I retired to bed, and smiling, almost laughing, at the half
terror of my countenance expressed, for I fancied she had come to
reprove the wild spirits I had indulged in throughout the day, she said,
"Is not this little head half turned with the flattery it has received
to-day?"

"No," I instantly replied. "It is only the approbation of one or two
that can put me in any danger of such a misfortune."

"Indeed," she answered, again smiling; "I fancied it was the fine
speeches you had been hearing to-day that had excited such high spirits,
but I am glad it is not; otherwise, I might have hesitated to express
what I came here to do--my approbation of my Emmeline's conduct the last
few months."

I felt my colour rising to my very temples, dear Mary, for I did not
expect this, but I endeavoured to conceal all I felt by seizing her
hand, and imploring her, in a serio-comic, semi-tragic tone, not to
praise me, for she and papa were the two whose praises would have the
effect on me she feared.

"But you must endeavour to keep your head steady now," she continued,
"because papa sends a packet to Oakwood next week, and a long letter for
Mary from my Emmeline must accompany it; her patience, I think, must be
very nearly exhausted, and I know if you once begin to write, a frank
will not contain all you will have to say, will it?" she added, with an
arch but such a dear smile.

All my high spirits seemed for the moment to desert me, and I could not
answer her, except to cover her hand with kisses. I have told you what
she said in the way of reproof and advice, my dear Mary, but I cannot
coolly write all she said as encouragement and praise; it was much more
than I deserved, and all, therefore, that I can do, is to continue my
endeavours to feel one day rather more to merit it. I have risen every
morning an hour earlier, that I might tell you all I wished without
encroaching on my allotted hours of study; for I hope you will not
imagine I have written all this in one or two, or even three sittings;
and now do I not deserve a letter almost as long from you? If you do not
thus reward me, dread my vengeance, and write soon, for I long to have a
letter from you; of you I have heard often--but of and from, though
they may be both brothers of the family of the prepositions, are very
different in meaning. I have not written one word of Caroline or Ellen.
Am I not incurably egotistical? The former declares she is sure you will
have no t