h sighing and saying that such talk gave her other fears for Emma.
She dreaded that Miss Marstone was unsettled in her allegiance to her
Church, and that her power over Emma was infusing into her her own
doubts.

'It is very sad--very strange! I cannot understand it,' said Theodora.
'I had always believed that such innocence and lowliness as Emma and
Violet have was a guard against all snares; yet here is Emma led astray
by these very excellences!'

'My dear,' said Lady Elizabeth, 'I think it is the want of that
lowliness that is at the root with my poor child. It is a dangerous
thing for a girl to throw herself into an exclusive friendship,
especially when the disapproval of her own family is felt. I tried, but
I never could like Theresa Marstone; and now I see that she liked to
govern Emma, and depreciated my judgment--very justly, perhaps; but
still I was her mother, and it was not kind to teach her to think doing
as I wished a condescension.'

'So Emma sold all her senses to her friend?'

'Yes, and Miss Marstone keeps them still. Theresa taught her to think
herself wiser than all, and their own way of talking the proof of
goodness.'

'Ay! their passwords.'

'Just so, and I do believe it was that kind of vanity that took from her
her power of discerning and the instinctive shrinking from evil.'

'It is very easy to make simplicity silliness,' said Theodora. 'I beg
your pardon, Lady Elizabeth, I did not mean to blame her, but I was
thinking how truly you spoke.'

'And now, may I ask to see Mrs. Martindale; or will it be too much for
her?'

'She will be glad, but she was tired with coming down to Lord St. Erme.
And now, Arthur's bad night! Oh! Lady Elizabeth, you come from your
griefs to ours. It is a shame to make you share them!'

'I do not think so,' said Lady Elizabeth. 'There is a tract of Hannah
More's showing that to bear another's burden lightens our own; and all
old people will tell you that many troubles together weigh less heavily
than a single one.'

Theodora could not think so; each of her cares seemed to make the
others worse, till the mere toil and vexation of Helen's lessons became
serious; and yet, when the children were dismissed for their walk, she
felt unable to profit by her leisure, otherwise than by sighing at the
prospect of missing the power of looking in at Arthur from hour to hour.
She had not roused herself to occupation, when, to her dismay, Lord St.
Erme was admitted. She be