce: "we shall have nofun now! I thought you were in the drawing-room. "

"Cheerfulness is one thing, fun another; but when they both cometogether, they are often noisy companions so we must do without themhere. "

"But we did not think you would come to us this evening, " said MissGrey. "Oh, do, Miss Damer, leave us to ourselves one half hour. "

"First let me read the paper you are trying to conceal. "

"You will only think it nonsense, " said Miss Grey; "but don't be angry, I beg, for it was only for our diversion. "

Miss Damer began to read:

'Mrs. Adair, substantive proper. '

"Very improper to take this liberty. " 'Singular number, feminine gender, indicative mood, perfect tense; face, mind, and figure, in thesuperlative degree. --Miss Warner inclining to the acute accent. '

"But what is she?" asked Miss Damer. 

"A noun proper, certainly, and of the singular number. "

'Miss Cotton, demonstrative pronoun; compare _good_, and she is in thesuperlative degree. 

'Miss Hilton, voice semi-vowels; in the primitive order by nature, governed by a queer looking definite article. 

'Miss Vincent, manner the imperative mood; self, first person singular;mind, imperfect tense; eyes, positive; voice, in the superlative degree;nose, the interrogative point. 

'Miss Bruce, an interjection, or an interrogative. '

"True, " said Miss Damer, "particularly where books are concerned. "

"Well, I do love books!" said Miss Bruce; "I do think I could readevery one in Mr. Chiswell's shop without being tired. Have you a new oneto lend me, Miss Damer?"

"If you say all your lessons well, and are good this week, I will lendyou a very amusing and instructive tale. "

"But what is the title?" asked Miss Bruce. 

"It is one word, meaning a mark of folly in young ladies. But I mustfinish the grammatical exercise. "

'Miss Rothman, a section sufficiently curved. '

"You should not have made this remark, Miss Grey. When you ridiculedeformity you shew a want of feeling; and, what is of more consequence, you prove that you treat with contempt the works of your Creator. MissRothman's talents, and amiable temper, we cannot too highly prize. "

'Miss Russel, an index to point out disagreeables; make her an article, and she will prove a bad one of the definite order. '

'The little Rhymer, a brace; and Miss Wise, a verb neuter. 

'Miss Damer, auxiliary verb, or substantive proper; first personsingular, face--' Miss Darner stopped a moment, and then went on with, 'Miss Jane Adair, --temper, syntax; consisting of concord and government;speech, a preposition; voice, liquids; face, mind, and figure, in thesuperlative degree; as the verb to be loved, second person singular, indicative mood, present tense, to myself and others. The remainder, excepting Miss Arden, may be classed with mutes, crotchets, irregularverbs, quotations, and parallels. '

"I wish, " cried Isabella, "I could write exercises, or a theme, orsomething, I don't care what. "

"And what is to prevent you, my dear?"

"Oh, nothing at all, Miss Damer, if I could but tell what to write. "

"Tell how the world was made, " said Miss Bruce, "that would be a verygood subject. "

"I cannot do that, I am sure! I do not know what stars are made of, they twinkle so; nor what makes flowers look so pretty, and smell sosweet; nor where the wind comes from, or what it is: it touches me, butI cannot touch it. "

"You have never read 'Evenings at Home, '" said Miss Bruce, "or you wouldknow that 'wind is but a quantity of air put into violent motion. '"

"But what is the air? Tell me this. "

"A clear thin fluid, certainly, and the earth is a vast ball; it wouldsoon break its bounds, were it not attracted by the sun. "

"But who preserves it in its regular motion?" asked Miss Damer. 

"Oh, Miss Damer, " exclaimed Miss Bruce, "all the stars, and the moon, and the trees, and all that we behold had but one to make them, and oneto support them--the Great Almighty Maker, who gave me my voice tospeak, my mind to think, and my eyes to look at the wonders of hisworks. "

"I wish I knew how I speak, and look, and think, " said Isabella. 

"My dear little girl, " said Miss Damer, "very wise people are ignorantin many things. Learn to be good: it is the best knowledge. "

"I do say my prayers every night and morning, and I'm sure I love papaand mamma dearly, and I try to love every body. "

"This is one way certainly to be good, if you obey your parents as wellas love them, and think of your prayers when you are repeating them. "

"I am sure, Miss Damer, I should love you, you are so good. I nevercould learn my lessons without you assisted me. "

"Because you are a dunce, " said Miss Bruce. 

"We shall see who will be the best girl and the best scholar, 'thebright and idle one, ' or my little friend, with 'patience andperseverance. '"

CHAPTER VI. 

A carriage and four, as it is styled, stopping suddenly at the gate, caused a little bustle. Amongst Mrs. Adair's pupils, some were ready tolook, and others to exclaim, "who can they be?" "what a beautiful girl!"and "what a nice little boy! but I fear he is lame!" "Oh, look! do lookat that queer old lady following them out of the carriage! How oddly hernose is turned! and what a droll bonnet!" "I wonder whether they willdine with us!" "I should like to know who they are. "

While these exclamations were uttered, Miss Vincent pursued other meansof gaining intelligence of the new comers. She stole softly into thehall, and screened herself from observation, in a narrow passage leadingto the store-room. The next moment she beheld a tall girl, an elderlylady, and a little boy ushered into the parlour. She listened to heartheir names announced, but in vain. As she was returning to theschool-room, the hall door was opened by Elizabeth. She hastilyretreated into the passage: but betrayed herself by stumbling over astand of plants, that had been placed there, till they could beconveniently removed. 

Elizabeth, hearing the noise, quickly stepped towards the passage, andperceiving her pupil, said very coolly:

"Botanizing, my dear! I fear you require light upon the subject; ifthere is any rare, very curious plant, give it the name of 'CarolineVincent, ' unless you prefer 'the Spy detected. '"

Mortified at the discovery, Miss Vincent hastened to the school-room, her face flushed with vexation; and as she rushed past Miss Damer, whowas standing near the door, exclaimed, "go out of my way, can't you?"

"Certainly! But what has alarmed you so?"

Jane now entered the room; and Miss Russel, who had been leaning throughthe window, hastily turned to Miss Vincent, and exclaimed, "I dobelieve, Caroline, there is a coronet upon the carriage! but I cannotmake out either the strawberry leaves or the balls. " Jane mildlyreproved her for leaning through the window, contrary to the rules ofthe school. 

The moment she had quitted the room Miss Russel exclaimed, "Theseteachers give themselves strange airs!"

"You should speak with more respect of Mrs. Adair's daughter, I think, "said Miss Damer; "excepting in fortune, Miss Jane Adair is superior toany person here. "

"But you will allow that she is a teacher, I hope. "

"And does it lessen her merit? If any particular class of females areworthy of respect, surely ladies who instruct young people are entitledto it; they are the guardians of morals and of manners. But in everyschool there are one or two ungrateful ones. "

"Hear the oracle!" cried Miss Vincent. "Another Daniel come tojudgment!"

"Rude manners and loud words do not intimidate me, " said Miss Damer, with modest firmness. "I again repeat, that a person who can instruct usin any one branch of education is entitled to--"

"What?" asked Miss Vincent imperiously. 

"Deference. More I cannot urge, to a young lady who has been at MadameLa Blond's. But I must not say more: for I should not deserve this, "extending her medal towards Miss Vincent, "were I to be the promoter ofquarrels. "

Miss Vincent hastily caught the medal, broke the ribbon, and threw themacross the room, exclaiming, "it is these baubles that make you soinsolent!"

The young ladies with one accord flew to the medal. Miss Arden however, was the fortunate person. On securing it, and returning it to hercompanion, she said, "accept this symbol of peace from my hand, my dearfriend. As for Miss Vincent, I just view her as the passengers in themail coach viewed the fly, for she makes herself equally ridiculous. "

"It is a pity that Miss Vincent is the daughter of so brave a man!"cried Miss Cotton. "Who would suppose that one of our greatest heroeswas her father!"

"Father! how vulgar!" returned Miss Russel. "Pray who is your papa, MissCotton, that you presume to give yourself these airs, and speak in thismanner?"

