CHAPTER XXIV.-THEORIES.

ever I knew you," exclaimed the incensed lady, with a little outburst. "You sold Whimsleigh

"Learning lessons is quite a different thing. which ought to have been Mary's, poor dear, There is some sense in learning lessons," said for Nature; you came here for Nature; you Mary Cumberland; "but I can't go and tell lived on sauer-kraut and radishes for Nature; everything I think to mamma. I don't believe and now you have to seek her at the end of the mamma would understand me, if I did. I am world, among a crew of pagan socialists! quite sure I should never understand her. Let What's Nature, I should like to know? Does us have masters, aunt Burtonshaw, as you say. she teach people how to conduct themselvesI always did my tasks, and was ready for to think on their responsibilities-and mind them; but I can't help thinking in my own their children? I had rather know my duty way. I can't think in anybody else's. Ask than Nature, if you consulted me.' Lizzy here if she is not just like me. "What, angry, Elizabeth?" said her brother"But dear, dear, what will Maria Anna in-law, with a little crowing laugh. "Angry, ay?" cried poor Mrs. Burtonshaw. "She has my good sister! Throw it off; it is only a set her heart on it, Mary. She will blame me passion fit for the ignorant. Yes, I must folfor it all. There now-there's a darling-I am low Nature; it is my mission. What another sure you will try again." man may pass by, I feel it my duty to go into. "If Maria Anna would pay less attention to People leave great truths to develop themselves that child's mind, and more to her diet, she in these days; but I pride myself in being on would do better service," said Mr. Cumberland, the alert to perceive them wherever they can be who had just come in. "But between you and discovered. The true life principle is the grand me, Elizabeth, your sister is extremely fanciful. object of search in all ages. Women are always Her own whims are all the rule she has, you bustling about small matters-it is quite right see; nothing like fixed principles. Her stan--it is their nature; but we will make a revodard changes every week or two. I am not say-lution in all your little fashions, sister Elizaing anything against Mrs. Cumberland, who is beth. Yes, yes, though one should go to the a superior woman; but she wants repose, sister South Seas for it, there is nothing like Nature; Burtonshaw. She is a great deal too fidgety for and, I thank heaven, you are quite right; I the comfort of the house." have pursued her all my life."

While this speech was being delivered, Mr. So saying, Mr. Cumberland sat down, and Cumberland was leisurely perambulating the drew a thick French pamphlet from his pocket, apartment, with one hand behind him, and while his daughter, in great excitement, hurwith the other eagerly picking up and examin-ried Zaidee away. Mary Cumberland, whose ing every scrap of written or printed paper youth asserted itself strongly enough when which came in his way. Mr. Cumberland's there was opportunity, was not unfrequently sharp eyes travelled before him, scanning every- startled into the language and the decision of a thing with a curiosity for which no detail was full-grown woman. "If any other man had too minute. He went on talking as he survey- said it, one might have hoped it was too ridicued the side-tables, which were burdened with lous," said Mary, with the varying complexion lumber enough to give his inquiring mind full of strong alarm and excited feeling; "but scope. papa is fit to do anything. I tell you I will not "What do you think of the Fourierists, sis- go! I will have nothing to do with his fool's ter Burtonshaw? An absurd prejudice has paradise-I will not! I will rather go and swamped poor Robert Owen in our country. starve at home."

But I am a candid man; I cannot shut my eyes "Starve ?-they will not give you leave," to the fact that communism is the true state said Zaidee. "No one can die except God does of civilization. Do you know I have a great it for them. Is it far away? for I would rather mind to shut up this paltry old house, and be go there than go home.'

done with the trials of private housekeeping, "Yes, they would have me sacrifice all my and join myself to some company of social life," said Mary bitterly, without noticing brethren. The happiest way!-not a doubt of Zaidee's interruption. They would shut me it. Though, of course Maria Anna will grum-out from everything that others have. I I should ble at the blessed equality which characterizes have only theories to live upon, if they had such settlements. One of the South Sea Islands, their will. You need not look at me so. Perfor example-if such a paradise should be in the haps I am not amiable. I never pretended to market-with a heavenly climate, and fertile be amiable, or superior, or intellectual, or any soil, and a refined community. Why should I of these fine things. I am only one of the combe such a fool as to keep my house here, with a mon people. I am content to live as everybody pack of servants to look after, and appearances else lives. Well, never mind, there is always to keep up, and all the rest of it, when a free aunt Burtonshaw; and I never will go away. mind, and a life according to the rules of Na- Come and talk to my old Jane." ture, would make another man of me?"

