som swelling with
conflicting feelings. The slight had been to her _father_--to her dear
dead father--she could not love Miss Webster, nor respect her--she could
not oblige her. She felt so now, however, and despised the meanness of
the lodging-house keeper, in making the request.

Edith was by her side in good spirits, though she was to miss the London
journey. Not every young lady would be so content to remain all the
holiday-time with the governess; but Edith loved her governess. Happy
governess, to be loved by her pupil!

Mrs. Parker received Emilie very kindly: she was satisfied that her
dear child would be happy in her absence, and she knew enough of Emilie,
she said, to believe that she would see that Mr. Parker had his meals
regularly and nicely served, and that the servants did not rob or run
away, or the boys put their dirty feet on the sofa, or bright fender
tops, or lead Edith into mischief; in short, the things that Emilie was
to see to were so numerous, that it would have required more eyes than
she possessed, and far more vigilance and experience than she lay claim
to, to fulfill all Mrs. Parker's desires.

Amidst all the talking and novelty of her new situation, however, Emilie
was absent and thoughtful; she was dispirited, and yet she was not
subject to low spirits either. There was a cause. She had a tender
conscience--a conscience with which she was in the habit of conversing,
and conscience kept whispering to her the words--"What things soever ye
would that men should do unto you, do ye also to them." In vain she
tried to silence this monitor, and at last she asked to withdraw for a
few minutes, and scribbled a hasty note to Miss Webster; the first she
wrote was as follows:--

"Dear Miss W.--I enclose the key of the pianoforte. I should have
acceded to your request, only I remembered standing on that very spot,
by that very counter, a year ago, petitioning hard for the loan of a
sofa for my dying father, who, in his feverish and restless state,
longed to leave the bed for awhile. I remembered that, and I could not
feel as if I could oblige you; but I have thought better of it, and beg
you will use the piano."

"Yours truly,

"EMILIE SCHOMBERG."

She read the note before folding it, however; and somehow it did not
satisfy her. She crumpled it up, took a turn or two in the room, and
then wrote the following:--

"Dear Miss Webster--I am sorry that I for a moment hesitated to lend you
my piano