Boarding School: Familiar conversations between a governess and her pupils.

by Augusta Huiell Seaman

  The truth was, Mrs. Adair had called upon the physician, and begged thathe would inform her daughter that she would return in the evening: buta press of engagements had prevented his visit to Jane, who now with joybeheld her mother enter her chamber.

  "I thought you would return to see me on my journey," she exclaimed;"and you are returned, my dear mother. Blessed be this hour!"

  Miss Arden and Miss Damer, from the hour they met in the summer-house,were strict friends. Their capacities were similar, and they were at thehead of the different classes. On the days appointed for geography, theyoung ladies were in a room called the study. Miss Arden had observedthat one of the servants, a respectable looking young woman, generallycontrived to enter the apartment, and busy herself with one thing oranother: but always looked, anxiously at the globes, or the maps, andstopped a moment to listen, either to the teacher or the pupils. MissArden noticed the circumstance to her friend; "I will certainly askCatherine," she said, "if she has any motive in attending to ourpursuits; there is something in her countenance that excites mycuriosity."

  The first time she met her alone, she made the inquiry.

  "I have, indeed, ma'am, a motive," said Catherine; "I would give all mywages, could I but learn as you do."

  "But of what use, Catherine, would learning be to you? You can read yourBible; and it will shew you all that is necessary for you to know. Yourduty as a servant, and the way to heaven, the place where we all hope tomeet, when we have done with this world, and its cares."

  "Ah, ma'am, I am not satisfied even with knowing this, though it is allthat a servant should know."

  "I do not understand you, Catherine. Tell me why you wish to gain otherknowledge?"

  "Because, ma'am, I am most wishful to be useful to my parents. They arepoor, and have a large family to bring up. If I could but open a littleschool in our village, what a blessing should I be to them!"

  "Well, Catherine," said Miss Arden, after considering a little, "I willdo what I can for you--I mean if Miss Damer approves; for I dare nottrust to my own judgment. Meet me in the school-room early to-morrowmorning, and I well tell you how it is to be."

  When the friends met in the play-ground, they talked the subject over.

  "There cannot, I think, be any thing wrong in doing good to afellow-creature," said Miss Damer, "therefore I think we may venture;but we must rise an hour earlier than usual."

  Catherine was delighted when she heard the result of their conference;and, with many expressions of thankfulness, promised to leave a lamp attheir door.

  The young ladies began the employment of teaching with alacrity. Theyendeavoured to ground Catherine in those things that would be useful ina village school. But geography her mind was bent upon, so Miss Ardenpresented to her a book; likewise several little works, which shethought would be useful.

  One morning, however, they were surprised in the midst of their lessons."Begin that line again," said Miss Arden. Elizabeth had walked gentlyinto the room, and now stood by the table where the two young ladieswere seated, and Catherine standing. When they beheld her, they allstarted, and looked aghast. "You are very early at your tasks, youngladies! But I did not know that we had a new pupil. Pray when did shearrive?"

  "I beg you a thousand pardons, ma'am, for leading the young ladies to dowrong! It was all my fault," said Catherine.

  Miss Arden related the matter plainly as it was.

  "I commend Catherine," said Elizabeth, "for her wish to serve herparents; nor am I offended with you, young ladies, for wishing to serveher. But you must beware that we are not to do a wrong thing, even withthe very best motives. There is always something mean in actingclandestinely. Why could you not have been candid, and told me herwish? You must not meet here again. Catherine, when you have leisure,continue your lessons; and I will fix upon some other mode ofinstructing you; at least a proper time, not by the light of a lamp."

  CHAPTER XV.

  When the physician was first called in to attend Jane, he strictlyforbad any person sleeping with her: Elizabeth, therefore, removed to asmall camp bed, which was placed by her sister.

  A few mornings after Mrs. Adair's visit to Mrs. Vincent, Jane suddenlyawoke; and in an earnest, quick tone of voice, begged that her sisterwould come to her. "But first draw aside the window curtain," said she,"That is right. Now come into my bed--only this morning--never--neveragain."

  Surprised at a request so unusual, Elizabeth instantly obeyed. "Do notsit up, sister, nor creep from me; lay your head upon my pillow."

