was to go to Agnes at Richmond, and there would hardly be time to put in the new pieces. However, Agnes's mother went out directly, and soon returned with the material. 66 Mother," said Ronald, "what is barège a-yard ?" "About 1s. 10d. or 2s., my boy; why do you ask?" "And how many yards have you bought just now ?" "Two and a-half," replied his mother: "those flounces are deep and full." Poor little Jessie crept close to her mother, her eyes full of tears. "Ah! mamma," said she, "my carelessness has cost you five of the shillings you work so hard for; and now I am afraid you will not have finished it in time. May not I help you ?" Yes, my dear, by reading your 'History' attentively to yourself, and so allowing me to finish my work uninterruptedly." Jessie obeyed; but there was more than this intention in her little mind. About five weeks VOL. I. E afterwards, she slid 5s. into her mother's hand, and with many tears entreated her to take itan entreaty in which Dora joined. These two little girls had darned house-linen for a neighbour of theirs, two hours every morning in their bedroom, as soon as it was light; and having been paid at the rate of 2d. or 3d. a-day, had accomplished their object. But this is forestalling my present object is to observe that the dress was finished, but not in time to go with the rest of the melancholy supply; whereupon Ronald and Marion were allowed to go to Richmond and take it to Agnes the next day. And we here take leave of Agnes's family for a little while. CHAPTER IV. "Oh, not in cruelty, not in wrath, The reaper came that day, 'Twas an angel visited the green earth, And took the flowers away." LONGFELLOW. "Et moi, jeune convive, au festin de la vie IT is time to see what retreat the fair Avice has found. When Lady Sylverton went to Dale, Avice returned home to Eaton Square; while there, she resumed her daily life, she made breakfast, amused her parents, she wrote to her brothers at Eton and Harrow ; she visited several poor people as a District Visitor, she dined out, and attended the few concerts and breakfasts still sprinkling the end of the season. She also made acquaintance with her sister's new governess, Mademoiselle Eurilia, a Sicilian, under whom Fanny and Amy were to become learned in Mediterranean learning and languages (and if that basin be indeed the nucleus of original civilization, as maintained by the great cosmopolite philosopher, this were no mean aim). Avice delighted in her acute ness, if not research; she admired her versatility of mind, and the variety of her topics for conversation, but she a little mistrusted her principles. There was a want of repose and ballast about her observations of men and things, and a glitter in her eye, that seemed to hint at her having known passions more stirring, than the love of literature, or even science, and having passed through scenes more exciting than Fanny's and Amy's school-room could afford. Once, indeed, she surprised her in tears, through which her eyes flashed fire; and upon Avice's expressing her sympathy, she at first refused to explain; and then burst suddenly into a very tornado of invective against her destiny, far more like the exclamations of a heathen, than of a christian, though of course no actual imprecations escaped her lips. Avice, though she could not repeat anything thus discovered, resolved upon telling her mother how little such a mind as Mademoiselle Eurilia's seemed to her fitted to form and cultivate those of children. But when she seized her opportunity to deliver her conscience from this burden, her mother heard her but listlessly. She had been well assured of her principles and character, she said, from the recommendations she brought, and from the opinion of Mrs. Linchoyd, with whose nieces she had been about three weeks, and left them only because they were going to Paris, where she had no wish to go, she said; in short, the fair Lady Keffsdale had been completely dazzled by the brilliancy of her |