They went up stairs together silently to Mary's room, which was one of another long as-suite of apartments, with folding doors closed and barricaded, and looking very white and

Nature must be hard to lay hold of," said Mrs. Burtonshaw, roused to a momentary perity.

Ay, sister Burtonshaw?-why so?" cried chill in its great extent of wall. Mary looked the philosopher, facing round upon her. round upon it with discontent. "I might have "Because you have been hunting her since had a cosy little room at home instead of this.

What was yours like?" said Mary; "but I am days. Wa've been decent peoples; we've not sure I cannot say I have ever lived at home. never taken service with the common. My We have been moving about all my life." father was body servant to a great squire over "Mine was "-(Zaidee saw the place in all the Dee, and my sister was no less than in my its quaint and quiet solitude as she spoke)-lady's chamber at the grand house in Powis"small and high, like the little room I have land. Yes sure the Williamses is known, here; but there were dark, bright pannels on though I be come to a foreign part, and have the walls, and an old oak chair and old pic- Miss Mary to mind in my old days." tures in the window. A cross was one-I think "You are not very complimentary to Miss of it every day," said Zaidee, with a sigh; Mary, Jane," said Mary Cumberland. "and the winds were rushing at it all day long "A good chilt" said Jane, nodding her --there are no winds now like what there are head, "and gives little trouble; but not like at home-and sighing and shouting about the them ittle laaties at Powisland, that were house all night. When the wind is high here grand-mannered like angels. For certain sure it is like a friend to me; I always try to listen I'd serve lords and laaties sooner than the if I know the voice, and wonder-though it is common; but meaning no harm here. Many's so foolish-if it has been there-at home. the pretty story I could tell you of old Sir Wat

"They are like that in my country," said a kin, and let you see his picture; yes, indeed, little old woman, approaching to them hastily. and papers I've got that belonged to the family From the thin locks gathered under her white from the time of Noah-them that they had muslin cap, to the well shod feet appearing before that was spoilt with the water. You will under her dress, this little woman, with her laugh then, you wicked chilt? But I could round ruddy face like a russet apple, her show you--well never mind. The Powises is small, sparkling, black eyes, her little air of as old as Wales; and will you just tell me self-consequence, was Welsh all over. Good- what part of the worlt the Almighty was done humored yet pragmatical, quick to take offence with first of all? Them that is scholards in and endowed with a great deal of innocent self- my country would be sure to know." complacency; not one of Mr. Cumberland's "But I am not a scholard, Jane; indeed, I

