\ EARLY FRIENDSHIPS. TTIS PIECE. EARLY FRIENDSHIPS. (Kale. BY MRS. COPLEY. LONDON: WILLIAM TEGG AND CO., 85, QUEEN-STREET, CHEAPSIDE. MDCCCLIII. EARLY FRIENDSHIPS. " BE cautious, my dear child, in your selection of an intimate friend." Such was among the counsels given by an ex- cellent mother, when about, for the first time, to part with a beloved daughter. " Dear mamma," replied Helen, " I shall never have any other friend than you : I want no other." " I doubt not, my dear, that such is your present feeling. Between a mother and child, who have lived together as we have done, there subsists not only a strength and tenderness of natural affection, but also an entireness of con- fidence, and freedom of communication, that can scarcely meet in any other relation. But you are now going into a circle of companions of your own age ; and, in the course of a very few weeks, I have no doubt you will find yourself susceptible of those feelings of preference which, ripening into intimacy, will assume the character of friendship." " Oh, mamma! I hope you do not think I shall ever love anybody better than you?" 2 EARLY FRIENDSHIPS. ';"'The inrinacy to which I refer, if properly directed and regulated, will not be likely to dis- place, -or .at -all to weaken, the hold which your mother at present has on-' your affections. You will love your friend much, but your mother not at all the less." " Then, mamma, what can be the difference between friendship and the love I bear to you?" " There will be the feeling of equality in the one case, which, in the other, can never exactly exist. It is impossible, as it is undesirable, for a child, in its intercourse with its parents, ever to lose sight altogether of its dependence upon them, or of the feeling that anything by which it can promote their comfort and gratification, is an act of gratitude, duty, and obedience. You can never forget who it is that has nourished, and cared for, and instructed you." " Oh no, dear mamma, I would not for the world forget it: 1 hope and trust I never shall." " I hope so too, my dear ; but, can you not realize the thought of cherishing a tender regard for a friend to whom you are under no such vast obligations, but with whom you can recipro- cate acts of kindness on an equal footing?" " Yes, mamma, I think I can imagine it." " Well, then, with a companion of your own age there will also be a sort of equality of pursuits and attainments, very favourable to intimacy of friendships. You know there are many things in which I take interest and pleasure, simply be- cause they are yours; such, for instance, as EARLY FRIENDSHIPS. 3 dressing your doll, or selecting the shades for your worsted- work. I should not have thought of attending to these things, to please myself, apart from you." " No, mamma, I am sure you would not; and therefore, it is all the more kind of you to do it for my sake." " But suppose, Helen, you had a young friend of your own age, engaged in pursuits like your own, should you not find a great pleasure in com- paring together your work and your play, and consulting about your plans and your progress?" "Oh yes, mamma; I think it would be very pleasant. If I wanted to talk to her about any little thing, I should not be afraid of interrupting her in anything of importance. Besides, I could help her, perhaps, as well as she could help me. There might be some things which I could tell her, that I have learnt of you, which, perhaps, she did not know before." " Perhaps so! Well, then, if you should thus become attached and kind to one another, you would be friends. Such a friendship you will most likely form; and I am anxious that you should be discreet in the choice of your friend, and steady and wise in the exercise of your friend- ship." " Mamma, whom should you advise me to have for a friend? Will not all the young ladies at Mrs. Gilbert's be my friends ?" " I hope you will live on terms of good-will and courtesy with all ; but it is most likely there 4 EARLY FRIENDSHIPS. will be some one or two whom you will reckon your chief friends towards whom you will cherish a stronger attachment, and with whom you will maintain more intimate intercourse than with the rest." " Well, mamma, I should like you to choose my friends for me : I am sure you would choose the best." " As I do not know any of the young ladies in Mrs. Gilbert's establishment, it is impossible for me even to recommend any one by name to your friendship; and, if I knew them all, though I might form my own opinion as to the most estimable and desirable among them, I could not command your feelings towards her. We may form an acquaintance, on the recommendation of one whose judgment we respect; but friendship must be a matter of personal election. I can, perhaps, furnish you with a few hints as to the character of a desirable friend, which may assist you in forming your choice." " Pray do, mamma; for though, as you some- times tell me, when I leave home I must learn to think and act for myself, it would be a very great guidance to me to know what you would think and wish." " Well, Helen, I shall be glad to furnish you with all the assistance in my power ; but I fancy my advice will be rather of the negative than the positive kind. In the first place, I would say, do not be hasty in your choice of a friend, or in your professions of friendship, lest you should be EARLY FRIENDSHIPS. 5 caught with superficial attractions, that will not stand the test of time and experience, and lest you should expose yourself to the charge of in- constancy, by professing regard for an individual, which a more mature knowledge of character will not justify. Another caution I would suggest is this : Do not give your friendship to one who flatters you, or professes a strong regard for you, before you have given her reason to do so. You remember the fable of the Eagle and the Tortoise, in that book which amused you so much when you were a little girl ?" "Yes, mamma; the eagle persuaded the tor- toise to mount on his back, and carried him up up in the air, far above the top of the mountains. The tortoise was delighted with his ride; but presently the eagle let him fall and killed him, for the sake of his flesh. But, mamma, I never used to read the morals of fables, and I do not exactly see what this has to do with choosing a friend." " I believe few children do attend to the morals of fables, at the time ; but, when they come to see more of men and manners, they are often led to recollect the sentiment, which was overlooked in the garb of fable. If any young lady should seek your favour and friendship, by affecting to admire you for beauty or accomplishments which you do not possess, or to make much of every little thing you do, as though it were extraordinarily clever and good, depend upon it she is acting the part of the eagle, and is attempting to lift you up in vanity B2 6 EARLY FRIENDSHIPS. and pride, only that she may profit by your fall. This is the sentiment of the fable; and I have never seen it falsified in real life." " Well, mamma, I am not to be hasty in choos- ing at all ; and I am not to choose one who flat- ters what else ?" " I would advise you not to take for your friend one who is inclined to tell you secrets, or who is very inquisitive about other people's affairs; nor one who is disposed to boast of the wealth and greatness of her family ; above all, have nothing to do with an artful girl, if there should happen to be one in the school, who would draw you into schemes for evading the requirements and restric- tions of the establishment, and tempt you to seek pleasure in anything that must be concealed from your parents or your governess. But I will not mention anything more on the subject at present; for, after all, I think it will rather tend to confuse than enlighten your mind, to speak of characters, while you have had no opportunity of seeing ex- amples of them. I wish you may not be exposed to any of the dangers against which I have cautioned you ; but that you may meet with some young friend, amiable, intelligent, sincere, humble, and generous ; and that you may wisely improve by her acquaintance and example, and steadily cherish her friendship." " Well, mamma, if I have a friend, I shall tell you all about it : that is what you always taught me to do, when I was not sure whether anything was good or bad, right or wrong; and, though I EARLY FRIENDSHIPS. 7 go away from you, I shall not leave off doing it. You know my life was saved, when I was quite a little girl, and my cousin Frederic gathered some red berries in the hedge, and told me they were currants. I thought they were currants, but I would not eat them till I had asked you; and you told me they were poison. Two little girls were killed with eating such berries, that same year; and Frederic and I might have been killed too, if it had not been for your teaching me to ask you whether things were proper." At the time of this conversation, Helen Somers was in her eleventh year. Hitherto she had been educated at home. By education, Mr. and Mrs. Somers did not, as many people do, merely or principally mean learning to read, and write, and sew, and draw, and dance, and play on a musical instrument ; though all these things were attended to in their proper place. The good parents of Helen had endeavoured to make her a healthy, lively little girl, by teaching her properly to use and exercise all her limbs and faculties; by ac- customing her to regularity and moderation in her food and rest, and giving her habits of cleanliness and activity. They had taught her to observe, and inquire into, and take pleasure in, the various objects of nature by which she was surrounded. She was also trained, from a very early age, to be obedient and kind. Thus she became intelligent and happy. At an age when some little girls are more troublesome and fretful than mere babies, and require somebody to be always employed in 8 EARLY FRIENDSHIPS. amusing them and keeping them out of mischief, Helen might be safely trusted in the garden or orchard, where she would amuse herself hy the hour together, in comparing different leaves and flowers, or watching the movements of a " dear little spider," a "beautiful black beetle," or a " busy bee." Being taught to take an interest in observing the habits of living creatures, and to find pleasure in seeing them happy, according to their several natures, she was a stranger both to those imaginations which weaken the minds and sour the tempers of many unhappy children who" learn, from their foolish nurses, to be frightened at a harmless frog or spider and to the cruelty by which the hearts of many are hardened, and a capricious and tyrannical disposition is fostered, by their being permitted, in early childhood, to treat insects and other inferior animals as if they were without feeling, or even to make a sport of tormenting them. Every living thing she saw, was to Helen a source of pure and lively pleasure, and served to excite and exercise feelings of benevolence and tenderness. Thus was she pre- pared to exercise similar feelings towards beings of her own race. The tender helplessness of a newborn brother or sister awakened, in the mind of little Helen, attentive consideration and lively sympathy. She became a tender and thoughtful little nurse; and, when too young to hold an infant in her arms, might be safely trusted to watch it in its cradle, or on the carpet, and to give timely notice, if it required any attention beside EARLY FRIENDSHIPS. 9 her own. She was taught to consider it an honour and pleasure to be usefully employed ; and in this valuable branch of education she had steadily advanced, from picking up fruit for a pudding, or sticks for a fire which she was taught to do as soon as she could run alone till, at the time which introduces her to the acquaintance of the young reader, she became a really valuable assist- ant to her mother, in the discharge of her house- hold and nursing cares, and in the humble, yet needful operations of the work-table. All this time, intellectual and literary advantages had not been overlooked. The little girl had been taught to think, and to derive information both from con- versation and from books. Each of her parents delighted to encourage and answer her inquiries, and to assist her progress ; and, on the whole, Helen had made more real advances in useful knowledge, and was in a more improveable state, than many a girl of her age who has, from her in- fancy, been drilled into scientific learning, and deprived of the innocent pleasures of childhood, for the sake of being exhibited as a prodigy of precocious attainment. But it was now considered desirable that Helen should be placed under the care of a judicious governess, and enjoy the instruction of masters, and the stimulus of companionship, in her studies. From the high testimonials of several friends, whose daughters were educated under Mrs. Gilbert, the establishment of that lady was fixed upon for 10 EARLY FRIENDSHIPS. Helen ; and, shortly after the conversation already related, she was placed there. All school-girls can recollect something of the strange, confused feelings, they experienced on heing first cast among twenty or thirty entire strangers ; the haughty shyness which marks the expression of some countenances the keen, scru- tinizing glance of others the kind sympathy of some and the childish inquisitiveness of all, on the introduction of a new scholar. But in no case are the feelings alluded to so vividly realized, or so distinctly remembered, as in that of the girl whose early years have been most entirely spent at home, and confined to the society of her own family. Helen had been much pleased with the prospect of going to school. She felt, indeed, some dread at the idea of being separated from those she dearly loved, and she could scarcely imagine any substitute for the conversation of her affectionate parents, and the caresses and gambols of her little brothers and sisters, in whose advances, growth, and intelligence, she had always taken a lively interest. But youth is generally disposed to take the bright side of a prospect ; and, by anticipating the pleasures and advantages of school, Helen had reconciled herself to the necessary privations and separation. She took an heroic leave of her mother and the little ones at home, and of her father, who conducted her to school. It was not till she heard the iron gate of Mrs. Gilbert's fore EARLY FRIENDSHIPS. 1 1 court close after him, and the rolling of the wheels that bore him homewards, that she felt the full sense of loneliness and separation. In spite of every effort to suppress her feelings, the tears rolled down her cheek, and she stood in the pas- sage with a look of vacancy and distress. Mrs. Gilbert kindly took her by the hand, and, conducting her to the school-room, introduced her to her young companions. Poor Helen's tears now flowed faster than ever. She felt that, to be lonely in a crowd, was incomparably worse than being lonely in solitude ; and she wished that she might have been permitted to retire to her cham- ber, or even to have remained in the dark passage, rather than be compelled to encounter so many inquiring glances. The entrance of a stranger suspended the bustle of the play-room. Some of the least reserved of the girls crowded round the new comer, and wished her to join their party. A momentary contention ensued, as to the right of companionship, whether vested in the senior pupil in the establishment, or her who gave the first invitation, or her whose chamber Helen was to share. Leaving the disputants to settle the matter among themselves, Helen suffered herself to be led away to the group of the successful claimant ; and the sports, which her entrance had interrupted, were quickly resumed. The party with which she was first associated, consisted of Marianne Armstrong a tall staid- looking girl, rather reserved in her manners, and who might pass for fourteen or fifteen years of 12 EARLY FRIENDSHIPS. age ; Louisa Ellis, apparently two or three years younger a plump, lively, good-humoured-look- ing little body, with tongue enough for herself and her next door neighbour; Catharine Millman, a pale-faced girl, in deep mourning who, though on that occasion, the president of the party, it being her birth-day, had not been the most for- ward in pressing the stranger to join it ; Charlotte Harrington perhaps the most attractive of the group, in person and manners; and Maria and Fanny Lloyd, two little Welch girls, the eldest not more than eight years old, and with nothing par- ticular to distinguish them from twenty other chil- dren of the same age : they also wore mourning, but not apparently of so recent a date, or for so near a relative as that of Catharine Millman. The young party were seated round a small table, engaged on various kinds of fancy-work. A little repast had been furnished for their entertainmerrt, in honour of Catharine's birth-day. Of the young ladies who surrounded the table, Charlotte was the most forward in introducing Helen to the circle, and in securing for her the most advantageous seat. Louisa was most loud in her expressions of wel- come in assuring Helen, that her present uncom- fortable feelings would soon wear off, and she would find herself quite happy, and in crowding on her attention questions of one kind and another, much more rapidly than she could possibly answer them. Marianne received the new comer with rather a stiff bend of the head, and a hand not very eagerly stretched out, nor very warm in its pressure. EARLY FRIENDSHIPS. 13 Catharine quietly moved, to give place to the stranger; spoke a very few and gentle words of welcome, and brushed away the tear that involun- tarily started to her own eye, on perceiving one on the cheek of Helen. The little Welch girls looked with timid shyness, equal to that which Helen herself felt on this memorable occasion an occa- sion which occurs but once in a school-girl's life ; for, even should it be her misfortune a misfortune to which some young people are exposed, by the caprice of their parents during the course of her education, to be removed from one school to ano- ther, she can never feel again what she felt on first leaving home, and joining a numerous society of entire strangers. " Do you like bead- work, Miss Somers ?" inquired Charlotte, handing, for inspection, the bracelet which she had nearly completed. " I have never done any," replied Helen ; il but I think it very beautiful." " You can easily learn ; and you shall be wel- come to my patterns ; I have a work-bag, a purse, a watch-pocket, and a bracelet." " I suppose you do worsted- work, Miss Somers ?" asked Louisa; " it is all the fashion this year. I did a pair of slippers, a reticule, and a pair of bell- pulls, all out of school-hours ; I have just begun another pair of slippers. How do you like them ? but you can hardly see the pattern yet : you will be able to judge of them in a few days. They are for my uncle Marriott, my mother's eldest brother, 14 EARLY FRIENDSHIPS. who is just returned from the West Indies. Do any of your uncles go abroad, Miss Somers?" " No," replied Helen, " I believe not." " Well, that is a comfort ; for, as mamma says, nobody likes to part with their relations ; though it is very pleasant when they come home, and bring one a lot of choice presents. When uncle Sandham came home from the East Indies, he brought mamma a cashmere shawl, and a gold chain, and me a beautiful pearl necklace, and a glass case of stuffed birds such beauties ! every colour you can think of. I wish I could go up stairs I would show you my necklace ; but that is one of the rules of the school we must not go up stairs, except when we go to bed. You will find it very different, being at school, from what it is at home, where you can do what you please." While this voluble young lady was pouring forth this gratuitous, and not very interesting information, Marianne had steadily plied her knit- ting scarcely for a moment raising her eyes from the silk purse on which she was engaged. An acute observer, however, might have discerned a slight curl of the lip, expressive, perhaps, of something like contempt for her loquacious school- fellow. The two little Welch girls were waiting, with some degree of impatience, for a break in her speech, to edge in the elder, a request to Catharine for directions in the making of a doll's frock, on which she was employed under her superintendence and the younger, having already EARLY FRIENDSHIPS. 