'So they might, perhaps, to that of thy second, third, or fourth child, hadst thou been possessed of so many; but, in the meanwhile, thy first-born must have been fatally neglected. A child's education begins almost from the hour of its birth; and the mother who understands her task, knows that the circumstances which every moment calls forth, are the tools with which she is to work in order to fashion her child's mind and character. What would you think of the farmer who was to let his fields lie fallow for years, while he was employed in contriving a method of cultivating land to increase his gains ten-fold?' 'But I did not suffer Adeline's mind to lie fallow.--I allowed her to read, and I directed her studies.' 'Thou didst so; but what were those studies? and didst thou acquaint thyself with the deductions which her quick mind formed from them? No--thou didst not, as parents should do, inquire into the impressions made on thy daughter's mind by the books which she perused. Prompt to feel, and hasty to decide, as Adeline was, how necessary was to her the warning voice of judgment and experience!' 'But how could I imagine that a girl so young should dare to act, whatever her opinions might be, in open defiance of the opinions of the world?' 'But she had not lived in the world; therefore, scarcely knew how repugnant to it her opinions were; nor, as she did not mix in general society, could she care sufficiently for its good opinion, to be willing to act contrary to her own ideas of right, rather than forfeit it: besides, thou ownest that thou didst openly profess thy admiration of the sentiments which she adopted; nor, till they were confirmed irrevocably hers, didst thou declare, that to act up to them was, in thy opinion, vicious. And then it was too late: she thought thy timidity, and not thy wisdom, spoke, and she set thee the virtuous example of acting up to the dictates of conscience. But Adeline and thou are both the pupils of affliction and experience; and I trust that, all your errors repented of, you will meet once more to expiate your past follies by your future conduct.' 'I hope so too,' meekly replied Mrs Mowbray, whose pride had been completely subdued by self-upbraidings and distress: 'Oh! when--when will an answer arrive from London?' CHAPTER XXVII