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"Well, I suppose they will not all be hung!" remarked the same gentleman that had before spoken.

"I did not say they would all come to the gallows," said Mr. Everard, "I said they would be fit for the gallows." "Well," returned the other, "you know Hamlet "says, 'Use every man after his desert, and who shall 'scape whipping?""

Whipping's not hanging," replied Mr. Everard, "I said nothing against whipping.

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"But do you not think, Sir," pursued Miss Newmarsh, “human nature is so prone to evil that if we can keep the seeds of evil from springing up we are doing great things?" "How do weeds grow in a garden?"

"They come up.

"Of themselves?"

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"If you shut up earth in a box, will weeds spring up?" "I suppose not."

"And I suppose not, madam, but open that box to the air, and weeds will spring up, as readily as-aye, perhaps more readily, than in the open field; so with the hearts of these young people: bring them in contact with the world and the world's temptations, evils will spring up, and they will have less root in themselves, than many, who, on the old system, have been tried in their own little world, and have, weed by weed, plucked out each as it appeared.'

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"But how few have done that!" remarked Miss Newmarsh.

"None ever can on your system, madam, because you will not give them the opportunity."

"But do you not think, Sir," continued Miss Newmarsh, "if we can keep boys from the evil example of others, we are bound to do so?"

"Madam," cried Mr. Everard, in rather an elevated tone, “you talk like a foolish mother.”

"Which I am not," said the lady.

"Madam," continued Mr. Everard, "I did not say that you were a foolish mother, I said you talked like one. He then took a seat next Mrs. Leslie, and hoped the fair Grace was not to be brought up under any new systems; adding,

he need scarcely ask, since she had not a foolish mother to fight against common sense and the established maxims of wisdom. Mrs. Leslie laughed, and said her little girl was indebted to having a mother not clever enough to devise or follow any new or original plans. The conversation now became less general.

CHAPTER VIII.

Within her gilded cage,

I saw a dazzling Belle,
A parrot of that famous kind
Whose name was Nonpareil.
Wordsworth.

We must now take a view of what has been going on in the other room since dinner-time. The young people had scarcely discussed the scenes that passed at dinner, before their expected guests began to arrive. The Duffs were

first. Grace thought the twins so alike, and so like Mary Anne, that she should never know any of them apart; they all had very dark smooth hair, which was braided close to the face, and though all so young, their hair behind was tied up. Still they looked like children; they had good complexions, with a rather high colour, and were every where called 66 very fine young ladies.' The twins were much slighter than Mary Anne, and in this respect they became less alike every day. When they came to be known, Fanny was certainly the prettiest and most delicate of the three. Mary Anne, if she had not been under control, with, on her own part, a great fear of displeasing, would have been thought rather bold. Charlotte looked more than only one year younger than her two sisters. There was a family likeness, but her effect was very different; her hair was two shades lighter, and from an invincible propensity to curl, the attempt of dressing it like the others was at length given up, very much against Miss Newmarsh's wishes. It always looked so rough and untidy next theirs, that her mamma said she could bear it no longer. It was, therefore, cut short again, and allowed to take its own course. James Edward, as he was always called, because his papa's name was James, was quite young, and he took his place among

the small ones, who had bricks and other amusements in one corner of the room. The conversation continued in the same strain, as soon as the new guests had got settled.

"Oh," cried George to his cousins, "how I wish you had dined with us-we had such fun!" and he began to take off several of the company-their bows, their ways, their tone of voice; especially Mrs. Russell, who, he said, could not say "bo to a goose. "He called her 66 a poor body," and some other names. Grace felt more and more uncomfortable as he went on, particularly when he took off her courtesy. She found she could not laugh, though it was all very like, and she had always laughed before; she felt very uneasy. George then began upon Sir Richard Freemantle, whom he called "the Alderman," though he was not one; he seized his sister's fan, and a paper-cutter on the inkstand, drew a china card-basket before him, and showed how Sir Richard ate and drank. Grace still could not join in the laugh. Emily remarked it this time, and said that Mr. Everard had frightened Grace out of her wits, and she did not wonder at it. "Oh, no!" said Grace, “I had quite forgotten Mr. Everard."

"Then what's the matter?"

Grace was silent, felt very awkward, and stared in Emily's face. "Now, what's the matter ?" repeated George, "what makes you look so? you shall tell, for you look almost as stupid as Constance," said he, looking towards his cousin, who was still arranging the little ones in the corner of the room. "What were you thinking of? we will know!"

