RACHEL. 
 
'*'. Miller, Printer, Noble Street, Cheapside. 
 
It A C H ]B IL . 
 
 Us ked April 21,2817, by Tayhr a.7i3Ifc'sseifJ : 7&tJfr<?et. 
 
RACHEL: 
 
 - Be cared 
 
 Of this diseased opinion, and betimes; 
 For 'tis moit dangerous. 
 
 Shaktpeare. 
 
 SECOND EDITION. 
 
 LONDON : 
 
 PRINTED FOR TAYLOR AND HESSEY, 
 93, FLEET STREET. 
 
 1818. 
 
IQAN STAC& 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 You say, my good friend, it is absolutely 
 necessary that I should write a Preface; 
 now, for my part, I own I cannot see 
 why : the world will be able to judge my 
 work without my help ; and, indeed, if it 
 were not, I could afford it but little as- 
 sistance ; since modesty would prevent my 
 extolling the merits of my own perform- 
 ance, and self-love as imperiously forbid 
 my being the first to cry it down. Indeed, 
 were I at the onset to assure my readers, 
 that it was a composition of the greatest 
 absurdity they ever met with, many might 
 
be inclined (as Goldsmith expresses it) to 
 take me at my word, and decline the pe- 
 rusal altogether; while others, who were 
 disposed to judge for themselves, might, 
 perchance, accuse me of that most insuf- 
 ferable affectation, of painting things worse 
 than the reality, in order to attract praise 
 by the contrast. 
 
 Now, such a motive I utterly disclaim ; 
 and, on the contrary, will venture to assure 
 those who may chance to be contented 
 with a plain story and probable events, 
 that they will find both in the following 
 pages. That most of the characters are 
 taken from life may, perhaps, be an in 
 ducement to some; and that all the in- 
 cidents are fictitious may, probably, be a 
 
recommendation to others. At the same 
 time, let me intreat the indulgence of all, 
 for the errors of a first attempt ; for such, 
 indeed, it is. And here my Preface must 
 inevitably conclude; for were I to write 
 for a century, I could say no more on the 
 subject. 
 
RACHEL. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 " I WISH I had not promised to go !" exclaim- 
 ed our hero, throwing aside a letter he had 
 received by that morning's post : " I shall be 
 tired to death before the end of the weekj 
 but/' continued he, after a long pause, " I 
 will go, and who knows (looking round his 
 solitary apartment with a kind of half sigh) 
 but I may find a wife amongst them." 
 
 The idea pleased him, for he was thirty, 
 and had long been desirous of * taking to 
 his bosom a wife/ " In the name of wonder, 
 why then did he not marry?" exclaims my fair 
 reader. Alas ! gentle lady, you have asked 
 an awkward question. Be not then offended 
 at the answer : He was too old to lose his 
 
 B 
 
2 RACHEL. 
 
 heart to a plume of white feathers, or a short- 
 waisted spencer. Frown not, I beseech you, 
 for in all probability he never knew you. 
 
 But to return to our hero. Anxious to 
 put his scheme in execution, he set off that 
 evening, and arrived safely the next day at 
 E The good people received him with 
 
 great hospitality, expressed their satisfaction 
 at seeing him, and endeavoured, by every 
 means in their power, to render their abode 
 agreeable to the stranger. Tomkins, for that 
 was our hero's name < Tomkins ! what a hi- 
 deous name!" Hush! must I apologise twice 
 in this short space. I do confess it is neither 
 romantic nor lover-like; but, alas ! why should 
 he be blamed? he chose it not, it was the 
 name of his ancestors, and descended to him 
 with his patrimony 
 
 Tomkins then, I say, had every reason to 
 be satisfied with the attentions of his host, who 
 had been the intimate friend of his father, and 
 in his last visit to London, had so earnestly 
 pressed the young man to favour him with his 
 company, that he had promised to visit E 
 in the spring j though, when the time ac- 
 tually arrived, as we have already seen, he 
 felt no great inclination for the journey j but 
 
RACHEL. 3 
 
 not being one of those who consider no cir- 
 cumstance of sufficient importance to be put 
 in competition with their own gratification, 
 he immediately complied with the summons 
 contained in the letter alluded to, though he 
 was going to a place he had never seen, and 
 his sole inducement was to please an old man 
 and woman, the only beings with whom he 
 was acquainted. 
 
 The day following his arrival being Sun- 
 day, Tomkins, who was a man of sober habits, 
 accompanied the family to church. Mr. Simp- 
 son's pew, though a large one, could not con- 
 veniently admit our hero 5 for as the family 
 was so small, general permission had been 
 given to some aged females to occupy the 
 vacant seats, whose constant attendance had 
 now rendered their appearance as familiar as 
 that of the owners. Tomkins, with his na- 
 tural good breeding, begged he might not 
 disturb the ladies 5 and whether it was owing to 
 the true Lacedemonian spirit, which prompted 
 this attention to the aged females, cannot be 
 exactly told, but certain it is, he followed the 
 pew-opener to a seat at some distance, with- 
 out any visible marks of regret 3 though the 
 pew he had left was comfortably lined, and 
 
4 RACHEL. 
 
 contained a snug corner out of sight of the 
 parson. 
 
 Having taken his seat, curiosity induced 
 him to examine his companions. The eldest 
 was a middle-aged woman, in whose face might 
 be read marks of a strong understanding, mix- 
 ed with great reserve $ indeed it was generally 
 observed by those who were not intimate with 
 her, that she was very proud. The second, 
 though indeed the first that attracted the notice 
 of our visitor, was much younger : to a tall 
 genteel figure, she added a remarkably interest- 
 ing countenance $ and asTomkins gazed on the 
 pensive expression of her eyes, he thought he 
 had at last found the wife he had so long ben 
 seeking. The third, and last of the party, ap- 
 peared as if intended for a foil to her com- 
 panion : she was tall, stout, and awkward in 
 her appearance 3 while her face, devoid of all 
 pretensions to beauty, expressed nothing to 
 excite either interest or admiration. It will 
 readily be supposed, that this last-mentioned 
 object engrossed but little of the attention of 
 Tomkins, and that he earnestly wished to in- 
 quire of his friends the name and residence of 
 the interesting girl, to extend his acquaint* 
 ance, if possible, beyond the parting bow. 
 
RACHEL. 5 
 
 With these ideas occupying his mind, the 
 service began, and strange as it may appear, 
 Tomkins withdrew his thoughts so entirely 
 from the scene around him, that in all proba- 
 bility he had not bestowed another glance on 
 his companions, had not the fair object of his 
 former contemplations, either from a sudden 
 visit from Morpheus, an involuntary motion 
 of the hand, or some other cause, dropped her 
 book $ Tomkins instantly stooped to raise it, 
 when, judge of his astonishment and dismay! 
 he beheld a Latin Testament. Consterna- 
 tion chained all his faculties ; he gazed two 
 full seconds before he could prevail on himself 
 to touch it $ at length raising it by the ex- 
 treme corner, he presented it with the worst 
 grace imaginable, and really looked and felt 
 as if relieved from some noxious animal) 
 while his desire of a further acquaintance was 
 greatly abated. When, however, his first sur- 
 prise at this unexpected discovery had sub- 
 sided, his curiosity increased, and for the first 
 time in his life he felt inclined to renounce the 
 prejudice he had cherished so many years 
 against learned ladies 5 for Tomkins was one 
 of those unreasonable beings, who expect to 
 
6 RACHEL. 
 
 find women well informed, who never studied 
 the classics 5 and most profoundly ignorant of 
 Euclid and Archimedes, without believing the 
 wonderful effects produced by them to be the 
 work of magic, It is true, he had hitherto 
 been disappointed in his search, but such fas- 
 tidious people are seldom pleased -, and he 
 would have found it hard to say, whether the 
 open-mouthed idiotic stare of wonder disgust- 
 ed him more than a lecture on causes and 
 effects, pronounced in the most elegant lan- 
 guage by a more enlightened female. 
 
 Having, however, resolved not to pass 
 judgment too hastily, he inquired of Mr. 
 Simpson, on their return home, if he was 
 acquainted with the ladies with whom he 
 had sat ? 
 
 <f Perfectly,** he replied 3 ( but what opi- 
 nion have you formed of them ? " 
 
 (f That one is very proud, another very 
 pretty, and the third most incorrigibly stupid." 
 
 ft Alas, poor Rachel ! '* cried Mr. Simpson, 
 laughing 5 " *tis well for you, young man, 
 my wife did .not hear you : Rachel is her 
 favourite, and I would advise you to say no- 
 thing of this kind in her hearing.'* 
 
RACHEL. 7 
 
 Tomkins promised obedience, and was 
 proceeding to make farther inquiries, when 
 Mr. Simpson interrupted him. 
 
 " It is my intention," said he, " to intro- 
 duce you at the Lodge, and give you an op- 
 portunity of judging for yourself ; in the mean 
 time let me caution you against being preju- 
 diced by their appearance, for they all require 
 to be known" 
 
 The entrance of dinner put an end to the 
 conversation, and the rest of the day passed in 
 viewing the grounds. 
 
 The following morning, as they were seat- 
 ed at breakfast, Mr. Simpson invited his guest 
 to share his morning walk. " Business," he 
 added, " obliges me to call on my friend Jen- 
 kins, and I intend, if they are not otherwise 
 engaged, to prevail on him and his family to 
 dine with us to-morrow." 
 
 " Very well, my dear," replied his wife 5 
 " and suppose you were to call at the Lodge, 
 and tell our friends there that we shall be 
 glad to see them." 
 
 " A very excellent thought," rejoined he, 
 and smiling at Tomkins, he added, " you will 
 have no objection. Did you know," he con- 
 
8 RACHEL. 
 
 tinued, turning to his wife, " that Sophia 
 Miller has stolen our friend's heart 2" 
 
 Mrs. Simpson smiled. " Sophia is, I be- 
 lieve, a good sort of young woman/' said she, 
 "but-" 
 
 " You like Rachel better, interrupted her 
 husband. 
 
 " I do," replied the old lady 5 " though 
 that is not what I was going to say." 
 
 " Well, well, my dear," said Mr. Simpson, 
 rising, e< many people, many tastes as the 
 old proverb saysj" and taking Tomkins by 
 the arm, the gentlemen departed. 
 
 " It may not be amiss," said Mr. Simpson, 
 addressing his friend, " to give you some ac- 
 count of the family we are going to call upon. 
 Jenkins is one of the richest farmers in our 
 neighbourhood, and though somewhat in- 
 clined to good eating, is a worthy man in his 
 way. Mrs. Jenkins (though no favourite of 
 my wife's) is well received in most of the 
 families about us 5 some people, it is true, 
 pretend to meet her advances very coldly, and 
 indeed, a degree of caution is necessary to be 
 used towards her, for the poor woman is sub- 
 ject to an infirmity that often occasions some 
 perplexity to her friends." 
 
RACHEL. 9 
 
 ** But surely/' said Tomkins, with warmth, 
 <f she is rather to be pitied than condemned 
 on that account." 
 
 " Not exactly," replied Mr. Simpson, " for 
 it grows upon her by indulgence 5 and it is 
 said, that had care been taken to check it in 
 its infancy, she probably had not now felt the 
 slightest inconvenience from it; in short, she 
 is troubled with a most voluble tongue, and, 
 unfortunately, having nothing to do but at- 
 tend to the concerns of her neighbours, not 
 the most minute circumstance can occur, but 
 she is instantly acquainted with all the parti- 
 culars." 
 
 "What a dangerous character!'* said 
 Tomkins ; " she must inevitably be the cause 
 of endless misunderstandings?" 
 
 <e Such consequences might naturally be 
 expected," returned his friend, " but her dis- 
 position is now so well known, that strangers 
 only are likely to suffer from it." 
 
 " Good Heaven ! " exclaimed Tomkins, 
 " can it be possible, that a rational creature, 
 for the sake of indulging so childish a pro- 
 pensity, can voluntarily expose herself to the 
 contempt of all who know her ?" 
 
 Without noticing this apostrophe, Mr. 
 
 B 5 
 
10 RACHEL. 
 
 Simpson continued " Human nature, my 
 young friend, has long been your favourite 
 study 5 but I think I am now introducing a 
 character to your notice which you have never 
 before met with. Large cities, though un- 
 doubtedly affording the most ample means for 
 observations of this nature, do not give op- 
 portunities to a disposition like that of Mrs. 
 Jenkins to display its talents $ it is only in a 
 town or village, where it can claim acquaint- 
 ance with every inhabitant, that it is seen to 
 advantage." 
 
 " What family have they ? " demanded 
 Tomkins. 
 
 t Three daughters, good-natured, every- 
 day sort of girls," replied Mr. Simpson $ " but 
 we are arrived j and, although I am not in 
 the habit of betting, yet I will take any even 
 wager, that before you again pass this thresh- 
 old you will have informed the good lady 
 when and whence you came." 
 
 ec I am not usually very indulgent to idle 
 curiosity," replied Tomkins, " and you have 
 given me an additional motive for my non- 
 compliance. 1 ' 
 
 ( I do not doubt your inclination, but 
 your ability to resist her inquiries." 
 
RACHEL. 11 
 
 " Surely I am master of my tongue." 
 
 " We shall see/' said Mr. Simpson, rap- 
 ping at the door. Mr, Jenkins was not at 
 home, but the lady of the mansion received 
 them very cordially $ probably the hope of 
 learning the birth, parentage, and education 
 of the stranger, whose appearance at church 
 the preceding day had so greatly astonished 
 her, contributed not a little to the kind recep- 
 tion they met with. 
 
 A few moments served for the introduction 
 of our hero ; and Mr. Simpson having ex- 
 pressed his regret at the absence of his friend, 
 concluded with intreating the ladies to honour 
 his abode with their presence the ensuing 
 day. 
 
 Mrs. Jenkins, in pursuance of her usual 
 custom of never refusing an invitation, im- 
 mediately complied; and the young ladies, 
 pleased with the appearance of Tomkins, 
 which did not exactly agree with his name, 
 made no objection. 
 
 Unwilling to allow so propitious an oppor- 
 tunity to escape, and seeing no probability of 
 gaining the desired information unasked, Mrs. 
 Jenkins at length turned abruptly to Tomkins, 
 
12 RACHEL, 
 
 and demanded, if he was not a stranger in that 
 part of the country ? 
 
 Tomkins, fully resolved to disappoint his 
 friend's prediction, merely bowed. But the 
 lady was too deeply skilled in her art to suffer 
 a circumstance that would have repressed the 
 spirit of inquiry in another, to have any 
 effect upon her; and without appearing to 
 notice Tomkins's evident reserve, though, in 
 fact, it almost threw her into a fever of im- 
 patience to know the cause, she remarked, 
 < It was very extraordinary she had never 
 heard that Mrs. Mason expected company." 
 
 Tomkins, who could not perceive how this 
 speech could at all concern him, made no 
 answer. 
 
 " But, I presume/' continued she, " you 
 are related ? " 
 
 Tomkins, thus called upon for an answer, 
 replied, " He had not that honour." 
 
 " Well, really," exclaimed Mrs. Jenkins, 
 " it is very unaccountable 5 I do not suppose 
 such a thing was ever known in the memory 
 of the oldest inhabitant} I am sure I pity 
 those two poor girls with all my heart, but 
 the 1 re is no advising Mrs. Mason ; I am sure 
 
RACHEL. 13 
 
 I have tried often enough, but to little pur- 
 pose, you will believe, when I tell you, that 
 no gentlemen are ever admitted within her 
 walls, but the vicar and Mr. Simpson : but 
 what else can one expect," in a lowered voice, 
 " from an old maid ? " 
 
 Tomkins, by this time, began to conjecture 
 that the Mrs. Mason alluded to could be no 
 other than his church acquaintance, and know- 
 ing that the two ladies were to meet the next 
 day, saw the necessity of undeceiving the 
 loquacious Mrs. Jenkins ; and therefore ob- 
 served, " that so far from having any know- 
 ledge of Mrs.Mason,his acquaintance in E 
 
 was confined to Mr. Simpson and herself." 
 
 The affairs of the nation were never of 
 more consequence in the eyes of politicians, 
 than the concerns of her neighbours were in 
 those of Mrs. Jenkins $ nor could the most 
 important question that was ever debated, oc- 
 casion a greater appearance of perplexity than 
 that which overspread her countenance at this 
 information, while in an almost peevish tone 
 she asked " if she had not seen him in Mrs. 
 Mason's pew ?*' 
 
 Tomkins, weary of endeavouring to baffle 
 her inquiries, and hoping to put an end to the 
 
14 RACHEL. 
 
 subject, explained the circumstance ; but the 
 lady was by no means so disposed, and put 
 our hero's patience to the test, by asking, <e if 
 he had been long in E ? " 
 
 Almost out of temper at her perseverance, 
 he was on the point of returning a most un- 
 courteous "No $ " when chancing to encounter 
 an expressive glance from Mr. Simpson, he 
 changed his intention, and willing to mislead 
 her, bowed an affirmative. Bowing was a 
 language she never chose to understand, and 
 provoked at his taciturnity, she resolved to 
 exert her utmost art to bring him to confes- 
 sion. With an air of the greatest indifference 
 she remarked, " That the little presence of 
 mind evinced by even very sensible people, on 
 trifling occasions, had often excited her great- 
 est surprise." 
 
 Tomkins stared with unfeigned astonish- 
 ment 5 he felt conscious that her impertinent 
 curiosity had betrayed him into something re- 
 sembling ill humour, but he had shown little 
 command of his temper indeed, if he had suf- 
 fered it to appear 5 and if he had not, how 
 could she discover she had irritated him ? For 
 a moment he was almost tempted to think he 
 had encountered a dabbler in witchcraft. 
 
RACHEL. 15 
 
 In this, however, he was guilty of great 
 injustice, for the lady possessed very little 
 knowledge of any kind, much less of an art so 
 intricate, and requiring so much study as the 
 black one 5 and when Tomkins avowed his 
 ignorance of her meaning, she speedily re- 
 moved his suspicions by informing him, that 
 she merely alluded to the circumstance of a 
 bat, which had fallen from the roof of the 
 church during the service, to the great terror 
 and amazement of the congregation, many of 
 whom forthwith fell into hysterics, which 
 caused a considerable interruption to the ser- 
 vice. " Pray, sir," she continued, " did you 
 ever in your life see such a scene of confu- 
 sion ? " 
 
 " Really, madam, I cannot give an opinion 
 on the subject,'* replied he, ee as the circum- 
 stance must have occurred before my arrival." 
 
 " Indeed !" cried Mrs. Jenkins: <f I under- 
 stood you, you had been here some time 5 why, 
 it was but yesterday week since it happened.*' 
 
 Tomkins coloured to the ears. Could he 
 have foreseen the snare that was spread for 
 him, he might easily have avoided it j but he 
 had now not only revealed that he had not re- 
 sided a week in the village, but had acknow- 
 
16 RACHEL. 
 
 ledged he had been guilty of a subterfuge, if 
 not of an actual falsehood. There is some- 
 thing so repugnant to an ingenuous mind, in 
 the idea of being known to have stooped to 
 deceit, that though Tomkins entertained the 
 most sovereign contempt for Mrs. Jenkins, 
 and knew the affair would be but a source of 
 laughter to his friend, yet at the moment he 
 would have given a trifle to have been fairly 
 out of the house ; and when, on glancing 
 round, he perceived the look of self-compla- 
 cency that sat on the features of Mrs. Jenkins, 
 as if she had brought some laudable scheme 
 to perfection, the cool sarcastic smile of Mr. 
 Simpson, and above all, the unmeaning sim- 
 per of the young ladies, his situation became 
 intolerable, and starting from his seat, he un- 
 ceremoniously demanded of his friend if he 
 had not some other calls to make. 
 
 Mr. Simpson took the hint, and wishing 
 the ladies a good morning, followed Tomkins 
 out of the house, leaving Mrs. Jenkins undis- 
 puted master of the field. 
 
 ft Well," said Mr. Simpson, as they con- 
 tinued their walk, " am I to congratulate you 
 on your victory ?'* 
 
 " If you had not known how the action 
 
RACHEL. 17 
 
 had ended, you might have insulted the feel- 
 ings of a fallen foe by such a question ; but 
 while I own myself conquered, I must beg 
 leave to accuse you of great want of generosity 
 in never offering to exert the slightest interest 
 in my favour, but abandoning me to my fate, 
 though you were aware of my danger, and 
 saw me on the brink of the precipice long be- 
 fore I fell." 
 
 " Remember your boasts, young man $ 
 you despised the counsels of age, and would 
 buy experience for yourself 5 and on the whole 
 it may not be considered very unfortunate, as 
 you will now perceive the contrast of cha- 
 racter with which 1 am about to present you, 
 in much greater force than you would other- 
 wise have done.'* 
 
 " But may I not be favoured with some de- 
 scription of these characters?" asked Tomkins. 
 
 "" The account I shall give you will be 
 very confined," replied Mr. Simpson, " as I 
 wish you to judge of the young folks your- 
 self 5 but Mrs. Mason is what the world in 
 general call a respectable character j that is, 
 she pays her debts, goes to church, and makes 
 no mischief." 
 
 " But are there not many positive duties 
 
18 RACHEL. 
 
 that cannot be classed under any of these 
 heads r 
 
 " I am not going to inquire very closely 
 into her moral character," replied Mr. Simp- 
 son 3 " I merely tell you what the world say. 
 People in general pry no farther on this head 
 than affects their own interest -, and while she 
 * pays her way/ few will be found desirous 
 of becoming her father confessor." 
 
