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I 
I 

I 



CHILDREN'S BOOK 
COLLECTION 

* 

LIBRARY OF THE 

UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA 

LOS ANGELES 



ME TAMOKPHO SE S 




Isabella and ^lary Ann. Jtnhne leheving 1 a diltrefsed Fanrilv 
ride Jtfetanur/du'.w /><w& JK; Jci 

Jufy ZfjAJf fv TTWartcn Jin r 



THE 

METAMORPHOSES; 

OR, 

EFFECTS OF EDUCATION: 

A TALE. 



BY THE AUTHOR 

Of "Aunt Mury's Tales" " The Ornaments Discovered" 



L O X D O N: 



FOR WILLIAM DARTON, 58, HOLBORN-H1LL. 



1822. 

{Price fatf-a-C 



TO 



MARIA EDGEWORTH, 

The loell- known Author of many admirable Books for 
Children. 



MADAM, 

I TRUST the respect and admiration which dic- 
tate this little offering may serve, in some de- 
gree, as my apology lor the liberty which I take 
in making it; and should be most happy at its 
being received by you as a token of esteem and 
gratitude; gratitude for the instruction which 
my infant years received from your interesting 
publications ; as well as the amusement, blended 
with instruction, which has been afforded to my 
more mature age, by those of a higher nature. 
I have presumed to make an attempt at tread- 
ing the same path which you have so successful- 
ly travelled, and should feel highly gratified at 
being discovered to be even a humble follower. 
I must own, however, that, highly us I have 



ever admired the productions of your genius, I 
have found it a difficult task to avoid the incli- 
nation to copy, rather than to imitate ; though I 
hope I shall be found to be guiltless of theft, 
even in the midst of objects of admiration so 
various and multiplied. But, should a resem- 
blance to your correct judgment, your noble sen- 
timents of morality, or your fascinating powers 
of entertaining, be discovered in any of the little 
works which I offer to the public, the uninten- 
tional plagiarism will be acknowledged with satis- 
faction and pride by, 

Madam, 

Yours with the highest respect 
and admiration, 

THE ATTHOR. 



METAMORPHOSES, &c. 



CHAPTER I. 



AFTER all, Laura, (said Captain Darnley, stopping 
abruptly in the middle of the floor which he had 
paced for some time backwards and forwards, as if 
' 



walking a ship's deck,) after all, I cannot conceive 
why a woman, so calculated to shine in fashionable 
life, should voluntarily condemn herself to live in the 
retired way you do, except from motives of econo- 
my; and that, considering your husband's liberal 
income, can only be caused by a degrading love of 
money. 

That is indeed a very serious charge, brother, (re- 
plied Mrs. Mackenzie good-temperedly, ) and 1 do 
not know what you will say when I acknowledge the 
truth, at least, of your first supposition. 

Then I will answer for the last (returned the 
Captain hastily) ; for what occasion on earth can you 
have to be so economical, except you love money 
better than any thing else ? and who would ever have 
thought of your becoming so mean and contempti- 
ble ? I wonder where you learned it ; not, I am 
sure, from any of your own family, nor yet from 
your husband, for it is you that have spoiled him : 
he had no taste for such work before he married 
you! He always seemed disposed to live in a 



style suited to his fortune, and to show that he had 
a heart to enjoy what he possessed ; but now, in- 
stead of that, we find him living as though he could 
scarcely get his way kept clear. 

Now, my good brother, (said Mrs. Mackenzie 
when the Captain had at length talked himself out of 
breath, and was again pacing the floor,) will you be 
so good as to tell me what it is, in our mode of liv- 
ing, that is so very disagreeable to you ? Are you 
dissatisfied with our house ? Do you not think it 
large enough ? 

. Oh! as to your house, for that matter, it might 
serve a nobleman : and I must say that your grounds 
are beautiful. 

Then, have we not a sufficient number of ser- 
vants ? 

O yes ! quite ; and I must acknowledge, too, that 
you keep a very excellent table. 

And as to our carriage, you yourself admired it 
the other day : and, on the same day, you gratified 
me by saying, you thought we had an uncommonly 
pleasant circle of friends ; and that you had never 
paid more pleasant visits in your life than yoa had 
' done since you were our guest. 

Very true, I did so. 

Then what is it we are to amend ? 

Why, your general mode of living, to be sure. You 
visit, it is true, amongst a choice circle of friends ; 
but still the world knows nothing of you. Whilst 
Mrs. M'Gregor and Mrs. Macpherson, and Mrs. 
Mac this and Mrs. Mac that, are giving their routs 
and their balls, who ever hears of Mrs. Mackenzie's? 
And why should not your house be open to your 
friends, as well as other people's ? 

To my friends it will always, I hope, be open 



(replied Mrs. Mackenzie) ; but I can enjoy their 
society better in visits of a quieter nature ; and on 
mere acquaintance I am not disposed to throw away 
so much time. 

Ah, Laura ! I suspect the money too has some- 
thing to do with it. Is it not because you set too 
high a value on it? 

I do certainly set too high a value on it to be will- 
ing to spend it where I expect neither pleasure nor 
profit in return. 

But pray why should you not expect as much, 
both of pleasure and profit, as other people ? I am 
sure you are as well calculated both to give and re- 
ceive them as any body I know. You have beauty 
and talents, should you not let them be seen and 
admired ? 

I have no objection to being seen, and am very 
willing to be admired (said Mrs. Mackenzie, smil- 
ing) ; but might I not purchase that gratification at 
too high a rate ? for, whilst I was admired abroad, 
what would become of my husband and children at 
home ? Is it not possible that they might suffer for 
this indulgence of my vanity ? 

Let your husband go with you, and join in, and 
partake of, the admiration (answered her brother) ; 
and as for the children, the nursery-maids are suffi- 
cient for some of them, and the others you have 
only to send to school, and they will be taken care 
of for you. 

That is a kind of work which I could not easily 
be induced to turn over to any one while capable of 
performing it myself (said Mrs. Mackenzie). 

Oh ! that is owing to your foolish notions about 
education (returned the Captain). How do other 
people's children do, think you, that are kept in 
u 2 



the nursery, and scarcely ever allowed to see their 
father or mother ? When they are old enough, they 
are sent to school, and remain there, without seeing 
home above once or twice a-year, till it is time, if 
boys, to be sent to college ; and, if girls, to be in- 
troduced into the world. And yet I cannot see but 
they make their way through it just as well as those 
who have ten times the fuss made about them. 

It happens, sometimes, no doubt, (answered Mrs. 
Mackenzie, ) that there is a mind to be found with 
sufficient strength to make its way with credit and 
propriety, in spite of every disadvantage ; but, in 
general, I believe they need every aid that ex- 
perience, when most judiciously applied, can give 
them. Can you wonder then, with such ideas of the 
importance of education, that I should consider it 
a duty to pay the closest attention to that of my own 
children ? 

I do not wonder at all, considering your way of 
thinking ; but I wish to convince you that you are 
mistaken in your opinions. 

I am afraid you will find that a very difficult 
matter. 

It would not be, if you would allow yourself li- 
berty to think about it properly. Do you not be- 
lieve that a child will grow up with the dispositions 
and temper which nature gave it, in spite of every 
thing that you can do to prevent it ? Do you expect 
to work miracles ? Do you think it would have been 
possible for any education to have made me a studi- 
ous, learned philosopher ? 

I believe it would have been very difficult, and 
still more so to have planted one vicious inclination 
in your heart ; and yet I have little doubt, that ha- 
bit and example might in time have had the effect. , 



The conversation was here interrupted by the en- 
trance of Mr. Mackenzie, followed immediately by 
a servant, who brought a letter to the Captain, which 
he had no sooner perused, than he put it into hi* sis- 
ter's hand without speaking, when Mrs. Mackenzie 
immediately read the following: 

To CAPTAIN DARNLEY, 

Frederick Mackenzie s^ Esq. 

Oaklands, near Edinburgh. 
My Dear Sir, 

You very benevolently gave me a commission at 
the time of the death of your nephew, Mr. Henry 
Frankland, to keep a watch over his family, and let 
you know when there was any prospect of serving 
them. I have had little opportunity, during the in- 
termediate two years, of executing the commission, 
as Mrs. Frankland has always shown an invincible 
jealousy towards her husband's relations. I was 
surprised, however, three days ago, to receive a 
message from ]her, informing me that she was ex- 
tremely ill, and wished much to speak to me as soon 
as possible. I need hardly say that 1 immediately 
obeyed the summons, and was much shocked to rind 
her, to all appearance, dying. Her unfortunate 
love of gaiety had induced her to neglect a cold, 
which had hung long upon her, till a severe inflam- 
mation on the lungs was the consequence, which 
was evidently terminating her existence in a very ra- 
pid manner. Her wish was, to let me know that she 
had nominated me as her executor ; and had left a 
request, that you would take upon yourself the 
guardianship of her children, who are two little 
girls of about five or six years old, but for whom, j 



am sorry to say, a fetf hundred pounds is all that 
is left for, unfortunately, neither father nor mother 
was in the habit of looking to futurity. Mrs. Frank- 
land lived only a very few hours after these arrange- 
ments, but died much comforted by my assurances 
of your being kindly interested for her children. I 
took them home with me, where they are at present 
very happy with my young people, who are also 
much pleased with them. It has been suggested to 
me, that, in consequence of their father having been 
so general a favourite, a handsome subscription might 
easily be raised, for the purpose of educating them 
for useful situations, where they might be enabled 
to provide respectably for themselves : I have de- 
clined, howerer, taking any steps of this nature, till 
I hear from you. which 1 have no doubt will be as 
goon as possible. They are two very fine sensible 
children, and exceeding]}' pretty, particularly the 
youngest, who was her mother's favourite, and is 
certainly by much the most engaging. In the hope 
of being favoured as soon as possible with your 
commands respecting your new charge, 

I remain, my dear Sir, 
Yours very sincerely, 

THOMAS CROMPTON. 

What must I do in this business ? (said the Cap- 
tain as Mrs. Mackenzie finished reading the letter, 
and put it into her husband's hand for the same pur- 
pose): what must be done with these poor little 
helpless brats ? 

That matter will easily be settled, I think (an- 
swered his sister). 

I cannot tell how you would settle it (returned 
the Captain) ; but I am sure / am at a loss. 



My brother (said Mrs, Mackenzie with a took 
of great sweetness) must adopt them as his own, 
and employ me to take charge of them till he quits 
his profession, and conies to settle amongst us, and 
can take his two daughters to himself. 

The Captain again made a sudden stop in the mid- 
dle of the floor, and, looking at his sister's counte- 
nance, as if to find out, by examining it, whether 
she were not in jest, at length exclaimed, on being 
convinced of the contrary, Is it possible, Laura, that 
you can be so blind to your own interest as to make 
such a proposal ? 

I wonder when you are to understand the strange 
mixture of my composition (said Mrs. Mackenzie 
smiling). 

Indeed I cannot tell you, for it appears to me to 
be a thing altogether incomprehensible, that a wo- 
man, who can calculate so closely upon the expenses 
of a few entertainments in the year, should, of her 
own accord, advise me to adopt two children, when 
she knows that her own are at present the only ones 
to inherit tjfre money which I shall leave behind me 
at my death. 

The only difficulty lies in your ascribing your sis- 
ter's retired way of living to a wrong motive (said 
Mr/Mackenzie); if retired it can be called, when 
she is in the constant habit of enjoying, in a rational 
way, the society of a select, but far from confined, 
circle of friends. She avoids all great entertainments, 
not merely because she thinks it wrong to spend so 
much money in so unprofitable a manner, but on ac- 
count of the time that they consume, which she 
proves may be employed to much more advantage. 
I need not, I am sure, remind you, that it is the 
economical alouc who can be truly generous ; and it 



is your sister's good management which makes her so 
indifferent about any additional fortune for our chil- 
dren. She knows that we have already sufficient for 
their happiness and respectability, and her judicious 
economy is yearly increasing it. 

Then I am to suppose that this plan meets with 
your approbation (said the Captain) ? 

Most decidedly (answered Mr. Mackenzie). 

Then I will now own to you, that, whilst reading 
the letter, the thought occurred to myself of adopting 
these poor little orphans ; but I was afraid it would 
be unjust to your children, who have so much nearer 
a claim. 

Can the children of a sister, whose means are am- 
ple, and who devotes herself to their care, have a 
nearer claim than these poor unprotected grandchil- 
dren of another, whom I know you loved most fond- 
ly? (said Mrs Mackenzie, the tear of sensibility 
trembling in her eye.) 

But what was it that made them portionless ? (re- 
turned her brother:) was it not their father's extra- 
vagance ? And what did I not do for him ? Did I 
not throw thousands away upon him ? 

That is very true (answered Mrs. Mackenzie); 
but his innocent children must not suffer for the 
faults of their parents. Henry was, perhaps, more 
to be pitied than blamed. He lost his excellent mo- 
ther when he was too young to have derived any 
lasting advantage from her care and attention ; and 
his father's foolish indulgence laid the foundation of 
all his future errors. * 

Aye, that is according to your ideas of the effects 
of education. 

It is so : and on that principle I should be most 
anxious that his children should prove more fortu- 



nate. I hope, therefore, that you will intrust them 
to my care for the present ; and nothing shall be 
wanting, that is within my power, to make their lives 
both happier and more respectable than that of ei- 
ther of their parents. 

But this plan of yours is really an unreasonable 
stretch of generosity, Laura (said the Captain) ; you 
know it is fully in my power to put them to the best 
schools ; and therefore quite unnecessary that you 
should have the trouble of them in addition to your 
own family. 

It will be in my power to pay them closer atten- 
tion than they could possibly receive at any school 
where the care is more divided (replied Mrs. Mac- 
kenzie) ; and, as to the trouble, where there are pro- 
per arrangements made for the accommodation of a 
family of children, the addition of one or two more 
makes but little difference. Besides, you know mine 
are all boys, so that girls will make an agreeable 
change in my employment. Do not, therefore, have 
any scruples on my account, but act at once about 
thinking how they are to be brought here. 

That I have determined upon already. I intend 
to go for them myself, and will take a walk down to 
Leith now, and make inquiries about a ship. 

A ship ! (repeated Mrs. Mackenzie, with surprise :) 
you would not surely think of going by sea at this 
time of the year ! in March, the very time of the 
spring equinoxes. 

And why not, pray ? Does a sailor make any 
scruple about times or seasons ? Do you think, if 
called away on duty, I should wait to consider what 
time of the year it was ? And is not this a call of 
duty ? 

True (replied Mrs. Mackenzie), but there is no 



10 

need of running unnecessary risks : for the duty wiil 
be as well performed if you take the advantage of a 
safe conveyance, and go up in the Mail. 

Not I, indeed, (cried the Captain, shrugging his 
shoulders,) I should never be able to straighten my 
legs more, after having them cramped up so long in 
a carriage. No, no ! give me a good ship, and 
plenty of sea-room, and let them enjoy the land con- 
veyances that like them. 

But you will not think of bringing the poor chil- 
dren down in the same manner? Surely you will 
have more consideration for them? (remonstrated 
Mrs. Mackenzie.) 

Not a bit of it (replied the Captain in his usual 
abrupt manner) ; let them learn to stem the storms 
of life in time: it will be the better for them. I 
have no notion of making spoiled babies of them ! 

And yet I know no one more likely to fall into the 
error ( said his sister, smiling). 

I wish, uncle, (said Douglas, a boy of about eight 
years' old, who had come into the room time enough 
to understand the conversation,) that I might go 
and help you to take care of them. 

That is very well said, my boy (cried the Cap- 
tain, clapping his head with great satisfaction) ; that 
is very well said, indeed ; and, as a reward, you shall 
take a walk with me to inquire about a ship. 

I should like it very much (replied Douglas, 
blushing), but I cannot go to-day. 

Why not? (asked his uncle.) Were you not 
saying, the other day, that you should like so much 
to go into a ship with me, that I might explain the 
uses of the different parts ? You had better take me 
at my word now, for I may perhaps be off before 
another opportunity offers. 



I am very sorry (said Douglas), but I must not 
go to-day. 

What is the reason of this ? (asked the Captain, 
surprised at the boy's steady manner, and address- 
ing himself to his sister). 

I cannot tell the reason (answered Mrs. Mac- 
kenzie), but I have no doubt there is some sufficient 
one ; as I know it is a proposal that Douglas's incli- 
nations would induce him to accept with joyfulness. 
1 think, however, my dear boy, (added she, ad- 
dressing herself to her son,) your uncle has a right 
to hear your reason. 

Then the reason, Mamma, (said the little boy, 
blushing deeply,) is, because I know my papa and 
you will not think I deserve it, when you hear that 
I have just been in a passion, and struck Frederick a 
blow, which made his nose bleed. I came to tell 
you of it, for I knew he would not, and was only 
waiting till you were at liberty. 

You judged very right, indeed, in supposing you 
ought not to accept your uncle's kindness (replied 
his mother gravely). 

But your honesty ought to save you from punish- 
ment (said the Captain) : I think, sister, you ought 
to forgive him, when he jias been so honest as to 
make the confession himself. 

I will leave it to himself to judge, whether he de- 
serves to be so indulged, after hurting so kind a 
brother in a fit of passion (replied Mrs. Macken- 
zie). 

Come then, my boy (said the Captain, holding 
out his hand, not doubting for a moment his ne- 
phew's willingness to have the matter dropt). 

No, thank you, uncle, (said Douglas, holding back 
his hand;) I would rather not go ; but. if you will 



12 

take Frederick, I am sure it will give him a great 
deal of pleasure ; and, without waiting for any fur- 
ther remark, he ran out of the room to find his bro- 
ther. This is a fine fellow (exclaimed the Captain), 
and will, some day or other, be an honour to us all. 

I must, however, beg (said Mr. Mackenzie) as 
a favour, that you will neither attempt any further to 
move his resolution, nor to praise him too much for 
it. He has only done what was right, and must not 
be applauded as though lie had done some extraor- 
dinary deed. 

Oh, you will damp the boy's generous spirit (ex- 
claimed the Captain); you ought to reward such 
noble behaviour, or you cannot expect it to be prac- 
tised again. 

We do not wish for sudden flights of generosity, but 
a s f .eady and conscientious principle of action (an- 
swered Mr, Mackenzie). If Douglas acted as he has 
done with the expectation of converting censure 
into praise, he deserves to be disappointed ; but if 
it was the effect of principle, it will be a sufficient 
reward for him to be told that he has done what was 
right, and that his mother and I are satisfied with 
his conduct. 

Frederick's wounds being healed, and his incli- 
nation being perfectly in unison with his uncle's in- 
vitation, they soon set out on their walk. 

You need not go away, Douglas (said Mrs. Mac- 
kenzie to her son, on seeing him about to leave the 
room, as soon as his uncle and brother were gone) ; 
as you have shown yourself sensible of your fault, 
and have had the resolution to inflict this punishment 
upon yourself, your papa and I will not take any 
further notice of it, but will trust to your good sense 
to avoid a future transgression of the same kind. 



The little boy returned with joy and animation 
sparkling in his eyes, and proved, by his solicitude 
to please, his gratitude for being so easily forgiven. 

The Captain found a ship ready to sail the next 
morning; and, as he always travelled in so plain 
a style as to need little preparation, he secured 
his passage. It was not many days before Mrs. 
Mackenzie received a letter, announcing his arrival 
in London ; for he made a point, in consideration of 
what he called her womanish fears, to write imme- 
diately. He had not then, however, had time to see 
his two little wards, and could therefore give no in- 
formation about them ; but it was not more than 
another week before Mrs. Mackenzie received the 
following letter : 

TO MRS. MACKENZIE. 

Dear Sister, 

I am sorry to have to inform you, that the third 
day after I arrived here, I received directions to join 
my ship immediately, which is ordered abroad ; but 
where, I am unable to tell you. I am sorry it will 
not be in my power to return to Edinburgh, parti- 
cularly as it will deprive me of the opportunity of 
rewarding Douglas for his conscientious behaviour, 
by taking him to see the frigate that is lying at 
Leith. 1 hope, however, that his father will do it 
for me ; and, though he may not know quite so much 
about a ship as I do, he will still be able to give him 
a great deal of information. Tell Frederick, that I 
begin to think it is well that I did not stay much 
longer with him, lest my head should have got cram- 
med so full of philosophy as to make me unwilling 
to go to sea again. I am sure, at least, that I should 
have been more and more unwilling to leave him, 



14 

the longer I had staid with him ; for he is a good 
lac), and bore all my jokes about his gravity and 
learning like a man. i must now tell you that 1 have 
got one of your charges taken off your hand. I have 
had a letter from Lady Ann Stanley, (who I believe 
you know was a very intimate friend of their mo- 
ther's,) offering to adopt Julia as her own ; which is 
an offer not to be refused, though I cannot say but I 
am sorry she did not make choice of Isabella, as Julia 
is so much the pleasanter child, that I could have 
wished you to have had her. As a specimen of the 
two dispositions, I will relate a little circumstance 
which occurred the other day. I had them both out 
walking with me, and took them into a confectioner's 
shop, and gave each of them a cake. Julia began to 
eat hers immediately, and had just finished, when a 
poor boy came to the door to beg. He told a piteous 
tale about being very hungry, and his mother not 
having any thing to give him to eat ; which on Ju- 
lia's hearing, she turned round to her sister, and 
asked her to give him her cake. Isabella, however, was 
not so charitably disposed, but said she was hungry 
herself. I held back on purpose to try what they 
would make out between them ; when Julia, who 
could not resist the repeated solicitations of the lit- 
tle beggar, took a cake off the counter, without saying 
a word, and gave it to him. I then came forward, and, 
pretending to be serious, (though in fact delighted 
with her readiness to serve the poor boy,) asked her 
if she had any money to pay for the cake. No, 
she answered, but she would pay for it the first time 
she got any. What will you give me, if I pay for 
it ? said I Oh ! I will give you one of my best 
kisses, she answered, and held up her pretty little 
mouth with the most engaging sweetness. You 



may be sure, I did not think the kiss dearly bought 
by discharging the debt ; whilst Isabella ate her cake, 
without taking any notice of what passed. It is no 
wonder that Julia was the favourite with her mother, 
for she is the same with every body else. I am 
sorry that Isabella is not more like her, for your sake, 
though I know you will bear with her with more pa- 
tience than any other person would, and she will be 
an excellent subject for your experiments in educa- 
tion. Ifyou ever make any thing of her but a selfish, 
narrow-minded soul, I will become henceforward a 
convert to your opinion ; but I have not a notion 
that the most careful management can make a bad 
tree produce good fruit. I have been so fortunate 
as to meet with a gentleman who is going to Edin- 
burgh, and who will kindly take the trouble of con- 
veying her thither. They set off to-morrow or 
next day ; so that you may expect to see them soon 
after the receipt of this letter. About the same time 
I shall set out for Portsmouth, where I have to join 
my ship, and shall take Southampton in my way, 
that I may leave Julia with Lady Ann. I do not 
intend, however, to give her up entirely to her lady- 
ship, but will only lend her to her, during my ab- 
sence ; for, when it is in my power to have them 
with me, I do not think it would be right to separate 
them. 

I never wrote so long a letter as this in my life 
before, excepting to give an account of an engage- 
ment. What a strange thing, that I, who have al- 
ways laughed at people for talking so much about 
their children, should fall into the same error as soon 
as ever the temptation came in my way ! I know, 
however, that I could not meet with any one more 
ready to forgive the fault than you will be, and shall 
c 2 



16 

not therefore lengthen my letter by apologies ; but 
only add, with sincere love to all your tribe of Mac- 
kenzies, that 

I am your affectionate brother, 

HENRY DARNLEY. 

P.S. I inclose Lady Ann's letter, by way of giv- 
ing you an idea what a kind friend Julia has gained, 
and that you may be the more reconciled to her not 
coming to you. I must confess, however, that I 
should have liked it quite as well if it had been writ- 
ten in a plainer style but every body has his way. 

When Mrs. Mackenzie read their uncle's letter to 
her sons, they expressed great regret at being dis- 
appointed of the pleasure of seeing him again ; for, 
under the appearance of considerable bluntness of 
manner, he possessed a most affectionate and happy 
disposition, and never failed to secure the hearts of 
all around him, particularly the younger branches of 
the family, of whom he was in the habit of taking a 
great deal of notice ; and though they were some- 
times rather at a loss how to understand his jokes, 
his good-tempered laugh soon convinced them that 
nothing was further from his mind than ill-nature. 

But what do you think of the account of your 
cousins? (said Mrs. Mackenzie.) 

It was very humane of Julia to be so anxious that 
the poor little boy should have something to eat 
(said Douglas, who, though younger, was generally 
readier at speaking than his more deliberate bro- 
ther) ; yet I think it was not quite right of her to give 
him a cake that was not her own. However, it was 
at any rate better than Isabella's selfishness. 

I should like to know (said Frederick) whether 
Isabella would not have parted with hers, if she had 



17 

been made to understand, that, though she was hun- 
gry, she was sure of getting as much food as she 
Deeded very soon ; but the poor little boy might, 
perhaps, wait a long time before he got any thing to 
satisfy his hunger. Besides (added he), I do not 
think it was honest of Julia to give what did not be- 
long to her. 

Oh! but you know (returned Douglas) she in- 
tended to pay for it as soon as she got money. 

It is dangerous, however, (said their mother,) to 
be generous at the expense of prudence. To incur 
debt for the sake of giving away, is running a great 
risk of being generous at the cost of another. 

Would you then have had her let the poor boy go 
away without any thing, mamma ? (asked Douglas.) 

There is another expedient, which she might per- 
haps first have tried. 

What is that, mamma? 

Ask your brother if he can find it out. 

When she found that she had nothing of her own 
to give, and could not prevail upon her sister, I 
would have had her apply to my uncle (answered 
Frederick). 

But J dare say she was in too great a hurry to 
relieve the poor boy, to recollect that my uncle was 
there. She had too much feeling to go so deliberate- 
ly to work. 

It is a very mistaken notion of feeling, my dear 
Douglas, to honour impetuosity with that name (re- 
plied his mother). Charity ought to be given with 
prudence and deliberation, that what we have to give 
may be applied in the most judicious manner ; and 
we ought always to be careful not to deceive our- 
selves with the idea that we are generous when we 
only give what it costs iitf nothing to part with. 
t 15 



18 

Mrs. Mackenzie no\v took up Lady Ann Stanley's 
letter, which, as a characteristic epistle, may not, 
perhaps, be unamusing to our readers. 

To CAPTAIN DARXLEY, 

Thomas Cromptons, Esq. 
No. 15, Grosvenor Street, London. 
Sir, 

After the first emotions of grief are subsided for 
the loss of a friend, who was the chosen favourite of 
my heart, I sit down, in the bope of finding some 
alleviation of my sorrow, by making a request, which 
was the immediate dictate of my mind on hearing of 
the loss which I had sustained. You, Sir, I under- 
stand, are nominated guardian to the two little help- 
less beings whom my beloved Julia has left behind 
her. To you, therefore, I apply for permission to 
take her youngest darling, the inheritress of her mo- 
ther's beauty and virtues, to my now (a second 
time) widowed heart, and teach her to fill the aching 
void that death has left there. O Captain Darn- 
ley ! wealth I despise, and could have parted with 
all 1 possess without a sigh, excepting as it deprived 
me of the power of making others happy ; but to 
be torn from those we fondly love, is to drink deep- 
ly indeed of the bitter cup of affliction. With 
what delight shall I clasp the little angel to my bo- 
som ! she engaged my affections the first moment I 
saw her. I traced in her speaking countenance the 
lines of those virtues which my heart always adopts 
with kindred warmth. Nothing engages the affections 
like a similarity of feeling ; and I will venture to say, 
that she could fall into the care of few, where the 
charming sensibility of her soul would meet with 
fonder encouragement. 1 will teach her to feel for 



19 

a 



the miseries of others, and then she will have 
right to look for sympathy and commiseration in 
return. 

I shall wait, my dear Sir, most anxiously for your 
answer ; and, in the hope of its being in unison with 
my wishes, 

I remain, with g r eat respect, 

Your obedient servant, 

ANN STANLEY. 



CHAPTER II. 

CAPTAIN DARNLEY and his little companion 
were received with the strongest expressions of kind- 
ness by Lady Ann. Her ladyship, though already 
dressed, and just on the point of setting out to a 
large dinner-party, refused to fulfill her engage- 
ment, though she could not prevail upon the Captain 
to do more than take a hasty lunch with her, be- 
fore he proceeded on his journey. Delighted to 
find that the beauty of her little favourite had in- 
creased considerably since she last saw her, she la- 
vished her kindness with redoubled ardour. What a 
perfect angel she is grown ! (exclaimed her ladyship, 
clasping her arms about the delighted Julia, who was 
too much accustomed to such expressions of admira- 
tion to be disconcerted with the extravagance of it; ) 
what life and animation there is in those eyes ! what 
a countenance beaming with sensibility! It shall be 
my study, Captain Darnley, to prevent her open and 
ingenuous spirit from being repressed by severe re- 
strictions, or the cold, chilling precept of worldly 
prudence. Nature has given her a feeling and li- 



8* 

beral soul, and she shall enjoy its delights, whilst she 
is a stranger to the chills of disappointment and mis- 
fortune. 

Your ladyship would agree much better with me 
about the management of children than my brothel* 
and sister Mackenzie did (said the Captain) ; for 
they seem to expect children of eight or ten to have 
the prudence and judgement of three-score. 

Oh, a prudent child is my aversion (exclaimed 
Lady Ann). If possessed of so much coldness and 
self-command at that age, what will they be when, 
repeated experience of the disappointments of the 
world, which naturally damp the most ardent mind, 
shall have extinguished the small spark of feeling 
that they ever possessed ? 

