e is becoming all that her father can desire.

When Miss Damer went into the situation as a governess, it was with the
hope of remaining some time, perhaps years. We can easily fix our plans,
but we are strangers to the future; it is not for us to say by what
means they are to be frustrated. When Miss Damer had been two months a
governess, she was told by the gentleman's sister in whose family she
was placed, that several friends were to dine with them, and she begged
that she would join their party. On that day she attracted the notice of
a gentleman who was one of the guests. When she entered the
drawing-room, and he heard her name announced, he turned quickly to look
at her; he beheld the same dark pensive eyes, the same noble features,
and modest, dignified manner, which seventeen years before had struck
him in another. But it was not her personal appearance altogether that
interested him: it was the character that had been given of her by Mrs.
Adair; and the remembrance of his feelings, when his daughter in her
troubled sleep exclaimed, "O, my dear Miss Damer, do come to me! Papa
then won't punish me, you are so like mamma!"

But I will not prolong this subject; I have only to add, that Miss Damer
is the happy wife of Mr. Bruce; and that few persons are more attached
to each other than the mother and the daughter Mr. Bruce, though several
years older than his wife, was exactly the person calculated to make
her happy, being a man of excellent character and good sense; giving
part of his time to the world, but considering home the chief place for
happiness.

When Miss Arden came into possession of her fortune, she remained as a
parlour boarder with Mrs. Adair, but the principal part of her time was
spent with Mrs. Bruce. A lingering disease, however, came on, and she
could not be happy separated from her friend: she therefore removed to
her house. After experiencing the most affectionate attention from Mr.
and Mrs. Bruce, she at length resigned her life, with hopes full of
immortality. Mrs. Adair and her friend were with her in her last
moments. She expressed her gratitude to them with all the energy of
health; and then, clasping a hand of each, died serenely, hoping to meet
them hereafter. To the father of her friend she left a very handsome
annuity for life. "I know," she had stated in her will, "that I cannot
oblige my friend in any other shape but by contributing to her father's
comfort, and oh, may he see the