 " I believe you are right, " said Tomkins, 
 thoughtfully 5 " but is this your opinion of 
 her." 
 
 f( Certainly not,'* answered he j " though 
 Mrs. Mason must be known long to be rightly 
 estimated, for in society she is very reserved. 
 I believe her to be an excellent woman ; and 
 though the portion of virtues I have allotted her 
 appears to you so scanty, while opposed to many 
 I haveknown, they would constitute a virtuous 
 character. yet I believe her to possess many, 
 and far more estimable qualities ; and were I 
 to pass my judgment upon her, I should say, 
 she is the friend of her neighbour, and the 
 servant of her God. She is one of three sisters : 
 the other two married early in life $ the one a 
 clergyman, the other a tradesman. Mrs. Ma- 
 son for many years kept a boarding-school - } 
 
RACHEL. .. / 19 
 
 and the charge of so many young persons, 
 added to her natural disposition, has given a 
 reserve to her manners that is often mistaken 
 for pride. Having amassed a handsome pro- 
 perty in this situation, she retired to our vil- 
 lage ; when finding the hours hang heavy on 
 her hands, for want of her accustomed em- 
 ployment, she wrote to each of her sisters, 
 requesting them to permit their eldest daugh- 
 ters to reside with her $ which request being 
 complied with, they have remained with her 
 ever since. Time has changed the appellation 
 of Miss into Mrs. and here ends my account 
 of Mrs. Mason." 
 
 This discourse brought them to the gate of 
 that lady's abode, and a few minutes more 
 into her presence. They found her knitting 
 stockings, somewhat coarse for her own wear, 
 though very suitable for a labouring man, 
 Miss Miller copying a beautiful group of flow- 
 ers, and Rachel seated in a corner mending a 
 sheet. 
 
 The usual salutations of the morning hav- 
 ing passed, Mr. Simpson said, (e I am afraid 
 1 am trespassing on your goodness by bringing 
 my friend unasked, but " 
 
 fs Pardon me," interrupted Mrs. Mason, 
 
20 RACHEL. 
 
 " though I am not in the habit of receiving 
 gentlemen as visitors, yet with Mr. Simpson 
 any friend of his will be welcome," and she 
 bowed to Tomkins. 
 
 He bowed in return, though he was not 
 determined whether to consider it a compli- 
 ment or not, for the lady's manners seemed 
 very strongly to wish him away. The girls 
 exchanged a glance, which seemed to express 
 'Tis always her way. Sophia laid an un- 
 lucky shade on a flower ; Rachel pricked her 
 finger in threading her needle but this might 
 be accidental. 
 
 Mr. Simpson entered into conversation 
 with Mrs. Mason $ and Tomkins, thinking to 
 employ himself more agreeably, turned to 
 Sophia, and having admired her performance, 
 remarked, <f that undoubtedly she must be 
 fond of an art in which she so greatly ex- 
 celled." 
 
 Sophia blushed $ she had been pleased with 
 the appearance of Tomkins, at church, and 
 scarcely knowing why, had thought of little 
 else all the morning. The manner in which 
 he had presented her book was certainly by 
 no means prepossessing $ yet still she fancied 
 he had noticed her, and her vanity was flattered. 
 
KA.CHEL. 21 
 
 She was, therefore, very well disposed to re- 
 ceive his compliment with civility, and an- 
 swered, (f He judged rightly, that she was 
 very much attached to it." 
 
 " Do you ever attempt landscape?" in- 
 quired Tomkins. 
 
 " Very seldom," was the reply. 
 
 t I am rather surprised at that 5 for beauti- 
 ful as Nature is in all her works, she can pre- 
 sent nothing in the form of flowers, that can 
 be compared to the endless variety afforded by 
 an interesting landscape. These flowers are 
 beautiful, and delight our eye 5 but landscapes 
 do more they mingle the sublime with the 
 beautiful 5 and if taken from nature, raise in 
 the mind love and admiration of the works of 
 the Creator." 
 
 " I am quite of your opinion," returned 
 Sophia ; <( but I have not had sufficient in- 
 struction to enable me^to enjoy so great a 
 gratification j yet, believe me, the feelings you 
 mention are not unknown to me. Often have 
 I stood for hours, on a calm summer's even- 
 ing, to contemplate the varied scene presented 
 to my view, till all my faculties have been ab- 
 sorbed in delight, and I have regretted to have 
 been obliged to awake from the enchanting 
 delusion." 
 
22 RACHEL^ 
 
 Rachel, who for some time had been shut 
 out from all conversation, and had sat looking 
 wistfully at her work without presuming to 
 touch it, now grew tired of her situation, and 
 cried out to Sophia, " Pray, cousin, are you 
 describing the Elysian fields ?" 
 
 " I am describing my own feelings on a 
 summer's evening," replied the discomfited 
 Sophia. 
 
 " 1 do not know how it happens," said 
 Rachel, " but I never felt such feelings in my 
 life." 
 
 " And believe me, Rachel, you never will, 
 unless you discontinue your present employ- 
 ments," returned her cousin. 
 
 " Why, really, I cannot promise to do that, 
 unless you will promise not to give me any 
 further occasion for such employments : how- 
 ever, I do think I will try, the first fine night, 
 if I have finished my work, otherwise I can- 
 not spare time/* 
 
 Sophia, with her neck and face glowing 
 v/ith indignation, turned away, while Tomkins 
 could scarcely refrain from uttering an excla- 
 mation of disgust. 
 
 Mr. Simpson's rising was the signal of 
 departure, and Tomkins took leave of the 
 
RACHEL. 23 
 
 party with a variety of sensations, among 
 the strongest of which was aversion to poor 
 Rachel. 
 
 On their return home, Mrs. Simpson in- 
 formed them that the vicar had called during 
 their absence, and that she had prevailed on 
 him to join their party the next day. 
 
$4 RACHEL, 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 THE company, when assembled the following 
 day in Mr. Simpson's drawing-room, consist- 
 ed of Tomkins, the hospitable owners of the 
 mansion, the vicar of St. Christopher, Mrs. 
 Jenkins and her daughters, Mrs. Mason, her 
 nieces, and a young man, a relation of Mrs. 
 Simpson, whom the good lady, though no 
 match-maker in general, had destined for her 
 favourite Rachel. Their dispositions indeed ap- 
 peared very suitable, for young Clarkson was 
 universally noted for his stupidity $ and what 
 was very remarkable, and might have misled 
 more profound judges than Mrs, Simpson, 
 Rachel never talked so much to, or appeared 
 so much at ease with any one as Mr. Clarkson : 
 yet, notwithstanding his presence, she would 
 gladly have foregone her visit, when on enter- 
 ing the room she beheld the vicar. Nothing 
 can more effectually repress the natural spirits 
 than timidity, and Rachel never appeared to 
 
RACHEL. 35 
 
 so little ad vantage as in the presence of the vicar. 
 In all company she was so remarkably silent, 
 that her acquaintance had long since agreed, 
 that she could be but little short of an idiot ; 
 for as a woman's inclination to talk was never 
 disputed in any age, a far more fallacious con- 
 clusion might have been drawn, than that if 
 she was silent it was from want of ability. 
 But besides this habitual silence, her manners 
 were more than usually awkward when the 
 divine was present 5 and as Rachel possessed 
 sense enough to be conscious of this, his ap- 
 pearance, in any of the parties to which she was 
 invited, never gave her that gratification which 
 perhaps she ought to have experienced. On 
 this occasion she was more than usually dis- 
 pleased at beholding him ; probably because 
 Mr. Clarkson was of the party j or, as coquetry 
 is said to be the inmate of every female breast, 
 she might wish to appear agreeable in the eyes 
 of Mr, Tornkins. Be this as it may, she took 
 her seat without uttering a word 5 and fixing 
 her eyes on the carpet, remained an excellent 
 representative of a statue. 
 
 Shortly after their arrival, dinner was an- 
 nounced j and as good eating generally super- 
 sedes good conversation, little more transpired 
 
 C 
 
26 RACHEL. 
 
 than what the objects before them gave rise to. 
 Rachel, who was placed at the bottom, next 
 Mr. Simpson, seemed somewhat more in her 
 element 5 and Tomkins, wondering what could 
 have induced her to open her lips, tried in 
 vain to catch some part of their discourse. 
 " She can talk, however, 1 * thought he, " and 
 I will certainly endeavour to find out about 
 what." 
 
 Dinner being ended, and the ladies with- 
 drawn, Tomkins remarked, " that Mr. Simp- 
 son possessed an art that was unknown to the 
 rest of the company." 
 
 " And pray what may that be ? " asked Mr, 
 Simpson $ " for if it be transferable I will 
 willingly communicate it." 
 
 " It is an art for which I should suppose 
 you -cannot have much practice : I mean the 
 secret of inducing a lady to open her lips." 
 
 " Oh ! I comprehend you," said Mr. Simp- 
 son ; " but I assure you it is by no means so 
 great a secret as you imagine. My friend 
 Clarkson will be a far better instructor than my- 
 self 5 for, I assure you, he can make the lady in 
 question converse with great fluency." 
 
 " I am sure I don't know how it is," said 
 Mr. Clarkson, whose vanity was tickled at the 
 
RACHEL. 27 
 
 idea of being able to perform what Tomkins 
 had tacitly acknowledged his inability to do -, 
 " I believe she is very fond of talking to me $ 
 but to tell you the truth, sir, if you want to 
 make her talk, you have only to tell her a 
 story about your coat being nailed to the 
 wall, while you were looking into a picture 
 shop in London, as mine was once, and, do 
 you know, she never lets me hear the last 
 of it." 
 
 Tomkins having no inclination to prolong 
 such interesting discourse, turned to the vicar, 
 and asked his opinion on some important pub- 
 lic business ; when, the conversation taking a 
 political turn, the attention of three of the 
 gentlemen was entirely engrossed ; while Mr. 
 Clarkson, not understanding a word that was 
 spoken, with great difficulty kept himself 
 awake till they were summoned to tea. 
 
 On joining the ladies, Tomkins perceived 
 Rachel in earnest conversation with Miss Jen- 
 kins at a window, and approaching them, he 
 asked, " if he might be permitted to interrupt 
 their <&>-<*-<&." 
 
 " Oh, yes, pray do," cried Miss Jenkins, 
 
 highly delighted to attract the attention of the 
 
 'Londoner 5 te for I am almost tired to death : 
 
28 RACHEL. 
 
 Miss Porter has done nothing but moralize this 
 half hour." 
 
 " Miss Porter moralizing ! " exclaimed 
 Tomkins, scarcely able to repress a smile 5 
 ff may I inquire on what subject/* 
 
 " It is not worth repeating," said Rachel, 
 hastily 5 " I am sorry I have tired you, Miss 
 Jenkins 3" and retiring from the window, she 
 seated herself by Mrs. Simpson. 
 
 Tomkins was disappointed : he had joined 
 them with the hope of discovering something 
 of Rachel's character 5 it appeared to him an 
 extraordinary, though a disagreeable one, and 
 he was fond of contemplating any thing that 
 had oddity to recommend it : but he had no 
 such intention towards Miss Jenkins; for he 
 saw at once, that she was one of those common- 
 place beings, known by the name of young 
 ladies. No alternative, however, remained, 
 and he was obliged to entertain his companion 
 with such conversation as he thought most 
 suitable to the occasion $ namely, a description 
 of the last fashions, which, as he was not a 
 very exact observer, and seldom remembered 
 what he did observe, might have served nearly 
 as well for the year 1700 j while Miss Jenkins, 
 with a heart beating high with delight, cast a 
 
RACHEL. 29 
 
 look of triumph round the room. Her sisters 
 pretended not to make any observations on 
 the subject. Sophia bit her lip in silence, 
 and Rachel chatted quietly With Mr. Clarkson. 
 The tea service being at length removed, and 
 the evening proving uncommonly fine, a walk 
 round the grounds was proposed, and unani- 
 mously agreed to. 
 
 Miss Jenkins, who looked upon Tomkins 
 as her property for the evening, passed her arm 
 through his, with an assurance that would 
 have done credit to the most finished fine lady 
 about town. The deplorable ignorance of her 
 neighbours was so great, that many had gone 
 so far as to say, that Miss Jenkins's conduct 
 was a disgrace to her family. Ignorant rus- 
 tics! little did they imagine, that the manners 
 they so much condemned were considered as 
 marks of a genteel education, and had been 
 purchased at a great expense at a London 
 boarding-school. 
 
 Tomkins, who was not a total stranger to 
 such manoeuvres, though greatly surprised to 
 find them so far removed from what he had 
 always considered their proper sphere, sub- 
 mitted with so good a grace, that he afforded 
 no room for the lady to suppose he was not 
 
30 RACHEL. 
 
 perfectly delighted with her condescension 5 
 though, in fact, he was heartily tired of her 
 company ; for Miss Jenkins having accidentally 
 heard, that great confidence in one's own 
 judgment was particularly disgusting in a 
 female, had adopted a contrary course of beha- 
 viour; and though every look and action 
 plainly shewed she was at perfect peace with 
 her own opinion, yet was she so amiably diffi- 
 dent, that it was with great difficulty she 
 could determine whether her tea was suffi- 
 ciently sweet, without asking Tomkins's opi- 
 nion : it was, therefore, scarcely possible to 
 address her, without being tormented for an 
 opinion on subjects so trifling as would scarcely 
 admit of any $ and Tomkins, who had eagerly 
 seconded the motion of the walk, in hopes of 
 getting rid of this teasing companion, saw 
 himself fixed for the evening, unless some un- 
 expected circumstance released him. 
 
 Sophia, the gentle, the interesting Sophia, 
 was committed to the care of Clarkson, but 
 Rachel was disengaged $ and disagreeable as 
 he thought her, she would still have been a 
 change : but the case was desperate, and ad- 
 mitted of no remedy. The other Miss Jen- 
 kins's walked with Rachel j the vicar and Mr. 
 
RACHEL. 31 
 
 Simpson talked of some parish business $ and 
 the three elderly ladies discussed the affairs of 
 their neighbours, that is to say, Mrs. Jenkins 
 talked, and the others listened : but as silence 
 is said to give consent, had the lady-orator 
 been asked the question, she would undoubt- 
 edly have said they all talked $ for though no 
 one could have a more decided preference for 
 the sound of their own voice, or bear the in- 
 terruption of another with less patience, still, 
 as she had more than once found the ill effects 
 arising from the said propensity, she was al- 
 ways willing to allow her friends the credit of 
 contributing their share to the entertainment, 
 that in case of an emergency she might have 
 another pair of shoulders to assist in sustaining 
 the burden. 
 
 They had proceeded some time in this 
 order, when a part of the grounds which was 
 separated from the high road only by some 
 pales, afforded an opportunity, to a poor sickly- 
 looking woman, to solicit the party for alms* 
 
 " Poor soul !" cried Miss Jenkins, shrink- 
 ing behind Tomkins $ " do, pray, give her six- 
 pence for me, and send her away." 
 
 " I have surely seen her before/' said Mrs. 
 Mason, interrupting Mrs. Jenkins in the most 
 
32 RACHEL, 
 
 Critical part of one of her choicest anecdotes : 
 " tell me/* she continued, addressing the 
 woman, " where do you live?" 
 
 " At the other end of the village," was the 
 reply. 
 
 " Indeed !" said Mrs. Mason, " I am sur- 
 prised " and suddenly checking herself, a 
 
 faint blush overspread her countenance 5 yet 
 it was not the blush of shame or anger it 
 was occasioned by having been on the point 
 of betraying how greatly the sorrows of her 
 poorer neighbours concerned her ; and as she 
 considered it a duty never to let the deeds of 
 her right hand be known by her left/ she 
 always most carefully guarded against the 
 slightest appearance of ostentation. She was 
 not, however, mistaken in supposing she had 
 seen the woman before; few of the poor inhabi- 
 sants were unknown to her, and her surprise 
 was great that she had not heard of her mis- 
 fortunes, She, however, made no remark on 
 the circumstance; and Mrs. Simpson, having 
 desired the woman to go round to the house, 
 went to see her supplied with food, while the 
 rest of the party walked on. 
 
 " Do you not tbink," said Miss Jenkins, 
 addressing her companion, " that sensibility 
 
RACHEL. 33 
 
 may be reckoned almost a misfortune to its 
 possessor? I am sure/' she continued, with- 
 out allowing him time to reply, " that I could 
 not have questioned the poor woman in the 
 manner Mrs. Mason did, for the world $ and, 
 though I do not doubt but she intended to re- 
 lieve her, yet I do not think any one has a 
 right to take advantage of poverty, to gratify 
 an idle curiosity." 
 
 Miss Jenkins, who was as great a manager 
 in her way as her mother, and intended this 
 speech as an unquestionable evidence of the 
 exquisite goodness of her heart, was greatly dis- 
 appointed at the effect it produced ; for Tom- 
 kins had marked the interest with which Mrs. 
 Mason had inquired into the concerns of the 
 woman $ and anger mingled with his con- 
 tempt, at the artful sophistry which thus en^ 
 deavoured, by giving a selfish motive to an 
 act of pure benevolence, to draw praise upon 
 itself. 
 
 " Though I concur with you," said he, 
 <e in thinking curiosity generally idle and im- 
 pertinent, and when carried to the extent of 
 wounding ihe feelings of another, absolutely 
 criminal $ yet I will venture to assert, that 
 
 c 5 
 
34 RACHEL. 
 
 the solicitude evinced by Mrs. Mason could 
 not be traced to any such motive 5 and true 
 sensibility, so far from shrinking from, would 
 rather have prompted such inquiries.'* 
 
 " I hate sensibility in all its moods and 
 tenses, as my cousin would say/' said Rachel, 
 stooping to remove a snail which was crawling 
 across the path. 
 
 " Surely the words are not suited to the 
 deed," thought Tomkins, as he regarded her 
 with a degree of complacency he had never 
 before felt towards her. 
 
 Miss Jenkins, who had not been very 
 much pleased with his last observation, and 
 willing to say any thing rather than remain 
 silent, since it might lead him to suppose he 
 had mortified her, exclaimed, " Bless me, 
 Miss Porter, how can you endure to touch 
 such vermin ! I declare the sight of such rep- 
 tiles always makes rne shudder." 
 
 <f And does sensibility teach you to crush 
 them to death with your foot, rather than save 
 their lives by touching them with your finger? " 
 asked Rachel. 
 
 Tomkins was astonished. The tone of her 
 voice might have been mistaken for sarcasm $ 
 
RACHEL. 35 
 
 but he was soon convinced of his error, for 
 when he looked at her, no such expression 
 could be read in her countenance. 
 
 " What a lovely evening ! " cried Sophia to 
 Mr. Clarkson 5 " how beautifully the setting 
 sun tinges the ambient clouds ! " 
 
 "Ah! it's a very fine sight," said Mr. 
 Clarkson, intending to be particularly com- 
 plaisant 5 (t that cloud to the right is as red 
 as our parlour curtains/' 
 
 " Or a fire, after it has been well blown/' 
 added Rachel. 
 
 The accent the manner in which this was 
 uttered, appeared so natural, that Tomkins's 
 old prejudice returned in full force. " Wretch- 
 ed ignorance ! " thought he : " how could I for 
 a moment suppose this girl had sense enough 
 to be satirical ! " 
 
 Some of the ladies complaining of cold, 
 caused the whole party to return to the house $ 
 when, as it wanted some time to the supper- 
 hour, cards and music were introduced to pass 
 away the time. Miss Jenkins, her sisters, and 
 Sophia, had successively performed, when 
 Tomkins rose to lead Rachel to the instru- 
 ment. 
 
36 RACHEL. 
 
 " I don't play/' said she, declining his of- 
 fered hand. 
 
 " What, in the name of wonder, can you 
 do ? f ' thought he, resuming his seat. 
 
 " Pray, sir," he said, addressing the vicar, 
 <e may I inquire your opinion of Miss Porter ? " 
 
 " Really I have not troubled myself to 
 form one respecting her. She is one of those 
 many insignificant beings, who bring so much 
 discredit on the sex : her best qualification is, 
 that she is too harmless to do much evil, and 
 her intellect is too weak to suffer her to do 
 much good." 
 
 " You are, I think, rather severe upon the 
 sex," said Tomkins. 
 
 " I think not," returned the vicar 5 " I 
 consider the abilities of women, in many in- 
 stances, equal, if not superior, to ours 5 but at 
 the same time I am of opinion, that the light 
 and frivolous part of the sex will go to greater 
 lengths of absurdity than any among us." 
 
 " But you cannot call Miss Porter a light 
 or frivolous character, at least I have seen no 
 instance of it." 
 
 It was an unfortunate speech 3 the vicar 
 had got on his favourite hobby-horse 3 and 
 had not Tomkins interrupted him, he would 
 

 RACHEL. 37 
 
 V 
 
 probably have harangued for an hour on the 
 subject. 
 
 " Pshaw ! " said he, impatiently, " that is 
 playing upon the words to little purpose : by 
 the light and frivolous part, I meant to include 
 all those who could not be ranked among the 
 intelligent $ and upon a fair calculation these 
 will be found considerably to exceed the others; 
 for though I do not think there are a great 
 number naturally deficient, yet I have no 
 doubt that by reckoning those, who by per- 
 verting their talents exclude themselves from 
 the intelligent list, you will find my statement 
 correct. The present plan of education is in- 
 deed very well calculated to remedy the evils, 
 by which this class of females are rendered so 
 insignificant, by giving them subjects more 
 worthy to engross their attention, by substi- 
 tuting Virgil and Horace for romance and 
 novel- read ing." 
 
 " But may not this be raising them as 
 much above their proper sphere, as the other 
 sinks them below it ? " demanded Tomkins. 
 
 f< I am tired," answered the vicar (though 
 very well pleased at having an opportunity of 
 going over the oft-trodden ground again) 
 " I am tired with endeavouring to confute an 
 
38 RACHEL. 
 
 opinion as mistaken as it is selfish, Why 
 should the page of science be denied them, if 
 they have the desire to peruse it ? Will it not 
 make them more intelligent and sensible com- 
 panions more worthy the attention of every 
 well-informed man ?" 
 
