to familiarity and freedom! Miss Sinclair rarely received any notice from her ladyship, except when she had friends. She was then required to appear in the drawing-room with her pupils, and Lady Fitzwilliam could then approach her with one of her blandest smiles, and request her to play the piano, remarking, at the same time, that Miss Sinclair was a beautiful performer, a first-rate pianiste.

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Well," said Lady Fitzwilliam, to her two little girls, as they drove out of the lodge gates, "have you nothing to say on the present occasion, that you sit looking at each other as if you were frightened to death? you grow more and more gauche every day," continued her Ladyship, as she cast an angry glance at poor Anne, who did, in very truth, look the picture of terror at being obliged, for any time, to sit opposite her-to her, most alarming mother. She coloured deeply, but did not dare reply. Miss Sinclair felt even at a loss how to come to her pupil's relief; but Marion's ready intelligence and affectionate alertness to assist her sister, whenever her aid might be required, adroitly exclaimed, as she at this moment espied her brother on his pretty pony, at no great distance from them, "Here comes Edward!" and in another moment he had put his pony to an easy canter, and was at the carriage side.

Edward was (as we have before observed) his mother's idol; and now the sight of her noblelooking, handsome boy, flushed with his ride, his

pretty brown hair parted carelessly off one side of his high and open forehead, and his countenance so full of life and health, in a moment restored her before disturbed countenance to its usual smiling composure.

"Where are you going, mamma?" said her son as they mutually halted.

"To meet and bring home little Edith, at Charlton, my dear boy," returned his mother; "but how warm you are, Edward," continued Lady Fitzwilliam; "I fear you have over-heated yourself, riding too fast ;" and she looked anxiously at him.

"Will you tell me the hour, mamma? I was detained at Summerfield with Hugh and Arthur Vivian, and I am, I know, late. Mr. Stewart will be quite angry, I fear; but I have cantered almost all the way, haven't we, Beedah?" said Edward to his pony, as he patted the beautiful little animal on which he rode.

"It is now a quarter to four o'clock, my dear fellow," returned Lady Fitzwilliam, in answer to her son's question; "but I wish, Edward, you would not heat yourself by riding so fast."

"Well, I must be off now; but, mamma, I want you to ask the Vivians, Hugh and Arthur, to come and stay a few days with me. I must launch my boat papa gave me before Hugh goes to Sandhurst, and we should have such fun on the lake."

"I must speak to Mr. Stewart about it; but you

know I am always sadly afraid of the water. Good bye, my love," said Lady Fitzwilliam; and she made a sign to her coachman to proceed.

"Louisa desired her love to you two," said Edward, nodding to his sisters as he rode off.

The carriage now moved on; and, after one or two remarks to Miss Sinclair, on the dangers of the water in any shape, in her idea, her ladyship took a book from her side, and continued reading until they reached the station. They had not long to wait; the train had arrived, and nurse and Edith were anxiously looking out for Lady Fitzwilliam.

"How do you do, Edith?" said her aunt, as the little girl entered the carriage. "I must ask you, really, to walk home, Miss Sinclair, with one of the children, and give my niece and her nurse place. I cannot bear to be crowded. Anne may very well accompany you, I think," said Lady Fitzwilliam, addressing her governess, who, with much readiness, assented, and, with her eldest pupil, descended from the carriage.

Marion endeavoured, to the best of her powers, to divert and amuse her young cousin as they drove home; and, by the time they reached the Abbey, they promised to be great friends.

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CHAPTER V.

"One there is that doth inherit
Angel gifts and Angel spirit,
Bidding streams of gladness flow

Through the realms of want and woe;

Mid lone age and misery's lot,

Kindling pleasures long forgot,

Seeking minds oppress'd with night."

It was about a fortnight after the occurrences of the last chapter, that Louisa Vivian sat at the window, busily finishing an article of poor clothing, which, when completed she was to take herself to a poor pensioner of her mother's, when, to her great distress, she perceived the carriage from the Abbey approaching the house.

"Oh! my dear mamma," she exclaimed, "here is Lady Fitzwilliam coming to see you; now you will be detained, and we shall not go to old Margaret to-day; nor to ; nor to poor Widow Graham; and you see," she continued, holding up the work which was, indeed, almost completed, "it will be so provoking, as I have just done my task!"

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But, my love," replied Mrs. Vivian (who was busily employed cutting out various little objects of wearing apparel for her usual charitable purposes), "I do not at all see why Lady Fitzwilliam's

coming to pay me a visit should interfere with our projected visit to old Margaret and Widow Graham; it depends entirely on yourself; if the frock is finished on my return to you, I shall be quite ready to set out."

Here the servant entered to announce to his mistress that Lady Fitzwilliam was in the drawing

room.

"Should you want anything further to employ yourself," said Mrs. Vivian to her little girl, as she prepared to leave her, "you can practise your music, or get ready some lesson for to-inorrow."

It

Mrs. Vivian had had the misfortune to lose her husband three years previous to the commencement of our story. He had been in the church, zealously devoted to his Divine Master's cause and glory, an ornament to his profession, adored by his parishioners; for his ministry was the preaching of the gospel with all its simplicity and fulness. was with feelings of the deepest anguish, that, for many months, Mrs. Vivian perceived her husband's efforts for his people were far beyond his strength; that his health was evidently and rapidly, too, giving way. She urged in vain the necessity of having an additional curate, or withdrawing for awhile from these arduous duties; and, by traveling, recruit his impaired strength and health.

But Mr. Vivian had peculiar views of his own on this point. His parish was a large one, and though he had one curate, he worked hard himself, entering