A time had come when childish vanity and frivolity were verging on
levity and imprudence. Expostulations fell powerless on her
shallowness. Painful was the remembrance of the deprecating roguish
glance of the beautiful eyes, and the coaxing caresses with which she
kissed away the lecture, and made promises, only to forget them. She
was like the soulless Undine, with her reckless gaiety and sweetness,
so loving and childish that there was no being displeased with her,
so innocent and devoid of all art or guile in her wilfulness, that
her faults could hardly bear a harsher name than follies.

Again, Mrs. Ponsonby thought of the days when she herself had been
left to stay with her old uncle and aunt. In this very house while
her husband was absent abroad, when she had assisted them to receive
the poor young wife, sent home in failing health. She thought of the
sad weeks, so melancholy in the impossibility of making an
impression, or of leading poor Louisa from her frivolities, she
recalled the sorrow of hearing her build on future schemes of
pleasure, the dead blank when her prattle on them failed, the tedium
of deeper subjects, and yet the bewitching sweetness overpowering all
vexation at her exceeding silliness. Though full one-and-twenty
years had passed, still the tears thrilled warm into Mrs. Ponsonby's
eyes at the thought of Louisa's fond clinging to her, in spite of
many an admonition and even exertion of authority, for she alone
dared to control the spoilt child's self-will; and had far more power
than the husband, who seemed to act as a check and restraint, and
whose presence rendered her no longer easy and natural. One
confidence had explained the whole.

'You know, Mary dear, I always was so much afraid of him! If I had