 These words caused a kind of uneasy sen- 
 sation in the mind of Tomkins. He did not 
 consider himself quite a fool, yet he was forced 
 to acknowledge that he never had felt any 
 great predilection for those very sensible wo- 
 men 5 and resolving to defend his favourite 
 position, he said., f( That notwithstanding the 
 great advantage the vicar appeared to think 
 arose from this system of education, he was 
 forced to lament many instances in which it 
 had proved an evil, in the possession of fe- 
 males." 
 
 f( I confess,*' said the vicar, " such in- 
 stances may be found ; but would it be gene- 
 rous, because some have proved unworthy, to 
 with-hold the advantage from the rest?" 
 
 " Jt may perhaps answer with some few 
 superior intellects," returned Tomkins ; " but 
 J can never think, while such instances occur, 
 that it will do as a general plan ; and, after 
 all, when they have acquired these accomplish- 
 

 RACHEL. 39 
 
 ments, which they gain by the neglect of what 
 was formerly considered an useful education, 
 we should not be pleased at seeing them in the 
 pulpit or at the bar. Where then can be the 
 use of qualifying them for stations which we 
 are not willing they should fill?" 
 
 Whether the vicar considered Tomkins as 
 too deficient in common sense to merit any 
 more attention, or remembered the well- 
 known couplet of Hudibras, and therefore re- 
 solved to give up the contention, is uncertain j 
 but willing to put an end to the dispute, he 
 said, " That during the infancy of any plan, 
 so opposite to old-established custom as the 
 one for which he contended, much resistance 
 might naturally be expected 5 and, as it was 
 impossible to convince the multitude of what 
 they did not understand, time alone could 
 settle the dispute." ^ 
 
 To this Tomkins readily agreed, not with- 
 out thinking that much mischief might be the 
 consequence of the experiment. 
 
 Mrs. Jenkins, who had sat silent much 
 longer than she liked, seeing no one, except So- 
 phia, disposed to attend to her, put an end to 
 her purgatory by admiring a set of figures that 
 ornamented the chimney-piece. 
 
4O RACHEL. 
 
 Sophia blushed. rr They do not/' said she, 
 " deserve so much commendation." 
 
 " Oh, now I am certain they are your per- 
 formance," cried Miss Jenkins, raising her 
 glass to her eye j " they are vastly pretty, but 
 will you give me leave to say " 
 
 (< You need not be at the trouble of point- 
 ing out the defects/' said Rachel, somewhat 
 rudely -, " my cousin never meant them to pass 
 for perfection." 
 
 Miss Jenkins laughed. She never allowed 
 herself to appear disconcerted ; and as she felt 
 rather at a loss for a smart repartee, nothing 
 was so easy as to laugh, which served, not 
 only to fill up the pause, and shew her white 
 teeth, but to prove with what sweetness she 
 could bear another's rudeness. 
 
 The unpolished manners of Rachel often 
 caused the ready blush to suffuse the cheek of 
 Sophia 5 and she endeavoured to palliate the 
 offence by saying, " I am sorry, Rachel, you 
 prevented Miss Jenkins from favouring me 
 with her opinion of my drawings $ for al- 
 though the friends for whom they were done 
 have amply repaid and gratified me by accept- 
 ing them, yet I am always thankful to those 
 
KACHBL. 41 
 
 who will take the trouble of pointing out the 
 errors with which they abound." 
 
 '* Oh> Miss Porter is quite right ! " exclaim- 
 ed Miss Jenkins 5 " I am no judge, I assure 
 youj but if you wish for a decision on their 
 merits, let us apply to the gentlemen." 
 
 " Do you consider, madam," said the vicar, 
 " that a gentleman is always unwilling to say 
 unpleasant things to the ladies, the conse- 
 quence of which is, that as we never blame, 
 we incur the charge of flattery $ pray reflect 
 again ere you condemn us to a task of so much 
 importance, as that of judging a lady's draw- 
 ing." It was a custom of the Reverend Mr. 
 Brown, whenever he had given utterance to 
 any thing he thought satirical, upon what he 
 termed the frivolities of women, to give notice 
 of such notion by a hearty laugh, in which he 
 expected his hearers to join $ but as it often 
 happened that some did riot understand, and 
 others did not relish his witticisms, he generally 
 had his laugh to himself. 
 
 While Miss Jenkins was in the act of re- 
 plying, they were summoned to supper $ soon 
 after which the party broke up and returned to 
 their respective abodes. 
 
 " I am glad we are at home again," said 
 
42 RACHEL, 
 
 Rachel, throwing herself with no very gentle 
 shock into the first seat she came to 5 " I wish 
 people would not invite me to meet Mr. Brown. 
 I never can enjoy myself where he is j and what 
 a prosing disagreeable man is that Tomkins !'* 
 
 fr 1 did not think him so," said Sophia ; 
 " you must allow him to be handsome, and 
 you cannot dispute his being a gentleman." 
 
 t( I am sure he scarcely spoke to me all 
 day> and Clarkson was so intolerably sleepy, 
 there was no getting a word out of him." 
 
 " 1 am afraid you have not been entertain- 
 ed, my dear ?' ' said Mrs. Mason. 
 
 "Entertained!" repeated Rachel, " why, 
 my dear aunt, I am almost tired to death 
 with an account of Mary Jenkins's dog's tooth- 
 ach. I wonder how people can talk such non- 
 sense ! " 
 
 " I am sorry to see, my dear Rachel/' said 
 Mrs. Mason very gravely, " your constant in- 
 clination to ridicule the conversation of your 
 companions : why should you condemn, as 
 nonsense, every subject that does not give you 
 pleasure ! " 
 
 " Do I complain without a cause?" de- 
 manded Rachel. (< Could you desire a more 
 ridiculous subject ? " 
 

 RACHEL. 43 
 
 " I will not contend for the sense of such 
 conversation/' returned Mrs. Mason ; " but 
 little as you are accustomed to mix with the 
 world, you must know the impracticability of 
 always finding such discourse as would bear 
 the test of criticism $ and even were such 
 topics to be introduced, you would still be 
 dissatisfied." 
 
 " Most likely I should if I did not under- 
 stand them," said Rachel, gnawing the finger 
 of her glove. 
 
 f< Why, then, object to what you do under- 
 stand ? Believe me, Rachel, while you so ob- 
 stinately persevere in such conduct, your com- 
 pany will never be sought nor esteemed." 
 
 " My dear aunt," interrupted Rachel, " I 
 am perfectly contented to be despised and 
 neglected, if they will but allow me a little 
 peace." 
 
 " Rachel, Rachel ! " said her aunt, with 
 some asperity, " how often must 1 reprobate 
 these sentiments ? However you may, by a 
 mistaken notion, be led to suppose the con- 
 trary, trust me they are by no means to be 
 commended : an indifference to the opinion of 
 the world should never be encouraged, So- 
 ciety has a claim on every one, and on young 
 
44 RACHEL. 
 
 people particularly, which it is the neglect of 
 an absolute duty to disallow. We are not 
 authorised to live for ourselves alone, but to 
 promote the welfare of others to the utmost of 
 our abilities) which cannot be done while we 
 consider their pursuits, their pleasures, and 
 their sorrows, as matters of indifference, in 
 which we have no concern : nor can such con- 
 duct, selfish as it appears at first sight, prove 
 otherwise than detrimental to our interests; 
 for by rendering such a person an object of 
 general dislike, it rends asunder every tie that 
 should bind them to society, excludes them 
 from the enjoyment of friendship, and, in 
 short, constitutes a character which I hope I 
 shall never see either of you attempt to imitate. 
 For Sophia I have little fear : the vanity inhe- 
 rent in every breast leads her, I am happy to 
 observe, to endeavour to conciliate the esteem 
 of her friends -, while you, actuated by the 
 same principle, affect a roughness of exterior 
 I should be well pleased to see laid aside." 
 
 (f Indeed, madam," said Rachel, weary of 
 an address, the substance of which she had 
 heard a score times before, " however dis- 
 agreeable I may be, and I dare say am, I 
 must say you are not just to accuse me of af 
 
RACHEL. 45 
 
 fectation. You should remember I have never 
 been at school to learn fine manners, as Miss 
 Jenkins has." 
 
 <f Miss Jenkins is a character I am far 
 from wishing you to take for your model," 
 replied Mrs. Mason ; <( and though you will 
 not allow the charge of affectation, you must 
 at least acknowledge that you have never en- 
 deavoured to rub off the rusticity of your 
 manners. I have often been greatly vexed to 
 behold the total neglect with which you have 
 been treated, for want of a little exertion on 
 your part/' 
 
 " Well ! I am sure it never gave me the 
 least concern in the world !" said the incorri- 
 gible Rachel. 
 
 " It is in vain to argue with you, I per- 
 ceive," said Mrs. Mason. <e Time and experi- 
 ence will, I trust, teach you what I cannot.*' 
 
 " Nay, my dear aunt, I will have no in- 
 structor but yourself ; and since you wish it, I 
 really will try to behave better for the future ; 
 though I do not know how it is, but I can 
 never think of any thing to say." 
 
 tf Mrs. Mason smiled, probably because she 
 had gained her cause j and peace being thus 
 restored, the ladies separated for the night. 
 
46 RACHEL, 
 
 " Notwithstanding the disapprobation Ra- 
 chel had expressed of Tomkins, she was better 
 pleased with him than she chose to allow. 
 She had heard his argument with Mr. Brown, 
 and understood enough of it to perceive that 
 he was not inclined to pay that devotion to 
 female classics, which the vicar seemed to 
 think was their due. She therefore considered 
 him in some degree the champion of her 
 cause $ and happy in having found a person 
 possessed of sufficient sense to contend with 
 * Sir Oracle,' and actually to dispute the pro- 
 priety of his darling theme, she beheld Tom- 
 kins with a degree of complacency very unusual 
 with her on so short an acquaintance. 
 
 Rachel, despite of her endeavours to con- 
 ceal it even from herself, possessed her full 
 share of female vanity. The desire of excelling, 
 the thirst of admiration, glowed as strongly in 
 her breast as in that of the more polished 
 Sophia; and had Nature been equally liberal 
 to her person, she had in all probability spread 
 her snares with as much diligence and cau- 
 tion : but aware of the imperfections of her 
 exterior appearance, (which, though not de- 
 formed, could boast of but few advantages), 
 having also found by experience how little 
 
RACHEL. 47 
 
 notice she attracted, the desire of conquest 
 gradually declined. She had long learned to 
 look on the adulation offered to others without 
 envy, and felt perfectly contented when left to 
 make her uninterrupted observations on the 
 company. Still however it might be remark- 
 ed, that if (which seldom happened) some 
 slight attention had been paid her, she re- 
 turned from her visit in better spirits ; which 
 proved, that if she was a stoic, it was through 
 necessity, not choice. 
 
 Thus compelled to seek amusement in her 
 own resources, she resolved to indemnify herself 
 as much as lay in her power, by ridiculing the 
 conduct and behaviour of her companions, for 
 which she fancied she possessed a peculiar 
 talent $ nor did this opinion arise entirely from 
 conceit : her parents (like most others) behold- 
 ing in their offspring qualifications that would 
 have escaped the observation of the most ac- 
 curate observer, had persuaded themselves 
 into a belief that their Rachel was a wit $ and 
 when any one ventured to intimate a contrary 
 opinion, they were entertained with anecdotes 
 so numerous and interesting, that the most 
 incredulous were happy, by retracting their 
 sentiments, to escape the overwhelming detail. 
 
48 RACHEL. 
 
 Since she had become an inhabitant of the 
 Lodge, her aunt had sedulously endeavoured to 
 correct a propensity so little calculated to ren- 
 der her respected; but the force of habit is 
 hard to be overcome. Mrs. Mason reasoned 
 Rachel listened, but could never be con- 
 vinced, that the talent which had been ad- 
 mired by her parents could be so dangerous as 
 her aunt represented. Be it understood, that 
 Rachel had been educated according to the 
 rules of the old school, and taught to ff Ho- 
 nour and obey her father and mother." 
 
 The natural reserve, or, as it may per- 
 haps more properly be termed, the awkward- 
 ness of Rachel, prevented this inclination from 
 being troublesome to her acquaintance ; and 
 excepting a casual speech, it went no farther 
 than her own fire-side, where it was liberally 
 displayed at the expense of every one. 
 
 Justice, however, requires it to be told, that 
 no ill-natured motive influenced her conversa- 
 tionit was merely for her amusement ; and 
 the greatest length to which she ever proceed- 
 ed, was to endeavour, by assuming additional 
 coarseness of manners, to ridicule what she 
 termed her cousin's sentimentality. 
 
 During breakfast the next morning, Sophia 
 
KACHEL. 49 
 
 expressed her approbation of Tomkins in the 
 most animated terms ; and scarcely was the re- 
 past concluded, and Rachel retired to assist her 
 aunt in some domestic affairs, before our hero 
 appeared, charged with the joint inquiries of 
 Mr. and Mrs. Simpson after the health of the 
 ladies. Sophia received him with great plea- 
 sure - 9 she felt convinced, from the early hour, 
 that it must have been his first visit; and 
 the attention was the more welcome, as it 
 established her triumph over Miss Jenkins, 
 whom she had beheld (not with the most ami- 
 cable feelings) engrossing the principal atten- 
 tion of the visitor the preceding evening. 
 
 " 1 trust," said Tomkins, taking the offered 
 chair, " I trust I shall not suffer in your 
 opinion for this flagrant breach of established 
 custom 5 but believe me, Miss Miller, though 
 long trained in the school of modern refine- 
 ment, I have proved a very hopeless pupil $ 
 nor could I have given you a greater proof of 
 iny disobedience to its laws, than by intruding 
 at this early hour." 
 
 <e You might have spared your long apo- 
 logy," said Sophia, smiling; " it is not possible 
 you should be a greater non-conformist to 
 such laws than the inhabitants of this house : 
 
 D 
 
50 KACHEL, 
 
 we are glad to see our friends at all times. It 
 has often struck me with astonishment, when I 
 have reflected how much such rules militate 
 against our happiness, that any one should be 
 found willing to conform to them. Oh, how 
 much do they sacrifice who comply with their 
 dictates ! " 
 
 " Your sentiments exactly coincide with 
 mine : " replied Tomkins, who could not help 
 forming a comparison between his present 
 companion and Miss Jenkins, not much to the 
 advantage of the latter. There was a soothing 
 softness in Sophia's voice that expressed more 
 than her words. " Certainly," thought Tom- 
 kins, " the vicar was right : Virgil and Horace 
 have refined this girl, and made her capable of 
 discriminating between real and imaginary 
 pleasures." 
 
 His reflections were here interrupted by 
 Sophia's remarking, " That though her ac- 
 quaintance was confined to the inhabitants of 
 E , and consequently afforded little variety 
 of character, yet even she had seen with what 
 avidity some people exchanged the tranquil de- 
 lights of home, for scenes of frivolity and dis- 
 sipation. Surrounded as she is," continued 
 she, " with every comfort, I have often won- 
 
RACHEL. 51 
 
 dered to see how much gratification Miss Jen- 
 kins has anticipated from a visit of 'some 
 weeks, which would remove her from all <o- 
 mestic happiness." 
 
 Tomkins sighed $ the soothing voice had 
 lost its charm $ detraction was a despicable 
 quality that always excited his contempt. ' ' Oh, 
 woman, woman ! " thought he, " must I be 
 ever disappointed ? Shall I never find one des- 
 titute of this derogatory failing ? Where can I 
 look now, since Greek and Latin have failed 
 to correct it ? " It has been truly said, that 
 
 " Thoughts from the tongue that slowly part, 
 Glance quick as lightning through the heart j* 
 
 and his took no more time than served to cast 
 a look of contempt and regret on Sophia j but 
 before either had time to speak again, the door 
 of the apartment opened, and Rachel entered 
 in an apron ! 
 
 t I wonder, Rachel,'* said Sophia, hastily, 
 " how you can make your appearance in that 
 disgraceful apron ! " 
 
 "Disgraceful!" repeated Rachel, spreading 
 it out with both her hands $ ee I am sure it is 
 
52 RACHEL. 
 
 neither dirty nor ragged;" then turning to 
 Tomkins, she inquired after Mrs. Simpson. 
 
 Tomkins's eyes had followed the direction 
 of Sophia's on her first exclamation ; and hav- 
 ing ascertained the truth of Rachel's assertion 
 by the ample display she had made, they un- 
 consciously wandered back to Sophia ; possibly 
 desirous of discovering if she could make the 
 like affirmation j when they accidentally en- 
 countered a spot of grease which had fallen on 
 her dress. 
 
 What concatenation of ideas could be form- 
 ed between a spot of grease and an apron, 
 perhaps he only could tell ; probably, as his 
 eyes glanced from one to the other, he endea- 
 voured to trace a similitude in the form of the 
 spots Rachel's apron being a spotted one $ or, 
 more probably, he thought nothing, for it is very 
 certain he said nothing. Rachel, finding he 
 made no reply, repeated her question j when 
 starting from his reverie, he apologized for his 
 inattention, and informed her that Mrs. Simp- 
 son was perfectly well. 
 
 f( I am glad to hear it,'* rejoined Rachel : 
 " I was afraid the party last night would have 
 tired her. 11 
 
RACHEL. 53 
 
 <c Mrs. Simpson is so hospitable/' observed 
 Sophia, " that in entertaining her friends I am 
 sure she never thinks of fatigue." 
 
 " Notwithstanding her forgetfulness, fa- 
 tigue often thinks of her," returned Rachel. 
 
 " Perhaps it would have been better had I 
 said, she does not spare herself on such occa- 
 sions,'* said her cousin, mildly. 
 
 " Certainly there is more reason in that $ 
 for to say friendship feels no fatigue, is like 
 saying ' pride feels no pain j ' when, if the truth 
 were to be told, one should say, it will not ac- 
 knowledge any. But, good morning, Mr. Tom- 
 kins, my aunt is waiting for me to make the 
 pie 5'* and taking a bunch of keys from a 
 closet, Rachel abruptly made her exit. 
 
 " I have been reading Zimmerman on 
 Solitude," said Sophia, when her cousin had 
 kft the room j " and though I admire the 
 work, yet I must acknowledge that I find 
 theory and practice widely different." 
 
 " But why practise it if repugnant to your 
 inclination," asked Tomkins, " when there 
 are so many that would have occasion to re- 
 joice, if by a change in your conduct they were 
 to be favoured with more of your society ? " 
 
 " I am not prepared with an answer suit- 
 
54 RACHEL. 
 
 able to such extravagant flattery/' said the 
 blushing Sophia, " but can merely say, that I 
 have no reason to suppose my society is so 
 highly valued $ and in reply to your question 
 I must inform you, that the pursuits of my 
 aunt and cousin are so diametrically opposite 
 to mine, that 1 am unavoidably condemned to 
 pass many lonely hours." 
 
 "Can you complain of lonely hours with 
 such companions as these?" cried Tomkins, 
 pointing to a well-stored bookcase. 
 
 " Again I must declare, that practice proves 
 the fallacy of theory," replied Sophia: " the 
 best authors may in time grow tedious." 
 
 Tomkins thought very differently 3 and de- 
 sirous of knowing what authors Sophia had 
 termed tedious, he advanced to the bookcase, 
 saying, " Tell me of which of my friends you 
 complain, Miss Miller, that I may discard him 
 from my library ? " 
 
 Sophia perceived that she had proceeded 
 farther than she wished, that is, had expressed 
 sentiments rather incompatible with the ro- 
 mantic sensibility she generally professed $ and 
 willing to redeem her character, said care- 
 lessly, " Oh, I do not make any particular 
 complaint -, I merely meant to observe, that 
 
RACHEL. 55 
 
 there are moments when the spirits will not 
 bear the application necessary to peruse the 
 most excellent writers.'* 
 
 During this speech, Tomkins had recog- 
 nised among the collection some excellent 
 Greek and Latin authors, most of the British 
 poets, and many valuable prose writers 5 and 
 resuming his seat, he said, " 1 differ so far 
 from you, Miss Miller, as to think, that, ex- 
 cepting real distress of mind, nothing could 
 prevent a true admirer from deriving amuse- 
 ment from such resources." 
 
 Sophia was at a loss for a reply $ and as no 
 situation can be more unpleasant, she was 
 not sorry to see him rise to depart : and Tom- 
 kins left the Lodge with somewhat altered 
 sentiments, towards its beautiful inmate, from 
 those he had at first entertained. 
 
 <f I am more than ever convinced of the 
 little benefit derived by women from such 
 studies," said he to Mr. Simpson, at his return, 
 " since I have now met with a proof, that they 
 do not experience even amusement from 
 them/' 
 
RACHEL, 
 
 CHAPTER JIT. 
 
 MR. PORTER (the father of Rachel) was a re- 
 spectable haberdasher in London. He had., 
 as was before intimated, married early in life 
 the sister of Mrs. Mason. Their family at this 
 time consisted of a son and two daughters : 
 Robert, who was the eldest, had been intended 
 by Mr. Porter to become successor to a con- 
 cern, which had supplied his father not only 
 with the comforts, but the superfluities of life$ 
 but the young man's dislike to business was in- 
 vincible. Every effort had been vainly used to 
 prevail on him to listen to the advice of his 
 friends j till at length, wearied of opposition, 
 his father had reluctantly resigned his long- 
 cherished plan, and exerted his interest to pro- 
 cure a situation for him in one of the public 
 offices, which would afford an opportunity for 
 the display of those talents he undoubtedly 
 possessed. 
 

 RACHEL. 57 
 
 Rachel loved her brother with unfeigned 
 affection, and was at this time anxiously ex- 
 pecting to hear the result of the application 3 
 when one morning, soon after she had risen, a 
 note was put into her hands, the superscription 
 of which she instantly recognised to be the 
 hand-writing of Robert. 
 
 Had Rachel been one of those exquisitely 
 feeling persons, who cannot forbear shrieking 
 when a coal starts from the fire, or a harmless 
 insect presumes to wander over their apparel, 
 she had undoubtedly given utterance to some 
 sudden exclamation that would have excited 
 the attention of her aunt. But few things 
 could disarrange Rachel's usual composure, 
 when her judgment pointed out the necessity 
 of preserving it. Where the exertion of her 
 fortitude was required, it had seldom been 
 known to fail. It was in the common occur- 
 rences of life that the awkwardness, arising 
 from the seclusion in which she had been edu- 
 cated, was particularly remarkable 3 whilst her 
 collected firmness, on more trying occasions, 
 had given some people reason to suppose that 
 her feelings were not so acute as they might be, 
 and others had gone so far as to accuse her of 
 downright apathy. 
 
