rself, Ethel had drawn up a beautiful time-table, with all her
pursuits and duties most carefully balanced, after the pattern of that
which Margaret Rivers had made by her advice, on the departure of Mrs.
Larpent, who had been called away by the ill-health of her son. Meta had
adhered to hers in an exemplary manner, but she was her own mistress in
a manner that could hardly be the lot of one of a large family.

Margaret had become subject to languor and palpitations, and the head
of the household had fallen entirely upon Flora, who, on the other hand,
was a person of multifarious occupations, and always had a great number
of letters to write, or songs to copy and practise, which, together with
her frequent visits to Mrs. Hoxton, made her glad to devolve, as much as
she could, upon her younger sister; and, "Oh, Ethel, you will not mind
just doing this for me," was said often enough to be a tax upon her
time.

Moreover, Ethel perceived that Aubrey's lessons were in an
unsatisfactory state. Margaret could not always attend to them, and
suffered from them when she did; and he was bandied about between his
sisters and Miss Bracy in a manner that made him neither attentive nor
obedient.

On her own principle, that to embrace a task heartily renders it no
longer irksome, she called on herself to sacrifice her studies and
her regularity, as far as was needful, to make her available for home
requirements. She made herself responsible for Aubrey, and, after a
few battles with his desultory habits, made him a very promising
pupil, inspiring so much of herself into him, that he was, if anything,
overfull of her classical tastes. In fact, he had such an appetite for
books, and dealt so much in precocious wisdom, that his father was heard
to say, "Six years old! It is a comfort that he will soon forget the
whole."

Gertrude was also Ethel's pupil, but learning was not at all in her
line; and the sight of "Cobwebs to catch Flies," or of the venerated
"Little Charles," were the most serious clouds, that made the Daisy
pucker up her face, and infuse a whine into her voice.

However, to-day, as usual, she was half dragged, half coaxed, through
her day's portion of the discipline of life, and then sent up for her
sleep, while Aubrey's two hours were spent in more agreeable work, such
as Margaret could not but enjoy hearing--so spirited was Ethel's mode of
teaching--so eager was her scholar.

His play afterwards consisted in fightin