"My papa, Miss Russel, is a plain country gentleman, and I may say withtruth that he reigns in the hearts of his children, and has taught themto 'honour and obey their father and their mother, that their days maybe long in the land. ' But you fashionable young ladies, 'who press tobear such haughty sway, ' are exempt from this code, for there is noexpress command to honour _pas_ and _mas_. "

"I hope Mrs. Adair will never give another medal, " said Miss Damer. 

"You deserved it, " cried Miss Cotton with warmth, "and I hope you willalways be rewarded for excelling, in every thing you attempt. "

"A person must be envious indeed, " said Miss Arden, "who can for amoment feel hurt at another being rewarded!"

"Had they your temper, " cried Miss Cotton, "envy would indeed beunknown; but medals of merit, as they are styled, certainly createstrife. "

"But heroes, poets, and artists are distinguished by many proofs ofregard, " observed Miss Arden; "why should we be against a reward tomerit here?"

"You do not consider, " said Miss Cotton, "great men, have great minds;but we have very little ones. "

"I can only say, I pity any one with a malicious temper: and a personmust have one, indeed, who can envy Miss Damer; for she never provokesto anger, or gives offence. "

"And pray how are you to answer for Miss Damer?" asked Miss Vincent. 

"I wonder you ask this question, " returned Miss Arden. "From the firstday I came into this house I had reason to dread you; and love, andesteem, Miss Damer. Though I was a stranger to every one, you made me asubject of ridicule;--but I will not tell you of all your unkindness. "

"Pray how long have you been, in studying this set speech?"

"Only whilst you were setting your face to look contemptuously. "

"Wonderful! I could not have supposed that a creole had wit! But Iforget, you are the heiress of a rich nabob! Pray to what black knight, or noble emperor, are you allied?"

"Oh, fie! fie! how can you be so insolent!" cried Miss Damer. 

"Miss Vincent's words do not trouble me: they have lost their power; lether be as severe as she pleases. If she could not display her talent insatire, we should say she was the simple one of Mrs. Adair's school:there are drones and dunces every where. "

"My dear Miss Arden, let us cease all disputes, " said Miss Cotton; "MissVincent and her friend are the most suitable persons to be together, when they are in a quarrelsome mood: let us forbear speaking to them. "

"Cotton would make an admirable methodist parson, " cried Miss Vincent. 

"I wish I could return the compliment; for a good method leads to properconduct. "

CHAPTER VII. 

The young ladies had always to write an extract from one of thesermons they had heard at church on the sabbath day. In thisexercise of memory Miss Damer particularly excelled; the mostdifficult sermon she could transcribe almost word for word. This hadexcited the spirit of envy in Miss Vincent. The week after thedispute upon the medal, when Miss Damer opened her book, wherein shehad written a sermon with extreme neatness, she found every line soscrawled, that one word could not be distinguished from another. Surprised at this proof of secret malice, she involuntarily gave thebook to Miss Cotton, who was seated by her. Mrs. Adair, however, desired to look at it. After examining every page, she said, and atthe same time fixed her eyes upon Miss Vincent, "I pity the younglady who has done this; she has betrayed one of the meanest passionsof the human mind. " She now looked anxiously round the room; "I seefew countenances, " she added, "where envy reigns. 

"Miss Vincent, had you ever this book in your hand? speak in amoment--yes, or no: I want no other word!"

"No, ma'am; I never had the book in my hand, I can declare with truth. "

"Miss Bruce, is this your work? for I know you are a little busy-body. "

"O no, ma'am! I would not blot any lady's book for the world. "

Mrs. Adair now turned to Miss Arden: "my dear, have you been amusingyourself with your companion's book?"

"No, ma'am. "

"The mystery, I think, will soon be explained: and I fear I shall findthat there has been more artifice than truth in a young lady'sassertion. Come hither, Isabella, I wish to speak to you. "

Little Isabella's features betrayed confusion and terror: and as sheslowly walked up the room, she burst into tears. "Do not be afraid, "said Mrs. Adair, in a soothing tone of voice, "I am not angry with you. Tell me plainly how it was. What did your sister say to you?"

"O, ma'am, she said--O dear, I wish I were at home--"

"Come, speak the truth, my dear. You know you are one of my best littlegirls. Tell me how you were led into this error. Speak openly, and donot be afraid. "

"I have not done it--I mean, I have--O dear, where is mamma?"

"Happy at home, I make no doubt. But were papa and mamma here, it wouldmake no difference, for I must have the truth. Did you mark this book?"

"O dear, yes, ma'am! but I would not have done it, but I must do it. O, sister, you know--you do know--and you will pinch me so! Do, dear, goodMrs. Adair, tell her not to pinch me, for I know I shall scream!"

"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, andlost 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. 

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

"And what will you do?" asked Isabella; "what do you mean by revenge? Iam 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 sorrywhen 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. "Thosewere happy days! I can fancy I see somebody now, sitting up in bed, withher nice white cap, so pale, and so pretty; and somebody kneeling byher, and praying for her, and blessing her. But all would not do, tosave one I loved!" Here tears trickled from her eyes: but she suddenlyrecollected herself; "I must not think of it; it is over, and for evergone! And now for my theme. "

"Poor Miss Bruce, " said Isabella, in a soothing tone, "I wish you weremy 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 theworld! 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! Andthere will be my cousins, and Edward Warner, and Margaret James, andsome one who is worth them all; though I don't talk of him as you talkof your Papa. "

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

"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 wipemy face with your curls. I have got the clue to my fable; I will haveMrs. 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 shopwindows, in magazines, and I am certain he is in a fine gilt frame inour study. "

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

"Why, don't you know that only great writers, and great fighters, andvery good men, and very bad men, are noticed that way! If your papa wasnot good as well as great, he would not be fixed in our house, unless inthe servant's room, with Jemmy and Sandy, and the Storm, and Auld RobinGrey. Whatever you may think, it is a very great honour to be noticed bysomebody that I could name. "

"I have not any thing to do with honour, " cried Isabella, "and talkingof things I don't know. "

"Hush! don't speak! Can't you see that I am busy. I wish I knew whatpeople do when they have great books to write. My thoughts jumble sotogether, I can't tell what to make of them; it is sad teasing work. "

"If Caroline was here, she could tell you what to write. "

"And do you think that I should ask a dunce? If I could but begin, Iknow I could go on. " Here Miss Bruce considered a little. "I must thinkof my thoughts: no, I must write them down. "

"O, Miss Bruce, Miss Bruce!" cried Isabella, eagerly, "do look throughthe window; there is a balloon flying, and a paper boy tied to it!"

"I wish you were flying too: don't you see that I want to write myfable. Let me see: Ass, 1; Farmer Killwell, 2; somebody's papa, but notmine. Turkey, 3; Barn-fowls, 4; Little schoolgirl, 5. O, how shall I putall these words together to make any thing of them! O, that I could butbegin! There it is!" said Miss Bruce joyfully; and she wrote severalwords upon her slate. "Well, there is nothing like a good beginning! Iwill finish to-night; so now let us go to the ladies, " and Miss Bruceskipped out of the room, with her slate and Isabella. 

CHAPTER XII. 

With some surprise, Miss Damer, in looking over the themes, read thefollowing fable:

"One bleak, cold winter morning, an ass and her foals were loiteringupon the edge of a wild common; not a tree was to be seen, and scarcelya bit of herbage for their breakfast to be found. 'This is a comfortlesslife!' said the ass; 'the winds are chilly, the snow will soon fall, andwe have not a shed to cover us! What shall we do? for I fear we shallbe lost. ' The ass turned her head, for she heard the tinkling of bells, and saw a shepherd driving sheep from the common. 'Ah! a happy thought!we will go to Farmer Killwell, and tell our sorrows unto him. ' No soonersaid than done; they plodded through miry lanes, waded through shallowbrooks, and at length arrived at the farmer's gate. The tale was soontold. The farmer pitied their piteous case; 'but, ' said he, 'idlenessbringeth want. Exert yourselves, and you will find friends. Begin aschool at once; here are my poultry, my birds, and my young cattle toteach: not a moment is to be lost. '--'It is a good thing to have a goodfriend!' said the ass, as she stalked into the farm-yard. Here shebrayed with a most audible voice: 'Hearken to me, parents and littleones!' she cried; 'I am come hither to inspire you all with wisdom. '

"The goose, as wise as a goose can be, stared at the speaker; tossed herhead on one side, gave a loud quack, and returned to comfort hergoslings, who were fluttering in every direction. 

