“But I will not weary you with details.  Suffice it to say; that I spent only three months of this kind of life, and then relinquished the protection of Mr. and Mrs. Somers, and removed to a second-rate boarding-house, where I attempted to maintain myself by giving lessons in music.  Every day, however, convinced me of my unfitness for this task, and, as I soon felt an interest in the sweet little girls who looked up to me for instruction, my position with regard to them became truly embarrassing.  One day I had been wearying myself by attempting the impossible task of making clear to another mind, ideas that lay confusedly in my own, and at last I said to my pupil,

“’You may go home now, Clara, dear, and practise the lesson of yesterday.  I am really ill to-day, but to-morrow I shall feel better, and I hope I shall then be able to make you understand me.’

“The child glided out, but a shadow still fell across the carpet.  I looked up, and saw in the doorway a young man, whose eccentricities sometimes excited a smile among his fellow-boarders, but who was much respected for his sense and independence.

“’To make yourself understood by others, you must first learn to understand yourself,’ said he, as he came forward.  Then, taking my hand, he continued,—­’What if you should give up all this abortive labour, take a new pupil, and, instead of imparting to others what you have not very firmly grasped yourself, try if you can make a human being of me?’

“I looked into his large gray eyes, and saw the truth and earnestness shining in their depths, like pebbles at the bottom of a pellucid spring.  I never once thought of giving him a conventional reply.  On the contrary, I stammered out,

“‘I am full, of faults and errors; I could never do you any good.’

“‘I have studied your character attentively,’ returned he, ’and I know you have faults, but they are unlike mine; and I think that you might be of great service to me; or, if the expression suits you better, that we might be of great aid to each other.  Become my wife, and I will promise to improve more rapidly than any pupil in your class.’

“And I did become his wife, but not until a much longer acquaintance had convinced me, that in so doing, I should not exchange one form of dependence for another, more galling and more hopeless.”

“Then this eccentric young man was Uncle Robert?”

“Precisely.  But you see he has made great improvement, since.”

“Well, Aunt Frances, I thank you for your story; and now for the moral.  What do you think I had better do?”