Every order, indeed every thing, devolved upon Fanny, and the difficulties around her might well have appalled one far older, and far wiser, than an inexperienced school-girl. Mr. Beaumont's commercial undertakings had been of a wide and speculative order, and their failure had been total. One loss had followed upon another, and the failure of a bank, with which he was connected, was the last and heaviest misfortune of all. The shock had doubtless hastened his death, and it was impossible for any situation to be more utterly destitute than that in which he had left his family. In his prosperity, hard, arrogant, and grasping, he had made no friends—and his children were equally without support, assistance, or advice.
Mrs. Beaumont, a vain, pretty, and silly woman, was utterly unable to bear up against the torrent of misfortune which assailed her. To lament, and wonder, was all of which Mrs. Beaumont was capable. Twenty times a day she would say, "But your papa was so rich, he
