anics' Institutes,' said Rupert; 'that
is the reason Anne respects her so much.'

'I advise you to throw no stones at her, Sir,' said Sir Edward; 'it
would be well if some people of my acquaintance were as upright in
acknowledging deficiencies in themselves, as she is.'

'Besides, I cannot see that Helen is conceited,' said Anne; 'if she
was, she would not be made unhappy by other people's criticisms.'

'Helen wants a just estimate of herself,' said Lady Merton; 'she cares
more for what people say of what she does, than whether it is good in
itself.'

'But, Anne,' said Sir Edward, 'why do not you claim to be the only
person in the world devoid of conceit?'

'Because I am conceited in all the ways which Rupert has mentioned,'
said Anne; 'I believe myself witty, and wise, and amiable, and useful,
and agreeable, and I do not like taking advice, and I am very angry
when my friends are abused, and I do believe I think I have the most
exquisite brother in the world; and besides, if I said I was not
conceited it would be the best possible proof of the contrary.--But,
Mamma, there is a person whom we have not mentioned, who has no conceit
and plenty of self-control.'

'Do you mean little Dora?' said Lady Merton.

'No, not Dora, though I am pretty much of Mrs. Woodbourne's opinion
respecting her,' said Anne; 'I meant one who is always overlooked, Miss
Lucy Hazleby.'

'She may have every virtue upon earth for aught I know,' said Rupert;
'I can only testify that she has un grand talent pour le silence.'

'I only know her from what my cousins told me,' said Anne; 'they seem
to have a great respect for her, though Helen is the only person she
ever seems to talk to. I never could make her speak three words to me.'

'She has a fine countenance and very sweet expression, certainly,' said
Lady Merton.

'Poor girl,' said Sir Edward; 'she blushes so much, that it was almost
painful to look at her.'

'You seem to be utterly deficient in proofs of her excellence,' said
Rupert; 'you will leave her a blank page at last.'

'Pages are not always blank when you see nothing on them,' said Lady
Merton; 'characters may be brought out by the fire.'

'Yes, Mamma, the fire of temptation,' said Anne; 'and I have heard Lucy
tried by her mother's violence, and she never concealed any part of the
truth as far as only regarded herself, even to avoid those terrible
unjust reproofs, and put herself forward to bear her sister's share of
bla