“Oh, choose any life but ours, Miss Heriton! You little know the slights you would have to contend with--all your best feelings trampled on--all your aspirations crushed beneath the contempt or indifference of your sordid employers. You must be a lady in appearance, in education, in tastes and sympathies, or you are not fit to be the instructress of their children. But you must not consider yourself their equal; you must neither associate with them, nor expect consideration from them; and, above all,” she added, with a bitter laugh, “you must not permit their sons to fall in love with you.” “On the other hand,” said Susan gently, “you are fairly paid for your labor. By consistent conduct you cannot fail to win the respect and esteem of your employers; the children you teach often become very dear to you, and, on the whole, the hardships of a governess’ lot are not greater than those of any other profession.” “Look on this picture, and on that,” laughed Julia, “and then say, Miss Heriton, which strikes you most forcibly. Both are colored with truth, but I think mine is according to the rule, and Susan’s forms the exception.” “If I were embarking in this new undertaking solely on my own account,” Florence replied, after a few minutes’ consideration, “I think your sketch of its difficulties would frighten me. But it is for papa; and however toilsome or wearying the day might prove, I should be able to return to him at night, should I not?” Susan Denham pressed the hand Florence had laid on hers, as she instinctively turned to read encouragement in those soft brown eyes. “You will succeed, I think. A work begun in a right spirit rarely fails. Now tell us what we can do to help you.” “Yes, speak openly,” added Julia. “If it is a decided thing, I withdraw my opposition, and will do my best to get you pupils. Shall you teach under your own name?” Florence’s face flushed this time with a little pride. “I had not thought of that. Perhaps papa would not approve of it, and yet I should not like to assume a false one. “No slurs upon me, if you please,” cried Julia gayly. “But that surprised look proclaims your innocence. Know, then, that although at home I am simply Julia Denham, at the houses of my pupils I am La Demoiselle Julie, and my French is far more correct than my English. Susan shakes her head at me, but ladies will have foreign governesses if they can get them, and they pay them much more liberally than their own countrywomen. The substitution of Mademoiselle for plain Miss pays for my kid gloves and collars.” “Miss Heriton, I fancy, will be content with her own English appellation,” said Susan, who never approved of anything that savored of trickery. And she began to question and counsel Florence with as much tact as kindness.