me! how much I fear lest pride it be;
But if that pride it be which thus inspires,
Beware, ye dames! with nice discernment see
Ye quench not too the sparks of nobler fires."

SHENSTONE.

By repeated observation, and by attending to the minute reports of Sister
Frances, Madame de Fleury soon became acquainted with the habits and
temper of each individual in this little society. The most intelligent
and the most amiable of these children was Victoire. Whence her
superiority arose, whether her abilities were naturally more vivacious
than those of her companions, or whether they had been more early
developed by accidental excitation, we cannot pretend to determine, lest
we should involve ourselves in the intricate question respecting natural
genius--a metaphysical point, which we shall not in this place stop to
discuss. Till the world has an accurate philosophical dictionary (a work
not to be expected in less than half a dozen centuries), this question
will never be decided to general satisfaction. In the meantime we may
proceed with our story.

Deep was the impression made on Victoire's heart by the kindness that
Madame de Fleury showed her at the time her arm was broken; and her
gratitude was expressed with all the enthusiastic fondness of childhood.
Whenever she spoke or heard of Madame de Fleury her countenance became
interested and animated in a degree that would have astonished a cool
English spectator. Every morning her first question to Sister Frances
was: "Will _she_ come to-day?" If Madame de Fleury was expected, the
hours and the minutes were counted, and the sand in the hour-glass that
stood on the schoolroom table was frequently shaken. The moment she
appeared Victoire ran to her, and was silent; satisfied with standing
close beside her, holding her gown when unperceived, and watching, as she
spoke and moved, every turn of her countenance. Delighted by these marks
of sensibility, Sister Frances would have praised the child, but was
warned by Madame de Fleury to refrain from injudicious eulogiums, lest
she should teach her affectation.

"If I must not praise, you will permit me at least to love her," said
Sister Frances.

Her affection for Victoire was increased by compassion: during two months
the poor child's arm hung in a sling, so that she could not venture to
play with her companions. At their hours of recreation she used to sit
on the schoolroom steps, looking down into the garde