There is nothing I admire so much as an open, ge- 
nerous temper (returned the Captain) ; and 1 hope, 
by encouraging a spirit of generosity in this child, 
we are doing her no unkindness ; for it can only be 
a misfortune when the power is not joined to the 
will to give. But of that, I hope, there is little dan- 
ger ; for, both you and I, Lady Ann, are provided 
with ample fortunes, without having any much nearer 
claims upon us. 

My means are at present very ample, certainly ( re- 
plied her ladyship), and it shall be my care to make 
the most of them for my dear little protegee. But 
Sir Thomas Stanley, who, though one of the best of 
husbands, had a mind more circumscribed by pru- 
dence (I mean that low worldly sort of prudence, 
which sets a higher value on money than it deserves,) 
was so afraid of my extravagance, as he sometimes 
unjustly styled it, that he thought proper only to 
leave me an annuity ; and though it is a liberal one, 
of 5)0001. a year, I still feel a deficiency in not hav- 



21 

ing any thing at my own disposal, to leave to thi* 
dear creature. I will, however, take the expense of 
her education and support, as long as she remain* 
with rne, and you will, I am sure, make a provision 
for her afterwards. 

That you may depend upon (answered the Cap- 
tain) ; she and her sister shall share equally with my 
sister's children in what I have to leave, which will 
at any time be sufficient to secure to them a reason- 
able portion of affluence. 

The Captain now thought it time to proceed on 
his journey, and therefore rose to depart. He was 
surprised to find, by his regret at parting with Julia, 
how much she had gained on his affections, whilst 
the little girl, on her part, testified the most lively 
concern at taking leave of him. She clasped her 
little arms about his knees, and entreated that he 
would not be long in coming back, and taking her to 
live with her sister and him ; and even Lady Ann's 
flattering caresses failed, for some time after his de- 
parture, to dissipate her tears. At length, however, 
they were dried, and she was amused by being shown 
the apartment which was to be appropriated to her 
use, and hearing an attendant told, that her time was 
to be entirely devoted to her young mistress, whose 
spirit she was strictly forbidden to damp by con- 
tradiction or restrictions. Her ladyship's first care 
was to set about inquiries for a proper governess for 
her little ward, and it was not long before she suc- 
ceeded in a manner that surpassed her most sanguine 
expectations. Miss Courtley was a woman of most 
elegant manners, and a proficient in all the polite 
accomplishments, in which Lady Ann was particu- 
larly anxious to see her little charge excel ; whilst 
her ready acquiescence in all her ladyship's opinions 



relieved her from any fears of being thwarted in her 
views with respect to the other parts of her educa- 
tion. In less than two months, therefore, after Julia's 
arrival, Miss Courtley was regularly installed in her 
office of governess, and Lady Ann relieved from all 
her self-imposed restrictions of being domestic, that 
she might look after the child herself; which she had 
so far adhered to, as to have remained three days 
at home in that time with only a very small party of 
friends. 

Your ladyship is liberal beyond all bounds (said 
a favourite companion, on hearing Lady Ann re- 
late, as she sat at the head of a large dinner-table, 
surrounded by admiring guests, that Miss Courtley 
was indeed fixed upon for Julia's governess for 
which she was to receive a hundred a-year); very 
few people would have thought of engaging so ex- 
pensive a person : but you always do twice as much 
as any one else. 

Oh, as to the expense, it is never a matter of consi- 
deration with me, even in cases of less moment. 
But, as you know it is my determination to give the 
sweet child every advantage that education can pro- 
cure, you cannot, I am sure, suppose I could hesitate 
a moment, whether I should give eighty or a hundred 
pounds for a proper instructress. 

We cannot suppose any thing of Lady Ann that is 
not generous and amiable (said Colonel St. John, 
looking at her ladyship with a languishing air) ; and 
we have only to wish that the little girl may prove 
a good copy of the charming example before her. 

I am a poor weak child of feeling (replied Lady 
Ann, looking down and blushing, or at least endea- 
vouring to blush) ; I act all from impulse, and what 
would be merit in others is in me nature only. 



How charming, then, must be that nature which 
consists of all we admire and love! (added the 
Colonel with increasing tenderness.) Her ladyship 
was prevented disclaiming her right to the compli- 
ment by the entrance of the little girl, who was hand- 
ed by Miss Courtley into the room, as the dessert 
was served up. Immediately all attention was 
directed towards Julia, for each looked upon her as 
a convenient channel through which they might la- 
vish their adulation upon their charming hostess, 
who was too handsome, too fashionable, and too rich, 
not to be an object of universal devotion. " Will you 
come to me?" '* Will you have some of these fine 
grapes?" " Will you kiss me, and you shall have 
this beautiful peach?" was echoed round the table. 
At length, Colonel St. John's proved the successful 
bait, and Julia allowed him to jump her on his knee, 
to share some pine-apple with him. Accustomed 
to appearing in large companies, and to be ad- 
mired and caressed by every one, Julia received 
admiration as a tribute of right. But, though she 
looked for it, and universally obtained it, her dis. 
position was naturally so gentle and obliging, that, 
instead of taking advantage of the indulgence witl\ 
which she was treated, and being ill-natured, she 
discovered no other wish than to lay herself out to 
please, that she might gain a still more copious liba- 
tion of praise. Were you not very sorry to part 
with your sister? (asked the Colonel as Julia sat 
chatting on his knee with great sprightliness.) Oh 
yes ! very sorry indeed (answered Julia) ; and I often 
wish she were here, for I dare say she is not half so 
happy as I am, nor has half so many nice things. 
But I am going to send her a doll some day, the same 



2* 

as one Lady Ann bought me yesterday. And 
how are you to procure the doll ? (asked the Co- 
lonel.) 

I shall buy it, replied Julia, as soon as I get 
as much money; and I dare say that will be very 
soon, for it will cost only two guineas. 

But, if you had only two guineas, would you 
spend them all upon your sister? 

Oh yes ! I would spend them all upon her, for I 
like to be generous ; and, when I am generous, I 
always get a great deal more to make up for it. 

Then here are two guineas, (said the Colonel, 
slipping them into her hand as he spoke,) that you 
may have the pleasure of buying your sister her doll 
immediately. Julia took the money, and repaid the 
Colonel for his liberality by staying to talk to him, 
in spite of all the solicitations which she received 
from all other quarters to divide her favours more 
generally. 

If you prove as successful with the widow as you 
are with the protegee, Colonel, (whispered a gentle- 
man who sat near him,) your fortune is made at 
once. 

It is better to lay siege to a beautiful and rich 
widow than to a fortified town ; for the spoils are 
likely to prove great, whilst I apprehend there is 
little danger of the wounds proving mortal, even in 
case of a defeat. 

At length the ladles withdrew, when Julia, elevated 
by the praises she had received from the Colonel 
and still more so by the wine she had sipped from 
his glass, became so noisy and riotous, that her 
maid was summoned, and Julia was ordered to her 
own room. This change she did not at all admire ; 



25 

for the nursery, with only Margaret for a companion, 
was but a poor substitute for the gay and admiring 
throng in which she had been mingling, and even 
her generally happy temper was excited to peevish- 
ness. 

You must go to bed, Miss Julia, said Margaret; 
(for the maid, like her superiors, wished to relieve 
herself from any further trouble, by packing her 
little charge off to bed an hour earlier than her usual 
time, that she might herself be at liberty to go and 
pay a visit, for which she was already dressed ;) you 
must go to bed, for I assure you it is quite time. 

I do not choose to go to bed yet; for neither 
Lady Ann nor Miss Courtley said I was to do so: 
I am sure it is too soon (said Julia in a peevish 
tone, impatient at being obliged to go to bed at the 
moment when she felt in humour for enjoying her- 
self, merely to suit her maid's convenience). I know 
(continued she) what it is that makes you in such a 
hurry to put me to bed: you are impatient to go 
and show your smart new gown ; but I will disap- 
point you ; and, as she spoke, she took up a bottle 
of oil with which her maid had been perfuming her 
hair, and emptied a great, part of its contents upon 
Margaret's lap. O Miss Julia! you have spoiled 
my new gown, that I never had on before (exclaimed 
Margaret in a tone of great distress). Julia's ill- 
humour was immediately subdued with the sight of 
the mischief she had done. I am sorry I have spoiled 
your gown (said she), but it is no great matter, 
for I can buy you another, and a handsomer one, 
to-morrow, for, look, I have plenty of money; 
and, as she spoke, she showed the two guineas which 
the Colonel had given her, without recollecting that 



36 

it was not, in fact, her own, as it had been given her 
expressly for the purpose of buying a doll for her 
sister. Satisfied with this promise, Margaret's grief 
subsided ; and ? Julia's rebellious humour being sub- 
dued, she went quietly to bed, contenting herself 
with the thought that she had made amends for her 
ill temper by her promises of restitution ; for, accus- 
tomed to act from the impulse of the moment, she 
had no idea of considering whether she had a right 
to apply the money to any other purpose than that 
for which it was intended, or that it was her sister 
who was to be the sufferer by her transgression. 

The following morning, as Miss Courtley and she 
were taking their usual walk, they were met by a 
boy, who was carrying a cage with a number of 
young birds in it, which he had just taken from their 
nests. Julia was struck with the unhappy chirping 
of the poor little prisoners, and ran immediately to 
the boy, and offered to buy them. No, (said the 
boy,) I will not sell them, for they are rare birds, and 
1 expect to make a great deal of money by them. 

How much? (asked Julia.) Half-a-guinea! (an- 
swered the boy.) 

Oh ! I will give you that much for them (replied 
Julia) : if you will call at Lady Ann Stanley's at 
one o'clock, you shall have half-a-guinea for them at 
once. The boy of course readily agreed to do as he 
was desired, and Julia rejoined Miss Courtley, highly 
satisfied with her bargain. Margaret must just wait 
a little for her gown (said she to her governess, to 
whom she had before made known her intention of 
making amends to her maid for the injury she had 
done her) . I dare say it will not be very long before 
I get some more money to make up for the half-gui- 



27 

nea I have spent, and you know it would have been 
very cruel to keep these poor birds from their mo- 
thers for the sake of half-a-guinea. Miss Courtley 
was too much engaged in contemplating her own 
appearance, to pay proper attention to what her 
pupil was talking about, or else she would, perhaps, 
have endeavoured to convince Julia that she had 
been too hasty in making the bargain with the boy ; 
for, since it was now impossible to restore the birds 
to their mothers, it would be a greater kindness to 
the little sufferers to let him keep them till they were 
able to fly, and then buy them for the sake of set- 
ting them at liberty. But Miss Courtley contented 
herself with telling Julia that Lady Ann would bo 
delighted with her humanity. 

Elated with the idea of the praise she should re- 
ceive, Julia was fully disposed to proceed in the man- 
ner she had begun, as soon as another opportunity 
presented itself. It was not long before she met 
with one : a poor blind beggar soon after accosted 
them, who was led by a little girl not much bigger 
than herself. Oh! look, Miss Courtley, (said she,) 
at that poor little half-starved girl leading her blind 
father ! How sickly she looks ! What can we do 
for them ? 

Indeed I do not know, my dear (answered her 
governess), for I have no purse with me. 

And my money is at home (said Julia in a tone 
of great distress). 

We will call at your house, young lady, (said the 
man,) if you will tell us where it is, and thankful 
indeed I shall be for any little matter your ladyship 
may be pleased to give me ; for I have five more 
children at home, and my wife is very ill : but that 



28 

is not all, for our furniture was all seized upon to- 
day for a debt I have been long owing, and, if it is 
sold off, there will be nothing for us but to be turned 
out of doors, for the landlord will then have no se- 
curity for his rent. 

How much is your debt? (asked Julia.) 

Twenty shillings, my little lady (answered the 
man). A great deal more than 1 have any chance 
of ever possessing. No, but it is not (replied Julia 
with a glow of benevolent animation, which would 
have done credit to an older bosom } ; I have that 
much at home ; and, if you will call at Lady Ann 
Stanley's in the afternoon, I will give it to you. 

What time must I call, my lady? (asked the man.) 
Whenever you choose after I get home : you may 
come about one o'clock (answered Julia). 

The man went away, declaring that he believed 
she was an angel sent from heaven to save his wife 
and little ones from starving. 

Happy in the thought of the relief she should 
have it in her power to give the poor family, Julia 
forgot that the money she had promised had already 
been more than once disposed of, and returned 
home with a benevolent satisfaction, which only 
needed the guiding hand of prudence to regulate 
and improve. 

As soon as she entered the house, she was told 
that Lady Ann had given orders that she should be 
sent to her on returning from her walk. Eager to 
obey the summons, that she might relate to her 
ladyship the occurrences of the morning, she flew to 
her own room, that Margaret might arrange her 
dress in proper order for appearing before company. 
Her maid met her with a smile. Well, Miss Julia, 



(said she,) I have been telling every body that I 
have seen this morning what a generous young lady 
you are, not like some that I know, who never care 
how they use their servants. But just because you 
got into a passion, which was only what you had 
a right to do, for Lady Ann gave you leave to do 
whatever you chose, you were going to buy me a 
handsome new gown, for, a handsome one I was 
sure it wouid be, if it was bought with the money 
that you showed me last night : I dare say you have 
been out buying it this morning: when will the 
shop-keeper send it home, think you, Miss Julia ? 
1 hope it will come soon, for I long to see it. 

Julia, whose every wish was to oblige, much con- 
cerned at the disappointment which she was sure 
Margaret must experience at hearing that the gown 
was not yet bought, said, in a gentle tone, " Your 
gown is not bought yet, Margaret : but you shall 
have it very soon, for I know I had no right to be- 
have as I did last night." Margaret's countenance 
fell immediately : she knew, if there was time for 
other temptations to come in the way, she had but 
a poor chance for her prize, and had placed all her 
hopes of success on the promptness of the action. 

You need not look so. grave, Margaret, (remon- 
strated Julia,) you shall have the gown, but only 
you must wait a little, for I could not help promis- 
ing the money, that I meant to buy it with, to a poor 
blind man. 

A poor blind man (exclaimed Margaret) ! what 
in the world does he need so much money for? 

Oh, it is to save himself, his wife, and six little 
children, from starving (replied Julia). 

1 warrant he is a cheat (said Margaret) ; I will 
be bound for it he has told you a parcel of lies, and 
D 3* 



30 

he will nqjt have the face to come to ask for the mo- 
ney, for fear he should he found out and punished. 

Do you think so (said Julia) ? If I thought that 
was the case, I would give you the money for your 
gown immediately, and you know you could buy it 
yourself, and then you would be sure to get one that 
you liked. As she spoke, she went to the drawer 
where the money was deposited, and, unaccustomed 
for a moment to weigh her action?, had it in her 
hand for the purpose of giving it to her maid, when 
a servant came into the room to say that Lady Ann 
had inquired again for her, and desired her to come 
directly to her dressing-room, as Colonel St. John 
wished to see her before he went away. She flew 
off therefore like lightning, with the money in her 
hand, and was soon on the Colonel's knee, listening 
to his exclamations of admiration, and receiving his 
lavish caresses. It was not long before a servant 
came to say that a boy, whom Miss Frankland had 
desired to call at one o'clock, was come. Julia 
jumped off the Colonel's knee " May I go to him, 
Lady Ann?" (asked she.) 

Go to a poor boy, my love, what to do? (asked 
her ladyship.) Julia then told the story of redeem- 
ing the little unfledged birds for half-a-guinea. 

But where did you expect to get the money ? (in- 
quired Lady Ann.) 

Oh, 1 have plenty of money, (answered Julia,) 
holding out the so-of ten-condemned tuo guineas. 

And where did you get all that? 

Colonel St. John gave it to me yesterday to buy a 
doll for Isabella; but you know I need not buy it 
directly, and I will save up my money as fast as I 
can, to get the half-guinea back again. Will not you 
give me leave to do that. Colonel St. John? (added 



31 

she, looking at him with a most engaging look of 
sweetness. ) 

Yes, that I will, (cried the Colonel,) for that and 
every thing you do is delightful. 

Dear little benevolent soul (exclaimed Lady Ann), 
every action is the result of feeling and tenderness. 

Brim-full of pleasure at this unqualified praise, 
Julia ran oft* to perform her engagement with the 
bird-dealer. Not finding him at the street-door a* 
she expected, she was about to seek him in the ser- 
vants' hall, when the tone of an organ struck her 
ears, and, turning again towards the door, she per- 
ceived a Jew standing on the step, with a most elegant 
little organ in his hand, on which he was playing. 
Delighted both with the tone and appearance of the 
instrument, she ran back to lopk at it more closely. 
Dear, what a beautiful little organ! (cried she, as 
t'ne man held it in such a position as to display it to 
advantage ; ) I never saw any thing so pretty in my 
life; and it is so small, that it would not be too 
heavy for me to carry about. Oh, no ! it is made 
on purpose for young peoples (said the man), and is 
very sheep organ if you 'cants one. 

Do you wish to sell it ? (asked Julia.) You surely 
would not sell such a pretty little thing as it is ! 

Oh, I does not risk to sell it (returned the Jew) ; 
but I 'cants some "tnonish, for 1 am very poor, very 
poor inteed. 

What is the price of it? (asked Julia, her eyes 
still fixed upon the splendid toy.) It is very beau, 
tifur, I should like very much to have it, and then 
I could please every body so with the music : and, 
when I have a party, it would be so delightful to 
dance to it, (added she as the man struck up a 
lively dancing tune, and she felt its enlivening influ- 



32 

ence through her whole frame.) What is the price 
of it ? (again asked she.) 

It is only four guineas (answered the owner, again 
changing the stops, and striking up another tune) 
1 voud not part with it for dat, but only I am vant- 
ing the monish so much. 

But I have not four guineas (said Julia) ; I have 
only these two ; and, as she spoke, she disf'syed her 
treasure. 

Oh, I Till take dem two, and you can pay me de 
odcrs ven you gets dem (said the Jew) ; and* he held 
out his hand, whilst Julia, the child of impulse, 
immediately put the money into it ; and, receiving 
the instrument, she was flying immediately to display 
her treasure, when the first objects she beheld, were 
the poor blind man coming along the lobby, through 
which a servant was conducting him to the servants' 
hall to wait for her, and the boy holding a cage full 
of birds, standing at a little distance from her. 
Thunderstruck at the sight, she immediately turned 
to tell the Jew that she repented of her bargain; but 
the man, conscious that it would not do for her to 
have time to examine her purchase more narrowly, 
was already out of sight. Her eyes then turned 
upon the organ, when she found that he had put a 
different instrument into her hand from that which 
she had admired in his. Motionless with confusion, 
shame, and disappointment, Julia was standing with 
her eyes fixed upon the paltry toy that she held in 
her Imnd, whilst the poor blind man, who had learned 
that the good young lady was near, stood in an atti- 
tude of patient expectation ; and the boy, with bow- 
ing civility, held out the cage, expecting her to take 
it, and give him his promised money, when Lady 
Ann, attended by the Colonel, appeared on the staira. 



S3 

" Bless me! what is all this (cried her ladyship) ? 
Julia, my love, why do you look so much the pic- 
ture of despair? And what company is this by 
which you are surrounded ?" 

Julia, unaccustomed to reproof or disapprobation, 
had little difficulty in collecting her scattered senses, 
and relating the whole tale, which she did with per- 
fect simplicity and frankness, whilst her feelings were 
at the same time sufficiently mortified at the embar- 
rassments into which she had so foolishly plunged 
herself, to have received, had the opportunity been 
properly improved, a lesson which might have been 
serviceable to her through life; but she, unfortu- 
nately, was not in hands calculated to turn to advan- 
tage the favourable moment. " What a dear little ex- 
travagant wretch this is! (exclaimed Lady Ann, 
turning to Colonel St. John, as Julia finished her 
tale :) she disposes of money like a princess. It 
would be a thousand pities if she ever felt the want 
of it. She must not suffer from this little impru- 
dence: it would be enough to lock up her generous 
heart for life, if she did. I must pay her debts for 
her, and leave it to time to teach her more prudence 
in contracting them." So saying, her ladyship took 
out her purse, and, with infinite grace, gave the 
poor man his promised donation, and then discharged 
her debt to the bird-catcher ; whilst the poor little 
birds were turned over to the servants, to suffer that 
misery from which it had been Julia's first impulse 
to rescue them. 

Margaret's gown and Isabella's doll should be 
bought, her ladyship said, the next day. But the 
Colonel (though inwardly determining that, if he 
were once master of her ladyship's liberal income, it 
should not be so squandered away,) admired her 1U 



berality, and bestowed all his compliments at that 
time. The next day therefore, as no further praises 
were to be gained, the promises were forgotten ; and 
Julia, not more thoughtful than her ladyship, soon 
forgot the whole matter, or at least only remember- 
ed it when Margaret gave a hint about her gown, 
when she promised again, and then forgot as usual. 
And here we shall leave Julia for the present, and 
follow our little northern traveller on her journey to 
Edinburgh. 



CHAPTER III. 

THE little Isabella was received with great kind- 
ness by the whole family of Mackenzies, who each 
strove, to the utmost of their power, to show her 
every mark of hospitality and attention. It was re- 
ceived, however, with perfect indifference by the 
little stranger, who scarcely seemed to notice what 
was passing, but amused herself with eating sweet- 
meats, of which the gentleman, with whom she had 
travelled, had supplied her with a great quantity. 
Mrs. Mackenzie, fearful that the child would do 
herself an injury by loading her stomach with so 
many rich cakes, yet unwilling so soon to thwart 
her inclinations, hastened her to bed, on the plea of 
her being fatigued. When refreshed with a good 
night's sleep, she was in hopes that the little 
stranger would feel herself more at home, and 
better disposed to be amused by other things, 
which might divert her from the pleasure of eating, 
the only one for which she seemed at present to 
have any relish. Isabella made no objection to the 



m 

proposal, but took good eare to have her basket of 
sweetmeats along with her, which she placed close 
by her bed side. " Will they be fafe here? (asked she 
of the servant, who was undressing her ;) is there no 
fear of any one coming and taking them away ?" 

Oh, quite safe, you may depend upon it ( replied 
Ann ) : they are yours, and nobody will think ot 
touching them. 

But those little boys that I saw in the drawing* 
room like sweetmeats, I daresay (replied Isabella,. 

I have no doubt they do ; but if they liked them 
ever so well, they would never think of touching 
what is not their own, or what is not given to them. 
Besides, nobody comes into this room but myself, 
and little master Henry, who is in the other bed 
there, and my mistress, who always looks at all the 
children the last thing she does before she goes to 
bed herself. Satisfied with this assurance, Isabella 
laid herself down very contentedly in bed, and was 
soon fast asleep. 

What a pretty little girl she is, mamma ! (said 
Frederick, when Isabella left the room.) What beau- 
tiful eyes she has ! 

But she very seldom raises them to let them be 
seen (said Douglas). She seems to cast them within 
as much as possible, that she may contemplate her 
own dear little person, which she appears to think 
the only object worth noticing. 

I think, however, for all that, (returned Frederick,) 
that she has a very pleasant countenance ; and I have 
no doubt, that, under my mamma's management, she 
will soon be a very nice little girl. I dare say she ha? 
never had any pains taken with her. Julia was the 
favourite, and this poor little thing has never known 
what it was to. be noticed. I 



56 

I hope you will prove right in your conjectures, 
my dear, (said his mother,) much pleased with her 
aon's charitable conclusions. We must endeavour to 
find the way to her heart, and then I shall not de- 
spair of making something of her, for she does not 
look as though she wanted abilities. 

Oh, no, mamma ! that she does not (said Frede- 
rick with animation) ; she only needs to be drawn 
out, just like the convolvuluses in my garden. When 
the sun does not shine upon them, they are all curled 
in so close, that one could have no idea what pretty 
flowers they are ; but, as soon as they feel the warmth 
of his beams, they unfold their leaves, and display 
their beautiful colours. 

Let us take care, then, my dear boy, (replied Mrs. 
Mackenzie, delighted with the generous warmth with 
which her son spoke,) to shed the rays of kindness 
on this little helpless orphan. 

The next morning, as soou as Isabella appeared in 
the breakfast-room, Douglas, who had felt the night 
before that he had been less charitable to the little 
stranger than he ought to have been, was most sedu- 
lous in his attentions towards her. He ran to bring 
a chair for her to the breakfast-table ; handed her the 
nicest- looking bun that he could see ; and set her lit- 
tle basket, which she watched with jealous care, 
close by her side. Isabella took little notice of his 
attentions, except now and then turning her full in- 
quiring eyes upon him, as if to convince herself that 
he was not preparing to play some cheat upon her ; 
but, when satisfied that such was not the case, she 
spoke her " thank you" with more cordiality than 
she had expressed since she entered the house. 

Her stomach was too much cloyed with the quan- 
tity ofjjweets that she had eaten the night before^ to 



37 

relish her breakfast, and this Mrs. Mackenzie took 
care to remark; when she declined eating any 
more, and said she was not hungry. She had 
good sense enough to take the hint ; and instead of 
returning again to the sweetmeats after breakfast, 
she only stood turning them over, and counting how- 
many she had. 1 wish I had a safe place for this 
basket (said she, as Frederick and Douglas invited 
her to go with them into the garden). 

It will be quite safe on this table (said Douglas). 

No ! but I do not like to leave it there (answered 
Isabella). 

I will ask mamma to lock it up for you (said Fre- 
derick) ; and away he ran to seek his mother, whom 
he soon brought back with him. 

But you will give it me again ? (said Isabella in a 
tone of hesitation, still keeping back the basket, for 
which Mrs. Mackenzie held out her hand). You 
will not cheat me of it, and give it to any body else ? 

No, my dear little girl, (answered Mrs. Macken- 
zie,) you may depend upon it I will not cheat you 
of it. What makes you think of such a thing ? 

Because they used to do so at home (replied the 
child); they used to give my things to Julia, be- 
cause, they said, she was generous, and deserved 
them better, for she would give any thing away that 
she had. But then she got a great deal more given 
to her than I did. 

Shocked at the partiality and want of management 
which had been shown in the treatment of these two 
little girls, Mrs. Mackenzie renewed her resolutions 
to do her utmost to erase the effects of her improper 
education, as fast as possible, from the mind of this 
young creature, whom she looked upon as an object 
of compassion, as much from the injury she had suf- 



38 

fered whilst under her mother's care, as from the 
unprotected state in which the death of that parent 
had left her. The gentleness of Mrs. Mackenzie's 
manner could not but gain confidence even from Isa- 
bella's suspicious mind, and she ventured to deposit 
her basket in her hands, after receiving a positive 
promise that it should be returned whenever she 
should wish for it ; and this done, she accompanied 
the two boys into the garden. Having lived con- 
stantly in the town, and in that town having been 
almost entirely confined to the nursery, Isabella had 
little idea of plants or flowers ; so that, when the 
boys showed her their gardens, and asked her if she 
should like to have one for her own, which she could 
work in, and do what she liked with, she replied, she 
should like very much to have one, but she did not 
understand what to do with it. I will dig it for you 
(said Frederick), and tell you, as well as I can, how 
to manage it. And I (said Douglas) will give you 
some seeds to sow in it ; and I am sure my mamma 
will let you have some flowers out of her garden to 
plant in it. 

But one cannot eat either seeds or flowers (an- 
swered Isabella), and I do not care for a garden, un- 
less it has something in it that one can eat. 

But (said Frederick) if mamma will give you a 
piece of ground which joins the end of this straw- 
berry- bed, you will soon have something in your gar- 
den that is good to eat. 

This interested Isabella's strongest passion, for 
the love of eating was her most powerful propensity; 
and she immediately expressed great delight at the 
idea of having a garden that she could call her own, 
and out of which she might eat all the fruit as it ri- 
pened, without any one having a right to interfere 



39 

with her. Application was therefore made to Mrs. 
Mackenzie for the piece of ground fixed upon 
by Frederick ; and being granted, in a very short 
time Isabella saw herself in possession of a garden, 
nicely dug, and filled with various plants and seeds, 
and, above all, a neat little strawberry-bed, the plants 
of which were just beginning to put forward their 
blossoms. Frederick told her that she must water 
her plants every evening for some time, if the wea- 
ther continued dry, till their roots were struck into 
the earth ; and Douglas offered her the use of his lit- 
tle watering-pot for that purpose. The time was so 
fully employed, that it was long before Isabella re- 
membered the basket of sweetmeats ; when she did, 
however, she hastened into the house, and, going up 
to Mrs. Mackenzie, said, in a tone which bespoke 
the revival of her doubts, " You know you promised 
that you would give me my basket of sweetmeats as 
soon as ever I asked for it." 

I did so (replied her aunt, going immediately to 
the closet where she had locked up the basket, and 
giving it to her) ; butl would advise you not to eat so 
many of them atonetirne, asyou did yesterday, for fear 
of hurting yourself again. The caution did not prove 
so effectual this time as it had done in the morning, 
when aided by the unpleasant feeling of an overload- 
ed stomach ; and she began to eat the contents of 
the basket with great eagerness, without offering 
Frederick or Douglas the smallest morsel in return 
for their kindness, or appearing conscious of the en- 
gaging tricks of the little Henry, who, too young to 
have any objection to begging, played off a hundred 
little antics by way of tempting her to make him a 
sharer in her enjoyment. I wish Henry might be 
taken out of the room, mamma (said Douglas, sorry 
E 2 



40 

for the little boy's solicitude, and what he knew would 
be his disappointment). 

No, my dear, (answered his mother,) it is better 
that he should learn to see people in the possession 
of things that he likes, without always expecting to 
be made a partaker in them. 

Convinced that no lesson would do for Isabella but 
the dear-bought one of experience, Mrs. Mackenzie 
left her to take her own course ; and it was not long 
before she had devoured her whole store, nor much 
longer before she began to feel the consequences of 
her gluttony ; for she soon became so sick as to make 
it necessary for her to drink a great quantity of ca- 
momile tea, which Mrs. Mackenzie was not sorry to 
find she did with great reluctance and disgust. The 
lesson, however, was a useful one ; and, as it was 
the first time she had ever been her own mistress 
over so many good things, it was also the last of her 
using her liberty with so little discretion. 

