ecluded,
it might have been a spot in some pastoral English province; a bank of
short and mossy grass, under a hawthorn, offered a seat too tempting
to be declined; we took it, and when we had admired and examined some
English-looking wild-flowers growing at our feet, I recalled Frances'
attention and my own to the topic touched on at breakfast.

"What was her plan?" A natural one--the next step to be mounted by
us, or, at least, by her, if she wanted to rise in her profession. She
proposed to begin a school. We already had the means for commencing on
a careful scale, having lived greatly within our income. We possessed,
too, by this time, an extensive and eligible connection, in the sense
advantageous to our business; for, though our circle of visiting
acquaintance continued as limited as ever, we were now widely known in
schools and families as teachers. When Frances had developed her plan,
she intimated, in some closing sentences, her hopes for the future. If
we only had good health and tolerable success, me might, she was sure,
in time realize an independency; and that, perhaps, before we were too
old to enjoy it; then both she and I would rest; and what was to hinder
us from going to live in England? England was still her Promised Land.

I put no obstacle in her way; raised no objection; I knew she was
not one who could live quiescent and inactive, or even comparatively
inactive. Duties she must have to fulfil, and important duties; work to
do--and exciting, absorbing, profitable work; strong faculties stirred
in her frame, and they demanded full nourishment, free exercise: mine
was not the hand ever to starve or cramp them; no, I delighted in
offering them sustenance, and in clearing them wider space for action.

"You have conceived a plan, Frances," said I, "and a good plan; execute
it; you have my free consent, and wherever and whenever my assistance is
wanted, ask and you shall have."

Frances' eyes thanked me almost with tears; just a sparkle or two, soon
brushed away; she possessed herself of my hand too, and held it for
some time very close clasped in both her own, but she said no more than
"Thank you, monsieur."

We passed a divine day, and came home late, lighted by a full summer
moon.

Ten years rushed now upon me with dusty, vibrating, unresting wings;
years of bustle, action, unslacked endeavour; years in which I and
my wife, having launched ourselves in the full career of progress, as
progress w