cult task to praise a heroine, and one that should be
indulged in but charily. But let some little indulgence be accorded this
particular heroine by reason of the life she had led, and the situation
in which she now found herself: a poor Coniston girl, dependent on one
who was not her father, though she loved him as a father; beholden to
these good people who dwelt in a world into which she had no reasonable
expectations of entering, and which, to tell the truth, she now feared.

It was inevitable that Cynthia should be brought into contact with many
friends and relations of the family. Some of these noticed and admired
her; others did neither; others gossiped about Mrs. Merrill behind her
back at her own dinners and sewing circles and wondered what folly could
have induced her to bring the girl into her house. But Mrs. Merrill, like
many generous people who do not stop to calculate a kindness, was always
severely criticised.

And then there were Jane's and Susan's friends, in and out of Miss
Sadler's school. For Mrs. Merrill's influence had been sufficient to
induce Miss Sadler to take Cynthia as a day scholar with her own
daughters. This, be it known, was a great concession on the part of Miss
Sadler, who regarded Cynthia's credentials as dubious enough; and her
young ladies were inclined to regard them so, likewise. Some of these
young ladies came from other cities,--New York and Philadelphia and
elsewhere,--and their fathers and mothers were usually people to be
mentioned as a matter of course--were, indeed, frequently so mentioned by
Miss Sadler, especially when a visitor called at the school.

"Isabel, I saw that your mother sailed for Europe yesterday," or, "Sally,
your father tells me he is building a gallery for his collection." Then
to the visitor, "You know the Broke house in Washington Square, of
course."

Of course the visitor did. But Sally or Isabel would often imitate Miss
Sadler behind her back, showing how well they understood her
snobbishness.

Miss Sadler was by no means the type which we have come to recognize in
the cartoons as the Boston school ma'am. She was a little, round person
with thin lips and a sharp nose all out of character with her roundness,
and bright eyes like a bird's. To do her justice, so far as instruction
went, her scholars were equally well cared for, whether they hailed from
Washington Square or Washington Court House. There were, indeed, none
from such rural sorts of pla