miscellaneous crowd of servants was half so could not tell you " said Mary. thrifty or so comfortable as this little person- "Yes indeed " said the old woman, nodding age; a standing memorial of Mr. Cumberland's her head once more complacently; "Wales rustication in Wales, whence Jane had followed wasn't the last, you take my word for it. I the family. Jane, who insisted on being called know a vale lies at the foot of them low hills Mrs. Williams down stairs, and who was ac- as you go to the sea; there is a river on every cordingly addressed by that dignified title in side, and the beautifulest flowers in the world about as many different pronunciations as and all kinds of beautiful fruit grows there. there were servants in the house, was Mary Husht then, and whisper you children, all the Cumberland's special attendant. Mary was clergy in the world wouldn't hinder me, but I too much talked at down stairs to appreciate know what that place is?" poor Jane's simple stories, her overflowing store "And what is it?" asked Zaidee eagerly. of moral reflections, and accumulation of good "It's Eden, chilt. Yes sure it's the garden," advice; but even Mary discerned enough of said Jane with solemnity. "No one had need the old woman's character to permit her the say it wasn't to me; and I know not the hard privileges of a servant of the old school. heart would'nt pity Adam, driven out to Eng"They are like that in my country-you come land among the savages; for you was all savfrom Wales for sure said Jane. "Them is ages, and not a decent thing to put on. All the winds for light hearts, you take my word the fights that was fought, and all the grand for it, and cheeks like roses. Where I come castles, that was taken, who was it, then, but from was under Moylvama, and she is only the Powises? I could tell you-yes, sure-small to them great mountains as is in South loads of tales." Wales. And to speak of rivers! for certain CHAPTER XXV.-A NEW LIFE. sure, I could wade this one-and you see meyou young ladies is taller-sooner than a great After this introduction, it is not difficult to big man, the biggest of all the Joneses, could imagine how Zaidee, with her warm imaginacross them that comes down all in a haste and tion and facility of belief, sought the society of flurry, with the foam flying, from the hills. Jane, Zaidee's perceptions were sadly obtuse You, Miss Mary, I won't have you laugh then-in respect to the ranks and degrees of ordinary you was a small chilt-you could never tell my life. She felt it no condescension to seek out beautiful Wales from another place. Miss Miss Mary's Welsh attendant, as she had chilt-you other one-what people do you found it no derogation when she was left to know in Wales!" the society of Mrs. Disbrowe's Irish nurse.

"Mr. Powis came from there. I never knew The girl lived so much in an atmosphere of her any other," said Zaidee. own, that the manners of others were harm "Mr. Powis ! Was it my beautiful, darling, less to her, whether it might be the over-fine lad, that was old Sir Watkin's boy ?" cried manners of Mrs. Cumberland, or those of Mrs. Jane, drawing closer. "I'm a small, old wo-Cumberland's servant, which were not fine in man now, and mind, Miss Mary, but I'd have any respect. Zaidee was not uninterested in you to know I was Sir Watkin Powis's first any member of this household. Her mind was dairy-woman, and a great lady in my young so fresh and open, that even Mr. Cumberland's

They went on again after that to the other too, I suppose ? And now come and tell me lions of the quaint little ancient town, and to what you like and what you don't like, and the Dannbe flowing full and strong under its all that you think about. I shall call you walls. They went in silence, not knowing Lizzy. I like that best for a name, because what to say to each other; and Mary could not there is nothing fine about it. Do you like record a single " beautiful," or 66 grand," or Ulm now that you have seen it? Do you think "sublime;" or indeed an exclamation of any it is a grand church that? and is'nt it funny sort from her companion's lips. "Are you to see these poor cows instead of horses, and not pleased? would you rather go home!" the country people with their red handkerasked Mary at last, weary of puzzling and be- chiefs, and their brown faces? They don't ing disappointed. "Do you think Ulm is not think of their complexion in Wirtemberg; a fine town after those you have seen?" they have no time for that. Were you ever ill? I was once since we came here; and it was so strange to lie and listen to the river and to the great chimes in the Dom. I should have died I think, but for aunt Elizabeth. Was she very good to you? Do you like her very much? Every one ought, I think, for she is always so kind."

"I have never seen anything like that," said Zaidee, pointing to the tower, which was always visible, rising through the clear blue frosty air, at every turn they took.

Do you think it is beautiful? do you think it is grand ?" said Zaidee's tempter.

But Zaidee looked uneasy, was slow to answer, and would not be beguiled into trans- Coming to a pause less from want of matter ports, of which her companion could be com- than from want of breath, Mary pulled her fortably contemptuous. "I do not know what friends sleeve, and looked into her face. "Are names to call it," said Zaidee; I think it you asleep, or why don't you speak to me?" looks as if it lived and had been here for all cried Mary. "Why did you come to Ulm? Now these long, long hundreds of years. Did you tell me quick, for I don't like solemn people. ever see a great mountain? is it like that What made you come here?" tower?"

66

turn.

