s an argument
which I could neither gainsay nor resist, and coming as it did from the
lips of my dying mother, I was much affected by it. Before leaving my
mother's room, I solemnly promised her that I would never again
participate in the amusement of dancing, and that promise I have most
sacredly kept. I now often wonder that I could ever have been so fond of
an amusement which at the best affords so little real enjoyment to its
votaries. I trust you will pardon the liberty which I have taken in
talking so long of myself to you, an entire stranger; but when you
enquired my reason for not joining in the dance, something in your
countenance impelled me to be thus candid in my answer."

We remained for some time longer in conversation, and I really began to
enjoy the party. There were several ladies and gentlemen seated near us,
engaged also in conversation, and I could not avoid hearing much that
passed among them. Presently I heard a lady enquire of a Mrs. Kingsley,
a lady to whom I had been introduced in the early part of the evening,--

"Who is that young lady with whom Mr. Shirley has been so long
conversing?"

"Oh!" she replied, "she is _only_ the governess in Mrs. Leighton's
family. A _person_, as I am informed, of good education, but very poor,
and obliged to teach as a means of support for herself and mother, who
is a widow."

Why should I have felt so indignant at those words, which, if
maliciously intended, were certainly true? I suppose the attentions I
was receiving at this my first party were causing me to forget my true
position. The lady who had first spoken remarked further to Mrs.
Kingsley,--

"Don't you think her very pretty--almost beautiful? I think I never
before saw so intelligent a countenance."

Mrs. Kingsley replied,--

"I see nothing so very intelligent in her countenance, and if you
consider her pretty, I must say that I am astonished at your taste;
indeed I think her quite common-looking. I almost wonder that the
Leightons should have made her a guest at a party with their friends;
but then Miss Laura is kind-hearted, and I presume invited her out of
pity--those _poor people_ have so few pleasures."

"Hush! She may hear you."

And they changed the subject. I had, however, heard quite enough to
spoil my enjoyment for the rest of the evening. I was young and
inexperienced then, and this was my first, though by no means my last,
lesson in those distinctions which the world draws betwe