15 surmounted her timidity, fbr an opportunity to call the attention of the new scholar to the doll itself. Helen Somers had been used to take an interest in the pursuits of children younger than herself; and, though Charlotte reproved the little girl, as a tiresome little thing, and told her not to tease Miss Somers ahout her baby-plays, she good-na- turedly took notice of the waxen baby praised its eyes, hands, complexion, and, still more, the neat workmanship of the few articles of clothing already complete. This parenthesis was scarcely tolerable to Louisa, who was eager to pursue her motley string of interrogations and intelligence. " You are just in time, Miss Somers, to keep Miss Millman's birth -day. She is twelve years old to-day. Should you not take her for more? Perhaps you have hardly had time to think about it ; but my mamma says she looks full as old as I do, and I am nearly thirteen. We were at the Isle of Wight together last summer ; I do not mean in the same party, but we lodged within a few doors of each other." Catharine seemed to shrink from the attention thus directed to her. The talkative girl pro- ceeded : " Pray, Miss Somers, what may be your age ? I should think about the same as Miss Millman's; but I may be mistaken.'* For once she paused. " Eleven, next birth-day," replied Helen ; " the 10th of May." 16 EAKLY FRIENDSHIPS. "Dear!" exclaimed Charlotte Harrington, "how very remarkable ! the same day as mine. We were born on the very same day ! Well, we must be friends ! I knew we should, from the moment you entered the school-room. I hope we shall sleep in the same chamber, and learn the same things ; but I dare say you are much more forward than I am. How far are you in French and music ?" " I know but very little of either. My mamma has taught me a little of the first principles ; but she says, that what she has done is only preparing me to learn, with advantage, under a master." " You have a mamma, then?" asked Catharine, with an eager and mournful expression of counte- nance, which too plainly indicated her own sad loss, and would have awakened the sympathy of Helen, even without the indelicate whisper of the officious Louisa " She has lost her mother, about two months ago." Helen's eyes filled with sadness, as she thought of the loss her young companion had sustained, and trembled at the very possibility of such a cala- mity befalling herself. She silently pressed the hand of Catharine, and conveyed to her wounded heart the consolatory feeling, that much real sympathy may exist where but few or no words are uttered. This sentiment would have been farther corro- borated, had the young ladies cast an eye towards the taciturn Miss Armstrong. Whether or not they noticed it, certain it is that tears dropped upon her netting-silk, and that she stooped, seemingly for the purpose of picking up her scissors, but, in EARLY FRIENDSHIPS. 17 reality, to wipe her eyes without observation. The little Welch girls also mingled their tears, while they affectionately clung upon Catharine, and entreated her to dry up hers. " I hope and trust you will sleep in my room, my dear," said Miss Harrington to Helen ; " I have so very much to say to you. Did Mrs. Gilbert tell you with whom you were to sleep ?" " No ; she merely desired the servant to carry my boxes into the lobby. I believe I am to sleep alone." "Are you indeed? Oh, how wretched! Pray, whose whim is that ? How very ridiculous ! " exclaimed Charlotte. Helen felt a rising blush excited partly, per- haps, by false shame, and partly by honest indig- nation. Few people can bear to find themselves the subjects of ridicule; and Helen had never been accustomed to hear any wish or opinion of her parents spoken of as a whim. She knew that that they had expressed a desire that she should be provided with a separate bed, and she would gladly have escaped answering a question that seemed to reflect on them. The indefatigable tongue of Louisa for once interposed seasonably. " Then, if Miss Somers is to have a single bed, she will sleep in the blue room that's a certainty ; for there is not another room in the house fitted up with small beds. It is called the blue room, Miss Somers, because all the beds have blue checked curtains. I dare say you never in your life saw such odd beds as they have here. I am c2 18 EARLY FRIENDSHIPS. sure I never did till I came to school that is three years since and I have got used to such things now. The hangings only come half way over the top, and they are made of stuff almost like a washerwoman's apron, only the checks are larger; and the curtains only draw a little way, just at the top. How shall you like that, do you think?" Helen replied, that she should not care what hangings there were to her bed that she had been used to sleep without any, as her mamma considered it more conducive to health. " How very odd," returned Louisa; " why, my mamma would be frightened to death, and think I should be laid up with cold, if she knew I slept without curtains drawn all round my bed. For my part, I do not care about it only it looks mean. And how shall you like to sleep in a room with a set of little ones and a teacher?" Helen again replied, that she should not mind sleeping in the room with little ones, having been used to do so at home. Charlotte and Louisa, however, with one voice declared, that she would find it perfectly miserable to be separated from all the great girls, and mewed up with a teacher, and not dare to speak a word. The bell for prayers put an end to the conver- sation. The young ladies quickly cleared up their various articles of work and play, and moved off to their respective chambers. At the top of the stairs, Charlotte embraced Helen with such warmth, and expressed such regret that they should be EARLY FRIENDSHIPS. 19 separated, as seemed to require more than the acquaintance of an hour or two to justify. Helen herself wondered at it; but her disposition was naturally affectionate, and she felt grateful for the notice that had been taken of her, as a stranger. There was, therefore, nothing like coldness in her manner of reciprocating the farewell ; and she really felt regret at the separation from one so kind. But Helen had been taught at home to accommodate herself to circumstances; and she quickly followed one of the half-boarders, who was directed to conduct her to her room, and assist her in opening her box. The room ap- pointed for Helen was adjoining that of Mrs. Gilbert, and known by the name of Mrs. Gilbert's dressing-room, although never used for that pur- pose. In this room were two beds a small one, which Helen was to occupy and a larger, which was reserved for two sisters, who were daily ex- pected. For the present it was her own, for the wholesome purposes of secret reflection and quiet repose. According to her. long accustomed habit, Helen read a short portion in her little Bible the gift of her beloved father on the first leaf of which was written his wish and prayer, that she might be a diligent and obedient student of the sacred page, and by it be made wise unto salvation. A glance at this expression of parental solicitude for her best interests, tended to give a mellow and solemn tone to the feelings with which she perused the sacred injunctions, and to rivet those injunc- 20 EARLY FRIENDSHIPS. tions on her heart. She fervently implored a blessing on the beloved family from which she was now separated, and prayed also for strength and grace, that she might never be suffered to grieve the hearts of her parents, by departing from the good way in which they had so carefully trained her. Before she sunk to rest in her neat little bed of which, by the way, she entirely forgot to notice the half-tester, so disparagingly described by Louisa her mind revolved on the conversation of the evening, and the characters and manners of the young people to whom she had been intro- duced. Their names she could, as yet, but im- perfectly recollect; but that first introduction fixed in her mind a descriptive designation for each. The silent girl the talking girl the sorrowful girl and the kind girl; and yet, in attaching the latter epithet to Charlotte, she felt a moment's hesitation, when she recollected that she did not speak quite so kindly to the little Welch girls as she did to her; and she had, more than once, heard her mother remark, that a more cor- rect estimate of temper and disposition might be formed from the tone and manner of speaking to those with whom we are most familiar, than from our behaviour to comparative strangers. The young ladies at Mrs. Gilbert's school assembled every morning, at seven o'clock, to pursue their studies for an hour before break- fast ; but, with the kind consideration that Helen might have been over-fatigued with her journey, EARLY FRIENDSHIPS, 21 Mrs. Gilbert had given orders that, on the next morning after her arrival, she should not be dis- turbed so early as the rest. This was a sad disap- pointment to Charlotte, who had calculated on ob- taining permission to call Miss Somers and assist her in dressing, and, with that view, had herself risen half an hour earlier than usual; for, if the truth must be told, that young lady not unfre- quently had to forfeit, for want of punctuality in making her appearance in the school-room, and habitually reckoned it " very well indeed " if she was removing her last curl-paper when the bell be- gan to ring, as that just allowed her time to reach the door while its last sound was vibrating. Before Mrs. Gilbert left her own chamber, she quietly peeped into that of Helen, and was not more surprised than pleased to find her new pupil already dressed, her bed stripped, her clothes neatly put away, and herself seated by the open window, reading. Helen was unconscious of having merited the smile of approbation she received from her governess, for she had done no more than was perfectly habitual to her, having been accustomed to it from her infancy. As yet, she knew not the extent of her obligations to a good mother, who had not only taught her the precepts, but trained her to the habits of obedience, in- dustry, and order, and thus rendered them de- lightfully easy to practise through future life. When Mrs. Gilbert had examined a little into the state of Helen's attainments and capabilities, she placed her in the same class with Charlotte 22 EARLY FRIENDSHIPS. and Catharine. Miss Armstrong was in a higher class; and the two little Lloyds, who had but recently left their native mountains, and come to England for education, in a lower. This was quite natural ; but Helen was somewhat surprised to observe that they were joined by Louisa Ellis, who, from her advanced age, good natural abili- ties, and long advantages at school, might have been expected to take higher ground. Possibly it may have occurred to the reader, that a young lady who talks so much, and to so little purpose, can- not have much time and attention to bestow on her own improvement, and will, probably, occupy a dis- advantageous position, compared with that of others, who, possessing equal capabilities and means of improvement, assiduously lend their attention to making the best of those advantages. When the morning exercise was over, Charlotte lost no time in joining Helen, and congratulating her on their being placecTin the same class. " You know it will be so delightful, my dear girl; for we shall always sit together at meals; and, out of school-hours, we can be as entirely with each other, as if we formed the whole class ; for, there are only three day-scholars, who leave as soon as school is over, and Catharine Mill man and she, poor thing, is always moping about her mother's death, and is no society for anybody, except those two Welch babies ; so, you and I, my dear Helen, shall be all in all to each other." Helen, at present, felt no desire for that isolated kind of friendship. She thought much of home, EARLY FRIENDSHIPS. 23 and the dear society she had left behind ; and she thought much of school, its duties and advan- tages ; and hoped she should he able to acquit her- self to the satisfaction of her governess ; and that her improvement would equal the expectation of her parents. She hoped, also, so to conduct her- self among her young companions, as to deserve the good- will of all ; but she was not anxious for a particular friend. At the breakfast- table she was accosted with gentle cordiality by Catharine, and answered her courtesy with equal frankness. It should be observed, that Mrs. Gilbert allowed her young ladies to converse together at meals. It is, or was formerly, a common rule for school meals to be eaten in silence; but Mrs. Gilbert consi- dered it more conducive to health, cheerfulness, and the formation of propriety of deportment, to encourage rational and polite intercourse at the breakfast and dinner-table ; and she rarely found it necessary to still the voice of clamour or bois- terous mirth. It is a higher attainment to regulate indulgence, than to enforce abstinence. Mrs. Gilbert, however, successfully attempted and maintained the union of liberty and order. It may be supposed, that among her pupils no one was more ready to avail herself of the privi- lege, to its fullest extent, than Louisa Ellis. Her place at the long school-table was just oppo- site that of Helen. She soon assailed her with a string of questions as usual, without waiting for a reply. " Well, Miss Somers, how do you like school 24 EARLY FRIENDSHIPS. breakfast? thick slices and salted butter, with milk and water for tea ! Ah ! well ! you will get used to it by degrees, as I did. I could scarcely eat anything when first I came here ; but 1 don't mind it now; and you will not, after a bit. I dare say you breakfasted at home yesterday?" " We took a little before we left home," replied Helen; " but, as it was then very early, we were quite ready for another breakfast when the coach stopped at Chesterfield." " You passed through Chesterfield?" said Ca- tharine, in a tone of inquiry and surprise. "Did you happen to notice no, it is hardly likely you should the name of Hollingsby, surveyor and architect, just opposite the inn where the coaches stop?" " Yes," replied Helen, " I remember seeing the name on a brass plate. I should not have no- ticed it, but a gentleman came out of the house, and proceeded with us as far as Derby. My father had pointed out to me the spire of the church, which, from whatever point you view it, appears to lean towards you. This gentleman explained to my father the cause of the illusion, and they conversed together the whole of the way." " Was he a tall, middle-aged man, dressed in black ?" inquired Catharine. " Yes ; and a young gentleman, who came across to speak to him, and who called him papa, was dressed in black also." " I have no doubt it was my uncle Hollingsby. EARLY FRIENDSHIPS. 25 I wish he had known you were coming here, that he might have sent me word ahout aunt, and all the family. Was he in good spirits?" " He spoke very mildly ; hut I think he seemed to be in trouhle. He and papa spoke a great deal ahout affliction, and the consolations of religion." " What a pity," said Louisa, " Miss Somers did not tell him she was coming to Mrs. Gilbert's school: I am sure I should have told him all about it." " No doubt you would," observed Charlotte, " if it had only been for the pleasure of talking." " Well, I know I do talk too much," responded Louisa ; " but you need not have told me of it, just when there was a new scholar to hear." A pause ensued. The mournful feelings of Catharine were awakened. The tears rolled down her cheek, and she passed the remainder of the meal-time in silence. Louisa made an effort to restrain her unruly member; and Charlotte, who was particularly fond of a secret, but cared little about general conversation, reserved all her im- portant communications for the private ear of Helen. Helen could not help thinking that the candour of Louisa, in acknowledging her foolish propensity, was more amiable than Charlotte's sarcastic exposure of it. Helen was the next speaker. On looking along the table, she missed Marianne Armstrong, and inquired after her, as one of the party to which she had been introduced the night before. 44 Oh! you mean Miss Armstrong," replied D 26 EARLY FRIENDSHIPS. Charlotte ; " you must not expect to see her at meals in the school-room : she is a parlour boarder. Her condescension last evening was in honour of her friend Miss Millman's birth-day; but (in an undertone) I will tell you all about it, when we are alone." When breakfast was over, Helen hastened to look over the lessons in which she understood her class was to be engaged. Charlotte soon hunted her out, and insisted on her walking with her in the garden, until school-time. " And now, my dear," said she, " in the first place, let me warn you against being so terribly good. It is the common fault of new scholars ; but they soon get cured of it. The sooner the better ; for every one dislikes them while it lasts. You may get through in class just as well, if you only look it over the last five minutes before you go up, as if you were to pore over it all your play-time. I scarcely ever bestow more than five minutes on any lesson, and I generally get through as well as the rest." " Perhaps you learn more quickly than I do, and perhaps you have a better memory. Even if I could learn anything in five minutes, I am sure I could not remember it ; and then, you know, I should in reality be no forwarder than if I had not learnt it." " Just so much the better. If it is not remem- bered, it is forgotten that's all ; and I can tell you, that is the way in which most school-girls learn their lessons." EARLY FRIENDSHIPS. 