in fact, she had, personally, but a very slight
acquaintance with him, and was "quite sure she should not recognize
him, if she were to see him now";--as for his little girls, she had
never seen them, nor even heard their names. But Mr. Osgood's
character was of the very highest, and she rejoiced that Madeline
would have so honorable, influential, and generous a protector, who
had given his word that she should be received and entertained with
the consideration due to a superior and esteemed friend.

[Never mind Miss Wimple's white lies, my dear; there is no danger
that they will be found filling the blank place in the Recording
Angel's book, left where his tear blotted out My Uncle Toby's oath.
And in a purely worldly point of view, too, those touching offerings
to Mercy were safe enough; for when Miss Wimple promised Madeline
that she would find Mr. Osgood "a singularly discreet person, who
would be sure not to annoy her with impertinent curiosity," it was
not said by way of a hint;--she well knew, that, from the moment the
proud and jealous Madeline departed across the threshold of the
Hendrik Athenaeum and Circulating Library, she would set a close and
solemn seal upon her heart and upon her lips, and the "old familiar
faces" and places would be to her as the things that Memory is a
silent widow for. Nevertheless, in writing to Mr. Osgood, to
acknowledge the receipt of the check, and to thank him, that cunning
Miss Wimple took the precaution to put him in possession of as much
of _her_ personality as would serve his purpose in case of accident,
and provide for the chance of a shock to his suspicious and vigilant
governess.]

Madeline received Miss Wimple's extraordinary good news with the
silence of one bewildered. Nor even when she had come fully to
appreciate all the beauty and the joy of it, did she give audible
expression to her gratitude; she was too proud--or rather say, too
religious--to subject the divine emotion to the vulgar ordeal of
words; she only kissed Miss Wimple's hands, and mutely laid them on
her bosom.

Then Miss Wimple arrayed her _protegee_ in the skimped delaine, for
which the "trifling alterations" and the "little cleaning" _had_
done wonders,--and Madeline was, as it were, "clothed on with
chastity." And Miss Wimple was jubilant over the charming effect,
and "went on" in a manner surprising to behold. First she kissed
Madeline, and then she kissed the dress; and she told Madeline, in a