"What a pretty story that is! I think Master and Miss Cartwright deserved those pretty toys--they were nice children: but I did not know that having rude manners was so very great a fault." "If you will think a minute, my dear," said Mrs. Goodriche, "you will find that rude manners must be one sign of badness of heart: a person who has always a lowly opinion of himself, and proper love for his neighbour, will never be guilty of rudeness; it is only when we think ourselves better than others, or of more consequence than they are, that we venture to be rude. I have heard you say how rude Miss Augusta Noble was the last time you were at her house. Now, why was she rude, but because she thought herself better than her company? This is pride, and a great sin it is." Sad Story of a Disobedient Child [Illustration: Looking in the glass, with a candle in her hand] When Mr. Fairchild returned from his walk he found John ready with the cart, so, wishing Mrs. Goodriche a good-evening, and thanking her for her kindness, they returned home. The next morning Mr. Fairchild got up early, and went down to the village. Breakfast was ready, and Mrs. Fairchild and the children waiting at the table, when he came back. "Get your breakfast, my dear," said he to Mrs. Fairchild; "don't wait for me." So saying, he went into his study and shut the door. Mrs. Fairchild, supposing that he had some letters to write, got her breakfast quietly; after which she sent Lucy to ask her father if he would not choose any breakfast. When Mr. Fairchild heard Lucy's voice at the study-door, he came out, and followed her into the parlour. When Mrs. Fairchild looked at her husband's face she saw that something had grieved him very much. She was frightened, and said: "My dear, I am sure something is the matter; what is it? Tell me the worst at once; pray do!" "Indeed, my dear," said Mr. Fairchild, "I have heard something this morning which has shocked me dreadfully. I was not willing to tell you before you had breakfasted. I know what you will feel when you hear it." "Do tell me," said Mrs. Fairchild, turning quite white. "Poor Augusta Noble!" said Mr. Fairchild. "What, papa?" said Lucy and Emily and Henry, in one voice. "She is dead!" exclaimed Mr. Fairchild. The children turned as pale as their mother; and poor Mrs. Fairchild nearly fainted. "Oh! poor Lady Noble! poor Lady Noble!" said she, as soon as she could speak. "Poor Lady Noble!" Whilst the children were crying over the sad news Mrs. Barker came into the parlour. Mrs. Barker was a kind woman, and, as she lived by herself, was always at liberty to go amongst her neighbours in times of trouble. "Ah, Mrs. Fairchild," she said, "I know what troubles you: we are all in grief through the whole village." "What was the cause of the poor child's death?" asked Mrs. Fairchild. "I never heard that she was ill."