meeting. Martha said she "would not go to hear Deacon Barton's everlasting prayers; she had heard so many of them, she knew them all by heart."

Elvira had just got possession, by stealth, of a new novel; that species of reading being absolutely prohibited in Mrs. Wilson's house, she had crept up to the garret, and was promising herself a long afternoon of stolen pleasure. “Oh, Jane," said she, "why can't you go down and tell mother you can't find me. Just tell her, you guess I have gone down to Miss Banker's, to inquire whether the tracts have come; that's a good thought;" and she was resuming her book, when seeing Jane did not move, she added, "I'll do as much for you any time."

"I shall never wish you to do as much for me, Elvira." "I do not think it is so very much, just to go down stairs; besides, Jane," she added, imperiously, "Mother says, you must do whatever we ask you to."

Elvira was so habituated to deceit, that it never occurred to her, that the falsehood was the difficult part of the errand to Jane; and when Jane said, "Cousin Elvira, I will do whatever is reasonable for you, and no more; any thing that is true, I will tell your mother for you," Elvira laughed in derision.

"Pooh, Jane, you have brought your strict notions to a poor market. It was easy enough to get along with the truth with your mother, because she would let you have your own way on all occasions; but I can tell you, disguises are the only wear in our camp!"

"I shall not use them, Elvira. I should dread their being stripped off."

Oh, not at all. Mother seldom takes the trouble to inquire into it; and if she does, now and then, by accident,

detect it, the storm soon blows over. She has caught me in many a white lie, and black one too, and she has not been half so angry as when I have torn my frock, or lost a glove. Why, child, if you are going to fight your battles with mother with plain truth, you will find yourself without shield or buckler."

"Ah, Elvira!" replied Jane, smiling,

"That's no battle, ev'ry body knows,

Where one side only gives the blows."

"That's true enough, Jane. Well, if you will not help me off from the conference, I must go. Sweet Vivaldi," said she, kissing her book, and carefully hiding it in a dark corner of the garret, "must I part with thee?"

"One would think," said Jane, "you were parting with your lover."

"I am, my dear. I always fancy, when I read a novel, that I am the heroine, and the hero is one of my favourites; and then I realize it all, and it appears so natural.”

Elvira was not, at heart, an ill-natured girl; but having a weak understanding, and rather a fearful, unresisting temper, she had been driven by her mother's mode of treatment into the practice of deceit; and she being the weaker party, used in her warfare as many arts as a savage practises towards a civilized enemy. A small stock of original invention may be worked up into a vast deal of cunning. Elvira had been sent one quarter to a distant boarding-school, where her name had attracted a young lady, whose head had been turned by love-stories. They had formed a league of eternal friendship, which might have a six months' duration; and Elvira had returned to her home, at the age of sixteen, with a farrago of romance superadded to her home-bred duplicity.

Martha was two years older than her sister, and more like her mother violent and self-willed, she openly resisted her mother's authority, whenever it opposed her wishes. such companions, Jane soon found she had nothing to expect of improvement or pleasure; but, though it may seem quite incredible to some, she was not unhappy. The very labour her aunt imposed on her was converted into a blessing, for it occupied her mind, and saved her from brooding on the happy past, or the unhappy present. She now found exercise for the domestic talents Mary had so skilfully cultivated. Even the unrelenting Mrs. Wilson was once heard to say, with some apparent pleasure, that "Jane was gifted at all sorts of work." Her dexterous hand was often put in requisition by her idle and slatternly cousins, and their favour was sometimes won by her kind offices. But more than all, and above all, as a source of contentment and cheerfulnessbetter far than ever was boasted of perennial springs, or Amreeta cups of immortality"-was Jane's unfailing habit of regulating her daily life by the sacred rules of our blessed Lord. She would steal from her bed at the dawn of day, when the songs of the birds were interpreting the stillness of nature, and beauty and fragrance breathing incense to the Maker, and join her devotions to the choral praise. At this hour she studied the word of truth and life, and a holy beam of light fell from it on her path through the day. Her pleasures at this social period of her life were almost all solitary, except when she was indulged in a visit to Mary, whose eye was continually watching over her with maternal kindness. The gayety of her childhood had been so sadly checked by the change of her fortunes, that her countenance had taken rather a serious and reserved cast. Mr. Lloyd's benevolent feelings were awakened by her appearance; and Mary, whose

chief delight was in expatiating on the character of her favourite, took care to confirm his favourable impressions, by setting in the broadest light her former felicity, her present trials, and her patience in tribulation.

Mary had orders to leave the furniture in a little room that had formerly been assigned to Jane, precisely as she left it, and to tell Jane that it was still called, and should be considered her room.

"And that beautiful honeysuckle, Jane," said Mr. Lloyd to her, "which thy tasteful hand has so carefully trained about the window, is still thine."

These, and many other instances of delicate attention from Mr. Lloyd, saved her from the feeling of forlornness that she might otherwise have suffered.

CHAPTER V.

"I am for other, than for dancing measures."

AS YOU LIKE IT.

A FEW months after Jane entered her aunt's family, an unusual commotion had been produced in the village of by an event of rare occurrence. This was no less than the arrival of a dancing-master, and the issuing of proposals for a dancing-school.

This was regarded by some very zealous persons as a ruse de guerre of the old Adversary, which, if not successfully opposed, would end in the establishment of his kingdom.

The plan of the disciple of Vestris, was to establish a chain of dancing-schools from one extremity of the country to the other; and this was looked upon as a mine which would be sprung to the certain destruction of every thing that was 'virtuous and of good report.' Some clergymen denounced the impending sin from their pulpits. One said, that he had searched the Bible from Genesis to Revelation, and as he could not find a text that expressly rebuked that enormity, he was confirmed in a previous opinion that it was included in all general denunciations of sin! he said that dancing was