other lessons for Christie, and when this one was well learned she
was sent away to learn another phase of woman's life and labor.

While their domestics amused themselves with privy conspiracy and
rebellion at home, Mr. and Mrs. Stuart spent their evenings in
chasing that bright bubble called social success, and usually came
home rather cross because they could not catch it.

On one of these occasions they received a warm welcome, for, as they
approached the house, smoke was seen issuing from an attic window,
and flames flickering behind the half-drawn curtain. Bursting out of
the carriage with his usual impetuosity, Mr. Stuart let himself in
and tore upstairs shouting "Fire!" like an engine company.

In the attic Christie was discovered lying dressed upon her bed,
asleep or suffocated by the smoke that filled the room. A book had
slipped from her hand, and in falling had upset the candle on a
chair beside her; the long wick leaned against a cotton gown hanging
on the wall, and a greater part of Christie's wardrobe was burning
brilliantly.

"I forbade her to keep the gas lighted so late, and see what the
deceitful creature has done with her private candle!" cried Mrs.
Stuart with a shrillness that roused the girl from her heavy sleep
more effectually than the anathemas Mr. Stuart was fulminating
against the fire.

Sitting up she looked dizzily about her. The smoke was clearing
fast, a window having been opened; and the tableau was a striking
one. Mr. Stuart with an excited countenance was dancing frantically