  Jane now folded her arms round her sister's neck, and kissed hertenderly.--"This is my first and last proof of affection! O, sister!where--and when shall we meet again?"

  The sun had risen, and gilded every part of the room. Jane raisedherself, as if by magic. "Let me behold every thing--for I shall neverbehold any objects upon earth again! This day my soul will be requiredby my Heavenly Father! Ah, my soul! it is an awful thing to die; evenwith hope and trust in thy Almighty Power! But Thou art mighty tostrike,--merciful and gracious in raising thy servants unto glory."

  Jane now paused; other thoughts seemed to arise. Her glazed eyeswandered from object to object. "Ah! there is my writing-desk; give thatto my mother! There is my Bible; that is for my dear little favourite!Here is my watch; but I cannot see the minute finger move. It is of noconsequence: time will soon be over! Keep it, my dear Elizabeth, andwhen you look upon it, remember we are to meet again!--Ah! thou brightluminary!" she exclaimed, with fervency, "I hail thee, this, my lastmorning upon earth, as the evidence of that Being, who will lead methrough the valley of the shadow of death, to never-ending glory! Whatis this life, my dearest Elizabeth, when we come to die? But where is mymother? I am weak--very weak, and faint."

  "Let me support you, dear Jane," said Elizabeth, trembling with emotion.

  "Well, sister," said Jane, faintly, "you shall support me. I will die inyour arms!"

  Jane dropped in a state of insensibility upon her pillow. Elizabeth rangthe bell; and the next minute Mrs. Adair was in the room. She stepped tothe side of the bed where her youngest daughter lay; and, stooping,listened to hear her breathe. "My affectionate, my dutiful child!" Hereshe ceased, for tears checked her utterance. Jane sighed deeply; hereyes gradually opened, and, at length, rested upon her mother: by slowdegrees recollection returned.

  "Where could my thoughts be!" she exclaimed in hurried accents. "Is mymother here? Ah, yes! I behold her! I did not know you, indeed I didnot! But bless me; bless your daughter."

  Mrs. Adair tenderly embraced Jane; and in faltering accents blessed her.

  "My dearest, kindest mother, be comforted! We are parting--but to meetagain! The trial will soon be over! My hope is fixed upon the promisesof a merciful Redeemer! I am only going a little--a very little whilebefore you! How joyful is the thought, that we are not separating forever!--this is my joy," and her eyes brightened as she spoke, "that Ihave reverenced my God, and loved my mother. But this pain;--O, it isviolent!--Mother--"...Here the voice ceased; not a sigh, not a whisperwas heard.

  Mrs. Adair, who had been supporting her daughter, now gently placed herhead upon the pillow, and silently led Elizabeth out of the room.

  At the door of her own apartment she saw Mrs. Lloyd; and desiring her totake the charge of Elizabeth, who appeared almost convulsed withanguish, instantly returned into the chamber she had so recentlyquitted. After indulging that grief, which the most unfeeling in somemeasure experience, when they behold the lifeless remains of a beingthey had loved, she calmly proceeded to accomplish the desire of thedeparted, in preparing her for that narrow spot, which confines all thatwas mighty, rich, noble, excellent--the despised of the world, theneglected of the world; that spot which is the boundary of ambition, andthe sure refuge for the distressed.

  CHAPTER XVI.

  When Mrs. Adair had retired to her own chamber, on the night of herdaughter's decease, and was reflecting upon the awful event of themorning, her attention was drawn from the subject by a low whispering
sound. Aware that the teachers and servants were retired to rest, shecould not account for the circumstance; she now heard doors slowlyopening, and was persuaded that different persons were passing her room.Alarmed, but at the same time collected, she cautiously opened her owndoor; and perceiving a glimmering light proceed from the chamber whereher daughter's remains were laid, resolved to be satisfied, and withlight, slow steps, advanced to the spot. There, with surprise, shebeheld several of her pupils. At the head of the bed stood Miss Arden,with eyes mournfully bent upon the face of the departed; Miss Damerstooped to kiss the corpse, and then burst into a violent flood oftears. "That smile," said Miss Cotton, "proves that the soul isrejoicing in heaven. Where shall we again behold upon earth one soamiable or so lovely?"

