"Why, the first time I wanted to put off the lesson was once that Mr. Gilbert called to give me a drive in his new carriage, just as the children came. But when I said 'let us put them off,' Grace looked very sorry, and said, I must remember how much trouble we had had in getting them to come to us; and now, if we put them off for a drive, they would think we did not care much for the lessons, and would perhaps not come again. Grace seemed so serious and earnest, that I was ashamed of having even thought of putting them off; and so I have never said any thing about it since, though I have been very tired sometimes."
Grace had entered while Clara was speaking, and now said, "Ah, Clara! but we would never have begun to teach them if it had not been for you."
My young readers may understand from this sketch what Mrs. Wilmot meant by saying that Clara stimulated Grace to do right things, and Grace prevented Clara from doing wrong ones.
CHAPTER IV.
THE YOUNG TEACHER.
The first Saturday after my arrival at Hazel Grove, I found, after breakfast, that Clara, instead of getting her books, as usual, produced some colored silks and a frame for embroidery, in which was an apron with a border of beautifully shaded white, pink, and crimson rose-buds, just commenced. At the same time, Grace brought out her paints and brushes and an unfinished flower-piece, which showed both great taste in its design and great care in its execution. These things were laid on the table, and then these two girls seemed to have nothing to do but to watch for the arrival of some one whom they evidently expected with impatience. At length Clara cried out, "I see her, Grace—there she is."
I looked and saw, still at a distance from the house, the figure of a girl apparently not older than those who were so anxiously expecting her. She carried a portfolio under her arm, and walked with a quick, buoyant step, which showed that she was both well and cheerful.
"Who is that?" said I to Grace.
"Cecille L'Estrange, ma'am," she replied.