ho carried the pony back for Edith's use. Dr.
Harlowe, who resided near the academy, said I was always to dine at his
house, and walk home in the evening. They must not make too much of a
fine lady of me. I must exercise, if I would gather the roses of health.
Surely no young girl could begin the ordeal of duty under kinder, more
favoring auspices.

After the first dreaded morning when Mr. Regulus, tall, stately, and
imposing, ushered me into the apartment where I was to preside with
delegated authority, led me up a low flight of steps and waved his hand
towards a high magisterial arm-chair which was to be my future throne, I
felt a degree of self-confidence that surprised and encouraged me. Every
thing was so novel, so fresh, it imparted an elasticity to my spirits I
had not felt in Mrs. Linwood's luxurious home. Then there was something
self-sustaining, inspiring in the consciousness of intellectual exertion
and moral courage, in the thought that I was doing some little good in
the world, that I was securing the approbation of Mrs. Linwood and of
the excellent Dr. Harlowe. The children, who had most of them been my
fellow pupils, looked upon Gabriella Lynn, the protegee of the rich Mrs.
Linwood, as a different being from Gabriella Lynn of the little gray
cottage in the woods. I have no doubt they thought it very grand to ride
on that beautiful pony, with its saddle-cloth of blue and silver, and
glittering martingale, escorted by a servant too! Had they been disposed
to rebel at my authority, they would not have dared to do so, for Mr.
Regulus, jealous for my new dignity, watched over it with an eagle eye.

Where were the chains, whose prophetic clanking had chilled my misgiving
heart? They were transformed to flowery garlands, of daily renewing
fragrance and bloom. My desk was literally covered with blossoms while
their season lasted, and little fairy fingers were always twining with
wreaths the dark hair they loved to arrange according to their own
juvenile fancies.

My noon hours at Dr. Harlowe's, were pleasant episodes in my daily life.
Mrs. Harlowe was an excellent woman. She was called by the villagers "a
most superior woman,"--and so she was, if admirable housekeeping and
devotion to her husband's interests entitled her to the praise. She was
always busy; but the doctor, though he had a wide sweep of practice in
the surrounding country, always seemed at leisure. There was something
so cheerful, so encouraging