  "O, that I may be equally prepared, when my hour comes," cried MissArden.

  "Hush! hush!" cried Isabella Vincent, in a tone of terror, "did you nothear some one breathe? O, do hide me." She now covered her face with herfrock.

  Miss Grey took her passive hand, and tried to comfort her. "Look at MissJane, and then you will not be frightened; now do look--it is so simpleto be afraid; she appears only as if she were asleep. There is not anything terrible in death, only to wicked people; I am sure I should notbe afraid to die to-night."

  "I dare not look! indeed I dare not! do take me to my own room."

  "You must look at Miss Jane, or you will always be frightened at beingalone. You know I am but a little girl as well as yourself; but I shouldnot be afraid to sleep here to-night. Think how good she was! living ordead, she would never injure us."

  "O, take me away: I don't know what you are saying; why does not someone speak? O, do somebody speak, or I shall be frightened to death."

  Miss Grey whispered to her companion that Mrs. Adair was come into theroom.

  "Is she? O how glad I am! Now I don't mind." Saying this, she uncoveredher face, and crept quietly to Mrs. Adair; who was asking why they hadassembled in the chamber at so improper an hour.

  "We should have been miserable, ma'am," said Miss Cotton, "unless we hadseen Miss Jane to-night; and as we shall never behold her again, wethought, ma'am, you would pardon us. I could not have slept; and theother ladies declared the same."

  "But wherefore did you come, Isabella?"

  "O, ma'am, because I dared not to be alone."

  "But why are you afraid to look at my daughter?"

  "O, I am not afraid now; I will look at Miss Jane," said Isabella withassumed courage; "but do let me take hold of your hand, ma'am; then Iknow I shall be safe."

  "You have better protection than mine, my little girl, or you would bepoorly defended. He who made you, he alone can guard you: but there isnot any thing to fear from the dead."

  Mrs. Adair led her pupil to the head of the bed.

  "Look, my dear, how happy and composed she appears; as quiet and soundas your little brother, when he is asleep."

  By degrees, Isabella ventured to turn her eyes upon the corpse; "I amnot afraid, I am not afraid indeed," said she, almost gasping forbreath. At length her eyes were fixed upon the face of the deceased:"She can't be dead--she must be asleep! But hush! I do not hear herbreathe! Where is Miss Jane's breath now, ma'am?" As she said this, shetimidly stretched forth her hand, and lightly touched the face of thedeparted; then hastily starting back, cried; "must we all be so cold--ascold as marble?"

  "We must all be so, indeed! There is no warmth, my little girl, when thesoul is fled."

  "But what is the soul, ma'am? and where is it?" asked Miss Bruce.

  "Your question is beyond my power to answer. The vital spirit, which wecall the soul, is given by God, to direct us to do that which is right;and, from childhood to the grave, is our faithful friend. My daughter,whose lifeless remains you are now contemplating, was in all her waysactuated by this spirit, to obedience, and to goodness; and in a stateof glory she will again exist, with a mind purified and exalted. Whatwould be the use of life, and of the wonderful powers with which we aregifted, were we to lie down in the grave, as the beasts that perish?"

  "But how will Miss Jane rise again, ma'am?" asked Miss Bruce. "It is inthe Bible, that at the last day we shall be 'raised in the twinkling ofan eye.' O, that I could behold Miss Jane rise now; then I should neverdie!"

  "We read," said Mrs. Adair, "that the seed is cast into the earth, andrises up wheat, or any other grain: but we do not know how this comes topass. The seed, that looks so insignificant in our eyes, after it hasbeen in the earth the appointed time, gradually breaks forth in all itsglory. We likewise shall be put into the earth; no longer valued, but bythe remembrance of our worth; there we shall moulder and decay, and intime be forgotten by all the inhabitants upon earth. But the season ofthe resurrection will come: the soul will resume her influence; we shallburst the fetters of the tomb, and appear before the Judge of nations,to answer for our deeds upon earth. Be good, then, my dear youngfriends; and, you will then neither have cause to fear death, or futurejudgment. And now take your leave--your final leave of one, who was inall things worthy of imitation; and learn with equal ease, to sleep ordie."

  CHAPTER XVII.