"'You little ducklings, ' continued the ass, 'don't spread your feet sovulgarly. Mrs. Turkey, I have long sighed for the honour of yourpatronage: the charming little poults, I hope, will gain new beautiesfrom our exertions. Mrs. Barn-fowl, your chickens are too timid; weshall soon teach them to hop with grace. As for these awkward maudlinrabbits, I fear we cannot do any thing with them; and these ill-bredcreatures, Mrs. Sow's progeny, we cannot attempt to teach. ' A sturdymastiff, who had followed the group of gazers, now barked furiously;dispersed the poultry, pushed Mrs. Sow and her family into the mud; and, spite of Farmer Killwell, drove the ass and her foals out of thefarm-yard. A little girl, who was witness to the hubbub, exclaimed, 'Ah!this is excellent! Mrs. Adair has borrowed a garment from the ass, toteach simple ones wisdom; but she will never teach little girls to lovenew rules. '"

"Where is the moral to your fable?" asked Miss Damer, with some degreeof anger. 

"I never thought of the moral; of what use would it be to my theme?"returned Miss Bruce. 

"And of what use is any theme or fable without a moral? But I wish toknow your motive for writing this ridiculous piece. "

"To vex Mrs. Adair, certainly, because she won't let me go to my Aunt'son Thursday. "

"And do you really think that it is in your power to vex Mrs. Adair withthis trifling nonsense? You may be assured of this, Miss Bruce, the onlynotice she will take of this childish, insignificant fable, will be tomake you read it to the ladies. "

"I won't be talked to in this way, though you are my monitress. I willwrite what I please;" so saying, she snatched the slate from Miss Damer, and in haste rubbed off the words. 

"The wisest thing you could do, " said Miss Damer. "Now sit down, andreflect seriously upon your conduct, and then tell me whether you feelquite satisfied with yourself, or whether you are grateful to Mrs. Adairfor her care of you, and attention to you. You are the only little girlwho has not a mamma: who would be so indulgent, so tender to you, asMrs. Adair?"

At these words Miss Bruce sobbed violently; but her sorrow was of shortduration: "You would vex any thing, Miss Damer, with talking soquietly. I like people to be angry with me, and then I can be angrymyself. "

"My dear, I shall not listen to you, so I advise you to cease talking:it is my plan never to argue with unruly little girls. Come, Miss Grey, and Isabella; we will go into the play-ground. "

Isabella whispered to Miss Bruce as she passed her; "do, dear MissBruce, be good. Why should you vex Miss Damer when she is so kind toyou?" Miss Bruce pushed her companion's hand from her shoulder, andturned her face to the wall, and there they found her on their return. 

When the bell rang for prayers, Miss Bruce sprang across the room toMiss Damer, who was seated, talking to Miss Arden, and throwing herarms round her neck, she exclaimed, "You must indeed forgive me; Icannot sleep unless you say, 'good night. '"

Miss Damer turned round, and kissed her: "Now, my dear, I hope you willnever offend me again. "

"Oh, Miss Damer! I will love you for ever, for forgiving me so soon. "The bell rang, and she hastened out of the room. 

"Should you not have been a little more stern?" said Miss Arden. 

"My dear friend, ask yourself whether you could be so to a little girlwho has no mother. "

Tears started into Miss Arden's eyes. "I did not think of that. "

CHAPTER XIII. 

One evening after school-hours, Mrs. Adair went into Jane's apartment, who at this time was chiefly confined to her chamber, and found herbusily employed sealing small parcels. One was directed, "For my friendMiss Damer;" another, "For my dear little Isabella Vincent;" and athird, "For my amiable young friend Miss Arden. " Mrs. Adair seatedherself with the work in which she was engaged: and as her eyes glancedto the sealed parcels, tears stole down her cheeks. 

"My dear mother, " said Jane with tenderness, "I am only making a littlepreparation before my journey. You must have been aware, some time, thatthe days of my life were numbered; and they will now be very few. But donot grieve on my account: it is the appointment of One, who is unerringin his ways. Excepting the separation from you and my sister, I feelthat I have no regret at leaving this world. 

"Death is a subject that I have often contemplated. The grave, and thelast perishable garment in which I shall be clothed, have now lost alltheir terrors. The evening I first arrived at school, when my mind wasfilled with grief at our separation, I remember being greatly shockedat the slow, solemn, deep tones of the village church-bell. I cannotdescribe my feelings at the time. Sorrow at leaving home rendered theawful muffled peal more dismal to my ears: but from that night I maydate my first serious thoughts of another world. I have never troubledmy friends with my reflections, but that bell was as a monitor, to warnme that I was not for this world. "

Miss Arden now entered the room; and Mrs. Adair gladly escaped, toindulge her tears in secret. With a calm collected countenance she thenre-joined her pupils; but at the same time experienced the sorrow of aparent, who knows she is soon to be deprived of a beloved child. ForJane's appearance too plainly denoted, that the period was at hand"when the keepers of the house would tremble. " At this time heruneasiness was increased by a melancholy, distressing letter from Mrs. Vincent, urging her not to delay a moment coming to her; that she was toundergo an operation, that would either close life or restore her to herfamily. Various feelings agitated Mrs. Adair's mind as she read theletter. After a little reflection, she fixed upon the proper mode ofacting, and in an hour a chaise was at the door, to convey her to herold friend. 

Jane had now been confined wholly to her chamber a fortnight. Herdisease was of a fluctuating nature: sometimes she appeared almost inperfect health; at others, as one dropping into the grave. She wasseated in an arm-chair, supported with pillows. When Mrs. Adair enteredthe chamber, one hand rested upon a book that lay open upon a smalltable, and near the book was her watch; her head was thrown back, andher face was covered with a muslin handkerchief. Mrs. Adair, who hadslowly opened the door, now as cautiously advanced; listened to hear herdaughter breathe; and then gently raised the handkerchief. Jane started. Afraid of disturbing her, Mrs. Adair remained some time with fixedattention, holding the handkerchief from her face. A hectic flush wasupon her cheeks; but her countenance was placid and happy. When shereturned into her own chamber, Elizabeth was there, who anxiouslyinquired if she had seen her sister. "But have you taken leave of her?"she cried. 

Mrs. Adair drew the veil of her bonnet over her face, as she said, "taking leave is a trial of all others--" and here she paused; "this isnot of any consequence to you. "

"O, my dear mother, we have no earthly hope, no support but yourself;let my sister's eyes rest for the last time upon the mother she has sotenderly loved; she will not die in peace unless you are with her. "

"My feelings are as irritable as your own, " said Mrs. Adair; "leave meto act according to my own judgment: not another word. Bring Isabellato me, for the chaise is at the door. "

While the ladies were walking with Miss Wilkins, the teacher, Elizabethwent into her sister's chamber; and at the door met Mrs. Lloyd, thehousekeeper, who had been ordered by Mrs. Adair to explain the motiveof the journey to Jane. 

"O, sister, " cried Elizabeth, "how could my mother, so considerate andgood as she is, leave you in this state!"

"We cannot tell all her motives, " said Jane; "only consider what were mymother's feelings, when she fixed her eyes upon this poor emaciatedframe, as she supposed, for the last time. "

"It was cruelty in the extreme, " cried Elizabeth. 