27 " But surely we cannot improve, if we forget things as fast as we learn them," said Helen, in a tone of mingled statement and inquiry. " Oh yes," returned her companion ; " some how or other we do improve. We learn through one book, and it is registered, * Miss M. has learned (or read) such a book ;' then we learn another, and that is registered ; and so we go on till our education is finished ; and we know as much as other people, though we do not exactly remem- ber anything in particular. I will tell you what a cousin of mine did. It was at a school near London, where they have a grand examination twice a year, before all the world and his wife. They had their parts given them a month before the time. But Harriet, who, though a clever girl, is no bookworm, never looked at hers till within the last day or two when it was impossible for her to learn the whole. So she just took one page and left the other, trusting that she might hap- pen to be questioned upon the pages she had learnt, and not updn those she had neglected, or that she might happen to guess at a right an- swer : and, sure enough, so it was : she gave one or two clever guesses, and got off with flying colours." " But then, as my mamma would have said, she gained no real improvement. Mamma always told me that was one of the great dangers of school being satisfied with getting through as well as the rest, without being careful thoroughly to understand and remember. She advised me. 28 EARLY FRIENDSHIPS. once a week to go over what I had learnt, and try myself whether I had really gained knowledge, and to ask for an explanation of anything I did not understand." " And who are you to ask, I should like to know ? Surely you don't intend to be continually running to Mrs. Gilbert, like a little bleating lamb to its mother baa, baa what's the meaning of this? All this may do very well for teaching babies at home ; but you will find the difference, now you are come to school. You must be con- tent with learning your lessons, and take your chance about understanding them," Helen wondered, but made no reply, Char- lotte proceeded to open her budget. "And now, my dear, I promised to tell you about all the young ladies. So, to begin at the top of the tree, there is Miss Armstrong, who was of Catharine Millman's party last night. Well, she is one of the pattern girls makes a point of never doing wrong is very much offended if any- body says a word against Mrs. Gilbert, or does anything that she has forbidden ; though, in gene- ral, they take pretty good care to avoid this, in Miss Armstrong's presence. As she is a parlour boarder, of course everything she sees and hears is carried to Mrs. Gilbert. Miss Armstrong, though she dresses so plain, is a girl of fortune. Her mother died when she was an infant, and her father is abroad; so she has lived with some maiden aunts, and imbibed all their stiff an- tiquated ways. She would not have a thing out EARLY FRIENDSHIPS. 29 of place in her bed-room or her work-box ; and, on a rainy day, she holds up her frock as if she thought it a sin to get a splash. She writes to her aunts once a fortnight; and, though it is no trouble to her to write a letter, she won't let one of the girls see what she writes, or give a poor creature a sentence, if one is ever so bad put to it." " How do you mean, give a sentence?" inquired Helen. " What use would a sentence from her letter be to any other person ?" " Oh, it would do just as well for anybody else. Almost all the other girls, if they happen to find a good sentence, let any one have it, to put in their letter. It is a great bore to write home don't you think so?" " Oh no ! It will be my greatest happiness, now I am away from my dear parents, to write to them as often as I can." "Ah! you may think so, now you have just left home; but, before the end of the half-year, you will find the difference. I am sure I never write home, except when I am obliged, and then I am puzzled out of my wits to think of some- thing to say. Well, I was telling you about Marianne Armstrong. She has a great deal more pocket-money than any other girl in the school ; but she scarcely spends anything, like the rest, in eatables or trinkets. She buys a great many books ; and, when she wants to make a present of her own work, she spares no expense in getting the best materials : but that does not take half her money ; so I suppose she misers the rest, or per- D 2 30 EARLY 1'RIENDSHIPS. haps gives it to the poor : many people do so, just to be talked about. I don't, for my part, see any good in it it only makes poor people idle, and, you know, they ought to work and keep them- selves." " Poor people who are sick, or very old, or poor little children, cannot work, and then they need help ; and, I am sure, it is a great pleasure to be able to help them : I shall love Miss Arm- strong if she spends her money in such good ways." "It is of no use for you to love her she will never take a bit of notice of you. She keeps her- self entirely to Sophia Jenning, Mrs. Gilbert's niece, who is about her own age, and Catharine Millman, who has been an acquaintance before they came to school. Well, so much for Miss Armstrong. Then comes Miss Millman * Sweet bird, that shuns the noise of folly; Most musical, most melancholy.' I don't know any harm of her ; she is not a mis- chief-making girl; but she never cares to mix with the others. She is always moping about her mother, or getting alone to read her father's letters, or studying with her friend, Miss Armstrong. One of the day-scholars told me that she knew for a certainty that Mr. Millman is not so rich as he was formerly, and that Catharine will have to go out as a teacher or governess. Perhaps that is what she frets about, more than her mother's death ; and that makes her take so much pains EARLY FRIENDSHIPS. 31 with her music and drawing. No doubt Miss Armstrong could tell us all about it, if she chose ; but she is so very stiff and reserved, there is no such thing as getting a word out of her. I have tried several times to pump the little Lloyds, but they are stupid little things: they either do not know, or will not tell anything about the matter. I have set that rattletrap, Louisa Ellis, to find out the truth of the matter ; but it seems as if all her brains had run into her tongue ; and, though she will chatter by the hour together about her own pedigree, and twenty other stupid things, that nobody wants to hear, she has not sense enough to find out, though she visits the family, whether or not Catharine Millman is qualifying herself for a teacher." "And why do you want to know?" inquired Helen. " Oh, I have no particular reason only one likes to find out things, especially when people are close about their own affairs; besides, you know, if Catharine is training for a teacher, that accounts for her being so very diligent: she knows that she must get her living by it. Ah! well, it will all come out some time or other. Well, now, I have got to tell you about the day- scholars in our class. Sophia Reynolds is one of the over-good sort, and her parents are very pre- cise, particular people. She would not, for the life of her, do any little secret errand for the boarders; so you must be on your guard with her: but Maria Burr, and Ann Williams, are 32 EARLY FRIENDSHIPS. good-natured girls, and will do anything for a schoolfellow. Indeed, Maria is rather a poor girl her parents keep a shop so she is glad to do our errands, for the sake of what she gets for herself. Ann Williams has a very nice home, and garden, and is very much indulged; so she is a very good one to make friends with ; for she often invites her friends to spend the half holiday with her. But there is the warning hell, so we must be in school in ten minutes. After school we will walk again, and then you shall tell me all about .your home, and I will tell you about mine." The young ladies parted Helen to perfect her- self in the lessons, which she could not help feeling had been slighted, in consequence of her long conversation with Charlotte and Charlotte to watch the arrival of her town emissaries, who were generally charged by her with some secret commission; for Charlotte loved secrets and, though she paid twopence or threepence in a shil- ling dearer for her little articles of haberdashery, stationery, or eatables, beside running the risk of detection, she preferred obtaining them secretly, through the forbidden intervention of a day-scholar, to procuring them openly, when regular opportu- nities were afforded to the young ladies of supply- ing themselves, according to their respective tastes and resources. The several engagements of the day allowed Charlotte no opportunity of making her promised communication, and calling upon Helen for that which she had bespoken from her. This suspen- EARLY FRIENDSHIPS. .33 sion of intercourse afforded to Helen an interval for reflection. She had wondered at many things that Charlotte had said, and, indeed, at the gene- ral strain of her conversation ; but it was not until she thought the matter over in quiet solitude, that it occurred to her that Charlotte had displayed the very features of character against which she had been cautioned by her mother; and then she per- ceived at once, that Charlotte would be neither a safe nor a desirable friend. " She professed much regard for me, and flattered me, when she knew nothing about me; she endeavoured to pry into other people's affairs, and to make me inquisitive about them ; she spoke ill of others, and she acts contrary to the orders of her governess, and the rules of the school. I am sure mamma would not like me to make her my friend." With these re- flections, Helen came to the prudent resolution to hold herself back from intimate friendship. Charlotte, however, was not easily repulsed or discouraged. Again and again she assailed He- len with flatter^', extolling her diligence and her attainments, and entreating her assistance in accomplishing tasks which her own want of appli- cation and perseverance rendered difficult. It was scarcely to be expected that a girl of eleven years of age, should remain altogether unmoved by these combined attacks on her vanity and her good nature; and, without any direct preference for Charlotte's society, so it was that, for the first few weeks of her being at school, she conversed more with Charlotte than with any other of her young com- .34 EARLY FRIENDSHIPS. pan.ions, and was brought more under her in- fluence. In more than one particular, that influ- ence was of an unfavourable tendency. At home, Helen had been accustomed to look upon instruc- tion as a privilege, and to regard with respect, gratitude, and confidence, those who imparted it to her ; and she came to school fully disposed to exercise the same proper and salutary sentiments towards her new instructors. Charlotte, on the contrary, regarded her lessons as something to be got through, and her instructors as persons whom it was her interest to circumvent. She seldom mentioned their names without some disparaging epithet ; and spoke with great self-complacency of her own cleverness in evading their requirements, or infringing on their prohibitions. The influence of such a companion imperceptibly led Helen to be more satisfied with her present attainments, less diligent and assiduous in her application, and less solicitous about the approbation of her teachers, than was compatible with her real improvement. The same influence tended also to produce coldness and alienation between Helen and others who would have been much more congenial and profit- able companions. By assuming a sort of patron- age over Helen, and teaching her to regard others as proud, cold, and inaccessible, she gradually brought her to consider their friendship as unat- tainable and undesirable. Thus she continued to engross Helen to herself; and, almost uncon- sciously, Helen found herself considered as the pro- tegee of one for whom she had no decided prefer- EARLY FRIENDSHIPS. 35 ence, and indeed whose sentiments and conduct she could not approve. Charlotte often extolled the sweets of friendship, and especially lauded her own disinterested friendship for Helen ; and Helen could not contradict her assertions, though, in her heart, she often sighed for the delightful inter- course of home, and sometimes indulged a hope that something more nearly resembling it might he enjoyed in the society of the expected sisters, who were to share her chamber: but nearly a month had elapsed, and, as they made not their appearance, conjecture and speculation began to be afloat in the school, as to the probability or non-probability of their coming at all, and the cause or causes of the alteration. The curiosity of Charlotte, in particu- lar, was strongly excited ; and she made various attempts, both upon Marianne the taciturn, and Louisa the loquacious, to obtain the secret, but without success. The tenth of May drew near ; Charlotte and Helen each received a parcel from home, in anticipation of their birth-day. It was agreed that they should form one party, and Helen proposed that it should consist of the same indivi- duals as that of Catharine Millman, to which she was introduced on the day she came first to school. Charlotte raised some objections against admitting " that melancholy Catharine," and " that chattering Louisa," and " those childish lit- tle Lloyds;" but, considering it the only chance of inducing Miss Armstrong (with whom she knew she was no favourite) to join her party, and hoping that she might succeed in obtaining from her the 3^ EARLY FRIENDSHIPS. information she so earnestly desired, she consented to invite the whole party who had met with Miss Millman. It was a lovely day. The young party were to assemble under a fine spreading horse- chestnut tree, covered with rich clusters of blos- soms. Charlotte was desirous that it should be farther decorated with wreaths of flowers. The wish was no sooner expressed, than the good-na- tured Louisa, assisted by the little Welch girls, hastened to gratify it. They were successful in begging flowers from their governess and their young companions, and quickly returned, loaded with a profusion of beauties, with which to deco- rate the arbour of Helen and Charlotte. But, alas ! the priority given to Helen awakened the jealousy of her compeer. Charlotte was well pleased with any kindness shown to her friend, as long as she could at all flatter herself that it was in consequence of her patronage, or in any way for her sake ; but when the little girls returned, eagerly inquiring for Helen, and selecting the best of the flowers, as having been gathered out of their own gardens for Helen, or sent to her by their com- panions, the thought obtruded itself on Charlotte's mind, that Helen was beloved for her own sake, and was even preferred to her, who had been several years in the school ; and, instead of being grati- fied at her share in the kindness shown, she gave way to the unworthy feelings of jealousy and irri- tation. Utterly unconscious of what was going on, Helen had withdrawn to enjoy the several let- ters from the dear ones at home, that had accmn- EARLY FRIENDSHIPS. 37 panied her birth-day parcel. The expressions of affectionate remembrance and congratulation, and of parental counsel and solicitude, conveyed in these epistles, had left a tender and pleasing im- pression on Helen's mind, and she returned to her young companions with a countenance expres- sive of quiet happiness. Before she had time to notice the angry, sullen looks of Charlotte, her at- tention was attracted to the beautiful garlands with which the bower was adorned. With unaffected pleasure and gratitude she acknowledged this mark of kindness, and admired, as much as even the little contributors themselves could desire, each honeysuckle, and hyacinth, and narcissus, that was pointed out to her as the produce of such or such a garden. Simplicity is a great friend to enjoyment. Helen passed the evening very happily. She was disposed to be pleased with all around her, and desirous of imparting as well as receiving pleasure. She found Marianne less reserved, and Catharine less melancholy, and Louisa less annoying than she had been led to expect; and, though Charlotte spoke less than usual, and especially was less profuse in her professions of friendship for her- self, she was disposed to ascribe it rather to delicacy and propriety, than to real coolness. Even a taunting expression or two, that escaped in the course of the evening, were passed over as mere jests; and, not a single suspicion en- tered the mind of Helen, that they were the out- breakings of jealousy and ill-humour. Those who 38 EARLY FRIENDSHIPS. had known Charlotte longer, perhaps understood better the true state of the case. Nothing, how- ever, was said, and the party broke up in good spi- rits and good feelings towards each other, with the one exception of Charlotte, whose spring of dis- satisfaction was within. Charlotte had not so entirely yielded herself to the influence of ill-humour, as to forget the object of her curiosity. In the course of the evening she made several attempts to find out whether or not the new boarders were still expected, or whe- ther Helen was to remain sole occupant of the dressing-room; but she could gain no satisfaction. None of her hints were taken any notice of by Miss Armstrong the only person of the party likely to be in possession of any information on the subject At length she ventured directly to propose the question, and received the direct an- swer, " I really do not know." Thus was poor Charlotte, on her birth-day the day which she had anticipated with exultation, as a season of tri- umph, disappointed in both her leading propensi- ties the love of admiration, and the love of mystery. She had intended to exhibit Helen as her friend and protegee, and to gather incense for her own vanity, from the attention that Helen might receive. But, to her utter surprise and mortifica- tion, she found that a simple-hearted and unassum- ing girl was noticed for her own sake, while she was comparatively neglected. She had expected much applause for her splendid entertainment ; she observed, also, with no small degree of vexation, EARLY FRIENDSHIPS. 