"She has _not_, my dear; but I trust her friends in England will provide her with some situation, in which her talents will enable her both to support herself and benefit others; and by this means the cup of affliction now may hereafter prove one of blessedness: her little girl is only six years old, and will therefore be but a trifling expense to her for some years to come."

Matilda now wiped her eyes, but was observed for a considerable time involved in deep thought, and silent thanksgiving to G.o.d, and no one around thought it right to interrupt the silent aspirations of her heart; but as soon as her countenance resumed its usual expression, and she rose from her seat, the young ones surrounded her, and with cheerful looks congratulated her on the change in her feelings, which they were aware a few moments must have produced; for, as Edmund observed, though it was very right to be resigned to every change which it pleased G.o.d to send, yet it was undoubtedly a great pleasure to know that a dear parent enjoyed not only the power of living in her usual style of comfort, but that she preserved the power of bestowing a part of her fortune to feed the poor, and to communicate knowledge, and sow the seeds of virtue in the minds of the young and uninformed.

Matilda listened to their congratulations with grat.i.tude and pleasure, and looked forward with exultation, chastened by a proper diffidence of herself, to the time when, with her beloved mother, she should be employed in acts of beneficence and social enjoyment--"So pa.s.sing through things temporal, as not to lose the things that are eternal."

CHAPTER XI.

On the following midsummer vacation, Mrs. Harewood complied with the wishes of her young family, by consenting to give a ball to their young friends; and as she disapproved very much of late hours, the whole party were invited to dinner, in order that the dance might commence early.

The day previous to this entertainment was a very busy one, as the young people were permitted to display their taste by arranging the ball-room, and ornamenting it in the best manner they were able with flowers, under the inspection and with the a.s.sistance of Miss Campbell. The boys, attended by the footman, went out into the country, and returned laden with beautiful spoils from the hedges and copses, consisting of branches of trees, brushwood, and maythorn, together with those green plants which at this season of the year are found in abundance, such as clivers, coltswort, and the various mallows. When these were brought home, the young ladies tied gay flowers, made of various-coloured paper, upon them, at distances, with green worsted; and when these ornaments were finished, the branches themselves were tied together with strong cord, which was hidden by the foliage. By this means they were made into long wreaths, which were hung in festoons all round the room, and had an exceedingly beautiful effect, while over the doors and windows arches were formed of the same materials; but when the greens were brought nearer to the eye, natural flowers were used, which, being cut very short in the stem, preserved themselves fresh and beautiful, and perfumed the place with the most delightful odours.

Though this employment was charming, yet it was necessarily fatiguing, and the children went to bed at an early hour. Not long after they had retired, Mr. and Mrs. Harewood heard a carriage, and while they were conjecturing who it might be, to their great surprise, the long-expected stranger, Mrs.

Hanson, was announced.

They were truly rejoiced to see her; for, although personally unknown to them, they were much disposed to esteem and love her, both from the style of her letters, and the many traits of her conduct and character given by Zebby, who was an able eulogist, since she ever spoke from the heart, and although ignorant, was by nature acute and penetrating.

The anxious mother, sensible that forms were not necessary to be attended to, in addressing the worthy couple to whom she came a welcome, though unknown guest, first inquired after her only child. When told that she was in bed, and fast asleep, having been much fatigued when she retired, she immediately declared that she would not have Matilda awoke for her own gratification--a declaration which confirmed the good opinion the family already entertained of her. She could not, however, resist the very natural desire she felt of beholding that dear object of her solicitude, from whom she had been so long parted; and she therefore visited her room, and, softly kissing her forehead, observed, to the great satisfaction of Mrs.

Harewood, that she had never seen her look so well before, which was certainly the fact, though her weariness had induced some degree of paleness.

