I intend to pass rapidly over the years that elapsed till Constance became
a woman. Let us glance at her education. Vernon had not only had her
instructed in the French and Italian; but, a deep and impassioned scholar
himself, he had taught her the elements of the two great languages of the
ancient world. The treasures of those languages she afterwards conquered
of her own accord.

Lady Erpingham had one daughter, who married when Constance had reached
the age of sixteen. The advantages Lady Eleanor Erpingham possessed in
her masters and her governess Constance shared. Miss Vernon drew well,
and sang divinely; but she made no very great proficiency in the science
of music. To say truth, her mind was somewhat too stern, and somewhat too
intent on other subjects, to surrender to that most jealous of
accomplishments the exclusive devotion it requires.

But of all her attractions, and of all the evidences of her cultivated
mind, none equalled the extraordinary grace of her conversation. Wholly
disregarding the conventional leading-strings in which the minds of young
ladies are accustomed to be held--leading-strings, disguised by the name
of "proper diffidence" and "becoming modesty,"--she never scrupled to
share, nay, to lead, discussions even of a grave and solid nature. Still
less did she scruple to adorn the common trifles that make the sum of
conversation with the fascinations of a wit, which, playful, yet deep,
rivalled even the paternal source from which it was inherited.

It seems sometimes odd enough to me, that while young ladies are so
sedulously taught the accomplishments that a husband disregards, they are
never taught the great one he would prize. They are taught to be
_exhibitors_; he wants a _companion_. He wants neither a singing animal,