The widow was still reclining on the sofa, her cap put aside on account of the heat, a fan and scent-bottle beside her; and she received Flora with the languid, affected smile, which to that young lady was peculiarly unpleasing. "I hope that you have now recovered a little from your fatigue," said Flora, seating herself beside Emma. The only reply was a languid sigh, accompanied by a slight elevation of the eyebrows, and then a closing of the eyes. Flora paused for awhile, and played with the clasp of her bracelet, before she ventured to say, "Emma, there was one thing which I wished to ask you--have you perfect confidence in your black nurse?" The lady opened her eyes. "Oh! she’s the best creature in the world!" Here the scent-bottle was in requisition. "You know, of course, whether she is a Christian?" "Well--oh! why"--(each word was drawled forth as though to speak were too fatiguing)--"yes; she has a crucifix and beads; she is a Christian, I am sure of it." "And is it possible--" Flora felt herself beginning to warm with her subject, but with an effort of self-control she commanded herself, and proceeded in the same gentle tones as those in which she had commenced. "Do you think it desirable to trust her so entirely with the children? I viewed a little scene in the nursery to-day which gave me an idea that Johnny’s temper requires more judicious management." Emma looked so utterly indifferent, that Flora gave her a more lively description of the little scene, and of her own unpleasant part in it, than she had intended to have done. "Poor dear! he has so much spirit!" was the only observation of the mother. "But I have more painful things to tell you," said Flora, feeling utterly provoked; and without further reserve, she gave an account of Lyddie’s conduct at the press, which would greatly have distressed a tender and conscientious parent, but which only elicited the words "Poor dear!" uttered in a more sleepy tone than before. "But, Emma, this must not be!" exclaimed Flora, with kindling indignation; "these poor unhappy orphans are not to be left to acquire habits of dishonesty and untruth--" She stopped suddenly, for she knew that she had said too much; she saw it in the malignant expression which lighted for a moment the sleepy black eye, she felt it in the quick throbbing of her own heart. Glad was Flora that her mother’s entrance gave her an excuse for quitting the room. She sought her own in a very bitter spirit. "Mamma," said Flora to Mrs. Vernon, when they were both retiring to rest, "I fear that we shall have a dreadful time with this family! There will be no more comfort in the house. Those miserable, neglected children will be the torments of our lives!" "We must have patience with them, my love; they will not be neglected here."