Tears rose to the eyes of the fond mother, and often, often were they turned to the bed which contained all her earthly treasure, ere she could tear herself away; and Mrs. Harewood felt aware that silent prayers occupied her heart for the future welfare and progressive virtue of a being naturally so very dear, and whose bad pa.s.sions, at the time of their parting, had given so little rational hope of future felicity, either to herself or her widowed parent. Sympathizing truly with her feelings, and aware of the extreme delicacy of the subject, especially to one of whose peculiar feelings she knew so little, Mrs. Harewood left it to time to show the change in Matilda.

Mrs. Hanson was recalled from the fond reverie the sight of her daughter had involved her in, by the voice of Zebby, who had only just learned the arrival of that dear mistress she had ever so justly estimated. The two ladies descended, and found the happy negro weeping for joy, and running about the breakfast-parlour and dining-room, seeking for her lady, whom, when she beheld, she danced about like a wild woman; one moment being ready to cast herself at her feet, and the next longing to embrace her.

"I am very glad to see you, Zebby," said Mrs. Hanson, "and very happy to find you still my daughter's servant, as I know you will suit her much better in many respects than any Englishwoman possibly could."

"Me love Missy ver much, madam, but me no Missy maid now; me housemaid for madam Harewood now; me makee de bed, sweepy de stair, do all sort ting; me never wait on Missy, no, never."

Mrs. Hanson gave a deep sigh, and said to Mrs. Harewood--"I fear you have had some trouble in procuring a maid for my daughter, ma'am?"

"When your daughter came to us, you may remember, my good madam, that we undertook to treat her in every respect as if she were our own; we _have_ done it, and you will be able to judge to-morrow how far your dear girl is benefited or injured by sharing the attentions of Ellen's nursemaid, Ellen's governess, and Ellen's mother."

Mrs. Hanson felt that she was much indebted to the kindness evidently intended by this arrangement, especially as it was a plain case, that Zebby had been retained in the family for her accommodation; yet she could not help thinking that the contrast between Matilda's past and present situation was too great: although she had a thousand times desired that some great change might be adopted in her education, yet her heart shrunk at the idea of the discipline which she had so long felt to be necessary.

She was afraid that the terrible pa.s.sions her child had manifested, had rendered terrible changes necessary, and a train of inflictions and privations arose to her view, which maternal tenderness was unequal to contemplate unmoved; she therefore apologized to her friends, and retired to her room, but her pillow was strewed with those thorns which solicitude had planted there.

CHAPTER XII.

The following morning the young people arose early, and were surprised to find Mrs. Harewood also stirring; her amiable, affectionate heart promised itself a treat, in witnessing the sweet emotions of Matilda, on hearing the joyful tidings of her mother's arrival; nor was she disappointed--the delighted girl manifested all the rapture of which her warm susceptible heart was capable; and on hearing her mother slept in the crimson room, was hastily bending her steps to the chamber, thus named from the colour of the bed.

"But, my dear, it is yet early; your mamma was much fatigued with her long journey from Falmouth: is it not a pity to disturb her, especially as she has already seen and kissed you, although she would not awake you?"

Matilda stopped--"I do _so_ wish to see mamma," said she, "and to hear her speak! but then to awake her for my own pleasure would be selfish, as I used to be--I won't be selfish."

"That's right, my dear--you are now proving yourself truly affectionate--you are preferring mamma to yourself."

"But I may just stand at the door and listen to her breathing, and so wait till she moves."

"Certainly, my dear."

Away flew Matilda, happiest of the happy; and she had scarcely been ten minutes on her station when Mrs. Hanson's bell rang, and Matilda instantly opened the door, in silent but delightful expectation.

"Is my daughter awake?" said the fond mother.

"Oh, yes, yes, dear mamma, I am here!" cried she, springing to the outstretched arms of her loved parent, who, in embracing her joyfully, yet felt solicitude mingle with her joy, from the consciousness that her earthly happiness was centred in this single object, and that upon her future conduct rested the peace of both.

Mrs. Hanson did not rise for some hours, and her daughter breakfasted with her, and spent the time princ.i.p.ally in making inquiries after their old friends in Barbadoes, so that Mrs. Hanson had no opportunity of observing how her daughter was looked upon in the family, and on this eventful day, the ball in the evening was naturally the subject uppermost on Matilda's mind, so that there was yet no development of her real improvement.

