than ten minutes' consideration, and graver back with the humility of a penitent crimierities than girls of fifteen. The mind of Zai- nal, Zaidee waited to hear her ignorance coudee Vivian, to whom the fascinating volume on demned.

the table was unknown, was cast afloat in an "Really I do not make a very promising beinstant upon the chronicle of Froissart in the ginning," said Mrs. Cumberland. "Never read Grange library, and upon the infallible records it? Do you know nothing of history, then, my of one Shakspeare, an authority greater than poor child? Is that what you mean to say?" history. Zaidee did not make much progress 'Only Shakspeare and Froissart," said Zaiin thinking, though she tried conscientiously. dee slowly, hanging her head, and feeling herThese wayward fancies of hers carried her off self a very culprit. Mrs. Cumberland brightto the courtly assembly before Harfleurs-to ened again.

Faulconbridge sparring at Austria with his That is very well, my love," said this enwicked wit-to poor, proud, frantic Constance, couraging preceptress; "and I only want to and the cruel councils of King John; and sent hear your opinion of them to be quite satisfied her away down the stream in the most mag- with you."

nanimous impartiality, to sake side with every But, alas! Zaidee could give no opinionunfortunate. Bolingbroke first, and then King neither on the abstract question, nor the parRichard; poor old York, with his pretty Rut- ticular one. She only sat very still, in a state land; and saintly Henry, with his haughty of overpowering self-reproach and humbleness. queen. Zaidee's meditations would only have She could not comfort herself by reflecting how ended with the extent of her knowledge and rec- ridiculous mamma was, as Mary did. Zaidee ollection, had she been left to herself, when lo! could find nothing to complain of but herself. there broke upon their maze the rustle of Mrs. Whole ten minutes to think in, and not a morCumberland's sudden movement, and her sharp sel of thought to come out of it! She was not and high-pitched voice, as she consulted her bold enough to look up to meet her questioner's watch once more, "Ten minutes-have you eye. finished thinking, young ladies? Now, Mary, what have you to say?"

Well, Macaulay's History is a very pleasant book to read, mamma," said Mary.

Mrs. Cumberland nodded her assent.

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"We will change the subject. I see it is too much for you, my dear children," said Mrs. Cumberland, and the exercise is new and unusual. You were visiting the Cathedral yesterday-there is a delightful theme!-the Cathedral of Ulm, and architecture in general. Let me hear your thoughts upon these."

And English history is "--But here Mary, whose voice had an unmistakable quaver of laughter in it, stopped short, and bit her lips But Zaidee! Zaidee! The good lady never to keep it down. English history is--" meant your wayward fancies to climb up and "A very great subject, Mary my darling," build nests for themselves like so many birds broke in poor Mrs. Burtonshaw, whose tele- in the fretted niches of yonder noble tower. graphed and perfectly unintelligible communi- While Mary wonders vainly what style this cations had become every moment more vehe- Ulm Cathedral is of, and tries to recollect, but ment. Mrs. Burtonshaw was much alarmed, doubts if she ever heard its date and builders, lest her favourite should come off second best. Zaidee makes a bewildered flight from the little Elizabeth, I must have silence!" cried church at Briarford to the stately German Dom, Mrs. Cumberland. English history is-Mary, and links together in a hasty procession all the pray go on." other great buildings she is aware of having English history is a very great subject, seen, from that pepperboxed and genteel erecmamma, as aunt Burtonshaw says," said Mary, tion, rich with the characteristic graces of the very demurely, and with a little courtesy, for eighteenth century, where Mrs. Disbrowe and Mary had risen with wicked formality to be her household go to church every Sunday, to examined. other foreign cathedrals of which the travellers And that is the sum of your reflections on had a hasty view on their journey here. Zaisuch a glorious theme!" cried Mrs. Cumber-dee is in great haste, terrified lest the ten miland, elevating her hands. "Well, the first nutes should expire before she has reviewed her duty of an instructress is patience. Sit down, subject; but alas! when the ten minutes have and I do not wish you to rise when I question expired, it appears again only too evident that you; we will do better next time, I trust. Zaidee's troublesome ideas will not march in Now, Miss Francis, tell me your thoughts on rank and file. this subject my dear."