 D 5 
 
58 RACHEL. 
 
 Of so little consequence did Rachel deem 
 such opinions, that they never once raised in 
 her the slightest intention of reforming her 
 , conduct 5 and she now very quietly withdrew 
 to peruse the unexpected billet. The asto- 
 nishment she had at first experienced at the 
 absence of the post-mark, was considerably 
 heightened on reading the following lines : 
 
 " DEAR RACHEL, 
 
 " I ARRIVED this morning, and intend 
 staying a few days. Do not mention my being 
 here to any one, but meet me this evening at 
 five o'clock, when I will explain every thing to 
 you. 
 
 " Yours, 
 
 " R. P. 
 
 " P.S. As you cannot very properly come 
 to the inn, I will meet you at the toll-bar." 
 
 Rachel was greatly perplexed : not that 
 she hesitated a moment about obeying the 
 summons $ she would have done much more to 
 serve, or merely please her brother, but she 
 could not conjecture what could have brought 
 him so far from home 5 and she dreaded to 
 
RACHEL. 59 
 
 meet the inquiries of her aunt, should her ap- 
 pointment be discovered, of which there was 
 some danger five o' clock being Mrs, Mason's 
 tea-hour. " I must contrive it some way, how- 
 ever/' thought she, as she entered the parlour, 
 and took up her work $ and so completely did 
 she succeed in composing her countenance, 
 that neither Mrs. Mason nor her cousin had 
 the least suspicion of what had happened. 
 
 The morning appeared to Rachel the most 
 tedious she had ever known. At length the 
 dinner hour arrived; but her impatience had 
 destroyed her appetite, and it was with great 
 difficulty she prevailed on herself to swallow a 
 few mouthfuls. 
 
 " I am aft \id you are not well," said Mrs. 
 Mason. 
 
 " Oh, yes, I am quite well, thank you, but 
 not very hungry to-day," replied she, sending 
 away her plate. 
 
 Some time after the cloth was removed, 
 Rachel, with an air of great indifference, said, 
 " I mean to try your remedy for the head-ach, 
 this afternoon, aunt 5 so shall go and ask Mrs. 
 Simpson for the receipt we were talking about 
 this morning." 
 
 " It seems a pleasant afternoon," said So- 
 
60 RACHEL. 
 
 phia, " and if you have no objection I will ac- 
 company you.'* 
 
 Rachel had a very great objection, but 
 dared not make any ; she even tried to say she 
 should be glad of her company, but the words 
 choked her, and she could scarcely conceal her 
 vexation $ for the spirit of contradiction seemed 
 to have influenced her cousin to make the pro- 
 posal, as it was by no means a custom of 
 Sophia's to attend Rachel on her visits to Mrs. 
 Simpson. 
 
 " I dare say Mr. Tomkins will not be at 
 home," said Rachel, involuntarily. 
 
 These words proved the speaker to possess 
 more penetration than was generally attributed 
 to her 5 for they at once developed the true mo- 
 tive of Sophia's offer, who, with great anger, 
 replied, " That she hoped she might be sup- 
 posed to visit Mrs. Simpson with as little desire 
 as her cousin had of seeing Mr. Tomkins." 
 
 <f Oh, certainly, certainly ! " cried Rachel, 
 who thought, notwithstanding, that the sup- 
 position would not be quite just ; " but I think 
 it would be better to walk over and see Sally 
 Burton, for, now I think of it, we have not 
 heard of her a long time." 
 
 " If you intend going so far, you had bet- 
 
RACHEL. 61 
 
 ter go immediately/' said Mrs. Mason, " as 
 it is near four o'clock, and you will scarcely be 
 back in time for tea." 
 
 "I think so tooj Sophia, will you go?" 
 asked Rachel. " No, I thank you," said the 
 offended Sophia e 
 
 " Good bye, then," said Rachel j for the 
 first time in her life pleased that she had of- 
 fended her cousin. 
 
 Sally Burton, the poor woman who had 
 been reduced to the necessity of begging alms 
 of the party at Mrs. Simpson's, had been sought 
 and relieved by Mrs. Mason, and had ever since 
 been considered as one of her pensioners ; but 
 as she resided at a considerable distance from 
 the Lodge, Rachel had usually been deputed 
 to the office of visiting her. Her proposal, 
 therefore, excited no surprise, and she set off 
 with the intention of calling on Sally Burton 
 in her way to the toll-bar. 
 
 On entering the cottage, she found if she 
 proceeded directly to the place of rendezvous, 
 she should be at least half an hour before the 
 appointed time, and not choosing to wait so 
 long in a public road, she sat down, and began 
 to inquire after the health of the family. 
 
62 RACHEL. * 
 
 " They be all purely, thank ye, Miss," said 
 the woman ; " and, as I tell my good man, I 
 make no doubt but we shall do very well again, 
 after a bit.'* 
 
 Having conversed some time with Mrs. 
 Burton, Rachel's impatience to meet her bro- 
 ther prompted her to depart $ and looking at 
 the clock she inquired if it was right, but be- 
 fore Sally could return an answer, Tomkins, 
 to her utter amazement, entered the cottage. 
 The rencontre seemed equally unexpected on 
 both sides. " I did not hope for the pleasure 
 of meeting Miss Porter," said he, refusing the 
 chair that Sally had been dusting with the cor- 
 ner of her apron. 
 
 Rachel was not quite certain that he was 
 pleased, but as he said so, she did not choose 
 to contradict him. 
 
 It is an extraordinary difference which must 
 have fallen under the observation of most 
 people, that while the most callous of the fe- 
 male sex seem to think every reflection on 
 their sensibility an insult, the male part of the 
 creation scorn to acknowledge the possession 
 of that very quality which females deem their 
 greatest boast $ and it was probably this reason 
 
RACHEL. 63 
 
 that prevented Rachel from perceiving any 
 marks of satisfaction in the countenance of 
 Tornkins. 
 
 " Is your husband at home, Mrs. Burton ? " 
 he demanded. 
 
 " No, an please your honour," said the 
 woman, curtseying. " I think, Miss, you asked 
 me if our clock was right? It is, I take it, 
 somewhat too slow." 
 
 tf It is nearly five, madam," said Tomkins, 
 looking at his watch." 
 
 " I thank you, sir," said Rachel ; ef then I 
 must bid you good afternoon. Good day, Mrs. 
 Burton : " and she quitted the cottage, leaving 
 Tomkins to wonder and comment on finding 
 her there. 
 
 Tomkins, since his first introduction to the 
 family at the Lodge, had always imagined the 
 unpolished exterior of Rachel concealed quali- 
 ties, which did not meet the eye of a careless 
 observer 3 but whether these qualities were va- 
 luable, or otherwise, he had not as yet had an 
 opportunity of ascertaining. But he thought 
 he had now solved the mystery : he had seen 
 her conversing with a poor cottager, without 
 the slightest appearance of haughtiness or dis- 
 dain 5 and yet avoiding that familiarity which 
 
64 RACHEL. 
 
 allows the dependant to assume the language 
 of an equal. Nor can our hero be accused of 
 want of judgment, when he inferred from this 
 circumstance, that Rachel was not so ignorant 
 as he had at first supposed her ; for perhaps a 
 more general rule cannot be found, as ig- 
 norance will either affect the manners of scorn 
 and contempt, or sink into an almost equally 
 reprehensible easiness of conversation. 
 
 His own visit to the cottage was on an er- 
 rand of benevolence. The distress of this 
 family had been occasioned by the husband 
 being unable to procure work. Their imme- 
 diate wants had been relieved by the benefi- 
 cence of Mrs. Simpson and her friends $ while 
 the interest of her husband had been exerted 
 to prevail on Mr. Jenkins to employ the man 
 as shepherd 5 and it was to announce the suc- 
 cess of this application that Tomkins had 
 visited their humble abode. 
 
 Rachel, in the mean time, continued her 
 way to the toll-bar, where in a few minutes 
 she was joined by her brother. When the sa- 
 lutations, usual between relatives after a sepa- 
 ration of some months, were ended, Rachel 
 expressed her impatience to be informed of the 
 cause of his unexpected appearance. te My 
 
RACHEL. 65 
 
 dear girl/* said he, drawing her arm through 
 his, " you are to understand I am in a most 
 deplorable mess. Some months ago I con- 
 tracted a trifling debt ; but as I had been a 
 friend to the fellow, 1 never imagined he would 
 presume to be troublesome." 
 
 " Why, surely, Robert, you meant to pay 
 the man ?" interrupted Rachel. 
 
 " Hold your tongue, and hear me through, 
 child : I meant to pay him when it was conve- 
 nient, but the wretch informed me the other 
 day that he would wait no longer 5 and unless 
 the money were paid directly, he should pro- 
 ceed to extremities. This, you may be sure, 
 put me in a violent rage, and I was very near 
 vowing never to pay him at all; however, 
 considering that it would be rather awkward 
 to be clapped up just now, I e'en applied to the 
 old one, and in the most pathetic manner .ex- 
 plained to him my misfortune ; when would 
 you believe it ! he not only turned a deaf ear 
 to my sorrows, but told me to my face not to 
 expect any assistance from him, as he neither 
 could nor would support me in such profligacy, 
 but would deliver me up to the rascally bailiffs 
 whenever they chose to fetch me! Seeing 
 
66 RACHEL. 
 
 things were come to this pitch, I thought it 
 high time to be off 5 and here I am.'* 
 
 (e But, dear Robert, why did you come 
 here?" 
 
 t Because I thought you would be glad to 
 see me/* 
 
 Oh, so I am j but why did you come in 
 this strange way ? why not come to ray aunt*s 
 at once ? *' 
 
 " Zounds ! Rachel, I thought you had 
 been a girl of more sense than to ask so ridi- 
 culous a question : don't you know very well 
 that aunty would read me a lecture two or 
 three hours long, and then send me home by 
 the maid ? Besides, I suppose you will receive 
 a full, true, and particular account of my bad 
 behaviour in a few days 3 and it would be a 
 great pity, after I had talked the old lady into 
 good humour, to have all my work undone by 
 it ; let the storm that it will raise first subside, 
 and then I may make my appearance without 
 any hazard.'* 
 
 " But in the mean time where are you to 
 live? as to being kept concealed, I am afraid 
 that is quite out of the question." 
 
 " I do not see that it is out of the question 
 
RACHEL. 67 
 
 at all : If I do not choose to tell who I am, 
 how the deuce are they to find it out ? But I 
 want to consult you about where I am to live $ 
 for my funds are very low, and, as I have told 
 you, there is no hope of a supply for the present. 
 Your inn has lightened my pocket already $ so 
 rub up your memory, and see if you cannot re- 
 collect some decent place where I may take up 
 my quarters." 
 
 " I think I know the most convenient place 
 in the world for a person in your circum- 
 stances," said Rachel, as the remembrance of a 
 spare room in Sally Burton's cottage darted 
 across her mind : " the house stands quite out 
 of the village $ and though it is inhabited by 
 very poor people, yet I can answer for your 
 meeting with cleanliness and civility." 
 
 " Two scarce commodities among their 
 fraternity," observed Robert ; " but I cannot 
 stand upon trifles, so lead on." 
 
 " If I am not to acknowledge you, I must 
 not be seen with you at present," returned 
 Rachel. 
 
 " True ! I forgot : I shall make some con- 
 founded blunder I expect j but, Rachel, you 
 will be sure to let me know the first moment I 
 
68 RACHEL. 
 
 may make my appearance; for I shall not sub* 
 mit to this f durance vile,' very patiently !" 
 
 ff As I am in the habit of calling upon Mrs. 
 Burton, I shall see you sometimes, and be able 
 to tell you how we go on." Then giving him 
 a direction to the cottage, she bade him good 
 night, and hurried home. 
 
 Notwithstanding she used her utmost speed, 
 the clock was striking six when she entered 
 the house j her face glowed with heat, and she 
 had not quite recovered her breath. 
 
 ft In the name of wonder, Rachel, where 
 have you been ? " exclaimed Sophia : " you 
 look as if you had been running a race." 
 
 f I do not approve of your staying out so 
 much beyond your time: pray what has de- 
 tained you ?" asked Mrs. Mason. 
 
 Rachel was confused. " I staid longer 
 than I intended at Sally's," at length she arti- 
 culated. 
 
 " There must be something wonderfully 
 attractive in Sally, to induce you to keep me 
 waiting an hour for my tea," said her aunt. 
 
 Reproof was never agreeable to Rachel; 
 but as no more was said on the subject, she 
 thought she had a fortunate escape. 
 
RACHEL. 69 
 
 According to Robert's expectation, in three 
 days arrived a long letter from Mrs. Porter to 
 her sister, filled with expressions of anxiety at 
 the disappearance of her son. She spoke of 
 bis imprudence in terms qualified with all a 
 mother's fondness 5 and lamented that she 
 could not prevail on her husband to see his 
 conduct in the same light. (< So exasperated 
 is he," she continued, " that he is resolved to 
 condemn him to pass spme time in confine- 
 ment, if he can by any means hear of him. It 
 is in vain I have with tears endeavoured to 
 shake his determination : he says he is certain 
 it will do him more good than all his reasoning 
 or my fondness." 
 
 (( I hope your brother will not come here," 
 said Mrs. Mason, refolding the letter. 
 
 " May I ask why ? " said Rachel. 
 
 " Because I should be under the disagree- 
 able necessity of informing his father of his 
 retreat." 
 
 Rachel's heart seemed ready to burst, 
 t( Surely, madam, you would not you could 
 not do it ! " she exclaimed. 
 
 " 1 certainly could, and I hope you know 
 me sufficiently well to believe I would do 
 it," replied Mrs. Mason, firmly. " I do not 
 
70 RACHEL. 
 
 blame your affection for your brother, neither 
 can I consent to encourage him in disobeying 
 his father." 
 
 So ended all Rachel's hopes $ for it had 
 never once entered her imagination, that her 
 aunt would act so directly opposite to her 
 wishes^ and she had looked forward to the 
 arrival of the expected letter, as the moment of 
 release to Robert. She had not seen him since 
 their meeting at the toll-bar ; and the pleasure 
 she anticipated in conveying to him what she 
 had hoped would prove welcome intelligence, 
 had enabled her to wait, with some degree of 
 patience, the moment of its arrival : but she now 
 almost dreaded to meet him $ and the thoughts 
 of his disappointment, added to her own, gave 
 a most desponding cast to her features. Had 
 she known the principal share of the vexation 
 had fallen to her lot, her chagrin would have 
 considerably abated ; for Robert was one that 
 set care at defiance: and after the few first 
 uneasy sensations had subsided, he was always 
 ready to extract sweet from the present ill. 
 
 How to convey to him the failure of their 
 plans, was the next difficulty that occurred. 
 Her last visit to the cottage was so recent 
 that she dared not to propose another. She 
 
KACHEL. 71 
 
 thought of writing; but where could she 
 find a messenger on whom she could depend ? 
 It may appear extraordinary that Rachel did 
 not seek the cottage, without giving her aunt 
 any information on the subject 3 but those who 
 have lived in a small family, will be perfectly 
 aware,, how intimately acquainted every part of 
 such a family must unavoidably be with the 
 actions of each other 5 and when we consider, 
 that concealment is always attended with in- 
 convenience, and that the fear of discovery 
 renders us desirous of giving an air of plausi- 
 bility to every trifling circumstance, which at 
 another time would have escaped our attention, 
 Rachel's precaution will cease to excite sur- 
 prise. 
 
 Mrs. Mason beheld the concern that was 
 strongly depicted on her countenance, and 
 wishing to divert her thoughts, offered her a 
 book. S&i$i 
 
 " I cannot read," said she, putting it aside : 
 " I think, fixing her eyes intently on the car- 
 pet, " I will take a walk." 
 
 It is said, that ' the mistress of a family 
 must be either a fool or a physician by the 
 time she is forty.* Mrs. Mason was undoubt- 
 edly no fool > and experience had taught her, 
 
72 RACHEL. 
 
 that nothing so effectually tends to relieve the 
 mind (let the cause of uneasiness be what it 
 may) as employment. The extreme concern 
 testified by Rachel had greatly surprised her. 
 She had studied her character closely, and be- 
 lieved she was perfectly acquainted with her 
 disposition ; yet she had never before perceiv- 
 ed any signs of extraordinary sensibility. She 
 was, however, glad to hear her propose walk- 
 ing, which, by changing the scene, would 
 probably remove her vexation $ and therefore 
 said, " I think you had better, but do not be 
 late." The tone in which these words were ut- 
 tered, plainly shewed she had not forgotten her 
 last ramble. 
 
 Rachel promised obedience 3 and happy in 
 having succeeded in leaving the house without 
 exciting suspicion, ran, without stopping, until 
 she reached the cottage. So great was her hurry 
 and trepidation when she entered, that she had 
 nearlyinquired for her brother by his name j but, 
 fortunately, recollecting herself, she sat down 
 in the hope of learning from Sally what she 
 dared not ask. The woman, however, seemed 
 resolved not to satisfy her $ but harangued, for 
 a considerable time, on the goodness of Mr. 
 Simpson, the kindness of Mr. Tomkins, and 
 
RACHEL. 75 
 
 the generosity of her aunt, which had, she said, 
 quite set them on their legs again. 
 
 Never had Rachel heard the commendations 
 of her friends with so little patience 5 at length, 
 unable to endure this torrent of eloquence any 
 longer, she asked, / if it was true that she had 
 taken a lodger." This interrogatory effectually 
 answered the purpose for which it was intend- 
 ed : the poor woman instantly forgot the 
 goodness, the kindness, the generosity of her 
 friends, in her haste to give an account of her 
 new inmate 5 and, after wondering how Miss 
 Porter came to hear of him, she thus continued. 
 
 f< I've a long tale to tell you about it, Miss : 
 it's the most curious thing that ever happened, 
 as you shall hear. The day after you was here, 
 there came a fine gentleman, who said that he 
 heard we had a room to let. I told him it was 
 true, but that it was not good enough for him 5 
 but he would see it, and said it would do very 
 well $ and here he has been ever since. I 
 thought it was odd such a fine gentleman 
 should take up with our place ; but it seemed 
 as if he knew one's thoughts $ for he said the 
 other day, that he was come into the country 
 for his health, and as the town was so noisy, he 
 thought he should be better here/' 
 
74 RACHEL. 
 
 " Does not so fine a gentleman give you 
 
 more trouble than he is worth > " asked Rachel. 
 
 " Lord love you, Miss ! no : he gives no 
 
 trouble in life; for he walks about all day, 
 
 and just comes home to his meals." 
 
 " And is he out now ?" said Rachel, affect- 
 ing curiosity : " I should like of all things to 
 see him," 
 
 ( ' Lauk a daisy, Miss ! " said Sally ; " he is 
 out from morning to night, walking up and 
 down by the toll-bar." 
 
 This was enough for Rachel : she bade her 
 humble friend farewell, and hastened to meet 
 her brother. 
 
 Probably Mrs. Burton suspected something 
 from her abrupt departure, for she watched her 
 out of sight 5 and having ascertained that she 
 took the way to the high road a path directly 
 contrary to the one which would lead her home 
 she resumed her spinning; but whatever 
 her thoughts might be, they were reserved for 
 future explanation. 
 
 Rachel soon found her brother; who no 
 sooner saw her approaching than he hastened 
 towards her, impatient to receive .the intelli- 
 gence he doubted not she brought. 
 
 " My good soul, I am very glad to see 
 
RACHEL. 75 
 
 you ! " cried he, grasping her hand, " I hope 
 you have brought me good news, for I can't 
 bear this life much longer : one might as well 
 be locked up at once. I've not been treated 
 with the sight of a decent phiz such an. age, 
 that, positively, it is quite a relief to look at 
 yours $ but come, you don't tell me the news ! 
 haven't you heard from the old folks >" 
 
 " I wish, Robert, you would be a little se- 
 rious," said Rachel, mournfully $ " I have no 
 good news for you, be assured." 
 
 (< Halloo ! Rachel, are you going to sing a 
 funeral dirge? because, hark'ye, I am not 
 ready. Now," continued he, drawing out his 
 pocket handkerchief, " you may begin 3 you 
 know I like to do things in style." 
 
 This was more than Rachel could bear. 
 Few things could provoke her to tears 5 but 
 the various sensations she had experienced 
 during the day regret for Robert's impru- 
 dence, sorrow for the anxiety of her parents, 
 vexation at the conduct pursued by her aunt, 
 and the agitation she had undergone in effect- 
 ing this meeting had rendered her very unfit 
 to cope with the high spirits of Robert, and 
 she burst into tears. 
 
 Robert was serious in a moment. " Good 
 
76 RACHEL. 
 
 Heavens, my dear Rachel ! " he exclaimed, in 
 a tone of great concern, <f what has happened: 
 you have heard from home, and some of 
 them are ill ? " 
 
 " Oh, no 5 they are all well," said Rachel $ 
 " it is not so bad as that, neither." 
 
 Robert's spirits returned as quickly as they 
 had fled. " Then for what are you acting 
 this tragedy?" demanded he: " I thought, at 
 least, they were all dead and buried. Come, 
 out with it ! you need not be afraid of telling 
 me any thing else." 
 
 Rachel then explained to him the state of 
 affairs 5 and when she had concluded, he said, 
 <( It is rather awkward, to be sure. Why, I 
 say, Rachel, what a crusty old woman that 
 aunt of our's must be! well! (and a sort of 
 half sigh forced its way) what must be must, 
 you know 5 so I shall take wing again 3 for 
 stay here I cannot. I thought aunty would 
 have made peace for me ; but since she declines 
 the office, I shall accept Tom Stretton's invita- 
 tion, and spend the two next months in Cum- 
 berland." 
 