"Do no speak rashly, my dear Elizabeth; we will hope--" and her eyesbrightened with an expression of joy, "that all will yet be well; that, through the mercy of Providence, Mrs. Vincent will be restored tohealth, and that I shall be permitted to remain a little longer withyou. "

"O, that it were to the day of my own death, " exclaimed Elizabeth withfervency. "There are few persons to whom my heart earnestly inclines, and I would have them with me through this life, and all eternity. "

"My dear sister, these things are not at our disposal. But let usconsider the subject: every night we experience temporary dissolution:and then we are separated, even as if the hand of death had smitten us;when we go to rest, we have no positive assurance that we are to openour eyes again upon the objects of this world; still we project schemes;calculate upon probable and improbable events; but the entire suspensionof our faculties is never taken into the account. Yet we are ignorantwhether we are to open our eyes on the objects of this world, or thatwhich is to come. I own I have not any desponding thoughts; I rest aloneupon the mercies and the merits of a suffering and a redeeming Saviour;he is my sole refuge. To our mother, my conscience acquits me either ofintentional errors, or errors of omission. This is a source of thepurest consolation; it clears the rough, the thorny path to the valleyof death. Elizabeth, my dearest sister, listen to me before I go hence, and be no more seen. Every night recall to mind the actions of the day. Let this be the question you put to yourself: "Have I done my duty inall things?" Where you have failed, let the morning sun, as it rises, bea token to you that another day is given for wise and good purposes; inthe grave there is no remembrance of error, no atonement to be made fortransgression, for neglect of the social duties of life. "

Elizabeth gazed at her sister with feelings of tenderness and sorrow. 

"All things pass away, " said Jane, as she raised her eyes to hersister's agitated face; "but 'when this mortal has put on immortality, 'then Elizabeth, when we meet again, it will not be for transient days, and years, but for ages of eternity. "

Exhausted with speaking so long, she pointed to the book upon the table. "The spirit is willing, " said she, faintly, "but my voice is weak; willyou oblige me, sister?"

"From my heart I will, " exclaimed Elizabeth; "would that I could notonly oblige, but retain you for our comfort, for this world to my motherwill be a wilderness indeed. "

"Not so, " said Jane, tears flowing into her eyes; "my affectionate, mywarm-hearted sister will be my substitute! O, Elizabeth, friend dearestto me, may you be blessed where your heart is fixed. "

Elizabeth started, and her countenance became pale as death. 

"Sister, " Jane slowly added, "you could not keep the secret from me; Ihave traced it in all your actions; but, rest assured, it will descendwith me to the grave. "

CHAPTER XIV. 

Elizabeth was restless and uneasy the whole of the day that her motherhad taken her departure for Colonel Vincent's. The evening was wet andgloomy; the young people could not, therefore, take their usual exercisein the play-ground. After sitting some time with her sister and MissArden, she sauntered into the school-room, to observe how they wereemployed. Some of the young ladies were attending to their lessons forthe following day. One party had spread the road to happiness upon awork-box; all anxious to attain the desired haven. Another young ladywas seated alone, joining the map of Europe. In a corner of the room, apart from all her companions, Miss Bruce was reading the admirableinstructive tale "Display. " Elizabeth looked over her shoulder, "Mydear, I thought you had read that book six months ago. "

"O yes, ma'am; but I can read it over and over again: there is not a newbook now in the school. "

"You mean, " said Elizabeth, smiling, "that you have read them all. Butcan you explain the word "Display?" for I think most young ladies arepartial to it, in one shape or another. " A carriage now stopped at thedoor; and Elizabeth exclaimed, "who is in that carriage?" Miss Grey, whowas near the window, raised herself upon a box, and looking over theblind, cried, "Mrs. Adair, ma'am, and Miss Isabella Vincent. "

Elizabeth hastened from the room, and met her mother at the hall door, joyfully exclaiming, "O, my dear mother, this is an unexpected, welcomepleasure! But how is Mrs. Vincent?"

"Composed and comfortable; the operation was performed yesterday: but itwas not my intention to desert you: how could you think so?"

The truth was, Mrs. Adair had called upon the physician, and begged thathe would inform her daughter that she would return in the evening: buta press of engagements had prevented his visit to Jane, who now with joybeheld her mother enter her chamber. 

"I thought you would return to see me on my journey, " she exclaimed;"and you are returned, my dear mother. Blessed be this hour!"

Miss Arden and Miss Damer, from the hour they met in the summer-house, were strict friends. Their capacities were similar, and they were at thehead of the different classes. On the days appointed for geography, theyoung ladies were in a room called the study. Miss Arden had observedthat one of the servants, a respectable looking young woman, generallycontrived to enter the apartment, and busy herself with one thing oranother: but always looked, anxiously at the globes, or the maps, andstopped a moment to listen, either to the teacher or the pupils. MissArden noticed the circumstance to her friend; "I will certainly askCatherine, " she said, "if she has any motive in attending to ourpursuits; there is something in her countenance that excites mycuriosity. "

The first time she met her alone, she made the inquiry. 

"I have, indeed, ma'am, a motive, " said Catherine; "I would give all mywages, could I but learn as you do. "

"But of what use, Catherine, would learning be to you? You can read yourBible; and it will shew you all that is necessary for you to know. Yourduty as a servant, and the way to heaven, the place where we all hope tomeet, when we have done with this world, and its cares. "

"Ah, ma'am, I am not satisfied even with knowing this, though it is allthat a servant should know. "

"I do not understand you, Catherine. Tell me why you wish to gain otherknowledge?"

"Because, ma'am, I am most wishful to be useful to my parents. They arepoor, and have a large family to bring up. If I could but open a littleschool in our village, what a blessing should I be to them!"

"Well, Catherine, " said Miss Arden, after considering a little, "I willdo what I can for you--I mean if Miss Damer approves; for I dare nottrust to my own judgment. Meet me in the school-room early to-morrowmorning, and I well tell you how it is to be. "

When the friends met in the play-ground, they talked the subject over. 

"There cannot, I think, be any thing wrong in doing good to afellow-creature, " said Miss Damer, "therefore I think we may venture;but we must rise an hour earlier than usual. "

Catherine was delighted when she heard the result of their conference;and, with many expressions of thankfulness, promised to leave a lamp attheir door. 

The young ladies began the employment of teaching with alacrity. Theyendeavoured to ground Catherine in those things that would be useful ina village school. But geography her mind was bent upon, so Miss Ardenpresented to her a book; likewise several little works, which shethought would be useful. 

One morning, however, they were surprised in the midst of their lessons. "Begin that line again, " said Miss Arden. Elizabeth had walked gentlyinto the room, and now stood by the table where the two young ladieswere seated, and Catherine standing. When they beheld her, they allstarted, and looked aghast. "You are very early at your tasks, youngladies! But I did not know that we had a new pupil. Pray when did shearrive?"

"I beg you a thousand pardons, ma'am, for leading the young ladies to dowrong! It was all my fault, " said Catherine. 

Miss Arden related the matter plainly as it was. 

"I commend Catherine, " said Elizabeth, "for her wish to serve herparents; nor am I offended with you, young ladies, for wishing to serveher. But you must beware that we are not to do a wrong thing, even withthe very best motives. There is always something mean in actingclandestinely. Why could you not have been candid, and told me herwish? You must not meet here again. Catherine, when you have leisure, continue your lessons; and I will fix upon some other mode ofinstructing you; at least a proper time, not by the light of a lamp. "

CHAPTER XV. 

When the physician was first called in to attend Jane, he strictlyforbad any person sleeping with her: Elizabeth, therefore, removed to asmall camp bed, which was placed by her sister. 

A few mornings after Mrs. Adair's visit to Mrs. Vincent, Jane suddenlyawoke; and in an earnest, quick tone of voice, begged that her sisterwould come to her. "But first draw aside the window curtain, " said she, "That is right. Now come into my bed--only this morning--never--neveragain. "

Surprised at a request so unusual, Elizabeth instantly obeyed. "Do notsit up, sister, nor creep from me; lay your head upon my pillow. "

Jane now folded her arms round her sister's neck, and kissed hertenderly. --"This is my first and last proof of affection! O, sister!where--and when shall we meet again?"

