heart's Ishmaelite--that truth which, incased in the armor of human
pride, ever turns its hand against its fellow: but Emma did not fear
this "strong man armed;" so she was led captive by him at his will.

Thus she was growing up like a beautiful flower thickly set with
thorns. There were, however, some among her mother's fashionable
friends who professed themselves charmed with her wit and originality.

Martha had passed the age at which her young sisters began to decline,
and gave evidence of established health. She was now allowed to attend
evening parties, and was found very tolerably, though not what the
world calls "highly accomplished." There were those, however, who
thought that Martha's solid education, good judgment, good sense, and
good taste, were accomplishments enough. Mrs. Lindsay could not help
feeling very well satisfied with her discreet, amiable daughter, though
she was not eligible to a place in the ball-room, having never learned
to dance.

But it was not until people began to call Emma a comical little beauty,
and beg her mother to fetch her to their select evening parties, that
Mrs. Lindsay ceased to feel chagrined at the sacrifice made to
affection. Emma was not long in learning by what pretty names she was
called; and with this knowledge came the strong desire to sustain a
reputation for wit and beauty. Dora saw the canker-worm at the root of
that precious plant for whose perfection she had waited with long
patience.

Emma sometimes came home and repeated her triumphs and comicalities to
this faithful friend, but receiving no answering smile, but, on the
contrary, a solemn word of reproof or warning, she would often burst