 I think, if you would stay a few days 
 longer," said Rachel, <( while J wrote to my 
 father, perhaps, supported by my mother's 
 
RACHEL. 77 
 
 interest, it might prevail on him to recal 
 you." 
 
 " Faith, my dear girl, that's a bright idea ! 
 I have no doubt but it will do the business. 
 You were always dad's darling, you knowj 
 so I'll e'en stay till you get an answer : it is 
 not the first scrape you have helped me out 
 of." 
 
 " Though I hope it will be the last," added 
 Rachel, gravely. 
 
 " Come, don't preach, there's a good soul 5 
 you know it's an article I never much relished. 
 
 " I have no inclination to preach," said she, 
 " for I have not now to learn how useless it 
 is : I only want to know what you will do in 
 case my father refuses our petition $ as, I dare 
 say, this Tom Stretton will not be very willing 
 to support you ? " 
 
 Robert's pride was roused : the very idea of 
 depending for support on another is so humi- 
 liating to an independent mind, that his good 
 humour could scarcely bear the test. 
 
 " Pray, may I ask the meaning of that very 
 sensible speech ? " said he, " for, upon my ho- 
 nour, it is quite beyond my comprehension. 
 I trust I shall never be reduced to burthen any 
 one for my subsistence $ and, I hope, the next 
 time I ask your opinion, you will endeavour to 
 
78 RACHEL. 
 
 express yourself in terms more suitable to my 
 capacity." 
 
 f Dear Robert, I did not mean to offend 
 you ! and, indeed, this is no time for disagree- 
 ing 5 so, pray answer me, what are we to do 
 in such a case?" 
 
 " There is little probability of our being 
 put to the trial," replied Robert : f( the elec- 
 tion business must be concluded in a short 
 time : and if I am chosen, (of which there is 
 little doubt) I am confident my father will not 
 suffer me to miss it, for want of being able to 
 shew my face." 
 
 " I hope so too," said Rachel j (f but 
 if " 
 
 " My dear girl! don't put in any butsj 
 follow my plan, and never look beyond the 
 bright side of any thing : it is high time to 
 provide for trouble when it comes." 
 
 " I must go now," said Rachel, t( as I was 
 told not to be so late 5 so good night!" 
 
 " Good night!" returned her brother : " be 
 sure and write directly j and let me know the 
 first minute you receive an answer, that I may 
 shape my course accordingly " 
 
 The influence of hope, in tranquillizing the 
 mind, and exhilarating the spirits, has been felt 
 
RACHEL. 79 
 
 and acknowledged ever since the human race 
 have experienced the vicissitudes of grief and 
 joy. Rachel left her brother in far better spi- 
 rits than she had met him j for although his 
 sanguine temper had often misled both of 
 them,, yet, as it is a principle implanted in our 
 nature (unless, indeed, absolute impossibility 
 is opposed to it) to hope what we wish, she 
 now wondered that Robert's ideas had not oc- 
 curred to her, and could have freely laughed at 
 the concern that a short time before had pos- 
 sessed her. 
 
 So relieved did she feel of all trouble, and 
 so greatly did she enjoy that relief, that as she 
 walked hastily homewards, she actually at- 
 tempted a song. Had Rachel entered the lists 
 with a screech-owl, the decision would, no 
 doubt, have been given in her favour - 9 but few 
 of her own species would have dreaded her as 
 a rival. She had, after repeated efforts, raised 
 her voice till she had shrieked out the highest 
 note of a very high tune, when a five-barred 
 gate impeded her progress. Rachel was by no 
 means fond of climbing, so she endeavoured to 
 open it, when she perceived that it had been 
 fastened since she last passed it. 
 
 " What must I do ! " she exclaimed ; and 
 
80 RACHEL. 
 
 turning round to find some other passage, she 
 beheld, to her great dismay, Tomkins close be- 
 hind her, 
 
 It has been before hinted, that the confi- 
 dence which Rachel possessed was not that 
 which is acquired by an intercourse with the 
 world : her natural good sense enabled her to 
 decide, and act with promptitude, on all matters 
 of importance $ but totally unacquainted with 
 that easy self-command which is usually deno- 
 minated manner, her confusion, on occasions 
 like the present, was indescribable $ and she 
 now stood beside the unfortunate gate, without 
 advancing a step, or uttering a word. 
 
 " After all she must be an idiot," thought 
 Tomkins, as he approached, and offered his arm 
 to assist her in climbing the gate. ' After all 
 what 1 ' is a question that requires a long an- 
 swer 3 and whether the reader may be disposed 
 to ask it, or not, it is almost absolutely neces- 
 sary to give it, to account for Tomkins's sub- 
 sequent conduct. 
 
 It may be remembered, that he left Mrs. 
 Burton's cottage, with far more favourable 
 sentiments towards Rachel, than he had before 
 entertained) and so desirous was he of be- 
 coming more intimately acquainted with what 
 
RACHEL. 81 
 
 foe began to consider a valuable character, that 
 he let slip no opportunity of effecting his 
 scheme. 
 
 e< That there is much rust about her, can- 
 not be denied/' thought he; " but her heart 
 is good 5" and though he may be deemed a 
 spiritless, droning, sanctified bore, it must be 
 confessed that he felt more interested in pro- 
 moting his acquaintance with Rachel, than 
 with the intelligent, beautiful Sophia. To this 
 end he had several times called at the cottage, 
 in the vague expectation of meeting her$ 
 aware that the real character is most open to 
 observation when all restraint is laid aside, 
 and the feelings of the heart dictate every ac- 
 tion. He had, in the course of his visits, 
 learned the arrival of the stranger ; but as 
 he appeared desirous of remaining unknown, 
 Tomkins's curiosity had never led him to make 
 any inquiries concerning him. 
 
 Rachel had scarcely left the cottage ten 
 minutes, before Tomkins entered it 5 when 
 Sally, full of amazement at beholding Miss 
 Porter hasten to meet a man whom she thought 
 no one knew, resolved to make out, as she 
 said, whether he was as great a stranger as she 
 took him to be 3 and with a look that by no 
 
 E 5 
 
&A RACHEL. 
 
 means wanted expression, she observed to 
 Tomkins, " that though her lodger thought to 
 keep himself so snug, some of his friends had 
 found him out." : 
 
 Tomkins saw the look, but not understand- 
 ing her meaning, said nothing. 
 
 Sally was disappointed: she expected he 
 would have said something that she might 
 have construed into a desire of an explanation $ 
 but finding she must either proceed unasked, 
 or relinquish the pleasure of telling the won- 
 derful tale, she chose the former plan, and re- 
 marked, " That his honour would wonder to 
 hear that Miss Porter seemed to know the 
 gentleman very well, when every body else had 
 much ado to make out his name." 
 
 Still Tomkins said nothing; and Sally, 
 unable to retain the secret any longer, inform- 
 ed him, " That Rachel had gone to meet the 
 stranger not ten minutes before he entered." 
 
 Again Mrs. Burton was disappointed : her 
 auditor testified no astonishment, nor even ut- 
 tered a single exclamation ; but soon after took 
 leave, and went home, pondering on the intri- 
 cacy of the human character. He had been 
 deceived in Rachel, in every respect. At first 
 lie had thought her a fool , afterwards he had 
 
RACHEL. S3 
 
 imagined that amiable qualities were concealed 
 beneath her apparent stupidity 5 but he had 
 now learnt that she had wit enough to carry 
 on an intrigue 5 and that her supposed virtues 
 did not prevent her from making her apparently 
 charitable visits subservient to a far different 
 purpose. 
 
 Such were his reflections when he found 
 himself but a few paces behind the object 
 which had excited them. Rachel was at this 
 time (as has been already told) chaunting 
 forth a song. Habitual cheerfulness is no in- 
 dication of a bad heart; and Tomkins could 
 scarcely believe that Rachel was capable of so 
 much deceit. It is true he was not captivated 
 by the sound of her voice $ but had not every 
 jarring passion been hushed, and her heart at 
 peace with itself, he argued (not without some 
 shadow of probability) that she would not have 
 sung at all $ but when, on turning and perceiv- 
 ing him, she had shewn so little appearance of 
 common understanding, he was tempted to 
 think, that ' after all, she must be an idiot ! " 
 
 Having assisted her over the before-men- 
 tioned gate, he continued, for some time, to 
 walk by her side in profound silence $ Rachel 
 every moment wishing and expecting him to 
 
84 RACHEL. 
 
 take leave: she had scarcely recovered her 
 confusion, and was besides very desirous of 
 reaching home. 
 
 Tomkins, however, did not offer to depart ; 
 but suddenly breaking silence, he asked her, 
 " If she considered people at liberty to use 
 virtue as a cloke, to screen some private ac- 
 tion ?" 
 
 Rachel did not understand him. The sub- 
 ject seemed so very abruptly introduced, and 
 so unconnected with every object around them, 
 that she paused a considerable time without 
 answering 5 however, on his repeating the 
 question, she said, " I should imagine, that 
 those people who are in the practice of virtue, 
 are seldom guilty of any action that requires 
 concealment." 
 
 " Yet such instances occur,** said Tomkins. 
 
 " Very rarely, I should think," returned 
 Rachel 5 " and they must then be resorted to 
 under very peculiar circumstances." 
 
 " What circumstances do you consider pe- 
 culiar?" asked Tomkins. 
 
 Rachel looked surprised, and said, " It is 
 impossible for me to enumerate all the particu- 
 lar incidents that may be included under that 
 bead ; but I do not think any one should have 
 
RACHEL. 85 
 
 "recourse to such expedients, without the strong- 
 est and most imperative necessity.'* 
 
 <e You think then such means justifiable in 
 some cases ? " said Tomkins. 
 
 f< Not entirely," she replied : " we are 
 told < never to do evil, that good may come of 
 it ; ' but our faith is not always strong enough 
 to enable us to obey this commandment; and 
 events may sometimes occur, that will render 
 the strict performance of our duty a burthen 
 we have not resolution to sustain : in such 
 cases, though the means are not justifiable, 
 they are less blameable than in any other." 
 
 Never was astonishment greater than that 
 experienced by Tomkins at this speech ; he 
 could hardly credit his senses, that it was de- 
 livered by a girl he had so recently pronounced 
 an idiot. It seemed as if the more he knew, 
 the less able he was to judge. Her whole con- 
 duct was a mystery he could by no means 
 understand; and while he retracted his late 
 decision, he beheld her with sentiments almost 
 amounting to admiration 3 until the informa- 
 tion he had received from Mrs. Burton recurred 
 to his remembrance. And although he 'be- 
 lieved the Woman might have exaggerated the 
 
86 RACHEL. 
 
 truth, still his delicacy revolted at the idea of 
 taking any interest in a female, who had so far 
 outstepped the bounds of propriety $ for that 
 the whole circumstance was unknown to Mrs. 
 Mason, he could not for a moment doubt. He 
 was on the point of leaving her, when she 
 asked him " to gratify her curiosity, so far as 
 to inform her how he came to introduce so sin- 
 gular a subject of conversation ?" 
 
 " I was led into the reflection, Miss Porter," 
 said he, " by having lately come to the know- 
 ledge of the real motives of a person, whom 1 
 had believed to have been influenced by none 
 but those of the purest benevolence." As he 
 spoke, he fixed his eyes intently on her coun- 
 tenance, but it changed not ; while she said, 
 " Probably the person you mention is mistaken 
 as to his own real motives?" 
 
 f< Pardon me," interrupted Tomkins, "I 
 conceive that to be scarcely possible." 
 
 <f Then you must conclude that the person 
 alluded to is vicious ? " 
 
 " Imprudent, is perhaps a more applicable 
 term," he replied. 
 
 In a few minutes they reached Mrs. Mason's 
 gate. Rachel invited him to enter; but he 
 
RACHEL. 87 
 
 declined, and they parted : Rachel to write to 
 her father Tomkins to consider in what class 
 of the human species he should place the in- 
 comprehensible Rachel. 
 
88 RACHEL. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 ON entering the house, Rachel experienced 
 the first serious inconvenience arising from her 
 visits to Robert. The grave looks of her aunt, 
 and the almost spiteful ones of Sophia, plainly 
 shewed that some extraordinary occurrence 
 had happened during her absence. 
 
 " Pray, Rachel, where have you been?" 
 demanded Mrs. Mason, in a tone so grave, 
 that she was almost tempted to conceal her 
 visit to Mrs, Burton 5 but recollecting that 
 Tomkins had seen her in the fields leading to 
 her house, and dreading that, by some unfore- 
 seen means, it might reach the ears of her aunt, 
 she gave the required information. 
 
 " I told you so ! " exclaimed Sophia $ ff it 
 is very evident why she does not wish me to 
 be her companion." 
 
 Rachel looked her surprise j for so greatly 
 was she astonished, that words were denied 
 her. 
 
RACHEL. 89 
 
 * e The vexation and surprise, Rachel/' said 
 her aunt, " that I have experienced this even- 
 ing, are beyond my power to express. Your 
 disposition always appeared to me so different, 
 that had not the information been given by so 
 respectable a person as Mrs. Simpson, I confess 
 I should have disbelieved it without a mo- 
 ment's hesitation." 
 
 Rachel sunk into a chair: she imagined 
 that the retreat of her brother was discovered $ 
 and, without reflecting on the improbability of 
 Mrs. Simpson's knowing any thing of the mat- 
 ter, she sat an image of despair. 
 
 <f When I consider the short time you have 
 been acquainted with this young man," con- 
 tinued Mrs. Mason, " the impropriety of your 
 conduct strikes me more forcibly than ever j 
 and I should have hoped that, at a time when 
 your parents are lamenting the imprudence of 
 one child, you would carefully have avoided 
 every thing that could tend to augment their 
 uneasiness." 
 
 Rachel felt greatly relieved : that her ac- 
 cusation had no concern with her brother she 
 was convinced 5 and she boldly demanded of 
 what she was accused ? 
 
 "" Do not think to mislead me by such 
 
90 RACHEL. 
 
 dissimulation/' replied her aunt 3 " your pre- 
 sent behaviour entirely confirms my suspi- 
 cions." 
 
 Rachel, however, persisted in her igno- 
 rance 5 and at length Mrs. Mason informed 
 her, that Mrs. Simpson had called during her 
 absence 5 and, in the course of conversation, 
 had casually mentioned Tomkins's frequent 
 visits to the cottage ; adding, in a joking man- 
 ner, some observations on his meeting with 
 Rachel, of which he had accidentally spoken. 
 
 Mrs. Mason was far from thinking of it in 
 so slight a manner 5 and when she afterwards 
 reflected on (what now appeared to her) Ra- 
 chel's solicitude to go out alone, she became 
 seriously uneasy. She had resolved to bring 
 her to a full explanation on her return $ when 
 the distress she had shewn, on supposing her 
 secret was discovered, was mistaken by her 
 aunt as an indisputable evidence of her culpa- 
 bility. 
 
 Sophia was not at all disposed to become 
 peace-maker in the affair 3 her vanity was 
 touched to the quick : that Rachel the coarse, 
 vulgar, illiterate Rachel should think of con* 
 tending with her, would have been a mark of 
 presumption, for which the disgrace attending 
 
RACHEL. 91 
 
 a failure might have been some atonement $ 
 but the thought of her success was intolerable $ 
 and as prejudiced people cannot be impartial 
 judges, if Sophia said any thing, it tended to 
 widen rather than close the breach. 
 
 During this explanation, Rachel had been 
 considering what plan she had better pursue. 
 She thought it so fortunate that the real cause 
 of her visits still remained unknown, that 
 though greatly provoked that such a motive 
 was assigned her, yet, while she steadily denied 
 the truth of the allegation, she was not sorry 
 to see them persist in their opinion ; knowing 
 that the moment which relieved her brother, 
 would free her from every stigma which was 
 at present attached to her. 
 
 It may, perhaps, be supposed from these 
 considerations, that had not a time of acquittal 
 been expected by Rachel, she would have 
 abandoned her brother to his fate ; the truth is 
 widely different : notwithstanding her pro- 
 fessed indifference to public opinion, no one 
 could pay it more respect where it did not in- 
 terfere with her duty : that duty, she ima- 
 gined, (how truly, time cannot be spared to 
 inquire) led her to assist her brother $ and 
 though aware she was forfeiting the opinion 
 
92 RACHEL. 
 
 she much prized, she would resolutely have 
 performed her part at all hazards: but had 
 she not looked on her exculpation as certain, 
 the task, that now appeared lightsome and 
 pleasant, would have seemed to require almost 
 Spartan fortitude. 
 
 She was, however, much concerned at 
 hearing the following speech : " You cannot, 
 Rachel," said her aunt, " think me either un- 
 just or severe, when I prohibit your walking 
 alone for the future : if, as you say, you are 
 unjustly accused, you can have no reasonable 
 objection to this arrangement $ if you are not, 
 it is a precaution I am every way justified in 
 using." 
 
 " It must not be," thought Rachel, " or I 
 shall see Robert no more." " The only way, 
 madam, in which you can shew your belief in 
 what I have asserted," said she, " is by allow- 
 ing me my usual liberty." 
 
 " I have not said that I do believe your as- 
 sertion," replied her aunt 5 f( and by endea- 
 vouring to put aside this trifling restraint, you 
 certainly confirm the contrary opinion." 
 
 Rachel saw it was useless to contend, so she 
 remained silent; and retired to rest, vexed 
 with her aunt, her cousin, Mrs. Simpson, and, 
 
RACHEL. 93 
 
 above all, with Tomkins, who had been the 
 undesigning cause of all her difficulty. 
 
 Several days had elapsed, and Rachel saw 
 little probability of an interview with Robert. 
 During this time, the restraint, which Mrs. 
 Mason had termed trifling, had increased every 
 day 5 and every day the difficulty of making 
 even a momentary escape seemed greater; till 
 at length it appeared insurmountable. To add 
 to her chagrin, no answer had arrived from her 
 father 5 and she was, more than once, on the 
 point of confessing every thing to her aunt - } 
 but the promise she had given her brother, and 
 the well- remembered sentiments expressed by 
 Mrs. Mason, withheld her. 
 
 About this time an incident occurred which 
 was hailed by Rachel with delight, but which, 
 in the end, proved only a fresh source of vex- 
 ation. 
 
 The renewed disappointment of seeing the 
 post-boy ride past the gate without stopping, 
 had cast an additional cloud over the features 
 of Rachel 5 and her aunt, who certainly had as 
 great antipathy to a mournful countenance 
 (particularly when she fancied she possessed the 
 means of removing it) as any person could 
 
 
94 RACHEL. 
 
 possibly have, proposed a call on Mrs. Simp- 
 son. 
 
 Mrs. Mason was by no means one of those 
 beings who are described as possessing every 
 unamiable quality, although she undoubtedly 
 was an old maid, being upwards of fifty $ nor 
 did she, because she had never entered the 
 state of matrimony herself, rail at and de- 
 nounce it as the source of every evil : on the 
 contrary, she saw nothing objectionable in the 
 connexion she fancied her niece had formed, 
 but the clandestine manner in which it ap- 
 peared to have been carried on 5 which may 
 account for her proposing to take her to the 
 house a circumstance which some old maids, 
 married as well as single, will perhaps think 
 she ought of all others to have avoided. 
 
 She was greatly surprised to perceive that 
 her proposal seemed to give no satisfaction to 
 Rachel, who, with a most unmoved counte- 
 nance, said " she would accompany her if she 
 wished it : " but the settled gloom was not for 
 a moment displaced : no heightened colour, nor 
 brightened eye, shewed that she derived the 
 least pleasure from the intended visit. 
 
 " Surely I have been mistaken," thought 
 
RACHEL. 95 
 
 Mrs. Mason 5 " for human nature is not capa- 
 ble of such consummate hypocrisy, at least 
 she is not." 
 
 A perfect command of the countenance is, 
 indeed, most difficult of attainment $ and, not- 
 withstanding Shakspeare has declared, ' ' There 
 is no art to read the mind's construction in the 
 face,'* an attentive observer may often (though 
 not infallibly) form a tolerably accurate judg* 
 ment. 
 
 Not being able to account for Rachel's 
 evident dejection in any other way, Mrs. Mason 
 resolved to see Tomkins and her together, in 
 the hope of having an opportunity of judging 
 of their mutual sentiments 3 and she deter- 
 mined, should she be unable to bring things to 
 a proper explanation, to send Rachel out of 
 the way, during the time Tomkins staid at 
 E'" Sophia declined being of the party j 
 
 and in a few minutes she sallied forth with 
 poor Rachel, who, as she passed the turning in 
 the lane, cast a wistful look at the road that 
 led to the cottage. The old couple were glad 
 to see them $ and as no previous engagement 
 prevented, they were induced to stay to take 
 tea. Mrs. Mason wished Sophia to be made 
 acquainted with this arrangement, lest she 
 
96 RACHEL. 
 
 should be uneasy at their not returning ; and 
 Tomkins begged he might be allowed to con- 
 vey the information, which was accompanied 
 by an invitation from Mrs. Simpson to join the 
 party. 
 
 When he reached the Lodge, he found 
 Sophia attentively perusing a book, which 
 seemed to have excited the greatest interest in 
 her feelings. Never, perhaps, had she looked 
 more beautiful than at this moment : an ex- 
 pression of the most tender compassion over- 
 spread her countenance ; while a tear in either 
 eye seemed ready every instant to overflow its 
 boundary. 
 
 On his entrance she rose to receive him, 
 hastily closed her book, and, with a deep blush, 
 offered him a seat. 
 
