realize that the orphan girl was half so bad as she was described to be by her aunt.

Edward Grant, while in the employ of the broker, had often visited Woodville, and being especially pleased with the person and the manners of Miss Fanny, had named his own daughter after her. On the arrival of the orphan at her new home, it was deemed fitting that Miss Fanny should have the especial care of her namesake, then only ten years of age. Fanny Jane, amid the novelties of the great house, and the beautiful grounds, was so much occupied for a few weeks that she behaved very well; but when she grew weary of horses and boats, house and grounds, she astonished her young mistress by conduct so outrageous that Miss Fanny wept in despair over the miserable failure she made in governing her charge.

Miss Bertha was called in to assist in taming the refractory subject; but it was soon found that Fanny Jane had none of the chivalrous reverence which had rendered the wild Noddy Newman tolerably tractable, and her failure was as complete and ignominious as that of her sister. Mr. Grant was finally appealed to; and the sternness and severity to which he was compelled to resort were, for a time, effectual. But even these measures began to be impotent, and the broker realized that the uncle and aunt had understood the case better than himself.

As a last resort, he threatened to send the wayward girl back to her uncle, who had now removed to Minnesota; for it would be better for such a child to put her down to hard work, and to keep her constantly under the eye of her guardians. This threat was more efficient than all the other means which had been used to keep the child within the bounds of common decency; but even this had grown stale upon her.

Miss Fanny, finding that her failure involved no disgrace, renewed her exertions to reform her pupil and charge. With the utmost diligence she instructed her in her moral and religious duties, and endeavored by love and gentleness to win her from the error of her ways. Sometimes she felt that there was much to encourage her, at other times she despaired of ever making any impression upon her pupil. Her father induced her to persevere, for he had hope. He remembered what Edward Grant, her father, had been when a child; that he was accounted the worst and most hopeless boy in the town where he resided; but in spite of this unpromising beginning, he had become a very worthy and respectable man. Such a change might in due time come over the daughter, and Mr. Grant frequently impressed upon Fanny the necessity of perseverance, and of remitting no effort to reach her pupil's moral and spiritual nature.

If Miss Fanny did not improve her pupil, she did improve herself, for the more of love and truth we impart to others, the more we have for ourselves; making the very pretty moral paradox, that the more of love and truth we subtract from our store, the more we have left in our own heart.

Fanny Jane was undoubtedly a very naughty girl. We do not mean to say that she was merely rude and unlady-like in her manners; that she was occasionally angry without a just cause; that she had a few bad habits, and a few venial faults: she was impudent to her benefactors; she was untruthful, and even dishonest. Not only to Fanny and Bertha, but also to Mr. Grant, she was openly defiant. She used bad language, told falsehoods by wholesale, and had several times been detected in stealing valuable articles from the house.

Yet with all her faults and failings, there were some good traits in Fanny Jane, though they seemed like the two grains of wheat in the bushel of chaff. What these redeeming features of her character were, we shall let our story disclose. One meeting the wayward girl on the lawn for a moment, or spending a few hours in the house with her, would have been deceived, as Mr. Grant had been, for her black eyes were full of animation; her manner was spirited, and her answers were quick and sharp. She was light and rather graceful in form; she did not appear to walk; she flashed about like a meteor. She was bold and daring in her flights, and as strong as most boys of her years. She would not run away from a rude boy; she laughed in the thunder storm, and did not fear to go through the glen at midnight.

Bertha and Fanny had gone up to Hudson to spend a few days with the family of Mr. Sherwood's father, previous to their departure for Europe. This visit had been talked about for a fortnight, and the wayward girl knew that it was to take place. Contrary to her usual custom, she made the fairest of promises to her kind mistress, who, from this very readiness, suspected her sincerity; and her fears were more than realized.

Fanny Jane stood at the open door gazing at the carriage until it disappeared beyond the hill. Her black eyes snapped under the stimulus of certain exciting thoughts which agitated her mind. When the carriage could no longer be seen, she slammed the front door, and bounded like a gazelle across the entry to the library of Mr. Grant, which she entered, closing the door behind her.

"O, yes! I'll be good!" laughed she; "I'm always good! Send me to my uncle's? I should like to see them do it! I won't go! There are not men and women enough at Woodville to make me go!"

Then she bounded to the windows in the library, one after another, and looked out at each. She closed the inner blinds of one, before which the gardener was at work on the lawn.

"I can do as Miss Berty did, if worse comes to worst," said she, throwing herself into a great armchair. "She went to live out, and had her own way, and I can do the same; but I won't be as poor as she was. Ha, ha, ha! I know their secrets," she continued, as she crawled under the desk, in the middle of the room, and pushing the middle drawer out, took from a nail behind it a key. "They needn't think to cheat me."

She sprang to her feet again with the key in her hand, laughing with delight at her own cunning.

CHAPTER II.

THOU SHALT NOT STEAL.

Fanny—as we shall call her when she is not in the company of her namesake—revelled in the possession of the key, and congratulated herself on her own shrewdness in obtaining it. She applied it to one of the drawers of the desk. Though her devoted young mistress had been faithful to the last degree in her efforts to instil good principles in the mind of her pupil, Fanny appeared to have no scruples of conscience. She did not hesitate, did not pause to consider the wickedness of her acts.

The drawer was unlocked and opened with an eager rather than a trembling hand. She seemed to fear nothing, and to be intent only on obtaining possession of some coveted treasure. As she pulled out the drawer, she was startled by a very unexpected incident. A great black cat, suddenly released from imprisonment, sprang out of the drawer, and, terrified by the appearance of the naughty girl, ran around the room several times, and then disappeared through an open window. The cat was a stranger to her; it was not a Woodville cat; and, though Fanny was not frightened, the presence of the animal in the drawer was suggestive.

"I am not so sharp as I thought I was," said she to herself, quite soberly. "The housekeeper must have seen me when I was looking for that key; but she needn't think I am afraid of a cat!"

Fanny sneered at the thought, and after glancing at the window through which the cat had made her escape, she turned to the drawer again, but it was empty; or it contained only a great card, such as those used in the Sunday school, on which was painted, in large black letters,

THOU SHALT NOT STEAL!

This card, which must have been placed there for her especial benefit by some member of the family, rendered it certain that her intentions were suspected, if not known.

"That's a gentle hint not to take anything from that drawer," said Fanny to herself. "There is nothing there, and of course I must take the hint; but they can't cheat me. There is