A little time after the discovery of the letter Miss Vincent returned
home to her mamma, who had been some time seriously indisposed; and, to
the great joy of Mrs. Adair, the following week Miss Russel left the
school, to accompany her parents to the Continent.
"Now we shall go on pleasantly," said Mrs. Adair to her daughters; "the
only two disagreeable girls we had under our care are removed: and if
ever I have another of a similar description, I will send her home
immediately, whatever be the consequence."
Mrs. Adair's mind, at the time she said this, was a little irritated,
for she had heard something particularly unpleasant respecting the
conduct of her late pupils. She now resolved to be strict in future;
never allow the young ladies to be alone, even in the play-ground, nor
permit them to spend an hour from the school between the vacations,
except by the express desire of parents in particular cases.
When the young ladies heard there would be no half-day holydays between
the vacations, there was a general consternation amongst them. Some
murmured, and others were satisfied that Mrs. Adair must have good
reason for her proceeding. When Miss Bruce heard the new rule, she said
to Isabella Vincent, "I never knew such a thing! Not visit this half
year! And my Aunt promised to take me to the exhibition, and Miss
Linwood's works, and I don't know where! I never knew any thing so
provoking! But I will be revenged, that I will!"
"And what will you do?" asked Isabella; "what do you mean by revenge? I
am sure it is something very wrong."
"It is only making others feel as well as ourselves, that's all."
"But if they vex us, why should we vex them? I know I always feel sorry
when I have made people angry."
"Don't talk to me--I will write such a theme!"
"Ah, Miss Bruce! mamma says we should never do wrong."
"I wish you would not mention your mamma, for it is a very ugly word."
"O, Miss Bruce, I never heard such a thing!"
"I once loved it dearly," said Miss Bruce, in a softened tone. "Those
were happy days! I can fancy I see somebody now, sitting up in bed, with
her nice white cap, so pale, and so pretty; and somebody kneeling by
her, and praying for her, and blessing her. But all would not do, to
save one I loved!" Here tears trickled from her eyes: but she suddenly
recollected herself; "I must not think of it; it is over, and for ever
gone! And now for my theme."
"Poor Miss Bruce," said Isabella, in a soothing tone, "I wish you were
my sister, and then you would have my mamma, and she would love you so!"
"And do you think I would give up some one, for all the mammas in the
world! No, no--there is no one like him. But I will mortify Mrs. Adair,
that I will! To think that I must not go to my Aunt's on Thursday! And
there will be my cousins, and Edward Warner, and Margaret James, and
some one who is worth them all; though I don't talk of him as you talk
of your Papa."
After musing a few minutes, with her pencil in her hand, and her head
resting upon a slate, she joyfully exclaimed, "I have it, I have it
indeed!"
"And what have you got?" cried Isabella, as she sprang from her seat,
and looked over Miss Bruce's shoulder.
"Only my ideas; neither apples nor plums. But I wish you would not wipe
my face with your curls. I have got the clue to my fable; I will have
Mrs. Adair, and I think your papa too."
"I am sure you never shall: you never saw papa!"
"Indeed Miss Isabella, you are quite mistaken; I have seen him in shop
windows, in magazines, and I am certain he is in a fine gilt frame in
our study."
"I wish people would not take such liberties. Papa has no business to
be in windows, and other people's frames."
"Why, don't you know that only great writers, and great fighters, and
very good men, and very bad men, are noticed that way! If your papa was
not good as well as great, he would not be fixed in our house, unless in
the servant's room, with Jemmy and Sandy, and the Storm, and Auld Robin
Grey. Whatever you may think, it is a very great honour to be noticed by
somebody that I could name."
"I have not any thing to do with honour," cried Isabella, "and talking
of things I don't know."
"Hush! don't speak! Can't you see that I am busy. I wish I knew what
people do when they have great books to write. My thoughts jumble so
together, I can't tell what to make of them; it is sad teasing work."
"If Caroline was here, she could tell you what to write."
"And do you think that I should ask a dunce? If I could but begin, I
know I could go on." Here Miss Bruce considered a little. "I must think
of my thoughts: no, I must write them down."
"O, Miss Bruce, Miss Bruce!" cried Isabella, eagerly, "do look through
the window; there is a balloon flying, and a paper boy tied to it!"
"I wish you were flying too: don't you see that I want to write my
fable. Let me see: Ass, 1; Farmer Killwell, 2; somebody's papa, but not
mine. Turkey, 3; Barn-fowls, 4; Little schoolgirl, 5. O, how shall I put
all these words together to make any thing of them! O, that I could but
begin! There it is!" said Miss Bruce joyfully; and she wrote several
words upon her slate. "Well, there is nothing like a good beginning! I
will finish to-night; so now let us go to the ladies," and Miss Bruce
skipped out of the room, with her slate and Isabella.