39 that Helen was evidently attracted towards those from whom she had taken much pains to alienate her. Marianne talked with Helen about books, and Catharine about the age, and stature, and at- tainments of her little brothers and sisters; and there was a freedom of intercourse, an apparent one- ness of feeling between them, which had never subsisted between Charlotte and her elder school- fellows, nor even between her and Helen, not- withstanding her loud professions of friendship. Helen had many points of attraction and union. She was intelligent and affectionate, and could identify herself with the pursuits and feelings of others. Charlotte had but one centre, and thaf was herself. Whatever did not tend to attract notice and admiration to herself, was insipid or repulsive. But, with the exception of Louisa, whom she des- pised, not one of the party inquired which part of the feast was contributed by Charlotte, and which by Helen. The young people partook of the refreshments, but did not make them the theme of their conversation : indeed, the consumption of the articles indicated a preference for Helen's home-made cake and dried apples, to the costly and elaborate sweetmeats provided by Charlotte. Then, Charlotte had confidently hoped to elicit from Miss Armstrong some information on sundry questions on which her eager curiosity was ex- cited ; such as, the cause of dismissal of the house- maid the family concerns and early history of the new French teacher the delay of the expected pupils -whether they would come at all and 40 EARLY FRIENDSHIPS. whether or not they would be parlour boarders. These if Charlotte could but have obtained a true, full, and particular account on each of these topics would have furnished her with a stock of secrets enough to magnify her own importance, and to secure for her all the assistance in her exercises, that she might choose to purchase for the Remainder of the half year : but, alas ! not one of the mys- teries were solved, and the evening closed in dis- appointment and mortification to Charlotte. The young people had scarcely separated for the night, when a somewhat unusual bustle in the house announced the arrival of new inmates to the esta- blishment, and gave a fresh impetus to the restless curiosity of Charlotte. Forgetting her recent dis- pleasure with Helen, and regardless of the rules of the house, she no sooner caught the rumour that the Misses Gray were come (it must be true, for her informant had seen the direction on the lug- gage) than she ran across to Helen's chamber, to communicate the intelligence to her, and to entreat her to keep awake until the young ladies came to bed, that she might be able to quiz them a little, and report particulars in. the morning. Helen had drawn back the window curtain, and, by the light of the moon, was reading a portion of Scripture, when Charlotte stealthily entered the room and surprised her. The interruption was far from agreeable, and Helen felt conscious that it was also wrong. She ventured freely to remonstrate with Charlotte on the impropriety of transgressing a known rule of the house, by leaving her own EARLY FRIENDSHIPS. 41 chamber, and the indelicacy of prying into the affairs of others. There needed no more to set the angry passions of Charlotte into a blaze. She bitterly reproached Helen with unkindness, and declared, that from that moment she would never acknowledge her as her friend. Helen felt unconscious of having merited this renunciation, and sat silently musing on the whole of Charlotte's conduct to her, which appeared alike unaccountable ; why she should so eagerly seek, and so hastily renounce, her friendship, both without any adequate reason. She was led again to recollect the remarks of her mother, on the subject of early friendships, and to observe that they were verified in her own experience. " Thus," thought she, " I have gained and lost a friend already. I am sure this friendship has not done me good; I hope it has not done me much harm ; and that, if ever I should form another friendship, that it may be more pleasant and improving to me than this has been. Well, it is still my happi- ness that my parents are my real friends, and will not turn me off in a huff." As Helen ended her soliloquy, and rose to prepare for bed, another tap at the door was heard ; and, for a moment, she ima- gined that it was Charlotte, come to revoke her hasty sentence ; but her surmise was quickly cor- rected by the appearance of Mrs. Gilbert, followed by the two little Welch girls. " I come, my love," said Mrs. Gilbert, " to bring you two little companions for your cham- ber, t hope you will find them agreeable, and E 2 42 EARLY FRIENDSHIPS. not troublesome. The two sisters, who were to have shared your apartment, have just arrived; but, as one of them is not in good healthj I have made arrangements for placing them in a room with one of the teachers, and these little girls will occupy the large bed in your room instead. I shall be obliged by any little assistance that you may kindly render them, in dressing and undressing ; and I hope that your example will be advantageous, in training them to habits of neatness and order. I have just been informed .that it is your birth-day ; accept my best wishes for your health and happi- ness, and especially that, as you advance in years, you may increasingly fulfil the wishes and reward the exertions of your excellent parents. Good night, my dear girl ; and ' Remember now thy Creator in the days of thy youth.' " An affectionate kiss sealed this expression of pious good-will. " Oh! Miss Somers," said Fanny Lloyd, " who would ever have thought that we should come to sleep in your room ? and we are to stay, if you will let us." " But," interrupted Maria, " Cousin Catharine told us to be very quiet, and not chatter, to disturb Miss Somers. We have looked over our lessons to-night ; but, Miss Somers, will you be so kind, another evening, to let us look over them in your room, if we are very quiet? When we try to learn them in the school-room, the great girls make fun of us, and put us out, and so we cannot get up in the class." EARLY FRIENDSHIPS. 43 Helen kindly assented. The little girls seemed delighted with their preferment, and fearful of in any way trespassing or making themselves dis- agreeable. They quietlv assisted each other in undressing, carefully folued up their clothes, and, offering each a grateful kiss to Helen, were soon fast asleep "beside each other. Helen looked at them, and thought of her own younger brothers ard sisters, who, she hoped, were as quietly repos- ing at home ; and she resolved to be kind to these children, as she should wish others to be kind to those connected with herself. These benevolent purposes and projects entirely obliterated from the mind of Helen all uneasy traces of Charlotte's unkindness. She laid down to rest, almost for- getting that she had lost, or been threatened with the loss, of a friend. Helen rose, as usual, much earlier than her school duties positively required. She had en- joyed the early freshness of the morning had raised her youthful thoughts to HIM whose be- neficence she had learned to trace in the beauty, the fragrance, and the harmony which regaled her waking faculties. She had read in His holy Book nobler truths than Nature in all her glories could reveal. She had held communion with the Father of spirits, through his beloved Son. She had im- plored, for his sake, the pardon of all her sins, and the guidance of his Holy Spirit in the way of duty; and, thus prepared, she was ready to go forth to the engagements of the day. Happy youth, who thus consecrates to God the morning 44 EARLY FRIENDSHIPS. of her days, and the morning of every day ! How rich the encouragement and the blessedness of such! " I love them that love me, and those that seek me early shall find me." (Prov. viii. 17.) The little girls were still sleeping. The transfer of beds, the preceding evening, had kept them up beyond their usual time, and Helen forbore to disturb them. She had just begun to colour an outline map, when some one tapped at the door. Helen's thoughts again reverted to Charlotte. Sorry to have given even unconscious offence, and eager to make up the difference for Helen had been early taught, that it was both sinful and miserable to be at variance even in trifling matters she staid not for a second thought, but said " Come in, Charlotte," and sprung to open the door. Her surprise was not altogether unmingled with disappointment, when, instead of Charlotte, Catharine Millman appeared. " Forgive me for intruding," said Catharine ; Mrs. Gilbert gave me permission to come in and call my cousins, as I have been used to do so. I was fearful they might over-sleep themselves, arid be behind with their lessons. I am really sorry to have disappointed you. May I come in?" " Oh yes surely," replied Helen, with her usual frankness. " I was not exactly disappointed only I thought, for a moment, that it might be Charlotte; but I am sure I am glad to see you. Do come in and be friendly." The sound of Catharine's gentle voice roused the little sleepers. The manner in which they saluted EARLY FRIENDSHIPS. 45 each other, plainly indicated that a real affection subsisted between them ; it expressed an under- stood compact of benevolent solicitude and pro- tection on the one part, and respectful tenderness and compliance on the other. In the tone and manners of Catharine there was nothing dictatorial or assuming ; and yet, her cousins were evidently accustomed to regard her suggestions with defer- ence, and to receive her kindness with gratitude and love. While Catharine assisted one of the little girls in dressing, Helen, almost unconsciously for it was a service to which she had been long ac- customed took to the other. " Thank you kindly," said Catharine ; " but it is a shame you should be disturbed from your drawing. I hope you will not find my cousins occasion you annoyance; and, if they do not, I shall heartily rejoice in their removal hither: it will be much more for their comfort and advantage, than remaining in the great room. But, as they are considered as my charge, and Mrs. Gilbert has given me leave to attend to them, you must tell me freely whether my coming in to do so will be an additional annoyance and interruption to your studies ; for I would make any contrivance rather than incommode you." " Indeed, Catharine, you will not incommode me. I have hitherto enjoyed my room alone; but I shall be really glad to have a little company : I can do all my work full half an hour before school time, and that half hour it will be quite 46 EARLY FRIENDSHIPS. pleasant to spend together, while your cousins are dressing. Mamma always let me help her to wash and dress the younger children ; so it seems quite natural to me to have something of that sort to do." " I am glad to hear you say so. When we heard, last night, what was proposed, Miss Har- rington said, you were so fond of seclusion, she was sure it would be a great annoyance to you to have companions especially two such little ones. I suppose she thought so, from your not being frightened and distressed at sleeping alone, .as most of the girls would have been." " I now see, what I did not think about when I was at home how kind it was of my dear mamma to teach me to be happy whether I was alone or in company." " Ah, you are a happy girl, to have a dear mamma living! I had one" The little Lloyds each threw an arm round Catharine's neck, and kissed away the tears that this mournful recollection impelled. Helen grasped her hand in silent sympathy. The pressure and the kisses were returned, and the emotion sup- pressed. Catharine was not a girl of sentimental display, but of deep and quiet feeling. "Poor Louisa! she has never been taught as youlhave) andjsheA istoniserablfe if left alone for five minutes/espexjialjy in the dark. When removed into a single-bedded/ room, on account of having the measles, she threw herself into fits; and the doctor told Mrs. Gilbert, that her health was far EARLY FRIENDSHIPS. 47 more injured by the ceaseless agitation of her spirits, than by the violence of the disease. She considers it quite an act of heroism in you to endure sleeping alone, and looks upon you with astonishment." " Poor girl ! I am sure I pity her for caring about it. My little brother, who is not a year old, is always laid down awake, and left without a candle. If Louisa's mother had used her so when she was little, it would not have been a trouble to her now." " No ; but I suppose, when little, she was left to servants, as her mother is very much out in company. You and I have reason to be thankful for the early care of good parents." " Yes, indeed we have. I have been much more sensible of this, during the short time I have been at school, than ever I was before. If in any- thing I do right, I find it is by acting on these plans, and following their examples; and, if I do wrong, it is from not recollecting what I was taught at home." " These poor girls, who came in last night, I suppose can recollect but little of their home. They were born in the East Indies, and are sent over to England for education. It is two years since they left their parents." * f Poor girls ! and who has taken care of them all that time?" " I suppose they have guardians in England; but they have been under the care of a black nurse, who came over with them, and brought them here 48 EARLY FRIENDSHIPS. last night. Miss Armstrong saw her ; she seemed very fond of the young ladies, and was almost heart-broken at parting with them, and sadly afraid of their not heing made warm and comfort- ahle here. She calls it cold weather now, and begged several additional blankets, and that the curtains might be closely drawn round the bed in which the young ladies were to sleep. I believe that was the reason of the arrangement which has thrown my cousins with you. The bed in Miss Green's room has hangings of thick moreen; and, Miss Green being herself a native of a warmer climate, they are more likely to agree about keep- ing the windows shut, and the curtains drawn, than you, who have been used to enjoy the fresh air." " It is very kind of Mrs. Gilbert to have consi- dered all this. I really don't know anything more uncomfortable than to be shut up in a close room on a fine spring morning the air is so refreshing and delightful ; and yet, poor girls, I hope I should have endeavoured to make them comfortable, if they had been placed here ; though I am much better pleased in having the Misses Lloyd." " I think Mrs. Gilbert must have had their comfort in view, as well as yours. They were sadly teased among so many, in the great room." " Yes, indeed we were, cousin ; and you will see if we do not get on better with our lessons : you do not know how it hindered us. " Indeed, cousin, we tried not to be vexed, as you told us ; but we could not always help it. EARLY FRIENDSHIPS. 49 Directly we took up a book, they would set up calling us nanny-goats, and leek-loves, and then it put us in a pet, and made the lessons go out of our heads." "Well, Maria, you must forget all that now; it is not worth mentioning any more ; and I hope you will not miss a word in your lessons, now you have no such annoyance." At breakfast-time Charlotte Harrington scarcely deigned a look, much less addressed a word, to Helen. She was worshipping the rising sun. Her entire attention was directed to the new comers, and every expedient was tried to attract their attention to her. She offered them information, to which they were indifferent introductions to com- panions, whom they haughtily disdained speci- mens of work, which they were too indolent to admire or imitate and delicacies, which they were too richly supplied to render acceptable. The Misses Gray were evidently full of self-conse- quence. They seemed to feel themselves degraded by being placed on a level, in accommodations and employments, with Europeans, and to regard as contemptible everything that did not come up to their oriental ideas of magnificence and splendour. But though, in laying siege to their friendship, Charlotte found herself repulsed at several of the ordinary points of attack, she persevered, until she found one at which they were not invulnerable. She flattered their vanity, by affecting to admire, and encouraging them to display, their expensive but tawdry and ill-assorted wardrobe, and to listen t 50 EARLY FRIENDSHIPS. with interest to their accounts of the sumptuous style in which they had been accustomed to live, the number of servants employed in ministering to their luxury and caprice, the total disregard of expense in the arrangements made for their voyage and education, and the splendid prospects awaiting their return. By assiduously plying the humours of the new comers on these points, before the day was out, Charlotte had succeeded in ingratiating her- self with them, and, in the course of a week or two, had rendered them so much assistance in dis- posing of their superabundant pocket-money, in secret purchases, by the intervention of one of the day-scholars, that she found herself admitted as an intimate and acknowledged friend. Helen, and all professions of friendship for her, were, of course, forgotten. The new arrangement, however, brought Helen into contact with other young people, of tastes and habits more congenial with her own. The cha- racter of Charlotte's friendships had uniformly been ardent, exclusive, and transient. While the fit lasted, no girl could profess more loudly, nor, per- haps, feel more vehemently, than Charlotte did. She was, probably, unconscious of the great pro- portion of selfishness that mingled in her attach- ments, though it was sufficiently obvious to every- body else ; and it may be supposed she persuaded herself that she had a decided preference and warm attachment for the favoured individual, ade- quate to her professions. Then, in the super- abundant strength of her individual attachments EARLY FRIENDSHIPS. 51 she seemed to lose sight of the duty and the pos- sibility of cherishing and evincing universal good- will. With the object of her choice she professed, and she claimed to reciprocate, all the kindly feel- ings that each had to bestow. It was at least an implied part of the compact of friendship, with Charlotte, that every other person was to be treated with neglect, if not with marked dislike. It was, however, against her statutes of friendship, to interchange friendly offices with any other than herself. It was exacted as lawful and loyal com- merce, to collect, and communicate, and magnify any information, especially disparaging informa- tion, concerning themselves or their families. In- deed, to stimulate and gratify an idle, often a ma- lignant curiosity, seemed to be the chief object for which her friendships were formed. Hence, they were not very likely to be lasting. This kind of commerce invariably leads to disagreement. One party or the other betrays the secrets which have been ardently coveted, and perhaps illicitly at- tained ; for a secret, like fine dress, affords little gratification to the possessor, unless it be displayed. Unfounded, exaggerated, or injurious reports, are spread ; the resentment of the party concerned is kindled, and the friends are induced to criminate each other, in order to screen themselves. Seve- ral of Charlotte's friendships were thus broken up, and converted into bitter hostility. In other cases, as in that of the generous and simple-hearted Helen, Charlotte's friendship was unconsciously 52 EARLY FRIENDSHIPS. forfeited to a surmise that her friend had treason- ably presumed to love and be beloved by others besides herself. In no case could it be expected to survive the attractions of a new comer, and the tempting opportunity of acquiring new secrets. Within forty-eight hours of the arrival of a new scholar, some quarrel was sure to arise between Charlotte and her old friend, opportunely to set her at liberty to do homage to the rising sun. Helen had but little cause to regret that the two latter circumstances had combined to terminate an intimacy, unsought, indeed, on her part, and which had, by no means, been productive either of real pleasure or improvement. What had been ob- served of her habits and character, and what had been gleaned or surmised about her family, pro- bably furnished Charlotte with matter for a jest or a mystery, with her new companions^ From this, no very serious mischief was likely to arise ; for Helen, having had nothing particular either to con- ceal or to communicate, but few topics of ridicule could have presented themselves, even to the fer- tile imagination of Charlotte. Simplicity of cha- racter, and orderliness of habits, are but lame and unprolific themes for ill-natured merriment. Peo- ple soon become tired of laughing at them. Helen now found herself at liberty to chat with, or even to walk arm in arm down the garden, with any one of the young ladies, without incurring the jealous charge of a violation of friendship. Of this privilege, however, she but sparingly availed EARLY FRIENDSHIPS. 