ts efficacy;
but it is a silent protest against the harsh speeches of Miss Eliza, who
had been specially jealous of the influence of the French teacher.

"I never liked her countenance, Adele," said the spinster, in her solemn
manner; "and I am rejoiced that you will not be under her influence the
present summer."

"And I'm sorry," said Adele, petulantly.

"It is gratifying to me," continued Miss Eliza, without notice of
Adele's interruption, "that Mr. Maverick has confirmed my own
impressions, and urged the Doctor against permitting so unwise
association."

"When? how?" said Adele, sharply. "Papa has never seen her."

"But he has seen other French women, Adele, and he fears their
influence."

Adele looked keenly at the spinster for a moment, as if to fathom the
depth of this reply, then burst into tears.

"Oh, why, why didn't he take me with him?" But this she says under
breath, and to herself, as she rushes into the Doctor's study to
question him.

"Is it true, New Papa, that papa thought badly of Madame Arles?"

"Not personally, my child, since he had never seen her. But, Adaly, your
father, though I fear he is far away from the true path, wishes you to
find it, my child. He has faith in the religion we teach so imperfectly;
he wishes you to be exposed to no influences that will forbid your full
acceptance of it."

"But Madame Arles never talked of religion to me"; and Adele taps
impatiently upon the floor.

"That may be true, Adaly,--it may be true; but we cannot be thrown into
habits of intimacy with those reared in iniquity without fear of
contracting stain. I could wish, my child, that you would so far subdue
your rebellious heart, and put on the complete armor of righteousness,
as to be able to resist all attacks."

"And it was for this papa left me here?" And Adele says it with a smile
of mockery that alarms the good Doctor.

"I trust, Adaly, that he had that hope."

The good man does not know what swift antagonism to his pleadings he has
suddenly kindled in her. The little foot taps more and more impatiently
as he goes on to set forth (as he had so often done) the heinousness of
her offences and the weight of her just condemnation. Yet the antagonism
did not incline her to open doubt; but after she had said her evening
prayer that night, (taught her by the parson,) she drew out her little
rosary and kissed reverently the crucifix. It is so much easier at this
juncture for her tried and distr