nd the silence was more
full of hope and promise than any words of either could have been. I
waited upon him after that, and he seemed to like to have me about him,
and when he got better he told me that he wished me to return to school
and to make the best use of my opportunities while I had them. He told
me that he had decided to make me an allowance for dress, and that he
hoped that I should so use it as to give him proof before he died that
I could be trusted to deal wisely with all that he might have to leave."

Estella remained at school until I left, and the last time I saw her
there she was wearing the red coral set which had estranged her from her
grandfather as a token of reconciliation; and she told me that the old
man's hands trembled in giving them to her, even more than hers did in
giving them up, as he said to her with tears in his eyes and voice:--

"All that I have is thine."

III.--MAURA: THE MUNIFICENT.

I.

WASTE NOT, WANT NOT.

Maura was the most popular girl in the school. She would have been
envied if she had not been so much loved. The reason was that she was
amiable as well as pretty, she had plenty of pocket-money, and was
generous to a fault. If a girl had lost, or mislaid, her gloves, Maura
would instantly say, "Oh, don't make a fuss, go to my glove-box and take
a pair." Or if a pupil's stock of pin-money ran out before the end of
the quarter, she would slip a few shillings into her hand, merrily
whispering:

"For every evil under the sun,
There's either a remedy, or there's none;
_I've_ found one."

Maura was heiress of Whichello-Towers, in the north, with the broad
lands appertaining. She was an orphan, her nearest relative being her
uncle, a banker, who was her guardian, and somewhat anxious about his
charge. So anxious indeed that he sometimes curtailed her allowance, in
order to teach her prudence.

"Maura, my dear, waste is wicked even in the wealthy; you need wisdom as
well as wealth," said Miss Melford to her one day. And indeed she did,
for sometimes the articles she bought for others were singularly
extravagant and inappropriate.

When Selina, the rosy-cheeked cook, was married from the school, the
teachers and pupils naturally gave her wedding presents. My gift took
the form of a teapot, Margot's of a dozen of fine linen handkerchiefs,
and the others (with the exception of Maura) of things useful to a
country gardener's wife.

Maura bought