Undiscouraged by her failure, Mrs. CumberBut Miss Francis, worse than Mary, could land perseveres, proposing subject after subject not answer at all. A flood of thoughts came as various and diverse as the topics of a popupouring into Zaidee's mind: her brown cheek lar course of lectures. But so far as to-day's flushed, and her pulse beat high; but alas! experience goes, this system for encouraging they would not be brought to the bar, these thought is not a remarkably successful one, and rebellious imaginations; they would not stand Mrs. Cumberland dismisses her pupils, of whom up and answer to their names, and give due the one is full of mirth and mischief, and the description of themselves. Zaidee faltered, other greatly humiliated and self-condemning, looked up, and looked down, and could not tell with a long-drawn sigh. "Another time we At last, as her eye caught the will do better, let us hope," says this patient book upon the table, she made shift to answer. teacher; 'you are sad thoughtless children; "Indeed, I never read it ;" and, shrinking education has everything to do for you."

what to say.

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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 brotherBut 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.

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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 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."

scope.

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 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 pack of servants to look after, and appearances to keep up, and all the rest of it, when a free mind, and a life according to the rules of Nature, would make another man of me?"

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mon people. I am content to live as everybody else lives. Well, never mind, there is always aunt Burtonshaw; and I never will go away. Come and talk to my old Jane."

They went up stairs together silently to Mary's room, which was one of another long

Nature must be hard to lay hold of," said Mrs. Burtonshaw, roused to a momentary as-suite of apartments, with folding doors closed perity. and barricaded, and looking very white and "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

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But I am not a scholard, Jane; indeed, I

All

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. 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 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 46 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

CHAPTER XXV.-A NEW LIFE.

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philosophies broke new ground to its undoubt- Francis was very well; but it was rather too ing simplicity. Her thoughts, unsceptical and much to exalt her at the cost of one's own child. unenlightened, entered into everything. What Ah, Elizabeth, I know woman's heart!" was "fudge to Mary's indignant experience, said Mrs. Cumberland, mysteriously. And if was often a new idea to the ignorant faith of all the pretenders to this occult knowledge are Zaidee. She believed in Mrs. Cumberland's as learned in it as Mrs. Cumberland is in the endeavors to make them think, unsuccessful thoughts of these two children, the science will though these endeavors were; she believed in not make much progress in our day. Woman's Mr. Cumberland's attempts at the conversion heart was liable to but one disease, according of the world by vegetable diet; she found a to the interpretation of Mrs. Cumberland and charm and interest in all she heard, because her kindred philosophers; and that was the she trusted without hesitation that all was malady vulgarly called love;-a malady from true. Her mind was large enough to receive which Mary and Zaidee were equally far apart. floating visions of those old fabulous Powises, "I observe she has an open mind," said Mr. and of the equally fabulous new paradise in Cumberland, talking in his usual way, as he the South Seas, and in her visionary way to poked about the side-tables with his curious speculate on both. Zaidee's great grief at this eyes. "She listens, that child; she does not time was, that she could not think to Mrs. only hear. A very useful member of a comCumberland's dictation. Her great amuse-munity, I'll warrant, if all you say of her is ment was listening to the stories of old Jane true, sister Burtonshaw-and a quiet little Williams; and her favorite occupation was thing into the bargain. Your daughter is still the sewing which was always to be found whimsical, Maria Anna; what right has she in Mrs. Burtonshaw's room. For Zaidee who to have opinions? Make a woman a speculabesides this apparent world, had a world in tor, and she veers about to every wind. Why secret which no one shared with her. There can't Mary listen and be quiet, like this little was no employment so consolatory as this fem- girl?

