stayed; to the great dissatisfaction of Mrs. Bloomfield, who, I well knew, would impute all the blame of the matter to me.
Another of my trials was the dressing in the morning: at one time she would not be washed; at another she would not be dressed, unless she might wear some particular frock that, I knew, her mother would not like her to have; at another she would scream, and run away if I attempted to touch her hair. So that, frequently, when, after much trouble and toil, I had, at length, succeeded in bringing her down, the breakfast was nearly half over; and black looks from "mamma," and testy observations from "papa," spoken at me, if not to me, were sure to be my meed; for few things irritated the latter so much as want of punctuality at meal-times.
Then, among the minor annoyances, was my inability to satisfy Mrs. Bloomfield with her daughter's dress; and the child's hair "was never fit to be seen." Sometimes, as a powerful reproach to me, she would perform the office of tire-woman herself, and then complain bitterly of the trouble it gave her.
When little Fanny came into the schoolroom, I hoped she would be mild and inoffen-