At length Mrs. Hanson arose; her maid came in to dress her, and whilst this took place, the mother beheld with delight the improvement which had taken place in her darling's person, which was taller, and considerably better formed, as she had cured herself of stooping, and all her motions indicated sprightliness and agility.

Whilst Mrs. Hanson congratulated herself on this appearance, Zebby tapped at the door, and, on being admitted, said, with a very long face and doleful accent--"Oh dear, Missy, very bad ting have happened; de milliner have sentee home Miss Ellen new frock, and no sentee yours. She say she cannot makee till next week, because she very busy for little girls that losee their mamma, and must have blackee clothes to-morrow day."

Mrs. Hanson's heart sunk, and she felt as if her pleasure for this day at least was over, for she fully expected to see Matilda fly into a rage with the messenger, the milliner, and indeed all the house; and she could scarcely believe her own senses, when Matilda replied calmly--"Well, Zebby, it cannot be helped, and it does not signify much; I am sure Mrs. Harewood will excuse my want of a new dress on this occasion. To be sure, I should have liked to look the same as dear Ellen; but how can I think of such a trifling disappointment, when I remember it was caused by those unhappy children, who are now mourning for their mamma?"

So saying, she turned, and eagerly threw her arms round a mother, who, in the course of her whole life, had not embraced her with equal satisfaction; but before she had time to express her pleasure, and injure her who caused it, by the exaggerated praise which sprung to her lips, Matilda had run down stairs, just to peep at Ellen's new dress, speak of the delight she experienced in having gained her mother's society, and consult Miss Campbell as to the frock she must subst.i.tute for the one intended to be worn; and when Mrs. Hanson was left alone, she almost fancied that the foregoing scene was a kind of drama, which had been introduced for the purpose of surprising and pleasing her.

But observation confirmed her hopes, and justified her happiness. She descended at dinner-time, and was introduced to the children of the family, who, although little seen among so large a party, yet won her regard, from the unaffected kindness and ease with which they treated her daughter; and she observed, with approbation, that Matilda and Ellen were dressed exactly alike; the latter having declined wearing the frock bought for her, since her friend's could not be procured. Mrs. Hanson could not fail to love Ellen, in whose countenance the good temper, modesty, and sensibility which characterized her, were strongly expressed; but she had not much time to comment upon it, for the young party were now coming in, and attention was in some degree divided. In a short time dinner was announced, and the company, about thirty in number, were soon commodiously arranged round the hospitable table.

Mrs. Harewood had thought it right to disperse her own family among her guests, in order that they might pay proper attention to those near them, as by that means she hoped that none of the invited would be neglected; and according to this arrangement, which was made the preceding day, Matilda took the place appointed for her, which happened to be at some distance from her mamma, who sat, of course, next to Mrs. Harewood. In the bustle of so large a party, Mrs. Hanson could scarcely observe even her daughter at the beginning of the meal; but when the second course came in, she saw with some pain a large dish of custards placed exactly before Matilda; and on one of the company observing she had never seen such a n.o.ble dish of custards before, Mrs. Hanson said--"Matilda is remarkably fond of them; I am sorry they are so near her, for they are not wholesome."

"We seldom have such things on that account," said Mrs. Harewood; "but I must own I think them well placed, because Matilda can help her friends to them with ease."

These words drew the attention of the young ones, and Matilda soon received so many plates to supply, that there appeared little probability of her sharing in the feast. Edmund was near her, and gladly receiving his mother's approving smile, he secured one for Matilda, which he put upon her plate just before the last was demanded.

Ellen was equally busy distributing tarts near the bottom of the table. The footman brought her a custard, which he said Miss Hanson had sent for her.

"She is very good," said Ellen, "but I had rather take a jelly, if she will excuse my returning it."

