s to admit of such spoiling of
children. She took the poor gentleman to task for an attempt upon her
boys when those lads came home for their holidays, and caused them
ruefully to give back the shining gold sovereign with which their uncle
had thought to give them a treat.

"I do not quarrel with other families," says she; "I do not allude to
other families;" meaning, of course, that she did not allude to Park
Lane. "There may be children who are allowed to receive money from their
father's grown-up friends. There may be children who hold out their
hands for presents, and thus become mercenary in early life. I make no
reflections with regard to other households. I only look, and think,
and pray for the welfare of my own beloved ones. They want for nothing.
Heaven has bounteously furnished us with every comfort, with every
elegance, with every luxury. Why need we be bounden to others, who have
been ourselves so amply provided? I should consider it ingratitude,
Colonel Newcome, want of proper spirit, to allow my boys to accept
money. Mind, I make no allusions. When they go to school they receive
a sovereign a-piece from their father, and a shilling a week, which is
ample pocket-money. When they are at home, I desire that they may have
rational amusements: I send them to the Polytechnic with Professor
Hickson, who kindly explains to them some of the marvels of science and
the wonders of machinery. I send them to the picture-galleries and the
British Museum. I go with them myself to the delightful lectures at the
institution in Albemarle Street. I do not desire that they should attend
theatrical exhibitions. I do not quarrel with those who go to plays; far
from it! Who am I that I should venture to judge the conduct of others?
When you wrote from India, expressing a wish that your boy should be
made acquainted with the works of Shakspeare, I gave up my own opinion
at once. Should I interpose between a child and his father? I encouraged
the boy to go to the play, and sent him to the pit with one of our
footmen."

"And you tipped him very handsomely, my dear Maria, too," said the
good-natured Colonel, breaking in upon her sermon; but Virtue was not to
be put off in that way.

"And why, Colonel Newcome," Virtue exclaimed, laying a pudgy little hand
on its heart; "why did I treat Clive so? Because I stood towards him
in loco parentis; because he was as a child to me, and I to him as
a mother. I indulged him more than my own.