young man, having hitherto fulfilled the hopes and
answered the cares of his fond and anxious mother. He had already reaped
laurels at school and college, and his enlightened and liberal views,
and generous, enthusiastic mind, gave earnest of a career alike
honourable and useful. In person and features, though both were
agreeable, he did not much resemble his mother; but he had the same
large, soft, thoughtful eyes, the same outward tranquillity of demeanour
hiding the same earnest spirit. At present he was silent, and seemed
meditative. Mrs. Beauchamp gazed at him long and fondly, and as she
gazed, her mother's heart swelled with love and pride, and her eyes
glistened with heartfelt joy. At last she remarked, "I hope the
Sharpes's new governess is as nice a person as the old one."

"Oh, much nicer!" cried Edmund suddenly, and as if awakening from a
reverie.

"Indeed! I used to think Miss Smith a very nice person."

"Oh, so she was--very good-natured and obliging; but Miss Dalton is
altogether a different sort of person."

"I wonder you never told me you found her so agreeable."

"I--Oh, I did not----That is, you never asked me."

"Is she young?"

"Yes--not much above twenty I should think."

"Is she pretty?"

"I--I don't exactly know," he said, hesitating and colouring; "I
suppose--most persons----I should think she is." "How foolish I am!"
thought Edmund. "What will my mother think of all this?" He then
continued in a more composed manner--"She is a very excellent girl at
least. She is the daughter of a London merchant--a remarkably honourable
man--who has been ruined by these bad times; and though brought up in
luxury, and with the expectation of large fortune, she has conformed to
her circumstances in the most cheerful manner, and supports, it seems,
with the fruits of her talents and industry, two little sisters at
school. The Sharpes are all so fond of her, and she is the greatest
favorite imaginable with the children." Edmund spoke with unwonted
warmth. His mother looked at him half-sympathisingly, half-anxiously.
She seemed about to speak, when the sound of carriage wheels, and the
loud knock of a footman at the hall-door, announced the arrival of the
Sharpes, and Mrs. Beauchamp and her son hastened into the hall to
welcome their guests. Mrs. Beauchamp's eye sought for the stranger,
partly because she was a stranger, and partly from the interest in her
her son's conversation had created. But Miss Dal