child to the
care of one who promised, in the sincerity of her passion, to be a
mother to the unfortunate infant. And during the eighteen years of
that girl's life, from the hour of her mother's death to the day
when she was left without hope in the world, Rosalie _had_ found a
parent in the rigid but always kind and just Mary Melville.

This widow lady had one son; he was four years old when her husband
died, which was the very year that the little Rosalie was brought to
Melville House. The boy's father had been considered a man of great
wealth, but when his affairs were settled, after his decease, it was
found that the debts of the estate being paid, little more than a
competency remained for the widow. But the lady was fitted, by a
life of self-discipline, even in her luxurious home, to calmly meet
this emergency. With the remnant of an imagined fortune, she retired
to an humbler residence, where, in quiet retirement, she gave her
time to managing household affairs, and superintending the home
education of the children.

Her son Duncan, and the young Rosalie, had grown up together, until
the girl's twelfth birth-day, constant playmates and pupils in the
same school. No one, not even the busiest busy-body, had ever been
able to detect the slightest partiality in Mrs. Melville's treatment
of her children; and, indeed, it had been quite impossible that she
should ever regard a child so winningly beautiful as Rosalie, with
other than the tenderest affection. Under a light and careless rein,
the girl had been a difficult one to manage, for there was a light
little fire in her eyes, that told of strong will and deep passions;
and besides, her striking appearance had won sufficient admiration
to have completely spoiled her, if a guardian the most vigilant as
well as most discerning, had not been ever at hand to speak the
right word to and do the right thing with her.

Mrs. Melville was a thoroughly religious woman, and seriously
conscious of the responsibility she incurred in adopting the infant.
She could not quiet her conscience with the reflection that she had
done a wonderfully good thing in giving Rosalie a home and
education; the chief pity she felt for the unfortunate orphan, led
her to exercise an uncommon care, that all tendency to evil should
be eradicated from the heart of the brilliant girl while she was yet
young; that a sense of right, such as should prove abiding, might be
impressed on her tender mind. A