  The Sunday after the funeral, the young ladies appeared at church, withvery serious and sorrowful countenances; and afterwards, with Miss Ardenand Miss Damer, Jane was often a subject of conversation: they loved torecall her to remembrance; and the proofs she had left of her regardwere particularly prized by them.

  But serious impressions seldom remain long upon the minds of very youngpeople. Miss Bruce was almost the first to return to her old pursuitswith gaiety of heart.

  One evening, unknown to the teacher, she had strolled to the frontgarden gate, apparently on the watch for mischief. Isabella, who wasintent upon learning her lessons for the following day, had likewisepassed the boundary of the play-ground, and had sauntered the same way.

  Miss Bruce in a moment caught her hand, opened the gate, and ran withher into the lane.

  "Where are you taking me to?" exclaimed Isabella; "you have frightenedme so!"

  "Nonsense! I only want you to go with me to the cake shop: we shan't befive minutes away."

  "But I have no business at the cake shop. And don't you see that I amlearning my lessons! You will make me forget all! 'Five times nine,forty-five.' O, dear, I shall forget every thing!"

  "What a dunce!" cried Miss Bruce; "only at forty-five! I will teach youten times further; and to add, and to subtract, if you will come withme. I do believe Miss Wilkins is there! Come along, or we shall befinely punished!" Saying this, Miss Bruce dragged Isabella down thelane, whilst she struggled to make her escape.

  "I will not go, Miss Bruce! you have no right to take me! I declare youhave made me drop my questions!"

  "Never mind; I will give you question and answer too. Don't you see thatstile? and that nice white cottage by that large pool of water, wherethose children are throwing stones? We have only to turn down by thosetall trees, and we shall be there in a moment."

  "I dare not go: I know Mrs. Adair will be so angry!"

  "I am determined you shall come! you are the most stupid little thing inEngland!" As Miss Bruce said this, she took firm hold of her companion'sfrock and arm, and drew her towards the water. Isabella in vain tried toescape. By this time, they had almost reach the pool; a boy, who hadbeen amusing two children, making circles with stones in the water,stepped from the edge of the pond, and marching boldly up to Miss Bruce,as boldly asked her, "what business she had to tease the little lady?"

  "Do you think, Sir, I shall answer a rude, vulgar boy like you?"

  The boy looked at her with contempt, and stooping to Isabella, said,"Do, little lady, tell me what this great girl is holding your frockfor?"

  "She wants me to go with her for cakes, and I want to learn my lessons."

  "O, you are the ladies, then, from the great school! I thought I hadseen you before. I see how it is; this great girl is like Jack Ranger;she wants to get you into a scrape, that you may be marked as well asherself! But I'll de
fend you, never fear! It is not a crab-stick thatcan frighten me! Come with me, and see who dares to hinder us!" He nowcaught her hand, and tried to draw her from her companion.

  "You shall not go with her, against your mind, were she as big asHercules! We are English, and are not to be conquered." Miss Brucesuddenly let go her companion's frock, and gave the boy a violent slapupon the face. "Go home, you little ragged creature, mend your coat, anddo not talk to ladies."

  The boy instantly recovered himself from the blow; and looking at MissBruce with scorn, exclaimed, "I am not a mender of old clothes, Miss!Take that for your pains, and your boarding-school manners!"

  The blow he returned made blood to gush violently from Miss Bruce'snose. Isabella screamed; the children cried out, "very well, Tom! Iwould not be you for something."

  A pretty woman, but with a stern countenance, now came forth from thecottage, and asked what the rout was about.

  "Only our Tom and the lady boxing," cried the children.

  "For shame of yourself, Sir! How dare you behave so to your betters?"

  "I would have struck her," said the boy, sullenly, "had she been as tallas the steeple, and as great as King George But come, little Miss, withme, and let that great girl do what she likes."

  He now ran off with Isabella.

  "Very well, Sir! but I shall tell your father of this, or my name's notGrace Johnson! But come into the cottage, Miss; and let us see what wecan do with your frock, for it is in a sad state."

  Miss Bruce followed the cottager, a little ashamed of her appearance;but more afraid of consequences. She was, however, one of thoseself-willed young ladies, who think upon a thing one moment, and actupon it the next.