THE 1st of June arrived at last: and Rosalie Murray was transmutedinto Lady Ashby. Most splendidly beautiful she looked in herbridal costume. Upon her return from church, after the ceremony,she came flying into the schoolroom, flushed with excitement, andlaughing, half in mirth, and half in reckless desperation, as itseemed to me.

'Now, Miss Grey, I'm Lady Ashby!' she exclaimed. 'It's done, myfate is sealed: there's no drawing back now. I'm come to receiveyour congratulations and bid you good-by; and then I'm off forParis, Rome, Naples, Switzerland, London - oh, dear! what a deal Ishall see and hear before I come back again. But don't forget me:I shan't forget you, though I've been a naughty girl. Come, whydon't you congratulate me?'

'I cannot congratulate you,' I replied, 'till I know whether thischange is really for the better: but I sincerely hope it is; and Iwish you true happiness and the best of blessings.'

'Well, good-by, the carriage is waiting, and they're calling me.'

She gave me a hasty kiss, and was hurrying away; but, suddenlyreturning, embraced me with more affection than I thought hercapable of evincing, and departed with tears in her eyes. Poorgirl! I really loved her then; and forgave her from my heart allthe injury she had done me - and others also: she had not halfknown it, I was sure; and I prayed God to pardon her too.

During the remainder of that day of festal sadness, I was left tomy own devices. Being too much unhinged for any steady occupation,I wandered about with a book in my hand for several hours, morethinking than reading, for I had many things to think about. Inthe evening, I made use of my liberty to go and see my old friendNancy once again; to apologize for my long absence (which must haveseemed so neglectful and unkind) by telling her how busy I hadbeen; and to talk, or read, or work for her, whichever might bemost acceptable, and also, of course, to tell her the news of thisimportant day: and perhaps to obtain a little information from herin return, respecting Mr. Weston's expected departure. But of thisshe seemed to know nothing, and I hoped, as she did, that it wasall a false report. She was very glad to see me; but, happily, hereyes were now so nearly well that she was almost independent of myservices. She was deeply interested in the wedding; but while Iamused her with the details of the festive day, the splendours ofthe bridal party and of the bride herself, she often sighed andshook her head, and wished good might come of it; she seemed, likeme, to regard it rather as a theme for sorrow than rejoicing. Isat a long time talking to her about that and other things - but noone came.

Shall I confess that I sometimes looked towards the door with ahalf-expectant wish to see it open and give entrance to Mr. Weston,as had happened once before? and that, returning through the lanesand fields, I often paused to look round me, and walked more slowlythan was at all necessary - for, though a fine evening, it was nota hot one - and, finally, felt a sense of emptiness anddisappointment at having reached the house without meeting or evencatching a distant glimpse of any one, except a few labourersreturning from their work?

Sunday, however, was approaching: I should see him then: for nowthat Miss Murray was gone, I could have my old corner again. Ishould see him, and by look, speech, and manner, I might judgewhether the circumstance of her marriage had very much afflictedhim. Happily I could perceive no shadow of a difference: he worethe same aspect as he had worn two months ago - voice, look,manner, all alike unchanged: there was the same keen-sighted,unclouded truthfulness in his discourse, the same forcibleclearness in his style, the same earnest simplicity in all he saidand did, that made itself, not marked by the eye and ear, but feltupon the hearts of his audience.

I walked home with Miss Matilda; but HE DID NOT JOIN US. Matildawas now sadly at a loss for amusement, and wofully in want of acompanion: her brothers at school, her sister married and gone,she too young to be admitted into society; for which, fromRosalie's example, she was in some degree beginning to acquire ataste - a taste at least for the company of certain classes ofgentlemen; at this dull time of year - no hunting going on, noshooting even - for, though she might not join in that, it wasSOMETHING to see her father or the gamekeeper go out with the dogs,and to talk with them on their return, about the different birdsthey had bagged. Now, also, she was denied the solace which thecompanionship of the coachman, grooms, horses, greyhounds, andpointers might have afforded; for her mother having,notwithstanding the disadvantages of a country life, sosatisfactorily disposed of her elder daughter, the pride of herheart had begun seriously to turn her attention to the younger;and, being truly alarmed at the roughness of her manners, andthinking it high time to work a reform, had been roused at lengthto exert her authority, and prohibited entirely the yards, stables,kennels, and coachhouse. Of course, she was not implicitly obeyed;but, indulgent as she had hitherto been, when once her spirit wasroused, her temper was not so gentle as she required that of hergovernesses to be, and her will was not to be thwarted withimpunity. After many a scene of contention between mother anddaughter, many a violent outbreak which I was ashamed to witness,in which the father's authority was often called in to confirm withoaths and threats the mother's slighted prohibitions - for even HEcould see that 'Tilly, though she would have made a fine lad, wasnot quite what a young lady ought to be' - Matilda at length foundthat her easiest plan was to keep clear of the forbidden regions;unless she could now and then steal a visit without her watchfulmother's knowledge.

