“Happiness!” repeated Lilla, in an accent of extreme surprise.  “School bring happiness?”

“Are you happy at home, my love? is not your life at present one continued scene of wretchedness?  What is it that you so much dislike in the idea of school?”

“The control, the subordination, the irksome formula of lessons, prim governesses, satirical scholars.”  Neither Mrs. Hamilton nor Ellen could prevent a smile.

“If such things are all you dread, my dear, I have no fear of soon overcoming them,” the former said, playfully.  “I will do all I can to persuade your father not to send you to a large fashionable seminary, where such things may be the case; but I know a lady who lives at Hampstead, and under whose kind guidance I am sure you will be happy, much more so than you are now.  If you would only think calmly on the subject, I am sure you would agree in all I urge.”

“But no one treats me as a reasonable person at home.  If mamma sends me to school, it will not be for my happiness, but because everybody thinks me so wicked, there is no managing me at home; and then in the holidays I shall hear nothing but the wonderful improvement school discipline has made, it will be no credit to my own efforts, and so there will be no pleasure in making any.”

“Will there be no pleasure in making your father happy, Lilla?  Will his approbation be nothing?”

“But he never praises me; I am too much afraid of him to go and caress him, as I often wish to do, and tell him if he will only call me his dear Lilla, I would be good and gentle, and learn all he desires.  If he would but let me love him I should be much happier than I am.”

Mrs. Hamilton thought so too; and deeply she regretted that mistaken sternness which had so completely alienated the affections of his child.  Soothingly she answered—­

“But your father dearly loves you, Lilla, though, perhaps your violent conduct has of late prevented his showing it.  If you were, for his sake, to become gentle and amiable, and overcome your fears of his sternness, believe me, my dear Lilla, you would be rendering him and yourself much happier.  You always tell me you believe everything I say.  Suppose you trust in my assertion, and try the experiment; and if you want a second voice on my side, I appear to your friend Ellen for her vote as to the truth of what I say.”

Mrs. Hamilton spoke playfully, and Ellen answered in the same spirit.  Lilla’s passionate tears had been checked by the kind treatment she received, and in a softened mood she answered—­

“But I cannot become so while Miss Malison has anything to do with me.  I cannot bear her treatment gently.  Papa does not know all I have to endure with her.”

“And therefore do I so earnestly wish you would consent to my persuading your father to let you go to Hampstead,” answered Mrs. Hamilton, gently.

“But then papa will not think it is for his sake I endeavour to correct my faults; he will say it is the school, and not my own efforts; and if I go, I shall never, never see you, nor go to dear Moorlands, for I shall be away while papa and mamma are there; away from everybody I love.  Oh, that would not make me happy!” and clinging to Mrs. Hamilton, the really affectionate girl again burst into tears.