Then Miss Wimple broke the news to Madeline, by telling her that “an old friend of her father’s,” a wealthy Mr. Osgood, of New York, was in want of a governess for his two daughters, and had written to her on the subject;—­(a not very improbable story; for Madeline could not but be aware that in the conscientious and proud little bookseller was the making of a very respectable “Jane Eyre,” under favorable circumstances;)—­whereupon she had taken the liberty to recommend a clever and accomplished friend of her own, one Mrs. Morris, a widow,—­“of course, that’s you, Madeline,”—­and Mr. Osgood had accordingly done her the honor to offer the place to Mrs. Morris, and, “with characteristic consideration and delicacy,” had inclosed a check, by way of an advance on her salary, which would be liberal, to defray the expense of an outfit,—­“and there it was.”  His writing to her, Miss Wimple said, was a circumstance as strange as it was fortunate; for, in fact, she had, personally, but a very slight acquaintance with him, and was “quite sure she should not recognize him, if she were to see him now";—­as for his little girls, she had never seen them, nor even heard their names.  But Mr. Osgood’s character was of the very highest, and she rejoiced that Madeline would have so honorable, influential, and generous a protector, who had given his word that she should be received and entertained with the consideration due to a superior and esteemed friend.

[Never mind Miss Wimple’s white lies, my dear; there is no danger that they will be found filling the blank place in the Recording Angel’s book, left where his tear blotted out My Uncle Toby’s oath.  And in a purely worldly point of view, too, those touching offerings to Mercy were safe enough; for when Miss Wimple promised Madeline that she would find Mr. Osgood “a singularly discreet person, who would be sure not to annoy her with impertinent curiosity,” it was not said by way of a hint;—­she well knew, that, from the moment the proud and jealous Madeline departed across the threshold of the Hendrik Athenaeum and Circulating Library, she would set a close and solemn seal upon her heart and upon her lips, and the “old familiar faces” and places would be to her as the things that Memory is a silent widow for.  Nevertheless, in writing to Mr. Osgood, to acknowledge the receipt of the check, and to thank him, that cunning Miss Wimple took the precaution to put him in possession of as much of her personality as would serve his purpose in case of accident, and provide for the chance of a shock to his suspicious and vigilant governess.]

Madeline received Miss Wimple’s extraordinary good news with the silence of one bewildered.  Nor even when she had come fully to appreciate all the beauty and the joy of it, did she give audible expression to her gratitude; she was too proud—­or rather say, too religious—­to subject the divine emotion to the vulgar ordeal of words; she only kissed Miss Wimple’s hands, and mutely laid them on her bosom.