Amid all this, let it not be imagined that I escaped without many areprimand, and many an implied reproach, that lost none of itssting from not being openly worded; but rather wounded the moredeeply, because, from that very reason, it seemed to preclude self-defence. Frequently, I was told to amuse Miss Matilda with otherthings, and to remind her of her mother's precepts andprohibitions. I did so to the best of my power: but she would notbe amused against her will, and could not against her taste; andthough I went beyond mere reminding, such gentle remonstrances as Icould use were utterly ineffectual.

'DEAR Miss Grey! it is the STRANGEST thing. I suppose you can'thelp it, if it's not in your nature - but I WONDER you can't winthe confidence of that girl, and make your society at LEAST asagreeable to her as that of Robert or Joseph!'

'They can talk the best about the things in which she is mostinterested,' I replied.

'Well! that is a strange confession, HOWEVER, to come from herGOVERNESS! Who is to form a young lady's tastes, I wonder, if thegoverness doesn't do it? I have known governesses who have socompletely identified themselves with the reputation of their youngladies for elegance and propriety in mind and manners, that theywould blush to speak a word against them; and to hear the slightestblame imputed to their pupils was worse than to be censured intheir own persons - and I really think it very natural, for mypart.'

'Do you, ma'am?'

'Yes, of course: the young lady's proficiency and elegance is ofmore consequence to the governess than her own, as well as to theworld. If she wishes to prosper in her vocation she must devoteall her energies to her business: all her ideas and all herambition will tend to the accomplishment of that one object. Whenwe wish to decide upon the merits of a governess, we naturally lookat the young ladies she professes to have educated, and judgeaccordingly. The JUDICIOUS governess knows this: she knows that,while she lives in obscurity herself, her pupils' virtues anddefects will be open to every eye; and that, unless she loses sightof herself in their cultivation, she need not hope for success.You see, Miss Grey, it is just the same as any other trade orprofession: they that wish to prosper must devote themselves bodyand soul to their calling; and if they begin to yield to indolenceor self-indulgence they are speedily distanced by wisercompetitors: there is little to choose between a person that ruinsher pupils by neglect, and one that corrupts them by her example.You will excuse my dropping these little hints: you know it is allfor your own good. Many ladies would speak to you much morestrongly; and many would not trouble themselves to speak at all,but quietly look out for a substitute. That, of course, would bethe EASIEST plan: but I know the advantages of a place like thisto a person in your situation; and I have no desire to part withyou, as I am sure you would do very well if you will only think ofthese things and try to exert yourself a LITTLE more: then, I amconvinced, you would SOON acquire that delicate tact which alone iswanting to give you a proper influence over the mind of yourpupil.'

I was about to give the lady some idea of the fallacy of herexpectations; but she sailed away as soon as she had concluded herspeech. Having said what she wished, it was no part of her plan toawait my answer: it was my business to hear, and not to speak.

However, as I have said, Matilda at length yielded in some degreeto her mother's authority (pity it had not been exerted before);and being thus deprived of almost every source of amusement, therewas nothing for it but to take long rides with the groom and longwalks with the governess, and to visit the cottages and farmhouseson her father's estate, to kill time in chatting with the old menand women that inhabited them. In one of these walks, it was ourchance to meet Mr. Weston. This was what I had long desired; butnow, for a moment, I wished either he or I were away: I felt myheart throb so violently that I dreaded lest some outward signs ofemotion should appear; but I think he hardly glanced at me, and Iwas soon calm enough. After a brief salutation to both, he askedMatilda if she had lately heard from her sister.

'Yes,' replied she. 'She was at Paris when she wrote, and verywell, and very happy.'

She spoke the last word emphatically, and with a glanceimpertinently sly. He did not seem to notice it, but replied, withequal emphasis, and very seriously -

'I hope she will continue to be so.'

'Do you think it likely?' I ventured to inquire: for Matilda hadstarted off in pursuit of her dog, that was chasing a leveret.

'I cannot tell,' replied he. 'Sir Thomas may be a better man thanI suppose; but, from all I have heard and seen, it seems a pitythat one so young and gay, and - and interesting, to express manythings by one word - whose greatest, if not her only fault, appearsto be thoughtlessness - no trifling fault to be sure, since itrenders the possessor liable to almost every other, and exposes himto so many temptations - but it seems a pity that she should bethrown away on such a man. It was her mother's wish, I suppose?'

'Yes; and her own too, I think, for she always laughed at myattempts to dissuade her from the step.'

'You did attempt it? Then, at least, you will have thesatisfaction of knowing that it is no fault of yours, if any harmshould come of it. As for Mrs. Murray, I don't know how she canjustify her conduct: if I had sufficient acquaintance with her,I'd ask her.'

'It seems unnatural: but some people think rank and wealth thechief good; and, if they can secure that for their children, theythink they have done their duty.'

'True: but is it not strange that persons of experience, who havebeen married themselves, should judge so falsely?' Matilda nowcame panting back, with the lacerated body of the young hare in herhand.

'Was it your intention to kill that hare, or to save it, MissMurray?' asked Mr. Weston, apparently puzzled at her gleefulcountenance.