66

Did you ever see one?" asked Mary in re

"It was as good as dying" said Zaidee in her low voice; it is so far away." "As good as dying!" Mary was struck "I only know a little hill at home," said with horror. Why, what put dying in your Zaidee with becoming humility. "It is not head I should like to know? Is the house so high, but there is nothing higher between it dull, do you think. I don't like dull houses and heaven; and you can look far away to the myself, nor a great many heavy trees; but and the wind rushes round you, all mamma thinks it romantic, interesting! One round, without any shelter. I think, though can't help what one's mamma thinks-people it is low and little, the mountains themselves must submit to that" said Mary shrugging must be like that hill; that is all I know of her shoulders; but I am sorry if the house them." looks so dismal to you."

sea,

"I do not think the house is dismal.

"If we go to Switzerland, you will see That enough of mountains," said Mary. "Do you little room is like a little room at home," said like to travel? Tell me what you like best Zaidee; "and I like to be here; I was very glad to see. I like the valleys and the quiet coun- to come. Do you know any stories of the time try. I do not care for anything grand. I like when that tower was made? I think it must to see the farm houses, and the people going be a very long time ago."

home at night; and poor little cottages and "Do you like old stories?" said Mary, at brown little children on the way. What is present, bent, with true girlish earnestness, on your name? I don't like to call you Miss Fran- a minute comparison of experiences and opincis," cried Mary suddenly plunging into the ions. "I like stories of common people, and frankest unreserve; "and tell me what you the present time; I don't care about antilike best to see quity. Mamma says I have such bad taste, and This sudde ap from suspicious restraint am so prosaic. I like to-day a great deal better into the ex rant friendship of a school-girl, than yesterday; so I am not like you.' puzzled za.dee almost as much as Zaidee had "I like to-morrow," said Zaidee her dark puzzled her new friend. But the surprise was face brightening, "where I can make stories a pleasant one; and the two girls proceeded on for myself, and they may all come true. Have their way arm in arm, comparing likings and you bad taste, and are you prosaic? I should experiences. The stranger had made a con- not like that." quest already. This honest, ill-nurtured improvable Mary, was Zaidee's fast friend.

CHAPTER XXII.-FRIENDSHIP.

"Mamma says so," said Mary, with the unfailing shrug. "Oh yes, I suppose I am. We are not interesting, nor romantic nor poetical; we are only common people, aunt Burtonshaw and I."

"What does common people mean?" asked Zaidee.

"Aunt Burtonshaw said I wanted a companion; I never thought so I am sure. But now I see aunt Burtonshaw was right" con- But Mary could not very well answer the fessed Mary Cumberland. "I never had a question. Mary had no recollection at the friend before, had you? And I want to un- moment, of the pride that apes humility; she derstand you. You want to understand me only knew that she was opposed, with all her

might, to the sentimentality of mamma, and eyes from the sky where they had travelled did not perceive, that to boast of not being upwards by means of the great tower, and fixsuperior was about as bad and rather more ing them wistfully on Mary's face. foolish, than to boast of superiority. Mamma's Mary, who was very honest, and reverenced extreme refinement and ethereal delicacy everything which she called religion without threw Mary in disgust, to the opposite ex- knowing very well what religion meant, faltreme; but simple Zaidee, who was no observer tered a little. "Yes, I think so," said Mary; of character, and who asked the question in but it struck her at the moment, more than pure good faith, and without an inference, usual, how far out of her acquaintance this could not help to enlighten her friend. other country was.

"I mean just like every body else I mean "Then I wish most of all I had died then," -why, just common people to be sure," said said Zaidee; "that would have been best." Mary eluding the difficulty. Now, what I "I cannot tell how it could be best to die," should like best when I am grown up would said Mary Cumberland. "It is all very well be a great house in the country, like that to say such a thing; but no one means it, I beautiful place papa was so foolish as to sell; am sure. Why, if it was only for other people, with a village at the park gates, and London would you like to make some one grieve for not very far off. I should like to live a pleas- you? I should not, though I am not sentiant neighborly life, and visit the other people mental. I should not like to think of any one about, and go to town sometimes. I should weeping and mourning for me."

like to have a great many dresses and jewels, "No, if you brought harm to them," said and everything handsome about me; and to Zaidee quickly; but if you only died! We choose my own friends, and have things like all loved my uncle Percy when he was living, what other people have. I should like to have but so dearly, so dearly when they carried him a cheerful house, and everybody saying what away! I could bear them to grieve for me; I they thought. That is what I should choose." could bear to see them weeping if I died but

Zaidee made no answer; she was looking not to vex them, and bring them trouble, and out from the window, where, beyond that live through it all. They would know me then, great tower, the clouds were troublous and No one would think of harm or sorrow, but broken like the stormy Cheshire skies; and only of love, if God would let me die!" Zaidee's tangled thoughts were flying hither and thither like so many birds of passage, between the Grange of Briarford, and Ulm on the Danube-this far away foreign town.