I wish you had told me, aunt, (said she the next 
morning, as she sat by Mrs. Mackenzie,) that the 
sweetmeats would have made me so sick, and then I 
would not have eaten so many of them at once. 

If you will recollect yourself, my dear, (answered 
her aunt,) you will remember that I did tell you so, 
and advised you, as earnestly as I could, not to eat 
them all at one time. 

Yes, I know you did say something of that kind, but 
I did not mind it then, for I thought you only said so 
because you wished me to give some of them away. 

When you know me better (said Mrs. Mackenzie, 
smiling at the bluntncss of the speech), I hope you 
will believe that I never think of advising you but for 
your own good. 

Oh, I believe that now (replied Isabella), for I 



41 

am sure you are very kind to me, and so is my uncle, 
and so are Frederick and Douglas, and I h'keyou all 
very much, for not one of you ever called me " a 
little greedy thing," or " glutton," when I had made 
myself ill with eating. So I xvill never eat too much 
of any thing again, when you advise me not. 

The convolvuluses are beginning to unfold, Frede- 
rick (said Douglas to his brother, as they heard, 
from the other end of the room, where they were 
with their father at their lessons, what passed be- 
tween their mother and her little companion). 

I had no doubt but they would (replied his bro- 
ther), for I was sure, if she had a heart, my mamma 
would find her way to it. 

And so was I (returned Douglas) ; my only fear 
was, that nature had made a mistake, and given her 
nothing but a stomach, and then, you know, not 
even my mamma could have done any good. 

Douglas (said Mr. Mackenzie), I wish you would 
check that turn for satirewhich you so often discover. 
It is a dangerous weapon, which may often make you 
enemies, but will never gain you a friend. I am 
very happy, however, to see you both so sensible 
of your excellent mother's worth. Your confidence 
in her power over this little girl, is a most satis- 
factory proof of your having yourselves felt its in- 
fluence. 

A servant here entered the room, to say that Mr. 
Boule, the dancing- master, was come. Nothing 
could be more striking than the contrast which the 
two brothers exhibited on receiving this information. 
Douglas started up with all the glee imaginable, and 
capered about, whilst putting up his books, in antici- 
pation of the pleasure he was going to enjoy ; whilst 
Frederick, who in general was all alacrity in set- 
E 3 



ting about any tiling that he had to do, hung over 
the table, as if desirous of prolonging the time as 
much as possible before he was obliged to go to re- 
ceive his dancing-lesson. Come, Frederick (said his 
father), move more briskly : one would suppose, 
from your manner, that you were going to sleep in- 
stead of to dance. 

1 wish I might sleep whilst the others were dan- 
cing (answered Frederick), for I hate to dance. 

1 think the consciousness of your own folly would 
rather disturb your repose, however (returned Mr. 
Mackenzie). 

But, why is it folly not to like dancing, papa ? 
(answered Frederick): I am sure there is nothing 
very clever or sensible in it. 

Because it is a mark of folly, not to be willing to 
make use of every advantage that fortune has thrown 
in your way. Learning to dance will assist you in 
acquiring a graceful management of your person ; 
and, as I hope you will always have too much sense 
to indulge in it improperly, it may often be a source, 
of innocent amusement to you in after-life. 

I do not think it ever will ; for, if ever I am 3 
learned man, which I hope I shall be some time or 
other, I shall have a great many better ways of 
spending my time than practising airs and graces. 

The principal part of it I hope you will (answer- 
ed Mr. Mackenzie) ; but the airs and graces, as you 
call them, are very necessary, for the want of them 
is apt to bring learning into disrepute, by making 
the learned appear stiff and awkward. Besides, it is 
ot well for the" mind to be always on the stretch : 
there are times when it is absolutely necessary to 
unbend, and it is frequently very desirable to do 
to; for the mind, like the body, is btrengtheiunl 



43 

and refreshed by rest, and returns to its labours 
with greater vigour after a moderate degree of re- 
laxation. 

But there are many other kinds of relaxation that 
1 like a great deal better, and that are far less effe- 
minate than skipping about in set forms. There is 
walking, and gardening, and riding, and many other 
much plcasantcr ways of taking exercise. I began 
to read the Life of Sir William Jones last night, who, 
I have often heard you say, was one of the greatest 
characters you ever knew ; and he spent his time, 
whilst at school, almost entirely between his studies 
and his garden ; and I should like to do as much the 
same as ever I can. 

To that I can have no possible objection (replied 
his father) ; and will bargain with you, that, when 
you have finished reading his Life, if the desire to 
give over dancing still remains, I will indulge you, 
by allowing you to follow your own inclinations. For, 
though I think it very desirable that you should 
learn to dance, as well as to do every thing else 
that is ever likely to be of use, or an innocent source 
of pleasure, I do not consider it of such first-rate 
importance as to force you to it so much against 
your wishes. 

Highly pleased with this agreement, Frederick 
went to join his dancing-master with greater pleasure 
than he had ever done before. Their dance too was 
pleasanter, for the addition of Isabella to their 
party made it more lively ; but his principal plea- 
sure arose from the hope that it was the last lesson 
of the kind he should receive, as he was determined 
to be very industrious, and get through the whole 
of Sir William's Life before the next dancing les- 
son, when, he had no doubt, he should still be in 



44 

the same mind, and he was very sure his father 
would be as good as his word. The next morning, 
however, he met his father with a smile, which 
seemed to express the recollection of some joke that 
was passing in his mind ; and being asked by him to 
explain it, " I am smiling, papa, to think how 
nicely you took me in yesterday about dancing." 

Took you in ! (answered his father) : that is cer- 
tainly not a right word. I made no bargain with 
you that I am not still ready to stand to. 

Yes ; but then, papa, you knew all the time that 
Sir William Jones, even after he was a man, was at 
a great deal of expense and trouble to learn to 
dance. 

I did so (said Mr. Mackenzie) ; and was there- 
fore in hopes that you would have good sense enough 
to be convinced, that your time was of less import- 
ance, and it was much better to acquire the art whilst 
you were young than put it off till later in life, when 
it would be much more difficult to attain. You see, 
Sir William Jones, even after his fame was conside- 
rably spread as a scholar, did not think it beneath 
him to join in an innocent amusement, and make 
himself pleasant to his friends. His wish was to be 
a gentleman ; not, as the term is often understood, 
by becoming a vain, conceited coxcomb, but by 
making himself master of every useful and polite 
accomplishment. Much as I admire Sir William's 
great learning, and amazing attainments, I admire 
his amiable manners, his upright principles, and ex- 
cellent heart, much more. Keep these, therefore, 
strictly in view, my dear boy, in studying his cha- 
racter, and I have only to wish that you may make 
a close copy. 

I ought to do more (replied Frederick) ; for, 



45 

though he had so good a mother, I am better off 
KtiJI, for I have both my parents. 

But there is another consideration, which may, 
perhaps, do more than equalize your situations ; that 
is, the extraordinary talents which he possessed from 
nature. You have very good abilities, and will have 
much to answer for at the great day of account, if 
you do not make a good use of them : but talents 
like his are rarely seen in youth. I am far, how- 
ever, from wishing to damp your ardour ; for, in 
the attainment of' virtue and knowledge, it is no 
matter how high vour ambition aspires. " Always 
aim at the eagle (was the advice of Dr. Johnson), 
though you may not be able to reach higher than 
the sparrow." 

The sound of a scuffling noise in the lobby now 
broke off the conversation; and Mr. Mackenzie, 
opening the door of the breakfast-room to see what 
was the matter, observed Isabella struggling very 
hard with Henry, who, though so much younger, 
was no bad match for her in strength. 

What is the matter ? (asked Mr. Mackenzie, going 
forward. ) 

He will have my slate (said Isabella) ; and he has 
no right to it. 

I want to make houses (said the little boy, still 
struggling to get the slate out of his cousin's hands, 
who, however, kept her hold most tenaciously). 

Henry will be papa's good little boy, I hope, and 
wait till his cousin Isabella gives him the slate, and 
not pull it from her (said Mr. Mackenzie in a gentle 
persuasive tone). 

Please, let Henry have it! (said the little boy, 
ceasing to use force, and speaking in a supplicating 
voice.) 



46 

He will not hurt it (added Mr. Mackenzie), and 
you will soon get it again. 

No ! but I do not like to let him have it (returned 
Isabella) : it is my slate, and I like to keep my own 
things. 

Mr. Mackenzie, finding that Isabella was not to 
be prevailed upon to lend her slate to the little peti- 
tioner, contrived to draw his attention to another 
object, and Isabella was left in undisputed posses- 
sion of her property. What a pity it is, that she is 
so selfish! (said Frederick, who had stood by, a silent 
spectator of what had passed) : she is a nice little 
girl, and I should like her very much, if she were 
not so selfish. 

Some weeks afterwards, as Isabella sat working 
beside her aunt, and talking about her garden, of 
which she had become exceedingly fond, particu- 
larly since the closely-watched strawberries had be- 
gun to swell, and change their dark green hue, 
seeming to promise her long-anticipated feast, 
How nice it will be (said she) to think that they 
are all my own, and that nobody will have any 
right to touch them but myself! and I know that 
nobody will take them from me, for it is not here 
as it used to be at home. Whenever I had any thing 
there that I liked, they used to watch for an op- 
portunity of getting it from me, to give it to Julia, 
and then they laughed at me when I was angry ; but 
here, although I do not watch my things half so 
much, I have never had any of them taken from me. 
But, aunt, (added she, dropping her work, and look- 
ing earnestly in Mrs. Mackenzie's face,) I wish I 
could learn not to he selfish ; for I heard Frederick 
say, the day that I refused to lend Henry my slate, 
that lie should like me very much if I were not so 



47 

selfish ; and I should like Frederick to love me, for 
I am sure I love him. Can you tell me, aunt, what 
I must do not to be selfish > 

If you will take your work up again (said Mrs. 
Mackenzie), I will endeavour to tell you as well as 
I can; bat if we are to have much conversation, 
and you sit idle all the time, you will not have 
finished your work by the time 1 am ready to go out 
to walk. 

But I cannot both work and talk (said Isabella). 

This is only a bad habit (answered her aunt). If 
you accustom yourself to do both at one time, it 
will soon become easy to you, and your work will 
go much more pleasantly forward. 

Well, I will try (said Isabella, again beginning lo 
sew) ; and now, if you please, will you tell me how 
I must learn not to be selfish ? 

By always trying to do v/hat you think will oblige, 
and accommodate those around you (answered Mrs. 
Mackenzie). 

But then, aunt, they sometimes want me to do 
things that I do not like myself; and then, you know, 
it is no wonder I refuse. 

But a kind, obliging little girl would have more 
pleasure, often, in giving up her own wishes to gra- 
tify a friend, than in indulging her inclinations. 

Then, ought I always to give whatever I have 
away, and never keep any thing to myself? 

No ! that would be extravagance. It would be 
foolish to give away what it would be an injury to 
yourself to part with. But, if you have an oppor- 
tunity of obliging a friend, or doing a charitable ac- 
tion, by giving what it only needs a little self-denial 
to yield, that I should call generosity. 

Then, if I give any thing away, will you promise 



48 

to make it up to me directly ? Suppose, instead of 
only lending my slate to Henry, the next time be 
asks for it, t were to give it him for his own, may I 
depend upon your giving me another immediately? 

I might as well give Henry the slate myself at 
once (said Mrs. Mackenzie, smiling), for you know 
it would, in fact, be I who gave it, not you. Be- 
sides, the loan of the slate would just do as well as 
the gift for him : it would be unnecessary for you to 
part with it altogether. 

But when Julia used to give any thing away, 
mamma always made it up to her again ; because, 
she said, she deserved to be rewarded for her gene- 
rosity. 

That is not the kind of reward, however, (said 
Mrs. Mackenzie,) that I should wish you to accus- 
tom yourself to look for. If you really wish to show 
your gratitude to your friends, and to imitate that 
kind of conduct which you yourself so much admire 
in them, you will find a sufficient reward in the satis- 
faction which you will feel at seeing the pleasure you 
have given, and in knowing that you have done what 
is right and kind. 

Then, suppose (said Isabella, again, in the ear- 
nestness of her discourse, dropping her work), sup- 
pose, aunt, in return for Douglas's kindness in help- 
ing me with my garden, that, instead of giving him 
the young shoot off my beautiful rose-tree, which, 
he told me, would not hurt the tree to take off at the 
latter end of the year, I were to pull up the whole 
tree, and give it to him, without any body promising 
me any thing in return : what would you think of me 
then ? 

I should think you a very foolish, extravagant 
little girl (answered her aunt) ; for you would deprive 



4-9 

yourself of the tree very unnecessarily, as the young 
shoot would satisfy Douglas just as well ; and would 
run a great risk of rendering the tree useless, in fu- 
ture, to both you and him ; for it would very likely 
kill it to be moved at present, when it is just coming 
into flower. Thus, you see, you would rob your- 
self, do Douglas no kindness, and put it out of 
your power to oblige another friend with a shoot at 
some other time. One of the best means of enabling 
us to be generous, is to avoid wasting what we have. 
But now, you see, I have finished my work, and you 
have been sitting so long idle that you are still far 
behind. 

Oh ! but I shall soon have done, if you will be so 
good as to wait a little for me, aunt. 

I will oblige you this time (answered Mrs. Mac- 
kenzie), because I see that you have made an effort 
to conquer a bad habit ; and I do not expect that 
you should suceed all at once. To show a willing- 
ness to oblige your friends, by attending to their 
wishes, is always the surest way of obtaining a simi- 
lar favour in return. 

Isabella's fingers now went with great speed, whilst 
her mind was busily employed in turning over the 
new ideas which she had gained. 



CHAPTER IV. 



NEGLECT and bad management were observable 
in almost every thing that Isabella did ; and Mrs. 
Mackenzie became every day more sensible of the 
care and attention which would be necessary to wean 
her from the improper habits she had contracted. 
She was exceedingly indolent and indifferent about 
learning : by way, therefore, of exciting her to 
greater industry, her kind aunt determined to adopt 
the plan of rewarding her with tickets whenever 
she deserved it, and of purchasing them of her again 
at so much a dozen. 

Mrs. Mackenzie was not at all fond of the plan of 
giving children money ; but, as Isabella had already 
been taught to wish for it, she deemed it most ad- 
visable to gratify her wishes in a moderate degree, 
and endeavour to put her into a way of spending it 
properly. For some time, however, Isabella's mo- 
ney went towards the gratification of her palate 
only ; and, though she had frequently, of late, pre- 
vailed upon herself to part with a small portion of 
what she bought to her cousins, her aunt was con- 
cerned to see her indulge so bad a propensity as 
greediness ; and watched for an opportunity of pre- 
vailing upon her to appropriate her money to a bet- 
ter purpose, by letting it accumulate, and purchas- 
ing something that would be a more lasting source 
of pleasure. 

At length, Isabella, who was very fond of amusing 



51 

herself in an evening with colouring prints, or her 
own rough designs, whilst Frederick and Douglas 
were engaged with their drawing, was disappointed 
(during the absence of her cousins from home) of 
the use of one of their paint-boxes ; and lamented 
bitterly the want of her favourite amusement. If 
you had one of your own (said Mrs. Mackenzie), 
you would not be subject to such disappointments, 

No, indeed, I should not (replied Isabella) : I 
wish, aunt, you would be so good as to buy me one. 

I would do so with pleasure, if you were not able 
to purchase one for yourself: but, when that is the 
case, I think it is unnecessary that I should do it for 
you. 

Oh ! I cannot buy one, you know ; I have not any 
money. 

But you may easily get enough for the purpose ; 
for, if you choose to be diligent and attentive, you 
can get a great many tickets ; and you have only to 
save your money, instead of buying rich things to 
eat, which are very bad for you. 

Well, then, I think I will try to keep my money ; 
for I should like very much to have a box of paints 
of my own, instead of having to borrow Frederick's 
and Douglas's, though they are so willing to lend 
them. 

I would advise you, then (said Mrs. Mackenzie), 
by way of helping your resolution, not to attempt to 
keep the money yourself, but let me take care of it 
for you. I will keep an account of every dozen tick- 
ets you give me, and pay you the money for them 
all at once, when you have got enough to buy your 
box. 

To this Isabella readily agreed, saying, she was 
not afraid now of being cheated, as she used to be. 



52 

She applied herself with so much diligence, and was 
so careful to keep her things in order, and in their 
right places, that it was not long before she found 
herself in possession of money sufficient for the de- 
sired purchase ; and had never felt herself so happy 
in her life, as the first evening that she sat down to 
make use of it. 

How nice it is (said she) to have a box of one's 
own, without having to wait till Frederick or Douglas 
come to lend me theirs ! and to think that, perhaps, 
they may not choose to lend it this evening ; though 
that never was the case ; yet I could not help think- 
ing that it might happen some time. 

It is, indeed, a pleasant thing to be independent 
(said Mrs. Mackenzie), however kind our friends 
may be in assisting us. 

1 wonder (said Isabella) if my sister Julia has a 
box of paints. I dare say she would like one ; do 
not you think she would, aunt ? 

Yes, I do, indeed ; and, if I were you, I should 
like to send her one on her birth-day, which, you 
know, will be very soon. 

And so should I too. Will you buy one for me to 
send to her ? 

But I have no more money of yours at present, 
you know. 

But you have plenty of your own. 

You must recollect, however, that, if I buy it 
with my own money, it will be my present. But, if 
you were to save your money again, as you did for 
this, and buy her one with it, the gift would then be 
all your own. 

Oh ! I think, if I were to do thaf (exclaimed Isa- 
bella artlessly), I should be very generous indeed! 
Would you not all admire me very much ? 



53 

Perhaps (replied Mrs. Mackenzie, smiling), the 
more you expected and required our admiration, the 
less we should be inclined to give it. 

Nay, that would be ill-natured, that would be 
quite cross ! (remonstrated Isabella.) 

If your object is to show your sister kindness and 
attention, it will be a sufficient reward to you to 
know that you have done what is right and amiable, 
and that you deserve to be loved and esteemed. 

Do you think I can ever be good and amiable ? 
(asked Isabella with great simplicity.) 

Certainly I do ; any body may be good who 
chooses. 

But, mamma used to say, nothing would ever 
make me amiable or pleasant, because I was selfish; 
and that nobody would ever love me. 

Your mamma was, I hope, mistaken. You have 
only to be determined to be good, and it is quite in 
your own power ; and then all good people will love 
you. 

Will they ? (cried the little girl, animation beam- 
ing in her eyes,) and will you love me ? and will my 
uncle, and Frederick, and Douglas, all love me? 

Yes, my dear little girl, we shall all love you ; and, 
what is far better, the great and good Being who 
made you, and through whose kindness you are now 
alive and well, will both love and reward you, if you 
are good. 

Will He take notice of such a little girl as I am ; 
and care whether I am good or not ? 

Yes, my love ; He notices every body and every 
thing, and is kind and good to all : even that little 
fly, that is creeping along the table, is under his 
protection ; and he furnishes it with all that is neces- 
sary to make its little life happy. Nothing gives him 



51- 

so much pleasure as to see his creatures happy ; but 
unless they are good, they never can be so. 

Mrs. Mackenzie now put an end to the conversa- 
tion, thinking that Isabella's feelings were sufficiently 
excited, and that it would be better to leave her to 
reflect upon what had been said. That she had done 
so, with considerable advantage, Mrs. Mackenzie 
was convinced the next time she brought her a do- 
zen tickets ; for, on her offering her the money, she 
said, " No, keep it for me, if you please, aunt; for 
I wish to save it till I have enough to buy a box for 
Julia." Mrs. Mackenzie further remarked, with 
pleasure, that she had not spoken of her intention 
even to her cousins ; and she felt the gratifying as- 
surance, from this little token of improvement, that 
she should be rewarded for her care and attention, 
by seeing her niece one day become an amiable and 
virtuous woman. 

Isabella was prevented from getting the money for 
her sister's box of paints, in as short a time as she 
had gained her own, by an interruption which occur- 
red in her usual course of lessons, on account of an 
illness with which Frederick was at this time at- 
tacked ; during which his mother devoted herself to 
him with unremitting assiduity. Though prevented, 
however, for so long a time from making use of the 
reward of her labours for her own more immediate 
gratification, Isabella never expressed the slightest 
degree of impatience, or any wish to change her in- 
tention ; but was anxious and solicitous for Frede- 
rick's recovery. She often begged to be allowed to 
go and sit with him, and help to amuse him : but, 
though sure that her company would be very accepta- 
ble to the invalid, who was much attached to her, 
Mr.,. Mackenzie forbad her going ntar his room, from 



55 

a fear that there might, perhaps, be some degree of 
infection in his complaint. 

One day, Douglas, who had been employed to 
gather those strawberries he could find ripe, came 
into the room with a small leaf full, and said, those 
were nil that he could get. I am sorry for it (an- 
swered his mother), for they are the only things that 
your brother eats with any satisfaction. Isabella, 
who heard this, did not say a word, but hastened 
into the garden, searched her little bed with great 
diligence, and soon collected a very nice leaf of 
strawberries, the ripening of which she had watched 
daily, for many weeks, with the idea of the pleasure 
she should have when they were ready to be eaten ; 
and, taking them to Mrs. Mackenzie, " Aunt (said 
she), will you be so good as to take these strawber- 
ries to Frederick, with my love, and tell him that 
1 hope that they will do him good." " I am sure they 
wiH, (said Mrs. Mackenzie, kissing her niece with 
delight,) they will be most acceptable, as a mark of 
your affection." 

My aunt is right (thought Isabella as Mrs. Mac- 
kenzie left the room) ; it is very delightful to be good. 
How sweet it was to be kissed so kindly by her for 
doing right ! 1 am sure I should not have had half 
so much pleasure from eating the strawberries my- 
self. 

At length Frederick was restored to health, and 
Isabella renewed her usual course of employment, 
which soon put her in possession of the necessary 
sum; and she found herself mistress of it just in 
time to get her present sent to her sister by her 
birth-day. Mrs. Mackenzie gave her leave to go with 
a servant to purchase the box herself; and, with 
the money ia her hand, s>he set oft' for that purpose, 



56 

They had not, however, got far, before the sound of 
a woman's voice, uttering bitter lamentations, in- 
duced Isabella to look into the house that they were 
near, the door of which stood half open ; when she 
saw a woman wringing her hands in an agony of 
distress, and a little girl standing beside her, crying 
piteously. Isabella, almost instinctively, went for- 
ward to see what was the matter. 

Oh ! we shall never get the better of it (cried the 
woman) : we shall all be ruined. 

What has happened to you? (asked the servant 
who was with Isabella.) 

Alas! (answered the woman, as well as her grief 
would let her speak,) we are come to a loss that we 
shall never get the better of. I work for a person 
that sells ready-made clothes, and had just finished 
what I had been working at, as hard as ever I could, 
all the week, and had desired my little girl to take 
them home, expecting to get in return as much 
money as would buy bread for us all ; but she, 
seeing a poor old man who had fallen down, and 
could not get up again without help, put her bun- 
dle on the step of a door, and went to try to raise 
him up ; but, when she turned round again to take 
up her bundle, it was gone ; and the person that em- 
ployed me has refused to give me any more work 
till I can pay for the things that are lost ; and they 
come to more than I can make up, if I were to 
work as hard as ever I could for twelve months to 
come. 

I hope (said Isabella) you were not angry at your 
little girl for being so good to the poor man ? 

No, miss, (replied the woman,) I was not angry 
at her for trying to help the man, for I always wish 
my children to be ready to do a good turn whenever 



57 

they can ; but she ought to have been more careful 
where she put the bundle : she has brought a mis- 
fortune upon us that we shall never get the better of; 
for, if I work myself to death, I can never pay for 
the things that are lost, and feed my family into the 
bargain. 

What is the value of them ? (asked Isabella.) 

Half-a-guinea, miss (answered the woman in a 
tone of despondency). 

Isabella's feelings were touched, and she looked 
at the money that she had in her hand, as if in hopes 
that it had increased since she received it from her 
aunt ; but it was still the same six shillings, and she 
could not, by looking at it, make it any more. I 
have only six shillings (said she), but I will give 
you these DOW, and the rest as soon as ever I get as 
much. 

The woman's countenance at first brightened up, 
and she expressed her gratitude in the strongest 
terms of thankfulness ; but, at last, seeming to re- 
collect something which damped her pleasure, Per- 
haps, miss (said she), your friends may be angry at 
you for giving so much money away. 

No (answered Isabella), it is my own; and I may 
do what I choose with it : nobody will find any fault 
with me. 

This assertion being confirmed by the servant, the 
woman took the money with the strongest marks of 
delight and gratitude ; and Isabella returned home, 
perfectly satisfied in her own mind with what she 
had done. Frederick and Douglas, as soon as she 
entered the room where they were, hastened to her 
to see her purchase. I have not bought one (said 
she, in answer to their inquiries) ; and, on Mrs. 
Mackenzie's expressing surprise at the circumstance, 



58 

she told her adventure in a plain and simple style, 
without seeming to have any wish to excite admira- 
tion for what she had done. In fact, the desire of 
admiration had not been at all a part of her motive : 
she had been influenced purely by a desire to do the 
poor woman a service, and had considered no other 
consequence. 

Then you must write another letter to Julia (said 
Mrs. Mackenzie) ; for you know, you mentioned, in 
that which you finished to-day, the present that you 
were going to send to her. 

But I mean still to send it, aunt (replied Isabella). 

How can you manage to do so, my dear, when you 
have no money ? 

You know, aunt, that my box is scarcely a bit 
worse than new ; so I will send her that, and wait till 
I can afford to buy another for myself. 

Now, that is indeed being generous (exclaimed 
Douglas, clasping his arms about the neck of his 
little cousin, in an ecstasy of admiration), that is 
being really and truly generous. 

But you shall not be deprived of your favourite 
amusement (cried Frederick in the same spirit of 
approbation) : you shall have my box to keep your- 
self, and make use of whenever you please, till you 
are able to get one of your own. 

No, my dear Frederick (answered his mother), I 
must protest against that arrangement. Isabella has 
acted a very humane and generous part throughout 
the whole of this affair, and deserves to be esteemed 
and loved for it ; but, by preventing her from bear- 
ing the sacrifice which she has made, you would de- 
prive her of the greatest part of the pleasure; for she 
could no longer feel that this act of charity was 
wholly her own. Let her, therefore, enjoy it entirely 



59 

"herself; and do you imitate her example in other in- 
stances, without encroaching upon her privileges in 
this. 

Thus did Mrs. Mackenzie judiciously endeavour 
to guard against her niece's falling into an opposite 
error, and becoming thoughtlessly extravagant, with 
the expectation of the deficiency always being made 
up to her ; convinced, at the same time, that, by 
accustoming her occasionally to a little self-denial, 
she was teaching her a lesson which would be useful 
to her through life. She saw, with pleasure, that 
Isabella not only maintained her resolution of making 
up the poor woman's loss, but that she had so much 
command over herself, as steadily to refuse the use 
of either of her cousin's boxes ; saying that, if she 
could get the loss so easily made up, it might, per- 
haps, make her less industrious in working for one 
of her own. 

We will now close our chapter with a letter from 
Frederick to Isabella, on her birth-day ; which will 
serve to show the progress the little girl made in the 
affections of her new friends. 

FREDERICK MACKENZIE TO ISABELLA 
FRANKLAND. 

(On her birth-day > with a present of a microscope.} 

My dear Isabella, 

The strawberries, which you sent me when I was 
ill, were the best and sweetest I ever tasted. I wish 
I had any thing as grateful and pleasant to give you 
in return on this birth-day morning. I have nothing, 
however, to offer of any value, except your kindness 
(of which I hope you will receive it as a token) 
should give value to this little microscope. It is a 



60 

very useful little instrument, and will enable you to 
see the smallest objects distinctly ; and can magnify 
any thing but my affection for you. I most sincerely 
wish you many happy birth-days ; but would not 
have them to arrive too quickly, for fear they should 
in time bring that day which is to take you from us. 
I love my uncle Darnley very much, and should like 
exceedingly to see him here again ; only that I am 
afraid his coming, and your going, would be very 
nearly connected. 

Douglas desires me to say, that he hopes you will 
accept the little tin box for preserving flowers, which 
he has put beside the microscope, with his kindest 
love ; but, as he does not like letter-writing, he has 
determined to let mine do for both : for, all that / 
have said, he thinks. He will join me, too, with 
heartfelt sincerity, in saying, how much we have all 
been pleased with the faithfulness with which you 
have performed your promise to the poor woman ; 
and your steadiness in denying yourself any pleasure 
to which you were not quite sure you had a right. 

We both hope to see you, one day or other, just 
such a woman as our dear mamma is ; and a kinder 
wish than this need not be expressed for you even 
by 

Your affectionate cousin, 

FREDERICK MACKENZIE. 



61 



CHAPTER V. 



CAPTAIN DARNLEY TO MRS. MACKENZIE. 

