so carefully trained about the window, is still thine."

These, and many other instances of delicate attention from Mr. Lloyd, saved her from the feeling of forlornness that she might otherwise have suffered.

CHAPTER V.

"I am for other, than for dancing measures."

AS YOU LIKE IT.

A FEW months after Jane entered her aunt's family, an unusual commotion had been produced in the village of by an event of rare occurrence. This was no less than the arrival of a dancing-master, and the issuing of proposals for a dancing-school.

This was regarded by some very zealous persons as a ruse de guerre of the old Adversary, which, if not successfully opposed, would end in the establishment of his kingdom.

The plan of the disciple of Vestris, was to establish a chain of dancing-schools from one extremity of the county to the other; and this was looked upon as a mine which would be sprung to the certain destruction of every thing that was virtuous and of good report.' Some clergymen denounced the impending sin from their pulpits. One said that he had searched the Bible from Genesis to Revelation, and he could not find a text that expressly treated of that enormity, but that was manifestly because it was a sin too heinous to be spoken of in holy writ; he said that dancing was one

throwing her a bunch of carnations, "I have just come from the quarterly meeting, and I stopped as I came past your house, and picked these, for I thought their bright colours would be a temptation to the Quaker. And I thought too," said she, laughing, "there should be something to send up a sweet smelling savour from the altar where there are no deeds of mercy laid."

"Out of my yard instantly, you dirty beggar!" said Mrs. Wilson.

Bet turned, but not quickening her step, and went away, singing, "Glory, glory, hallelujah."

Aunt," said Jane, "do not mind the poor creature. She does not mean to offend you. I believe she feels for me; for she has been sheltered many a time from the cold and the storms in our house."

"Don't give yourself the least uneasiness, Miss. I am not to be disturbed by a crazy woman; but I do not see what occasion there is for her feeling for you. You have not yet answered me."

"I have no answer to make, Ma'am," replied Jane, meekly, "but that I shall do my best to content you. I am very young, and not much used to work, and I may have been too kindly dealt with; but that is all over now."

"Do you mean, Miss, to say, that I shan't treat you kindly?"

"No, aunt, but I meant

meant any thing wrong."

excuse me, if I

"I did expect, Miss, to hear some thankfulness expressed."

"I do, Ma'am, feel grateful, that I have a shelter over my head; what more I have to be grateful for, time must determine."

There was a dignity in Jane's manner, that, with the spirit of the reply, taught Mrs. Wilson, that she had, in her niece, a very different subject to deal with from her own wilful and trickish children. "Well, Miss Jane, I shall expect no haughty airs in my house, and you will please now to go and tell the girls to be ready to go with me to the afternoon conference, and prepare yourself to go also. One more thing I have to say to you, you must never look to me for any clothing; that cunning Mary has packed away enough to last you fifty years. With all her methodism, I will trust her to feather your nest, and her own too.”

Alas! thought Jane, as she went to execute her aunt's commission, what good does it do my poor aunt to go to conference? Perhaps this question would not have occurred to many girls of thirteen, but Jane had been accustomed to scan the motives of her conduct, and to watch for the fruit. The aid extended to our helpless orphan by her pharisaical aunt, reminds us of the "right of asylum" afforded, by the ancients to the offenders who were allowed to take shelter in the temples of their gods, and allowed to perish there.

She found the girls very much indisposed to the afternoon meeting. Martha said, she "would not go to hear Deacon Barton's everlasting prayers; she had heard so many of them, she knew them all by heart."

Elvira had just got possession, by stealth, of a new novel; that species of reading being absolutely prohibited in Mrs. Wilson's house, she had crept up to the garret, and was promising herself a long afternoon of stolen pleasure. “Oh, Jane," said she, "why can't you go down and tell Mo-. ther you can't find me. Just tell her, you guess I have gone down to Miss Bancker's, to inquire whether the tracts have come; that's a good thought; that will quiet her ;" and she was resuming her book, when seeing Jane did not move, she added, "I'll do as much for you any time."

"I shall never wish you to do as much for me, Elvira."

"I do not think it is so very much, just to go down stairs; besides, Jane," she added, imperiously, "Mother says, you must do whatever we ask you to."

Elvira was so habituated to deceit, that it never occurred to her, that the falsehood was the difficult part of the errand to Jane; and when Jane said, "Cousin Elvira, I will do whatever is reaonable for you, and no more; any thing that is true, I will tell your Mother for you;" she laughed in derision.

"Pooh, Jane, you have brought your deaconish nonsense to a poor market. It was easy enough to get along with the truth with your mother, because she would let you have your own way on all occasions; but I can tell you, disguises are the only wear in our camp !"