Poor Miss Prosser was still severely tried; practical jokes were frequently played upon her, and although she was certain that Madeline had not taken an active part in them, still it pained her to see that even she could be amused at her expense. Matters grew worse instead of better; Madeline was impatient, and Lavinia indifferent. The month rolled on; Lavinia and her mother took their departure; and Miss Prosser endeavored once more to regain her influence over her pupil. "Come, Madeline, aren't you tired of play?" asked the governess. "No, indeed; I hate books and study, and long, sad faces; Lavinia don't go to school but half the year, and I am going to coax papa to let me stop until next winter." "Just come, now, Madeline, and let us read a little together; you have not said one lesson for three weeks." "Well, I suppose I must, just to please you, Miss Prosser; but let it be a short one." Maddy soon commenced yawning, and as soon as the lesson was over, brought out her favorite volume of Shakspeare, and really did manage to spend another hour in searching for beauties in her pet author; but one hour was sufficient, and, begging to be excused, she was gone. And thus the patience of the poor lady was taxed daily, her spirits sank, and too conscientious to hold such a position, she fully made up her mind to resign. Accordingly, on the next day, Madeline's father was summoned to the library. "I have sent for you, Mr. Hamilton, to resign my charge; I have tried it for six months, but in vain. Your child has the brightest talents, but the system of indulgence pursued towards her, precludes entirely the possibility of improvement. I must have my pupils advance, or I cannot be happy. I have nothing else to complain of; my quarter will expire next week, and then I feel that I ought to leave." "I am sorry, Miss Prosser; but I suppose that it cannot be helped." The lady smiled at this acknowledgment of weakness; but her resolution was taken. The sad, pale teacher took her leave on the following Saturday, and when Madeline found that she was really going, with the perverseness of such wayward natures, she was actually sorry; she had learned to respect her governess, and really liked her better than any who had ever taught her before. "Good-bye, Miss Prosser; I am sorry that I have been so naughty, but I can't help it. Papa says so; and I know it is so. Here's a breastpin, with some of Mad-cap's hair in it; will you show that you forgive me by wearing it?" "Thank you, my dear child; I shall always remember your warm little heart; and if ever you change your ways, and desire to hear from your friend, write to Messrs. Wood & Co., Boston. I think that you will, Madeline; but some one else must be the teacher. I have tried my utmost, and failed."