'I pretended to want to save it,' she answered, honestly enough,'as it was so glaringly out of season; but I was better pleased tosee it lolled. However, you can both witness that I couldn't helpit: Prince was determined to have her; and he clutched her by theback, and killed her in a minute! Wasn't it a noble chase?'

'Very! for a young lady after a leveret.'

There was a quiet sarcasm in the tone of his reply which was notlost upon her; she shrugged her shoulders, and, turning away with asignificant 'Humph!' asked me how I had enjoyed the fun. I repliedthat I saw no fun in the matter; but admitted that I had notobserved the transaction very narrowly.

'Didn't you see how it doubled - just like an old hare? and didn'tyou hear it scream?'

'I'm happy to say I did not.'

'It cried out just like a child.'

'Poor little thing! What will you do with it?'

'Come along - I shall leave it in the first house we come to. Idon't want to take it home, for fear papa should scold me forletting the dog kill it.'

Mr. Weston was now gone, and we too went on our way; but as wereturned, after having deposited the hare in a farm-house, anddemolished some spice-cake and currant-wine in exchange, we met himreturning also from the execution of his mission, whatever it mightbe. He carried in his hand a cluster of beautiful bluebells, whichhe offered to me; observing, with a smile, that though he had seenso little of me for the last two months, he had not forgotten thatblue-bells were numbered among my favourite flowers. It was doneas a simple act of goodwill, without compliment or remarkablecourtesy, or any look that could be construed into 'reverential,tender adoration' (VIDE Rosalie Murray); but still, it wassomething to find my unimportant saying so well remembered: it wassomething that he had noticed so accurately the time I had ceasedto be visible.

'I was told,' said he, 'that you were a perfect bookworm, MissGrey: so completely absorbed in your studies that you were lost toevery other pleasure.'

'Yes, and it's quite true!' cried Matilda.

'No, Mr. Weston: don't believe it: it's a scandalous libel.These young ladies are too fond of making random assertions at theexpense of their friends; and you ought to be careful how youlisten to them.'

'I hope THIS assertion is groundless, at any rate.'

'Why? Do you particularly object to ladies studying?'

'No; but I object to anyone so devoting himself or herself tostudy, as to lose sight of everything else. Except under peculiarcircumstances, I consider very close and constant study as a wasteof time, and an injury to the mind as well as the body.'

'Well, I have neither the time nor the inclination for suchtransgressions.'

We parted again.

Well! what is there remarkable in all this? Why have I recordedit? Because, reader, it was important enough to give me a cheerfulevening, a night of pleasing dreams, and a morning of felicitoushopes. Shallow-brained cheerfulness, foolish dreams, unfoundedhopes, you would say; and I will not venture to deny it:suspicions to that effect arose too frequently in my own mind. Butour wishes are like tinder: the flint and steel of circumstancesare continually striking out sparks, which vanish immediately,unless they chance to fall upon the tinder of our wishes; then,they instantly ignite, and the flame of hope is kindled in amoment.

But alas! that very morning, my flickering flame of hope wasdismally quenched by a letter from my mother, which spoke soseriously of my father's increasing illness, that I feared therewas little or no chance of his recovery; and, close at hand as theholidays were, I almost trembled lest they should come too late forme to meet him in this world. Two days after, a letter from Marytold me his life was despaired of, and his end seemed fastapproaching. Then, immediately, I sought permission to anticipatethe vacation, and go without delay. Mrs. Murray stared, andwondered at the unwonted energy and boldness with which I urged therequest, and thought there was no occasion to hurry; but finallygave me leave: stating, however, that there was 'no need to be insuch agitation about the matter - it might prove a false alarmafter all; and if not - why, it was only in the common course ofnature: we must all die some time; and I was not to suppose myselfthe only afflicted person in the world;' and concluding with sayingI might have the phaeton to take me to O-. 'And instead ofREPINING, Miss Grey, be thankful for the PRIVILEGES you enjoy.There's many a poor clergyman whose family would be plunged intoruin by the event of his death; but you, you see, have influentialfriends ready to continue their patronage, and to show you everyconsideration.'

I thanked her for her 'consideration,' and flew to my room to makesome hurried preparations for my departure. My bonnet and shawlbeing on, and a few things hastily crammed into my largest trunk, Idescended. But I might have done the work more leisurely, for noone else was in a hurry; and I had still a considerable time towait for the phaeton. At length it came to the door, and I wasoff: but, oh, what a dreary journey was that! how utterlydifferent from my former passages homewards! Being too late forthe last coach to -, I had to hire a cab for ten miles, and then acar to take me over the rugged hills.

It was half-past ten before I reached home. They were not in bed.

My mother and sister both met me in the passage - sad - silent -pale! I was so much shocked and terror-stricken that I could notspeak, to ask the information I so much longed yet dreaded toobtain.

'Agnes!' said my mother, struggling to repress some strong emotion.

'Oh, Agnes!' cried Mary, and burst into tears.

'How is he?' I asked, gasping for the answer.

'Dead!'

It was the reply I had anticipated: but the shock seemed none theless tremendous.