During Adeline's illness, excessive fear of losing her only child had indeed awakened her to unusual exertion; and as all that she had to do was to get down, at stated times, a certain quantity of wine and nourishment, her task though wearisome was not difficult: but to sooth the declining hours of an aged parent, to please the capricious appetite of decay, to assist with ready and skilful alacrity the shaking hand of the invalid, jealous of waiting on herself and wanting to be cheated into being waited upon;—these trifling yet important details did not suit the habits of Mrs Mowbray. But Adeline was versed in them all; and her mother, conscious of her superiority in these things, was at last contented to sit by inactive, though not unmoved.

One day, when Mrs Mowbray had been prevailed upon to lie down for an hour or two in another apartment, and Adeline was administering to Mrs Woodville some broth which she had made herself, the old lady pressed her hand affectionately, and cried, 'Ah! child, in a lucky hour I made bold to interfere, and teach you what your mother was too clever to learn. Wise was I to think one genius enough in a family,—else, what should I have done now? My daughter, though the best child in the world, could never have made such nice broth as this to comfort me, so hot, and boiled to a minute like! bless her! she'd have tried, that she would, but ten to one but she'd have smoked it, overturned it, and scalt her fingers into the bargain.—Ah, Lina, Lina! mayhap the time will come when you, should you have a sick husband or a child to nurse, may bless your poor grandmother for having taught you to be useful.'

'Dear grandmother,' said Adeline tenderly, 'the time has come: I am, you see, useful to you; and therefore I bless you already for having taught me to be so.'

'Good girl, good girl! just what I would have you! And forgive me, Lina, when I own that I have often thanked God for not making you a genius! Not but what no child can behave better than mine; for, with all her wit and learning, she was always so respectful, and so kind to me and my dear good man, that I am sure I could not but rejoice in such a daughter; though, to be sure, I used to wish she was more conversible like; for, as to the matter of a bit of chat, we never gossiped together in our lives. And though, to be sure, the squires' ladies about are none of the brightest, and not to compare with my Edith, yet still they would have done for me and my dear good man to gossip a bit with. So I was vexed when my daughter declared she wanted all her time for her studies, and would not visit any body, no, not even Mrs Norberry, who is to be sure a very good sort of a woman, though a little given to speak ill of her neighbours. But then so we are all, you know: and, as I say, why, if one spoke well of all alike, what would be the use of one person's being better than his neighbours, except for conscience's sake? But, as I was going to say, my daughter was pleased to compliment me, and declare she was sure I could amuse myself without visiting women so much inferior to me; and she advised my beginning a course of study, as she called it.'

'And did you?' asked Adeline with surprise.

'Yes. To oblige her, my good man and I began to read one Mr Locke on the Conduct of the Human Understanding; which my daughter said would teach us to think.'

'To think?' said Adeline.

'Yes.—Now, you must know, my poor husband did not look upon it as very respectful like in Edith to say that, because it seemed to say that we had lived all these years without having thought at all; which was not true, to be sure, because we were never thoughtless like, and my husband was so staid when a boy that he was called a little old man.'

'But I am sure,' said Adeline, half smiling, 'that my mother did not mean to insinuate that you wanted proper thought.'

'No, I dare say not,' resumed the old lady, 'and so I told my husband, and so we set to study this book: but, dear me! it was Hebrew Greek to us—and so dull!'