 " I am afraid," said he, " I have interrupt- 
 ed one of those illusions you described so well, 
 the first time I had the pleasure of conversing 
 with you ? " 
 
 " I acknowledge it," replied Sophia, " but 
 at the same time I thank you 3 for the contem- 
 plation of sorrows (though imaginary) was 
 becoming almost painful.'* 
 
 Tomkins was no great admirer of such ex- 
 quisite feelings. He was of opinion, that 
 
RACHEL. 97 
 
 those persons who are in the habit of indulg- 
 ing imagination, so much as to suffer their 
 finest feelings to be excited over every well- 
 told pathetic tale, are, in time, led to consider 
 the common troubles of life too insignificant 
 to call forth that sensibility, which had learned 
 to look on fraud, and rapine, and murder, as 
 common occurrences. He, therefore, evaded 
 any direct reply, by asking the title of the book 
 she had been reading. 
 
 Sophia blushed as she presented it, " If 
 you have not read it," she said, <e you will, 
 perhaps, be at a loss to account for the interest 
 I have evinced : if you have, I need say no- 
 thing." 
 
 Tomkins looked at the title page : he cer- 
 tainly had read part of it 5 but could not recol- 
 lect any passage calculated to excite any other 
 tears, than such as " the passion of loud laugh- 
 ter might have shed," at the high-flown, bom- 
 basticai nonsense with which it was filled. 
 He had been induced to attempt the perusal of 
 it, at the request of a lady, who had recom- 
 mended it to him as the sweetest thing that 
 ever was written, printed, or read j but not all 
 his respect for the whole female race could 
 have enabled him to toil through more than 
 
 F 
 
98 RACHEL. 
 
 the very small portion he did 5 yet, on this 
 superficial reading, he thought himself qualified 
 to judge the whole work 5 and though, when 
 questioned by his fair friend, he had affected to 
 lament his defective capacity, and said, "it 
 might be all she thought it, but, to confess the 
 humiliating truth, it was far beyond his com- 
 prehension,** he set it down in his own mind, 
 as the most nonsensical composition chance 
 had ever thrown in his way. He was greatly 
 astonished to find it in the hands of Sophia. 
 " What would the vicar say," thought he, 
 " were he to discover that Virgil and Horace 
 give place to such absurdity as this ! " 
 
 Supposing some observation would be ex- 
 pected, he returned the book, saying, " When 
 I tell you I have read part of it, Miss Miller, 
 you will allow there needs no further observa- 
 tion." 
 
 Perhaps Sophia suspected something from 
 the tone of his voice, or saw some unknown 
 meaning lurking in his eyes 5 or perhaps it 
 was accident that prompted her to ask his opi- 
 nion more decidedly j for, with a degree of 
 earnestness, she said, e( Do not you think it an 
 excellent thing ? " 
 
 Luckily for Tomkins, he was spared the 
 
RACHEL. 99 
 
 disagreeable necessity of having recourse to 
 his old subterfuge, or of inventing a new one, 
 by one of the servants bursting into the room, 
 crying, " Oh, miss ! Molly has scalded her arm 
 in the dreadfullest way that can be, and what 
 are we to do ? for madam and Miss Rachel are 
 both out I" 
 
 "I am very sorry," said Sophia; "what 
 is to be done?" 
 
 " I thought as how, miss, you might, for 
 [ once, guess where them sort of things be 
 kept ! " said the girl. 
 
 " You know I never have any thing to do 
 with such things,'* replied Sophia, angrily 5 
 " so how is it likely I should know where to 
 look?" 
 
 " But what must be done with Molly's 
 arm, miss ? " 
 
 " I think you had better send the boy for 
 my cousin," said she. The girl dropped a 
 curtsey, and left the room. 
 
 " Really," said Sophia, " people do make 
 so much trouble about mere trifles, that they 
 almost exhaust my patience : if they were once 
 to know what real trouble is, it might be of 
 service to them." 
 
 t So it will ever be 1 " ejaculated Tomkins $ 
 
100 KACHBL. 
 
 to whom thia short conversation hacl appeared 
 an admirable proof of his opinion, that ill th 
 reeted sensibility causes indifference to the 
 minor evils of life. " I should think, madam, 
 the girl's arm causes her some pain V 
 
 " Oh! no doubt | but had we not better 
 go ? Mrs* Simpson will be expecting us $ and 
 my staying here will do no good whatever/ 1 
 
 They had proceeded about half way, when 
 they met Rachel and the boy running as fast as 
 health and strength could carry them. Rachel 
 took no more notice of them, than if they had 
 been total strangers. 
 
 " You must long since have perceived the 
 little attention my cousin pays to all outward 
 appearance/ 1 said Sophia j " but I never knew 
 her to carry her rudeness to so great an extreme 
 before. 1 * 
 
 " It may well be excused," replied Tom- 
 kins, " when we consider the cause : no doubt 
 she recollected, that every monfent she delayed 
 in talking to us was prolonging the servant's 
 pain/' 
 
 Sophia was not pleased with this reply. 
 She had not yet forgiven Rachel for her fan- 
 cied conquest j and Tomkins's words confirmed 
 her in the belief, of what she had before enter* 
 
JUCHBL, 101 
 
 taincd some doubt upon : she, however, merely 
 said, " You are very good to excuie her ! " 
 and they finished their walk in uninterrupted 
 silence. 
 
 Rachel in the mean time reached the Lodge. 
 Another motive, as well as the one Tomkins 
 had ascribed to her, had prompted her speed : 
 the boy hail arrived while Mrs. Mason, on 
 some account, had left the room; and the 
 message was delivered to Rachel in the pre- 
 sence of Mrs. Simpson, to whose great surprise 
 she returned a simple " very well," without 
 offering to leave the room. 
 
 " My dear Rachel!" said Mrs. Simpson, 
 " are you not going ? " 
 
 Rachel coloured. " I must not, ma* am, 
 without my aunt's permission," she replied. 
 
 " I have known the time when you would 
 not have been so ceremonious; but you had 
 much better go, and I will inform your aunt 
 when she returns." 
 
 Rachel required no second command. The 
 long desired opportunity of seeing her brother 
 was at length arrived j and so eager was she to 
 embrace it, that, as before observed, she 
 scarcely cast a look on Tomkins, or his com* 
 panion, as she passed. 
 
102 RACHEL. 
 
 Having seen the proper remedies applied, 
 she was about to leave the house as hastily as she 
 had entered it, when she was informed, that a 
 note had been brought for her while she was out. 
 It was from Robert, wondering at and com- 
 plaining of her silence, and desiring her to meet 
 him in a field not far distant from the house. 
 Rejoicing that it had not fallen into her aunt's 
 hands, she immediately prepared to obey the 
 summons, and soon joined her brother, who 
 was amusing himself with shooting in a neigh- 
 bouring meadow. 
 
 "Why, Rachel!" he exclaimed, as he 
 shook her violently by the hand, " I am al- 
 most tempted to shoot you, for keeping me 
 such an intolerable time in suspense. Did 
 you think I had the patience of Job ? did I 
 not tell you to let me know; the very minute 
 you received an answer ? " 
 
 < But I have had no answer/and to see you 
 before was impossible : even now, I owe it to 
 the most unexpected accident, that I am en- 
 abled to comply with the summons contained 
 in your note. 1 ' 
 
 " Why then, my dear girl, don't you tell 
 me what has happened ?" 
 
RACHEL. 
 
 103 
 
 * s So I will, if you will give me time." 
 
 *' Rattle away, then, and make haste 1" 
 said he. 
 
 Rachel soon explained to him the reason 
 of her silence ; and concluded with expressing 
 her vexation, at not having received any kind 
 of reply to her letter. 
 
 " It is bad, very bad, very unlucky, indeed! 
 but it cannot be helped $ so we must not fret : 
 I do seriously assure you, Rachel, I will 
 never get into a scrape of this kind again! 
 But I am most vexed at having drawn you into 
 such a dilemma $ and if any one had ever told 
 me, that I should have exposed the character 
 of either of my sisters to the most remote sus- 
 picion, by any of my frolics, I think he would 
 have stood a good chance of being knocked 
 down : but I shall do away that inconvenience 
 by calling on Mrs. Mason to-morrow, and ex- 
 plaining the affair to her." 
 
 Bless me, Robert, how can you think of 
 being so ridiculous ! " exclaimed Rachel. 
 
 " We differ there, my dear," replied Robert. 
 fe In a place where you are so well known, I 
 think it would be far more ridiculous to give 
 people an opportunity of chattering at your 
 expense." 
 
104 RACHEL. 
 
 " You are very good, and I am very much 
 obliged to you $ but, really, it would be a pity 
 to spoil all our plans now ! besides, no one has 
 the least suspicion of the matter but my aunt, 
 and I can soon convince her after you are 
 gone." 
 
 Rachel certainly rather deviated from the 
 truth, in not mentioning Sophia $ but in all 
 her schemes her cousin was considered of no 
 importance. 
 
 " If that be the case," said Robert, " I 
 think I shall remain concealed, as I had an in- 
 tention of staying till the fair at the next 
 town, which cannot be done if I make myself 
 known : in the interim you will probably hear 
 from dad, which may, perhaps, save me my 
 jaunt into Cumberland ; if you do not, I shall 
 take my departure at that time. 
 
 At this moment they were interrupted by 
 several voices, eagerly calling out, e( How do 
 you do, Miss Porter?" and to Rachel's ex- 
 treme mortification, she beheld the three Miss 
 Jenkins's approaching them. Women are said 
 to be never at a loss for an expedient, and 
 Rachel gave a proof of the truth of this 
 maxim $ for, turning to her brother, she said, 
 " The road lies directly before you, sir ! " add- 
 
RACHEL. 105 
 
 ing in a low voice, " Look for me at the 
 fair." 
 
 Robert took the hint, bowed, and walked 
 on. 
 
 " Who is that gentleman ? " asked Miss Jen- 
 kins, giving her sisters a significant glance. 
 
 " A. stranger, no doubt," replied Rachel, 
 as he did not know which way to take, without 
 being directed." 
 
 " Will you allow us to share your walk ?" 
 said Miss Jenkins. 
 
 " I am homeward bound," returned Rachel, 
 desirous of shaking off the intruders : but vain 
 was the attempt. 
 
 " Why, so were we before we met you," 
 cried Mary Jenkins 5 " so we may as well walk 
 together." 
 
 Very well ! but I must make haste," said 
 Rachel, not very cordially 5 and in a short 
 time she again entered the Lodge $ while Miss 
 Jenkins, having seen her safely housed, went 
 home, debating with her sisters who the stran- 
 ger could be, and whether Rachel knew more 
 of him than she affected to do ? 
 
 " For my part," said Miss Mary, " I think 
 her directing him was all a pretence ; for, don't 
 you remember what close conversation they 
 
 F 5 
 
106 RACHEL. 
 
 appeared to be in, before we came up to 
 them?" 
 
 " Nonsense!" exclaimed Miss Jenkins; 
 " the man was obliged to stop while she 
 shewed him the way : but, really, Mary, you 
 are always so ill-natured ! " 
 
 Now there was, in fact, as much ill-nature 
 in Miss Jenkins as her sister $ and she would 
 as readily have joined in condemning the ob- 
 ject of their suspicions, but that her vanity 
 prevented her. She had employed the whole 
 artillery of bows and blushes, smiles and sen- 
 timental speeches, to ensnare the affections or 
 attentions (she cared not which) of Tomkins $ 
 and was just beginning to hope she had suc- 
 ceeded, when, on the evening he met Rachel at 
 the gate, she had seen him conducting her 
 home. From that moment she watched her 
 with all the jealous care of a rival $ and had 
 Mrs. Mason known with what unwearied at- 
 tention every action was remarked, she would 
 have thought all precautions on her part totally 
 unnecessary. She had seen Rachel, accompa- 
 nied by her aunt, pass in their way to Mr. 
 Simpson's $ and though she knew not why or 
 where they were going, yet it informed her 
 that Rachel was from home, and set her on the 
 
RACHEL. 107 
 
 watch. Soon after, Tomkins, unconscious of 
 the pang he was about to inflict in the bosom 
 of the fair lady, passed 5 and, to the torture of 
 her curiosity, took the road to the Lodge. 
 She, however, comforted herself with the 
 knowledge that Rachel was not there 5 but 
 scarcely had she soothed herself into tranquil- 
 lity, before Rachel, breathless with running, 
 repassed, and upset all her composure. With- 
 out allowing herself time for reflection, she 
 started from her seat, and hurried to the 
 Lodge, filled with the idea of interrupting 
 their t&e-ci-t&e. 
 
 t( I wish to see Miss Porter," said she to 
 the servant, who opened the door. 
 
 " She is not at home, ma'am,'* replied the 
 girl. 
 
 <c Do not tell me so, for I saw her come 
 home not a quarter of an hour ago." 
 
 : "* r Oh, yes, ma'am, but she is gone out 
 again." 
 
 " And, pray," said she, hurried beyond all 
 bounds of propriety, " has not a gentleman 
 been here since Mrs. Mason left home?" 
 
 " Yes, ma'am." 
 
 " And is he gone, too ?" 
 
 " Yes, ma'am." 
 
1O8 RACHEL. 
 
 Miss Jenkins glanced at her sisters. " Pray, 
 my good girl," said she, " can you tell me 
 where Miss Porter is gone ?" 
 
 " No, indeed, ma'am $ but she went some- 
 where into yon fields." 
 
 f( Shall we go ?" said Miss Jenkins, as the 
 gate closed after them. 
 
 <f It is a sort of wild-goose chase," replied 
 Miss Mary. 
 
 <f Well, it will be but a walk," returned 
 her sister. 
 
 " Oh, I have no objection," rejoined the 
 other, and they crossed into the fields. 
 
 ' ' At length, partly by accident, and partly by 
 design, they encountered Rachel 5 whom they 
 no sooner perceived, than they saluted in the 
 manner recorded. 
 
 The satisfaction Miss Jenkins received, 
 from the conviction that her suspicions re- 
 specting Tomkins were unfounded, was greatly 
 counterbalanced by the perplexity she expe- 
 rienced on finding a handsome, genteel-look- 
 ing man, and, moreover, a stranger, in conver- 
 sation with Rachel ; and, though willing to 
 allow her all the censure which the seeming 
 impropriety of her conduct might have war- 
 ranted, yet vanity, that indefinable, inexplica- 
 
RACHEL. 109 
 
 ble passion, led her to become her defender ; 
 for, had she allowed her to have been culpable, 
 she must also have allowed her the honour of 
 a conquest, of which, even she might have 
 boasted. 
 
 Rachel felt little inclination to return to 
 the party at Mr. Simpson's 5 she, therefore, 
 sent the boy with a message to that effect, and 
 went to inquire after Molly's arm. While she 
 was superintending the applications, the ser- 
 vant informed her of Miss Jenkins's visit $ and, 
 without waiting to be desired, proceeded to 
 give a faithful account of the many questions 
 she had addressed to her 5 which, though they 
 made the girl wonder, were perfectly under- 
 stood by Rachel. <( Yet, how could she suspect 
 such a thing ! " thought she, as she afterwards 
 sat gazing at the parlour ceiling. " What 
 could ever put it in her mind ! To be sure they 
 are the most disagreeable family in the world, 
 that's certain. Perhaps Mrs. Simpson has told 
 them the same silly tale she told my aunt. 
 Poor Robert! you have caused me almost as 
 much trouble as yourself : I have a great mind 
 to tell my aunt every thing, and send him 
 word, that he may go away 5 but then he will 
 think me the most inconsistent creature in the 
 
110 
 
 RACHEL. 
 
 world ! besides, he seemed to like the thoughts 
 of going to the fair ; and shall I drive him 
 away, because Miss Jenkins chooses to be more 
 disagreeable than ever? To be sure, she will 
 tell every body; but then, the fair will soon 
 be here, Robert will go away, and I shall be at 
 liberty to explain every thing. So let her talk 
 as much as she likes, she shall never frighten 
 me into gratifying her curiosity; though I 
 do hope Mr. Tomkins will not hear of it !" 
 
 Soon' after she had come to this magna- 
 nimous resolution, Mrs. Mason and Sophia 
 returned 5 and it was some comfort to the 
 harassed mind of Rachel to perceive, that her 
 aunt addressed her with more cordiality than 
 she had done since their late disagreement. 
 Sophia too was in good spirits, and even went 
 so far as to tell her that Mr. Tomkins desired 
 his compliments. 
 
 Mrs. Mason had not been very well pleased 
 when she found Rachel had returned home in 
 her absence 5 but being unwilling to evince 
 any uneasiness before Mrs. Simpson, she re- 
 solved to wait Sophia's arrival $ when, if Tom- 
 kins manifested any desire of again returning, 
 she determined to accompany him. All her 
 intentions, however, proved useless : Sophia 
 
RACHEL. Ill 
 
 came, and with her came also Tomkins, who, 
 so far from seeming to think of any absent 
 friend, appeared the whole evening to be per- 
 fectly at ease $ and as he had been the innocent 
 cause of Rachel's trouble, so was he now the 
 unconscious means of removing all remaining 
 doubts from the mind of Mrs. Mason $ nor 
 was her pleasure in resigning her suspicions, 
 less than Rachel's in her restored confidence. 
 
 All who are acquainted with country towns, 
 know how anxiously a fair is anticipated as an 
 universal holiday. Most of the young people 
 of the village of E had long settled the 
 party, the mode of conveyance, and every 
 other particular. Among the rest, Sophia and 
 Rachel were desirous of going -, but their ac- 
 quaintance was not large, and it was some 
 time before a party could, by any means, be 
 formed. At length it was agreed, that Sophia 
 and her cousin should accompany two of the 
 Miss Jenkins's, attended by Mr. Clarkson and 
 Tomkins, who had been pressed into the ser- 
 vice by the indefatigable Miss Jenkins. 
 
 Rachel did not like any of the party. The 
 Jenkins's she thought she had sufficient reason 
 to dislike $ Clarkson she was tired of 5 and her 
 delicacy prevented her feeling at all easy in 
 
112 RACHEL. 
 
 Tomkins's company. Too much, however, de- 
 pended on her going, to allow her to object to 
 the company : she knew Robert would expect 
 her ; and it was necessary he should be in- 
 formed that no answer had been returned to 
 her letter. 
 
 Accordingly, on the appointed day, they set 
 out in the following order: Miss Miller and 
 Mary Jenkins, supported by Clarkson -, Tom- 
 kins conducting Miss Jenkins and Rachel. 
 As the town where the fair was held was but 
 two miles distant, the party preferred walking 
 across the fields, to the pleasure of being jolted 
 over a cross country road in a tilted cart. 
 
 Tomkins had now been a resident in 
 
 E a considerable time. The opinion he 
 
 had originally formed of Rachel, had long 
 given place to one more favourable. Still he 
 was undetermined whether to give her credit 
 for a cultivated understanding, as she always 
 appeared to shun all conversation which re- 
 quired much intellect or learning to support it 5 
 yet he had observed that she paid the most 
 profound attention to it, when carried on by 
 others. More than once he had seen her lips 
 part, as if she were about to declare her sen- 
 timents 5 but the inclination was always re- 
 
RACHEL, 113 
 
 pressed, and a slight blush usually succeeded 
 the involuntary motion. 
 
 These observations induced him to believe 
 that want of confidence, and not of ability, 
 prevented her from joining the conversation : 
 this was to him rather a recommendation than 
 otherwise. He had been so often disgusted by 
 the pert flippancy and undaunted confidence 
 of many females, who really had some preten- 
 sions to a good understanding, that to find a 
 woman of sense, possessed of sufficient resolu- 
 tion to keep her acquirements from becoming 
 nuisances to her friends, had at length appear- 
 ed to him a thing rather to be wished than ex- 
 pected. Rachel, he fancied, came nearer to his 
 standard, than any he had ever met with j but she 
 carried her taciturnity to the opposite extreme. 
 A stranger's first impression generally was, that 
 nature had been very sparing to her of intel- 
 lectual endowments ; and those who had not 
 opportunity or inclination to make farther 
 observation, would undoubtedly remain in the 
 same opinion for ever. " A little more inter- 
 course with the world would, however, remedy 
 all this," thought Tomkins ; and could the cause 
 of her visits to Mrs. Burton's cottage have 
 been satisfactorily explained, he would have 
 
114 RACHEL. 
 
 considered her every way worthy of his regard 
 He had often of late vainly endeavoured t< 
 draw her into conversation ; but from a caus< 
 that may be readily conjectured, she was mor 
 than usually silent in his company. Still h< 
 recollected, that " in a multitude of word 
 there is folly $ " and as, in spite of her reserve 
 some rational ideas would escape her, he wa 
 sometimes tempted to think that pride had 
 share in her silence. 
 
 This morning, however, all endeavours i 
 induce her to speak were rendered unnecessar 
 by Miss Jenkins, who talked incessantly. He 
 companions listened, sometimes with a degre 
 of patience, but oftener with disgust, to I 
 tedious repetition of various improbable adven 
 tures, which, as she said, happened on a simila 
 occasion the preceding year 5 and she relate< 
 such a number of " hair- breadth 'scapes,' 
 that had Tomkins placed implicit faith in th 
 truth of the history, he would have repentei 
 taking charge of a person who seemed, by ; 
 strange fatality, to be more than commonl] 
 exposed to the dangers of life. 
 
 They had arrived, however, within a shor 
 distance of the town, without meeting wit) 
 any <{ heart-riving scene, or awe-inspiring ca 
 
RACHEL. 115 
 
 tastrophe," when Miss Jenkins, anxious to 
 display to her companions her graceful agility, 
 and finding they were come to the last place 
 that would afford her an opportunity of shew- 
 ing the said accomplishment, darted forward 
 with great velocity j and, before any one was 
 aware of her intention, mounted to the top rail 
 of the gate, from whence, to the consternation 
 of Rachel, she leaped to the ground. Tomkins 
 could not conceive the motive for this action. 
 He was not one of those who delight in seeing 
 the weaker sex attempt the arduous achieve- 
 ments of men ; and, though he would have re- 
 joiced to have beheld her dexterity, had she 
 been threatened with any danger, yet he would 
 have been better pleased had she been con- 
 tented to climb the gate in the usual mode, 
 now there was no occasion for her extraordi- 
 nary exertion. 
 