The happy mother perceived that Matilda had sent Ellen the very custard which Edmund's kindness had ensured for _her_. Delicious tears sprang to her eyes; she perceived that Matilda was indeed a different creature; that she had not only conquered a disgraceful propensity, but acquired a habit of generous attention to others, of which there was at one period no hopes in her character.

The dancing now commenced, and the West Indian acquitted herself with great propriety; for although she did not perform so well as the greater part of the company, yet she was never awkward; and when at a loss for the figure, she listened with modesty, and obeyed with precision the rules laid down to her. Many of the party now a.s.sembled were amiable and obliging, but in so large a number, some were of course present, whose manners were less agreeable: but as Matilda considered herself one of the family, so she deemed it her duty to partake their cares, and render every person as happy as possible. She neither suffered rudeness to disturb her temper, nor awkwardness to excite her contempt; her conduct, under every temptation of this nature, was uniformly marked by self-command, modesty, and civility.

There was in this young party two Master Eustons, who, happening to be richer and a little older than the rest of the party, thought themselves ent.i.tled to quiz all around them at some times, and lord it over them at others. On their first coming into the room, they sought out Matilda, as a proper companion for them, because they had heard her named as a great West-Indian heiress; but when they saw her a modest, una.s.suming girl, they rather shunned her, as not being likely to enter into their sports. These boys would not have been voluntarily chosen as companions for his own by such a careful and observant father as Mr. Harewood, but they were the nephews of an old friend of his, and were then on a visit to their uncle, who would have felt himself neglected if Mr. Harewood had not invited them; and as, that gentleman very justly observed to his excellent lady, his children must necessarily mix with the world, both at school and elsewhere, it was desirable that they should do it sometimes under the eye of those kind parents, who might teach them how to distinguish what was good, and lead them, from general company, to choose particular society.

There was also a young lady who wished to render herself the particular companion of Matilda, for the same reason the Eustons had done, because she considered her the most wealthy child in the place; and from her person, and the elegance she observed in her mamma's dress and manners, she concluded that in a few years she would be the most dashing. It is astonishing how soon the eye of even a child can discriminate, in that particular which has been rendered the sole subject of its studies and the grand object of its wishes; so that people who pique themselves upon being men of the world, or women of fashion, are rivalled in all their boasted knowledge and discernment by young creatures, whose faculties they may deem very inefficient, and which are indeed so in all the higher requisites of mind and the attainments of knowledge.

The parents of Miss Holdup, the young lady in question, had acquired a large fortune, but were both called, at a very early period, from the enjoyment of it; and this their only child was placed, by the will of her father, under the sole guardianship of his solicitor, a man of integrity and of large fortune, and without any children of his own; so that the little girl had apparently every blessing her desolate situation demanded, for kindness was accorded to her in the family, as an orphan, without a rival, and her fortune was well secured by the skill of her guardian.

But, alas! false judgment and mistaken indulgence rendered this situation totally subversive of her improvement and her happiness; the lady to whose care she was immediately consigned was a vain and dissipated woman, who had no greater pleasure than in spending the fortune, laboriously acquired by her industrious spouse, in all the various amus.e.m.e.nts the metropolis presents to the idle and extravagant part of the community; and although she was what is generally termed a very good-natured woman, yet the moment her schemes of diversion or expense were thwarted, she could be as pettish, sullen, or even vulgar and violent, as the lowest servant. She piqued herself on being a woman of family, and when little Miss Holdup came into her household, the first care she took with her was to eradicate, as far as possible, the memory of her parents, and all their former connections, from her mind.--"My dear child, now you are, by great good fortune, got into a gentleman's family, remember you must never mention those creatures in the city your mamma used to visit. I must have no cheese-factor cousins introduced at my table; no, nor even the great linen-draper's daughter that gave you the doll; you have money enough to buy dolls of your own, and must have no more concern with those kind of people now."

"But," said the child, "I suppose I may talk about Miss Turner and her sister Anne, because they nursed me through the measles, and my father said I must always be grateful--I suppose he meant thankful, ma'am, for their kindness."