here is a letter
from George Somers, and he is to be down here next week; so I give you
fair warning."

"Warning?" said Fanny Grey, looking up from her embroidery; "what do you
mean by that, mamma?"

"Now that's just you, Fanny," said the elder sister, laughing. "You dear
little simplicity, you can never understand any thing unless it is
stated as definitely as the multiplication table."

"But we need no warning in the case of Cousin George, I'm sure," said
Fanny.

"Cousin George, to be sure! Do you hear the little innocent?" said
Isabella, the second sister. "I suppose, Fanny, you never heard that he
had been visiting all the courts of Europe, seeing all the fine women,
stone, picture, and real, that are to be found. Such an _amateur_ and
_connoisseur_!"

"Besides having received a fortune of a million or so," said Emma. "I
dare say now, Fanny, you thought he was coming home to make dandelion
chains, and play with button balls, as he used to do when he was a
little boy."

"Fanny will never take the world as it is," said Mrs. Grey. "I do
believe she will be a child as long as she lives." Mrs. Grey said this
as if she were sighing over some radical defect in the mind of her
daughter, and the delicate cheek of Fanny showed a tint somewhat deeper
as she spoke, and she went on with her embroidery in silence.

Mrs. Grey had been left, by the death of her husband, sole guardian of
the three girls whose names have appeared on the page. She was an
active, busy, ambitious woman, one of the sort for whom nothing is ever
finished enough, or perfect enough, without a few touches, and dashes,
and emendations; and, as such people always make a mighty affair of
education, Mrs. Grey had made it a life's enterprise to order, adjust,
and settle the character of her daughters; and when we use the word
_character_, as Mrs. Grey understood it, we mean it to include both
face, figure, dress, accomplishments, as well as those more unessential
items, mind and heart.

Mrs. Grey had determined that her daughters should be something
altogether out of the common way; and accordingly she had conducted the
training of the two eldest with such zeal and effect, that every trace
of an original character was thoroughly educated out of them. All their
opinions, feelings, words, and actions, instead of gushing naturally
from their hearts, were, according to the most approved authority,
diligently compared and revised. Emma, the eldest, was an i