 When they reached the gate, they found 
 Miss Jenkins had abundant cause to repent the 
 performance of her late exploit: her muslin 
 dress had been caught by an envious nail, and 
 rent nearly from top to bottom. 
 
 " Was ever any thing so provoking ! " she 
 exclaimed, as the party joined her. " What 
 
116 RACHEL. 
 
 must I do! Only look, Miss Miller! What 
 can be done with it ? " 
 
 " It had better be pinned up, till we get 
 into the town," said Miss Mary. 
 
 " I am afraid," said Sophia, " we shall not 
 be able to find pins enough : I do not carry a 
 pincushion. 
 
 " Oh, no, nor I!" cried both the Miss 
 Jenkins's, shocked that it should be for a mo- 
 ment supposed, that they stooped to the vulga- 
 rity of wearing a pocket. 
 
 tf All that remains to be done, then," said 
 Mr. Clarkson, " is, that you must walk on as 
 you are $ and we will buy a ha'p'orth of pins, at 
 the first little shop we come to." 
 
 " Walk on as I am !" shrieked Miss Jen- 
 kins : " I will go home first ! " 
 
 " There is no necessity for your doing 
 either, if you will allow me to assist you," 
 said Rachel. 
 
 " Oh, I shall be vastly obliged to you, I am 
 sure, my dear!" replied Miss Jenkins. 
 
 f Rachel drew off her gloves : and taking a 
 thread-case from her pocket, threaded a needle, 
 and began to sew up the slit. Miss Jenkins 
 said nothing; but cast an expressive glance 
 
RACHEL. 117 
 
 at her sister, who, with less ceremony, ex- 
 claimed 
 
 ee Bless my goodness ! Miss Porter, do you 
 carry your father's shop in your pocket ?" 
 
 " No, madam,'* said Rachel, calmly, "only 
 a sample of the goods." 
 
 Miss Mary blushed, and turned awayj 
 Tomkins smiled, and Rachel continued her 
 employment. 
 
 As it appeared that it would take "more 
 time to repair the fracture, than suited the pa- 
 tience of either Sophia or Miss Mary, it was 
 proposed that Clarkson and his companions 
 should proceed, and Tomkins and the other 
 ladies rejoin them at a fruit-shop in the town. 
 Happy in being released, they gladly accepted 
 the proposal, and were soon out of sight. 
 
 When at length they entered the town, 
 they proceeded to the fruit-shop, and found 
 that neither Clarkson nor the young ladies had 
 been there. 
 
 " I thought it would be so, I declare," 
 said Miss Jenkins 5 " and, really, my dear, 
 though I am very much obliged to you, yet I 
 now more than ever regret that you bestowed 
 so much time and trouble on my dress." 
 
 Rachel coloured violently $ probably, at 
 
118 RACHEL. 
 
 that moment, she would have been well pleased 
 had she seen Miss Jenkins's garment in its late 
 deplorable condition $ but she stifled the indig- 
 nant reply that rose to her lips, and merely 
 said, " That their absence was the more extra- 
 ordinary, as the delay had given them more 
 time." 
 
 Having waited a long while, and their 
 patience being quite exhausted, Tomkins pro- 
 posed seeking them. 
 
 " But, pray, make haste ! " said Miss Jen- 
 kins ; " I am almost sinking with confusion, 
 at the idea of staying so long exposed to the 
 eyes of the vulgar multitude, in a public shop." 
 
 The shop-woman, though she understood 
 nothing of the delicate distress expressed in this 
 speech, yet hearing something about staying 
 so long in the shop, civilly asked her to walk 
 into an adjoining parlour, which, as it com- 
 manded an excellent view of the street, she did 
 not hesitate in doing. Rachel followed, and 
 seated herself at a window, where, totally re- 
 gardless of <s the eyes of the vulgar multitude," 
 she watched, with eager anxiety, every passing 
 object, in hopes of discovering her brother. 
 She now found how vague was the appoint- 
 ment she had made with him ; and experienced 
 
RACHEL. 119 
 
 an additional dislike towards Miss Jenkins, 
 whose sudden and unwelcome appearance had 
 prevented her from giving him more certain 
 directions. 
 
 Tomkins, in the mean time, had sought in 
 every likely and unlikely place, for the stray 
 sheep. He could gain no intelligence any 
 where. The people of the town, with whom 
 they were acquainted, had neither seen nor 
 heard of them $ and he was at last returning 
 to the fruit-shop, when a concourse of people 
 attracted his attention : " They cannot, surely, 
 be there," thought he 5 but scarcely had the 
 idea crossed his mind, before a gentleman 
 forced his way through the crowd, bearing in 
 his arms a woman, whom Tomkins instantly 
 knew to be Sophia ! 
 
 " Good heavens, Miss Miller ! " he ex- 
 claimed : <f what can be the meaning of 
 this!" 
 
 The stranger turned, and Tomkins recog- 
 nised Mrs. Burton's lodger. " How came 
 this lady in this condition?" demanded he; 
 for Sophia appeared perfectly senseless. 
 
 " And by what authority, sir, do you in- 
 quire ? " retorted Robert. 
 
120 RACHEL. 
 
 " This lady left home under my protection $ 
 and I am answerable to her friends for her 
 safety," replied Tomkins. 
 
 " You have, undoubtedly, proved yourself 
 worthy of such a trust, in leaving her exposed 
 to a scene like this," said Robert : " however, 
 I acknowledge your superior pretensions, and 
 wish you a good morning ! " 
 
 Tomkins knew not how to proceed. So- 
 phia could not be left in her present situation $ 
 and he doubted not that Mary Jenkins was in 
 the crowd, and, possibly, in the same condition : 
 his only resource was to make a friend of the 
 stranger. 
 
 " If," said he, addressing Robert, " If 
 you would do me the favour to convey this lady 
 to the house opposite to us, I should conceive 
 myself greatly obliged to you. I am in search 
 of another female friend, who, I have some 
 reason to believe, is in this crowd,'* 
 
 " Fetch her but, then, as fast as you can ! " 
 cried Robert : ' s I will do as you have desired $ 
 and shall stay with her till your return." 
 
 Tomkins mingled with the throng $ and 
 having, with some difficulty forced a passage 
 through it, he beheld, to his utter amazement, 
 
RACHEL. 121 
 
 Clarkson stripped and fighting. Without wait- 
 ing to inquire the cause of this disgraceful 
 spectacle, he looked hastily round for Miss 
 Mary, whom he soon perceived pale with fear, 
 and almost overcome with shame and vexation. 
 He drew her arm through his, without speak- 
 ing, and made the best of his way to the house 
 to which Robert had carried Sophia, who was 
 by this time recovered. 
 
 Robert was an entire stranger to his cousin 5 
 the families never having met since they were 
 infants : Mr. Miller resided at too great a dis- 
 tance from the metropolis, to render visiting 
 convenient to the time or purse of either. It 
 might, therefore, be termed their first inter- 
 view 5 and but for Tomkins's exclamation, 
 which had thrown some light on the subject, 
 he had, in all probability, betrayed himself, 
 when on recovering she had, in the most 
 plaintive voice, begged to know to whom she 
 was so much obliged : but he now evaded the 
 question, by saying, " To a gentleman, ma- 
 dain, who will be here, as soon as he shall have 
 found a lady for whom he is seeking." 
 
 Not long after, Tomkins and Miss Mary en- 
 tered, when the former having thanked Robert 
 for his assistance, entreated to be favoured with 
 
 G 
 
122 KACHEL. 
 
 an explanation of the extraordinary scene he 
 had witnessed. 
 
 It appeared, that on entering the fair, Clark- 
 son, who took a childish delight in the objects 
 around him, was unwilling to remain at the 
 fruit-shop, and proposed seeing some of the 
 shows, to pass away the time that would elapse 
 before the arrival of their companions, Miss 
 Mary seconded the proposal $ but Sophia ob- 
 jected she was fearful of missing them. 
 " Oh, there is no fear of that ! " said Mr. Clark- 
 son : ee they cannot be here for some time, we 
 know j and if they are at the shop a little be- 
 fore us, it will not signify." Still Sophia he- 
 sitated : she did not think it prudent to go with 
 no better guard than Clarkson $ but she could 
 not say so ; and she heartily wished she had 
 stayed behind. Unable, however, to resist the 
 persuasions of Miss Mary, and the teasing of 
 Clarkson, she at length consented to go ; and, 
 accordingly, had been dragged out of one show 
 into another, till she was completely fatigued. 
 Clarkson still persisted in seeing them all; and 
 attracted no little notice by his ridiculous ex- 
 clamations. Their conduct, too, began to be 
 noticed 3 and the people who had at first sup- 
 posed they were of a superior class, now ima- 
 
RACHEL. 123 
 
 gined them to be girls of light character. 
 Unconscious, however, of this degrading cir- 
 cumstance, Sophia suffered herself to be taken 
 to the last exhibition, which they were about 
 leaving, when the proprietor/ who had formed 
 the same opinion as his neighbours, offered to 
 salute her, which indignity was returned by a 
 blow from Clarkson. The man's rage exceed- 
 ed all bounds ; and, after a furious contest in 
 the show, they descended to fight it out: a 
 ring was formed, and the combatants began. 
 The terrified girls in vain endeavoured to make 
 their escape: hemmed in on all sides by the 
 crowd that quickly assembled, they were com* 
 pelled to be witnesses of the scene, and to 
 listen to language the most insulting 5 till 
 overcome with contending emotions, Sophia 
 had fainted, and had been carried out of the 
 throng by Robert, who with the rest had been 
 attracted to the spot. 
 
 " Had we not better join our friends at the 
 fruit-shop ? " asked Tomkins : f< we hare been 
 absent so long, that I fear they will be 
 alarmed." 
 
 " But what is to become of Mr. Clarkson ?" 
 said Miss Mary : <c he will be looking for us 
 all day!" 
 
124 RACHEL. 
 
 " He, surely, is old enough to take care of 
 himself! " replied Tomkins. (f At any rate, 1 
 do not see the occasion we have to look 
 after him : in all probability he will go to the 
 fruit-shop, where we can leave a message for 
 him." 
 
 " Will you allow me to assist you in escort- 
 ing the ladies ? " said Robert. 
 
 " For my own part, I shall be glad of your 
 company," replied Tomkins ; " and I hope 
 one of the ladies will enable me to repay part 
 of the obligation you have laid me under." 
 
 After a few more replies and rejoinders they 
 left the house. Robert offered his arm to So- 
 phia, and Tomkins and Miss Mary led the 
 way. 
 
 Rachel had been watching at the little par- 
 lour window, till she had given up all hope of 
 seeing her brother. She was also becoming 
 uneasy on Sophia's account) for she was un- 
 able to conjecture the cause of Tomkins's long 
 absence, without supposing some accident had 
 befallen her cousin. As for Miss Jenkins, she 
 was as disagreeable as fretfulness could make 
 her j wondering at every thing, and blaming 
 every body. 
 
 At length Tomkins and his party returned. 
 
RACHEL. 125 
 
 ff I am afraid you have thought us long," said 
 he 3 "but" 
 
 " You are the more welcome now you are 
 come/' interrupted Miss Jenkins, with one of 
 her sweetest smiles. 
 
 Rachel, on her brother's entrance, with dif- 
 ficulty suppressed an expression of delight 3 
 and she turned to the window to recover her 
 self-possession. She dreaded the unguarded 
 temper of Robert so much, that she remained 
 in the same position, even when Tomkins said, 
 " Give me leave, ladies, to introduce a gentle- 
 man, who has rendered me material assistance 
 this morning." " Well ! it will only be thought 
 a part of my usual character," thought she j 
 " and I dare not face him, let them think 
 what they will ! " But Sophia had observed her 
 motions, and as she thought that in the natu- 
 ral course of things, love must follow so ro- 
 mantic an introduction as hers had been, she 
 had forgotten all her mortification, and was in 
 excellent spirits : tapping Rachel on the shoul- 
 der, she said, " Why do you not bid the stran- 
 ger welcome ? " 
 
 Rachel was now obliged to turn 5 and the 
 fear of Robert's surprise tinged her cheek with 
 crimson, which was increased to the deepest 
 
126 RACHEL. 
 
 shade, by his exclaiming, (< Lucky beyond my 
 hopes ! my dear girl, how " but suddenly 
 recollecting himself, he retreated, asking ten 
 thousand pardons : " the strong likeness to an 
 intimate friend had misled him." 
 
 The party looked at each other with asto- 
 nishment. Miss Mary cast a glance at her 
 sister, that was meant to express ' < Did I not 
 tell you they were more intimate than they 
 chose to appear!" 
 
 Sophia saw her high-raised hopes " fade 
 like the baseless fabric of a vision ; " and all the 
 suspicions Tomkins had entertained, respecting 
 the motive of Rachel's visits to the cottage, 
 forcibly recurred to his remembrance. 
 
 Rachel felt herself the object of general ob- 
 servation $ and willing to start any conversa- 
 tion, that by withdrawing their attention would 
 put an end to her embarrassment, inquired for 
 Clarkson* Tomkins very concisely related the 
 cause of his absence j and when Miss Jenkins 
 and Rachel had offered their condolements, and . 
 Miss Mary had sufficiently expressed her anger, 
 and Sophia her regret at the circumstance, they 
 agreed to repair to the house of the friend with 
 whom they intended to dine. Rachel was in 
 an agony : Robert must of course leave them j 
 
RACHEL. 127 
 
 and probably she should not see him again. A 
 few words would explain her business : and as 
 the party left the room, she lingered, and said, 
 f ' Dear Robert ! all further stay is useless : go 
 while our secret is safe 5 send me your direc- 
 tion, and I will write when any thing of con- 
 sequence transpires:" then hastily adding, 
 " God bless you ! " she hurried after them. 
 
 Robert took his leave at the door 5 and as 
 he turned the corner of the street, an unbidden 
 sigh heaved the bosom of Rachel : it said no- 
 thing, but it conveyed a variety of sentiments 
 to the minds of its auditors. 
 
 The ill consequences of the morning's ad- 
 venture were sensibly felt by the ladies as they 
 repassed through the fair; and so mortified 
 were they by the sneers of the women, and 
 the jokes of the men, that they unanimously 
 resolved to return home directly after dinner $ 
 which they accordingly did, to the great satis- 
 faction of Tomkins, who made a secret vow, 
 that as it had been the first, so it should be the 
 last time he would undertake to conduct four 
 young inexperienced women to a fair. 
 
KACHEt. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 ?|$B9 
 
 " I HAVE something of great importance to tell 
 you, my dear,'* said Miss Jenkins, passing her 
 arm through Sophia's, as they walked home, 
 " if you are inclined to hear it ! " 
 
 Sophia made no objection : and Miss Jen- 
 kins, thus authorised, unfolded all her doubts, 
 suspicions, and surmises, respecting Rachel : 
 (f Now, for my part, I think Mrs. Mason ought 
 to be informed," she continued : " indeed, she 
 ought to have known it long ago $ for the ac- 
 quaintance is evidently of long standing $ but 
 what a task, for any one to inform her of a 
 thing of so much delicacy ! I am sure it would 
 make my heart bleed to be obliged to do it ! " 
 
 " Fortunately," said Sophia, " you are not 
 under the necessity of doing it." 
 
 " But do you not think she ought to be 
 told ? " eagerly demanded Miss Jenkins. 
 
 ( Really, I scarcely know what to think 
 about it : it is a very unpleasant business ! " 
 
RACHEL. 129 
 
 " Unpleasant!" cried Mies Jenkins. " I 
 should not at all be surprised if it ended in 
 something worse than unpleasant, if it is not 
 timely stopped! but, pray, don't let me per- 
 suade you ! only, if I were in your place, I 
 should think it my duty, that is all." 
 
 (( I am sure J do not know what to do for 
 the best !" said Sophia : ef how would you act, 
 if it were one of your sisters ?" 
 
 " I have already told you ! " replied Miss 
 Jenkins, with an air that expressed more than 
 the most eloquent oration. 
 
 " You have convinced me of the propriety 
 of your arguments," said Sophia, after a long 
 pause; " but I am afraid my resolution will 
 fail me ! If you would take the burthen off my 
 hands, how greatly should I be obliged to 
 you!*' 
 
 This was exactly what Miss Jenkins had 
 been aiming at. Sophia's judgment was by 
 no means the soundest in the world j and her 
 companion was perfectly aware, that by a little 
 management she might be brought to ask as a 
 favour, what another would have considered 
 an insult 5 but she resolved to enhance the va- 
 lue of her compliance, by a seemingly delicate 
 
 06 
 
13O KACHEL. 
 
 unwillingness. " Consider, my dear," said 
 she, " the strange appearance of my interfering 
 in your family: domestic concerns should 
 never be exposed to a stranger's examination !" 
 
 " How considerate you are !" exclaimed 
 Sophia : " but it cannot be thought at all 
 strange, when it is recollected that you have 
 more knowledge of the affair than I have.*' 
 
 "True!" said Miss Jenkins^ "and only 
 that consideration could induce me to oblige 
 you." 
 
 It was then agreed that Sophia should take 
 no notice of the affair, and that Miss Jenkins 
 should call the next morning, and give the ne- 
 cessary information $ when Sophia, if called 
 upon, might corroborate the truth of the state- 
 ment. 
 
 " One great advantage," thought Sophia, 
 " that I shall derive from not being the in- 
 former is, that Rachel will not be able to ac- 
 cuse me of causing dissension between her and 
 my aunt :" but this idea proved how little she 
 was acquainted with her cousin's disposition. 
 
 Rachel, unsuspecting the approaching storm, 
 had, with her companions, walked in almost 
 uninterrupted silence : she, ruminating on her 
 
RACHEL. 131 
 
 brother Miss Mary, tired and mortified and 
 Tomkins, filled with conjectures respecting 
 Robert felt little inclination to talk, 
 
 When they reached home, their quick re- 
 turn excited universal surprise, which was 
 soon accounted for by a short relation of their 
 adventures ; and the grave looks of the whole 
 party, though in fact proceeding from very 
 different causes, were all placed to the same 
 account. 
 
 The following morning, as Mrs. Mason 
 and her nieces were conversing on the occur- 
 rences of the preceding day, and just as the 
 former had concluded a long comment on the 
 disagreeable consequences, which had arisen 
 from her too ready compliance with the wishes 
 of others, and demonstrated how they might all 
 have been avoided, had Sophia acted more firmly 
 on the occasion, Tomkins was announced. 
 He had called, he said, to inquire after the 
 health of his fair fellow-travellers, who, he 
 hoped, had recovered their fatigue : " though,' ' 
 continued he, turning to Sophia, <f 1 am afraid 
 my hopes are without foundation, and that you 
 still feel the effects of yesterday's indisposi- 
 tion ! " 
 
132 RACHEL. 
 
 Sophia did, indeed, look pale very pale ! 
 not, as he imagined, from her former illness, 
 but from the momentary dread of Miss Jen- 
 kins's appearance; and scarcely had she time 
 to assure him <e she was perfectly well," before 
 the object of her apprehensions entered. 
 
 She bowed gravely to Mrs. Mason, smiled 
 at Tomkins, shook hands with Sophia, and, 
 without taking any notice of Rachel, sat down. 
 Her presence seemed to cast a damp on the 
 spirits of every one ; but on none more than 
 Sophia, who trembled as if attacked by an 
 ague fit. 
 
 Tomkins saw the indignant blush, which 
 the pointed rudeness of Miss Jenkins had 
 raised on Rachel's cheek $ and willing to divert 
 her mortified feelings, addressed some conver- 
 sation to her, without attending to the former 
 lady's remark on that endless topic, the weather. 
 This roused all the malignant passions in her 
 bosom to such a degree, that she resolved to 
 expose her rival without delay ; and, heedless 
 of the presence of Tomkins, which, indeed, 
 was a circumstance that gave her much plea- 
 sure, she thus addressed Mrs. Mason : " My 
 present visit, madam, is paid for the purpose 
 
RACHEL. 13 
 
 of explaining a disagreeable business, which 
 my friend Sophia, and myself, join in thinking 
 you should be made acquainted with." 
 
 " Why, then," said Mrs. Mason, not know- 
 ing what to understand by this preamble 
 " why, then, did not Sophia inform me of it 
 herself?" 
 
 " The extreme delicacy of her sensibility is 
 such," replied Miss Jenkins, " that she could 
 not resolve to attempt it unaided 5 particularly 
 as it is a business of much moment to your 
 peace." 
 
 " What do you mean, Miss Jenkins?" de- 
 manded Mrs. Mason, somewhat alarmed : - 
 S what am I to understand ? I must intreat 
 you to speak more plainly !" 
 
 " I am only withheld by motives of consi- 
 deration for that lady," said Miss Jenkins, 
 glancing at Rachel, " who may perhaps ob- 
 ject to its being mentioned before witnesses." 
 
 " Who } I ?" exclaimed Rachel, with great 
 astonishment : " what objection can I possi- 
 bly have to your mentioning a business, in 
 which, most probably, I have little, if any, 
 concern ?" 
 
 <f Pardon me, madam !" replied Miss Jen- 
 
134 RACHEL, 
 
 kins : " this business greatly concerns you, and 
 you alone." 
 
 ft I wish you a good morning, ladies !" 
 said Tomkins, rising. 
 
 " Nay, sir !" said Rachel j " to prove how 
 little I fear this dreadful accusation, I must beg 
 you will remain." 
 
 f< Excuse me : not to-day." 
 
 " Most probably you will not be presented 
 with such a scene any. other day," returned 
 Rachel $ " and as you have heard part of my 
 accusation, it is but an act of justice to stay 
 and hear my defence." 
 
 " Do not do not ask him to stay !" articu- 
 lated Sophia, gasping for breath: f< he will 
 witness against you!" 
 
 <e Nay, then," said Rachel, " I must in- 
 sist on his staying. At present 1 do not at 
 all comprehend your meaning $ but with his 
 assistance I may, perhaps, be made to under- 
 stand. Indeed, sir," she continued, observing 
 he was about to object, " you must oblige me ! 
 Were you to leave the house now, judging from 
 the solemnity of Miss Jenkins, and the distress 
 of my cousin, your suspicions might be even 
 worse than the truth/' 
 
RACHEL. 135 
 
 Tomkins resumed his seat. 
 