53 herself; for circumstances and preference con- curred in throwing her principally into the society of a few. From a native kindness of disposition, strength- ened by the early cultivation of good habits, and the inculcation of good principles at home, Helen devoted a considerable portion of attention tp, her little chamber associates. She assisted them in preparing their lessons, or rather, in understanding them, and patiently and gently rectified their mis- takes, without laughing at them for their Welch accent, or for the ludicrous blunders into which they sometimes fell, in consequence of their im- perfect knowledge of the English language. These children, though quick and irritable in their tem- pers, and easily thrown off their guard by the ridicule and persecution they had endured from many of the elder girls no one more than Char- lotte were of peculiarly affectionate and grateful dispositions. They soon forgot their little resent- ments of past unkindness, but cherished the most lively sense of kindness and attachment to those from whom they received it. Catharine and Helen, their joint benefactors, jointly received their heart- warm tribute of gratitude and love : and, pitiable they who are strangers to the pleasure arising from the society of those they have benefited ! There is no one so young or so lowly, as to be excluded from sharing this privilege ; and the young person 'who renders herself amiable by acts and habits of unassuming kindness, can scarcely fail of being surrounded by agreeable company. The new F2 54 EARLY FRIENDSHIPS. arrangements brought Helen also into frequent contact with Catharine. As they became better acquainted with each other's character, they found increasing pleasure in each other's society. They found mutual improvement in pursuing their several studies together, and participated in their fancy-works and other pursuits of recreation, and plans of benevolence. By incidental remarks, without either of the young ladies incurring the charge of impertinent tattle about family affairs, or of egotistical vanity in relating her own history, each felt an interest in the family of the other. Catharine had learnt that Helen was blest with wise and good parents, who endeavoured to train her up in the nurture and admonition of the Lord that she had several younger brothers and sisters, by most of whom she was affectionately remembered; and, of the very youngest, she re- ceived, with interest, the intelligence of the cutting of a tooth, running alone, acquiring accessions to the vocabulary, and other infantine feats, which awaken lively pleasure in the members of an affectionate family. The communications of Ca- tharine to Helen were of a more plaintive kind. Her beloved mother had died in consumption, a few months before. Her father's health and spirits were shattered by this affecting bereavement; and Catharine sometimes feared that he would never recover. Her elder brother was placed with his uncle, the architect, at Chesterfield. She had three sisters, considerably younger than herself, and a little brother, not much more than a year EARLY FRIENDSHIPS. 55 old. Two cousins, nearly her own age, and the companions of her childhood, had been carried off within a few days of each other, by malignant fever, from which their mother, who took the in- fection from them, was slowly recovering. The mother of the little Lloyds (who had been dead four or five years) was the cousin and intimate friend of Mrs. Millman, who, at her death, took charge of the little girls. Their father was never mentioned. Catharine knew that, had her mo- ther's life been spared, she would have watched the education of these children with solicitude all but equal to that she felt for her own ; and, with- out making any vows and promises, it was evident that Catharine was quietly endeavouring, in some degree, to fulfil her mother's wishes on their behalf. Catharine's early acquaintance with scenes of affliction and bereavement, had naturally cast somewhat of a pensive shade over a naturally cheerful temper. Helen's family had been mer- cifully spared the afflictions with which that of her companion had been so familiar. Her early years had realized an unusually large portion of health and enjoyment. Having been trained to obedience and self-control, she was a stranger to imaginary troubles. Hence, her countenance usually wore a joyous expression. She possessed, nevertheless, a thoughtful mind, and a feeling heart. Though habitually cheerful, she never gave way to that rude, boisterous mirth, that cannot restrain itself, even in the sacred presence of sorrow, but obtrudes 56 EARLY FRIENDSHIPS. its incongruous songs and jests on the ear of one who is " heavy of heart." (Prov. xxv. 18.) Helen, on the contrary, promptly manifested that delicate sympathy which can " rejoice with them that re- joice, and weep with them that weep." (Rom. xii. 15.) She took a share in the sorrows of her com- panion ; and, when Catharine received a letter, without anything like impertinent inquisitiveness, she inquired, with feeling interest, after the health of the several objects of her solicitude, and sooth- ingly encouraged every rising hope of restoration to health. Catharine shared the chamber of Miss Arm- strong. This privilege for such she justly deemed it was the result of some previous ac- quaintance between the families of the young ladies. Miss Armstrong had been several years under the care of Mrs. Gilbert. She had now at- tained the age when young ladies generally leave school, or, as it is most mistakingly expressed, " finish their education;" but, at her own desire, her residence with her excellent governess was protracted until her father's return to England. Although far in advance of her companions, she wished to pursue her studies, and continue to enjoy the instructions of masters ; which latter advantage would not have been accessible had she left school and returned to her aunts, their residence being fixed in a sequestered village. Miss Jen- nings, a niece of Mrs. Gilbert, had long been the chosen friend of Miss Armstrong. They had pursued their studies together, and shared their EARLY FRIENDSHIPS. 57 recreations. Miss Jennings had several times spent the vacation with her friend, at the house of her aunts. But the education of Miss Jennings had been conducted with a view to her becoming an assistant in the management of Mrs. Gilbert's establishment. In order to this, it was considered desirable that she should remove for a time, until the race with whom she had been familiar, as fellow-pupils, should have passed away. It was by the recommendation of the aunts of Miss Arm- strong, that Mr. Millman, when the death of his amiable wife cut short their purpose of giving to their daughter a home education, was induced to place her under the care of Mrs. Gilbert. Catha- rine was thus especially thrown upon the notice of Marianne; and, as her entering the school was about the time of Miss Jennings leaving it, she succeeded her in sharing Marianne's chamber. There was only one ground on which Catharine regretted this arrangement : it was, that it occa- sioned her separation from the little Lloyds, and their being thrown among several of the elder girls, whose illiberal taunts, and general example, she feared were exercising an injurious influence, both on their temper and habits. This difficulty had been obviated by their removal into Helen's room a change as agreeable to themselves, as it was satisfactory to their young protectress. The same circumstance that brought Catharine and Helen into contact, brought the latter considerably nearer to Miss Armstrong. In the manners of that young lady, there was a considerable portion of reserve 58 EARLY FRIENDSHIPS. and shyness, often ascribed to pride. Pride is such a universal sin, that it would argue an ex- treme ignorance of human nature to claim for any individual an entire freedom from it. Marianne Armstrong was too much accustomed to reflection and self-examination, to advance any such pre- tence; but, in the sense in which pride was charged upon her by many of Mrs. Gilbert's young ladies, the imputation was altogether un- just. The grounds on which it was alleged were simply these : she was a young lady of fortune ; she was a young lady accustomed to think and read ; and she was not a young lady who inquired into, or communicated other people's affairs : therefore, she must be proud. It might easily be proved, that wherein, in these respects, Miss Armstrong acted differently from many of her young companions, she was actuated by a sense of responsibility, more deep and influential than usually belongs to persons of her age ; that she knew the value of time, and had found ways of employing it, far more innocent, profitable, and agreeable, than in idle tattle ; and that, while she avoided impertinent curiosity in the concerns of other people, she was never backward in improving opportunities of doing them kindness, though at considerable personal sacrifice; and that, all the while, she entertained very sober and humble views of herself. Those who knew her best were least inclined to charge her with pride or mo- roseness. Nor was this young lady by any means unsusceptible of the emotions of warm and EARLY FRIENDSHIPS. 59 generous friendship. Indeed, she might be re- garded as a fair exemplification of the remark of Mrs. Hannah More, that " shy characters, who, from natural timidity, are reserved in general society, open themselves with peculiar warmth and frankness to a few select friends, or to an indivi- dual of whom they think kindly. A distant man- ner is not, as is suspected, the result of a cold heart or a dull head; nor is gaiety necessarily connected with feeling. High animal spirits, though they often evaporate in mere talk, yet, by their warmth and quickness of motion, obtain the credit of strong sensibility ; a sensibility, however, of which the heart is not always the fountain : while, in the timid, that silence which is construed into pride, indifference, or want of capacity, is often the effect of keen feelings. Friendship is the genial climate in which such hearts disclose themselves ; they flourish in the shade, and kind- ness alone makes them expand. A keen discerner will often detect, in such characters, qualities which are not always connected with ' The rattling tongue Of saucy and audacious eloquence.'" With Miss Jennings, Marianne had maintained ^n affectionate and unreserved friendship; not that kind of friendship imagined and aspired after, and falsely dignified with the name, by Charlotte Harrington, and a hundred other school girls, but a real union of tastes, feelings, pursuits, and in- terests a steady compact and aim to promote 60 EARLY FRIENDSHIPS. mutual improvement each aiming to render her- self and her friend more worthy of mutual esteem, and thus to secure their attachment against the ephemeral date of those friendships which are taken up without reason, carried on without ad- vantage, and terminated without regret* Being now separated, Marianne and her friend maintained intercourse hy letter ; not the crossed and doubly crossed sheets of " sentimental frippery" and drearcH not the fulsome flattery and empty professions not the protestation of utter solitari- ness and desolation, in the temporary absence of the addressed friend, which form the epistolary corre- spondence of many young ladies ; but a rational and sober communication of facts and sentiments, and kindly remembrances, which might be mutually interesting, improving, and gratifying. So far from a profession that no other individual should ever be permitted to share her friendship, Miss Armstrong freely informed her early friend, and the information was received with unfeigned pleasure, that she found in Catharine Millman a very intel- ligent and amiable companion, for whom she enter- tained a growing regard ; and the period of Miss Jennings's return was anticipated with pleasure, when, without enfeebling or interrupting the har- mony, their former duet should be exchanged for a trio. Towards the close of the half year, Helen Somers also was kindly mentioned. Helen, as well as Catharine, was not unfrequently invited, by permission of the head of the establishment, to share the privilege which Marianne, as parlour EARLY FRIENDSHIPS. 01 boarder enjoyed, of sitting in her own room out of school hours. The books and conversation of this accomplished young lady, formed a valuable source of improvement and pleasure to her young friends, and requited them for their kindness to others much younger and more unimproved than themselves. There was yet another individual who partici- pated in the good offices of her more diligent and more advanced school-fellows. Louisa Ellis* by her incessant talking of nonsense, had sadly re- tarded her improvement, and had rendered herself the butt of ridicule to the whole school, except one or two, who were good-natured enough to regard her with pity, and to wish that they could contribute to her improvement. Louisa, with all her faults, was sensible of kindness, and accessible to reproof. She even received, without resent- ment, many rebukes that were not dictated by kindness, or expressed in a manner likely to con- ciliate or improve. This amiable disposition af- forded ground of hope that Louisa was not incor- rigible : there was, however, this discouraging fea- ture in her character by no means uncommon : though possessing a full consciousness of her fault, and sufficient candour freely to acknowledge it, she made no decided and persevering effort to get cured of it. Miss Millman, having received per- mission of her governess to assist her Welch cou- sins in dressing, and in preparing their appointed tasks, was in the habit of visiting their cham- ber every morning, for that purpose, and called G 62 EARLY FRIENDSHIPS. them, generally half an hour earlier than most of the girls were accustomed to rise. Louisa was continually in trouble, through her giddiness and inattention, and, without any deficiency of natural abilities, almost uniformly maintained her posi- tion at the bottom of her class. She had, in general, pretty well reconciled herself to this, by an indolent wish that she could rise, like other girls coupled with a vague, senseless conclusion, " but it was not her lot she never was lucky it was of no use for her to try." But, when she found herself outstripped by two little girls much younger than herself, and the subjects of disadvan- tages to which she was a stranger, she was stimu- lated to inquire into the cause. True, they were diligent and attentive ; yet she could not quite con- sent to trace all their success to these humble merits. No; it must be in consequence of the assistance they received from their cousin ; and, if Louisa had but a kind friend to render her the same assistance, she could, no doubt, get on as well as they. She begged the favour of Catharine to call her at the same time with the Misses Lloyd, and to permit her, with them, to prepare her les- sons under her superintendence. The favour was granted, and, for a few days, so well improved, that Louisa had gone through a whole week with- out disgrace, and had even astonished her class, by taking two removes from her old station at the bottom. But success soon threw her off her guard. Instead of diligently applying herself to her les- sons, and attending to the hints given by Ca- EARLY FRIENDSHIPS. 63 tharine, for facilitating tneir attainment, she fell into her old folly of senseless chattering, and thus de- prived herself of advantages she was beginning to acquire, and proved, also, a great interruption to her companions. Catharine finding their attention dissipated, and her endeavours for their improve- ment frustrated, by Louisa's frivolity, had come to the conclusion that she must, though reluctantly, exclude that giddy girl from a benefit which she had so justly forfeited. The removal of the Lloyds into Helen's room, opportunely removed them from an influence that was beginning to be injurious, and, at the same time, spared Catharine the pain of inflicting the deserved and threaten ed punishment. Poor Louisa was no sooner deprived of her pri- vilege, than she became doubly sensible of its value, and bitterly bewailed its loss. She could, however, have no hope of regaining it. The ad- mission of one pupil to the chamber of another, was, in the case of Catharine and her cousins, a solitary departure from an established rule of the house, and it was not at all likely to be extended, in a case where no particular previous connexion existed. Besides, Louisa could not but feel con- scious that she had forfeited all claim to her kind- ness, and had no reason to expect that Catharine would be inclined to devise means for continuing to render the assistance that had been so much abused. Louisa was again in trouble and disgrace, for her negligence and inattention, and again she was "looking round for some friend to help her out of 04 EARLY FRIENDSHIPS. her troubles. Charlotte Harrington had formerly helped her, but she was now too much engrossed with her new friends, to remember her old ones. Besides, the half year was far advanced, and Louisa's pocket resources began to run low ; and she knew that Charlotte's favours could only be purchased by expensive presents, in which she could not at all compete with the present favourites. It was writing-day ; the desks were being placed. Helen Somers tripped along, carrying her cipher- ing-book and slate, with that air of satisfaction on her countenance and in her step, that spe.-iks the successful accomplishment of an enterprise. Having deposited her performance, ready for examination, as she turned from the desk, she spied Louisa sitting behind the door of the book closet, disconsolately brooding over her troubles. She turned over her slate, bearing a yet un- attempted sum, and her falling tears threatened to obliterate the puzzling figures. Helen kindly stopped, to inquire into the cause of her .distress, and to offer any assistance that might be in her power. Louisa's countenance in an instant brightened up. " Oh yes," she replied, " indeed you can help me ; how very kind of you to offer ! you could do this horrid sum in five minutes I know you could. You cannot think how much I am obliged to you. I am sure, if I have anything you like, I would give it you with all my heart, for helping me. I never was in such trouble before; but I have had no luck at all since Maria and Fanny EA.RLY FRIENDSHIPS. 