Grace replied, with a feeling that her thought might be very silly, "I was thinking perhaps Sir Richard Freemantle might be very kind."

66

Very kind!" cried George, "well I dare say he is, but what then?"

"I thought perhaps as kind as Mrs. Russell," said Grace. "What do you know of Mrs. Russell?" asked Emily.

"I never saw her before," replied Grace, "but going down stairs I trod on her dress, and she turned to me and smiled, and spoke so kindly, and I thought she looked for a moment like my aunt Stanley."

“Well, but what has all this to do with Sir Richard Freemantle and his dinner?" said George, "you disturbed himhe had not half finished." He attempted to go on, but the

"

young party had received a damp, and only a faint laugh ensued. George threw up his knife and fork, and said, very much provoked, "What flats you all are! and as for you, Grace, you have become almost as sanctimonious as Constance; I think the sight of her has bewitched you,” added he, as Constance drew near.

"How you have been laughing!" cried she, "I can't think, George, how you always can go on so.

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Why we meet to laugh, don't we?" asked he. "No," said she, disdainfully.

"Well, what do we meet for, then? you won't let us dance, or play at cards, and now you won't let us laugh!" "Oh, no," said she, "I wouldn't prevent your laughing, but we don't meet to laugh."

"Well, what do we meet for, my sage cousin ?"

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Why, every body knows that," replied she, hesitating a little.

"No, I don't," said George.

"Oh, George,” cried several, "I'm sure you do.”

"I know what I think we meet for," said George, "but not what she thinks; but I must examine;" then assuming a grave look, and pretending to settle his spectacles, he asked, my sapient young lady, do we meet for business?" "No."

"Do we meet for pleasure?"

• "No ;—yes you do, I suppose.

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"Well, but yourself?" persisted George.

"Oh, I don't care about it."

“Well, then,” said George, "to come to the point at once, what do you think we ought to meet for ?"

"Why for edification," replied Constance, gravely.

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Wheugh," cried George, with a whistle, "there!" motioning to Grace and Constance, "you two may go together, you will suit very well, I fancy-we meet for pleasure, you sanctimonious young ladies, for edification," and he drew his face down to a prodigious length, and made all laugh but Constance, who remained quite silent and still. George was satisfied, having raised a laugh again.

"Here comes Reginald Freemantle," cried Emily; "I am so glad you have come to us, I have been watching you some time."

"Well, youngsters," said he, shaking hands and greeting

them all, while the small ones left their corner, "what can I do for

you ?"

"Oh, any thing you like will do any thing you like," cried several voices, while George took him aside, and proposed a trial on Miss Newmarsh's reward system.

"No! no!" said Reginald, good-naturedly, "I'll have nothing to do with that.”

"But why not?" asked George, "it will be such fun! why not?"

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"Because I don't choose, my good fellow," said Reginald. He then mixed with the rest, and all were soon deeply engaged settling the preliminaries of a new amusement he was teaching them. It was a French game, called "Mufti." Reginald was to be Mufti, and when he said, "Mufti fait comme ci," all the rest were to do as he did. When he said Mufti fait comme ça," they were to do nothing, and stand still. Those who failed were put aside, and he called them "dead men." Just as they were practising, Isabella Ward entered their room, and walked slowly towards the merry group. "Here's bouncing B.," cried George, "she shall play! Come, Belle, here's a famous new game, come, you must play."

"George, you're very rude; I shall not.”

“Oh, it's the best fun in the world; if he says' Mufti fait commi ci,' and hops, we must all hop; and if he hops all round the room, we must all follow; and if he wags his fingers or head, we must do the same; it's the best fun in the world, we've been trying it."

“Well, I'll look at you, children, but I shall not play,” answered his cousin.

Here Reginald came forward and explained the game. He said that he was Mufti, and that he was used to the office, and had had the honour of leading many young ladies; that he would promise her he would not make her jump over the moon, or do any impossibilities. But Miss Ward was not persuaded by the persuasive Reginald's handsome face; she wished it all the time, and if the folding doors had been shut, perhaps it would have been different ;-so much does dignity cost.

"Well," said George, maliciously, "certainly your satins, and pearls, and flummery, don't look very fit for a game of romps."

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