As Elizabeth was stepping into the chaise she suddenly recollected the trunk; and turning to the nurse, desired it might be instantly corded, and given to the driver. A man who was standing at the hall door exclaimed, “but we must first search it.”

“Search it, then,” cried Elizabeth, haughtily, “but do not detain us in the cold.”

“Cold, forsooth!” said the man; “I wonder what people would be at, with their fine carriages! I shall take my own time, I can assure you, ma’am, though your feathers are so high!”

“There is no arguing with vulgar, obstinate people,” said Elizabeth, as she drew up the chaise window; she did not consider, that civility is due to every person; it is, however, too much the case with young ladies that they think they have a right to command with authority, and, however unreasonable, that their command must be obeyed.

Elizabeth saw that her pupil was too deeply affected to answer any questions, therefore during the ride remained silent. In the evening, however, Miss Damer mentioned that her father had left the kingdom, and with a trembling voice added, “there are circumstances, ma’am, which it would not become me to reveal; when Mrs. Adair returns home, as far as I am at liberty, I will explain the cause of our distress.”

“Not another word upon the subject,” cried Elizabeth; “I was not attending to you, for this teasing kitten has ruffled all my silks.” Elizabeth turned the kitten out of the room, and began to put her netting balls in order, saying at the time, “what have I to do with your father’s affairs, my dear? I will not hear any family secrets; for I do not love secrets of any kind. You are in the house of friends: therefore try to be happy. My mother and sister never make professions: by their actions you must judge them. For my part, I would rather have one act of kindness than a thousand promises, or words of praise and comfort. But come and assist me with my silk, for I can do no good with it.”

Elizabeth wrote the particulars to Mrs. Adair, and finished her letter with the hope that the promise she had given to their pupil, of having a home with them, would not be disapproved.

Mrs. Adair received this letter with some degree of displeasure. She was not one who was generous for worldly fame; she justly considered that her pupil’s friends were the most proper persons to provide for her, and lost no time in calling at her late residence. On her arrival at the house, she found all the shutters closed; an elderly female, however, at the moment stopped and unlocked the door, who proved to be the nurse Elizabeth had seen.

Mrs. Adair followed her into the house, which was quite desolate: not a piece of furniture was remaining. She inquired if Miss Damer had any relations or friends to take care of her. “No, indeed, madam,” said the nurse; “her mother’s sister is the only near relation, and she has married somebody. It was a sad day for my poor young lady! she was stupified with grief! Her father fled—and the sheriff’s officers in the house! All things were in confusion! chairs in one place, carpets upon dining-room tables, satin curtains upon the floor, nothing in its place; and then to see the nice things my good mistress had once so highly prized, handled so roughly! Ah, madam, ladies little think, when they are so delicate in handling their finery, into what brutish hands it may fall at last! But a happy thing it was, that my mistress did not live to see the confusion.”

“The young lady!” said Mrs. Adair; “other affairs I have not any thing to do with.”

“My young lady, madam! Ah, from a child she knew the right from wrong; but sorrowful was her life, after her mamma’s death. She was no squanderer of her father’s money—she knew the value of every thing; no waste, no scantiness was her mode. But it was a sad day when she ceased to rule in her father’s house. O, Madam, I have seen her so treated! But it will come home at last to those who have triumphed in their wickedness; justice overtakes sinners in the long-run.”

Mrs. Adair now inquired if Miss Damer had heard from her father.

“No, Madam; nor dare he return to England; he is too profligate to think of any person but himself, and the painted, gaudy creature and her children who are gone with him. But I hope my young lady will find a friend with you, Madam, for I am sure you are Mrs. Adair.”

Mrs. Adair told her to make herself easy respecting Miss Damer, and desired she would go down and spend a day at her house. “It will be a satisfaction to the young lady to see you,” she added.

Scarcely was Mrs. Adair seated, on the evening she returned home, when Elizabeth, in a tone of fretful impatience, asked “why her letter had not been answered?”

“I pass over your question,” said Mrs. Adair, “to ask why you did not consult me, respecting a provision for Miss Damer?”

“It was impossible! I could not keep her in a state of suspense.”

“But do you consider, that bills must be discharged, and that servants’ wages and taxes must be paid, before we make even an ideal division of the sums we are to receive from parents? And for Miss Damer, we shall not receive sixpence! And who is to pay for the harp, the pelisse, the bonnet, and the books that her father requested us to purchase? Likewise her washing bills, and many other extras, which of course add to the account.”

“O, my dear mother,” said Elizabeth with astonishment, “I could not have supposed that you would have thought of these petty things.”

“I have more than thought, for they have dwelt upon my mind. Great affairs women seldom have anything to do with; it is in the petty, every-day concerns of life, that we are called upon to be prudent. How many men date their troubles to the thoughtless extravagance and want of economy in a wife! But, for the sake of bringing the subject home to your own bosom, we will suppose that you are a young married woman.” Elizabeth blushed, and was attempting to speak, but Mrs. Adair checked her. “You receive your friends, and return your parties in bridal finery; one excursion takes place of another, and gaiety upon gaiety succeeds; this passes over, and with faded dresses, faded looks begin. At least, care sits a little heavy on your husband’s brow; he perceives that you are deficient in all the requisites for a good wife; and when he looks round the uncomfortable apartment in which he is seated, his thoughts naturally revert to the home of his youth, and his prudent, excellent mother; you are too much the lady to attend to domestic concerns. ‘Servants receive high wages: and they must do their duty.’ And what is their duty? Just to please themselves; and tease you for money for trifles, and to go to market. You supply all their wants, without considering what is wasted, and what is really wanted.

“Next we will suppose that a young family demands your aid: nay, your constant care. ‘But the fatigue, and the bustle, and the noise of children distract you,’ Poor, helpless little things; they have not reason to take care of themselves: additional servants must therefore be engaged. And they are constantly with nurses, who sometimes coax them, sometimes beat them, and sometimes scold them; so, through their mother’s idleness, they learn many vicious tricks. Evil grows upon evil. Through your extravagance, and your husband’s misfortunes, you are brought to beggary. How do you like this picture?”

“O, mother! you do not think so ill of me! I would do every thing, and submit to every inconvenience, rather than involve the man I should marry in misery.”

“Depend upon it, Elizabeth, people live in an ideal world, when they do not think of proper ways and means to provide for a family. The word liberal, in its modern sense, means profuseness to needy adventurers, and idle friends; indifference to the nearest and dearest ties, originate in this misapplied term. A liberal spirit runs into debt to honest tradesmen, and with an unruffled countenance hears of their bankruptcy. The liberal treat as lords, when they know they are only beggars. Believe me, the most estimable characters are those with whom there is the least tendency to this overflowing prodigality of kindness. It is, however, my wish to serve Miss Damer. She shall be educated for a governess. But let us not neglect the old despised adage: ‘Be just before you are generous.’”

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