65 left our room : you know Catharine used to help me a little, as well as them. Was it not very kind of her? but since that, I have had no friend to help me at all: but do, dear Miss Somers, take pity on me. I know they tried to set you against me at first, because I talked so much; but I always thought, sometime or other, you would be my friend." Helen was obliged to cut short the speech, by reminding Louisa that only a few minutes re- mained for accomplishing her sum, before the writing-master would arrive ; "and," added she, "if you find any difficulty in your sum, I shall be very willing to put you in the way of doing it; though I should not think it right to do it for you." "Oh, will you not, indeed?" asked the half- desponding Louisa; "Charlotte Harrington has ^ften done a sum for me, and it was never found out. Do, pray, help me this once I will do any- thing for you I will give you a pearl from my necklace." " Thank you, Louisa; I do not wish to take anything from you. As far as it is right to help you, I will do it for the pleasure of helping ; but I must not do that which would injure you, and displease Mrs. Gilbert. You know you cannot improve by what I do for you ; and, if Charlotte had not done your sums, perhaps by this time you would have found no difficulty in doing them yourself." 66 EARLY FRIENDSHIPS. " I am sure it is impossible I should ever do this sum." " Oh no not at all, if you do but take off your mind from everything else, and give it your whole attention for a few minutes. Come, now, repeat your rule." With some difficulty He] en succeeded in fixing her companion to observe the rule, and its appli- cation to the sum in question; and, though she was once or twice breaking off into some story about Charlotte, or Catharine, or one of-her uncles, by dint of perseverance in steadily, yet gently driving her back to the point, the impracticable sum was correctly worked, within the given time, by Louisa herself, who then felt much more really obliged to Helen, than if she had yielded to her importunity, and worked it for her. In this way Helen often afforded Louisa some assistance in the prosecution of her school duties, and, what was still more, in the conquest of her foolish pro- pensity the love of unnecessary talking. Helen engaged daily to devote a few minutes to bringing Louisa on with her lessons and sums, on the ex- press condition that she should not speak on any other subject, nor say one unnecessary word, even about what she was learning Helen being herself engaged in performing her own duties. This little daily exercise did something to convince Louisa, to her utter astonishment, that much might be done without talking indeed, that silence was absolutely favourable to attention, diligence, and EARLY FRIENDSHIPS. 67 memory; a fact to which she was, apparently, a total stranger. Thus matters went on to the Midsummer vaca- tion. Helen had gained the general good- will of the school, but had made no particular profession of friendship for any one. She took an affection- ate leave of her governess and fellow pupils, but there were no appearances of heart-breaking no complaints of the tedious separation ; nor, on the other hand, were there any of those senseless ac- clamations of joy at being freed, for a time, from business, and restrictions of school, by which some young people insult their kind instructors, and prove how little they are inclined to value, and profit by, the privileges of instruction. Helen was soberly glad to think of seeing home again, and all its dear inmates, and of presenting the little tokens of affectionate regard, which her in- dustry and ingenuity had prepared for each ; but she did not exult in the thought of leaving school, as if it were a prison or a purgatory : she felt a real interest in her pursuits, and attachment and gratitude to her governess and other instructors ; and she looked forward with pleasure to returning, after an interval of recreation, with new zest to her studies and engagements. Louisa could scarcely enter into these sentiments and feelings ; though she confessed that, after the first few days of unbounded liberty at home, and taking her pleasure, and seeing the sights of London, she be- came heartily tired of it. To do her justice, among her pleasantest anticipations of the holidays were 68 EARLY FRIENDSHIPS. those of presents to be received, and purchases to l)e made, for the gratification of those who had been kind to her at school. Catharine, who also resided in London, was to spend part of the vaca- tion with Miss Armstrong, at the house of her aunts; where Miss Jennings, the early friend of Miss Armstrong, was to meet them. Catharine deeply felt the kindness of this arrangement, and sometimes looked forward to it with pleasure ; but her young heart had been repeatedly wounded by affliction, and a pensive hue was cast over even the pleasures of hope. " Perhaps," thought she, " instead of being per- mitted to share the enjoyments of my friends, I may be called to some new scene of sorrow and bereavement. Ah! I wish I could feel as my dear mamma felt, when she used to say, so sweetly, * Father, thy will be done ! ' If I may but be fitted to dwell where she is, and there meet all who have been dear to me, how willingly should I bow to all that I may have to meet with here below." A smile shone through her tears, as the thought of holy solace diffused itself over her mind ; and she added, " yet, after all, how many mercies have I still spared to me ! my dear father, and bro- thers, and sisters, and many dear, kind friends; and, perhaps, there is much enjoyment yet in store for me. I ought not to be gloomy and ungrateful no. Let me say, as my dear mamma said, when she had hardly breath to speak, * Bless the Lord, O my soul, and forget not all his benefits/ " EARLY FRIENDSHIPS. 69 It was one of Catharine's trials, that the little Lloyds were to be left behind. From an anxious desire to fulfil the wishes of her venerated parent, she cherished for these children an almost maternal tenderness, and felt an extreme reluctance to part with them, lest they should be ill, or lest any one should treat them unkindly, or lest they should be brought under the influence of bad example, or lest some one of the nameless evils should befall them, that an anxious mind always beholds hovering around the objects of its affection. But so it was to be, on account of convenience in domestic arrangements ; and, to avoid the ex- pense of travelling, it was settled that Maria and Fanny were to remain at school during the vaca- tion. The Misses Gray also were to remain. This circumstance by no means added to Catha- rine's satisfaction in the arrangement. Of these young ladies she knew but little ; but that little led her to conclude that they were undesirable companions for her cousins. They were exceed- ingly proud ; and, as it was pretty generally sur- mised in the school, that the Misses Lloyd, as they became old enough to be useful, and as va- cancies occurred, were to become half boarders, this circumstance, if known to the Misses- Gray, would probably lead them to treat the children with haughtiness and scorn ; which would either render them silently uncomfortable, or, what was more to be apprehended, excite their quick resent- ment, and lead to angry disputes. But Catharine knew also, or at least strongly suspected, that, in 70 EARLY FRIENDSHIPS. many respects, these young ladies, having far too much money at command, and having formed their school connexions in the least desirable quarters, were in the habit of purchasing gratifications, and carrying on practices, contrary to the rules of the establishment ; and Catharine's chief anxiety was, lest, in the absence of other companions, they should draw in her cousins to take part in their schemes. On all these accounts Catharine felt deeply, in the prospect of separation from her charge. She did not, however, say much about it, or suffer her feelings to expend themselves in useless lamentations, but endeavoured to fortify her cousins against the evils apprehended. This she judiciously attempted in several ways: First, by furnishing them with plenty of agreeable em- ployment for their leisure time, and so connecting those employments with herself, as to secure a sort of imaginary presence, and thus maintain a really beneficial influence. She advised them to daily devote a regular portion of time to learning over again the lessons of the last half year, and to recall the instructions of herself, or Miss Armstrong, or Miss Somers, in connexion with those lessons. This, she justly thought, would promote their own im- provement, and enable them to proceed with ad- vantage in the business of the next half year, and, at the same time* keep alive the feelings oi attachment, which, when well placed, always exert a beneficial influence on the character. This end was also kept in view, by intrusting them with the charge of gardens, and pet animals belonging EARLY FRIENDSHIPS. 71 to those friends from whom they had received kindness. A few articles of the simplest kinds of fancy-work, and of garments for the infant poor, were left in their hands, as a stimulus to their in- genuity, industry, and benevolence. Catharine engaged them also, each to write her a weekly let- ter, informing her of the progress of their various pursuits. It was probable that opportunities might occur of forwarding them ; if not, Catharine assured the little girls that she should feel great interest in reading them on her return. She en- deavoured also to strengthen their feelings of attachment and respect for their excellent gover- ness. She encouraged them to consider her as their friend, and impressed on them a sense of the duty of consulting her wishes in all their conduct of acting conscientiously and uprightly when not ob- served and of informing her, if they should be exposed to any temptation to act improperly. In their intercourse with the other young ladies, who were to remain in the establishment during the vacation, she begged them to be kind, accom- modating, and forbearing to check their somewhat impetuous tempers to be careful neither to give nor take offence to make special allowance for the different manners of foreigners and to ascribe to that, rather than to ill intention, anything that might appear unkind. At the same time, she charged them against yielding to persuasion or example, that might lead them to do wrong. Ca- tharine, after the example of her mother, had accustomed the little girls daily to commit to me- 72 EARLY FRIENDSHIPS. mory a verse of Scripture. In the prospect of leaving them, she judiciously selected such por- tions as were peculiarly calculated to guard them against temptation, and to strengthen and en- courage them in the way of duty. Thus the young people separated for the recess. Catharine, Louisa, Charlotte, and several others, resident in London, were accompanied thither by one of the teachers ; Miss Armstrong was attended by a servant of her aunts; Mrs. Gilbert, who was visiting relations in the neighbourhood of Derby, conducted Helen thither, where she was met by her father, and proceeded with delight to embrace the expecting dear ones at her happy home. She was not, however, so much engrossed with her own pleasures, as to forget a packet in- trusted to her by Catharine, to be left in passing through Chesterfield. When the coachman drew up to the inn in that town, Helen's quick, and now interested eye, fixed on the brass plate opposite " Hollingsby, Surveyor and Architect," and she requested her father to deliver the packet. Helen's eyes followed him to the door, which was opened by the youth in black, whom she recollected as hav- ing spoken to their former fellow-passenger. In an instant her father returned, bringing from Mrs. Hollingsby a pressing invitation to come in and take some refreshment, while the coach stopped. Helen quickly dismounted, glad of an opportunity of being introduced to a family in whose affections she had learnt to sympathize, and who, she knew, were so very dear to her school- fellow. The inter- EARLY FRIENDSHIPS. 73 view, of course was brief, but left a favourable impression on the minds of all parties. Mrs. Hollingsby, now restored to health, yet bearing on her countenance deep traces of sorrow, received, with warm cordiality, the companion of her be- loved niece, and asked many questions about her, and about the little Lloyds. Recollections and emotions, both of a pleasing and painful kind, were awakened ; but they were held under restraint, and compelled to yield to expressions of polite and kind attention to the comfort of the transient guests. Mr. Somers and Mr. Hollingsby shook hands, and recognized each other as fellow-travellers. Helen was hastily introduced to the young people of the family, including Alfred, the brother of Catharine. It was agreed that she should call on her return to school, and be the bearer of despatches in reply. The horn summoned the coach passengers ; Helen and her father resumed their seats; and a few more rapid miles brought them to the well-known spot, and the embraces of an affectionate family. Helen's vacation was happily passed, in employ- ments and recreations not very dissimilar to those which formerly occupied her. She resumed her post, under her mother's direction, in the charge of the younger children, and found, with delight, that even the youngest, though at first he seemed shy, and regarded her as a stranger, soon recol- lected her voice and manner, and made himself quite at home with her. Needlework, household duties, gardening, country rambles, and friendly H 74 EARLY FRIENDSHIPS. visits, agreeably diversified the time. A vacation thus wisely spent in cultivating the intimacies and the habits of home, and in enabling the parents to judge of the real improvement of their daughter, is a most important and valuable part of the yearly course of education ; while, on the other hand, the recess, squandered in dissipation and display, more than neutralizes the good resulting from the previous months of study. In the free conversa- tions between mother and daughter, which en- livened the occupations of the work-table, while Mrs. Somers was naturally desirous of satisfying herself on all matters of importance connected with the health, comfort, mental cultivation, moral habits, and religious advantages of her child, she wisely forbore a multitude of questions, that might have excited in Helen a foolish disposition to talk for talking's sake, or that might have tended to elicit censorious remarks on persons, or imperti- nent and mischievous interference with affairs, not her own. The habit of foolish talking in children is often fostered, if not originated, by the frivolous questions poured upon them by those who ought to know better; by which they are themselves rendered impertinently inquisitive and loquacious first, for the sake of having something to say, and next, for the sake of showing that they have it. This was peculiarly the case with Louisa Ellis, a girl of good natural abilities and disposi- tion, spoiled by a foolish, empty-headed, tattling mother, and trained to habits which almost ex- EARLY FRIENDSHIPS. 75 eluded her from society, in which she might have maintained a respectable footing. Happily, this was not the case with Helen Somers: while en- couraged to maintain the freest intercourse with her parents, she never had been incited to talk nonsense. She was under no temptation to pry after or to divulge reports concerning the high or the humble birth, connexions, and expectations' of her school-fellows about their costly or their shabby dress their accomplishments or their ignorance. She had talked little about her com- panions, except to mention, with gratitude, the kindness of Miss Armstrong and Miss Millman, in assisting her with books and information in the various pursuits in which they had preceded her. She spoke also, with real sympathy, of the family afflictions of the last-mentioned young lady, and the kindness of her relatives, on whom she had called at Chesterfield; and she sometimes ex- pressed a wish that the little Welch girls had, like her, a happy home to visit; but she made no boast of intimate friendship ; indeed, on her mo- ther alluding to the conversation on friendship, that had taken place before she left home, she said, with much simplicity, that she had no particular friend, except those at home. But though Helen made no professions of spe- cial friendship, she was no recluse or misanthrope. She cherished kindly feelings to all, and special regard for some of her companions ; and it was soon made evident that there were several who 76 EARLY FRIENDSHIPS. claimed her as a friend, and some who cherished real feelings of friendship for her. About a fort- night of the holidays had elapsed, when Helen received the following letter : My dear Miss Somers, London ' My 2nd ' " You will, no doubt, be surprised at receiving, a letter from me ; but my dear Louisa has told me what an amiable young lady you are, and that you are her dearest friend in all the school. I there- fore write to inform you, that we are going to spend a month at Matlock, and shall be glad of your company to spend the time with us. I have sent for Miss Millman, as Louisa tells me she is a great friend of you both ; and we expect to bring her down with us on Friday. We shall have my brother's carriage the one whom you have, no doubt, often heard Louisa mention ; so will come and fetch you the beginning of the week. Give my compliments to your papa and mamma: they need not be afraid to trust you, as I shall take every care of you, the same as my own child ; and you will only go into the best society for Louisa tells me they are very particular; and you and Louisa will be nice company for one another ; and it will be a great treat to you, if you have never seen the place. We shall stay the first day at the Fountain Hotel, but take the best lodgings in Matlock before you come; so expect to find you quite ready. If we should stay a few days after school begins, it will not matter, as you can EARLY FRIENDSHIPS. 