My dear sister, 

After the amazing revolutions which have taken 
place in the political world, you have, no doubt, 
been expecting, for some time, my arrival in my 
native country, and will not therefore be surprised 
to hear, that I landed yesterday at Portsmouth, and 
set oft immediately for Lady Ann Stanley's -, for I 
was anxious to see, as soon as possible, some of my 
family, after so long an absence. Though Julia's 
letters have regularly bespoken the gradual progress 
of her mind, from a child to a girl, and from a girl, 
I may say, to a woman, I had yet never accustomed 
myself to bring her to my imagination, but as the 
playful child 1 had left her; and could scarcely 
therefore persuade myself that I was not imposed 
upon, when my ward was introduced to me in the 
form of a beautiful and elegant young woman; and 
it was not till I had recognised some of her sweet 
smiles, and engaging expressions of countenance, 
that I could be fully convinced she was the same 
Julia I had left ten years ago. She is every thing 
that 1 could have wished to see her ; and does Lady 
Ann's care and attention great credit. I wish you 
may have met with as full a reward in Isabella ; and, 
indeed, I have little doubt that she too is a very fine 
G 



62 

girl, for I have always had great satisfaction from 
her letters : but still it is not to be supposed, that, 
where there was so much to make up, she could ever 
arrive at her sister's excellence, who had so much 
from nature to begin with. I am persuaded, how- 
ever, that she is both a very good and very pleasant 
girl, or else she would not be such a favourite with 
all of you as she appears, from your letters, to be. 
As to Frederick, she seems with him to have ri- 
valled Cicero and Demosthenes, and all the rest of 
the old gentlemen, for he never knows how to drop 
the subject when he begins to talk of her. I dare 
say, I should not know my two old favourites again, 
if I were to see them : they were two uncommonly 
fine manly lads. I hope you did not keep them so 
long tied to your apron-string as to spoil them, or 
else you would have a great sin to answer for. I 
find, however, that you have at last sent them from 
home ; and that they are now in the way, at the uni- 
versity, of seeing a little of the world. It would have 
given me great pleasure to have paid you a visit at 
Edinburgh, after my ten years' banishment ; but at 
present it is impossible. I have business with Go- 
vernment which must not be neglected, and which 
will oblige me to be in London in the course of a few 
days. I have come home at a very fortunate time 
for Julia, as Lady Ann is just about to reward Co- 
lonel St. John's perseverance, by bestowing her 
hand upon him ; and, when her ladyship is no longer 
sole mistress of her property, it would not be so 

fleasant to my little girl to be dependent upon her. 
intend, therefore, to have her to join me in London, 
as soon as ever I have got a house ready to receive 
her ; and shall, at the same time, call upon you to 
render up your charge; for it is full time that the 



63 

sisters should know a little of one another. I say 
nothing about your paying me a visit, because I am 
sure if you can you will do it, without any assur- 
ances from me of what pleasure it would give me 
to see you. I had almost forgotten to tell you, that 
I have engaged Miss Courtley, at Lady Ann's re- 
commendation, to be with the girls as a kind of 
chaperone ; for her ladyship thinks, and I am cer- 
tainly of the same opinion, that they are too young 
to be without a female companion older than them- 
selves. She is to have the same salary continued to 
her that she has hitherto received from Lady Ann, 
and is to have equally the care of both the girls. I 
have no doubt, as she is a most accomplished wo- 
man, that she will be a great acquisition to Isabella, 
as I understand you have persevered in your resolu- 
tion of neither sending her to school nor of having a 
governess for her at home. For, though you are as 
capable as any governess can be of teaching her, 
if you had time, it is not to be supposed but that, 
with your engagements, she must necessarily fall 
short of her sister's acquirements, who has been, for 
so many years, Miss Courtley's sole object. I will 
write again as soon as I am ready to receive Isabella 
in London ; and, in the mean time, with kind love 
to all your family, both those whom I have seen, 
and those who have made their appearance in this 
best of worlds since I left England. 
I remain, 

Your affectionate brother, 

HENRY DARNLEY. 






CAPTAIN DAKNLEY TO ISABELLA FRANKLAND. 

My dear Isabella, 

I have just had a letter from Julia, saying, that 
she and Miss Courtley intend to be in London on 
Sunday week, for I am now settled in a very plea- 
sant house in Harley Street: and, as your aunt and 
you both say that you will hold yourself in readiness 
to set off on a day's notice, I hope you will be able 
to arrive here on the same day, when it will give me 
great pleasure to receive both together. I am not 
surprised at your uncle Mackenzie's kindness in en- 
gaging himself to be your escort to town: for, as 
you say, one ought never to wonder at any thing 
.good or kind from him. I wish your aunt could 
have been of the party likewise; but your little 
favourites being ill of the hooping-cough, is a suffi- 
cient reason for her declining, to those who know 
what an attentive mother she is. 

I hope, my dear Isabella, I need not say any 
thing to you about meeting your sister with kind- 
ness; for, even if you were less disposed towards it 
than I am sure you are, her affectionate manners 
would win upon your heart at first sight. Miss 
Courtley, too, you will of course prepare yourself to 
treat with respect and attention, as the person that 
is to supply your aunt's place to you, at least for 
some time to come. In the hope of our meeting 
shortly, I am, my dear Isabella, 

Your affectionate uncle, 

HENKY DARNLEY. 

Well, my love, what does your uncle say? (asked 
Mrs. Mackenzie, as Isabella finished reading her 
letter.) He says, (answered Isabella, endeavouring 



65 

to speak cheerfully, as she put the letter into her 
aunt's hand, but failing in the attempt, and bursting 
into tears,) that he shall expect to see me in London 
next Sunday. 

That will barely leave you time for packing up, 
before you will need to set off (said Mrs. Macken- 
zie) ; but it is, perhaps, as well that it should be so ; 
for, when a parting is once fixed upon, the interme- 
diate time is little more than a continuation of pain 
to all parties. 

Why do you cry ? (said Emma, a sweet little girl 
of about four years old, coming up to her cousin, 
and speaking in an affectionate tone.) 

Because, my darling, (answered Isabella, taking 
the child on her knee, and clasping her fondly to 
her breast,) because I am obliged to go away and 
leave you. 

Then, who will teach me my lessons? (asked tho 
little girl.) 

You know you* have a good kind mamma, who 
will teach you every thing that you ought to learn. 

But I do not like you to go away (remonstrated 
the little girl, clasping her arms about Isabella's 
neck) ; I will not let you leave us, for I like to have 
you here. 

Come, (said Mrs. Mackenzie, seeing that these 
affectionate regrets did not tend to dry Isabella's 
tears,) this distress must not be indulged. Go, my 
dear girl, and arrange all your things ready for 
packing up, that you may find that business easier 
to-morrow. Isabella obeyed ; and endeavoured, by 
employing herself in preparing for her journey, to 
forget that it was to separate her from those whom 
she had loved from her infancy. 

She settled with the young people the different 
c;3 



66 

charges, with which she was to intrust each of them, 
of those things to which it had hitherto been her par- 
ticular business to attend. To Plenry, she assigned 
the care of her garden ; which, having been gra- 
dually increased, as she became more able to ma- 
nage it, was now a very beautiful little flower-plot, 
which he was very proud of having intrusted to him. 
To Laura, she left the charge of visiting a poor wo- 
man, to whom, being too old to be able to read her- 
self, Isabella had long been in the habit of reading 
the Bible for half an hour every day; and to the lit- 
tle Emma, who was more peculiarly her darling, 
devolved the employment of feeding some tame 
pigeons, and of looking out, in the cold weather, 
for the little robins, when they pecked at the win- 
dow for a few crumbs of bread. The business of 
packing then succeeded ; and she was kept fully en- 
gaged ; for Mrs. Mackenzie, conscious of the good 
effects of employment, took care that she should do 
all herself, that she might not have too much time 
to reflect: and when, in the evening, all was in 
readiness, and she sat down beside her aunt, and re- 
collected that it would probably be long before she 
again enjoyed such a pleasure, that affectionate rela- 
tion, so far from gratifying her own vanity, by en- 
couraging her niece's regrets, endeavoured to lead 
her to the contemplation only of what would amuse 
and please her. bhe talked to her of the different 
interesting objects which she would see on her jour- 
ney, and which to allow her more time for observ- 
ing, Mr. Mackenzie had determined to set out two 
days sooner than they needed to have done, and 
reminded her of the visit which they should pay to 
Frederick and Douglas at Oxford. Besides, do 
you remember, (added she,) that your friend Mary 



67 

Ann Hulmc, will be in London by the time you get 
there? Oh ! yes, (replied Isabella, her eyes spark- 
ling with pleasure, as she anticipated the meeting 
with her favourite companion,) 1 could not fail of 
remembering that. It is one of my greatest sources 
of comfort. 

I have great satisfaction (returned Mrs. Macken- 
zie) at the idea of your having such a friend to 
meet; for, though you are sure to find two very kind 
ones in your uncle and sister, the addition of such 
a companion as the modest, intelligent, and affec- 
tionate Mary Ann, cannot fail of being a great ac- 
quisition : and I hope your early friendship will be 
strengthened and confirmed by your future inter- 
course. Isabella, delighted to hear her friend thus 
praised by one whose judgement she so highly va- 
lued, almost ceased to remember, in the pleasure of 
conversing with her aunt, that she was about to 
leave her for so long a time. 

Though the chaise was ordered at a very early 
hour, the whole family assembled to take leave of 
their favourite: even the lowest of the servants 
came forward, anxious to have a kind farewell from 
the amiable girl. Adieu 1 <lear Oaklands, (said she, 
with a sigh, as the carriage drove off',) never shall I 
see a place I Ji*ce half so wejl. 

You have not seen what London can produce yet 
(said Mr. Mackenzie). 

Never can it produce so many dear and interest- 
ing objects (said Isabella, looking out of the win- 
dow as long as she could discriminate the group 
which stood on the steps at the door, watching the 
carriage till it was quite out of sight). Though Isa- 
bella^ inclinations would have led her to indulge in 
melancholy regrets-lbr the loss of the friends she had 



68 

parted with for the first time in her life sinco she 
came to Oaklands, she was too much in the habit of 
considering her duty to others to give way to her 
feelings, and therefore showed a grateful readiness 
to receive her uncle's attempts to amuse her; and, 
ever desirous of information, she conversed with him 
about the different objects which presented them- 
selves to their observation as they went along. 
After examining the cathedrals of Durham and 
York, the cloth- hall at Leeds, and the beautiful ruins 
of Fountain's Abbey, which Mr. Mackenzie kindly 
went a little out of his way to show her, they arrived, 
at the end of the third day, at Oxford ; and were re- 
ceived, with great delight, by the two brothers, who, 
being apprized of their coming, were in readiness to 
receive them. The evening was spent with cheer- 
fulness and pleasure by all the party; and the whole 
of the next day fully occupied in showing Isabella 
many objects worthy of attention in that ancient and 
venerable seat of learning. It had been Mr. Mac- 
kenzie's first intention to be in London on the Satur- 
day evening, as he had an objection to employ the 
whole of the Sunday in travelling ; but, finding Isa- 
bella very desirous of having a pretty minute exami- 
nation of so celebrated a place, and the young men, 
of course, very unwilling to part with them, he at 
length determined to give up the idea of arriving at 
their journey's end before the Monday ; and there- 
fore fixed upon staying to attend divine service on the 
Sunday morning ; and then, by going a stage or two 
afterwards, make the distance very easy to accom- 
plish, in good time, the following day. Nothing 
could exceed the delight of the two brothers on their 
father's agreeing to this arrangement ; for, having al- 
ways been treated by him with that ease and affa- 



69 

bility which was calculated to win their most perfect 
confidence, they felt towards him every sentiment of 
respect, and even veneration, yet conversed with 
ease and unreserve; for the authority of the father 
was blended with the familiarity of the friend. They 
had no temptation for that change of character, 
wljjjch they so often observed amongst their college 
companions when visited by their parents. Their 
hearts were virtuous, and their manners pure: they 
could, therefore, meet their father with confidence 
and satisfaction, and were ever sure to find in him 
a kind approving friend. 

I never gave up the idea of visiting Oaklands with 
so little regret before (said Frederick, on his father's 
telling them, a short time before he took leave, that 
it was their uncle's wish that they should spend their 
next vacation with him), for there will be such a 
strong string to pull the other way, when Isabella 
is in London, that the chain which leads to Edin- 
burgh will be forced, I believe, to stretch and give 
way a little. 

There is another inducement too (said Douglas), 
for I have an amazing curiosity, Isabella, to see that 
beautiful sister of yours. There is a young man 
here, from Southampton, who has met with her 
once or twice ; and he says, she is one of the great- 
est beauties he ever saw : and he tells me, that many 
people were very much vexed at Lady Ann for not 
letting her be more frequently seen : but, as Julia 
grew older, her ladyship could not help seeing, that 
the same cause had very different effects on Julia's 
beauty and her own ; for, whilst it brought the one 
to perfection, it led the other to decay, and the 
contrast was so striking, that it was supposed to be 
the reason of her ladyship's sudden prudence in 



70 

keeping her charge shut up, because she was too 
young to be introduced ; asj well as of her great 
\villingness to part with her, as soon as my uncle 
expressed a wish to have her. 

Then, I suppose, your charitable judgement will 
attribute the same motives to your mother (said 
Mr. Mackenzie), for being equally ready to p^rt 
with Isabella; for she is both handsome and im- 
proving in beauty, as well as her sister ; and your 
mother, like Lady Ann, is past the meridian of hers. 

No! (said Douglas, with warmth,) no one could 
ever think of ascribing such motives to my mother ; 
for though her personal charms may be fading, as 
well as Lady Ann's, she has others, which are only 
advancing to perfection, which never fail to call forth 
admiration, and which will keep improving till she 
has ceased to delight us with the sight of them. 

Then be less severe in your judgement of others 
f answered his father), if you are so indignant at 
such suspicions being imputed to those you love. 

But (remonstrated Douglas) there can be no com- 
parison between my mother and Lady Ann, a ga} r , 
thoughtless woman of fashion, who thinks beauty 
and riches the only things worthy of admiration ; 
and who, now that she is losing the first, will have 
little left worth possessing. 

Douglas (said Isabella, patting him good tem- 
peredly on the shoulder as she spoke), I must not 
sit and hear my sister's friend thus censured, so I 
beg you will change the subject. 

Here is the carriage, (said Mr. Mackenzie, look- 
ing out of the window,) so we will set off, and leave 
both Douglas and his scandal. 

The punishment bears no proportion to the crime 
(replied Douglas, laughing) ; and it could not have 



71 

been more severe, if I had told Isabella that she was 
losing her beauty. 

Charges, which are so entirely without founda- 
tion, seldom give much offence (said Frederick as 
he handed Isabella into the carriage, and bade her 
an affectionate adieu for a few months). 

Nothing particular occurred to the travellers, who 
arrived, in good dinner-time, at Harley Street. Isa- 
bella, jumping out of the carriage, soon received a 
hearty embrace from the captain, and the next mo- 
ment was pressed, with the most enthusiastic rap- 
tures, in the arms of her sister ; whom, as she got 
leisure to view her more particularly, she found to 
be a most beautiful and elegant girl, much more 
formed and womanly than she had expected to see 
her, and more so, she felt conscious, than she herself 
was, though full a year older ; for the simple retired 
mode of life, to which Isabella had been accustomed, 
had been the means of her retaining much more of 
girlish simplicity than her sister's more gay and 
fashionable habit had produced. 

But why (said the captain, when the strangers 
were settled) did you disappoint us yesterday? Miss 
Courtley and Julia arrived by dinner, and we waited 
some time for you, and kept looking and watching 
all the evening, in expectation of your coming. I 
am sorry (said Mr. Mackenzie) that we should 
have kept you waiting. It was our intention to 
have been with you on Saturday night ; but we had 
so much to see at Oxford, that too much of the day 
was spent before we were aware of its progress, to 
allow us to fulfil our intentions ; and, as neither of 
us was inclined to travel on Sunday, at least during 
the hours of service, we determined to comply 
with Frederick's and Douglas's request, and stay 



72 

there till after that time, and attend public worship 
with them. 

Attend public worship! (exclaimed Julia, turning 
to her sister :) is it possible you could feel so inclined 
whilst in the dishabille of travelling? 

I took care not to be in dishabille (answered Isa- 
bella). 

I am happy to think I was not your fellow-travel- 
ler (said Miss Courtley, shrugging her shoulders) ; 
for I should have had little notion of being stopped 
on my journey for the sake of hearing a long duil 
sermon. 

But the devotional part might, perhaps, have had 
more power to detain you (said Mr. Mackenzie). 

Oh ! I should have comforted myself with think- 
ing, that I could have said my prayers as fervently 
in the carriage as in any church. 

There is little doubt of it (thought Isabella, but 
the next moment blamed herself for the severity of 
the meaning with which the words passed even in 
her own mind). 

After all, however, I cannot say but I think my 
brother perfectly right (said the captain, who was 
in reality a truly pious man) ; and I am very much 
ashamed to think, that, instead of urging Isabella to 
travel on that day, I did not write to prevent you 
and Julia doing it. 

O my dear sir ! it would have been a very use- 
less piece of trouble (replied Miss Courtley) ; for we 
should not have known how to have got the day 
spent if we had not been travelling : we had all 
packed up, and ready for moving, and could not 
have settled to any thing comfortably. 

And this is the woman who is to fill my aunt's 
place ! (thought Isabella, with a sigh.) 



73 

The evening was spent in a great many friendly 
inquiries, and in a very close examination and com- 
parison, by the captain, of his two adopted daugh- 
ters. Though Julia still held her place as first 
favourite, it was impossible not to be pleased with 
Isabella's amiable and unassuming manners, and 
intelligent and sensible countenance. She is really 
a very fine girl (said the captain to Mr. Mackenzie, 
when the females were withdrawn for the night); 
and, though Julia certainly seizes the heart more 
powerfully at first, I have no doubt, if Isabella ap- 
pears as well on further acquaintance as she does 
at present, that I shall soon like her quite well 
enough. 

Every one must admire her unaffected beauty, and 
unassuming good sense, even at first sight (.said 
Mr. Mackenzie) ; but it is only on a long and inti- 
mate acquaintance, that Isabella can be loved as she 
deserves. 

I am a very fortunate man, (returned the cap- 
tain,) to have two such daughters without any of the 
trouble of educating them. But I hope, brother, 
my sister will now give up a little, and allow that 
other people's mode of educating may be as good 
as hers; for you see, though these girls have been 
brought up as differently as possible, it is hard to 
tell which way has been most successful. 

That must be determined by a longer trial (an- 
swered Mr. Mackenzie) ; but, if you recollect, you 
would not allow it to be possible to make any thing 
that was good of Laura's charge. 

I grant (said the captain) she had a most difficult 

soil to cultivate, and am much surprised at her 

success ; but yet, after all, you must not expect me 

to believe that she would bear dissecting and ex- 

ii 



74 

amining as closely as her sister, who had a dispo- 
sition from nature which was all that could be 
wished. 

I hope sincerely (said Mr. Mackenzie) that they 
will both bear the test of time, and wish you a good 
night, and every comfort in your new family. 



CHAPTER VI. 

ISABELLA, who had scarcely been able to pre- 
vail upon herself to lose sight of her uncle Macken- 
zie, during his stay in town, felt it very difficult, on 
his departure, to take leave of him with composure, 
which, however, she was determined to do, as she 
knew it would be a satisfaction to her aunt to hear 
that he had left her in tolerable spirits; but no 
sooner had the carriage driven off, than the tears, 
which had only trembled in her eyes whilst he was 
present, began, in spite of every effort, to force 
their way down her cheeks, and she went into the 
first room vacant, that she might indulge herself, 
for a few minutes, in the luxury of allowing them to 
flow unrestrained. 

My dear Isabella, (cried Julia, coming into the 
apartment, whilst the handkerchief was still at her 
sister's eyes,) you surely are not so inconsiderate as 
to allow yourself to cry o seriously, you will spoil 
your beauty for the whole day to come. 

And does a consideration for your beauty always 
enable you to keep your feelings under restraint ? 
(asked Isabella, wiping her eyes, and endeavouring 
to smile.) 



75 

Oh! nobody, who had any thought, would ever 
be so foolish as to swell up their eyes with crying 
(answered Julia). A gentle tear, now and then, is 
sometimes necessary, and has a very pretty effect; 
but a violent flood of them is of all things the most 
disgusting, both at the time and in its effects after- 
wards. 

I should have no hopes then (said Isabella,) of 
your excusing me for this indulgence in one, if I did 
not know that you too have but lately known what 
it was to part with very dear friends, and I have no 
doubt, on that occasion, indulged in the same weak- 
ness. 

Indeed, you are mistaken (returned Julia) ; for, 
even had I been willing to give way to such violent 
grief, I did not at all feel inclined to it on taking 
leave of Lady Ann, for I believe she and I were 
mutually satisfied to part ; and, though we expressed 
our grief in the most tender and affectionate man- 
ner, I am sure there was a very small portion of it 
between us in reality. She was, on her part, very 
glad to get quit of one who served continually, by 
the power of contrast, to remind her that she was 
neither so young nor so beautiful as she once was : 
and who must therefore be a most unwelcome com- 
panion at this time, when just on the point of ap- 
pearing as a bride ; and 1 was thankful to be relieved 
from the restraints which her jealousy had imposed 
upon me. For, ever since I had the misfortune to 
cease to be a child, she has been particularly 
anxious that I should be kept close to my lessons, 
and make the most of the time which was in my 
power. 

Julia might have gone on much longer, before 
she was interrupted by her astonished sister, who 

H2 



7G 

could only gaze at her with amazement ; at length 
said she, Is it possible, Julia, that you can talk 
thus of a person, who has been even more than a 
mother to you ? 

Oh ! as to that, ''returned Julia,) I assure you the 
obligations are pretty nearly equal. Lady Ann 
was ambitious of being thought the most feeling and 
the most generous woman in the world ; and, there- 
fore, any one who enabled her to confirm that cha- 
racter was, in fact, doing her an essential service. 

What a strange rattling girl you are, Julia ! (said 
Isabella, who now began to hope her sister was only 
endeavouring, by jokes, to amuse her mind from 
her regret.) 

I assure you, I am saying nothing but what I 
really think and mean (answered Julia in a seri- 
ous tone of remonstrance). 

I should be sorry to think that was the case 
(replied Isabella, looking at her sister with a 
mingled expression of doubt and concern) ; for, 
whatever might be her motives, Lady Ann has 
acted towards you in a mosi kind and liberal man- 
ner. You have been nursed in the lap of luxury 
and indulgence, and have had opportunities of im- 
provement, not often within the reach of those 
whose situation gives them a much better right to 
expect it. 

Bless me ! (exclaimed Julia, interrupting her sis- 
ter,) who is this, coming up the steps? Nothing 
less, I declare, than a plain demure-looking young 
woman, who even seems like a quaker. 

And I dare say she is one, (said Isabella, her 
countenance kindling with delight and animation;; 
for it is, I have no doubt, my friend Mary Ann 
Hulme. 



77 

Your friend ! (exclaimed Julia ;) where in the 
world did you meet with such a one? 

She spent three years with a relation, who was a 
particular friend of' my aunt Mackenzie, at Edin. 
burgh (replied Isabella); for she, like ourselves, 
had the misfortune to lose her mother when very 
young, and there we became intimate, and a friend- 
ship was formed between us, which, I hope, will be 
as lasting as life. You must not allow yourself to be 
prejudiced against her on account of her religion ; 
for you will soon find that she has nothing of the 
quaker about her, but its modest simplicity and neat- 
ness. She is but here the door opened, and the 
next moment her friend, whose eulogy she was be- 
ginning, was locked in Isabella's arms. Nothing 
could be more warm and heartfelt than the meeting 
between these two friends ; and, as Julia witnessed 
their unaffected expressions of delight and affection, 
she felt emotions of envy, which, a few moments 
before, she Could not have thought it possible for 
such regard to have excited. Allow me (said Isa- 
bella, taking her friend by the hand, when the first 
transports of pleasure were over,) to introduce you 
to my sister. 

I have had so much pleasure in Isabella's friend- 
ship, that I shall be glad to add her sister also to 
my list of friends (said the quaker, holding out her 
hand, and speaking with a frankness which seemed 
to struggle with a natural reserve and diffidence of 
disposition). 

If you can think of making a friend of a weak, 
giddy, frivolous being, (answered Julia, returning 
the salutation with a graceful cordiality,) I shall be 
very glad to have my name entered on the list. 
H 3 



78 

I do not expect perfection, even in my friends 
(replied Mary Ann, smiling). 

But there arejfou, I dare say, who put up for the 
title, with so Jew pretensions for deserving it (re- 
turned Julia). 

As thou art not very old, however, (said Mary 
Ann, with the same good-tempered smile on her 
countenance,) we will hope that there yet may be 
great improvements. 

Uh ! do not hope any thing of the kind (cried the 
volatile Julia) ; for, I assure you, I have no expec- 
tations of it myself. 

Then we will, at least, give thee the credit of not 
having sought to gain our good opinion by false pre- 
tensions (observed Mary Ann). 

Here a knock at the door announced other visi- 
tors; and, soon after, the two Miss Freelys, of whom 
Julia had known something whilst they were on a 
visit at Southampton, made their appearance. Julia 
was all ecstasy at seeing them, and Isabella and her 
visitor were soon left to the undisturbed enjoyment 
of their own conversation; for, the unfashionable 
appearance of the modest Mary Ann being ho- 
noured with little notice from her gay and self-im- 
portant acquaintance, Julia soon became ashamed 
of the little consideration which she had hitherto 
bestowed upon her. This was a circumstance, how- 
ever, scarcely noticed by Mary Ann herself, who 
was superior to such petty considerations. With a 
mind enlarged and highly cultivated, she had stores 
within herself which made her proof against the 
pointless arrows of weak and insignificant vanity. 

My election is made (said Julia as soon as their 
visitors were gone). 



79 

So is mine (answered Isabella). 

And there is no danger of our being rivals, I am 
persuaded (said Julia, laughing). I have no notion 
of the starched formality of your quaker friend: her 
very dress is enough to settle the business with me. 

As to her dress, (replied Isabella,) I do not know 
what fault can possibly be found with it ; for, except- 
ing simplicity, it has nothing of the quaker about it. 

You think her handsome too, no doubt (said 
Julia in a sarcastic tone). 

No (returned Isabella mildly), that, even my 
partiality cannot fancy. But, though at first sight 
she may even be considered plain, the intelligence 
and sensibility which kindle in her countenance, 
whenever she enters into conversation, often make 
it necessary that we should examine her features, to 
be convinced that we had not, at first, formed a 
wrong judgement. 

Well! at any rate, (answered Julia,) she is too 
perfect, too exactly what she ought to be, to suit 
my taste. I must have a friend who is more liable to 
errors, and then she will the more easily overlook mine. 

I doubt that greatly (said Isabella) ; it is not, 
I believe, those who are the most faulty themselves, 
who are the readiest to overlook the failings of 
others. I am glad, however, to find, that even your 
attempt at blaming my friend is the highest praise 
you could bestow. 

But I did not mean (answered Julia) at all to 
bestow even such negative praise upon her, as to 
make her out to be good merely because she does 
not do any thing that is wrong; for I have a fault, 
and a very great one, to allege against her, she is 
cold and heartier, she has no generous glow, no 
fire about her. 



80 

You must not set that down as a fact, from her 
simple and unostentatious exterior (replied Isa- 
bella); though, even from her countenance, I should 
suppose the contrary might have been gathered: for 
its glowing intelligence, and the sweet expression of 
her eyes, when her modesty will allow them to be 
seen, are sufficient to bespeak a mind far above the 
common mould. If these things, however, are not 
enough to convince you that she has a heart, I must 
beg you to read some of her poetic effusions, in proof 
of my assertion. Here is one (added Isabella, taking 
a paper out of her desk,) just at hand, which will, I 
hope, convince you that you have formed too hasty 
an opinion. It was written on my last birth-day, 
whilst I stood by her, and in consequence of a re- 
quest, which I had jokingly made, that she would 
be my poet-laureat, and celebrate my birth-day with 
an ode. Julia, taking the offered paper, read the 
following verses : 

My Friend has ask'd me, on this day, 
To pour for her the votive lay, 

If right I understood ; 
Then hsten whilst thy minstrel sings, 
And, like a poet-laureat, brings 

The tributary ode. 
But what far different feelings fire, 
What different thoughts our breasts inspire, 

Are obvious to all eyes : 
He sings, to charm a monarch's ear, 
In strains which truth would bluish to hear, 

Or, hearing, would despise. 
At interest's call, he sweeps the strings, 
And flatt'ry's sweetest incense brings, 

The honeycomb of praise ; 
And kings have placed, I scarce know how, 
The laurel on his venal brow, 
And fame's unfading bays. 



81 

Whilst I, a maid unknown to fame, 
With but few friends I dare to claim, 

Yet those I hope sincere ; 
When fond affection bids me sing, 
Grateful, I touch the trembling airing, 

To friendship's listening ear. 
Arid oh! may this auspicious day 
Find thee contented, happy, gay, 

Possessing, and possest, 
Or all that life's rough read can smooth, 
Of all that can affliction soothe, 

And make thee truly blest. 
What though dark clouds may sometimes lour, 
And chilling mildews blast the flower 

Of every opening joy ; 
Heed not the clouds which round thee roll, 
Sweet is the sunshine of the soul, 

The pure clear mental sky. 
May that sweet-smiling cherub, Hope, 
Which buoys the sinking spirits up, 

Be still thy constant guest; 
And Peace her downy pinions spread, 
And all her sacred influence shed, 

To harmonize thy breast. 
A faithful, unaspiring friend, 
May I thy devious steps attend 

Through life's uneven road; 
With thee to joy, with thee to grieve ; 
For sympathy will oft relieve 

The heart of half its load. 
And, when thon seek'st a simple bard, 
To sing a song of truth unheard, 

But nobody must know it ; 
To speak the dictates of the heart, 
Unaided, unadorn'd by art, 

Then I'm thy birth-day poet.* 

" They are very tolerable," said Julia, throwing 
down the paper: then, placing herself at the instru- 

* These verses were addressed to the Author by a friend, 
exactly in the manner described by Isabella. 



82 

ment, she began to play with great diligence, as if 
determined to put a stop to any further conversa- 
tion. Isabella felt a disappointment, which a mind 
less properly regulated would have sought to vent 
by endeavouring to retort upon her sister a part of 
the mortification which she herself experienced. 

