ks of Coralie, and which Meta held to be a grand
emancipation. She persuaded old nurse to teach her to be useful, and
Margaret used to declare that she witnessed scenes as good as a play in
her room, where the little dexterous scholar, apparently in jest, but
really in sober, earnest, wiled instruction from the old woman; and made
her experiments, between smiles and blushes, and merrily glorying in
results that promised that she would be a notable housewife. Whether
it were novelty or not, she certainly had an aptitude and delight in
domestic details, such as Ethel never could attain; and, as Dr. May
said, the one performed by a little finger what the other laboured at
with a great mind.

In the schoolroom, Meta was as highly appreciated. She found an hour
for helping Blanche in her music, and for giving, what was still more
useful, an interest and spirit to studies, where, it must be owned, poor
good Mary had been a dead weight. She enlivened Miss Bracy so much, and
so often contrived a walk or a talk with her, that the saucy Blanche
told Hector that she thought Ethel would be quite second-fiddle with
Miss Bracy.

No such thing. Miss Bracy's great delight was in having a listener
for her enthusiasm about Miss Ethel. She had been lately having a
correspondence with a former school-fellow, who was governess in a
family less considerate than the Mays, and who poured out, in her
letters, feelings much like those with which Miss Bracy had begun.

Nothing could be more salutary than to find herself repeating all
Ethel's pieces of advice; and, one day, when her friend had been more
distressed than usual, she called Ethel herself, to consult on her
answer, owning how much she was reminded of herself.

"Indeed," she added, "I am afraid it would only tease you to hear how
much I am indebted to your decision and kindness--"

"Nay," said Ethel, laughing her awkward laugh. "You have often had to
forget my savage ways."

"Pray don't say that--"

"I think," said Ethel, breaking in, "the philosophy is this: I believe
that it is a trying life. I know teaching takes a great deal out of
one; and loneliness may cause tendencies to dwell on fancied slights in
trifles, that might otherwise be hurried over. But I think the thing
is, to pass them over, and make a conscience of turning one's mind to
something fresh--"

"As you made me do, when you brought me amusing books, and taught me
botany--"

"And, still more, when you took to