dare to say anything; and Sophy thinking her companions had had enough description for the present, said she would ask Miss Somers if they might go in the garden and play, which request being granted, out they went, and played till dinner-time, and then played again till the end of that day; but play was a dreary thing, when there was only one light heart amongst the three, and both Laura and Julia were most heartily glad when it was bed-time.

21

CHAPTER III.

THE FALSEHOOD.

WHEN Laura had been three weeks at school her excessive grief at being so far from her parents and her home began to abate; but then the poor little girl had many other troubles. She had never learnt of any one but her mother, and then only just at the times she liked, so that school discipline was most irksome to her. At first she tried to learn her lessons perfectly, and gave herself a great deal of trouble with them; but as the governess was used to having perfect lessons, she did not think it at all remarkable that Laura's should be so; and then Laura was disappointed, and thought governesses an unfeeling race, who did not appreciate other people's trouble, and so determined to be indifferent too. Laura was natu

rally indolent and a little disposed to sulkiness. Her indolence made her require the constant stimulus of praise to rouse her to exertion; and a kind of obstinate pride, which was the greatest defect in her character, made her resent, without complaining of, what she considered injustice. She felt her efforts to do well had not been appreciated, and after that, whatever was said to her, she did not care, but lived on through the day longing for bed-time. Day after day she was in disgrace for not knowing her lessons; and she, who before her mother's mild rebukes had been gentle and affectionate, now grew sullen as well as indifferent. Miss Henrietta reproved her for her conduct, but to no purpose; she no longer cared for any one but Julia Leslie, who was the partner of all her griefs. Sophy Thornton proved only a sunshine friend, and deserted the poor girl in her affliction. It was quite edifying too to see the look of reproach Sophy cast upon Laura whenever she was

reproved; as in public Sophy appeared in all things quite a pattern of goodness, and was of course a favourite with the governess. On one occasion, however, this virtuous look of Sophy's vexed Laura so much that she could not help speaking to her friend Julia on the subject.

"I cannot think how it is that Sophy manages to know her lessons so much better than we do," said she.

I suppose it is, because she is so much more clever," returned Julia, sighing.

Laura did not feel convinced of this, and in fact she was so certain that there was some mystery in the business, that she determined to ask Sophy about it. Accordingly, in the course of the day she and Julia went up to Sophia, and said, "Sophy how is it that you always know your lessons, and yet we never see you learning them?"

"Oh I manage very easily," said Sophy, "perhaps I'll tell you the secret some day."

"Oh do tell me now, Sophy; I would give anything to know," said Laura.

"Well! will you promise not to tell if I tell you?" said Sophy.

"Oh yes, most sincerely we promise," cried both Laura and Julia at once, though not very clearly understanding why such an invaluable secret as this appeared to be should not be made common.

"Well then," said Sophy laughing, "Jessie and I have always our books in our laps under the table, at classes."

Laura and Julia pressed each other's hands, and walked away disgusted. It was, however, a great mystery to Laura how these children, who were certainly doing what was wrong, were never found out; while she was punished every day. She puzzled it over and over in her head, and finding no solution of the mystery, her ideas of justice were becoming confused. Day after day passed on, and she knew her lessons none the better,