In the evening, as the captain sat between his 
two daughters, as he delighted to call them, and to 
whom he grew every day more attached, Now, 
girls (said he), it is time that you should know 
that I do not intend you to be mere fine ladies, but 
expect you should become notable housewives into 
the bargain. I intend you to take, by turns, the 
office of house-keeper; and that you will attend to 
the family concerns as though you expected, one day 
or other, to have one of your own to look after. 

I shall like it of ail things (said Isabella); it will 
be a pleasant change in v^i employments, and give 
a variety to our amusements. 

It will be a great amusement to you all, I am 
sure, to see me become house-keeper (said Julia) ; 
for I know as much of it as httle Bijou (added she, 
laughing, and pointing to her little lap dog, which 
lay at her feet). 

Then it is the more necessary that you should be- 
gin to learn (answered her uncle*). I do not expect, 
however, that you should take any very active part 
in the business at first, but merely to have the paying 
of the bills, and ordering what is wanted from the 
butcher, baker, and grocer ; for that is work which I 
have never been accustomed to, and have no notion 
of doing myself. Besides, you know you will have 
both Miss Courtley and our excellent old house- 
keeper to advise you. I have been calculating, and 
I think 600/. ought to answer one year's expenses in 
these necessaries. You shall therefore take it by 



83 

turns, for a quarter of a year together ; and if, after 
the house is supplied in the style we are now living, 
you can save any thing out of the 150/. which I sh; 11 
give you at the beginning of every quarter, that I 
shall consider as your own. The principal injunc- 
tion which I shall lay upon you is, that you will 
take care always to pay your bills immediately, for 
nothing will displease me so much as your having 
debts standing. Should your money fall short, and 
you con show me regular accounts and receipts for 
all that you have spent, I shall not think of confining 
you to the h'rst sum ; I will pay with pleasure all that 
is beyond, in the expenses, and you shall keep to 
yourselves whatever they are under the sum given to 
you. 

That is a most capital bargain (said Isabella) ; 
we may gain, it seems, but we are sure not to lose 
by it. 

As you are the oldest, Isabella (continued the 
captain), you shall begin, and then this giddy 
inexperienced girl may, perhaps, be picking up a 
little prudence in the mean time to commence her 
merchandize with. To prevent you, however, from 
having too strong a temptation to pinch and starve 
us, I intend to allow you each, at present, 60/. a-year, 
for your own particular expenses, and increase the 
sum as you get older, and may require more. 

Instead of pinching, we shall have to be extrava- 
gant (said Isabella, looking with a sweet and grate- 
ful smile at her kind uncle), or else we shall never 
be able to get quit of so much money. 

There will not be any great extravagance neces- 
sary, I presume (said Julia, whose countenance 
did not express all the satisfaction to be seen in her 
sister's); few who have been in the habit of giving 



84- 

to the poor, will have much difficulty in disposing of 
any overplus which may remain. 

That's right, my little girl (said the captain, put- 
ting his arm round Julia's waist, and drawing her 
towards him, whilst he imprinted a hearty kiss of 
approbation on her cheek), that is just the right 
way of talking. Never forget, in your o\rn abun- 
dance, the wants of your fellow creatures, and then 
you will, in your turn, deserve to be remembered by 
the great Giver of every good. 

Julia cast a look of exultation on her sister, as if 
to say, Such praises will never be gained by your 
cold and systematic course of proceeding; but 
Isabella felt a consciousness of her own motives, 
which made her indifferent to the superiority ex- 
pressed. 

The manner in which she set about the duties of 
her new office showed that the judicious friend, who 
had superintended her education, had not deemed 
household economy the least important branch of it. 

Julia, however, often felt the persuasion that, at 
the quarter's end, even the prudent Isabella would 
be found in the lurch ; for she scarcely ever saw her 
take any concern in what was going forward : but 
Julia did not consider, that, whilst she lay in bed, 
till even her kind and indulgent uncle was some- 
times out of patience waiting so long for breakfast, 
Isabella had already had several hours on her hand, 
and as these hours were devoted to her domestic 
arrangements, there was no drawback on the time 
dedicated to the general pursuits of the family. The 
captain, too, though unwilling to acknowledge, even 
to himself, the shadow of a defect in his favourite 
Julia, could not but observe, that her sister had the 
talent of arranging her time, so as to be able to pay 



85 

him much more attention than Julia fancied her 
time allowed. 

He was particularly fond of walking, and especi- 
ally when having one of his nieces for a companion; 
but Julia had generally some arrangement at his 
time of walking, and he had then to turn to the ever- 
ready and willing Isabella. 

Nor was this the only time that he was led to a 
comparison of the two sisters ; for Julia, whose pas- 
sion was to be admired, and who was all animation 
in the presence of strangers, soon became languid 
and vapourish, if condemned to spend an evening 
without company. If asked to play, she was too 
much fatigued ; if invited by her uncle to a game at 
back-gammon, (of which he was particularly fond,) 
her head ached, and she could not bear the noise ; 
or, if he wished her to sing him one of hi? favourite 
song*, her voice was scarcely ever in tune, when its 
exertion was only required to amuse those every, 
day hearers whom she had always about her. I 
wish Isabella could sing (said the captain one 
evening, on Julia's declining). 

I cannot sing with so much taste and judgement 
as Julia (said the unassuming Isabella); but, if you 
would like it, I will do my best. 

Why! can you sing at all ? (asked her uncle, sur- 
prised at her offer.) 

I can sing to amuse myself; and sometimes used 
to succeed in amusing my Oakland friends (answer- 
ed Isabella, whilst a modest tinge spread over her 
,face and neck). 

Why have you never sung for me, since you came, 
:ithen? (replied the captain.) 

Because you never asked me (said Isabella with 
a good-tempered smile) ; " and I thought it un- 

i 
\ 



86 

necessary to offer, when you had a better performer 
within your power : but, now that Julia is too much 
indisposed to sing, I shall be very glad to do my 
best to supply her place ;" and then, without any 
further solicitation, going to the instrument, and 
turning to a song which she knew to be a favourite of 
her uncle's, she began it immediately. If Isabella had 
less skill and compass of voice than her sister, she 
had sweetness and melody which compensated, to 
the ear of feeling, for any other deficiency, and her 
uncle listened with an equal proportion of surprise 
and delight. " Upon my word, you have astonished 
me! (he exclaimed, as Isabella, after going through 
all that she knew him to be particularly fond of, 
rose from the instrument :) but, now that I know 
what you can do, you shall not, in future, be for- 
gotten." 

Julia, however, upon finding that others could 
contribute amusement as well as herself, was too 
jealous of rivalship not to be roused to more exer- 
tion, and (fearing that Isabella might gain too much 
the ascendancy in pleasing her uncle) became more 
alert in her endeavours, when solicited ; and, as she 
generally performed so well upon these occasions, 
Isabella was seldom called upon to renew her talent; 
yet, whenever requested, she complied with as much 
alacrity and cheerfulness as though the compliment 
had always been paid her. 

The two girls having written to Lady Ann and to 
Mrs. Mackenzie, an account of l;he economical ar- 
rangements which their uncle h: id made, received, 
about this time, answers to their- letters, which we 
shall here transcribe. 



87 
LADY ANM ST. JOHN TO JULIA FRANKLAND. 

My sweet girl will not, I hope, suspect, from my 
slowness in answering her letter, that I have for a 
moment ceased to think of her ; or, that I have not 
continually regretted the succession of engagements 
which has prevented me from following my incli- 
nation in noticing her kind remembrance of me ear- 
lier. How naturally have you drawn the picture of 
your sister, just exactly what J expected you would 
find her, cold, methodical, and prudent, the very 
counterpart of her sage instructress, whom I once 
saw, when she was about the age that Isabella is 
now. And the captain, it seems, means to metamor- 
phose my sprightly J ulia into the same kind of do- 
mestic animal. I laughed excessively at the idea of 
your having the liberal sum of sixty pounds a-year 
allowed you, by way of saving you from the temp- 
tation of economizing the house-money to assist your 
own necessities : but the captain is a novice in the 
wants and expenses of the female sex, when placed 
in a fashionable situation in life, and he has been 
assisted, no doubt, by Mrs. Mackenzie, who knows 
almost as much about the matter as he does himself. 
And, as to havingany thing to spare for charity, I dare 
say such a thing would never enter her head ; or, at 
least, a sixpence, screwed from her by the urgent 
solicitations of a beggar, would, at any time, satisfy 
her mind that she was humane and generous, Let 
not this stinted allowance, however, check the soft 
impulses of pity in my sweet Julia's feeling bosom, 
or freeze the warm current of liberality which is so 
natural to her ; for, though I have it not in my power, 
at present, to send her an inclosure, she may depend 
upon occasional remittances, to make up for any 
i 2 



88 

deficiencies which she might feel. I shall write 
again very soon, and give you some account of the 
gaiety in which 1 have been involved, for I am now 
interrupted, and can scarcely get time to assure my 
beloved Julia, how fondly and affectionately I am 
hers, 

ANN ST. Jony. 

The Colonel desires me to say all that is kind for 
him. 

MRS. MACKENZIE TO ISABELLA FRANKLAND. 

Your letter, my dear Isabella, met with a very cor- 
dial reception from all your friends at Oaklands. 
There was quite a group formed round me to hear 
it read : even the little Emma stood over me with 
great attention, and seemed fully repaid, for having 
to listen to so much that she could not understand, 
by hearing, at length, her name mentioned, and that 
there was a kiss for her. 

I am much pleased, my dear girl, with the ac- 
count you give of your sister, for you prove your- 
self to have both discernment to see her foibles, 
and affection and charity to palliate them. She -has 
laboured under great disadvantages ; but I hope 
her heart is yet untainted, and that she has a virtuous 
disposition, and natural good sense, which v/ill, in 
time, correct all her little failings, and make her as 
amiable as you already describe her to be lovely 
and engaging. We all participated, with great plea- 
sure, in your meeting with your friend Mary Ann. 
It is a great satisfaction to me that you have such a 
female companion near you : for, with an elegance of 
mind, which is capable of giving additional relish to 
the highest sources of enjoyment, she possesses a 



89 

propriety of judgement, and a degree of self com- 
mand, which are not often to be met with in those 
who have arrived at much greater maturity in point 
of years. 

I certainly did, as you suppose, give your uncle a 
hint about engaging Julia and yourself in the family 
arrangements, for you know how necessary a part 
I consider it in the education of a female ; and, as you 
have already been in the habit of such engagements, 
I am sure it will only be an additional source of 
amusement to you : and I would have you, whenever 
you can do it without seeming to undervalue her abi- 
lities, always be ready to assist Julia with your expe- 
rience. Do not be afraid of giving advice, from the 
dread of being thought conceited or self-sufficient ; 
for it is the manner, not the mere act, of ottering it, 
which arrogates an undue self-importance. Advice, 
given in the way of remark, is generally the most rea- 
dily received. I would not have you, however, when 
you see occasion, shrink from the task of giving it 
in a more direct manner: your only care then is to 
do it with gentleness and kindness, and show that it 
is the result of a sincere concern for her, and not 
from any wish to display superiority. In the ar- 
rangement of your own personal expenses, I have 
so often spoken to you on the subject, and so fre- 
quently recommended to you the study of Mrs. Cha- 
pone's excellent Advice to her Niece, which antici- 
pates all that I can possibly have to offer, that I 
shall not attempt to enlarge upon the subject, sa- 
tisfied that you are not now called upon to act, for 
yourself in some measure, without having previ- 
ously laid in a store of well- arranged principles to 
guide and regulate you. Never let the fear of being 
thought mean induce you to do an extravagant ac- 
i 3 



90 

tion ; or the dread of being called extravagant lead 
you to the commission of a mean one. Let your ac- 
tions be the result of judgement, and they will be 
sanctioned by all the best feelings of the heart. 
Self-reproach and mortification are generally the 
companions of those who act from feeling only, and 
leave to judgement to approve or censure as chance 
may determine. Henry desires me to tell you, that 
your garden goes on very well ; and J will add, of 
my own accord, that he keeps it very neat, and free 
from weeds. Laura performs her task of reading to 
old Susan with great diligence ; hut you will have a 
letter from Henry before long, giving an account of 
the different stewardships, so that it is unnecessary 
for me to enter into any further particulars. Your 
uncle heard from Frederick the other day, who 
has already begun to count the number of days 
which have to intervene before their departure for 
London, which was then fifty-nine. I wisli there 
were no more between this time and that of your 
uncle's promised visit, with his two daughters, at 
Oaklands, when my dear Isabella will be sure to 
meet with a most heartfelt welcome from all its inha- 
bitants, and from none more so than her affectionate 
aunt, 

LAUIIA MACKENZIE. 



CHAPTER VII. 

I WILL tell you what, you little lie-a-bed (said 
the captain, coming and laying his hand upon Julia's 
head), I would advise you to go to bed in good 
time to-night, that you may be able to rise a little 



91 

as you 

asked me to take you to Richmond, I have set my 
mind upon our having a jaunt there to-morrow. 

But, my dear uncle (returned Julia, turning, 
and looking up in the captain's face with a smile of 
playful remonstrance), it was quite inconsiderate of 
you to set your mind upon any thing, without giving 
us timely notice of it, to prevent our forming other 
engagements which might come in the way of your 
inclinations. 

Engagements ! what the plague have you to form 
engagements about? 

Oh, a hundred things ! And it so happens, that I 
have a very particular one for to-morrow; for Miss 
Courtley and I have promised the Miss Freelys to 
accompany them to an auction of fashionable milli- 
nery, where all the world is expected to be. 

Then there can be the less occasion for you 
amongst the number (answered the captain) ; and I 
do not intend to be put oft' in my plan of pleasure. 
So you must just make up your mind to excuse your- 
selves to the Miss Freeh's, who, by the by, I am 
not at all desirous of selecting for your acquaintance, 
for they are two giddy flaunting things, and will do 
you no good, I am t-ure. 

Hush ! (said Julia, putting her hand upon her 
uncle's lips;) do not say such naughty things, for I 
must not have my friends abused. 

Well ! send your excuses to them then, (answered 
he as soon as he could get his mouth t libei'ty so 
as to allow him to speak,; and I will say neither ill 
nor good of them. 

Oh ! I would not. excuse myself from attending 
the auction to-morrow for the world (cried Julia 
with great earnestness;, for [ expect it \\ill be the 



92 

most delightful thing that can be. Besides, there 
will be such a chance of getting some cheap bar- 
gains ! Would it not be shocking to have to give it 
up, Miss Courtley ? (added she, turning to that lady, 
confident of her aid and assistance.) 

The captain will never think of insisting upon it 
(answered Miss Courtley) ; for any day will do for 
Richmond, but we do not know wlien such a thing 
as this auction may happen again. 

Well then, Isabella, you must try to get your 
friend Mary Ann Hulme to accompany us, and we 
will go without them; for I suppose you are not en- 
gaged to the auction too? 

No (answered Isabella); I have no engagements 
of any kind to prevent me. But I think we should 
have only halt the pleasure, were we to go without 
the rest of our party. 

Oh ! they do not deserve to be considered for a 
moment (said the captain). 

Yes, but we do though (returned Julia, looking in 
her uncle's face with one of those arch expressions, 
with which she knew how to win him over whenever 
she chose). And you will consider us too, and be 
just as ready to take us to Richmond another day as 
you are at present. 

Indeed I shall not (answered he, endeavouring to 
look angry, but the next moment, forgetting his in- 
tention, he spoke with his usual good nature). You 
of course will attend this fashionable resort too, 
Isabella? (said he, turning to his eldest niece with as 
pleasant a tone and look, as though he had never 
been contradicted.) 

I do not know why I should go (answered Isa- 
bella), for T am not at all fond of a crowd, and I 
have no wish to purchase any thing. 



93 

Oh ! I would have you go (said her uncle, who htul 
always a pleasure in their being amused) ; the sight 
will be new to you. A fashionable auction is always 
a curious scene, for you will see a set of foolish, 
thoughtless, fine ladies squandering away their mo- 
ney, and ruining themselves with cheap bargains. 

But, as there may be a danger of my falling into 
the same error myself (said Isabella, laughing), it 
may be better, perhaps, for me to keep out of the 
way of temptation. 

I am not at all afraid of you (said the captain), 
I have too much confidence in your prudence; and 
you may, perhaps, have a little to spare, which may 
be useful to your sister here, who is not so plentifully 
supplied. 

I thank you (said Julia), but that safe calculating 
kind of prudence I have no relish for, I assure you. 
It is very dry hum-drum sort of work, and will only 
do for such tame mechanical beings as Isabella to 
practise. 

Whenever mine can be of any use to you, how- 
ever (answered Isabella with the most perfect 
sweetness and good temper), I hope you will always 
remember that it is at your service. 

The captain looked at Isabella, as she spoke, with 
an expression of pleasure and approbation, which he 
had seldom directed towards her ; and Julia, alarmed 
at the appearance^of her increasing favour, said, 
" My uncle forgot, I am sure, when he recommended 
Isabella as an adviser, that I could never be at a loss 
for one when Miss Courtley was with me." The cap- 
tain declared it was far from his intention to put any 
slight upon JNJiss Courtley in what he had said, and 
applauded Julia for remembering the respect due to 
her governess.- The matter was then dropped; by 



94- 

Julia's going to the instrument, and volunteering one 
of her uncle's favourite songs, which never failed to 
set all to rights again, and restore her to her wonted 
dominion. 

The following morning the Miss Freelys called, 
according to their appointment, and Isabella heing 
prevailed upon to accompany them, they all set off 
to the auction. Isabella, who possessed a quick ob- 
servation and great discernment, was much amused 
for a long time in watching the various countenances 
which surrounded her, and in marking the different 
motives which seemed to influence the bidders. She 
found the spirit of opposition, and the fear of being 
thought unable to give as much as another, to be the 
most powerful incentives, and often to lead to much 
dearer purchases than might have been procured in 
a regular way in the shops. But these appearances 
soon ceased to be amusing, when she saw them ope- 
rating in an alarming manner upon Julia, who bought 
one useless article after another, without thinking of 
the money she was thus foolishly throwing away, 
whilst Miss Courtley sat by perfectly unconcerned. 
At length, unable any longer to remain a silent spec- 
tator of her folly, Isabella ventured a remonstrance; 
but Julia, with a pert and saucy air, begged she 
would keep herself comfortable with the idea of her 
own money being quite safe. Finding, therefore, 
that she could be of no use to her sister, and was 
only subjecting herself to mortification in witnessing 
her imprudence, she begged Miss Courtley to allow 
the servant, who attended them, to accompany her 
to Mr. Hulme's, who did not live very far distant, 
where she would wait till they called for her ; which 
being agreed to, she took her leave of the auction, 
without any wish to pay it another visit. 



95 

On being asked by the captain, when he met them 
at dinner, how they had been amused, You must not 
ask Isabella (said Julia, laughing) ; for I believe she 
was in misery lest the money should be taken out of 
her pocket whether she would or not, and therefore 
very wisely decamped whilst she was sure it was safe. 

Was that the case, Isabella? (asked the captain.) 

No ! (answered Isabella,) I was under no concern 
about my own money ; I was only sorry to see it 
taken so freely out of Julia's purse, for things which 
I could not think would be of any value to her after- 
wards. 

I believe (said the captain) that an itch for cheap 
bargains is often the cause or purchasing dear ones, 
and I know no one more likely to commit that error 
than your sister there. But, as long as she does but 
keep out of debt, and makes matters meet at the 
quarter's end, I shall not trouble myself about the 
rest, but leave it to her own management. 

Then I hope (said Julia) that every body else will 
be equally kind in leaving me at liberty to spend my 
money as I like best myself, unless they see me un- 
willing to come forward when called upon to assist 
those who are in need. 

And that, I will answer for it, will never be, as 
long as you have a penny in your pocket (said her 
fond uncle, whilst Isabella not thinking it worth her 
while to make any reply to Julia's retort, the subject 
was dropped). 

The following morning Mary Ann Hulme, with 
whom Isabella had made an engagement the preced- 
ing day, arrived at the time appointed, and Julia, 
who had gone up-stairs just before she came in, soon 
after made her appearance, equipped ready for going 
out. 



96 

Are you going out so early this morning? (asked 
Isabella with a look of surprise, as her sister entered 
the room.) 

Yes (answered Julia) ; I only wait for Miss Court- 
ley's being ready to set off immediately. 

I am sorry we are not to have thy company (said 
Mary Ann), for thy sister and I are going to read a 
book together, and we hoped thou wouldst have 
joined us. 

You are very good, (answered Julia), and I dare 
say 1 should have liked it vastly, if I had had no other 
engagement, but I am going to attend the auction 
again, which is not half over yet. 

Are you going to the auction again? (said Isa- 
bella, with a look of concern ;) I am sorry you should 
think of a second visit. 

Be satisfied, my good sister, (answered Julia,) 
that we do not invite you again to accompany us. 

I had much rather go myself, much as I dislike it, 
than you should do so (answered Isabella). 

You are exceedingly kind (replied her volatile 
sister) ; but, as I had much rather go myself than 
that you shoald do so, I will not put you to so much 
pain. Is not this sister of mine very kind, (added 
she, turning to Mary Ann,) to be willing to put 
herself to mortification rather than I should have 
pleasure ? 

I am sure that is not her motive (said Mary Ann) ; 
on the contrary, I am so persuaded that she has a 
kind one for what she does, that I will take the li- 
berty of joining her, and of endeavouring to preva.l 
upon thee to give up thy intention. We have a 
book, which I am persuaded thou wo uldst have great 
pleasure in reading. It is Maria Edgeworths netr 
novel, for so I suppose we must be obliged to call 



97 

her stories, though they are so different from the ge- 
nerality of that class of publications. 

What ! a quaker read a novel ! (exclaimed Julia.) 
Oh ! then I have found out the reason of your being 
here so early this morning. You are come to read 
here what you would be afraid of your father seeing 
you read at home. 

No! (replied Mary Ann, with n look of dignity 
very unlike tht^ usual expression of her gentle coun- 
tenance.) Thou art mistaken if thou supposest that 
I am come here for the purpose of cheating my 
father. He is too good and reasonable to object to 
any innocent source of amusement ; and, as I have 
promised that I never will read a novel without his 
permission, he is too kind to make any unnecessary 
objections, and puts Maria Edgeworth's works into 
my hand without even the precaution of inspecting 
them ; convinced that I shall find nothing there 
inimical to the purest virtue. Let me advise thee, 
therefore, (added she, resuming her usual gentle- 
ness and sweetness of expression,) to stay and read 
this Patronage with us. It will serve thee to think of 
with pleasure, longer than the auction, I am certain. 

Oh. I have no doubt but it might. But I have set 
my mind upon going there to-day. As to Patron- 
age, I shall read it of course, because it will be 
fashionable, and it is necessary that one should be 
able to talk about it ; but skimming slightly over it 
will be sufficient for me> just to know the story, and 
understand what people are talking about. 

But it will heighten our pleasure much in reading, 
to have thee a sharer in it. 

And you will be able to enter with much more 
pleasure into the merits of the book if you read it 
regularly through (added Isabella). 



98 

All that may be very good (said Julia with un- 
hesitating perseverance), but I am fixed upon go- 
ing; and I hear Miss Courtley's voice upon the 
stairs, so good by, good by (added she, skipping 
out of the room before they had time to say another 
word). 

We must endeavour to amuse ourselves then, Isa- 
bella, as that lively sister of thine is determined to 
leave us (said Mary Ann, opening the book as she 
spoke, and beginning immediately to read, convinced 
that the less comment there was made upon Julia's 
behaviour the pleasanter it would be to the feelings 
of her friend). It was not long, however, before 
they were interrupted by the return of the servant 
who had accompanied Miss Courtley and Julia, bring- 
ing a note from the latter to Isabella ; who, on open- 
ing it, read the following lines, written with a pencil 
on the blank cover of a letter. 

MY DEAR ISABELLA, 

I (have just made a purchase, without know- 
ing at the time that I had not money enough with 
me to pay for it. I will thank you, therefore, to 
have the goodness to send me five pounds, which 
shall be repaid with thanks by your affectionate 
sister, JULIA, 

Though Isabella was in the habit of speaking with 
the greatest openness to her friend about every thing 
that concerned herself, she felt a delicacy in expos- 
ing the foibles of her sister, and therefore went out 
of the room to inclose the note in a paper, on which 
she wrote the following remonstrance : 

" Though the inclosed sum, or twice as much, 
should be at my dear Julia's service if it would be 



99 

of any real use to her, I cannot now even lend it 
without endeavouring to warn her once more against 
involving herself in difficulties for the gratification of 
mere imaginary wants. Let me therefore beg that 
she will refrain from any further purchases, which, 
however cheap, must prove dear when bought with 
money that is needed for other purposes." 

When Julia returned home, she displayed her bar- 
gains, and expatiated on their beauty and cheapness, 
but took no notice of the money which she had bor- 
rowed of Isabella, who, in spite of the meanness 
with which she was so often accused, had too much 
delicacy to remind her of it. 

Great, however, was her consternation, when she 
heard Miss Courtley and Julia talking of a third 
day's attendance upon the auction ; and, determined, 
if possible, to prevent it, she said, " You do not, I 
hope, think of going any more to this auction?" 

Oh ! one may as well do that as any thing else 
(answered Julia), for there is certainly a great deal 
of amusement to be had. 

But (said Isabella, who began to think that a di- 
rect remonstrance from her would have a contrary 
effect from that intended), I was in hopes you would 
have been at liberty for us to have had our jaunt to 
Richmond to-morrow ? 

I should like that quite as well, (said Julia, who 
now found her purse too low to allow her any more 
power of flourishing off at the auction by her liberal 
purchases,) but I cannot think of proposng it to my 
uncle, after having put him off so lately. 

I will undertake that part of the business (said 

Isabella, delighted to have hit upon any thing that 

would take her sister out of the way of temptation ; 

and the captain at that moment entered the room), 

K 2 



100 

<c You have just come in time, undo, to agree 
to a plan which we have been forming tor to-mor- 
row." 

What is it? (asked fear uncle.) 

That you should treat us with the promised excur- 
sion to Richmond - v sa!ci Isabella). 

Pshaw ! Nonsense ! (exclaimed the captain.) You 
know 

Oh! stop, my dear uncle (interrupted Isahelia), 
do not begin your sentence, I beg, with a pshaw!) 
for I always find, when you make such. a beginning, 
you never make a good rinishing. So now (added she 
in a sweetly-playful manner) we will forget that you 
said any thing at all, and I ask you again if you will 
not oblige me, and take us up to Richmond to-mor- 
row? It is the first time, I think, that I have ever 
asked you such a favour, and I am sure you will 
grant it. 

I must admit (returned the captain, delighted 
with Isabella's artless, unaffected vivacity,) that 
you deserve to be indulged, for you are always rea- 
dy to walk out, or play at back-gammon, with me ; 
or do any thing that I wish. . So I think I must not 
refuse you, and hope, at the same time, that the rest 
will look upon it as your treat. 

I knew you would do it (replied Isabella with a 
grateful smile) ; -and I am sure, v/hoever has the 
credit of the treat, it i* your kindness only that 
gives it. 

This girl has a heart very sensible of kindness 
(thought the captain, as he read in his niece's speak- 
ing eyes the expression of affection and gratitude 
with which they beamed). 

Mary Ann Hulme, at the captain's request, was of 
the party ; and she and Isabella were highly delighted 



101 

with the beautiful scenery which presented itself to 
their view as they stood on the top of Richmond 
Hill, whilst Mary Ann exclaimed, with her favourite 
Thomson, 

" Heavens ! what a goodly prospect spreads around, 
Of hills, and dales, and woods, and lawns, and spires, 
And glittering towns, and gilded streams, till all 
The stretching landscape into smoke decays ! 
Happy Britannia ! where the queen of arts, 
Inspiring vigour, liberty abroad 
Walks, unconfined, even to thy farthest cots, 
And scatters plenty with unsparing hand." 

To Julia, however, the day was fraught with much 
fewer pleasures. The excursion, of which she was 
partaking, she knew to have been entered upon pur- 
posely to oblige Isabella, and she had been so long 
accustomed to look upon her sister as a mere se- 
condary personage, that she could not bear the idea 
of owing any indulgence to her. She gave way, 
therefore, to peevishness and ill humour ; and nei- 
ther the captain's uniform good nature, nor Isabella's, 
or her friend's easy flow of cheerfulness, was able 
to inspire her with her usual spirits. She complained, 
however, of not being very well, and, under that 
cloak, gained full forgiveness from her indulgent un- 
cle, who was willing to attribute her peevishness to 
any cause rather than the real one. 

This has been Isabella's treat (said he as they 
placed themselves in the boat to return home) ; Julia 
must choose the next. What must it be, think you, 
my little girl? (added he, putting his arm round 
her waist, and trying to coax her into greater cheer- 
fulness.) 

It shall be a dance (replied Julia, recollecting 
K 3 



102 

that, by that choice, she should not only gratify 
a favourite amusement of her own, and one, too, in 
which she felt persuaded that she should put Isabella 
out of the power of competition, as dancing was an 
art in which she knew herself particularly to excel ; 
but she was sure it was of such a nature as to ex- 
clude Mary Ann from being a partaker, to whom 
she felt herself every day acquiring a strengthened 
dislike: for she could not help giving her credit for 
merits, to which she was conscious she had he/self no 
pretensions. 

A dance it shall be then (replied the captain) ; and 
you shall have it as soon as Frederick and Douglas 
-arrive. It was then fixed for that day month, the 
evening of the day on which the young students were 
expected ; and the rest of the way was occupied in 
laying plans, and settling who should and who should 
not be invited, which insensibly drew Julia into her 
usual flow of spirits. Nor did Mary Ann and Isabella 
enter with less sprightliness into the conversation ; 
for the former, a stranger to any thing like envy, 
ever felt the amusements and pleasures of her friends 
as her own. Though the particular one which they 
were at that time planning was such as she was not 
herself personally in the habit of joining, her good 
8er.se convinced her, that, whilst kept under the re- 
gulation of prudence and moderation, it was, in it- 
self, an innocent diversion, and she joined, therefori.', 
with great spirit, in assisting with her excellent taste 
in the arrangements and plans for the occasion. 

