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 figure would allow room for. To say the truth, Nature seemed to have designed her for an artless, pretty girl. But Nature is too often cruelly used; her intentions are nipped in the bud, and her gifts too frequently misapplied. Louisa's slender waist was screwed into the size of deformity; her golden locks, which were meant to flow in ringlets round her face, were strained back from her forehead, and fastened in frightful directions with a variety of fine combs. Her dresses were all of the finest texture and most expensive sort, and she was equally vain of her person and her attire. Such was Louisa Villars at the age of twelve, when Miss Meadows was taken into the family as her governess. Unhappy Miss Meadows! what a pitiable situation, what an arduous task was yours!

Miss Meadows was a well-informed, sensible young woman. She was aware of the character of her pupil, yet she did not undertake the difficult task of her improvement entirely without hope of success. She found in Louisa the grand essential to work upon—a feeling heart—and therefore she despaired not of being able to 'sow the good seed' in a soil which would in time repay her labours.

In one of the neat and pretty cottages upon Mrs. Villars's estate dwelt Jonathan Holmes and his wife. They, like their richer neighbour, were possessed of an only daughter. Helen Holmes was a good, simple, and industrious girl. She led a useful, happy life, the comfort of her parents and the pride of the village. She was neat, active, and cheerful. She rose with the lark, and employed the whole of her long day in assisting her poor mother and cheering her honest and good father. No wonder, then, that she lay down at night happy and thankful to the enjoyment of sweet and sound repose.