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came, and the children went to bed. Sad, wearied out both in body and mind, she sat down by the fire, and was startled from her gloomy reverie by the servant bringing in the tray with her supper. It was the first solitary meal she had ever taken, and now it departed untouched. Such for the two succeeding years was the daily journal of Fanny Beaumont's life. Now and then Mr. Bennett would send to ask her to join their circle, but Mrs. Bennett's ill humour was so visible and so sure to lead to petty annoyance the following day, that Fanny almost always excused herself. Such for two years was the dull and lonely life of a girl singularly lovely and accomplished; she had the comfort of supporting her mother, but that comfort was her only one. The children who were confided to her care were perfectly untractable, the commonest domestic, who was kind, and honest, would have done all that she could do, she felt that her energies and talents were alike wasted, she had none of the pleasures of youth, and but little hope for the future.