see she has to live here, and you had
better try to make the best of it."

"She hates mamma and she hates me," I cried, unreasonably.

"Now, my dear little lady," said Emma, "how can you possibly know that?
You are not reasonable or patient; try to make the best of it. It is of
no use for you to make an enemy of the new lady; if you do I am sure
you will suffer for it."

"Oh, Emma!" I cried, "why did she come; we were all so happy; we were
all three so happy--why did she come? I did not want any education, I am
sure."

"Pardon me, Miss Laura, but I think you do," said Emma, gravely.

"The only thing I want to live for at all is to be with mamma," I
said--"to take care of her and try to make her happy. I do not want any
other life than that."

"But," said my nurse, and I have often thought since what sense lay in
her words, "do you know, Miss Laura, that my lady, who is so clever
herself, will want an educated companion? For her sake you must learn
all you can."

Those words gave me quite a new light. Why, of course I must; my mother
was not only well educated, but she was also highly accomplished; she
spoke French and German and had a very fair knowledge of Italian,
whereas I had only just mastered the rudiments of English. New life, new
ideas, new ambitions suddenly awoke within me, and, seeing her
advantage, Emma pursued it.

"I have heard," she said, "that my lady is wonderfully clever. You will
be her companion and her constant comfort; you must know some of the
things she does. Now, Miss Laura, make up your mind, dear; instead of
making the lady your enemy, be quick and learn all she can teach
you--the sooner you know it all the sooner she will go."

Ah, that was something like a reason for studying; I would learn lessons
all day and all night to insure her going. It must be a matter of years,
but if by constant application I could shorten the time, even by one
year, that was much. Then Emma gave me much sensible advice; above all,
never to speak to mamma about Miss Reinhart.

"You see, Miss Laura, if your dear mamma took curious fancies against
this lady, how dreadful it would be. It would make her much worse, and
we do not know what might happen. Whatever occurs, bear it all patiently
or come to me."

"My life is spoiled," I cried; "but I will do what you say."

And I made to myself a vow, which I kept through all temptation, never
once to complain to my mother about Miss Reinhart. I did keep it, a