The sun had risen, and gilded every part of the room. Jane raisedherself, as if by magic. "Let me behold every thing--for I shall neverbehold any objects upon earth again! This day my soul will be requiredby my Heavenly Father! Ah, my soul! it is an awful thing to die; evenwith hope and trust in thy Almighty Power! But Thou art mighty tostrike, --merciful and gracious in raising thy servants unto glory. "

Jane now paused; other thoughts seemed to arise. Her glazed eyeswandered from object to object. "Ah! there is my writing-desk; give thatto my mother! There is my Bible; that is for my dear little favourite!Here is my watch; but I cannot see the minute finger move. It is of noconsequence: time will soon be over! Keep it, my dear Elizabeth, andwhen you look upon it, remember we are to meet again!--Ah! thou brightluminary!" she exclaimed, with fervency, "I hail thee, this, my lastmorning upon earth, as the evidence of that Being, who will lead methrough the valley of the shadow of death, to never-ending glory! Whatis this life, my dearest Elizabeth, when we come to die? But where is mymother? I am weak--very weak, and faint. "

"Let me support you, dear Jane, " said Elizabeth, trembling with emotion. 

"Well, sister, " said Jane, faintly, "you shall support me. I will die inyour arms!"

Jane dropped in a state of insensibility upon her pillow. Elizabeth rangthe bell; and the next minute Mrs. Adair was in the room. She stepped tothe side of the bed where her youngest daughter lay; and, stooping, listened to hear her breathe. "My affectionate, my dutiful child!" Hereshe ceased, for tears checked her utterance. Jane sighed deeply; hereyes gradually opened, and, at length, rested upon her mother: by slowdegrees recollection returned. 

"Where could my thoughts be!" she exclaimed in hurried accents. "Is mymother here? Ah, yes! I behold her! I did not know you, indeed I didnot! But bless me; bless your daughter. "

Mrs. Adair tenderly embraced Jane; and in faltering accents blessed her. 

"My dearest, kindest mother, be comforted! We are parting--but to meetagain! The trial will soon be over! My hope is fixed upon the promisesof a merciful Redeemer! I am only going a little--a very little whilebefore you! How joyful is the thought, that we are not separating forever!--this is my joy, " and her eyes brightened as she spoke, "that Ihave reverenced my God, and loved my mother. But this pain;--O, it isviolent!--Mother--"... Here the voice ceased; not a sigh, not a whisperwas heard. 

Mrs. Adair, who had been supporting her daughter, now gently placed herhead upon the pillow, and silently led Elizabeth out of the room. 

At the door of her own apartment she saw Mrs. Lloyd; and desiring her totake the charge of Elizabeth, who appeared almost convulsed withanguish, instantly returned into the chamber she had so recentlyquitted. After indulging that grief, which the most unfeeling in somemeasure experience, when they behold the lifeless remains of a beingthey had loved, she calmly proceeded to accomplish the desire of thedeparted, in preparing her for that narrow spot, which confines all thatwas mighty, rich, noble, excellent--the despised of the world, theneglected of the world; that spot which is the boundary of ambition, andthe sure refuge for the distressed. 

CHAPTER XVI. 

When Mrs. Adair had retired to her own chamber, on the night of herdaughter's decease, and was reflecting upon the awful event of themorning, her attention was drawn from the subject by a low whisperingsound. Aware that the teachers and servants were retired to rest, shecould not account for the circumstance; she now heard doors slowlyopening, and was persuaded that different persons were passing her room. Alarmed, but at the same time collected, she cautiously opened her owndoor; and perceiving a glimmering light proceed from the chamber whereher daughter's remains were laid, resolved to be satisfied, and withlight, slow steps, advanced to the spot. There, with surprise, shebeheld several of her pupils. At the head of the bed stood Miss Arden, with eyes mournfully bent upon the face of the departed; Miss Damerstooped to kiss the corpse, and then burst into a violent flood oftears. "That smile, " said Miss Cotton, "proves that the soul isrejoicing in heaven. Where shall we again behold upon earth one soamiable or so lovely?"

"O, that I may be equally prepared, when my hour comes, " cried MissArden. 

"Hush! hush!" cried Isabella Vincent, in a tone of terror, "did you nothear some one breathe? O, do hide me. " She now covered her face with herfrock. 

Miss Grey took her passive hand, and tried to comfort her. "Look at MissJane, and then you will not be frightened; now do look--it is so simpleto be afraid; she appears only as if she were asleep. There is not anything terrible in death, only to wicked people; I am sure I should notbe afraid to die to-night. "

"I dare not look! indeed I dare not! do take me to my own room. "

"You must look at Miss Jane, or you will always be frightened at beingalone. You know I am but a little girl as well as yourself; but I shouldnot be afraid to sleep here to-night. Think how good she was! living ordead, she would never injure us. "

"O, take me away: I don't know what you are saying; why does not someone speak? O, do somebody speak, or I shall be frightened to death. "

Miss Grey whispered to her companion that Mrs. Adair was come into theroom. 

"Is she? O how glad I am! Now I don't mind. " Saying this, she uncoveredher face, and crept quietly to Mrs. Adair; who was asking why they hadassembled in the chamber at so improper an hour. 

"We should have been miserable, ma'am, " said Miss Cotton, "unless we hadseen Miss Jane to-night; and as we shall never behold her again, wethought, ma'am, you would pardon us. I could not have slept; and theother ladies declared the same. "

"But wherefore did you come, Isabella?"

"O, ma'am, because I dared not to be alone. "

"But why are you afraid to look at my daughter?"

"O, I am not afraid now; I will look at Miss Jane, " said Isabella withassumed courage; "but do let me take hold of your hand, ma'am; then Iknow I shall be safe. "

"You have better protection than mine, my little girl, or you would bepoorly defended. He who made you, he alone can guard you: but there isnot any thing to fear from the dead. "

Mrs. Adair led her pupil to the head of the bed. 

"Look, my dear, how happy and composed she appears; as quiet and soundas your little brother, when he is asleep. "

By degrees, Isabella ventured to turn her eyes upon the corpse; "I amnot afraid, I am not afraid indeed, " said she, almost gasping forbreath. At length her eyes were fixed upon the face of the deceased:"She can't be dead--she must be asleep! But hush! I do not hear herbreathe! Where is Miss Jane's breath now, ma'am?" As she said this, shetimidly stretched forth her hand, and lightly touched the face of thedeparted; then hastily starting back, cried; "must we all be so cold--ascold as marble?"

"We must all be so, indeed! There is no warmth, my little girl, when thesoul is fled. "

"But what is the soul, ma'am? and where is it?" asked Miss Bruce. 

"Your question is beyond my power to answer. The vital spirit, which wecall the soul, is given by God, to direct us to do that which is right;and, from childhood to the grave, is our faithful friend. My daughter, whose lifeless remains you are now contemplating, was in all her waysactuated by this spirit, to obedience, and to goodness; and in a stateof glory she will again exist, with a mind purified and exalted. Whatwould be the use of life, and of the wonderful powers with which we aregifted, were we to lie down in the grave, as the beasts that perish?"

"But how will Miss Jane rise again, ma'am?" asked Miss Bruce. "It is inthe Bible, that at the last day we shall be 'raised in the twinkling ofan eye. ' O, that I could behold Miss Jane rise now; then I should neverdie!"

"We read, " said Mrs. Adair, "that the seed is cast into the earth, andrises up wheat, or any other grain: but we do not know how this comes topass. The seed, that looks so insignificant in our eyes, after it hasbeen in the earth the appointed time, gradually breaks forth in all itsglory. We likewise shall be put into the earth; no longer valued, but bythe remembrance of our worth; there we shall moulder and decay, and intime be forgotten by all the inhabitants upon earth. But the season ofthe resurrection will come: the soul will resume her influence; we shallburst the fetters of the tomb, and appear before the Judge of nations, to answer for our deeds upon earth. Be good, then, my dear youngfriends; and, you will then neither have cause to fear death, or futurejudgment. And now take your leave--your final leave of one, who was inall things worthy of imitation; and learn with equal ease, to sleep ordie. "

CHAPTER XVII. 

The Sunday after the funeral, the young ladies appeared at church, withvery serious and sorrowful countenances; and afterwards, with Miss Ardenand Miss Damer, Jane was often a subject of conversation: they loved torecall her to remembrance; and the proofs she had left of her regardwere particularly prized by them. 

But serious impressions seldom remain long upon the minds of very youngpeople. Miss Bruce was almost the first to return to her old pursuitswith gaiety of heart. 

One evening, unknown to the teacher, she had strolled to the frontgarden gate, apparently on the watch for mischief. Isabella, who wasintent upon learning her lessons for the following day, had likewisepassed the boundary of the play-ground, and had sauntered the same way. 