inine occupation, which gave her an excuse for "She's not pretty; I don't know what's the silence and full scope for thought. Mary Cum- good of her," said Sylvester Burtonshaw. This berland did not understand it. Mary had ac- young gentleman's opinion was the only unfacomplishments to keep up and an indefinite vorable one. These fanciful people were not quantity of " practising" to do. She was de- unkind in any particular. Their household termined not to look like a savage if she ever was something of an extravagant household, should attain to "society "and England again, every one doing what was good in his own and had no mind to educate herself for the eyes; and if the scene had been London, you South Seas. So Mary was of a hundred differ- could well have understood why Mr. Cumberent opinions respecting her new companion. land, awe-stricken at sight of his banker's At times she envied, at times she laughed at, book, sighed for the South Seas. But noat no time did she understand her; but liking body" lived at Ulm; the English tourists grew strong between these two girls: they were few and unfrequent; and there was no went upon the ways which were so different artificial heightening of prices. The waste with a growing regard for each other. Mrs. was cheap that was done here on the banks of Burtonshaw was delighted with her success. the Danube; and society did not require much She, good woman, who never looked beneath from the odd English people who visited no the surface, was not puzzled by Zaidee. She one. They lived in a very liberal fashion, and understood the poor child perfectly, said Mrs. fed not a few from the crumbs of their abunBurtonshaw. Miss Francis was shy, and did dant table; and even if Mrs. Cumberland had not talk much; it was quite natural, and she not been far above such miserable details, the liked plain sewing. Pity that young ladies in addition of one little individual like Zaidee, general were not of her opinion. But there was quite unfelt in the great house. They rewas nothing outrè, or odd, or unusual about ceived her very readily into the heart of the Miss Francis; she was no more " interesting" family, such as it was; and Mary's companion than another; she never pretended to have shared every thing with Mary, even the gifts a history; she was only a good, quiet, thought- of aunt Burtonshaw. In a very little time she ful little girl. was fairly naturalized as a member of the

There is deep enthusiasm in those eyes," household. Even in Mr. Cumberland's plans said Mrs. Cumberland. Credit me, I know Zaidee had a place; and except the one dread woman's heart. Dear child, if she has not a of returning to England, which Mary was so history now, she will soon have one. I trem- anxious for, fear departed out of our young ble for what she may have to suffer. She will pilgrim's heart. She wandered about those love, and she will grieve; but she shall have quaint German streets; she sat awed and unmy care and sympathy, Elizabeth-all that I responsive in the choir of that great solemn can do for her, poor little predestined martyr. cathedral, while Mary went lightly over the I can see her fate." stalls, commenting on the wonderful carving, Her fate, Anna Maria? Why should the which was one of the details which Zaidee did poor girl have a fate?-and why do you not not notice; or watched the sunshine streaming think of your own dear child?" cried Mrs. into the empty air, through the grand painted Burtonshaw. If there was any distinction in windows, while her companion ran over the having a fate, Mrs. Burtonshaw did not see " 'wohlgeborens " on the tombstones in that why it should be withheld from Mary. Miss little chapel in the wall. More and more

