'And I am very glad that Lizzie saves her from so much of the labour of teaching now,' said Lady Merton.
'I see what you mean,' said Helen; 'I ought to help too.'
'Indeed, my dear, I had no intention of saying so,' said Lady Merton; 'yourself and your mamma can be the only judges in such a matter.'
'I believe Mamma does think that Lizzie has almost too much to do,' said Helen;
'but there has been less since Horace has been at school.'
'But Edward is fast growing up to take his place,' said her aunt.
'Edward will never take Horace's place,' said Helen; 'he will be five times the trouble. Horace could learn whatever he pleased in an instant, and the only drawback with him was inattention; but Edward is so slow and so dawdling, that his lessons are the plague of the school-room. His reading is tiresome enough, and what Lizzie will do with his Latin I cannot think; but that can be only her concern. And Winifred is sharp enough, but she never pays attention three minutes together; I could not undertake her, I should do her harm and myself too.'
'I am rather of your opinion, so far,' said Lady Merton; 'but you have said nothing against Dora.'
'Dora!' said Helen; 'yes, she has always been tolerably good, but she knows nearly as much as I do. Lizzie says she knows the reasons of a multiplication sum, and I am sure I do not.'
'Perhaps you might learn by studying with her,' aaid Lady Merton.
'Yes, Lizzie says she has learnt a great deal from teaching the children,' said Helen; 'but then she had a better foundation than most people. You know she used to do her lessons with Papa, and he always made her learn everything quite perfect, and took care she should really understand each step she took, so that she knows more about grammar and arithmetic, and all the latitude and longitude puzzling part of geography than I do--a great deal more.'
'I am sorry to find there is some objection to all the lessons of all the children,'
said Lady Merton.
'I suppose I might help in some,' said Helen; 'but then I have very little time; I have to draw, and to practise, and to read French and Italian and history to Mamma, and to write exercises; but then Mamma has not always leisure to hear me, and it is very unsatisfactory to go on learning all alone. At Dykelands there were Fanny and Jane.'
'I should not have thought a person with four sisters need complain of having to learn alone,' said her aunt.
'No more should I,' said Helen; 'but if you were here always, you would see how it is; Lizzie is always busy with the children, and learns her German and Latin no one knows when or how, by getting up early, and reading while she is dressing, or while the children are learning. She picks up knowledge as nobody else can; and Kate will only practise or read to Mamma, and she is so desultory and unsettled, that I cannot go on with her as I used before I went to Dykelands; and Dora--I see I ought to take to her, but I am afraid to do so--I do not like it.'
'So it appears,' said Lady Merton.
'I should think it the most delightful thing!' cried Anne.
'You two are instances of the way in which people wish for the advantages they have not, and undervalue those they have,' said Lady Merton, smiling.
'Advantages!' repeated Helen.
'Why, do not you think it an advantage to have sisters?' said Anne; 'I wish you would give some of them to me if you do not.'
'Indeed,' said Helen warmly, 'I do value my sisters very much; I am sure I am very fond of them.'
'As long as they give you no trouble,' said Lady Merton.
'Well,' said Helen, 'I see you may well think me a very poor selfish creature, but I really do mean to try to improve. I will offer to undertake Dora's music; Lizzie does not understand that, and it is often troublesome to Mamma to find time to hear her practise, and I think I should pay more attention to it than Kate does sometimes. I think Dora will play very well, and I should like her to play duets with me.'
'I am glad you can endure one of your sisters,' said Anne, laughing rather maliciously.
'Pray say no more of that, Anne,' said Helen; 'it was only my foolish indolence that made me make such a speech.'
As Helen finished speaking, Elizabeth came into the room, looking rather weary, but very blithe. 'I have been having a most delightful talk about the Consecration with the girls,' said she, 'hearing what they saw, and what they thought of it. Mary Watson took her master's children up the hill to see the church- yard consecrated, and the eldest little boy--that fine black-eyed fellow, you know, Helen--said he never could play at ball there again, now the Bishop had read the prayers there. I do really hope that girl will be of great use to those little things; her mistress says no girl ever kept them in such good order before.'
'I was going to compliment you on the good behaviour of your children at St.
Austin's, Lizzie,' said Lady Merton; 'I thought I never saw a more well conducted party.'
'Ah! some of our best children are gone to St. Austin's,' said Elizabeth; 'I quite grudge them to Mr. Somerville; I hate the girls to get out of my sight.'
'So do I,' said Anne, 'I am quite angry when our girls go out to service, they _will_
get such horrid places--public houses, or at best farm houses, where they have a whole train of babies to look after, and never go to church.'
'And very few of the most respectable fathers and mothers care where their children go to service,' said Elizabeth; 'I am sure I often wish the children had no parents.'
'In order that they may learn a child's first duty?' said Lady Merton.
'Well, but is it not vexatious, Aunt Anne,' said Elizabeth, 'when there is a nice little girl learning very well in school, but forgetting as soon as she is out of it, her mother will not put herself one inch out of the way to keep her there regularly; when the child goes to church continually, the mother never comes at all, or never kneels down