Miss Bruce in a moment caught her hand, opened the gate, and ran withher into the lane. 

"Where are you taking me to?" exclaimed Isabella; "you have frightenedme so!"

"Nonsense! I only want you to go with me to the cake shop: we shan't befive minutes away. "

"But I have no business at the cake shop. And don't you see that I amlearning my lessons! You will make me forget all! 'Five times nine, forty-five. ' O, dear, I shall forget every thing!"

"What a dunce!" cried Miss Bruce; "only at forty-five! I will teach youten times further; and to add, and to subtract, if you will come withme. I do believe Miss Wilkins is there! Come along, or we shall befinely punished!" Saying this, Miss Bruce dragged Isabella down thelane, whilst she struggled to make her escape. 

"I will not go, Miss Bruce! you have no right to take me! I declare youhave made me drop my questions!"

"Never mind; I will give you question and answer too. Don't you see thatstile? and that nice white cottage by that large pool of water, wherethose children are throwing stones? We have only to turn down by thosetall trees, and we shall be there in a moment. "

"I dare not go: I know Mrs. Adair will be so angry!"

"I am determined you shall come! you are the most stupid little thing inEngland!" As Miss Bruce said this, she took firm hold of her companion'sfrock and arm, and drew her towards the water. Isabella in vain tried toescape. By this time, they had almost reach the pool; a boy, who hadbeen amusing two children, making circles with stones in the water, stepped from the edge of the pond, and marching boldly up to Miss Bruce, as boldly asked her, "what business she had to tease the little lady?"

"Do you think, Sir, I shall answer a rude, vulgar boy like you?"

The boy looked at her with contempt, and stooping to Isabella, said, "Do, little lady, tell me what this great girl is holding your frockfor?"

"She wants me to go with her for cakes, and I want to learn my lessons. "

"O, you are the ladies, then, from the great school! I thought I hadseen you before. I see how it is; this great girl is like Jack Ranger;she wants to get you into a scrape, that you may be marked as well asherself! But I'll defend you, never fear! It is not a crab-stick thatcan frighten me! Come with me, and see who dares to hinder us!" He nowcaught her hand, and tried to draw her from her companion. 

"You shall not go with her, against your mind, were she as big asHercules! We are English, and are not to be conquered. " Miss Brucesuddenly let go her companion's frock, and gave the boy a violent slapupon the face. "Go home, you little ragged creature, mend your coat, anddo not talk to ladies. "

The boy instantly recovered himself from the blow; and looking at MissBruce with scorn, exclaimed, "I am not a mender of old clothes, Miss!Take that for your pains, and your boarding-school manners!"

The blow he returned made blood to gush violently from Miss Bruce'snose. Isabella screamed; the children cried out, "very well, Tom! Iwould not be you for something. "

A pretty woman, but with a stern countenance, now came forth from thecottage, and asked what the rout was about. 

"Only our Tom and the lady boxing, " cried the children. 

"For shame of yourself, Sir! How dare you behave so to your betters?"

"I would have struck her, " said the boy, sullenly, "had she been as tallas the steeple, and as great as King George But come, little Miss, withme, and let that great girl do what she likes. "

He now ran off with Isabella. 

"Very well, Sir! but I shall tell your father of this, or my name's notGrace Johnson! But come into the cottage, Miss; and let us see what wecan do with your frock, for it is in a sad state. "

Miss Bruce followed the cottager, a little ashamed of her appearance;but more afraid of consequences. She was, however, one of thoseself-willed young ladies, who think upon a thing one moment, and actupon it the next. 

When Isabella and her champion arrived at the garden-gate, behold it waslocked! What was to be done was now the consideration. 

"We'll tell the truth at once, " said the boy: "it may be blamed, but, asthe copy says, it never can be shamed. But don't look so down, Miss:never mind a bit of a thrashing! Father gives me many a one; but I neverflinch!"

"If I am not afraid of that, I am afraid of Mrs. Adair looking serious;and not wishing me good-night. But do look and see if you can seemonitrix. "

"Monitrix! what, in the name of goodness, is that? Have you a great dogat school?"

"O dear, no; I mean the lady who hears my lessons before I say them toMiss Adair. "

"Is that all!" The boy stepped on one side, and looked up at the house. "No, I see nobody; there is not a creature in the windows. But I'll tellyou what, you shall stop here, and I'll go to the lady of the school. You shan't get anger, if I can help it; and I have helped it many a timeat our school, that the lads know, to my sorrow. "

The boy hastily ran to the front door, and rang the bell. In the meantime Isabella crept under the court railing to conceal herself. When theservant opened the door, he asked if the lady was in. 

"Do you mean my mistress?"

"To be sure I do; the mistress of the school; and must see her in amoment. "

Mrs. Adair was passing through the hall; and made her appearance, with acountenance not a little forbidding. 

"What do you want with me?" she asked. 

"Only, madam, " and here the boy hesitated; "I beg your pardon, madam;somehow, I have a little lady here: and I don't know what to do withher. "

"You mean something respecting one of my scholars; what is it? for I amat a loss to understand you. "

"Bless me! surely she's not run away!"

The boy sprang to the gate, and quickly returned. 

"She is quite snug; I thought she had given me the slip. A great girl, ma'am, ran away with her. She did not come down to the pond of her ownfree good will. This is as true as truth is. She pulled, and the greatgirl pulled; but with all her might, madam, the little lady could notget away. So then I marched up to the big girl; and asked her whatbusiness she had with the little one? So she was angry and vexed with myragged coat; and made my face ring again: and I gave her a good hardblow in return, and ran off with little Miss. I looked up for MissMonitrix, but could not find her; so here she is, under the rails. "

This was all a puzzle to Mrs. Adair; but she stepped into the lane withthe boy, and there she saw Isabella, seated, in great trouble, upon astone. The affair was now explained. Isabella was taken to Elizabeth, with the assurance that no one would be angry with her; but that shemust not mention the affair to any person. 

Mrs. Adair now proposed going with the boy to his father's. There was anexpression of honest warmth in his countenance, which, in a moment, changed her own manner; and, as they were going down the lane, she askedhow far they were from his father's house. 

"'Tis but a cottage, madam. Grandmother says we were once well off inthe world; but things will go wrong some how or another: but I'll makegood what I wrote to-day. "

"And what was it, my good boy?"

"Only to work while I am able, madam; and then when I am old, I willrest from my labour. But there is our cottage. I wish you could haveseen my own mother, for she was a nice woman. Don't you see that clumpof trees, and a barn with red tiles, and a little boy wheeling a barrow?That's my own brother, ma'am, and there's my father at the stile, looking about him. "

As they drew nearer the cottage, they saw the man and his son step overthe stile into the field, followed by a female. 

"Well, I declare, " said the boy, "there is mother with her bonnet! Iwonder what they are all after! And there's grandmother come to thedoor!"

He now called out: "Grandmother! here is the lady from the great school, coming to look for Miss. "

"Then I fear, madam, you are coming to look for what you will not find. Whilst my daughter went down to the pond, to the children, she slippedoff. My son thinks that the young lady is gone to London in one of thestage-coaches. If so, Tom, I fear thou wilt be well paid. "

"Ah, grandmother, that's nothing new! If my own mother was living, itwould not be so. "

"With your permission, " said Mrs. Adair, as she entered the cottage, "Iwill take a seat till your daughter returns. "

"Certainly, madam; here is a comfortable seat. But we are not theneatest people in the world, " said the old woman, as she took up achild's frock from the floor. Mrs. Adair looked round, and thought shehad never been in any place that had so little the appearance ofcomfort. 

The boy looked at her, and seemed to read her countenance. 

"It was not always so, madam: I remember we were once happy folks; butit was a sad day for Dick and I, when father's wife took place offather's love. "

"Thou shouldst think well of thy father's wife, and honour his choice. Stepmothers, child, have a hard task: they cannot please, do what theywill. "

"Grandmother, " said the boy, "kindness makes kindness, all the worldover. But, come what will, when uncle comes home, Dick and I will go toPlymouth, if we walk barefoot. I am sure he would break his heart, if hehad not me to fight his battles; but I will never forsake him by land orby sea. "

"Go to the children, and take care of them, " said the old woman. 