I think (said Julia), if, instead of drawing num- 
bers for the partners of the first dance, we were to 
have the names of the principal characters of well- 
known plays, it would make an amusing variety ; for 



103 

it might, perhaps, lead some, who had spirit for it, 
to endeavour to support their characters for the rest 
of the evening. 

So it would (said the captain, who was always 
ready to enter into any innocent gaiety) ; I like that 
thought exceedingly, and already fancy I see 
Douglas playing off the part of some lively hero. 

I am afraid, Mary Ann, (said Isabella,) you are 
not sufficiently acquainted with plays to be able to 
assist us ; or else, instead of the mere names, if you 
were to furnish us with a verse for each, which should 
introduce the names of both the hero and his part- 
ner, with a slight sketch of their characters, it would 
add still more entertainment to the business. 

I have not certainly much acquaintance with them 
at present ; but, if thou or thy sister will give me 
some little insight into the characters, I will do my 
best to copy them (said Mary Ann with obliging 
readiness) . 

I declare that will be quite delightful (cried Julip) ; 
and immediately she set on, with great animation, to 
give Mary Ann an idea of them, which she managed 
so well, and Mary Ann showed so much quickness in 
entering into her illustrations, that she soon found 
herself possessed of a sufficiently clear insight into 
her work, to enable her to- write the little sketches, 
which she did with unostentatious readiness, on a 
blank paper, produced from the captain's pocket- 
book, to the surprise even of Isabella, though pre- 
viously well acquainted with the talents of her friend. 
The captain, whose " easy presence checked no so- 
ber mirth," watched their proceedings wirh great 
warmth, and gave a warm tribute to the abilities of 
the obliging May Ann. Upon my word, Miss i inline 
(said he), you have grcut merit, in taking so much 



104 

trouble about an amusement in which you are not 
able to partake. 

Thou shouldst not say that I cannot partake of it, for 
I am rather before-hand with you ail, and am already 
enjoying a considerable share (replied Mary Ann). 

I had no idea a quaker could possess so much live- 
liness of imagination, and pliancy of mind (said the 
captain with his usual abruptness) ; I always sup- 
posed their ideas were as formal as their dress. 

Had you been as much amongst them as I have 
been, (returned Isabella, with a glow of generous 
and grateful warmth at the testimony which she felt 
herself called upon to give towards a favourite set of 
friends,) you would have had a very different opinion. 
For, their habits being less dissipated, and conse- 
quently depending more on the social enjoyments of 
home than the generality of other people, they of 
course make a point of cultivating those talents and 
dispositions which are best calculated to make so- 
ciety pleasant ; and I have often heard my aunt say, 
that she scarcely ever saw the art of living com- 
fortably so well understood by any set of people as 
by them. 

Quakers (answered Mary Ann, her expressive 
countenance speaking her thanks to her friend for 
her gratifying approbation,) are just like other peo- 
ple. Their passions and inclinations are the same; 
and, like all others, they depend upon the educa- 
tion they receive for what their characters shall be- 
come. The sincere and rational class of them, I be- 
lieve, possess as much true enjoyment as falls to 
the lot of most mortals. Their sentiments, however, 
like those of all other sects of people, are liable to 
injury by the over-zealous part of their followers, 
who are too apt, by their rigidity of manners, to 



105 

'throw a decree of ridicule over the whole, which it 
does not, in general, deserve. 

I believe it (said the captain) ; for you have con- 
vinced me, that the quakers may be plain and simple, 
without being stiff or contracted. And there is one 
thing that I always admired in them ; that is, their 
readiness to come forward as the friends of any cha- 
ritable undertaking ; for I have always found them 
more active and liberal, on such occasions, than any 
other set of people whatever ; and have often won- 
dered, that many, whom we could not suppose to be 
very wealthy, could manage to have so much money 
to spare. 

That, I apprehend, (returned Mary Ann,) thou 
wilt find to be owing to their wants being fewer than 
those of others of their own standing in life. Their 
dress and style of living are less expensive, which, 
of course, enables them to spare more for others. 
But I wish (added she, smiling,) thy nieces may not 
begin to fear that 1 have a notion of converting thee, 
and, by that means, deprive them of their expected 
entertainment. 

The conversation then turned to other subjects: on 
all of which the modest quaker, who had required 
some time before she could break out in the presence 
of strangers, and had therefore never before displayed 
herself somuch in the presenceof the captain, express- 
ed herself with such taste, propriety, and judgement, 
on every topic upon which they conversed, that the 
captain declared himself So warmly heradmirer, that, 
whilst Isabella's bosom glowed with affectionate de- 
light at the praises of her friend, Julia felt less than 
ever disposed to be pleased with one whose habits and 
manners were in such direct opposition to her own. 



106 

The intervening weeks passed on without any par- 
ticular incident occurring, excepting the period of 
Isabella's acting as house- keeper being expired. She 
laid her accounts before her uncle ; which, to Ju- 
lia's surprise, were all made out with the most per- 
fect neatness and exactness. And she was proved 
to be a gainer often pounds, by her saving out of 
her allowance : at which her kind uncle expressed 
great satisfaction and pleasure. If Julia comes any 
way near your mark (said he), I think I shall pos- 
sess two as good house-keepers as any body in town 
can boast of. 

Alas ! I fear I shall fall sadly short (said Julia, 
as Isabella left the room with her papers, and 
shrugging her shoulders, as she spoke, with an 
expression which bordered on contempt) ; for I 
have none of Isabella's sober mechanical qualifica- 
tions. 

It will be worth while, however, to endeavour to 
acquire them (returned her uncle, whose esteem for 
his elder niece rose very rapidly as he became more 
acquainted with her character) ; for I do not see, 
that, though they make her more useful, she is at all 
less pleasant for them. 

They suit Isabella's taste well enough ; but they 
would not do for mine (said Julia). Contemplat- 
ing her virtues is like looking upon a still piece of 
water we are pleased with it at the first glance, but 
begin to wish for a little motion in it, lest its waters 
should become stagnant. But, by way of keeping 
you awake, my dear uncle, (added Julia with her 
usually playful manner, when she wished to please 
him, and regain any ground that she thought she 
had lost,) I think I must still play off a few follies 



107 

and weaknesses, content with the persuasion that 
you will 

Be to my faults a little blind, 

And to ray virtues ever kind. 

And she sung these well known words of one of his 
old songs, in a voice which never failed to make its 
way to her uncle's heart. 

A few follies and weaknesses, I hope, I shall al- 
ways be able to make every allowance for (said he 
gentlyj, provided you keep clear of great impru- 
dences or vices. Keep out of debt, and be just to 
every one, and you will always find a friend in me. 

On receiving their quarter's allowance, which the 
captain paid them at the same time that he installed 
his new house-keeper in her office, Julia said, (when 
he left the room for a few minutes, and as she put 
up the money she had just received,) " As you are 
so rich, Isabella, it will not be of any consequence 
to you, if I do not pay you the five pounds which I 
owe you, at present, and it will suit me better not 
to do so." 

I should have mentioned it before (answered Isa- 
bella), but I did not wish to remind you of it, being 
desirous that you should keep it altogether ; I am 
so rich, as you observe, that it is probable I shall not 
have occasion for it ; you, on the contrary, may 
find it useful. 

Julia replied, with an air of carelessness, And for 
as much more as you have to spare. For my allow- 
ance will have no chance, I am sure, of keeping 
me through the year ; and I have no hope of making 
a profitable merchandize by my housekeeping, as 
you have done. 

But ought you not, my dear Julia (said Isabella 



108 

with earnestness,) to take care that it does go 
through the time allotted, for, by not doing so, 
you only involve yourself in difficulties; and you 
know my uncle always says, that nothing could dis- 
please him so much as our contracting debts. 

Oh ! I have no fear of that (answered Julia) ; for 
Lady Ann has promised to assist me when I fall 
short: so that I have nothing to do but to write, 
and tell her how much I want, as soon as my money 
is nearly gone. 

Lady Ann has not shown herself your friend by 
such a promise, I am afraid (returned Isabella) ; 
for these sort of dependencies generally do a great 
deal of harm ; they often fail when most required ; 
and if, even for a while, they continue to assist us, 
there must be a time when they will cease, and 
then strengthened habit only makes it more difficult 
to do without them. Let me urge you, then, my 
dear sister, (added she with increased earnestness, 
and with a look of the most affectionate solicitude,) 
to depend upon yourself only; and to confine your 
expenses to what you know to be your certain 
means of defraying them. 

I hope (said Julia, stretching herself and yawning 
in Isabella's face,) your sermon is finished, for I am 
almost asleep: and hearing a knock at that mo- 
ment at the street-door, Thank goodness, (said 
she, running to the window,) here are the Miss 
Freelys coming to rouse us from our lethargy. 

These ladies came to invite Julia to accompany 
them to their milliner's, to give her opinion about some 
i.^vv dresses which they were getting made; and the 
invitation being readily accepted, Miss Courtley was 
requested to attend them : then, without even hav- 



109 

ing the civility to ask Isabella to be of the party, they 
set out immediately. 

What ! left alone, Isabella (said the captain, re- 
turning to the room soon after the others had quit- 
ted it). How does it happen that you have not 
joined the rest? 

Because (answered Isabella, who was too kind to 
her sisier to make any complaint that could lessen, 
her in his esteem,) I preferred walking towards the 
country rather than the town, and was in hopes you 
would invite me to walk with you. 

That I will, with all my heart (returned the cap- 
tain) ; so, go and get yourself ready, and I will give 
you an opportunity of stretching your legs, and 
breathing the fresh air. She was soon ready, and, 
delighted to join her kind and indulgent uncle, to 
whom she grew every day more and more attached, 
in his favourite exercise, she gave full play to the vi- 
vacity of her mind ; and they were soon engaged in 
a conversation amusing to the one and instructive to 
the other. For the captain, though not a man of 
much reading, and though his mind was contracted 
by a few early prejudices, possessed, nevertheless, 
a good understanding, and, having been much in fo- 
reign countries, and consequently seen a great deal 
of life and manners, was master of much general in- 
formation, which he was as ready to communicate as 
his companion was to hear. 



110 



CHAPTER VIII. 

AT length the day for the arrival of the young 
collegians appeared, and they were received with 
great kindness by all the family, but by Isabella 
in particular, whose speaking eyes confirmed the 
affectionate welcome which her tongue expressed. 
If the years which the captain had been absent 
had made so much alteration in the appearance of 
his nieces, he found that they had not been less ac- 
tive in their effects on his nephews, whom he no 
sooner looked upon, than he was relieved from all 
apprehensions lest their home education should 
have made them effeminate or spiritless. They were 
genteel without affectation, gay without levity, and 
sensible and intelligent without stiffness or pedantry. 
Even Julia could not but acknowledge, though she 
did so with surprise, that they were two most 
fashionable and pleasing young men, and she was 
seized with an unaccountable ambition to gain their 
good opinion. Nor were the two brothers at all 
niggardly in the admiration which they bestowed in 
return, though they differed a little in their opinion 
of which of the sisters was the handsomer. Frede- 
rick gave the preference to Isabella's face, and 
Douglas was inclined to think that Julia bore the 
palm : but they both agreed, that for beauty of per- 
son, elegance of manners, and sprightliness of con- 
versation, there were few such girls to be met with. 
Julia, however, had been so long accustomed to 
hear of Frederick's great attainments as a scholar, 



Ill 

that she found it impossible to divest her mind, in 
spite of the evidences of her senses, of his being a 
pedant. Consequently, she entered the ball room, 
in the evening, with a strong persuasion that his 
manner of acquitting himself there, would be likely 
to afford her great amusement ; and dttermined to be 
upon the watch, that none of his little absent or awk- 
ward tricks should escape her notice. As soon as the 
tickets were drawn, Douglas came to her, and saying, 
As he understood she had determined to let her name 
serve instead of a ticket, and that she waited to see 
what kind of a Romeo Chance would giva her, he 
had the pleasure of declaring, that fortune had kindly 
selected him, and that for once in her life she saw a 
happy Romeo. May I beg the favour of your hand 
for the next two dances (said Frederick, coming to 
her almost at the same instant ;) for, though I- am 
Don Carlos, I have got an Angelica in your sister so 
much to my mind, that I am sure I shall be quite re- 
formed before I am your partner. 

Oh ! the most fortunate chance that ever wan ! 
(exclaimed Julia ;) you could not have drawn a 
more suitable character, and I declare I am in- 
clined to sit out. for the sake of seeing the learned 
student cut his capers, which he will no doubt do 
with mathematical precision. Or I should not won- 
der if you were to fancy that you are exhibiting in 
the ancient Gymnasium, instead of a modern ball- 
room. 

Then you will certainly be very well out of my 
way (answered Frederick, laughing), lest I should 
begin to show off some of my feats as a wrestler ; 
when you might not, perhaps, find me a very plea- 
sant neighbour. 

1 reallv think I cannot find in my heart to dance, 
L 2 



112 

(said Julia, as Douglas offered to take her hand to 
lead her to her place in the set, which was now be- 
ginning to be formed,) lest I should lose the amuse- 
ment of watching your brother. 

I would advise you, however, (said Frederick,) to 
be moderate in your mirth, for remember the fate of 
Alcethoe. 

Oh ! (answered Julia) I have been so long accus- 
tomed to the fashionable world, where people are al- 
ways most alive after sun-set, that I believe I should 
make an excellent bat. 

Particularly a vampire one (said Douglas, smil- 
ing) ; for I never saw any one more likely to steal 
away a person's life, whilst you only appeared to be 
playing with him. 

That is so gallant a speech, that I can no longer 
refuse to dance (said Julia, giving him her hand, 
and allowing him to lead her forward). Julia's expec- 
tations of amusement at Frederick's dancing, led 
her to keep her eyes almost constantly upon him, 
anxious to see how both he and his partner exhibit- 
ed. But infinite was her astonishment when she saw 
their performance ; the easy grace of their move- 
ments, and the animation and spirit with which they 
pursued the mazes of the dance, without seeming 
to consider whether any one observed them or not, 
as they danced only for amusement. Surprised and 
mortified, beyond expression, at the tribute which 
she felt herself unable to withhold, her vivacity 
soon entirely forsook her, by hearing the repeated 
exclamations of, " How beautifully Miss Frankland 
dances ! What a graceful couple she and Mr. Fre- 
derick Mackenzie make !" Dancing was the accom- 
plishment on which she particularly prided herself: 
and to meet thus with a rival in a sister, whose edu- 



113 

cation she had always been led to despise, wn.s a 
shock which she had not at all expected, and the 
surprise only served to make the evil greater, for she 
had never before danced so ill herself' I am quite 
astonished to see how beautifully Isabella dances (said 
the captain 10 Miss Courtley, who stood near enough 
to Julia for her to overhear what was sdid). 

She dances very tolerably, certainly (answered 
that lady); but hers is far short of her sister's 
fashionable manner. 

I must confess (returned the captain) that I like 
Isabella's style much the best. Julia has more of the 
foreign air, it is true; but there are few people, I 
think, who would not prefer the easy simple elegance 
of Isabella's appearance. I declare I never saw her 
look so handsome in my life, though she seems quite 
unconscious that she is likely to be admired. This 
was a bitter pill for Julia to swallow : she who was 
so unaccustomed to a rival, to find it in her simple, 
unfashionable sister. The thought rankled in her 
mind like a poisoned arrow; and, as soon as the 
dance was done, she sat down, complaining of fa- 
tigue, though, in reality, only out of humour at what 
she was ashamed to acknowledge. 

Frederick tells me, that you expected great amuse- 
ment from watching hfs performance (said Isabella, 
coining up to her soon after) : I hop<i you have not 
been disappointed. Do you not think he dances like 
one who has never studied any thing but mathemati- 
cal recreations? 

Oh ! both of you dance far too well to afford any 
amusement in quizzing you (answered Julia, endea- 
vouring to speak with the cheerfulness which she did 
not feel ) ; and I am sadly disappointed at being obli- 
ged to admire, uistead of to laugh. 
L 3 



;.' 1 

114 

Julia never in her life spoke with greater sincerity 
than in saying these words ; but the two young men, 
putting a very different construction on her words, 
were delighted with her readiness to acknowledge 
her sister's excellencies, and never before admired 
her so much. Her quick observation soon discovered 
the nature of their sentiments ; and she was restored, 
by their interpretation of them, to better humour, 
and went through the next dance with more spi- 
rit and animation. But, alas ! those who feel a 
jealousy of the merits of others, are subject to con- 
tinual mortifications ; and it was not long before Ju- 
lia's tranquillity was again disturbed. Frederick and 
a young gentleman standing at no great distance 
from a group of ladies, of whom Julia and Isabella 
formed a part, and their conversation happening to 
turn upon music, of which Frederick was known 
both to be a scientific performer and a judge ; the 
gentleman mentioned a very fine piece, which, he 
said, Miss Julia Frankland played better than any 
one whom he had ever heard. 

Did you ever hear her sister play? (asked Frede- 
rick.) 

No (answered the gentleman) ; but I do not ap- 
prehend that Miss Frankland's performance will bear 
to be put in competition with her sister's. 

I have no doubt of the abilities of the one (said 
Frederick); but I think I dare venture to say, that 
those of the other are at least fully equal. I can an- 
swer for this, that I never heard any one touch the 
keys with such exquisite taste as Miss Frankland. 

The gentleman appeared incredulous; and it was 
at length agreed, by the two, that the sisters should 
be asked to play, without the dispute being known, 
that a fair judgement might be formed of the merits 



115 

of each. A glance, which Julia gave at her sister 
at the conclusion of this conversation, convinced Isa- 
bella that she herself was not the only one who had 
heard the dispute, and the consequent agreement ; 
and Julia saw equally well, by the modest tinge of 
Isabella's countenance, that she was acquainted with 
it. It was not long before music was proposed, du- 
ring one of the pauses in dancing ; and, after two or 
three others had been invited to lend their aid for 
the general amusement, Frederick's opponent came 
forward, and requested Julia to favour them with the 
piece which he had so often been delighted with her 
performing. Had she not heard the previous con- 
versation, she would have sat down to the instrument 
with the fullest confidence in her own powers ; but 
Frederick's decided testimony in her sister's favour 
convinced her that she might expect an equal pro- 
ficient at least and, to one who had been accus- 
tomed to full and undivided admiration, the idea of 
equality was intolerable. Besides, she was conscious 
that Isabella was aware of the competition ; and, 
though sensible that, whatever might be the opinions 
of the young men, they would not be expressed 
otherwise than in terms of high approbation of both, 
yet the idea that Isabella might read in the gentle- 
man's countenance his conviction that Frederick was 
right, was misery to her. -To refuse, however, was 
impossible, as it would be an acknowledgement that 
she had overheard the conversation : she therefore 
allowed herself to be led to the instrument; and, as 
she had no feelings of diffidence to contend with, she 
exerted herself to the utmost of her power, and 
threw her fingers over the keys with skill and execu- 
tion, which astonished all around her. Every body 
was ready,- when she had finished, to applaud and ad- 



116 

mire, and she saw her advocate give a look at Fre- 
derick, as if to say, Did he not yield? Frederick's 
countenance, however, showed no inclination to do 
so. It was now Isabella's turn. I am glad I played 
first (said Julia) ; for I should have been sadly afraid 
to follow Isabella. Isabella saw in her countenance, 
though she managed to prevent its being visible to 
the less acute observers, the anxiety and jealousy 
which beat in her bosom, without, however, attempt- 
ing to decline the compliment with, which Julia had 
prefaced her sister's performance, with the idea that, 
where the expectations are much excited, disappoint- 
ment is almost sure to succeed ; she went to the in- 
strument, and, seating herself, without a moment's 
hesitation struck up the air of a comic song, which 
she accompanied with her voice with great spirit and 
vivacity. Every one's attention was seized excla- 
mations of, " Oh! how charming! What delightful 
humour!" resounded on all sides; whilst those who 
considered a fine piece of music a *ad bore, and be- 
grudged the praises which they thought thc-msdves 
obliged to pay, broke into natural and unequivocal 
bursts of laughter and pleasure. Even Julia, when 
she saw all competition avoided, joined with readi- 
ness in the general applause ; and, conscious of the 
delicacy which had directed her siter"s conduct, she 
could not withhold from bestowing that, admiration on 
her heart, which she had been afraid of being obliged 
to grant to her skill. That applause, however, though 
she saw it the tribute of all around her, Julia could 
not see bestowed without experiencing jealousy ; for, 
though it was the kind of all others that her sister 
most prized, it was such as she had never been ac- 
customed to make the object of her ambition. As 
her skill and execution, therefore, had not been 



117 

brought into question, Julia was again restored to 
good humour; and the rest of the evening went oft" 
wilh perfect satisfaction to all parties. 



CHAPTER IX. 

THE following morning, the young gentlemen 
having expressed a wish to show their respect for the 
modest and amiable Mary Ann, by taking the ear- 
liest opportunity of calling upon her, the captain 
proposed that they should set off in a party, for that 
purpose, immediately after breakfast, which was 
readily acceded to by Isabella ; but Miss Courtley 
and Julia pleaded another engagement, though, in 
fact, it was only to avoid evincing respect to one they 
disliked for her superiority, and they considered that 
the young gentlemen gave no proof of taste by thus 
noticing her. The captain was not at all satisfied at 
their declining; for (said he) I have no notion of 
friends having different pursuits and pleasures when 
there is nothing to prevent their going hand in hand. 
Miss Courtley, however, declared that it could not 
be avoided, and, as he made a point of setting his 
nieces an example of paying the utmost respect to 
her decisions, by yielding implicitly to them himself, 
he made no further objections ; but desired Isabella to 
go and prepare for accompanying her cousins and 
himself to her friend's. This request was joyfully 
complied with, and Isabella very soon entered the 
room quite ready to set off. 

My dear Isabella, (said Julia, when her sister 



118 

made her appearance equipped in her walking- 
dress,) I hope you intend to have mercy on our good 
cousins, and not annoy them with the sight of that 
self-same dress all the days of their sojourning here, 
as you have done us for the last two months, for I 
am sure they will be most dreadfully tired of looking 
at it. 

Perhaps we should (said Douglas) if we had only 
the dress itself to look at ; but, whilst it has so pleas- 
ing an accompaniment, 1 do not think we should 
deserve much pity. 

Nay, now I shall be quite provoked, (answered 
Julia,) if you say any thing to encourage her in her 
plan of wearing her clothes till even the house- maid 
would not thank her for them ; for I was in hopes 
you would have assisted me in getting this dress 
discarded, which I am sure has done its duty com- 
pletely. 

There is no need of any persuasion (said Isabella 
good-temperedly) ; for 1 had already determined, 
before you spoke, to beg you to accompany me to 
the milliner's to-morrow morning, and assist me with 
your taste in the choice of a new one. 

Oil ! I am sure I am thankful to hear of that reso- 
lution (said Julia with an air of pretended gravity) ; 
for I am weary of your being the same, yesterday, 
to-day, and to-morrow. 

I should rather have thought (said Frederick, 
looking with kind admiration at Isabella for her 
good-tempered forbearance.) that you would have 
been inclined to say, as Brutus did of his mistress, if 
you had even had as long a trial 

For five long years each day she met my view, 
And every day I seem'd to sec her new*. 



119 

A 1 summons from the captain now hurried off the 
party, and Julia was left with a strong wish to per- 
suade herself that her cousins were a tame, spirit- 
less, tasteless sort of beings, whose good opinion 
was not worth possessing, though the anxiety she 
felt to appear to advantage before them was the 
strongest proof to the contrary. 

On the return of the walkers, they found Julia en- 
gaged with her constant companions, the Mi^s 
Freelys. and the rest of the day was passed as 
pleasantly as people of opposite tastes and pursuits 
usually spend it, when condemned to be together. 

Isabella felt frequent and deep concern at the 
great intimacy between her sister and those young 
ladies, whose frivolous manners and uninformed 
minds made them very undesirable associates ; nor 
would they, she was sure, ever have gained so much 
favour with Julia, who was infinitely their superior 
in abilities and information, had it not been that they 
flattered her vanity, and encouraged her favourite 
propensities. The intimacy, however, received Miss 
Courtley's sanction ; and therefore it was hopeless 
to think of dissolving the union. 

As soon as breakfast was finished, the next morn- 
ing, Isabella begged Julia to fulfill her promise of 
going to .the milliner's, as she wished to be home 
again by the time of Mary Ann Hulme's arrival, 
whom her uncle had engaged to spend the day with 
them, and they hastened up stairs to prepare for 
that purpose. Isabella, however, had scarcely got 
into her own room, before Julia followed her, to beg 
she would lend her five pounds for a few hours, as 
Liddle the housekeeper had come to her for some 
money, and she had no small notes by her at pre- 



120 

sent. Isabella gave the money, but immediately be- 
gan to hesitate about the propriety of ordering the 
pelisse and bonnet as she had intended; for she 
could not help feeling a strong suspicion, that asking 
for the loan was, with Julia, only an easy way of 
demanding a gift, as she had several times before ap- 
plied to her for smaller sums, without noticing the 
debt afterwards. 

When Isabella resigned her office of house keeper, 
she had five pounds of the money saved, whilst in 
that situation, and two, remaining from her own al- 
lowance, which, in addition to the fifteen she at that 
time received from her uncle, made her mistress of 
twenty-two. Out of that she had already spent 
three pounds, and this sum, with the second five 
she had just given to Julia, left her in possession of 
only fourteen : if the dress she was about to order 
should be expensive, she feared being straitened 
the remainder of the quarter, of which not six weeks 
were yet elapsed. She was engaged in these cal- 
culations, when her sister re-entered the room, and 
expressed surprise at her not being ready. You 
were in such a hurry, (said Julia,) that Miss Court- 
ley and I have been bustling ourselves to prepare 
for accompanying you, and now here you are stand- 
ing in a brown study, as if you had never thought of 
going out. 

Miss Courtley and you are both very good to take 
so much trouble to oblige me, (answered Isabella,) 
but I have half changed my mind, and think I must 
take a little more time before I enter upon the ex- 
pedition that I had in contemplation ; for (added she, 
smiling) it is a momentous thing, you know, for me 
to part with so much money. 



121 

I suppose (said Julia) you are afraid that the 
money which you have just lent me will not be 
repaid, but you may keep yourself easy on that 
score, for it is not because I was out of cash, that 
I borrowed of you ; I had nothing but fifty-pound 
notes, which I could not get changed immediately : 
however, I shall send James to the banker's, as 
soon as I return, for change of one, and repay all 
that I owe you. This was sufficient to remove Isa- 
bella's scruples; and, unwilling that Julia should 
think she had suspected her, she begged she would 
not put herself to any trouble about repaying her, 
as any time, within a week or two, would do for 
her: she had only been afraid that it might put 
her to inconvenience to give it back as soon as she 
might stand in need of it. They then set off to the 
milliner's, where Isabella was assailed with a variety 
of temptations, and assured by Julia, as she showed 
her a number of fashionable articles, that they were 
absolutely necessary. Isabella, however, steadily 
withstood them all ; and positively refused to give 
any further orders than those which brought her 
thither. Whilst they were thus engaged, the Miss 
Ireelys entered the shop. Oh ! I am glad you are here 
(cried the eldest of them on seeing Julia, and imme- 
diately ran back to the shop door, and returned with 
a paper in her hand). A poor woman has just been 
presenting this petition to us (said she, offering a pa- 
per to Julia). We each of us gave her what we could 
afford ; and I was just regretting that you were not 
here for the poor woman's sake, for I know you 
would have a pleasure in relieving her, and could do 
it much more effectually than we are able to do. Julia 
took the paper; but, before she had time to read it, 



122 

the woman came forward and told her case, which 
she made out to be a very deplorable one. 

Isabella, after making some farther inquiries, 
took out her purse, and was about to give half a 
crown, at the same time requiring a particular direc- 
tion where to find her house, that she might satisfy 
herself of the truth of her story previously to further 
relief; but she had not accomplished her intentions, 
vhen Julia taking a guinea out of her purse, for her 
donation, Isabella, in an under voice, advised her not 
to give so much before she had made inquiries 
into the truth of the account which the woman had 
given of herself. 

That mode of proceeding may do well enough for 
those who wish for an excuse for keeping their mo- 
ney (replied Julia in a voice sufficiently loud for 
all who were in the shop to hear) ; but I feel too 
much pleasure in giving, to wish for any apology, 
I beg you wi.l not therefore attempt to make your 
feelings the rule for mine. 

I only wish you to be convinced of the truth of 
the statement (remonstrated Isabella) before you 
give so large a sum of money. To give so liberally to 
unworthy objects is only to encourage imposture, and 
cheat the more deserving of the assistance which is 
their due. 

And, whilst we are satisfying ourselves, the poor 
family are to be left to starve (retorted Julia). 

No! (answered Isabella;) I would give as much 
as would prevent their enduring any additional hard- 
ship till I could visit them, which there is nothing 
to prevent our doing immediately, for the woman 
has described herself as living very near our own 
residence ; and then, should her account prove true, 



128 

\ve should have a better idea, on seeing the family 
all together, in what manner to serve them most ef- 
fectually. 

All this is very well (said Julia in a sneering 
tone) for those who wish to do good at as little ex- 
pense as possible, or, in other words, to go to 
heaven without paying the price of the journey ; 
but, for my part, I have no relish for such economy, 
and must therefore be allowed to give my money in 
my own way. And, as she spoke, she gave the 
woman the guinea, who blessed her and called her 
an angel, and the iMiss Freelys and Miss Courtley 
praised her generosity, though the latter forbore to 
offer any thing herself; and Isabella, as the woman 
had received more than was immediately needed 
for the necessities of her family, and meaning to 
seek into the merits of the case immediately, re- 
turned the half-crown into her purse, in spite of the 
looks of contempt which she saw exchanged between 
her sister and her companions, determined they 
should not frighten her into doing what her own judge- 
ment did not sanction. 

