"Like to be a fine lady! Well, perhaps you would—I am afraid you would, if the temptation ever came in your way. But it is never likely to come, my dear. The world will claim work at your hands as the price of your right to live in it." "But I might grow worldly and frivolous." "Yes, under any circumstances, in any society, you might become worldly; and a worldly woman is the saddest sight under heaven. But now let us understand what this word means. For as I understand it, the poorest as well as the richest may fall into this, and it is by no means confined to the gay fashionable world, as so many imagine. Shorn of its outward surroundings, worldliness is just another name for selfishness. Our own advantage, a pushing of our own claims, a desire and effort to outshine our neighbours and friends, are all so many forms of worldliness and selfishness; and these may be indulged, and often are, I am sorry to say, by religious people and even in religious work." "Oh, mamma!" exclaimed Mabel. "I know it by experience, Mabel. I once wanted to reprove a young friend for her love of dress, and so I had my winter bonnet made as dowdy as I well could. And, oh, how proud I was of that bonnet! What hard, uncharitable thoughts I indulged concerning those who wore a bit of bright ribbon! And I thought I ought to be noticed and held up as a pattern. I don't think I ever was so worldly before or since as I was while I wore that exemplary bonnet. And this spirit of worldliness may be carried into anything, spoiling the divinest service. While, if it is one's duty to mix in fashionable society, it may be done—it is done—without contracting a taint of worldliness. For there are those for whom our Master's prayer is constantly being fulfilled, and they are kept 'unspotted from the world.' So you see, my dear, it is the spirit we cultivate in ourselves that determines whether we are worldly or unworldly, and not the outward circumstances of our life." "But, mamma, outward circumstances do make some difference," said Mabel. "If we allow them to conquer us, Mabel, it will make all the difference. But we are not sent here to be the slave of circumstances, but to struggle and grow stronger for the fight. Now about your visit, dear. You will have to make up your mind before you go, to strive against yielding to the envious and perhaps covetous feelings that are pretty sure to arise in your heart, if they are not fought against and overcome. This is the form of worldliness you will be specially tempted to yield to, and not that of gay, fashionable society. For you and Isabel will spend most of your time in the school-room, I expect." "Then you think, mamma, I ought to go?" said Mabel. "Your father does, my dear, and—and if you were a little less impulsive, a little more willing to yield your own will and your own way, I should think it would be a splendid opportunity for you," said her mother.