77 return with Louisa in the carriage. I remain, your affectionate friend, " ELIZA SOPHIA ELLIS. " P. S. I have received an answer from Miss Millman, who is engaged to visit some friends in Hertfordshire: so is prevented from waiting on me." (Turn over lecif.) " My dearest Miss Somers, " I hope you will be able to persuade your papa and mamma to let you come to Matlock, as I long to see you; and I am sure mamma and uncle will do everything to make you happy. I am very sorry to say Miss Millman cannot come, because she is going to see Miss Armstrong and her aunts. Miss Millman is my next best friend in the world to you ; but nobody has ever been so kind to me as you : and I hope nothing will happen to hinder you from coming. I have got a great deal to say to you, but I must remember how I got out with Miss Millman, and not talk too much, as I know you do not like it. Uncle has made me several handsome presents, and has promised to buy a pair of bracelets for you ; but, as I am not a very good hand at letter writing, I must leave all the rest till I have the pleasure of seeing you on Monday. Your obliged friend, " LOUISA ELLIS." Helen perused this joint epistle with astonish- ment, and immediately put it into her mother's H2 78 EARLY FRIENDSHIPS. hand. " So, Helen," exclaimed Mrs. Somers, " it seems, after all, you have a particular friend, and one who is inclined to heap upon you large fa- vours. Pray who is this young lady? and what have you done for her, to deserve so much grati- tude and regard?" " Indeed, mamma," replied Helen, " I do not know ; Miss Ellis lives in London her father is dead and, in the holidays, she goes with her mamma to some of the fashionable watering- places and she has several uncles, who make her handsome presents ; that is all I know about her : and I am sure I have not done anything particular for Louisa only tried to help her a little in learn- ing her lessons, and persuaded her not to put her- self out by talking. I wonder how she or her mamma should think of my being such a friend to her, or offer to invite me to see them. Indeed, mamma, I never thought of doing such a thing." By this time Helen's father also had read the letters. He smiled as he returned them. " So, Miss Somers ! a very pretty thing indeed ! to think of leaving your old friends at home, and gadding about, to visit your new and very particu- lar friends from school." " Indeed, papa," said Helen, " I do not know what is meant by very particular friends. Miss Ellis is not at all like what mamma told me about a particular friend, before I went to school. She is very good-natured; but I never said anything about choosing her for my friend ; and, indeed, if I had my choice, I would much rather have Miss EARLY FRIENDSHIPS. 79 Millman only she is so much my superior, that I cannot expect it should be so : but I do not care much about having any friend. Everybody is kind to me, and I wish to be kind to everybody. Is not that enough ? I should not like to be as some of the young ladies are, who call one another particular friends. First, they are very intimate, and tell one another everything they can think of and then they quarrel, and do not speak to one another for a week together, and choose another for their friend. There was one young lady at school, who called me her friend, only because we were born on the same day, and on our birth-day she was offended with me, and turned me off. I do not know that I gave her any reason, either to like me, or to quarrel with me." "Well said, philosopher! be sure you never act without reason, and good reason : it may save you much bitter repentance. But, if this Miss What's her name ? is not your particular friend, how should you like to go and spend a month with her?" " I do not think I should like it at all, papa." " What ! not to see Matlock, and its beautiful scenery?" "Yes, papa, I should very much like to see it, with you and mamma, but not with strangers." " But you are to be introduced to the best society, and to occupy the best apartments in the town, and to have a carriage to ride about in. Have you thought of all this?" " Yes, papa. It is very kind of Louisa and 80 EARLY FRIENDSHIPS. her mother to invite me ; and, if it were only for a day, I might be willing to go if you and mamma approved of it to show that I did not slight their kindness; but to go for a whole month is very different. I would much rather stay with you. Indeed, though I am sure I do not know any harm of Mrs. Ellis, I do not think you would like me to stay a month with her. She does not seem to teach Louisa as mamma teaches us; but makes her think a great deal about fine dress, and grand company, and pleasure-taking. They live quite differently from what we do." " Well, Helen, I am sure we do not want to get rid of you ; and I am inclined to think, with you, that neither papa nor mamma would be will- ing to spare you on a visit, however kindly invited, to persons of whom we know so little. It gives me pleasure to find that you can discern the differ- ence, and give the preference, to home and its quiet pleasures. Come, love, give me a kiss, and let us all try to make each other happy. Mrs. Ellis's phrase is somewhat ambiguous ; but, what- ever she may mean by ' the best society,* I fancy the best and safest is to be found at home." Helen fully concurred in the sentiment. It could scarcely, however, be expected that she could entire- ly draw off her mind from the invitation she had received, and the pleasures she might have enjoyed, or .that she should, quite as composedly as usual, set about the regular employments which she regularly pursued with so much satisfaction. It was really a great trial of her magnanimity and EARLY FRIENDSHIPS. 81 constancy. Her kind parents sympathized with her, and endeavoured to communicate to her mind a soothing consciousness of their sympathy. By their advice she at once freed herself of suspense and wavering, hy immediately writing, to decline the invitation. On this occasion, among many others, Helen experienced the advantage of sim- plicity of character. She was not puzzled to find plausible apologies and excuses, hut felt no hesita- tion in stating the simple truth, in a very few lines. She expressed her sincere thanks for the kindness intended her, and respectfully declined the invitation, on the real ground of happy engagements at home, and the unwillingness of the family to be separated for any part of the remaining holidays, especially as it was the wish of her parents that she should return to Holly Grove on the day that school opened. There was only one point on which Helen felt any difficulty ; it was the manner of subscribing herself. The letter was, of course, addressed to Mrs. Ellis. In all the letters that Helen had hitherto written, an established and acknowledged relationship subsisted between herself and her correspondents ; but she could not exactly understand the nature of the connexion between herself and that lady, whom she had never seen. Mrs. Ellis had no scruples on this subject, and had styled herself an affec- tionate friend; but Helen had no more idea of adopting that appellation, to one with whom she was not intimate, than she would of writing her- self daughter, sister, or cousin, when such relation- 82 EARLY FRIENDSHIPS. ship did not really subsist. She paused a moment, and then wrote, " your much obliged ;" for, thought she, *! am much obliged by the kind intention of Mrs. Ellis, though I do not accept it. Before closing the letter, Helen put it into her mother's hand, and asked if it was what she ought to write. Mrs. Somers could scarcely forbear smiling at the simple and laconic style of her daughter's epistle. She felt, however, that it would be a sin against the lovely integrity of her character, to dictate to her forms of modish compliment, and expressions of unfelt attachment. She glanced her eye over the neatly written lines, and was pleased to observe, that the orthography and syn- tax were correct; and, hoping that the lady to whom the letter was addressed, might have the good sense to discern and approve its genuine- ness in its simplicity, she directed it to be sealed and forwarded. The subject was then quietly dis- missed, and the happy family pursued their em- ployments and pleasures, as though the invitation had never been received. Two or three pleasant family excursions were contrived, with a kind view to prevent any feelings of disappointment ; and, more than once, the observation was eli- cited, and many times the feeling was enter- tained by Helen, that she was much happier at home, than she could have been in pleasure-taking among strangers. It was on the return of the family from one of these excursions, that Helen found despatches from others of her school companions. A gentleman EARLY FRIENDSHIPS. 83 on horseback had left for her a small parcel and a letter, and engaged to call the following day, on his return. " Well," said her papa, "Miss Helen Somers is really becoming a lady of importance ! What new acquaintance and correspondents have we here? Another invitation to Matlock? Come, Helen, let us hear the contents of the budget. Oh! ' Favoured by Mr. Hollingsby,' our Chesterfield fel- low traveller. I am sure mamma will be gratified with a call from him, and an opportunity of return- ing the friendly courtesy we received at his house." Helen first opened the letter. Its contents were as follow: " Dear Miss Somers, Holly Grove > July Zrd * " We hope you will not think we make too free in sending you a letter ; but we often talk about you, and all your kindness to us ; and we are glad of an opportunity of letting you know that we remember you. Mrs. Gilbert gave us leave to write, and desires her love to you, and her respects to your papa and mamma. She hopes you are well, and enjoying your holidays ; and so do we : but we shall be very glad to see you back again, and dear cousin Catharine, and Miss Armstrong. Mrs. Gilbert is very kind to us, and we are very happy much better since Mrs. Gilbert returned from Derby. We do not quarrel with the Misses Gray, but try to please them, and we try not to do wrong, and we learn a little every day, as cousin and you advised us : but we do not get on B4 EARLY FRIENDSHIPS. so well, without you. We have been a long walk with cousin Alfred, who has been to London and Hertfordshire, to see his father, and sisters, and brothers, and has called here on his way hack to Chesterfield. He is going to-morrow morning, and is to take this letter. I wish we had some- thing worth sending you. We have gathered some beautiful flowers, but they would not keep ; and we are making some workbags and pincushions for you and other friends, of the silk Miss Arm- strong gave us; but we have not finished one good enough for you. Miss Armstrong has sent us a book called ' Evenings at home,' and cousin Catharine has sent us ' Original Poems.' I hope we shall have learnt some of them before you re- turn. The birds are all well the kitten is very much grown, and the gardens look very well only they want rain. We water them every day ; but Mrs. Gilbert says that is not so good as rain. Cousin Catharine's moss rose has three fine buds. This is all we have to say till we see you. We thank you for all your kindness, and are, your affectionate friends, " MARIA LLOYD, " FRANCES LLOYD." The parcel contained two other letters the one, accompanied by a beautiful little volume on en- tomology the other, by a delicate piece of needle- work, in the form of a small frock-body. The former was simply : EARLY FRIENDSHIPS. 85 My clear Helen, Fait * eld Lod ^ JwM 30M " '* As Catharine is making up a small parcel to send to you by her brother, I take the opportunity to enclose a small volume for your acceptance. 7 should have reserved it for our meeting at Holl) Grove, but, as I have observed that you are in- terested in watching the stages and habits of insects, I thought you might derive some gratifi- cation from this little book, as the companion of your rambles and researches during the vacation. Believe me, your sincere friend, " MARIANNE ARMSTRONG." The other was My dear Helen, Fairfield Lodye, June 30M. " Before we separated at Holly Grove, we made no engagement to write; and, perhaps, neither of us thought of doing it: but, as an opportunity occurs, I feel inclined to send you a line. You have often felt kindly interested in my family, and you will rejoice with me in my being able to say, that my dear father's health and spirits are very much improved. We have been enjoying a visit from my eldest brother. He has been staying a week with us in London. Yesterday papa brought us both to this delightful, rural spot, which I am sure you would admire. To-morrow they return to town, as Alfred is to reach Chesterfield on the 4th. He will stay a night at Holly Grove. This will enliven the scene a little, for poor little Fanny and Maria. I have had a letter from them. They 86 EARLY FRIENDSHIPS. are well, and speak with deserved gratitude of you. My sisters are all well ; and my little brother dear little fellow is just beginning to trot about. I often think of you, surrounded with your little brothers and sisters and your happy circle is yet complete! both your dear parents are spared to you. It is not so with us. I look at my little brother, and think how delighted my dear mamma would have been with his little en- gaging ways. But it is wrong to indulge feelings of regret on her account. She is happy, and per- haps still takes an interest in the happiness of those she loved on earth ; and I ought to be very thankful that, though she is taken, my dear papa is spared, and is regaining his health and spirits, which, at one time, it was feared would never be the case. " Just as we were leaving town, I received an in- vitation from Louisa Ellis and her mother, to go down with them to Matlock, and meet you there. I was rather surprised at the invitation, as our acquaint- ance was very slight merely occasioned by our lodging near each other in the Isle of Wight, when we went there for my dear mother's health. How- ever, it was particularly kind of them to propose it, though, of course, I could not accept it, being al- ready engaged by the kindness of Miss Armstrong and her aunts. Had it been, on other accounts, suitable for me to go to Matlock, I should have much enjoyed your society there, and exploring together the romantic scenery of that celebrated district. But we cannot enjoy everything. Here we are surrounded with whatever can conduce to EARLY FRIENDSHIPS. 87 our gratification and improvement. The elder Misses Armstrong, (Marianne's aunts) are most excellent women, and seem to make everybody around them happy. Marianne's friend, Miss Jennings, has been here more than a week. She is very amiable and well informed ; and, although they are both so much older than myself, afld have been long such- intimate friends, they treat me with the greatest kindness, and invite me to share their pleasures and pursuits. From Miss Jen- nings I have learnt to do that fine thread knitting which, I recollect, you admired, and wished to learn. I have just accomplished a little frock- body, which I enclose. If you think it worth making up, you will oblige me by accepting it for your little brother, and, when we meet, I shall be happy to teach you the stitch. How time passes away ! We have now little more than three weeks of the holidays remaining ! We shall then, I hope, return to our school duties with new vigour and alacrity. Marianne and Sophia are gone for a ride into the town. The former said I might give her love to you, but that, if she returned in time, she should, perhaps, write you a line herself. I wish she may do so. " Alfred tells me he had the pleasure of seeing you, when you called at my uncle's on your way home. He undertakes to convey my packet, as he says uncle has to visit your neighbourhood on business, in about a week. I hope he will find you well and happy. If you think proper, please to present my respects to your parents, though 88 EARLY FRIENDSHIPS. unknown ; and, with kind regards and best wishes to all your circle, I remain, your affectionate friend, " CATHARINE MILLMAN." " How very, very kind!" exclaimed Helen, as she laftl down the letters and proceeded to ex- amine the accompanying presents. " Look, mamma here is a frock-body for little Georgy. It is Catharine's own work is it not beautifully done ? Will you get some muslin for a skirt, and let me make it up for him? And, Henry, do come and look at this delightful little book ! It seems to give a description of all the dear little insects that you and I have so often watched. Here is a mark to direct me to the very one that I have been keeping for months in a little wooden house of its own building. How very exact this picture! and how beautifully coloured! The goat-moth ! I wonder how it was that we did not find it out in papa's Encyclopaedia." It was not often that Helen suffered her tongue to run on at such a rate ; but she was thoroughly excited by the unexpected kindness of her young friends. Her mother made the observation, but, correcting herself, added, with a smile, " Helen has no friends ! and yet she is remembered in ab- sence, and receives invitations, and presents, and letters, from no less than six persons, subscribing themselves her * sincere,' or 'obliged,' or 'affection- ate friends.' There is something very much like friendship in this. I do .think, Helen, you must EARLY FRIENDSHIPS. 89 have been under a mistake, and that, at least, some of these young people really are your friends." " Well, mamma, I can only wonder at their kindness to me, for I am sure I have done nothing to deserve it ; and I shall never be able to return their kindness." u I am not sure of that," replied her mother ; " kind- ness is not to be measured by costly gifts, so much as by prompt and thoughtful good- will. It is not so much the value of the gifts that delights you, however you may admire them, as the kindness with which they are conferred; that one young lady should recollect your partiality for insects, and another your wish to acquire a stitch in needle- work or knitting." " Yes, mamma, I do feel that ; and I should have felt it if the letters had come without any present at all. It pleases me just as much that dear little Fanny and Maria Lloyd should gather their wild flowers, and wish they could send them to me, as that Miss Armstrong should send me this elegant book with all these coloured plates." " I dare say it does, love ; and in the same manner you may probably have an opportunity of returning the kindness of your friends, in a way that will be quite as acceptable to them, as if you could offer gifts of equal value with their own. Friendship results from a similarity of tastes and pursuits, and from the reciprocation of a constant series of perhaps very small kindnesses and atten- i2 90 EARLY FRIENDSHIPS. tions, which mark and cherish the feelings of mutual good- will." " Then, mamma, I think very likely, after all, Catharine Millman and I are friends, or may be- come so in time ; and, perhaps, Maria and Fanny may too : but I do not know yet. There is not, as you say, ' similarity of tastes and pursuits,* so much as there is between Catharine and myself. We do think and feel very much alike only she is in every respect far above me." " You are nearer of an age with Miss Millman than with her cousins ; but the difference among you all is every day diminishing. If you should all live to double your present ages, it would be scarcely perceptible." "But Miss Armstrong, mamma I can never expect to be an equal for her. She is five or six years older than myself and then, she is so very clever and accomplished. There is no girl in the school that is reckoned equal with her. Her only intimate friend is Miss Jennings, Mrs. Gilbert's niece, and she is quite qualified to be a teacher, and has been a teacher the last twelvemonth ; and I should think Miss Armstrong is quite as for- ward." " Well, my dear, I do not at all object to your feeling a deep consciousness of your inferiority to this young lady ; nevertheless, if she is so kind as to notice you, though you cannot be exactly upon equal terms of friendship, her friendship may be very valuable to you. Her superior attainments EARLY FRIENDSHIPS. 