health, however, caused me to resign the establishment to Emily, your former governess; but, unfortunately, her health, like mine, gave way under the severity of its duties.  She accordingly disposed of it, and accepted the important task of superintending the general course of your education, aided by all the necessary and usual masters.  To this, as you are aware, she applied herself with an assiduity that was beyond her yet infirm state of health.  She went to Cheltenham, where she recovered strength, and I undertook her duties until her return.  I then sought out for some quiet, pretty, secluded spot, where I could, upon the fruits of my own industry, enjoy innocently and peacefully the decline of, I trust, a not unuseful life.  Fortunately, I found our present abode, which I purchased, and which has been occasionally honored by your presence, as well as by that of your beloved mamma.  Several years passed, and the widow was not unhappy; for my daughter, at my solicitation, gave up her profession as a governess, and came to reside with me.  In the meantime, we happened to meet at the same party two individuals—­gentlemen—­who had subsequently the honor of carrying off the mother and daughter with flying colors.  The one was Dr. Scareman, to whom Emily—­my dear, unfortunate girl, had the misfortune to get married.  He was a dark-faced, but handsome man—­that is to say, he could bear a first glance or two, but was incapable of standing anything like a close scrutiny.  He passed as a physician in good practice, but as the marriage was—­what no marriage ought to be—­a hasty one—­we did not discover, until too late, that the practice he boasted of consisted principally in the management of a mad-house.  He is, I am sorry to say, both cruel and penurious—­at once a miser and a tyrant—­and if his conduct to my child is not kinder and more generous, I shall feel it my duty to bring her home to myself, where, at all events, she can calculate upon peace and affection.  The doctor saw that Emily was beautiful—­knew that she had money—­and accordingly hurried on the ceremony.

“Such is the history of poor Emily’s marriage.  Now for my own.

“Mr. Main waring was, like myself, a person who had been engaged in educating the young.  For many years he had conducted, with great success, a boarding-school that soon became eminent for the number of brilliant and accomplished men whom it sent into society and the institutions of the country.  Like me, he had saved money—­like me he lost his health, and like me his destiny conducted him to this neighborhood.  We met several times, and looked at each other with a good deal of curiosity; he anxious to know what kind of animal an old schoolmistress was, and I to ascertain with what tribe an old school-master should be classed.  There was something odd, if not comical, in this scrutiny; and the best of it all was, that the more closely we inspected and investigated, the more accurately did we discover that we were counterparts—­as