she turned to my father, with a sweet, loving smile.

"It will relieve you very much," she said, "and give you time to get
out."

"I shall never leave you," he said, "no matter who comes."

Several letters were written; my father gave himself unheard-of trouble;
and after some weeks of doubt, hesitation and correspondence, a
governess was selected for me. She had been living with Lady Bucarest,
and was most highly recommended; she was amiable, accomplished, good
tempered and well qualified for the duties Lady Tayne wished her to
fulfill.

"What a paragon!" cried my father, as he read through the list of
virtues.

"I hope we shall not be disappointed," said my mother. "Oh, Laura,
darling, if it could be, I would educate you entirely, and give you into
no other hands."

It was March when my governess--by name Miss Sara Reinhart--came. I
always associate her in my own mind with the leaden skies, the cold
winds, the bleak rains and biting frosts of March. She was to be with us
on the seventh, and the whole of the day was like a tempest; the wind
blew, the rain fell. We could hear the rustling of the great boughs; the
wind rolled down the great avenues and shook the window frames.

My mother's room that day was the brightest in the house; cheery fire in
the silver grate and the profusion of flowers made it so cheerful. How