the subject of conversation.
"Yes, uncle, I should like to accept your generous offer to let me share the instructions of Adelaide's masters in music and painting, French and German; and Miss Worth's in the higher mathematics."
"All that will keep you pretty busy even without the reading you are sure to do," he commented with a smile.
"Usefully employed," she answered brightly "and that, I have learned from experience is the way to be happy."
The first sneer Mildred had to bear came from Mrs. Dinsmore, who heard with great vexation her husband's report of the young girl's resolve.
"Ridiculous!" she exclaimed. "If there's anything I do detest and despise, it is your rigid, puritanical sectary, who stands ready to cry out 'sinful! wicked!' at every sort of enjoyment! I am too much provoked. She is really a pretty and lady-like girl, and has attracted a good deal of attention; so that I was actually growing quite proud of her, and took pleasure in showing her off.
"But that is all over now, of course, and there'll be no end to the annoyance I shall have to endure in hearing her criticized for her odd behavior, and in parrying questions and remarks as to how she came by such strange notions."
"Well, my dear, it can't be helped," Mr. Dinsmore responded, between a smile and a sigh, "but if I were you I should very decidedly snub any one who should offer a disparaging remark about her to me. Being myself, I certainly intend to do so."
"Can't be helped! I believe you could reason her out of it if you would!"
"I am flattered by your belief, but do not share it," he said with a bow of acknowledgment; "nor if I did, would I attempt to change her views. 'Twould be too great a responsibility and a breach of the trust her parents have reposed in me."
The conversation was here brought to a conclusion by the summons to the dinner table.
Mildred made her appearance with the rest and was greeted by Mrs. Dinsmore with a cold inquiry after her health, followed by a covert taunt in regard to her resolve to forsake the worldly amusements in which she had of late indulged.
Mildred bore it with patience and humility, "not answering again," though the flushing of her cheek showed that she felt the unkindness keenly enough.
"Do you intend to make a complete hermit of yourself and go nowhere at all?" queried the irate lady.
"Oh, no, aunt," returned Mildred pleasantly, "I hope still to take walks, rides and drives; and do not object to calls and social visits, or to concerts or lectures; unless attending necessitates the keeping of later hours than are good for my health."
"Humph! 'twould have been wiser to my thinking, if you had begun as you meant to continue."
"Yes, aunt, it would," Mildred said, again coloring deeply, "and I wish I had; but it is better to do right at last than not at all. Do you not think so?"
"Don't ask me," sharply. "Adelaide, Louise and Lora, you may consider yourselves fortunate in having a cousin who is more capable of deciding questions of duty than your parents, I trust you will not fail to profit by her excellent example; not that which she has set, you will observe, but that which she is going to set you in the future."
The children giggled, while Mildred colored more deeply than before.
A frown had gathered on Mr. Dinsmore's brow.
"Children, if you cannot behave properly you must leave the table," he said sternly; then with a displeased look at his wife, "I for one highly approve of Mildred's resolve to do what she considers her duty; and it is my desire that she be allowed to follow the dictates of her conscience in peace."
Mr. Dinsmore was an indulgent husband and seldom found fault with anything his wife chose to do or say but experience had taught her that when he did interfere, she might as well submit at once. The subject was dropped and never revived again in his presence.
With her accustomed promptness and energy Mildred sought out Miss Worth that very afternoon, made arrangements for recitations, and began her studies.
She determined to devote four hours a day to them and her accomplishments. As she was accustomed to early rising and the breakfast hour at Roselands was late, it would not be difficult, she thought, to secure two hours before that meal; the other two she would take during Mrs. Dinsmore's afternoon siesta and the elaborate toilet which usually followed; and thus be as much as ever at that lady's command as a companion either at home or abroad.
Mrs. Dinsmore had few resources within herself, was a martyr to ennui and could not bear to be alone; and Mildred esteemed it both a duty and a pleasure to do all in her power to add to the comfort and enjoyment of her kind entertainers; she had succeeded thus far in doing so, in some measure, to all, from her uncle down to Baby Enna.
The children had found out weeks ago that Cousin Milly possessed an apparently inexhaustible fund of nursery tales and songs, and could teach them many amusing games.
They would have been glad to monopolize her, and entered many a complaint of the shortness and infrequency of her visits to the nursery.
Thinking of that now, she resolved to try to give them more of her time and attention; perhaps she could mingle some instruction with the amusement she furnished them; and she would be very glad to do so; for her heart was filled with pity for the young things as she thought of the great difference between their mother and hers; the one absorbed in her own selfish pleasures, and paying no attention to the cultivation of the minds and hearts of her children; the other giving herself with earnest, whole-souled devotion to seeking the best interests of her darlings, teaching and training them for happiness and usefulness here and hereafter.
"Precious mother! what a blessing to have been born your child," Mildred mentally exclaimed as she thus dwelt upon the contrast between the two, recalling with tear-dimmed eyes the loving care that had surrounded her from her very birth and in which each brother and sister had an equal share.
While Mildred thus laid her plans, Mrs. Dinsmore was somewhat similarly employed. Reclining upon a softly cushioned couch in her boudoir, idly listening to the pattering of the rain against the window, she mused in discontented mood of Mildred, and her unexpected resolve. It interfered with her schemes, for she had purposed filling the house with gay young company during the approaching Christmas holidays and making the two weeks one continued round of festivity.
To be sure she could do so still, but Mildred's refusal to take part in much of the sport would throw a damper upon the enjoyment of the others; besides giving occasion for unpleasant criticisms.
Mrs. Dinsmore's vexations increased as she turned the matter over in her mind.
But a bright thought struck her, and starting up with something like energy, she exclaimed, half aloud; "Why that's the very thing! and I'll do it at once. Hagar," addressing her maid, "bring me my writing desk."
Chapter Ninth.
"There's not a joy the world can give like that it takes away."
—Byron.
"Dear me! another dull, rainy, tedious day!" sighed Mrs. Dinsmore the next