"And come to my house at four o'clock on Saturday afternoon, and ask forMrs. Adair. "

The boy made a bow in a blunt manner; but, as he waved his hand inpassing her, she thought there was an appearance of good breeding, thatwould not have disgraced a boy in a much higher sphere. 

CHAPTER XVIII. 

Mrs. Adair waited a considerable time in the cottage, and then returnedhome without receiving any satisfactory account of her pupil. All thatshe could learn was, that a little girl in a green bonnet had been seenstepping into a stage-coach. As coaches were continually passing the endof the village, she knew it was in vain making further inquiries. Shewrote, however, immediately to Mr. Bruce, and sent a messenger with theletter, that he might meet them in town. 

It has been observed, that Miss Bruce, in most cases, acted withoutreflection. The idea that she had done wrong did not strike her withfull force, until the carriage in which she had placed herself arrivedin London: the lights from the lamps, however, seemed to throw lightupon her thoughts. When the coach stopped at the inn, the bustle ofpeople gathering their luggage together, the idea that she did not knowthe road to her father's house, the certainty that she had acted in avery foolish manner, and fear of the reception from her father, excitedmany disagreeable thoughts. She was seated in a corner of the coach, ata loss how to proceed, when the coachman came to the door. "Miss, " saidhe "won't you alight? perhaps you are waiting for somebody?"

"I will thank you to take me home, " and this was said in a very humbletone. 

The man whistled at the request. "I don't know, Miss, whether I can orno. Did not your friends know that you were coming? But now I think ofit, you seemed in a fright when you got into the coach: what, was yourunning away, Miss?"

Vexed at the question, Miss Bruce quickly answered, "I am going to seemy papa. I have business with him. "

"Well, your business is not mine, Miss; but somehow, I think you havebeen cheating your schoolmistress. But come your way, till I can see forsomebody to go with you. "

I only wish some of my young readers could have seen Miss Bruce, howsimple she looked when she followed the coachman into the inn. Shewished to be at school, and with Miss Damer again--but it was then toolate. 

And here I would advise young people to beware of the first wrong step, for it generally leads to trouble and mortification, and often todisgrace. 

Miss Bruce stood some time unnoticed at the entrance of a large room, partitioned into boxes. Waiters and travellers just looked at the younglady, and then passed on: people were too much engaged, with dishes, papers, packages, and glasses, to attend to the little stranger. 

At length, however, one solitary gentleman, who perhaps had daughtersof his own, took compassion upon the forlorn traveller. 

"Come hither, my dear, and sit by me. "

Miss Bruce gladly accepted the offer, for she was a strange figure for astage coach passenger. Her white frock was rumpled, and in a sad statefrom the blow she had received; the tippet was in the same style; herold green silk garden bonnet hung half off her head. One of her longsleeves she had untied from her tippet, and taken it off; the otherremained. Garden gloves, cut at the fingers, completed the dress. Thusneatly attired, in an hour and ten minutes after her arrival in Londonshe was ushered by a new footman into her father's study, where he wasseated reading a pamphlet. In a moment he turned the book open upon thetable, raised one of the candlesticks above his head, and with a keensatirical look exclaimed, "what runaway is this?"

"Papa, it is I!" This was said in a very trembling accent. 

"And pray who is I, that comes thus attired, and unasked at thisunseasonable hour? Only wants three minutes of eleven, " said Mr. Bruceas he fixed his eyes upon the time-piece. "With whom did you travel?"

"With a little boy, and a great man, papa, and a little woman, with ababy and a lapdog. "

As Miss Bruce was speaking, she would have given a trifle to have beenat school again. 

"A goodly company indeed, young lady! By this I conclude that you havedisgraced yourself! Sit here" (pointing to a chair behind the door); "itis the only place for idle, thoughtless truants. And now give a reasonfor your conduct: But there is no reason, with foolish, giddy girls! Iwill have every word correct: no varnishing, or lies. "

After much hesitation, and many tears, Miss Bruce went through the wholeof her story. While she was speaking, her father seemed lost in thought. No sooner had she finished, but he started from his chair, and with hiseyes fixed upon the floor, walked some time from one end of the studyto the other. He then stopped, and looked sternly at his daughter. "And so you have been trying your skill at boxing! An admirableaccomplishment for a young lady! You have taken upon yourself to berude to your school companion; to be ungrateful to Mrs. Adair, andventured to ride ten miles in a stage-coach! And in what a dress! Youare indeed an enterprizing young lady! Now let me tell you, Miss Bruce, one simple truth: you have acted in all things contrary to that whichyou know is right. But pray what is the meaning of the word right?"

"To do all things that I know I should do; I do not know any thing more, papa; indeed I do not. "

"You know the right, but a perverse and wilful disposition leads you todo wrong. "

Mr. Bruce rang the bell, and ordered the housekeeper into his presence. When she entered the room, he commanded her to close the door. "Take mydaughter, " said he, "to the chamber that was occupied last night. Youare not to speak to her, nor allow any servant in the house to do so. Give her a little bread and milk: go, child. "

"Papa, "--here Miss Bruce sobbed; and would have added, "O, do forgiveme!" but her father sternly bade her leave him. 

Mr. Bruce looked at his daughter when she was asleep. He heard hermurmuring and intreating; and listened to words that affected himdeeply. He sat down by her bed-side until she was tranquil: and whetherhe shed tears of tenderness over her is best known to himself; but thefollowing morning, though his feelings were softened, his countenancewas equally stern. His carriage was at the door; and at ten o'clock heand his daughter arrived at Mrs. Adair's. Neither at breakfast norduring the ride had he uttered one word. "Madam, " said he, the moment hebeheld the mistress of his child, "I have brought a runaway. I will notmake an apology for her conduct: it is not in my way; it rests entirelywith yourself whether she will be accepted or rejected. Providence, inthe justness of his ways, has deprived her of an excellent mother. Howfar servants are capable of giving right ideas of female decorum, youare yourself to judge. When I fixed Margaret with you, it was not toeducation alone that I looked; my views and hopes extended toprinciples, temper, and conduct. The mere mechanical parts of educationmay at all times be purchased for money; automatons may be made toperform wonders. But we all know that something more is wanting to givesolidity and consequence to character. If you refuse my daughter, shewill lose her best friend. "

"Not another word, Sir, on the subject; I still expect to make somethingof this little girl. She is rash, careless, and perhaps a littlemischievous: but I am not without hope; and past grievances we will nowforget. Go, " said Mrs. Adair, turning to her pupil, "bring a frock tome; remember I pardon you now, but I shall never do so again; and takecare that you do not tell any person that you ran away, and were sofoolish. --It is well she is my god-daughter, and my namesake, " said Mrs. Adair, as her pupil crossed the hall: then, addressing Mr. Bruce, sheadded, "Depend upon my word, Sir; I will be the friend of your daughterin remembrance of her mother; this is the strongest claim upon myattention; far more so than that of a name. "

"I bless you again and again for your kindness, " said Mr. Bruce withwarmth. "I have now no fears for Margaret; she must remain with you, until you can say, 'your daughter is now all I can desire. '"

"This is exacting too much; 'all that you can desire, ' is beyond mypower to make her; but I will try to make her a comfort to you. I havegood ground to work upon, and I hope you will have reason to think, thatI have not neglected the soil. "

As Mr. Bruce was returning to his carriage, his daughter, who wasdescending the stairs with a clean frock, flew to him, exclaiming, "dosay you forgive me! I will never vex you again; O, dear papa, say youwill but forgive me. "

"Well, child, I do forgive you. "

"O, how good and kind you are! I will never forget it. But, dear papa, won't you say something more?"

"God bless you, child! and may he always bless you. "

Mr. Bruce hastened to the carriage, drew up the window, and the boydrove off. Tears streamed from Miss Bruce's eyes; "O, that papa wouldbut have given me one kiss, I should have been so happy!"

"If you are good, " said Mrs. Adair, "when next he sees you he will giveyou two. "

CHAPTER XIX. 

