When she could speak to Mrs. Dove alone, she earnestly besought that old friend to look after the child, her health, her dress, and above all to supply here lack of experience and give her kind counsel and advice.

“I will indeed, ma’am, as though she were my own,” promised Mrs. Dove.

“O nurse, I give my sweet jewel to your care; you know what a great house in London is better than I do.  You will warn her of any danger.”

“I will do my endeavour, ma’am.  We servants see and hear much, and if any harm should come nigh the sweet young miss, I’ll do my best for her.”

“Thank you, nurse, I shall never, never see her more in her free artless childishness,” said Betty, sobbing as if her heart would break; “but oh, nurse, I can bear the thought better since I have known that you would be near her.”

And at night, when her darling nestled for the last time in her arms, the elder sister whispered her warnings.  Her knowledge of the great world was limited, but she believed it to be a very wicked place, and she profoundly distrusted her brilliant kinswoman; yet her warnings took no shape more definite than—­“My dearest sister will never forget her prayers nor her Bible.”  There was a soft response and fresh embrace at each pause.  “Nor play cards of a Sunday, nor ever play high.  And my Aura must be deaf to rakish young beaux and their compliments.  They never mean well by poor pretty maids.  If you believe them, they will only mock, flout, and jeer you in the end.  And if the young baronet should seek converse with you, promise me, oh, promise me, Aurelia, to grant him no favour, no, not so much as to hand him a flower, or stand chatting with him unknown to his mother.  Promise me again, child, for naught save evil can come of any trifling between you.  And, Aurelia, go to Nurse Dove in all your difficulties.  She can advise you where your poor sister cannot.  It will ease my heart if I know that my child will attend to her.  You will not let yourself be puffed up with flattery, nor be offended if she be open and round with you.  Think that your poor sister Betty speaks in her.  Pray our old prayers, go to church, and read your Psalms and Lessons daily, and oh! never, never cheat your conscience.  O may God, in His mercy, keep my darling!”

So Aurelia cried herself to sleep, while Betty lay awake till the early hour in the morning when all had to be prepared for the start.  There was to be a ride of an hour and a half before breakfast so as to give the horses a rest.  It was a terrible separation, in many respects more complete than if Aurelia had been going, in these days, to America; for communication by letter was almost as slow, and infinitely more expensive.