dawdling at Albury Lodge. The first bell rings a quarter before six,
and at a quarter past I shall expect to see you in the schoolroom.
You will superintend the younger pupils' pianoforte practice from
that time till eight o'clock, at which hour we breakfast. From nine
till twelve you will take the second division of the second class
for English, according to the routine arranged by me, which you had
better copy from a paper I will lend you for that purpose. After
dinner you will take the same class for two hours' reading until
four; from four to five you will superintend the needle-work class.
Your evenings--with the exception of the careful correction of all
the day's exercises--will be your own. I hope you have a sincere love
of your vocation, Miss Crofton.'

I said I hoped I should grow to like my work as I became accustomed
to it. I had never yet tried teaching, except with my young sister
and brothers. My hear sank as I remembered our free-and-easy studies
in the sunny parlour at home, or out in the garden under the pink
and white hawthorns sometimes on balmy mornings in the early summer.

Miss Susan shook her head doubtfully.

'Unless you have a love of your vocation you will never succeed,
Miss Crofton,' she said solemnly.

I freely confess that this love she spoke of never came to me. I
tried to do my duty, and I endured all the hardships of my life in,
I hope, a cheerful spirit. But the dry monotony of the studies had
no element of pleasantness, and I used to wonder how Miss Susan
could derive pleasure--as it was evident she did--from the exercise of
her authority over those hapless scholars who had the misfortune to