wran,--to fall, as it
were, into the arms of luxury,--to be treated, as she knew she would
be, by Clarissa, as an equal, even in worldly matters, would be only
to unfit her for the routine that of necessity must follow. So she
abstains, and flings far from her all thought of a happiness that
would indeed be real, as Clarissa had been dear to her two years ago;
and to be dear to Georgie once would mean to be dear to her forever.

The vicar himself opens the door for Clarissa, and tells her Miss
Broughton has arrived, and will no doubt be overjoyed to see her.

"What a fairy you have given us!" he says, laughing. "Such a
bewildering child; all golden hair, and sweet dark eyes, and mourning
raiments. We are perplexed--indeed, I may say, dazed--at her
appearance; because we have one and all fallen in love with
her,--hopelessly, irretrievably,--and hardly know how to conduct
ourselves towards her with the decorum that I have been taught to
believe should be shown to the instructress of one's children. Now,
the last young woman was so different, and--"

"Young," says Miss Peyton.

"Well, old, if you like it. She certainly, poor soul, did remind one
of the 'sere and yellow.' But this child is all fire and life; and
really," says the vicar, with a sigh that may be relief, "I think we
all like it better; she is quite a break-in upon our monotony."

"I am so glad you all like her;" says Clarissa, quite beaming with
satisfaction. "She was such a dear little thing when last I saw her;
so gentle, too,--like a small mouse."

"Oh, was she?" says the vicar, anxiously. "She is changed a little, I
think. To me she is rather terrifying. Now, for instance, this morning
at breakfast, she asked me, before the children, 'if I didn't find
writing sermons a bore.' And when I said--as I was in duty bound to
say, my dear Clarissa--that I did not, she laughed out quite merrily,
and said she 'didn't believe me'! Need I say the children were in
raptures? but I could have borne that, only, when Mrs. Redmond forsook
me and actually laughed too, I felt the end of all things was come.
Clarissa," (severely), "I do hope I don't see you laughing, too."

"Oh, no!--not--not much," says Miss Peyton, who is plainly enjoying
the situation to its utmost. "It is very hard on you, of course."

"Well, it is," says the vicar, with his broad and rather handsome
smile, that works such miracles in the parish and among the mining
people, who look upon him as th