When very young, her beautiful eyes and hair caught the fancy of a rich lady, who took her into her family as a sort of humble playfellow for her children.  She was taught to dance and to sing:  she soon excelled in these accomplishments, and was admired, and produced as a prodigy of talent.  The lady of the house gave herself great credit for having discerned, and having brought forward, such talents.  Manon’s moral character was in the meantime neglected.  In this house, where there was a constant scene of hurry and dissipation, the child had frequent opportunities and temptations to be dishonest.  For some time she was not detected; her caressing manners pleased her patroness, and servile compliance with the humours of the children of the family secured their goodwill.  Encouraged by daily petty successes in the art of deceit, she became a complete hypocrite.  With culpable negligence, her mistress trusted implicitly to appearances; and without examining whether she were really honest, she suffered her to have free access to unlocked drawers and valuable cabinets.  Several articles of dress were missed from time to time; but Manon managed so artfully, that she averted from herself all suspicion.  Emboldened by this fatal impunity, she at last attempted depredations of more importance.  She purloined a valuable snuff-box—­was detected in disposing of the broken parts of it at a pawnbroker’s, and was immediately discarded in disgrace; but by her tears and vehement expressions of remorse she so far worked upon the weakness of the lady of the house as to prevail upon her to conceal the circumstance that occasioned her dismissal.  Some months afterwards, Manon, pleading that she was thoroughly reformed, obtained from this lady a recommendation to Madame de Fleury’s school.  It is wonderful that, people, who in other respects profess and practise integrity, can be so culpably weak as to give good characters to those who do not deserve them:  this is really one of the worst species of forgery.  Imposed upon by this treacherous recommendation, Madame de Fleury received into the midst of her innocent young pupils one who might have corrupted their minds secretly and irrecoverably.  Fortunately a discovery was made in time of Manon’s real disposition.  A mere trifle led to the detection of her habits of falsehood.  As she could not do any kind of needlework, she was employed in winding cotton; she was negligent, and did not in the course of the week wind the same number of balls as her companions; and to conceal this, she pretended that she had delivered the proper number to the woman, who regularly called at the end of the week for the cotton.  The woman persisted in her account, and the children in theirs; and Manon would not retract her assertion.  The poor woman gave up the point; but she declared that she would the next time send her brother to make up the account, because he was sharper than herself, and would not be imposed upon so easily.  The