A colloquy between Mrs. Clink and Miss Sowersoft, in which the latter proves herself a most able tactician, and gives a striking illustration of the difference between talking and doing.

BEFORE Dr. Rowel had ridden two miles on his journey, another visiter had arrived at Miss Sowersoft's, in the person of Mrs. Clink. Astonished at the account she had received through Abel of the illness of her son, and vexed at the stay which Fanny made with the boy, she resolved to walk over and inquire into the affair in person.

Taking advantage of the first interview with her, the amiable Miss Sowersoft had done to the utmost of her power to qualify the evil impressions which she feared some mischievous tale-tellers might have raised in her mind with respect to the treatment that Colin had received. Without having actually witnessed it, she said it was impossible that any mother could credit the trouble taken with him, in order to render him fit for his situation, and enable him to go out into the world without being misled by that great fallacy, so common amongst the youth of both sexes, that they are born for nothing but enjoyment, and that everybody they meet with are their friends. To root out this fatal error at the very commencement had been her principal endeavour; and though she, of course, expected nothing less than that the boy himself would look upon her somewhat harshly,—for it was natural to juvenile minds to be easily offended,—yet she had persevered in her course conscientiously, and with the full assurance that, whatever the lad might think or say now, he would thank her in after years; and also, that either his own mother, or any other person of ripe experience, would see good reason to thank her also, for adopting a method of discipline so eminently calculated to impress upon his mind that truest of all truths, that the world was a hard place, and life a difficult journey to struggle through.

“The sooner young people are made acquainted with that fact,” continued Miss Sowersoft, “the better it is for themselves.”

“You are right there, Miss Sowersoft,” replied Mrs. Clink; “for I am sure if we were but taught at first what the world really is, we should never go into it, as many of us do, only to be imposed upon, deceived, and ruined, through the false confidence in which we have been bred of everybody's good meaning, and uprightness, and integrity. It is precisely the line of conduct I have myself pursued in bringing Colin up from the cradle. I have impressed upon him above all things to tell the truth whenever it was necessary to speak, and to pay no regard whatever to consequences, be they good or evil.”

“Yes, Mrs. Clink,” replied Miss Sowersoft, slightly reddening, and peeping at the ends of her finger-nails, “yes,—that is very good to a certain extent; but then I think it might be carried too far. Children should be taught to discriminate a little between truth and downright impudence, as well as to keep their mouths shut about anything they may happen to overhear, whenever their masters or mistresses are talking in the confidentiality of privacy.”

Mrs. Clink confessed herself ignorant of what Miss Sowersoft alluded to, but observed, that if she intended the remark to apply to Colin, she was confident he would never be guilty of so mean a thing as to listen to the private conversation of any two persons in the world.

“It is natural you should have a good opinion of him,” replied Miss Sowersoft; “but should you believe your eyes if you had caught him at it?—oracular demonstration, as my brother Ted calls it.”

“I should believe my eyes, certainly,” said Mrs. Clink.

“Then we did catch him at it, and Mr. Palethorpe was much excited of course,—for he is very passionate indeed when he is once got up,—and he took him in his rage and dipped him in the horse-trough. Not that I justify his passion, or say that I admire his revenge,—nothing of the sort: but I must say, that if there is one thing more mean and contemptible than another, or that deserves to be more severely punished in children, it is that of listening behind hedges and doors, to know the very thing that people wish to keep particularly secret.”

Colin's mother was about to reply, had not the sudden entrance of Dr. Rowel prevented her, and left Miss Sowersoft's philippic against listeners and listening in all its force and weight upon her mind.

Anxious to see the boy, Mrs. Clink followed the doctor up stairs, and found Fanny sitting by his bed-side, with a cup of lukewarm tea in her hand, waiting until he should wake. Having examined his patient, the doctor addressed Fanny to the effect that he wished to have a few minutes' conversation with her down stairs. Miss Sowersoft, on being made aware of the doctor's wish, ushered him and Fanny into an inner parlour, assuring them that they would be perfectly retired there, as no one could approach the door without her own knowledge.

“There is something vastly curious in this,” said Miss Sowersoft to herself, as she carefully closed the door. “What can the doctor want with such an impudent minx?”

And so she remained, pursuing her dark cogitations through all the labyrinths of scandal, until Mrs. Clink had bidden our hero good-b'ye, and crept down stairs. On turning the corner of the wall, the first object she beheld was Miss Sowersoft, with her ear close to the keyhole of the inner parlour-door, apparently so deeply intent on what was going forward within, as to have almost closed her senses to anything without, for she did not perceive Mrs. Clink's approach until she stood within a yard or two of her.

“Ay, bless me!—are you here?” she exclaimed, as she drew herself up. “Why, you see, ma'am, there is no rule without an exception; and, notwithstanding what I was saying when Dr. Rowel came in, yet, Mrs. Clink, it was impossible for me to be aware how soon it might be needful for me to break my own rule. You know that servant of yours is a very likely person, Mrs. Clink, for any gentleman to joke with; and, though I do not mean to insinuate anything—I should be very sorry to do so, indeed; but still, doctor though he is—in fact, to tell you the truth,”—and Miss Sowersoft drew her auditor to the farther side of the room, and spoke in a whisper,—“it is highly fortunate I had the presence of mind to listen at the door; for I heard the doctor very emphatically impress on your servant the necessity of not letting even you yourself know anything about it, under any circumstances; and at the same time he promised her something,—presents, for aught we know,—and said he would do something for her. Now, Mrs. Clink, what could he mean by that?—I have my suspicions; and if I were in your place, I should insist, positively insist, on knowing all about it, or she should not live another day in my house.”

Mrs. Clink stood amazed and confounded. She would have pledged her word that, if needful, Fanny would have resisted any offered insult to the death; but she knew not what to think after what she had just heard.

“I will insist on knowing it!” she exclaimed. “The girl is young and simple, and may be easily imposed upon by—”

“Hush, hush!” interposed Miss Sowersoft, “they are coming out!”

As they came out, Miss Sowersoft looked thunder at Fanny, and bade the doctor good morning with a peculiar stiltiness of expression, which implied, in her own opinion, a great deal more than anybody else could possibly have made of it.

“Have her down stairs directly!” continued the lady of the establishment, (for Fanny had gone up stairs,) as soon as Mr. Rowel had passed out of hearing. “A wicked hussy!—If she did not answer me everything straight forwards, I should know what to think of it, and what to do as well, that I should! But you can do as you like, Mrs. Clink.”

Colin's mother called Fanny down stairs again, and took her, followed by Miss Sower-soft, into the same room in which she had so recently held her colloquy with her uncle the doctor.

END OF THE FIRST VOLUME.