The time had arrived for Miss Damer to go into a private family as agoverness: all the young ladies were anxious to give her a proof ofremembrance, and these tokens of esteem had chiefly been the work ofleisure hours. 

As Miss Damer was collecting her painted boxes, velvet bags, and all herlittle presents together, she thought, "who can say that there is nokindness or friendship in the world? I have been in sorrow, perhaps fora good purpose; at least, it has shewn me the disinterested regard ofothers. "

While similar reflections were passing in her mind, Miss Arden hastilyentered the chamber, and stepping towards her, abruptly put into herhand a small parcel. "I have not a moment to speak to you, " sheexclaimed, with tears in her eyes, "I cannot for the world take a formalfarewell; so when you leave us do not notice me: God bless you, Damer!"and she hurried out of the room. 

Miss Damer looked at the parcel with a countenance of sorrow, and as sheopened it a note dropped upon the floor; she took it up, and read thepaper she held in her hand. 

 "Accept these notes, my dear Damer, they are all that I have been able to save from my scanty allowance; remit them to your father, whose troubles I know have grieved you, and when I can I will send you more. In fourteen months I shall be my own mistress. How joyfully do I anticipate the time! Then, my dear Damer, I shall have a home to offer you, and a purse to relieve every care, as far as wealth can go. Farewell, my kind friend; you and Mrs. Adair have all my affections in this world. 

 "ANN ARDEN. "

 * * * * *

As young people are always anxious to learn the destination of thecharacters in the book they have been perusing, --in closing this littlework, I will give you a short sketch of those I have attempted todelineate. And here let me observe, that the incidents are chieflydrawn from facts. 

The name of one of the principal characters was given, by the desire ofa young friend, two days before her death. 

Miss Russel has lost her parents, and is wandering upon the Continent, as companion or friend to a lady well known in the fashionable world. 

Miss Vincent is removed from her family by her marriage to a gentlemanof consequence in Ireland. She is still the same character, haughty andinsolent. 

Her sister Isabella, is improving in all the graces of mind and person;she is the general favourite of the school. 

Miss Bruce is becoming all that her father can desire. 

When Miss Damer went into the situation as a governess, it was with thehope of remaining some time, perhaps years. We can easily fix our plans, but we are strangers to the future; it is not for us to say by whatmeans they are to be frustrated. When Miss Damer had been two months agoverness, she was told by the gentleman's sister in whose family shewas placed, that several friends were to dine with them, and she beggedthat she would join their party. On that day she attracted the notice ofa gentleman who was one of the guests. When she entered thedrawing-room, and he heard her name announced, he turned quickly to lookat her; he beheld the same dark pensive eyes, the same noble features, and modest, dignified manner, which seventeen years before had struckhim in another. But it was not her personal appearance altogether thatinterested him: it was the character that had been given of her by Mrs. Adair; and the remembrance of his feelings, when his daughter in hertroubled sleep exclaimed, "O, my dear Miss Damer, do come to me! Papathen won't punish me, you are so like mamma!"

But I will not prolong this subject; I have only to add, that Miss Dameris the happy wife of Mr. Bruce; and that few persons are more attachedto each other than the mother and the daughter Mr. Bruce, though severalyears older than his wife, was exactly the person calculated to makeher happy, being a man of excellent character and good sense; givingpart of his time to the world, but considering home the chief place forhappiness. 

When Miss Arden came into possession of her fortune, she remained as aparlour boarder with Mrs. Adair, but the principal part of her time wasspent with Mrs. Bruce. A lingering disease, however, came on, and shecould not be happy separated from her friend: she therefore removed toher house. After experiencing the most affectionate attention from Mr. And Mrs. Bruce, she at length resigned her life, with hopes full ofimmortality. Mrs. Adair and her friend were with her in her lastmoments. She expressed her gratitude to them with all the energy ofhealth; and then, clasping a hand of each, died serenely, hoping to meetthem hereafter. To the father of her friend she left a very handsomeannuity for life. "I know, " she had stated in her will, "that I cannotoblige my friend in any other shape but by contributing to her father'scomfort, and oh, may he see the error of his ways, before it is toolate. "

Most of her school companions she had remembered; but particularly ayoung lady, whose parents had been unfortunate. After leaving tokens ofregard to every one to whom she had considered herself the leastindebted, she left the remainder of her fortune, to be equally dividedbetween Mrs. Adair, her daughter, and Miss Bruce. And here let me remindyoung ladies of fortune, that they are too apt to neglect theinstructress under whose care they have spent the early part of life. Surely, when young people have been years under one roof, gainingknowledge, and daily indebted for care and kindness, they should notdiscard from their thoughts one of their best friends; but how often isthis the case! The moment a young lady steps into a carriage, and drivesoff for the last time from the dwelling of her instructress, she seemsto forget that there had ever been such a person in existence. Perhaps, when her nuptial favours are preparing, and her hopes are bright, shemay exclaim in a careless tone, "O, we must not forget--" here shementions the lady to whom, next to her parents she is most indebted; andhere finishes her remembrance of school, and the friend of her youth: inbridal favours, or flimsy letters, all her gratitude is shewn. 

In giving a sketch of the young ladies, I must not forget Elizabeth, whois now the happy wife of Colonel Vincent's brother. It had been her lotto be doubtful of his regard several years. Her spirits had been elatedor depressed, as she had judged Mr. Vincent's feelings interestedtowards herself. Had not that language which poets describe betrayed hissentiments, she might justly have concluded that, of all personsliving, she would be the one to whom his affections would neverseriously incline; but no sooner did fortune second his wishes, and aliving was presented unto him, but his heart and hand were offered tothe object of his earliest regard under the happiest auspices; thereforeElizabeth exchanged the useful employment of a teacher, for themeritorious duties of a wife. 

When Mrs. Adair received the fortune due to her from her pupil's will, her friends concluded that she would resign the school. To theintreaties of her daughter on the subject she gave this reply:

"Why should I give up an employment which is a relief to my mind? In myearliest and brightest days, I never particularly relished the gaietiesof the world; with my friends, my chief happiness centred; theassociates of my youth are, to my fancy, as friends departed. The laterobjects of my care are likewise withdrawn from me; but though I havelost one dear to my heart by death, and another by marriage, still Ihave affections warm and tender towards youth. 

"There must be something to attach us to life, something to occupy time, and interest our regard. As worldly beings, with worldly thoughts, wemust have resources independent of those in a religious point of view. Itrust I have chosen the wiser part, in preferring an active to an idlelife. At home, in the midst of my children (for so they are in myesteem), I shall always have something to excite interest; and ifwatchful care, tenderness, and exertion, can reclaim the stubborn, oradd to the happiness of my pupils, I shall think that I have not livedin vain. When my course is finished upon earth, may you, my dearElizabeth, be enabled to say with truth to your daughters, 'Never was aninstructress more happy with her pupils, or pupils happier with aninstructress. '"

FINIS. 

 LONDON: PRINTED BY COX AND BAYLIS, GREAT QUEEN STREET. 

 Transcriber's Note:

 Archaic spelling of pourtrayed, viranda, Magna Charta, stupified, shewn and Auld have been retained as they appear in the original publication. Changes to the original have been made as follows:

 Page 5 froward inclinations forward inclinations

 Page 18 a look: but I assure a look; but I assure

 Page 20 I have so few "I have so few

 Page 34 for our diverson for our diversion

 Page 44 prefer 'the Spy detected. ' prefer 'the Spy detected. '"

 Page 54 I see few countenances "I see few countenances

 Page 63 and I hope I am "and I hope I am

 Page 71 inqured if Miss Damer inquired if Miss Damer

 Page 87 in particular cases. " in particular cases. 

 Page 93 I must think of my "I must think of my

 Page 101 into the play-ground. ' into the play-ground. "

 Page 102 her: "Now, my dear "e" in her inverted

 Page 109 who had been been ordered by who had been ordered by

 Page 105 her pupils. : but at her pupils; but at

 Page 139 Miss Bruce. It is in Miss Bruce. "It is in

 Page 166 into his preesnce into his presence

 Page 176 stangers to the future strangers to the future

 Page 176 to sayby what means they to say by what means they