Oh ! look here ! (exclaimed Miss Caroline Freely, 
who had strayed to the other side of the shop during 
the short dispute between the two sisters, and was 
looking at some pieces of foreign silk, which a wo- 
man had just brought in to offer for sale :) come and 
look at this beautiful silk, I never saw any thing so 
pretty and so cheap in my life. The rest of the party 
all flocked immediately to her, and all agreed in ad- 
miring its beauty. 

But you do not know how cheap it is (said Miss 
Caroline) ; only think, she asks no more than four 
guineas for each of those pieces, and they are either 
of them enough to make two dresses. 
M 2 



They are cheap indeed (answered Julia). You 
and I must certainly take one between us, Isabella. 

No! (said Isabella,) I have not the least occasion 
for any thing of the kind ; nor do I think it is at all 
more necessary to you. 

You certainly would not think of missing such a 
bargain (cried Julia, in a tone of astonishment). To 
think of an elegant dress for two guineas ! It would 
certainly be madness to lose it. 

You know, (answered Isabella gently but firmly,) 
I never think any thing cheap for which I have no 
need, and that would put me to an inconvenience to 
purchase. 

I am sure (said Miss Freely) I am sorry to let 
such a bargain slip through my fingers, for it is what 
both my sister and I wanted of all things, but only 
we have both spent all our money, -andshall not have 
any more due to us for almost a month. 

You must give me leave, then, (said Julia with a 
gracefulness of manner becoming a more praise- 
worthy occasion,) to present you with one of them. 
Provided (added she, turning to the woman,) you 
will trust me till the evening, and will come to me for 
the money at home ? I will then take both the pieces 
of silk ; and Miss Courtley, I hope, will do me the 
favour to accept of a gown off the other. 

The woman, satisfied that there was not much 
reason to fear a discovery of her unlawful merchan- 
dize, as Julia had thus, by the purchase, become 
herself a partner in it, agreed to call in the evening 
at Captain Darnley's ; only cautioning Julia not to 
mention what sort of goods she had purchased in 
the presence of the servants, or any other person 
in whom she had not full confidence. They now 
returned home; and Isabella, oppressed with extreme 



anxiety at the display of imprudence which she had 
witnessed, and the fear of the difficulties into which 
Julia was plunging, would gladly have endeavoured 
to draw her into some reflections upon the proceed- 
ings of the morning. But Julia hated to think, par- 
ticularly when thought was only to cause self- con- 
demnation ; and therefore checked Isabella's efforts, 
by begging that she would be satisfied with managing 
her^own concerns, which she had no doubt she did 
with the nicest economy, and leave her to take care 
of herself. When they got to the door, Isabella 
mentioned her wish to inquire after the poor woman, 
whom Julia had ceased to think of from the time 
she had given the money; and Miss Courtley made 
no other objection, than saying that she was too 
much tired to accompany her, and begged that she 
would take James instead : this Isabella was very 
willing to do, and was jtist turning from the door, 
accompanied by the servant, when she met Mary 
Ann Hulrne; and her friend no sooner heard the 
nature of the intended expedition, than she offered 
to join her. " I think I will go too" (said Jul'a, 
who was seized with a desire to see how the quaker 
would behave when called upon for charity). They 
all three set off, therefore ; and, as the place men- 
tioned by the woman was not at any great distance, 
they soon arrived there; and, from tlte beggar's par- 
ticular description of her dwelling, they had no 
difficulty in finding the very room in which she said 
she lived. On inquiring, however, for a person of 
the name mentioned, (which Isabella, determined 
not to trust to her memory, had written dowft on a 
card, with the number of the house and room,) no 
such person was known ; and, convinced that the 
M 3 



125 

woman had been an impostor, of which Isabella, from 
her manner, had before entertained strong suspicions, 
they were turning to go down stairs again, when a 
shriek of distress met their ears, as if from a room 
on the landing below. " What is that ? : ' (cried Isa- 
bella with a look of horror.) 

I am afraid it is the sergeants come to seize upon 
a poor man who lives in the room under mine, said 
the woman (of whom they had before been making 
their inquiries), and he is so ill, that, if they take 
him to jail, it must be his death. It was his poor 
wife who gave that shriek ; for I dare say, poor 
woman, it will break her heart to have him taken 
from her. She has worked as hard as her strength 
would allow her, to keep him and her two poor 
little helpless children. She makes artificial flowers, 
and has business enough ; but, alas ! the ladies who 
employ her are not like you, young ladies, they do 
not think of the sufferings of the poor ; and, when, 
she has done her work, she very often cannot get her 
money from them. There is one lady who owes 
her three pounds at this very moment, to my know- 
ledge, which, if she could have got, would have 
gone a great way towards saving her poor husband 
from jail. Julia's complexion, whilst the woman 
was speaking, underwent a variety of changes from 
red to pale, and from pale to red. Isabella, charmed 
with the sensibility thus evinced by her sister, at- 
tributing it to the recollection that she had wasted 
upon an unworthy impostor what would have gone 
far towards saving these poor and deserving people 
from such exquisite misery, was about to tell her that 
she would be her banker for what sum she might 
wish to bestow, when she was interrupted by IVIary 



127 

Ann, Let us make haste, and see if we can do any 
thing for them (said she, her countenance showing 
the strongest marks of commiseration and compas- 
sion). Isabella was equally ready with herself; and 
they were hastening down stairs, when Julia stopped 
them, and said, with great agitation, I cannot bear 
the idea of witnessing such a scene of distress : it is 
too much for my feelings. I will leave you, there- 
fore, to go by yourselves, and wilhvait for you at the 
street-door. 

Though neither Mary Ann nor Isabella had been 
accustomed to encourage that kind of sensibility 
which shrinks from the sight of distress, when there 
is a possibility of relieving it, either by help or sym- 
pathy, Julia's agitation was too evident for them to 
urge her : they therefore parted, they going into 
the room, to which they were directed by the sounds 
of misery, and Julia making all the haste in her 
power down stairs, followed by the servant. It is 
impossible to describe the scene of distress which 
presented itself to the young friends on their entering 
the room. The poor woman, on seeing the officer of 
justice take hold of her husband as their prisoner, 
had uttered the scream of distress which had re- 
sounded through the house, and, throwing herself at 
their feet in an attitude of supplication, overcome by 
her feelings, had sunk fainting on the floor. Their 
two children, though unable to understand what was 
the matter, alarmed at the appearance of the stranger 
and the sight of their mother's lifeless form, were 
crying pitcously,, and clinging to their father's knee, 
whom, though too weak to support himself, the officer 
had raised from his chair, and was attempting to re- 
move, whilst his eyes were fixed with a look of un- 
utterable anguish on the pallid face of'his wife, whom 



128 

lie only begged to stay and gee restored to life before 
he left her. 

You had better go now when she is insensible (said 
the man in a tone of compassion, for his heart was 
far from being as cruel as his office). 

You surely would not think of taking him away in 
such a state (said Isabella, going forward, whilst 
Mary Ann, snatching up a bason of water which 
stood on a table near, ran to bathe the temples of the 
fainting woman; and, whilst she did so, spoke in a 
soothing tone to the weeping children, who seemed to 
feel the influence of her soft voice and sweet coun- 
tenance, and began gradually to cease their cries). 

I cannot help it, ma'am, (said the man in a tone 
of concern,) I do no more than my duty. 

But you need not prosecute it with cruel diligence 
(remonstrated Isabella). Let this poor man sit down 
again, and give him time to overcome the shock he 
has received, before vou think of tearing him away. 

It will only be the harder to go, the longer I stay, 
I believe, (said the man, resolutely endeavouring to 
muster up courage,) and I can leave these unhappy 
beings with more ease, now that I see they arc in the 
hands of mercy and compassion. 

What is the sum for which you are arrested? 
(asked Isabella.) 

Four pounds, ma'am (replied the man). 

Mary Ann, still on her knees bathing the poor 
woman's temples, who began to show some signs of 
life, started up at the scund'of these words,- her eyes 
beaming with animation. Thou art free then (said 
she); thy debt shall be discharged immediately; 
and, taking out her purse, the money was paid, and 
a receipt given, almost before the poor man, who had 
found this sudden release not much easier to bear 



129 

than the first shock, was sufficiently recovered to 
thank his benefactor. Isabella, who had taken the 
task of assisting the woman, now so far succeeded as 
to get her to sit up ; when, collecting her scattered 
senses, she seemed to recollect what had passed, and 
looked around, as if in fear of either seeing the man 
still there, or her husband gone ; her eyes first rested 
upon his countenance, which was expressive of joy 
and gratitude. Mary Ann, stooping down and wiping 
the tears from the faces of the children, whom her 
gentle soothings had quite restored to composure, 
conceiving that a shower of tears would be the best 
relief to the poor woman's overcharged heart, and that 
nothing was so likely to produce this effect as her 
children's caresses, desired them to go to their mother, 
andtell her, that she might be happy, for their father 
was not going to be taken from them. Nor was she 
wrong in her conjecture; for, clasping her arms around 
them, she burst into a flood of tears, which nei- 
ther of the young friends attempted to interrupt, till, 
at length, her agitation began of itself to subside, and 
she was able to understand what had been done for 
them, and to bless the kind hands which had admi- 
nistered the happy relief. 

Isabella now asked if the man had any medical 
advice ? 

No, ma'am, (answered the woman,) I have never 
been able to prevail upon him to let me send for a 
doctor. He always said, t had enough to do to get 
bread for us all whilst he was unable to work, with- 
out having the expense of a doctor added to the rest ; 
and that nothing but a cold was the matter with him. 
And to be sure a cold it was, for he got it by stand- 
ing four or five hours in the rain, waiting to appeal 
from the militia, which he had a right to do on ac- 



150 

count of a hum.- log he has. Itbreughteo a low fever, 
that has kept him confined to the house, and very of- 
ten to his bed, ever since, and it is now more than a 
twelvemonth ago. The misfortune has been, his not 
having proper things to nourish and strengthen him, 
for he has always been so much afraid of depriving 
us, that he would never iet me get any thing better 
for him than I got for myself and the children, not 
considering that we were in health, and could do with 
the commonest food. 

And you see, (said the man,) in spite of all my 
care, it would not do, for we were soon obliged to 
run into debt with the person from whom we procure 
the most of our food. In spite of all my poor wife 
could do, the debt got greater and greater, till they 
refused at last to let us have any more; and, after 
dunning us every week for the last six months, as 
they said they knew my wife got a great deal of trade 
by her flowers, they at last pretended to think it was 
merely that we did not choose to pay; forthey could 
not be persuaded that genteel people were as bad 
payers as the poorest can be, and therefore sent to 
arrest me, when I must have been forced to go to 
prison, had it not pleased the Almighty to send us 
such timely help. 

The next care (said Isabella) must be to get you 
restored to the power of assisting your wife in work- 
ing for your family ; I shall therefore send a doctor 
in the course of the day, and you must allow your 
wife to get whatever he recommends for you. Then, 
putting a pound note into the woman's hand, the two 
friends took leave, promising to see them again very 
soon ; and followed by the blessings of the grateful 
and now happy family. When they got down 
stairs, they found Jatncs waiting for them: he had 



131 

been to see Miss Julia home, he said, and had just 
returned for them. As they went along, they entered 
into a friendly arrangement about the money which 
had been given for the relief of the poor people, of 
which Isabella insisted upon bearing her share. Mary 
Ann for some time objected ; but, finding at last that 
it would bo a gratification to her friend, she 
yielded, and it was agreed that Isabella should give 
her fifty shillings, which would make an equal divi- 
sion of what had been given, between them, and that 
any further expense which might be incurred on the 
same occasion should also be shared in the same way. 
Arrived at home, they found Julia perfectly recovered 
from her agitation, and, not seeming to remember 
where they had been, or what had detained them so 
long, she made no inquiries. Isabella, however, ima- 
gining that she would be interested in hearing the 
state in which they had left the poor family, for 
whom she had shown such unequivocal marks of feel- 
ing, was beginning to give her an account of the 
transactions ;but Julia immediately stopped her, say- 
ing, I have no doubt that you have acted like hero- 
ines, and met with senes of distress greater than 
were ever met with before ; but I must beg to be ex- 
cused the trouble of hearing them described, for I am 
quite tired of having so many dismals to digest this 
morning. It is not at all congenial with my nature. 

What is that (said Douglas, who with his brother 
at that moment entered the room,) that is so dis- 
agreeable to my gay cousin Julia ? 

To be wise and solemn, (returned Julia, turning 
off the subject with ready address,) and never to say 
or do any thing without thinking an hour about it first. 

And would it be impossible to teach you to do and 
say wise things without me dictating so long before- 
hand ? (asked Frederick, laughing. ) Will it not be j 



132 

possible to fill that head so full of wisdom, that it 
will flow spontaneously whenever it is needed ? 

There is already a great deal more in it than Julia 
is willing to acknowledge (said Mary Ann), and I 
am in hopes that it is daily tilling. 

I allow (returned Julia) that there is a great deal 
poured in daily. But (added she, turning to Mary 
Ann with an arch smile,) do you recollect what was 
the work of the Danaides ? 

Yes ! (answered Mary Ann, laughing.) It was to 
fill a tub, with holes in it, full of water. 

Then just such a task will they have to perform, 
who attempt to fill this pericranium full of wisdom 
(said Julia, adjusting the curls of her hair at a gloss 
as she spoke); for folly has made so many holes, that 
it is incapable of retaining what is put into it for any 
length of time. 

I do not so despair ; but hope one day or other to 
see thee all that we could wish thee to be (said Mary 
Ann). 

Not unless you can manage to inoculate me with 
quakerism, and then, indeed, I should be perfection 
itself, returned Julia, changing her tone of good- 
tempered joke into that of bitter sarcasm; for, though 
she could talk with great frankness of her own faults, 
with the expectation that she should by that means 
convert censure into admiration, she could not bear 
that Mary Ann should be so willing to acknowledge 
that she was not already all that she needed to be. 

Yes, (replied Mary Ann with a look and voice of 
the most perfect good temper,) provided we could 
give thee the perfect part of the quaker character in 
exchange for the imperfect ones of thy own. 

This gentle reply did not restore Julia's good-hu- 
mour, for she saw every eye turned towards the 



133 

amiable quaker with an expression of admiration and 
pleasure; and, provoked beyond measure at thus be- 
ing eclipsed, she took up a book which lay near her, 
to play with its leaves, and thus hide her chagrin. 
The book happened to be one which Frederick had 
been reading in the morning, and, looking at it, she 
perceived it to be Latin. Here is a paragraph which 
has been marked with a pencil as something remark- 
able, I see (said she); I should like exceedingly to 
know what it is. Will you oblige me, Mary Ann, by 
translating it for me ? 

Thou wouldst not surely think of putting that 
task upon me, (said Mary Ann modestly,) when 
there are so much better scholars in the room. 

Oh ! but I wish to have the favour from you, (re- 
turned Julia, who, imagining that Mary Ann's reluc- 
tance arose from a consciousness of inability, was 
therefore the more eager in her solicitations, from 
the no very charitable hope of exposing her to some of 
that mortification which had so lately been inflicted 
on herself.) You know I have always had a great 
dislike to the idea of a woman's being a Latin scho- 
lar, and wish to be reconciled to it by seeing you 
shine as one. 

Thou couldst not then, I believe, have chosen a 
better passage for removing thy prejudices (replied 
Mary Ann, and, without making any unnecessary 
scruples or excuses, she translated, in an easy and 
ready manner, the folio wing passage from Erasmus): 
"The vulgar are of opinion that the Latin language 
is not suitable to females, because it does little to 
preserve their virtue , and because it is not common 
for a female to know it. But knowledge conquers 
all vices ! It is common for a native female of Ger- 

N 



134 

many to understand French, and she talks with those 
\vho know French ; why, therefore, should it be inde- 
corous to know Latin, and converse daily with au- 
thors so eloquent, so learned, so wise, so worthy to 
be consulted. I am certain, how weal: soever the 
head, there is much less evil in these good studies 
than in a prayer spoken without thought in nights of 
banqueting, or in wasting the fortune of a parent." 

Translated in a manner that would do credit to a 
college! (said Frederick as Mary Ann finished.) 

I never heard any thing translated with more grace 
(cried Douglas, fixing his eyes with a look of warm 
admiration on Mary Ann's modest but independent 
countenance; and wondering, as he did so, that he 
could ever before have looked at her without think- 
ing her handsome). 

Aye, you are all very clever and very learned, (said 
Julia,) and make me ready to sink with shame at my 
own ignorance. Even Isabella there (added she, pro- 
voked at the expression of satisfaction which she saw 
in her sister's countenance at the credit with which 
her friend had acquitted herself,) looks with contempt 
on her unlearned sister. 

From what authority do you make that assertion ? 
(asked Isabella mildly:) Not, I am sure, from ex- 
perience. 

Oh! I know very well it is so (returned Julia, in 
an undisguised look and tone of sarcastic ill-nature). 
You look with contempt on my butterfly qualifica- 
tions, the mere ephemera of the day; whilst you 
wade with unwearied patience through the pages of 
learning, with the expectation, no doubt, when dead, 
of living as a literary phenomenon in the annals of 
posterity. 



135 

It is a happy thing for me (answered Isabella with 
perfect mildness and gentleness) that I have no such 
thirst for posthumous fame, as I certainly do not 
possess any qualifications that could obtain it. To 
be loved whilst living by the very few friends who 
know me, is all that I either expect or desire. 

And dost thou think (said Mary Ann, laying her 
hand on her friend's, and pressing it affectionately,) 
thou wouldst not be remembered and regretted as 
long as one of them lived ? 

Yes ! (answered Isabella, returning her friend's 
pressure, and looking at her with an affectionate 
smile,) as long at least as you remain to be my " bul- 
bul." 

I had rather sing to thee whilst thou canst hear me 
(said Mary Ann); I will approve thy virtues, whilst 
thou shalt in return approve my song. 

A pause now ensued, for every one was engaged 
with their own reflections. Julia felt that her evil 
genius was at work with her at all sides, and was 
afraid again to venture 4 to throw a dart, lest it should 
again recoil upon herself. Frederick was thinking 
how far Mary Ann was right in supposing that Isabella 
would be remembered and loved as long as one re- 
mained who had ever known her, the truth of which 
his own feelings fully confirmed ; and Douglas was 
contrasting the bitter and envious Julia, who had on 
his first acquaintance struck him as possessing all that 
was beautiful and engaging', but whom he now could 
scarcely think pretty, with the modest and unas- 
suming Mary Ann, whose first apppearance was the 
only one which gave the idea of plainness, for her 
mind gave beauty to a person, in other respects, un- 
prepossessing. Mary Ann, on her part, having taken 
up a piece of paper which lay on the table near her, 



136 

and placing it on the book which she still held in her 
hand, amused herself for a few minutes with writing 
upon it, and then put it into Isabella's hand, who, 
having read it, gave her a smile of acknowledgement; 
and, folding it up, put it into her bosom. This cir- 
cumstance again roused Julia's jealousy : and, as we 
are ever apt to suspect others of what we would be 
guilty ourselves, she was persuaded that Mary Ann 
had been amusing herself with some satirical remarks 
upon her; and, desirous of having it proved that she 
was not the only one who was capable of ill-nature, 
she said, I declare against that underhand mode of 
communication. It is not fair to task people without 
giving them an opportunity of benefiting by the cor- 
rection. 

Thou surely dost not suppose that I have been 
lashing any one ! (said Mary Ann with a look of 
surprise. ) 

The best way of convincing us of the mistake, will 
be to let us be equally favoured with Isabella, and 
know the contents of that paper, for I own I have my 
suspicions (answered Julia). 

Then, though its contents are not worthy of a mo- 
ment's attention, I must beg, Isabella, that thouwilt 
allow Frederick to read it ; which is a task, I believe, 
that he will not dislike. 

I believe, (said Frederick, as he took the paper 
from Isabella, who gave it to him, with a deep blush,) 
I ought to disclaim any wish to see it. but must confess 
that I, like Julia, have a strong curiosity to know its 
contents. 

Oh ! yes, read it certainly, (cried Douglas with a 
pretended look of gravity,) and let the writer be pu- 
nished for doing ill-natured things by having them 
exposed. 



137 
Frederick then read the following verses : 

Think not, my friend, that them art doom'd to move 
In this wide earth unheeded and unknown, 

That, if stern death should call thee to remove, 
None in thy loss would mourn a blessing gone. 

What though no splendid actions mark thy clays, 
And till the gazing world with wondering awe, 

Virtue's mild beams will spread their purer rays, 
And love's mild influence to thy centre draw, 

Thine are the actions which give life a grace, 

Which, though we wonder not, with joy we view ; 

That iill with usefulness life's narrow space, 
And, always pleasing, seem for ever new. 

Oft, when the splendid meteor strikes our eyes, 
Our breasts with wonder and amazement swell ; 

But no delight is mix'd with our surprise, 
For none, in viewing, can its purpose tell. 

But see the midnight sailor grateful gaze 

On that small star which guides his course aright ; 

With calm delight he views its tranquil rays, 

And blesses Heaven that gave the useful light. 

The sound of the dinner-bell, just as Frederick 
had finished reading these few simple verses, came 
very seasonably to Isabella and Julia, who neither of 
them felt any wish to have them commented upon ; 
and the party all hastened into the dinner-room, where 
they v/erc joined by the captain, good-tempered and 
cheerful as usual, who sat down amongst his young 
companions with as much pride and pleasure as a 
fond father when surrounded by a numerous and pro- 
mising offspring. "Upon my word, girls, (said he, 
looking round first at his nieces, and then at Mary 
Ann, as they took their seats at the table,) you arc 
a 3 



138 

all three so highly rouged, that I am almost inclined 
to touch your cheeks with my handkerchief to try 
whether any of it would come off." 

You need not trouble yourself, Sir, (said Dou- 
glas,) for I can answer for its being all ingrained co- 
lour, I saw it put on myself. 

What were the ingredients? (asked the captan,) 
for the colour is so fine, I should like to know its 
composition. 

That you shall with pleasure (said Douglas, who 
was so much irritated against Julia for her beha- 
viour, that he was determined to give her the retort 
courteous, and therefore proceeded, disguising the 
irony of his meaning, which he did not wish his uncle 
to discover, satisfied with its being known to her 
against whom it was directed). You must know then, 
Sir, that Miss Hulme was observed by Julia to write 
something on a paper, and then gave it to Isabella, 
who, after reading it, instead of making it known to 
the rest of the party as Julia naturally expected, 
folded it up and put it by. Julia, therefore, immedi- 
ately conjectured that it was some compliment to her 
sister, which Isabella's modesty would not allow her 
to make known. But, being resolved that we should 
enjoy the pleasure of hearing her praised, she pretend- 
ed to think it was some satirical remarks on the com- 
pany that Miss Hulme had been writing, and demand- 
ed its being read aloud, with which the writer was 
obliged, by way of clearing her character, to comply. 

It proved, however, to be, as Julia expected, a 
very handsome compliment to Isabella ; and, though 
the poetry was not such as any one needed to have 
been ashamed to acknowledge its being read aloud in 
her presence is no doubt the cause of Miss Hufme's 
blushes ; Isabella's arose from the ncaxVilv she was 



139 

under of sitting to hear herself praised, even though 
Frederick was the speaker, from whom she is so much 
accustomed to hear such things : and as for Julia, 
you may easily imagine hers to be the flush of plea- 
sure, at rinding that she was not the only person who 
knew her sister's worth, and delighted in praising it. 
She was happy. 

Douglas, (cried Frederick, determined to inter- 
rupt him, for Julia's countenance showed the state of 
her feelings, and Frederick had none of his brother's 
severity of indignation about him,) I have waited till 
1 am tired for an opportunity of asking you to help 
me to a slice of tongue; but your own occupies your 
attention so much, that you neglect the one you have 
to carve. And then resolving, when he had got leave 
to speak, to keep the conversation in his own hands, 
he turned to his uncle, before Douglas had time to 
begin again, and asked him if he had heard of the at- 
tempt which was said to have been made upon the 
Duke of Wellington. This had the desired effect of 
turning the captain's thoughts ; for any thing which 
! concerned his favourite hero, never failed to interest 
iim,and the rest of the afternoon was spent in general 
conversation. 



CHAPTER X. 



IN the evening, Julia, who had previously been 
summoned out of the room, soon after sent a servant 
to tell Isabella that she wished to speak with her a 
few minutes. " Miss Julia is waiting for you in the 
breakfast-room, ma'am" (said the servant). Thither 
Isabella hastened, with too strong a suspicion of the 
nature of the business to be much surprised, when 
Julia said, I have sent for you, Isabella, to beg that 
you will lend me some more money, for the woman 
has called to be paid for the pieces of silk, and L 
neglected to get change as I intended to-day, and, 
therefore, have not money to pay her. I will thank 
you, then, if you will lend me eight pounds more till 
to-morrow. 

I am sorry (said Isabella) to seem to make any 
demur about accommodating you with money whilst 
1 have it. But I must be obliged to say that, if I 
do not receive it back again in a day or two, it will 
put me to great inconvenience. 

Oh! you shall have it, you may depend upon it, 
to-morrow (&aid Julia). 

"Will you allow me to add another word by way of 
remonstrance ? (added Isabella in a gentle tone, un- 
willing to give pain, yet conscious that it was her 
duty to endeavour to convince her sister of her im- 
prudence in squandering away her money in the man- 
ner that she had witnessed that day.and which she was 



Ill 

afraid was only a specimen of almost every previous 
one.) You are not, I am sure, aware of the difficul- 
ties into which you are plunging yourself. 

As to difficulties, (answered Julia in a light, care- 
less manner,) you need not be afraid of that, for I 
assure you they will never arrive. You know I have 
only to write to Lady Ann when I want money, and 
she will send me some directly. And, by the by, I 
think I will write to her in a day or two, for I dare say 
I shall soon require her assistance. 

I wish I could prevail on you to depend upon 
yourself instead of Lady Ann, and then there would 
be no fear of a disappointment. 

Disappointment! 1 have no fear of it, I assure you. 
It is well known that her ladyship has a great in- 
come, and we all know equally well that she is no 
miser. 

I am not so sure of that (answered Isabella) ; Lady 
Ann spends too much upon her own gratifications to 
have much to spare for others. Besides, you know, 
she is no longer her own mistress. 

I see (cried Julia) that you are determined to 
conjure up a thousand difficulties, but I know that 
they are needless; so give me the money like a good 
girl (added she, with as much ease of manner as 
though her uniform kindness to her sister had given 
her a right to expect every favour from her) ; for the 
woman will be out of patience, as I am already. 

Isabella went and brought the money, which Julia 
almost snatched from her, and ran to settle with the 
woman, whilst Isabella hastened to obey a summons 
to join her uncle, Miss Courtley, and Frederick, in 
a rubber at whist, of which the captain was exceed- 
ingly fond ; and though neither of the young people 
would have chosen to spend their time in that man- 



11-2 

ner for their own pleasure, they were always ready to 
oblige their kind uncle, to whom they were conscious 
of owing more obligations than it was in their power 
to repay. " What has engaged you so long?" (asked 
the captain as Isabella entered the room.) " We ha\ e 
been sending some things to a poor family that we 
discovered this morning," (answered Julia, who 
followed her sister in time to hear her uncle's 
question, and was eager to prevent Isabella's replv, 
lest she should by any means discover the truth, 
when she was sure that her uncle would be displeased 
at her purchasing smuggled goods.) 

Well, that is a better excuse than I expected from 
you, (said the captain,) and does not need to be 
blushed at, Isabella, (added he, seeing the deep 
crimson of her cheeks, occasioned by her apparent 
jicquiescence in her sister's falsehood, whilst she 
v/as afraid of Mary Ann's asking if any thing more 
h:id happened about the poor family, and thus drawing 
Ja!ia into any further duplicity.) But Mary Ann 
was too quick in discernment not to see that there 
was something in the business that Isabella did not 
approve, and, therefore, took no notice of what 
p.issed. Isabella's mind was too much occupied for 
her to acquit herself well at whist, and her uncle, 
being her partner, had often to call her to account 
for the mistakes she made. At length, after los- 
ing the rubber, he threw down the cards, and de- 
clared she was a blockhead, and that he would play 
no more with her, and the next moment patted her 
back, saying, if she lost the game, there was one 
good thing she never lost, her temper ; and the rest 
of the evening was spent in conversation; for Julia, 
who was not in the habit of doing violence to her in- 
clinations, declined taking Isabella's cards, and Don- 



140 

glas played ill, that the captain declared t hut it would 
be making bad worse to take him for a substitute. 

