And now, dear little readers, let me remind you that Aurora was a clever little girl, for the Fairy had taken care of that.  She had every faculty for learning, and no real dislike to it; but this unlucky Fairy gift was in the way of every thing she did, for it took away her interest in every thing but herself; and so, though she got through her lessons respectably, it was with many yawns, and not a few sighs, and wonderings what Mamma was doing; and did the Governess think there would soon be another dinner party? and didn’t the Governess, when she was a little girl, wish very much she was a grown up woman? and, finally, she wished she had been able to talk when she was a baby at her christening, because then me would have begged the Fairy Godmother to give her the gift of growing up to be a young lady very quick indeed, and of learning every thing without any trouble at all!  And so saying, Aurora yawned and laid down her book, and the poor Governess could hardly keep her temper at such repeated interruptions to the subject in hand.

“My dear,” she exclaimed, “Fairies have no power to counteract what God, has ordained, and he has ordained that we enjoy but little what we get at without labour and trouble.”

“Ah taisez-vous donc ma chere!” cried Aurora, flopping her ears with her hands, and running round the room shaking her long curls furiously.  “Vous me faites absolument fremir!  Excuse my French, but I am certain you are the eldest daughter of the old woman in the wood, and you are just now dropping vipers, toads, newts, and efts from your mouth at every word you utter!”

The good-natured Governess laughed heartily at the joke, for they had just been reading the old French fairy tale of “Les deux Fees,” and the application amused her; but she shook her head gravely at Aurora afterwards, and reminded her that no serious truth was well answered by a joke, however droll.

A bell rings, a carriage is at the door.  Miss Aurora is wanted.  Visiters!  Ah! here is happiness again!  But it lasts but a short time, and the reaction is the same as before—­drooping eyes, languid eyelids, and a sigh.

Books, drawing, music, work, even domestic recreations, all deprived of their charm through this idolatry of self!

The curtain closed over this scene.

“A charming child, Ianthe, but for your Fairy Gift, which is spoiling her.”

“I repeat to you we are no judges yet.  Now for riches, Euphrosyne!”

* * * * *

At the same hour of evening, and under the same circumstances, of a party about to assemble, let me introduce you to a beautiful little boudoir or up-stairs sitting-room adjoining an equally pretty sleeping apartment in a magnificent house in a town.  The passages are carpeted all over, and so are the boudoir and the sleeping-room, and they are furnished with sofas, easy chairs, and every description of luxurious comfort;