DEBORAH'S BOOK.
Mamma had given me five things to remember, and had counted them over to me on the fingers of my hand, after she had put my new gloves on.
I was never to forget to say my prayers; I was to write to her twice a week; I was always to change my shoes when I came in from a walk; I was to keep my room very tidy; and (greatest charge of all, as I thought at the time) I was honestly to tell the housemaid, when I was sent up to bed, that mamma did not wish me to put out my own candle. I was very anxious to persuade mamma that I could put it out myself, therefore she was the more urgent in impressing upon me that she would not allow it; and, in taking leave of her, and during the drive to the sea, I thought very much (when I was not thinking of my veil and my parasol) about that candle.
We reached the house. Mrs. Wells did not come out to meet us, but received us rather cordially, though she reminded my father that he had promised to be in time for dinner, and that he was full ten minutes late; he made some trifling excuse, we sat down to this early meal, and very shortly after my father took his leave. Then, as I well remember, my relative rang the bell, and sent for Deborah. Deborah, a rough, red-cheeked young woman, came in, and her mistress addressed her with, 'Now, Deborah, I hope you haven't forgotten my orders about the garret.'
'No, ma'am,' said Deborah, 'and I've scrubbed it and dusted it, and laid out the half-crown you gave me for toys; and if miss makes all the noise she can there, you'll never hear her.'
'That's right, Deborah,' replied my relative languid-