Zaidee marvelled if this stately place had ever very eyes did see him grow. My sister was been built, which looked so perfect, tinged all called Mary, and she was in favor with my over with its down of moss; and more and lady. Many's the thing Mary did see of more Mary wondered and smiled at Zaidee, and the family. We've all been in trust where asked what she could mean. They were close we've been in service. I never did tell you of friends; and Mary poured into her compan- my father. He went out of Wales. Yes, sure. ion's ear all her girlish positive opinions, her Oh, it's an evil day when one of us goes out of purposes and hopes; while Zaidee responded Wales! But he had such great money, he was with hints of her own story, which any one persuaded. I saw the gentleman when I was a who had the clue, might easily have put to- little child. He was a great squire, and had gether. But Mary had no clue, and like most great riches, and was mad in his temper, and others who, born to few cares, are fully dis- six foot tall, and great lands to the very sea. posed to make the most of what they have, she My father did live in terror for him. He was was occupied by her own affairs too much to a great man-he minded nobody; and even give a very nice attention to her companion's. Williams was of the thought the devil did have Simple Zaidee betrayed herself many a time. him-and red fire was in his eye. When my Mary, not less simple, wist not of the self- father did talk of him, the little children was betrayal, and was none the wiser. They lived scared, and durst not stay alone; and himself, in great cordiality, a true pair of girlish once he was frightened with a waterfall, and friends; and Zaidee had almost forgotten now came home like death, and said the old squire those bitter weeks and days which changed her had called to him in the stream. You children, life from that of the youngest child at home, will you husht, then? Does bad men ever to the poor solitary governess at Mrs. Dis- come up in this world again, to scare us? No, browe's. She read that loving address to her- sure; God Almighty takes thought for that." sel in the great newspaper every night; she "And what was the old squire called ?" said prayed for them lovingly, name by name, when Zaidee. The girl was trembling with sudden she had read her chapter, after the fashion of interest. Every old squire could not be Grandher devout child's training, in her father's father Vivian; but it was his character as bible; she thought of them all day long, and well as his designation. every day; but her heart was lightened out of "Called? He was out of Wales, child. its first agony. She no longer recollected aunt Your names is not like our names. It was a Vivian's first outburst of dismay, or Phillip's hard name to say. I cannot think of it now. pale courageousness as he told his discovery, Ah, it is a good place where all is Williamses when she woke in her little foreign chamber. and Joneses, and the gentry is old blood, and Sometimes it was Mary, sometimes a good so is the commons, and all are of one. Then thought of last night's chapter, sometimes an there's kind servants and kind masters; and anticipation of to-day's employments, which the one does well for the other, and both's woke Zaidee in the morning; and her days friends. It is a cold country where every one were full of pleasant occupation till the night has a different name-yes, indeed. And how brought rest once more.

can I tell what the old squire was called? But Then there was a world of legends in the lit- he died. The Almighty takes thought, and tle closet which Mrs. Williams called her room; Satan gets his own. Hush, children. When and Zaidee became a living chronicle of the he's got their poor souls, and carried them down somewhat faded glories of the antediluvian below there, maybe Satan has a poor bargain. house of Powis. By dint of sympathy, Mary I tell you my thought; he did have his hands too came to listen to these stories-began to full with that old squire, you take my word. see a little difference between true romance and My father was a big man, though I be small. counterfeit and to find out dimly that all He was Evan Williams by name, and well poetry was not rubbish, nor all sentiment thought of in his own country; but the squire fadge. "Aunt Burtonshaw is always right-I frighted him for all. No, child, I forget his wanted a companion--I had no one to tell me name. It was a name, was reckoned a good it was only mamma," said Mary to herself. But name in Cheshire, and as old as they do be in it was consolatory to find out now that "only England. I have it somewhere. You come to mamma," and not all the minstrels and sweet me in my room one day, and you shall see my singers of all ages were in the wrong.

CHAPTER XXVI.-JANE,

papers. If a scholard was to look over them, they'd bring me riches, I do believe. My father had some, my brother had some, and our Mary; for old Sir Watkin died, and there was "Well, chilt, you see, if this was Sir Wat- a scatter at Powisland, and every one took what kin's boy, he was a beautiful lad,-and his useless thing was lying. I have a housewife, name was a great grand name, but not like the Miss Mary, all violet and gold, was made by my names we have in Wales. The sweet Welsh, I lady's hand. Yes, sure; the grand old ladies never forget it; but you never know what them they never did scorn to thread a needle. They English ladies do call their boys. He was son had the use in their fingers, Miss Mary-yes, to a pretty lady. She was come from the sure." south, and married to Rhys Llewellyn, Sir Watkin's youngest boy. So, when Rhys died, and the lady died, the small child came home to Powisland, and there he was bred, and my

"You forget I made a cap for you. I think you are not at all grateful, Jane," said Mary Cumberland.

"You listen to me, child; 'twas for your