The next morning, Isabella, who always was up 
some hours before the female part of the family, was 
going past the housekeeper's room, when she heard 
herself called on in a low voice, and, looking about, 
she saw Liddle beckon to her to come back, which 
she immediately di 1. I beg pardon, ma'am, for 
taking theJiberty of calling you back, (said the 
worthy Liddle ); but I think it my duty to tell you 
how Miss Julia is going on, and get you to speak to 
her and advise her to settle her accounts. You know, 
ma'am, there is nothing would make my master so 
angry as to find that the tradesmen's bills were not 
paid. And I have never been able to get Miss Julia 
to settle one of them since she had the keeping of the 
money, which is now almost six weeks, and the bills 
are getting very large. And as to my own accounts, 
though Miss Julia complains every time I have to ask 
her for money, and says she is sure I must be very 
extravagant, I cannot prevail upon her to look at one 
of them. She always says she has not time then, 
but she will do it to-morrow : but to-morrow, when it 
comes, is not a bit better than the day before ; and, 
indeed, I am afraid, ma'am, that if there is not some 
account taken of how things stand, before long, there 
will be a very disagreeable reckoning, and that 
would make my master very much displeased both 
with Miss Julia and me. It is very different from the 
way that you used to do, ma'am settling your accounts 
and paying your bills every week, which made it so 
easy to keep things comfortable and straight, that even 
I, who am but a bad accountant, never was at any 
loos. Isabella forbore to make anj remarks to her 
sister's disadvantage, but merelydesired Liddle to send 



144 

so the different trades-people for their bills, and give 
them to her, when she would get her sister to settle 
them. She then left the room with a heavy heart, as 
the dreaded the investigation, though determined to 
make it. immediately, as she was sure that everyday 
would only increase the evil ; and the rest of the morn, 
ing was spent in painful conjectures ahout the extent 
of Julia's debts, and how far her means were likely to 
be able to answer them. In this, however, she was 
quite at a loss by what rule to form her judgement ; 
for, though Julia had talked of fifty-pound notes, 
she could not tell how many she had of them; nor, 
indeed, after the proof which she had received the 
night before of the ease with which she could tell a 
direct falsehood, could she feel any confidence in her 
not having deceived her altogether. When there- 
fore she appeared at the breakfast-table, she felt it 
impossible to appear in her usual spirits, which she 
accounted for by pleading a head-ache ; nor was it 
indeed a mere excuse, for the painful reflections in 
which she had been engaged had given the pain in 
reality. Frederick, however, who was well acquaint- 
ed with all the variations of her countenance saw 
that her indisposition was more mental than bodily, 
and he kept his eyes almost constantly fixed upon 
her with inquiring solicitude. " Do not look at me so 
earnestly, (whispered she as they rose from the 
breakfast-table,) for you make me very uncomfort- 
able." That I would not do for the world (replied he j. 
But tell me, can I do any thing to make you more 
comfortable than I see you are at present ? 

No! nothing (answered Isabella, endeavouring to 
smile ) ; excepting, by not taking notice of any change 
which you may see in my countenance. 

I have always, you know, been accustomed to 



your confidence (returned Frederick), and I hope 
I still retain it. 

As far as I am myself concerned (answered Isa- 
bella), my earliest friend is still in undoubted posses- 
sion of it ; but you must not', at present, urge me 
any further, nor do or say any thing to excite my 
uncle's inquiries. 

I am satisfied with that assurance, and will say no 
more on the subject (said Frederick) : then turning 
round, he began to talk upon indifferent topics with 
the rest of the party ; and at length supposing, from 
what Isabella had said, that it would be a relief to 
have her uncle engaged at a distance from home, he 
proposed to him that they should make a call at a 
distant part of the town ; which being agreed to, the 
two brothers and their uncle set off soon after. As 
soon as they were gone, Isabella went into Liddle's 
room, to say that, if the bills were at hand, she had 
then an opportunity of speaking to her sister about 
them. 

I have sent for them, ma'am (answered Liddle) ; 
for I knew that when you said it should be looked 
after, it would be done. As she spoke, the servant, 
who had gone to collect them, returned with the 
bills, which Isabella receiving, she went in search 
of Julia, whom she found in her own room prepar- 
ing to go out. I hope you have no very particular 
engagement this morning, Julia (said she) ; for I 
have some important business with you. 

Concerning the money I owe you (replied Julia), 
to return which I am just going to get this note 
changed ; and as she spoke, she took a fifty pour 1 
note out of her desk. 

But if you use that money for such a purpose, , ' 
there not be a danger of your not having enoi g 



146 

left to pay the tradesmen's bills that are standing 
against you? (asked Isabella). 

Oh! they will soon be paid (answered Julia); they 
cannot be very great in so short a time. 

Have you ever reckoned how much they are likely 
to be? 

No : but I intend to have a settling with Liddle 
to-morrow, and discharge them all. 

I have been prevailed upon, by Liddle, to apply 
to you for that purpose this morning (said Isabella) ; 
and, in order that you might not have any tempta- 
tion to put off so necessary a piece of work any 
longer, have already procured the accounts, which 
are here: and, as she spoke, she laid the papers on 
the table by her sister, who looked mortified, and at 
a loss what to say. I know (added Isabella) that 
you do not like settling accounts, and will therefore 
take the task off your hands, if you will allow me; 
for it is necessary that it should be done without loss 
of time, that you may know how you stand before 
you get any further involved in debt. Let me beg, 
therefore, that you will frankly give me an account 
of all your debts, and of what money you have in 
your hand, when I will balance your accounts. Un- 
less you will do that, I shall be obliged to make my 
uncle acquainted with my fears that you are involv- 
ing yourself to very serious extent. 

Julia, who saw by Isabella's steady manner that 
she was determined, and convinced that it was no 
longer in her power to avoid an investigation, which 
she had never had resolution to set about of her own 
accord, now went to her desk, and, taking out an- 
other note of the same amount as the former, and 
&ie of twenty pounds value, " Here is my money 
(said she); and, as to my debts, you have an ac- 
count of the rnoit of them already in your hand. 



147 

Isabella's countenance brightened at the*ight of 
the note:*. I had no expectation (said she with a 
look of pleasure, that you had so much money remain- 
ing in your possession, and hope now that things are 
much better than I expected. She then examined Lid- 
die's account of the money laid out for incidental ex- 
penses, which were all clearly and distinctly stated, 
and amounted to twelve pounds. This, with the mo* 
ney she had inner hand, accounted for a hundred and 
thirty-two pounds of the hundred and fifty which 
Julia had received from her uncle, and Isabella now 
applied to her to know how she had disposed of the 
remaining eighteen. But, alas ! Julia was unable 
to give any account : she could only say that she 
had paid for a hundred things, and could not pretend 
to remember them separately. But all the money 
that has been laid put for the house, has gone through 
Liddle's hands, 1 perceive by her book (said Isabella): 
the remainder must therefore have been spent for 
other purposes. 

I know (said Julia with great indifference) : I had 
several small debts which I had to pay off at the be- 
ginning of the quarter, and I suppose it has gone in 
that way, aud in the purchase of things that 1 have 
since had occasion to buy. 

But did you never consider (asked Isabella) that 
you were spending money that had only been intrust- 
ed to you as a steward; and that you would be ex- 
pected to give an account of your stewardship? 

I know that very well ; but I shall replace it' all be- 
fore my uncle knows any thing of the matter : for I 
shall get money from Lady Ann long before that 
time. 

You must expect an enormous sum from your 
banker, when you think of making up so many de- 
0-2 



14-8 

ficiencies through her means. Let me entreat you, 
however, not to trust to her any further, for 1 fear 
you have already gone too far; and remember, that 
after these bills are paid, which amount to sixty-two 
pounds, you will have only fifty-eight remaining for 
the rest of the quarter, which is sixteen pounds less 
than the first half has cost, that is now barely expired. 
You must not therefore think of spending one unne- 
cessary shilling till the supplies so fully expected are 
actually in your possession, if you do not wish to give 
my uncle an account of debts, without being able to 
say how the money has gone which ought to have dis- 
charged them. 

That is more than I can possibly propose to do (said 
Julia, who was very conscious of her own want of re- 
solution); for if I have money in my possession, and 
temptation comes in the way, I am afraid it will go as 
u&ual. 

If you think it will be safer with me, and will resign 
the trust, I will do my best to bring you to the end of 
the quarter without any further embarrassments. 

I wish most heartly you would (cried Julia, with 
great eagerness); for I am completely weary of it. 
Take the money, at least all except a few pounds, 
which I must of course keep to answer my little neces- 
sary expenses; and, after you have paid yourself, 
there will still be enough remaining to answer the calls 
of the house, till I get money from Lady Ann to make 
up the deficiency. 

No: (said Isabella,) I cannot allow you one farthing 
out of this money, for I do not, like you, place de- 
pendence on Lady Ann. But you will not, I hope, 
think me too rigorous, when I only serve you in the 
same manner that I shall do myself. For I shall not 
take any of the money you owe in*.: from this. 



H9 

What then can we either of us do ? (asked Julia in 
atone of consternation.) 

I have just three pounds remaining of my own mo- 
ney, (answered Isabella,) with a look of as much gen- 
tleness as though her sister had never given her any 
cause of reproach,) and you shall have half of it, which 
you must contrive to make serve you till you either 
get money as you expect from Lady Ann, or we re- 
ceive another quarter's allowance. 

But what will you do about paying for your pelisse, 
for I know you always like to pay for things as soon as 
you get them? (inquired Julia.) 

I will not have it at present answered Isabella". You 
know it was not positively ordered, so that it will not 
put Miss Frill to any inconvenience if I wait a few 
weeks longer; and I shall immediately acquaint her 
with my intention. 

And will you forgo the gratification of an elegant 
new dress, just as you were almost in possession of it 
(said Julia with surprise), and drag on witli that which 
you have worn so long, tnerely because you cannot 
pay for it immediately? 

If I were sure of seeing you free from debt at the 
end of the quarter, and of having my own money free 
from any deductions (answered Isabella), I should not 
think of declining it : but whilst I see a danger of your 
needing my assistance at that time, I cunnot think of 
incurring any unnecessary expense ; and unnecessary 
I certainly consider this, though I thought, it right to 
order it out of compliment to my uncle's liberality, 
who has a right to expect that I should prove it by 
my dress. The pelisse, however, that I at present 
wear, is still sufficiently handsome to prevent any 
appearance of meanness ; and as long as that is the 
case I can wear it with perfect comfort, 
o 3 



150 

You arc far too good, and far too perfect ! (ex- 
claimed Julia, turning from her sister, and going to- 
wards the window, as if uneasy at the conviction which 
darted across her mind of the contrast between their 
characters.) I wish you were not so kind and gentle, 
that I might have the satisfaction of hating you. 

Of hating me! (cried Isabella with a look of horror.) 

Yes, (said Julia, turning round and looking at her 
with a mixture of shame and mortification in her coun- 
tenance,) is it not very natural to hate any person who 
goes so nearly towards making one hate oneself? 

Not natural, certainly (answered Isabella) ; for, de- 
pend upon it, Nature never committed such a mistnke 
in her ordinations, as to make it natural for one sister 
to hate another. 

It would certainly be a great comfort to me, how- 
ever, if I could manage to hate you; for, if I do not, 
I am afraid I shall be obliged to hate myself, and that 
would not be very agreeable, you must allow. 

You shall never hate me (said Isabella) ; and I hope 
the day is not far distant, when both herself, and every 
body else who know her, shall love Julia Frankland 
more and better than they ever did before. It is only 
necessary for you to become fully sensible of your 
ihults; for your abilities are equal to the correction 
of much more serious ones than any, I hope, that you 
have to overcome. 

They were now summoned down stairs to two ladies, 
visitors, and the rest of the day was passed by Isabella 
with much more ease of mind than it had been begun; 
for she now hoped she should have it in her power to 
screen her sister's imprudence from her uncle, at the 
same time that she trusted Julia had received a cau- 
tion, which would serve to keep her within moderate 
bounds for the future. 



151 

As Isabella had made Julia promise not to purchase 
any thing on credit, on pain of a full disclosure of the 
whole affair to her uncle, which she said she should 
feel herself called upon to make, in order to prevent 
her committing acts of dishonesty, for in such light 
she considered the contracting debts that she had no 
means of paying, she could ill have brooked being 
so confined in her circumstances, but in the persua- 
sion that a few days' endurance were all to which she 
was likely to be doomed. She had written to Lady 
Ann, and had no doubt that her letter would be an- 
swered immediately, and would bring her a happy re- 
lease from all her embarrassments. Day after day, 
however, passed over, after the necessary time for 
the return of the post had elapsed, without the ex- 
pected answer arriving. At length, out of patience, 
and suspecting that her letter must have miscarried, 
she wrote a second and much moie urgent one. 
Still, however, no reply appeared; arid, at a loss to ac- 
count for the circumstance, she became exceedingly 
restless and uneasy. Isabella had often observed, du- 
ring this period, that hersister and Miss Courtley were 
much less cordial than usual; but she could not feel 
much regret at the coolness, convinced that that lady 
was a very improper person to be intrusted with the 
superintendence of the thoughtless Julia's conduct. 

She had long seen that her extreme apathy and 
indolence, independentlyof a want of proper principle, 
made her entirely inattentive to what was passing, ex- 
cepting when her own interest was concerned, when 
she was always roused to a degree of animation never 
at any other time discoverable. 

After Julia had waited a full fortnight for her an- 
xiously expected letter, she came one morning into 
Isabella's room in very visible agitation ; and on her 



152 

sister's inquiring the cause, " It is owing to that con- 
temptible creature" (said she with a voice almost 
choked with passion). 

Whom do you mean? (asked Isabella with extreme 
surprise.) 

Miss Courtley, to be sure! Who else could I mean? 

I thought she had been one of your best friends. 
You have often spoken of her as such. 

Yes: whilst I had money and could make her pre- 
sents, (said Julia in a tone of extreme indignation,) 
I was always an angel; but now that he knows I have 
none, and fears my means are decreasing, she has 
dunned me till I am weary for the trifle 1 owe her, 
and has the insolence to threaten to tell my uncle. 

I was in hopes (said Isabella with a look of great 
distress) that I had known the extent of the evil; but 
if you have still debts which you did not acknowledge, 
I cannot tell where it is to stop. 

I declare I had quite forgotten that the twenty, 
five pounds which my uncle gave me for her at the 
beginning of the quarter, had never been paid, till she 
asked me for it the other day, after 1 had given you all 
my money ; and for all I told her that I had not any 
money then, but that I expected to get some from 
Lady Ann in a day or two, and would pay her as soon 
as ever it arrived, she has teased me about it con- 
tinually, and declares, this morning, that she will tell 
my uncle not only of that, but of the money which 
I owe for the artificial flowers, which would be far 
worse, for I know he would never forgive my re- 
maining in these poor people's debt. 

Is it possible (asked Isabella, almost dreading to 
hear the answer to the inquiry she made) can it be 
possible, that you were one of the thoughtless fine 
ladies of whom the woman spoke, who ordered flowers 



153 

of that poor industrious creature labouring to support 
a sick husband and helpless children, without ever 
thinking of paying for them ? 

I did not suppose (said Julia, the blush of shame 
almost for the first time in her life suffusing her 
cheek) that so small a sum as forty or fifty shillings 
could be of much consequence to any body. 

Julia! (cried Isabella, in a tone of heartfelt di- 
stress and keen reproach,) I had hoped that thought- 
lessness was your greatest fault; but am grieved in- 
deed to find that you are destitute even of the com- 
mon feelings of humanity. 

Oh! do not you desert me too, (said Julia, burst- 
ing into tears,) for what will become of me? 

1 will never desert you (answered Isabella, soft- 
ened into a gentler tone at the sight of Julia's emo- 
tion); but, alas ! what can I do for you ? There is on- 
ly one expedient which I can devise to help you, and 
that I will adopt, without delay, if you will give me 
leave. 

What is it ? (asked Julia, eager to catch at the 
hope of assistance.) 

To lay the whole business open to Frederick ; and 
borrow some money of him to pay Miss Courtley and 
the poor woman. 

Not for the world (cried Julia) would I have you 
do so. I am sufficiently degraded already, without be- 
ing exposed to his contempt and ridicule. 

You know little of Frederick, if you think that con- 
tempt and ridicule would be returned for such a mark 
of confidence. The tenderest sympathy and com- 
miseration, with ready assistance, would be all that 
you would receive from him. 

He shall never be tried (returned Julia with de- 
termination) ; and, if you do not mean to drive me 



to distraction, you will never say a word to him on 
the subject. 

I should certainly never think of doing so without 
your leave, but wish exceedingly to obtain it; for I 
do not knew by what other means Miss Courtley can 
be pacified. 

Yes : ifyou will go to her, and tell her that you will 
see that she is paid with the first money I receive, she 
will be satisfied, I am sure. 

There is little chance of that, I fear (said Isabella, 
shaking her head doubtfully). 

Oh ! there is no doubt of it (said Julia) ; for she 
has so much confidence in you, that your word will 
be quite sufficient. Do then, dear Isabella, go direct- 
ly, added she in a tone of supplication,) for fear of 
her meeting with my uncle, who is in the house, I 
know; and she will be sure to put her threats into ex- 
ecution the very first time she sees him. Isabella had 
just got to the door with the intention of going in 
search of Miss Courtley, when a gentle tap was giv- 
en, and, on opening it, a servant gave her two letterSj 
which were (she said) for Miss Julia. At hearing 
of letters, Julia flew to the door, and almost snatch- 
ed them out of her hand. One I see is from Lady 
Ann (said she). You may stay, therefore, Isabella, 
for I shall now be able to give her the money, and it 
may perhaps be my turn next to threaten to tell my 
uncle. 

Julia's spirits, however, were a little damped on 
opening her letter and finding it contained no inclo- 
sure; and breathless with impatience to know the 
reason, and whether there was any money coming, 
she read, with extreme eagerness, the contents, which 
were as follow : 



155 

Dear Julia, 

I was so constantly engaged after the receipt of 
your first letter, that I could not possibly find time 
to answer it, till the arrival of a second obliges me to 
snatch a hasty moment to reply. I am very sorry for 
the embarrassments which you mention, and the more 
so, as it is not in my power to do any thing towards 
extricating you. At the time that I married Colonel 
St. John, I did not consider it necessary to make him 
acquainted with a few debts which I had contracted, 
thinking that I brought an income sufficiently li- 
beral to defray them all. I found afterwards, that he 
was in the same predicament, and have now reason 
to believe that was the cause of his long perseverance 
in his attentions to me, as he thought that my annuity 
would be an easy way of paying his debts. His dis- 
appointment at not finding it quite so clear as he ex- 
pected, has induced him to take the money entirely 
into his own hands, so that I can scarcely get as much 
as will supply myself with necessary pocket-money. 
There is nothing, therefore, for you to do but to learn 
economy, and clear yourself of the difficulties which 
you have got into, as soon as possible. I shall be 
very glad to hear when that is the case ; 
and remain, dear Julia, 

your sincere friend, 

ANN ST. JOHN. 

Cruel Lady Ann! (cried Julia, throwing down the 
letter, and clasping her hands in an agony of distress 
and disappointment;) she has brought me up in the 
habit of gratifying every wish, and now, when she 
knows me to be in distress and difficulties,she tells me, 
with the most cutting indifference, that I must learn 
economy But I always said she had no heart, it 



156 

was only the appearance of one which she displayed, 
that glittered outwardly, but was as hard within as this 
is (holdingup, as she spoke, a little cornelian heart that 
hung suspended from a gold chain round her neck). 

You had better look at the other letter (said Isa- 
bella, willing to relieve her sister's distress, by di- 
recting her attention to some other object j ; perhaps 
it may be better worth reading. 

From whom, I wonder? (said Julia.) It surely 
is Frederick's hand-writing (added she, looking at 
the superscription). What can be the reason of his 
writing to me ? And she opened the letter, without 
perceiving that a small piece of paper dropped from 
it as she did so ; which, however, Isabella took up, 
and laid on the table, without making any remark, 
whilst Julia read the following: 

My dear Julia, 

The near affinity of my dressing-room and yours, 
and the windows of both being wide open, will account 
for my overhearing the conversation which passed be- 
tween Miss Courtley and you, about an hour ago ; a 
circumstance that I sincerely rejoice at, as it affords 
me an opportunity, which, I am afraid, would not 
otherwise have been granted me, of being of service 
to you, always a high gratification to my feelings. 

I hope, therefore, you will not hesitate about ma- 
king use of the inclosed as a gift, if it is not painful 
to you so far to oblige me; but at any rate as a loan, 
not to be repaid till you are entirely free from all em- 
barrassments, and can part with it without any de- 
privation to either your sister or yourself, for my 
father's liberal allowance enables me to spareit without 
the smallest inconvenience. I cannot deny myself 
the gratification of telling you of the pleasure it gave 



157 

ire to hear you say that your sister was become your 
confident and adviser. She is worthy of the trust re- 
posed in her, and will, I am sure, be a comfort to 
you, as she has always been to those connected with 
her. Do not scruple, my dear Julia, to repose in 
her every particular of your situation, for you will 
always be sure to receive the most affectionate sym- 
pathy and judicious advice in return. I beg that no 
notice may be taken, when we meet, of the contents 
of this letter, but that you will be as silent on the sub- 
ject as you may depend on my being, for I shall not 
mention it even to Douglas. Do not, therefore, give 
yourself any concern at the affair having come to my 
knowledge; for, depend upon it, there will never be 
any other use made of it than is done at present by 
your affectionate friend and cousin. 

FREDERICK MACKENZIE. 

Kind and generous Frederick ! (cried Julia, her 
eyes swimming with tears as she took up the note, 
and saw it was one of fifty pounds. ) This is indeed 
real friendship ; and a return which I was little de- 
serving of from you, whom I have so often tried to 
wound by ridiculing Isabella, the most susceptible 
point on which I know your feelings to be assailable. 

It is just what I knew you might expect from him 
(said Isabella, her eyes sparkling with delight at this 
proof that she was not mistaken in her judgement); for 
he always was kind and considerate to all around him. 
But let us make haste (added she) to put the most 
effectual stop to Miss Courtley's tongue, by paying 
her. She then gave Julia smaller notes to the amount 
of her large one ; and putting the twenty-five pounds 
in a note from Julia, Isabella herself took it to Miss 
Courtley, and had just returned when another tap at 
the door summoned Isabella to inquire who was there. 



1/J8 

My master wishes to see Miss Julia in the break- 
fast room, ma'am (said a servant as she opened it). 

Odear! (cried Julia in great alarm,) what can 
my uncle want, excepting Miss Courtley has met 
with him, and told her tale ? Do go with me, Isabella, 
for I am afraid to see him alone. 

You have never been in the habit of receiving any 
severity from him, (remonstrated Isabella,) and need 
not now be so much alarmed. 

At any rate, I shall have great need of you to sup- 
port and plead for me (returned the agitated Julia). 
Let me, therefore, entreat you to go. 

Isabella complied. And they proceeded down stairs 
as fast as Julia's tottering limbs would allow her: but, 
on opening the room-door, she started back as though 
she had seen a spectre ; for the first object she beheld 
was the poor woman to whom she was in debt for the 
artificial flowers standing near it. Come in (said 
the captain in a voice very different from his usual 
tone), you need not be afraid of this poor woman, 
she will not do you as much harm as you have done 
to her. 

Julia, no longer able to command herself, rushed 
forward,and throwing herself at her uncle's feet.clasp- 
ed her arms round his knees, and burst into a violent 
flood of tears. I am glad to see these tears, (said the 
captain, his own voice faltering as he spoke,) 1 hope 
they are tears of penitence and amendment. I have 
heard of all that has passed amongst you ; first from 
Miss Courtley, and afterwards from Liddle, whom I 
questioned on the subject. I know, therefore, how 
you have behaved, and what a sister Isabella has pro- 
ved herself, and called you down whilst this poor 
woman was here, whom I sent for that she might be 
no longer without her money, and that you might have 



159 

the punishment you so richly deserve, of looking at a 
person you have-injured. The poor woman, whose 
situation was scarcely less painful than Julia's, now 
begged permission to withdraw, which, at Isabella's 
request, was granted. The captain, now desiring Julia 
to rise, said, Though Miss Courtley has exposed 
you, she has also exposed herself, and proved herself 
to be a mean contemptible woman, whom lean never 
more have patience to look upon: lam determined, 
therefore, to discharge her, and desire that she may 
leave my house immediately. However you may be 
to blame, she is much more so, for having countenan- 
ced you so long in your extravagant and unprincipled 
behaviour. You shall go, Isabella, and take her both 
that and the five-and-twenty pounds which Julia owes 
her, as well as a note from me to let her know my 
wishes. 

The five-and-twenty pounds are already paid, sir 
(said Julia, speaking as well as her agitation would 
allow her). 

Paid ! (cried the captain. ) How can that be ? it is 
not much more than an hour since she told me of it. 

But since that time she has received it. Isabella 
took it to her just before we came down stairs. 

And where did the money come from ? 

Julia, without speaking, put Frederick's letter into 
her uncle's hand, who, on reading it, exclaimed, 
Frederick is indeed a fine fellow; and I shall the 
sooner forgive the pain you have given me this morn- 
ing, as you have been the means of my knowing how 
to value both his and Isabella's character, neither of 
whom I ever before estimated as they deserved, from 
the foolish idea that they were too learned to be 
worth much besides. Frederick and Douglas now 
opened the room-door; but seeing their uncle and his 



160 

nieces apparently in deep conversation, they were 
drawing back. Julia seeing them, Come in, (said 
she, going towards the door,) for I am the only one 
who can possibly feel any pain in your presence : but, 
as I have a favour to beg of my uncle, I wish for all 
the interest I can obtain, to prevail on him to grant 
it, and I know well that I may make myself sure of 
both of yours, in addition to Isabella's. 

With such interest, (said the captain, recovering 
his composure, and speaking with more cheerfulness,) 
the favour must be a most unreasonable one to be re- 
fused. 

I am painfully conscious (said Julia, blushing deep- 
ly,) that my behaviour gives me little right to ex- 
pect any indulgence even from my kind uncle ; yet, 
with the knowledge that I have of myself, I am very 
sure that even the repentance whichl feel at this mo- 
ment to be very sincere, is not to be depended upon 
if I remain in the way of temptation. I should there- 
fore wish to be allowed to go for a little time into 
the country, to one of those seminaries, now so com- 
mon, for the accommodation of young people who, 
like me, (added she, smiling as a little of her native 
liveliness made its way through her agitation,) are too 
old for school, yet too young to have sense to direct 
themselves, where I should have an opportunity of ac- 
quiring a little more judgement, and should return, I 
hope, better fitted to reward my uncle for his kind- 
ness. 

Oh ! (said Isabella) if you would but go to my 
aunt Mackenzie ! 

We cannot suppose that my aunt would be troubled 
with me (answered Julia) ;for she would not find me 
an Isabella. 

I will answer for her in that respect (said Frede- 



161 

rick). Nothing, I am sure, would give my mother 
greater pleasure than to Be of service to the sister of 
Isabella. 

That is an excellent thought (said the captain). We 
will all go down in a body to Oaklands immediately, 
where we will stay as long as we can, and then leave 
Julia behind if both she and her aunt should wish it. 
It would be difficult to describe the delight of Isa- 
bella's countenance at this declaration. Oh dear, 
sweet Oaklands ! (she exclaimed in an ecstasy of plea- 
sure ;) shall I then see you again once more ! A knock 
at the door here announced a visitor; and soon after, 
Mary Ann Hulme made her appearance. It was easy 
for her to see, by the countenances of the whole party, 
that something particular had occurred amongst 
them : but, on examining Isabella's face, and seeing 
there stronger marks of pleasure than of pain, she 
had no further wish to be informed of its nature than 
they might seem willing to unfold. Frederick, how- 
ever, soon told her of the journey that had just been 
fixed upon, and called upon her for her congratula- 
tions. 

But thou dost not consider (said she) how great a 
sufferer I shall be by this arrangement, or else thou 
wouldst rather offer me thy condolences. For what 
compensation canst thou make me for taking my 
friend away just as I had begun to taste the happiness 
of having her near me ? 

That of giving my mother a hint, that it might not 
be impossible to get you to accompany her (answer- 
ed Frederick gaily). You know you were saying the 
other day, that your father was going to make a tour 
amongst the different societies of Friends throughout 
the kingdom; and that } r ou were to be quartered, in 
the mean time, upon whoever would have the trouble 
r 3 



162 

of you. Now, as I know my mother is a favourite 
with him, I hope he will not make any objection to 
intrusting his daughter with her during his absence. 

Not unless he be afraid (said Mary Ann, laughing) 
that amongst so many heretics I may be persuaded 
to become an apostate to the church. 

I am sure, for my part, I will give him a solemn 
promise never to endeavour to make you one (said 
Douglas with warmth) ; for I would not, for the 
world, have you different, in the smallest particular, 
from what you now are. 

But, indeed, (added he, checking the ardour of his 
manner, of which he became conscious by observing 
the crimson which dyed Mary Ann's face and neck,) 
there is so little real difference between us, that there 
would not be much glory in a conversion on either 
side. By agreeing to differ in a few unimportant 
points, we shall, I am sure, enjoy a perfect union on 
every other subject. 

I shall rejoice in having Mary Ann with us (said 
Julia); for it will give me an opportunity of making 
amends for the many improprieties of my behaviour 
towards her, and for which 1 now most sincerely beg 
her pardon; whilst I assure her of my resolution to 
endeavour to deserve that friendship, which she so 
kindly offered on our first acquaintance, and which I 
did not then know how to appreciate. Mary Ann held 
out her hand to Julia, but, before she could make a 
reply, the captain exclaimed, " I have no doubt we 
shall all of us like one another better than we have 
ever done yet, and enjoy ourselves at Oaklands ex- 
ceedingly, this fine weather. I will go directly and 
write to my sister, and tell her of the party she may 
expect." And now, with the concluding sentence of 
that letter, we will close our story: "Never again 



163 

will I depend upon the promises of childhood for the 
future character ; for I am now of your opinion, that 
though amiable dispositions may assist in the produc- 
tion of good fruit, as a rich soil aids the labour of the 
husbandman, it depends upon education and example 
to determine what the future crop shall be ; for, cer- 
tainly, as we have now a striking instance, they are 
capable of producing 

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METAMORPHOSES/' 



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166 Published by William Darton, 

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58, Holborn Hill, London. 167 

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ONE SHILLING EACH. 

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68, Holborn Hill, London. 169 

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58, Holborn Hill, London. 171 

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U2 



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Walker's Tour th 



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THE END. 



Printed by K. aiul A. Taylor, 
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J^f Extensive collections of Bcx^s ior the t^se of 



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