and occupations. It is holiday time with us, so I am not expected in the schoolroom, and my present object in life is to ascertain what the governor is doing, where he is going, and whether there is any dire chance of his catching Dolly and me just as we are trotting off to "pastures new." I carefully track him to the library, and am presently surprised and relieved by the appearance of his man of business, who is shown to that sanctum by Simpkins, and left for four good hours, I hope. And now to find Dolly. I have not mentioned to that young person that I meditate taking her out, or her eyes would have become so round that everybody would have suspected she was up to mischief, and on searching inquiry she would certainly have let it out. I discover her in the nursery with Alan, learning Scripture history—the fag-end of a punishment given by papa weeks ago. I give nurse a hug. Dear old soul! is she not like a second mother to us? but wish she would turn her back; for if she is loving she is shrewd, and is too well acquainted with my knack of getting into scrapes to trust any one of her charges to my tender mercies. She is hemming dusters and rating Balaam's Ass, who with her usual obstinacy has been doing that which she ought not to have done, and leaving undone such things as she ought to have done. Apparently she has been taking the air on the leads, for nurse is remarking with a violent sniff, "that rent will soon be dear in these parts if so much beauty is seen disporting itself on the tiles." (B.A. is the most ill-favoured young woman I ever saw.)
"Like Bathsheba," says Alan.
"Nurse," says Dolly, looking up from her book," who was Bathsheba?"
"Nobody in particular, Miss Dolly; nobody you have any call to ask about. A woman."
"She was an improper person," says Alan unexpectedly.
"Sakes alive!" ejaculates nurse holding up her hands; "what
