and she knew that it was cowardly to turn back from the battle of life, as she had vainly wished to do, to seek the haven for which she was not yet prepared. These were her happiest moments. Her afternoons were undisturbed, while the Barlow family drove out in the green coach to pay formal visits or to take a formal airing; she always declined to accompany them, and her exercise was deferred until the growing dusk obliged her to lay aside palette and brush. Then she went out into the walled garden which formed part of Mr. Barlow's domain, and paced up and down in the chill and sober twilight of a winter afternoon until Mrs. Barlow's motherly anxiety was roused to send out a liveried servant, respectfully to suggest that it was growing dark, and she had better come in.

"She is a very remarkable young woman," observed the master of the house, as Miriam came in from one of these late walks, and was exhorted by Mrs. Barlow to go up at once to change her dress, since she could see that her crape trimmings were quite limp with the damp. "Though she is not so dressy as many of your other school-fellows, Emma, I think she is more of a lady. There is something about her which no one could mistake." Here he was checked by an uneasy recollection of the day when he was mistaken for his own butler by a guest who happened to arrive at the moment he was crossing his hall, and felt disinclined to pursue the subject.

But his wife, disturbed by no such reminiscence,

eagerly assented. "Yes, indeed, Mr. Barlow. Any one can see she is a lady, though she draws like an artist, and the folds of her silk dress are sadly worn, which is very much against her."

"Her drawing, or her dress, do you mean, Mamma?" said Emma, with one of those rare and sudden sallies of wit by which no one was more surprised than herself, and which were always dutifully applauded by father and mother.

"She is very unlike other young women," repeated Mr. Barlow impressively. "I think she has improved you very much, Emma."

"So do I, Papa," replied the young lady naïvely: "I am not half so stupid as I used to be; and though it is rather hard work sometimes, on the whole I like it better."

"I am only afraid of her over-working your brain," said Mrs. Barlow.

"My brain is pretty solid, Mamma, and it does not get into such a whirl as it used to do at school. I wish that I might have Miriam to teach me always, instead of going back to Miss Smith's."

"So you might, my dear; I had just arrived at that conclusion," said Mr. Barlow, whose increasing importance of manner had already prepared his wife and daughter for some such weighty decision.

"Oh, Papa!" exclaimed Emma with a very bright face, "I should like it so much! Only I am afraid Mi

riam would not agree, for I know she wishes to remain at Miss Smith's for another year, to improve herself with masters."

"You might have the best masters at home."

"Then we must give Miss Leigh a good salary, which would considerably increase the expense," said Mrs. Barlow.

Her husband waved his hand with a gesture which was always unanswerable. "My dear, I have often told you that where Emma's education is concerned, expense is no object to me.”

CHAPTER XXI.

I know him; and sometimes I think, if we knew others in the same manner, the better we should find them. For it may be that an action displeases us, which would please us if we knew its whole aim and extent. MADAME KLOPSTOCK.

"AND such a letter too!" said Uncle Ralph. He had come to town, according to custom, to spend Christmas week in Charles-street, and he was now sitting in conference with Mrs. Mordaunt.

"Yes, the mercantile style and the feminine hand go so oddly together, as if it were composed by Mr. Barlow, and copied by his wife;" a chance shot, nearer the truth than Mrs. Mordaunt imagined.

"It seems hard," continued Mr. Cornwall in an aggrieved tone, "to lay hands on another man's niece, and make a governess of her whether he will or no. Though, by the way, she is not to be a governess, only 'associated with our dear Emma in her studies, a valued friend and companion.""

"At all events you have the power of saying no."

"Have I?" said Uncle Ralph, shrugging his shoulders. "Not if Miriam's mind is made up, as I gather from her note. I said no to her once under compulsion, in Leonard's affair, and I never mean to try it again."

"I do believe that interference in that matter was a mistake," rejoined Mrs. Mordaunt. "It has set Miriam against you and us all, and completely estranged Leo. I believe he is passing this vacation in town, and yet he has never been near us."

"I suppose it would not do to try and bring them together again?" said Uncle Ralph doubtfully, and Mrs. Mordaunt was not a little startled by the suggestion.

"Oh no; John would not hear of such a thing. And after all, though disappointment makes them unamiable towards their relations, it has done no essential harm. Miriam did well at school, and is doing equally well with these Barlows. I have heard of them before as enormously rich, and living in great style."

"As is proved by the offer of a salary of £100 a year, and all the best London masters. It reads like a bribe."

"Since you are mistrustful," said Mrs. Mordaunt, laughing, "suppose you drive down to Clapham, and judge for yourself."

"I could not go alone," said Uncle Ralph helplessly; "I should be talked over in five minutes."

66 I cannot go with you. I do not know Mrs. Barlow, and am not ambitious to make her acquaintance.”

"Susan said she would not mind going with me," said Mr. Cornwall with a certain guilty consciousness which aroused Mrs. Mordaunt's attention.

"Did Susan propose going?" she asked quickly.