"Why will you not speak?" asked Mary. "I tell you what I am thinking, but you never say any thing to me. Tell me, what should you like best?"

"Who are they?-and who is your uncle? and what do you mean?" cried Mary Cumberland. You are a strange girl. I do not understand you. What do you mean?"

The next words that Zaidee addressed to her, convinced Mary that anything like a “rational answer" was not to be expected from her new companion. "I hear the Danube," said Zaidee. "Is it far till you come to the rocks and castles? for I see none here."

For

my part, I do not care for them; but I like
very well in summer to hear the water rushing
along by the old walls. The river never makes
one dreary; it is not like the sea."
?"

Zaidee made a long pause of consideration, as her companion thought. "I would like to be the youngest child, and always to live at home, "What has the Danube to do with it, then?" and never bring harm or sorrow," cried Zai- cried Mary, with some petulance. "I like to dee in her low and rapid voice-and Zaidee speak rationally. I like to know what I am in her imagination, saw a hundred crowding talking of. I cannot leap about like this. There pictures of the blessedness of the youngest are no rocks nor castles for a long way. child, whom no one could ever think of leaving fortunes or estates to-the little one, everybody's servant, whom everybody loved," said Zaidee. And Mary could by no means understand the passion of restrained and eager "Did you ever see the sun set on the sea longing, which sounded in Zaidee's cry. said Zaidee, whose imagination at the moment Are you afraid of having a fortune left was suddenly emblazoned with all the stormy you," asked Mary; and it was a very legiti-glories of the Cheshire sunset-a daily marvel mate question. "Did any one ever threaten such as Mary Cumberland knew not of. to leave you a fortune?" continued the young "Oh yes, I have seen the sun set on the sea, lady, roused into something of her former and mamma said it was heavenly; and papa criticism and suspiciousness. "I should not wondered whether we might not pierce down have run away, If I had been you. I should through the earth with a tube, and get to the like to have a fortune left me myself. I am antipodes before him" said Mary, with an afraid we are not much like each other, after uneasy ridicule and impatience. Do you know all, for I am not above being rich, or for- there is one thing in the world I should like tunate, or happy." above all other things, and I will never get But if this sidelong shaft was intended to it; I should like to have wise friends." wound Zaidee, it proved a signal failure, for From this exclamation, uttered with a little Zaidee's thoughts had already struck aside on haste and heat, Zaidee instinctively retreated. different ground. “Do you think little chil- Zaidee had an intuitive perception that howdren when they die are always sure to go to ever true Mary's observations might be, she heaven?" asked the dreamer, withdrawing her was the last person in the world who ought to

have made them. Poor Mary Cumberland! | tell you what is my idea of the first thing needall the tenderest and fairest of human emo- ful to a proper education. It is to teach your tions, had been made suspicious things to her young minds to think, my loves. Mary, What clear and homely understanding. No admira- were you thinking of just now!"

tion at all was better than wordy raptures Mary, though not much given to diffidence, over everything; and Mary was disposed to blushed scarlet at this address, and hung her defy and cherish a resentment against that head. Her thought, if she had reported it, Beauty at whose shrine her mother was a weak would not have been much to her own credit, worshipper, and to hold Nature and Art, those or to the satisfaction of her mother. oft-quoted potencies, as twin-supporters of a "You cannot tell? Fie, child, how thoughtfictitious system, all false pretension and van- less," said Mrs. Cumberland. And you Miss ity. Humbug," said Sylvester Burtonshaw, Francis, what was in your mind?"

who was no great example of good sense, But Zaidee, too, faltered. There were so though on a different model from his aunt and many things in her mind, she could not withuncle Cumberland; and the word was very draw one separate fancy from the stream, and much in his young cousin's thoughts. She sat present it as an individual thought; for they at table like Mr. Burchell, and said "fudge!" were all fancies, and the number of them was the only concession that she made to her pa- infinite; these irregular battalions never rents being that she said it within herself. marched in single file.

