superlative degree; nose, the interrogative point.

‘Miss Bruce, an interjection, or an interrogative.’

“True,” said Miss Damer, “particularly where books are concerned.”

“Well, I do love books!” said Miss Bruce; “I do think I could read every one in Mr. Chiswell’s shop without being tired. Have you a new one to lend me, Miss Damer?”

“If you say all your lessons well, and are good this week, I will lend you a very amusing and instructive tale.”

“But what is the title?” asked Miss Bruce.

“It is one word, meaning a mark of folly in young ladies. But I must finish the grammatical exercise.”

‘Miss Rothman, a section sufficiently curved.’

“You should not have made this remark, Miss Grey. When you ridicule deformity you shew a want of feeling; and, what is of more consequence, you prove that you treat with contempt the works of your Creator. Miss Rothman’s talents, and amiable temper, we cannot too highly prize.”

‘Miss Russel, an index to point out disagreeables; make her an article, and she will prove a bad one of the definite order.’

‘The little Rhymer, a brace; and Miss Wise, a verb neuter.

‘Miss Damer, auxiliary verb, or substantive proper; first person singular, face—’ Miss Darner stopped a moment, and then went on with, ‘Miss Jane Adair,—temper, syntax; consisting of concord and government; speech, a preposition; voice, liquids; face, mind, and figure, in the superlative degree; as the verb to be loved, second person singular, indicative mood, present tense, to myself and others. The remainder, excepting Miss Arden, may be classed with mutes, crotchets, irregular verbs, quotations, and parallels.’

“I wish,” cried Isabella, “I could write exercises, or a theme, or something, I don’t care what.”

“And what is to prevent you, my dear?”

“Oh, nothing at all, Miss Damer, if I could but tell what to write.”

“Tell how the world was made,” said Miss Bruce, “that would be a very good subject.”

“I cannot do that, I am sure! I do not know what stars are made of, they twinkle so; nor what makes flowers look so pretty, and smell so sweet; nor where the wind comes from, or what it is: it touches me, but I cannot touch it.”

“You have never read ‘Evenings at Home,’” said Miss Bruce, “or you would know that ‘wind is but a quantity of air put into violent motion.’”

“But what is the air? Tell me this.”

“A clear thin fluid, certainly, and the earth is a vast ball; it would soon break its bounds, were it not attracted by the sun.”

“But who preserves it in its regular motion?” asked Miss Damer.

“Oh, Miss Damer,” exclaimed Miss Bruce, “all the stars, and the moon, and the trees, and all that we behold had but one to make them, and one to support them—the Great Almighty Maker, who gave me my voice to speak, my mind to think, and my eyes to look at the wonders of his works.”

“I wish I knew how I speak, and look, and think,” said Isabella.

“My dear little girl,” said Miss Damer, “very wise people are ignorant in many things. Learn to be good: it is the best knowledge.”

“I do say my prayers every night and morning, and I’m sure I love papa and mamma dearly, and I try to love every body.”

“This is one way certainly to be good, if you obey your parents as well as love them, and think of your prayers when you are repeating them.”

“I am sure, Miss Damer, I should love you, you are so good. I never could learn my lessons without you assisted me.”

“Because you are a dunce,” said Miss Bruce.

“We shall see who will be the best girl and the best scholar, ‘the bright and idle one,’ or my little friend, with ‘patience and perseverance.’”

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CHAPTER VI.

A carriage and four, as it is styled, stopping suddenly at the gate, caused a little bustle. Amongst Mrs. Adair’s pupils, some were ready to look, and others to exclaim, “who can they be?” “what a beautiful girl!” and “what a nice little boy! but I fear he is lame!” “Oh, look! do look at that queer old lady following them out of the carriage! How oddly her nose is turned! and what a droll bonnet!” “I wonder whether they will dine with us!” “I should like to know who they are.”

While these exclamations were uttered, Miss Vincent pursued other means of gaining intelligence of the new comers. She stole softly into the hall, and screened herself from observation, in a narrow passage leading to the store-room. The next moment she beheld a tall girl, an elderly lady, and a little boy ushered into the parlour. She listened to hear their names announced, but in vain. As she was returning to the school-room, the hall door was opened by Elizabeth. She hastily retreated into the passage: but betrayed herself by stumbling over a stand of plants, that had been placed there, till they could be conveniently removed.

Elizabeth, hearing the noise, quickly stepped towards the passage, and perceiving her pupil, said very coolly:

“Botanizing, my dear! I fear you require light upon the subject; if there is any rare, very curious plant, give it the name of ‘Caroline Vincent,’ unless you prefer ‘the Spy detected.’”

Mortified at the discovery, Miss Vincent hastened to the school-room, her face flushed with vexation; and as she rushed past Miss Damer, who was standing near the door, exclaimed, “go out of my way, can’t you?”

“Certainly! But what has alarmed you so?”

Jane now entered the room; and Miss Russel, who had been leaning through the window, hastily turned to Miss Vincent, and exclaimed, “I do believe, Caroline, there is a coronet upon the carriage! but I cannot make out either the strawberry leaves or the balls.” Jane mildly reproved her for leaning through the window, contrary to the rules of the school.

The moment she had quitted the room Miss Russel exclaimed, “These teachers give themselves strange airs!”

“You should speak with more respect of Mrs. Adair’s daughter, I think,” said Miss Damer; “excepting in fortune, Miss Jane Adair is superior to any person here.”

“But you will allow that she is a teacher, I hope.”

“And does it lessen her merit? If any particular class of females are worthy of respect, surely ladies who instruct young people are entitled to it; they are the guardians of morals and of manners. But in every school there are one or two ungrateful ones.”

“Hear the oracle!” cried Miss Vincent. “Another Daniel come to judgment!”

“Rude manners and loud words do not intimidate me,” said Miss Damer, with modest firmness. “I again repeat, that a person who can instruct us in any one branch of education is entitled to—”

“What?” asked Miss Vincent imperiously.

“Deference. More I cannot urge, to a young lady who has been at Madame La Blond’s. But I