She had had so many governesses: their accounts differed: poor Ethel was bewildered by a multiplicity of teachers, and thought herself a monster of ignorance.

They gave her a book at a Sunday School, and little girls of eight years old answered questions of which she knew nothing.

The place swam before her.

She could not see the sun shining on their fair flaxen heads and pretty faces.

The rosy little children holding up their eager hands, and crying the answer to this question and that, seemed mocking her.