46

Now Zaidee Vivian was quite unlearned in Mrs. Cumberland shook her head, and tapped fudge and humbug. When Mary's eyes were them playfully over the fingers with the papersparkling, half with angry shame, and half knife she held in her hand. "Yet I daresay with derision, Zaidee listened with involuntary you both believed you were thinking, though respect; for Zaidee, who was almost destitute neither of you can tell what it was," said their of the ordinary forms of politeness, had much instructress. Now, education enables you of its essence at heart, and a great reverence to think, and makes you masters of your for all whom she believed her superiors, a class thoughts. I will give you a subject. Here is which included her whole acquaintance over a book upon the table-it is Macaulay's Histwenty years old. But it happened well that tory of England. Let me know what you think Zaidee's respectful listening, did not lead her of it, and of English History in general. Take to adopt Mrs. Cumberland's enthusiasms or ten minutes and form a just opinion, my Mr. Cumberland's philosophies. Not Mary dears." Cumberland's unbelieving disrespect was more

Mrs. Cumberland looked at her watch with a proof against conviction than her companion's complacent smile, and took up the book she had attention, for Zaidee had a strange inalienable been reading, as she left her astonished pupils independence in that wild visionary mind of to their first exercise. They were all seated in hers. Her thoughts were communicated to no the Salle, the general sitting-room of the famione, but ran on in a perennial stream. She ly, at the comfortable English end of it, looking was quite invincible to rational argument, this down upon the long avenue of grey matting, of poor child, and far less in danger of change marble tables and gilded chairs standing than was Mary with her logical and reason- against the wall. February days are cold on able understanding; for Zaidee Vivian rea- the banks of the Danube; and once more there soned only through her heart.

CHAP. XXIII.-EDUCATION.

glowed a litle furnace of intense red within the open door of the stove. Mrs. Cumberland in a dress fitting close to her thin figure, with her braids of hair smothed down upon her thin "Now, Mary, my darling-it is what I have cheek, sat upon a sofa turned towards the light. often longed for-you have a companion with Her sister, wrapt in a cosy shawl, with a cosy you, and I shall have the great delight of in- cap, enclosing her pleasant face in its frame of structing you myself. You are very intelligent, lace and ribbons, bloomed like a winter rose I know, my dear Mary. What do you think beside the frosty lily at her right hand. Mrs. most necessary for a proper education?" Burtonshaw had her back to the light, and was "I cannot tell, indeed, mamma, Everything, painfully endeavoring to whisper some original I suppose,' ," said Mary, with her customary suggestion on this great subject to help the shrug. cogitations of her niece. My dear Elizabeth!" That is true! cried Mrs. Burtonshaw, exclaimed Mrs. Cumberland. Mrs. Burtonshaw shaking her head solemnly. "The masters fell back upon her knitting like a culprit, and we had, Maria Anna! But Mary knows so only tried to telegraph with her eyes. A much already-more, I do believe, than I do solemn silence followed. One could see by the now." dancing fun in Mary Cumberland's eye that it "She has had many advantages," said Mrs. was very near being disturbed by a burst of Cumberland; but, my dear Elizabeth, I must laughter; but prudence prevailed; and amid beg you not to interrupt the lesson. There is the deepest stillness, and with all the help much truth in what you say, Mary;-Miss which could be afforded to them by aunt BurFrancis, my love, what is your opinion?" tonshaw's telegraphing, Mrs. Cumberland's "I only can read-and write a little," said pupils pondered their theme. Zaidee, with great humility, shrinking from what was to follow.

Macaulay's History of England, and English history in general-the subject was a suffi"Very well, my dear children. Now I will ciently great one, and deserved rather more