don't want any dinner,' she said in the same hard

tone.

Nothing could have helped Miss Ponsonby better to carry out her orders than Leonora Clarke, who came in, and, hearing the discussion, went up to Elfrida, and, putting her arm round her, said, addressing Miss Ponsonby, 'Pray-please let her stay, Miss Ponsonby,-do, pray; we all want her to stay so awfully!'

Instantly Elfrida's better nature rebelled against the officiousness of her new friend. What business was it of hers to interfere? She shook her off, and, marching away, returned in a minute in her hat and waterproof, and said, 'I am ready, Aunt Dorothy.'

Then, scarcely bidding Mrs. Huntingdon goodbye, and resisting Leonora's efforts to kiss her, she strode away, rejecting Broome's offer of an umbrella, and heedless of the rain that poured down on her.

The sweet, sympathetic eyes of the new governess followed her till she was out of sight, and then, turning from the window, she saw Mr. Huntingdon had also been watching the departure of the aunts and niece, Miss Ponsonby plodding with heavy tread along the wet gravel, her large feet encased in goloshes, and her dress conveniently short; Miss Adelaide tripping with many halts and uncertainties under Reuben's care, who found it difficult to shelter his mistress, or be prepared to meet her devious footsteps by making an answering lunge with the

umbrella. The tall, lithe figure that led the way was soon out of sight, and Mr. Huntingdon said,—

'That was a tug of war between aunt and niece. Who would believe a girl with a voice like that could put on such a defiant expression?'

She gave way at last,' Mrs. Meredith said.

'Yes; but what a pleasant dinner those two ladies will have at the Cottage, with Elfrida scowling at them! Will you undertake her, Mrs. Meredith?'

'Gladly,' was the answer. 'She interests me so much already. I think I have never seen a face like hers; and every look and gesture is eloquent.'

The other children were now coming in, and Mrs. Meredith talked to them all till they went in to the dining-room together.

Leonora Clarke was as usual 'posing' to make an impression on Mrs. Meredith as a stranger, and on Mr. Berkley. She was a little puzzled by the grave eyes which she felt were looking at her as she jingled her bracelets, put her head on one side, and told Mr. Berkley that Elfrida's voice was 'divine.' 'Was she not like Queen Esther, or Joan D'Arc, or some grand heroic person in history?'

Mr. Berkley was so much amused with this little pretentious girl, that he encouraged her more than perhaps was either kind or right; and Leonora ended by making herself so outrageously silly, that Mrs. Huntingdon was constrained to say, in a tone that could hardly be mistaken,—

'Will you have another cup of coffee, Leonora ? You are talking so much, I am afraid you will not

have enough refreshment after your exertions in the charade.'

Mrs. Meredith thought, 'If I had been asked to undertake that poor child as a pupil, I might have hesitated, if not refused. A bad companion for these nice girls of Lily's, and I hope they do not see much of her.'

A

M

COGITATIONS.

RS. MEREDITH went as she was desired to the Cottage the next morning, and was received kindly, but in a business

like way.

Miss Ponsonby had always the gift of going straight to the point, and she began at once about the proposed plan for the education of her brother's only child, who had been committed to her. Miss Ponsonby frequently spoke of Elfrida by that title, -the statement bore on the face of it the fact that Elfrida, whatever her shortcomings and imperfections, was a Ponsonby!

'My brother died early in life,' she said; 'and as his widow married again, the child has been lost sight of by the family. Her education has probably been entirely neglected, and I think it will be an uphill road for you, Mrs. Meredith; the girl is very wild and undisciplined.'

'I saw her, as you know, last night,' Mrs.

Meredith said, 'and I thought her a very strikinglooking girl, with, I should think, plenty of spirit, but good principle.'

Miss Ponsonby gave a little dry cough. I hope you are right in the last estimate of the poor child's character. I daresay you have had more experience with children and young people than I have, and are prepared for difficulties.'

'O yes,' said Mrs. Meredith brightly; and for pleasure too. If I may venture to say so, I think your niece's musical talent should be cultivated; her singing is quite remarkable.'

'That is a secondary matter. I wish her to be a right-principled and well-mannered Christian gentlewoman, instead of a harum-scarum hoyden. If you can help to effect this, I shall be very grateful to you, Mrs. Meredith. I leave the hours and the arrangement of the lessons to you and Mrs. Huntingdon; and whatever rules you make I shall do my best to keep, or rather see that they are kept.'

As Miss Ponsonby was speaking, the sound of two quick springs was heard on the stairs, or rather from the stairs into the hall, and then the door opened as the doors in the Cottage had never been opened in the memory of man.

'Aunt Dorothy!' exclaimed Elfrida, 'it is shameful that people should pry about my things. don't like it, and I won't stand it!'

I

Mrs. Meredith, who had been sitting partly concealed by the curtain of the bay window, rose,