ness, and there the children's chattering, and mamma's and papa's talk of the ball that was last evening, and the dinner that was to be to-morrow, and the new dress this lady wore, and the new horses that gentleman drove, were—something better than nothing. At the Hartells' there was worse than a total loss of this immensely powerful engine in domestic education, the family meeting at the social board, for there the children were abandoned to the vitiating influence of unprincipled servants; the father hurried down his coffee to escape as early as possible from the conjugal atmosphere; and the wife, at ten or eleven, dawdled alone and in vacuity over her distasteful breakfast. At the Simsons' there was simply the gratification of hungry healthy animals. To the Lovetts, "the dear Lovetts," Lucy recurred with pride and joy. There she had seen, under a more homely aspect, the same intelligence and goodness manifest in the interchange of domestic offices, and in imagination she—but we will not betray her; what girl or woman does not construct a home for herself, and weave her own golden fabric of domestic joys?
After breakfast Lucy proceeded to the duties of her new place, instructed, whenever she needed instruction, by her little directress Susan, who, like the divinities of the ancient fable, interposed at the moment of necessity, and then returned to her own element.[1]
- ↑ Some may doubt the competency of a child, not ten years old, to perform the tasks assigned to Susan. We have lately seen a girl not ten, the daughter of a Polish exile, who seven years ago lived not only in affluence, but luxury, the sole nurse of her mother through a lying-in, and performing the duty well, besides accomplishing various other domestic services. When