 <c Now we are ready to hear you !" said 
 Rachel to Miss Jenkins, who began to be 
 heartily sorry she had mentioned it at all. 
 Rachel's behaviour greatly disconcerted her, and 
 she was apprehensive her tale would reflect as 
 much odium on herself as on Rachel 5 but she 
 had gone too far to recede $ and, with great he- 
 sitation, she related the wonderful story, which 
 amounted to no more, than that she had met 
 Miss Porter, and a gentleman inquiring his way 
 of her in a field : and the circumstance on 
 which Tomkins was called on to give his evi- 
 dence was, that the same gentleman had fami- 
 liarly accosted her at the fair, but the next 
 moment had asked pardon for having mistaken 
 her for an intimate acquaintance a circum- 
 stance not altogether so improbable, but that 
 most people had met with the same, in some 
 part or other of their lives. 
 
 " And this is all!" said Rachel, when she 
 had concluded : ff upon my word, Miss Jen- 
 kins, I am greatly obliged to you for alarming 
 my aunt, distressing my cousin, and perplex- 
 ing myself." 
 
 But the real truth had darted into the mind 
 of Mrs. Mason 5 and, when she compared the 
 
136 RACHEL. 
 
 time of Rachel's visits to the cottage, with 
 that of Robert's disappearance from London, 
 she wondered it had never struck her before. 
 Fixing her eyes stedfastly on Rachel, she 
 asked her, t If she could with truth deny all 
 knowledge of the stranger ?" 
 
 Unprepared for this inquiry, Rachel colour- 
 ed deeply, and before she could make any an- 
 swer, Miss Jenkins exclaimed 
 
 " I am sure I shall be very glad to hear it 
 all explained ; and Miss Porter must see the 
 necessity of explaining it, if she can." 
 
 Whether Miss Jenkins possessed penetra- 
 tion enough to know that this speech would 
 effectually close Rachel's lips, or whether it 
 was dictated by chance, is uncertain -, but it 
 certainly had that effect. 
 
 Rachel possessed one foible in an eminent 
 degree ; and that was an invincible dislike to 
 appear to be ruled by the opinions of others : 
 and she would rather have acted directly oppo- 
 site to her own judgment, than allow herself 
 to be dictated to by any one. Never had she 
 proved to what an extent this weakness would 
 carry her, so much as on the present occasion. 
 She had, from the first, suspected the subject of 
 Miss Jenkins's communication, and had en- 
 
RACHEL. 137 
 
 joyed the idea of being at liberty to exculpate 
 herself without injury to Robert, who was, she 
 doubted not, by this time far on his road to 
 Cumberland 5 but the moment these words 
 escaped Miss Jenkins, her determination was 
 instantly changed, and she resolved " to act 
 as she pleased." 
 
 Turning, therefore, to Miss Jenkins, with 
 a sarcastic smile, she said, " I am greatly ob- 
 liged to you, madam, for your directions, but 
 must take the liberty of judging for myself 5 
 and I shall therefore decline entering into any 
 explanation on the subject, even though you so 
 decidedly recommend it. And give me leave to 
 say, that your interference on this occasion ap- 
 pears to me both unnecessary and impertinent : 
 had my cousin acted as she ought to have done, 
 she would have informed my aunt, and spared 
 me the mortification of owing the obligation 
 to you. To you, madam," she continued, ad- 
 dressing her aunt, " more consideration is due 3 
 and though 1 do not choose to gratify an idle 
 curiosity, yet 1 trust you will believe me when 
 1 assure you, that however imprudent I may 
 appear, it is in appearance only. I have lived 
 with you long enough for you to know how 
 different my real disposition is, to any thing of 
 
138 RACHEL. 
 
 the kind imputed to me ; and, surely, you are 
 too just to suffer one single circumstance to 
 shake the experience of years. It is from our 
 general conduct, and not from one incident, 
 that our character should be judged. I wish 
 you all good morning !" and with an air, almost 
 amounting to dignity, she left the room. 
 
 Tomkins, who had been an unwilling spec- 
 tator of this scene, was much pleased with 
 Rachel's last speech : something like sense 
 had appeared through the whole - } and the sen- 
 timent with which it concluded served him as 
 a maxim for the rest of his life - indeed, he 
 made an immediate application of it $ for had 
 not Rachel's <e general conduct" been that of 
 an ignorant person, he would, from this " one 
 incident," have pronounced her a sensible girl. 
 
 Mrs. Mason, on whose mind not the shadow 
 of a doubt remained as to Robert's being the 
 stranger, endeavoured to explain to her guests 
 that it was a relation passing through the vil- 
 lage 5 but a slight difficulty occurred to prevent 
 their belief. Tomkins, though he said no- 
 thing, knew that this bird of passage had been 
 a resident with Mrs. Burton a considerable 
 time 5 and Miss Jenkins, less scrupulous, men- 
 tioned having seen him in the fields with Ra- 
 
RACHEL. 139 
 
 chel, at least a week before the fair : besides, 
 how came Mrs. Mason and Sophia to be unac- 
 quainted with this movement of their relation ? 
 Mrs. Mason did not choose to explain Robert's 
 cause for concealment, and her visitors left her: 
 one convinced, that however appearances might 
 be against her, Rachel had not been guilty of 
 any flagrant indecorum $ and the other equally 
 satisfied, that she ought to be expelled the 
 company of all women of character. 
 
 Three weeks now passed, unmarked by any 
 extraordinary occurrence $ during which time 
 neither reasoning nor persuasion had been able 
 to induce Rachel to explain the mystery $ al- 
 though she could not affect ignorance of the 
 consequences of her conduct. The total neglect 
 of the Jenkins's, and the frigid ceremonious 
 politeness of those who did not entirely decline 
 noticing her, while it mortified and distressed 
 her, served only to strengthen her determina- 
 tion of setting them all at defiance $ nor would 
 she acknowledge, even to her aunt, that their 
 behaviour gave her the least uneasiness. She 
 knew, that if the truth were once confessed to 
 Mrs. Mason, it would be explained to every 
 one. " But never," thought she, " shall they 
 suppose they have forced me to a confession, 
 
140 RACHEL. 
 
 by their half-closed eyes, their contemptuous 
 smiles, and the rest of their ridiculous foolery ! 
 never shall they suppose their smiles 01 
 frowns have any influence on my happiness. 
 Oh, no ! the contempt I have for them all will 
 at least, prevent that." 
 
 But in spite of these, and similar senti 
 ments, when a half-averted glance had been al 
 the notice she had received from a formerly in- 
 timate acquaintance, the deepest crimson woulc 
 mantle her cheek, and for the moment cans* 
 her to wish she had been more explicit. Bui 
 this regret was usually succeeded by (t Wha 
 a fool I am to care a straw about it !" and i 
 soliloquy, similar to the above, restored he: 
 feelings to their wonted tranquillity. 
 
 What distressed her, above all, was Tom- 
 kins's approaching departure, who talked o; 
 leaving E the following week 5 and it re- 
 quired all her philosophy to enable her to per- 
 sist in her resolution : for whether it was tc 
 mortify those he did not like, or gratify those 
 he did, he had been particularly attentive to hei 
 ever since slander had been so busy with hei 
 fame. ' ' 1 should not care,*' she would think, 
 (C if there were any chance of his hearing of the 
 subject after he leaves us, but that in all pro- 
 
RACHEL. 141 
 
 bability he never will ; to be sure, in that case 
 he will most likely forget it altogether : well ! 
 there is some comfort in that." But, with all 
 the comfort it conveyed, she could not help 
 regretting that he would not hear of it, and 
 hear it explained. 
 
 Notwithstanding the declaration she had 
 always made, that the opinion of the world had 
 no weight with her, and never should induce 
 her to act otherwise than as suited her own in- 
 clination, a considerable difference had of late 
 been observable in her behaviour : three seve- 
 ral times she had been seen to take off her 
 apron before she entered the parlour, when she 
 knew Tomkins was in it 5 and once had ac- 
 tually been heard to declare, that she wished 
 she possessed a portion of Miss Jenkins's man- 
 ners. Mrs. Mason, who beheld the change 
 with equal surprise and pleasure, one day ex- 
 pressed a desire to be informed of the cause of 
 this alteration in her sentiments. 
 
 " Do not think," she replied, " that I would 
 make any great sacrifices to obtain that easiness 
 of manners, which so eminently distinguishes 
 some of my former acquaintance ; but I begin 
 to perceive, that a total want of refinement is 
 
142 RACHEL. 
 
 almost as bad as a superfluity : in other words, 
 I would say, that my awkwardness is becoming 
 troublesome to myself, and I am, therefore, de- 
 sirous of shaking it off ; though I do not mean 
 to learn either Latin or Greek to effect it." 
 
 " I am pleased with your resolution^ and 
 have little doubt of your success," said her 
 aunt : " and though," continued she, smiling, 
 " you some time ago told me you would have 
 no instructor but myself, I perceive you have 
 condescended to learn of those two able teach- 
 ers, Time and Experience." 
 
 Rachel blushed : " Time and experience, 
 madam, have merely proved the truth of your 
 assertions." 
 
 This conversation had taken place some 
 time previous to the fair-expedition ; and Mrs. 
 Mason was, therefore, more surprised at her 
 present conduct than she would otherwise have 
 been. She considered it due to her own repu- 
 tation, as well as that of her niece, to have the 
 present business satisfactorily explained ; and 
 finding all arguments on the subject useless, 
 she came to the resolution of sending her 
 home. 
 
 Rachel received the information as if it 
 
RACHEL, 143 
 
 had been a thunder-stroke. The possibility of 
 such a thing happening, had never entered her 
 mind -, but thinking it would now appear mean- 
 ness to yield to menaces, what she had denied 
 to intreaties, she felt less inclination than ever 
 to comply with the conditions 5 and, accord- 
 ingly, an early day in the ensuing week was 
 fixed on, as the time of her removal. 
 
 With a heavy heart, but an unbending spi- 
 rit, she beheld the necessary preparations $ and 
 one evening stole out to indulge her reflections 
 without interruption. The evening was mild 
 and serene : the unbroken silence suited well 
 with her feelings $ while the idea, that she was 
 about leaving, perhaps for ever, the place in 
 which she had known so many happy hours, 
 filled her eyes with tears. She would willingly 
 have parted with the thing she most valued, 
 could Robert have surmised her situation, as 
 she knew nothing would prevent his coming 
 to vindicate her $ but pride forbade her writ- 
 ing to inform him : and she was about return- 
 ing to the house, with slow and irregular steps, 
 when Tomkins's well-known voice accosting 
 her, disturbed her meditations. 
 
 " I am happy in having met you," said he, 
 
144 RACHEL. 
 
 " as I am going to your house to take leave, 
 and should not otherwise have seen you." 
 
 " To take leave!" exclaimed Rachel : " are 
 you going so soon ?" 
 
 < Can you call it soon ? " asked Tomkins : 
 " do you recollect, that nearly four months 
 have elapsed since my arrival. 
 
 " Indeed ! I should not have thought it : 
 how short the time appears." 
 
 " What a compliment you have paid me, 
 Miss Porter ! could I dare give it all the mean- 
 ing of which it is susceptible, I should not be 
 able to resist the temptation of prolonging my 
 visit, in defiance of the many and urgent calls 
 for my presence elsewhere." 
 
 f< Were you disposed to be so imprudent," 
 returned Rachel, with a faint smile, " I should 
 have no reason to consider myself the induce- 
 ment, as I also leave E next week." 
 
 S Indeed ! is it not very sudden ?" 
 Yes no yes/' replied Rachel, colour- 
 ing : " Mrs. Mason my aunt, I mean that 
 is, I am going home." 
 
 " You will, doubtless, regret leaving Mrs. 
 Mason ? " observed Tomkins, for want of some- 
 thing better to say. 
 
RACHEL. 145 
 
 "Very deeply!'* replied Rachel, with a 
 sigh 5 " but you know 
 
 " Of chance or change, O, let not man complain ! 
 Else shall he never, never cease to wail ! " 
 
 " How is this !" thought Tomkins : ef how 
 greatly have I been mistaken ! but I will try 
 you a little further. The truth/' said he, "con- 
 tained in the first four lines of that stanza, is as 
 indisputable as constant experience can make 
 it : but do you not think the author has al- 
 lowed himself rather too much latitude in the 
 conclusion ? " 
 
 " Read what our Saviour says, that even 
 heaven and earth shall pass away, and you will 
 then allow, that our poet has not exceeded the 
 bounds of probability. Beattie was a Christian, 
 and, consequently, would not, for the sake of 
 his poetry, trespass on forbidden ground." 
 
 " Do you then call Imagination's flowery 
 paths forbidden ground ? " asked Tomkinsi 
 
 c< Not while they are confined to things, of 
 which our own reason will justify the suppo- 
 sition 5 but when they presume to lead the 
 mind, to an experimental examination of those 
 which the Almighty has hidden from our un- 
 
 H 
 
146 RACHEL. 
 
 derstanding, it certainly becomes forbidden 
 ground; and such as, in my opinion, no real 
 Christian would venture upon." 
 
 " But, surely, you do not exclude all those, 
 who have written on such abstruse subjects, 
 from the list of Christians ?" 
 
 " It is a subject on which I am not quali- 
 fied to decide," answered she : <f all I can say 
 is, that I have been taught to consider them as, 
 at least, mistaken.' 1 
 
 This conversation brought them to the 
 house; and during his visit, Sophia asked 
 Tomkins on what day he proposed leaving 
 them. " Information from London will de- 
 termine the exact day," he replied ; " but, at 
 all events, I shall go sometime next week;" 
 and then, repeating his parting compliments, 
 he withdrew; musing all the way home on 
 Rachel, who, he was now convinced, possessed 
 as much sense, if not as much sensibility, as 
 her cousin. 
 
 The following day was one of triumph and 
 exultation to Rachel : it brought a letter from 
 Mrs. Porter, informing them, that Robert had 
 been appointed to the situation, for which 
 an application had been made some time 
 N previous. " Our only difficulty," continued 
 
RACHEL. 147 
 
 she, " is in discovering the place to which he 
 has withdrawn 3 as his father is now of opi- 
 nion, that the length of time he has been 
 exiled from his friends will have had the same 
 salutary effect, that was anticipated from a tem- 
 porary confinement ; and we are now desirous 
 of recalling and settling him in his new situa- 
 tion." 
 
 Rachel's delight on this occasion was be- 
 yond description. She could not, in justice 
 to her brother, remain silent any longer -, and 
 it also ended all her perplexity, without allow- 
 ing her enemies to suppose they had had any 
 share in forcing the secret from her. With al- 
 most breathless agitation she acquainted Mrs. 
 Mason with Robert's present abode 3 and sub- 
 mitted very patiently to a long lecture from 
 tha tlady, on the serious consequences that had 
 nearly followed her inflexible obstinacy. 
 
 Rachel, however, would not at that time 
 own she lamented her conduct, though she 
 readily acknowledged her extreme satisfaction 
 in having escaped its effects. 
 
 Information was immediately dispatched to 
 Robert, who, in a few days, again became an 
 
 inhabitant of E- $ but with this difference, 
 
 that his presence, which had formerly been a 
 
14S RACHEL. 
 
 subject of constant uneasiness to Rachel, now 
 gave her the most unfeigned pleasure 5 whilst 
 the returning smiles of her aunt completed her 
 happiness.. 
 
 Sophia was greatly surprised, and some- 
 what disappointed, to find the elegant stranger, 
 into whose arms she had fainted, turn out to 
 be a haberdasher's son, and, what was still 
 worse, her own cousin. But she gave no words 
 to her disappointment, well knowing it was 
 not from either her aunt, or Rachel, that she 
 could expect sympathy. 
 
 None could more sincerely rejoice at Ra- 
 chel's exculpation, than her good friends the 
 Simpsons. The old lady was perfectly delight- 
 ed 5 and incessantly called on every one around 
 her to testify to her constant declaration, that 
 her favourite's innocence would one day be 
 proved. Tomkins, too, was not at all dis- 
 pleased at beholding, in Rachel's brother, the 
 mysterious inhabitant of Mrs. Burton's cot- 
 tage. He had been pleased with Robert's 
 manners at the fair) and as he now shook 
 him cordially by the hand, he desired, with 
 great sincerity, that they might be better ac- 
 quainted. 
 
 The vicar, during the time of Rachel's dis- 
 
RACHEL. 149 
 
 grace, had shrugged up his shoulders, and 
 wondered how people could be at all surprised 
 ; at the matter ! " She has no inward resources," 
 he would say, " and, consequently, must look 
 for her amusements in outward objects. Had it, 
 indeed, been her cousin, all this astonishment 
 would have been very natural." But even he 
 now declared, that he had mistaken Miss Por- 
 ter's character; and that it required a mind 
 somewhat stronger than he had imagined her 
 to possess, to have acted with so much resolu- 
 tion. 
 
 The gracious smiles, nods, and sincere con- 
 gratulations of the Miss Jenkins's, were re- 
 ceived by Rachel with far more indifference 
 than their late supercilious neglect : but as she 
 had scorned to suffer her mortification at the 
 one to appear, so she equally avoided any 
 studied neglect of their attentions, lest they 
 should suppose she condescended to think the 
 other* worthy of a similar return. When, there- 
 fore, they called to express their regret at past, 
 and their satisfaction at present circumstances, 
 and to hope that she would still rank them 
 among her friends $ she coolly replied, that she 
 was much obliged to them, and could assure 
 
150 RACHEL. 
 
 them, that the late occurrences would make no 
 alteration in her sentiments. 
 
 As Robert's immediate presence in London 
 was not required, and as he had not seen his 
 aunt for some years, he determined to stay a 
 
 few days at E , and accompany Tomkins 
 
 to town, to whom he had greatly attached 
 himself. 
 
 Mrs. Simpson, who never enjoyed herself 
 so much as when surrounded by her friends, 
 insisted on giving, what she called, a farewel 
 supper to the young menj at which Mrs. 
 Mason, and her nieces, were of course to be 
 present. 
 
 It was the evening before their departure, 
 and none of the party were in very exuberant 
 spirits : though they all assured the solicitous 
 Mrs. Simpson, that they were never more com- 
 fortable in their lives. 
 
 ct I wonder,'* said the good lady, " how 
 long it will be, before I have the pleasure of 
 seeing you all assembled beneath my roof 
 again ! * ' 
 
 " Not long, I hope!" said her husband. 
 " Observe, Tomkins, I shall not allow you a 
 very long leave of absence 5 for since you have 
 
RACHEL. 151 
 
 at length found your way here, I shall sup- 
 pose you consider us the most disagreeable 
 people in the world, if you do not frequently 
 pay us a visit." 
 
 " Believe me, sir," replied Tomkins, ff the 
 happiness I have enjoyed beneath your roof> 
 will never be effaced from my mind. I have 
 only to apprehend, that my visits will be so 
 frequent, that you will shortly Consider my ap- 
 pearance troublesome." 
 
 " Do not be under any fear of that kind,'* 
 returned his host $ " for be assured I will give 
 you the first information when that is the 
 case.*' 
 
 f< As for you,'* said Mrs. Simpson, smiling 
 kindly at Robert, ef since I do not suppose you 
 always intend raising such a commotion when 
 you come, I shall be glad to see you at any 
 time j which is, I think, more than Rachel will 
 say : at least, I would not, if I was her." 
 
 (e K I were she" said Sophia, with a mark- 
 ed emphasis, " I should consider the pleasure 
 of serving my brother, an ample equivalent for 
 the little disagreeables she has experienced." 
 
 The sentiment of fraternal affection reflected 
 credit on Sophia's heart: but Tomkins could 
 
152 RACHEL. 
 
 scarcely forbear exclaiming, ft How disgusting 
 is pedantry in a woman ! " 
 
 tf For my own part/' said Rachel, " though 
 I agree with my cousin, in thinking the plea- 
 sure of assisting my brother a sufficient recom- 
 pence$ and, were he to require it, I hope I 
 should not shrink from performing as much 
 again 5 yet I differ from her respecting the 
 little discomforts I have experienced, and can- 
 didly acknowledge, that they appeared to me 
 a severe trial : and so fully am I convinced of 
 the folly of my former sentiments, that no- 
 thing, I think, would tempt me to proceed to 
 such an extremity again. The opinion of the 
 world, next to that of our own conscience, is 
 necessary to our happiness j and it is wisely 
 ordained, for the preservation of the order of 
 society, that it should be so. I have gained it 
 dearly, but I have learned a lesson that will, I 
 hope, be of use to me all my life." 
 
 The next morning, Tomkins and Robert 
 left E 5 and it might have been remarked, 
 that the latter was in far better spirits than his 
 companion. He was returning, after a tedious 
 and reluctant absence, to the scene of all his 
 hopes and wishes. Tomkins left E with 
 
RACHEL. 153 
 
 even more regret than he had entered it, Then, 
 his reluctance had proceeded, not from his re- 
 gret at quitting the busy scenes of London, 
 but from the idea that his time would be spent, 
 not only without advantage, but even with 
 irksomeness $ and being one that regarded his 
 time as the most precious treasure he possessed, 
 the sacrifice appeared to him very considerable. 
 The result of his visit had been far different from 
 his expectation : he had not only passed four 
 months with pleasure to himself, but had found 
 an intelligent being, with whom he would have 
 been well contented to pass the remainder of 
 his life. 
 
 As, however, he has made no one his con- 
 fidant, time alone can discover in whose pos- 
 session he left his heart - 9 but it is expected his 
 next visit to E will ascertain the fact. 
 
 Mrs. Jenkins, even now, whispers with a 
 significant nod, and no less significant glance, 
 that that period will prove which of her daugh- 
 ters is to be the wife of Mr. Tomkins. 
 
 THE END. 
 
 T. Miller, Printer , Noble Street, 
 
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