91 and excellent example may stimulate and assist you in your own improvement." " Yes, mamma, I think they have been useful to me already. I have learnt some things more easily and thoroughly, owing to a few words being said to me, or the best way being pointed out to me, by Miss Armstrong or Miss Millman, who know so much better than myself; and their ex- ample has more than once kept me from joining others of the young ladies in schemes which, at the time, I hardly knew whether they were right or wrong: but I did not like to venture, because I was told not to mention the thing to Marianne or Catharine; and it afterwards turned out that it was very improper, and brought trouble upon all who were engaged in it." " Yes, it is a great advantage to have a friend to whose example we can safely look up, and who possesses an established character ; so that, though it is always our duty to think for ourselves, and not blindly to follow any one, yet we may be assisted in forming our own judgment, by observing how the thing is regarded by the wise and good, who possess more knowledge and experience than our- selves. It will generally be found safe to avoid what they avoid, if not always to follow what they follow." 11 Mamma, do you think I should answer all these letters? I should like to thank them for their kindness." "What! the letters, Helen?" " No, mamma my friends if it is not impro- 92 EARLY FRIENDSHIPS. per to call them my friends. I mean those who wrote the letters." " The young ladies have proved themselves friendly towards you, and you entertain grateful and friendly feelings towards them. I think you ought to write, and acknowledge their kindness. I suppose by this time Miss Millman has left Hertfordshire, or you might have addressed a let- ter to them unitedly." "Yes; or I could write to Catharine, and ask her to say what I wish to Miss Armstrong: JL should hardly like to make so free as to write to her. But, mamma, I do not know where Catha- rine's home in London is ; and, how could I direct a letter?" " That is a difficulty indeed. Do you know Miss Armstrong's address ?" " No, mamma I only know that it is in Hert- fordshire. I did not know the name of her aunts' house, except by the letter. It is about thirty miles from London ; but I do not know what town it is near." " This seems to exclude the possibility of your writing; and I suppose you must reserve your thanks until you can present them in person." Helen collected her treasures, obtained from her mother a piece of muslin and a pattern frock, and withdrew for the night. Very early in the morning she was at work in a favourite arbour, while her brother Henry read to her in Miss Armstrong's delightful little volume, which threw light on many of their previous inquiries and diffi- EARLY FRIENDSHIPS. 93 culties. By breakfast-time the frock was nearly completed, and Helen had bestowed many a thought of admiration on the beautiful workman- ship, and still more on the kind remembrance of her absent friend. As the family sat at breakfast, they were joined by Mr. Hollingsby. The interview proved highly agreeable to all parties. In the course of con- versation several persons mentioned were claimed as mutual friends. Mr. Somers was able to give bis visitor some local information, bearing upon the immediate object of his journey; and the sight of an interesting family of children led to a reciprocation of parental anxieties, hopes, and plea- sures. Each of these circumstances tended to bring the parties nearer together ; and, before Mr. Hollingsby proceeded on his way, it was mutually agreed, that a journey into their respective neigh- bourhoods should always, if possible, be the occa- sion of a friendly call. " Perhaps, Helen," said her mother, " this gen- tleman could favour you with one or both of the directions you were wishing for last night. My daughter, sir, wished to reply to the young friends whose communications you kindly brought her yesterday." " And pray who are they? I simply know that the packets were intrusted to me by my nephew. I think he said they were from his sister." " Yes, sir, one was from Miss Millman, and the other from Miss Armstrong." 94 EARLY FRIENDSHIPS. " Oh ! a friend of hers in Hertfordshire, where she has just been visiting. I do not exactly know her address. My niece, besides but stay if the letter is ready, I have just obtained a frank for Mr. Millman, and shall be happy to enclose it for you." " Thank you, sir : it is not written ; but perhaps you would give me leave to write it while you stay." " I am almost afraid to engage for waiting. Young ladies' letters are sometimes very long." " Mine will not be long, sir : I have not much to say." " Well, I will give you half an hour I shall lay my watch on the table, and keep time with you ; and, if half a sheet of paper each, and half an hour, will serve you to write your two letters, they may both be enclosed in the frank, and Ca- tharine will find means to forward the other to her friend." " Oh, thank you, sir thank you: I hope I shall be within time." " A very small seal, if you please, Miss Helen, lest we should exceed in weight." " Helen withdrew to her chamber. Her writing materials were all at hand, and in good order a matter of no small importance, when work is to be performed within a given time; and, before the half hour had quite expired, the two letters or rather notes were laid beside the watch, and the young correspondent received a well-merited com- pliment for her punctuality and despatch. EARLY FRIENDSHIPS. 95 Is the reader disposed to peep at the contents? she may do so without breach of confidence. " My dear Miss Armstrong, Netjterd ^' '* " I know not how to express my gratitude for your great kindness in writing to me, and sending me so beautiful and valuable a present. My bro- ther and I have begun reading it together, and we find in it exactly the information that we have been wishing to obtain. Please to accept my best thanks for all the pleasure we enjoy in the perusal, and for the kindness that led you to think of me, which I value still more highly. With best wishes for your health and happiness, I am, gratefully and respectfully, yours, HELEN SoMERS> ,, My dear Miss Millman, Netherdal*, July nth. :< I thank you very much for your kind letter and beautiful present. My dear mamma desires me also to express her thanks : we both admire it very much. It is almost made up, and will look very nicely on. Your uncle is so kind as to send this note for me in a frank, and one also for Miss Armstrong. If you can let her have it, I shall be much obliged; but if not, it is of no consequence. I dare say you have seen the book that Miss Armstrong was so kind as to send me. How very, very kind of you both to think of me, when out of sight ! I have also had a very kind letter from Maria and Fanny. If you write to them, please 96 EARLY FRIENDSHIPS. to give my love and thanks. I am very glad to hear that you found your dear papa better, and the rest of the family well. It must be a great com- fort to you. I am glad that you have had a plea- sant visit to Miss Armstrong, and hope your own health and spirits will be much benefited. My dear papa and mamma desire their kind regards to you, and are much pleased that you are so kind as to notice me. I remain, your obliged and affec- tionate friend, " HELEN SOMERS." " P. S. I forgot to say, that papa and mamma thought it better for me not to go to Matlock and I think so too ; though it was very kind of Mrs. Ellis and Louisa to invite me. It is more happy being at home than among strangers. I shall be very glad to meet you again at school, and hope you will kindly continue to forward my improvement." And so, after all her scruples, Helen had sub- scribed herself a friend ! but it was not until she really felt the sentiments and emotions of friend- ship ; and the friendship thus begun was not of transient date, like the noisy professions and un- founded attachments of many young people. The mutual regard of Helen and Catharine had been attracted by something amiable and excellent, which each discerned in the other. Friendship founded on esteem has in it the elements of perpetuity; while that which results from mere fancy or in- EARLY FRIENDSHIPS. 97 terest, will, in all probability, soon vanish away, or be exchanged for enmity. At the close of the vacation, Helen was one of the first who arrived at school. Her parents wisely considered it a very important part of her education, to form her to habits of punctuality, and to teach her to value the means of instruc- tion. Mrs. Gilbert received her with cordiality, and the little Lloyds with affectionate delight. Even the haughty Misses Gray seemed glad to welcome an addition to their little circle the more so, as their friend, Miss Harrington, had not returned. To Helen's great surprise, she heard from Mrs. Gil- bert, that Charlotte had accompanied Mrs. Ellis and Louisa to Matlock, and that their return to school was deferred for a week or ten days an irregularity which the good governess strongly disapproved, as at variance with the order of her establishment, and the improvement of her pupils. Helen could not help recollecting the contemptuous manner in which Charlotte had been used to speak to and of Louisa, and the sense that Louisa had expressed of her unkindness, and wondered how the arrangement had been brought about. The case was this : Mrs. Ellis, a gay, pleasure-taking lady, was not much society for her daughter, but thought herself entitled, by reason of her brother's carriage and liberality, to command for her any other society that she chose. She had accordingly, at Louisa's request, summoned Catharine and Helen, not doubting that her invitation would be K 98 "EARLY FRIENDSHIPS. joyfully accepted. To Louisa's sincere regret, and her mother's extreme mortification, both these young ladies declined. The day that Helen's letter was received, Charlotte happened to call. Mrs. Harrington transferred the invitation to her. It was accepted without hesitation, hy herself and her parents all her former sneers were forgotten, and Louisa became, for the time being, her beloved friend in other words, the means of promoting her selfish gratification. Before the arrival of these young ladies, all the rest of the school were assembled and fairly set- tled into their regular pursuits. The loiterers fully verified Mrs. Gilbert's remark, that such ir- regularities were unfavourable to improvement. Indeed, decidedly deteriorating effects were pro- duced on the character of each. Charlotte had taken several degrees, both in self-consequence and in creeping, mean servility qualities which often go together, and from which that young lady had never been altogether free ; Louisa, also, was more volatile and inattentive than before. Miss Harrington, by flattering her follies, had done her far more harm than by ridiculing them ; and, while she encouraged her idleness, by becoming her proxy, she exercised over her an influence that alienated from her those who would have proved themselves real friends, by assisting her to cure herself of her foibles. For a few weeks after her return to school, Louisa in a measure escaped disgrace, because her sums and her French exer- cises were done by Charlotte, and exhibited compara- EARLY FRIENDSHIPS. 99 lively few blunders ; and she enjoyed the privilege of letting her tongue run its full round of non- sense, for Charlotte found it her interest to listen to her ; hut her improvement was retarded, and her bad habits were becoming more and more inveterate. Charlotte's sense of obligation for past favours was not very deep or lasting; and, when Louisa's stock of disposable property again run low, she was again shaken off by her selfish friend, and left to the inconvenience and disgrace to which her idleness exposed her. Before the close of the half year, the little Lloyds, by sheer diligence and application, had raised themselves to a class above that in which Louisa still retained her disgraceful stand at the bottom. Several good-natured efforts were made, both by Helen and Catharine, to rouse in her a spirit of self-im- provement, but with very partial and uncertain success. She was much the same giddy, ignorant, but good-natured creature, at the close of the half year, as at its beginning. Meanwhile, Catharine and Helen had gone on steadily, advancing in every pursuit to which their attention was directed. They proceeded not on the mistaken supposition by which Charlotte and Louisa were actuated that school-tasks were something to be got through with as little trouble and as much credit as could be made to coalesce. They had a just sense of the value of knowledge, and desired to acquire as large a stock as possible, for purposes of practical utility. They considered the period of education as one of high privilege and responsibility the 100 EARLY FRIENDSHIPS. period in which they were to qualify themselves for filling important stations in society, in the manner in which their mother had set them a wor- thy example. Helen had the stimulus of becom- ing an assistant to her beloved mother Catharine, that of, in some degree, supplying the place of hers. A growing intimacy subsisted between these young ladies. They kept a pretty even pace in all their scholastic pursuits, and became more and more identified in their private interests. They were nearly on an equal footing, both in their inter- course with Miss Armstrong, and in their atten- tion to the Lloyds. Their home-presents were mutually shared, and home-intelligence mutually sympathized in. Separation was anticipated, as a necessary alloy to the pleasures of the approach- ing vacation, and plans and opportunities were speculated on, for transmitting the correspondence which it now seemed perfectly natural should be kept up in absence. They were real and acknow- ledged friends. There is a well-known adage, " Prosperity gains friends, but adversity tries them." The friends who have been attracted by prosperity, almost invariably fall away on the approach of adversity ; but, where friendship is pure, disinterested, and founded on genuine esteem, affliction serves to bring it out more prominently than ever. Like the rainbow, true friendship is brightest in the darkest storm. The attachment of our young friends was brought to this test, and it stood approved, confirmed, and endeared. EARL'if FRIENDSHIPS. 101 It was in the month of October that Helen, one evening, observed in Maria Lloyd an unusual list- lessness while preparing her task for the ensu- ing day. She questioned her as to her health, but, receiving the assurance that she was quite well, she ascribed the dulness to fatigue, and promised to attend to her a little in the morning. Before the usual time for rising, Helen was disturbed by the restlessness, sneezing, and coughing of her young companion. Helen had assisted in nursing some of the younger branches of her own family in the measles, and it immediately struck her that the symptoms resembled those by which that disease was indicated. Mrs. Gilbert had retired early the preceding evening, somewhat indisposed, and Helen was unwilling to disturb or alarm her. She endeavoured to recollect the movements of her own mother, and, as much as possible, to proceed in a similar manner. With a thoughtfulness above her years, (or rather, above a similar age in girls who have been waited upon by others, and never taught to observe or to act for themselves,) Helen considered that there were several things to be attended to, or" guarded against, which, for the present, devolved on herself. She was sure that Maria was ill, and that, for her, the safest course was to remain quietly in bed, until her indisposition should be properly inquired into and ascertained. She therefore gently awoke Fanny, and desired her to rise ; then smoothed the bed, drew the win- dow-blinds, and persuaded Maria to compose her- self to sleep. Then, she knew that it was imper- il 102 EARLY FRIENDSHIPS. taut to guavd' others' Against receiving the infection. If it were the measles, she rejoiced to know that she had had the disorder, and might, therefore, safely render herself useful. Whatever it might prove, she and Fanny had already been exposed to it, and she resolved that neither should quit the room, until Mrs. Gilbert's pleasure was known. Then she thought also, that it would be very im- proper for an alarm to be spread in the school, about what, after all, might prove an unfounded fancy of her own. She would not, therefore, com- municate her suspicions to a single individual not even to her friend Catharine. Accordingly, when Catharine's gentle tap announced half past six, Helen whispered a request that she would excuse her that morning, as she was particularly engaged, and wished to have her room alone. A half friend would have resented this; a jealous curiosity would have been excited, and angry sur- mises entertained, if not expressed, of fickleness, unkindness, and insincerity. Helen and Catha- rine were entire friends: they understood each other, and could exercise candour and confidence. Helen felt no hesitation or fear of offending, by expressing her request, and Catharine surmised no ill, and entertained no prying curiosity, but un- suspectingly returned to her own pursuits. Presently Mrs. Gilbert was heard moving in her chamber. Helen then gently tapped at the door, and was admitted not to rehearse all the clever things she had thought and done, but simply to express her hope that Mrs. Gilbert was better, and to re- EARLY FRIENDSHIPS. 103 quest that she would look at Maria Lloyd, who, she feared, was not quite well. The little girl was directed to remain in bed, and take some warm tea, which Helen requested permission to take up. Mrs. Gilbert beckoned her into her room. " My dear, have you had the measles?" " Yes, ma'am long ago all our family have had them the youngest two just before I came to school. Mamma allowed me to be- with her when she was nursing them, and I thought Maria seemed much as they were." " I rather think so too, my dear ; but I shall send immediately for a medical man. You have acted with great discretion, and I am much obliged to you. I will take Fanny with me, and leave Maria in your charge till after breakfast. I am sure she will be kindly and carefully attended to." Well pleased with the confidence reposed in her, Helen assiduously, but quietly, set herself about the duties of a nurse, rejoicing that her training at home had, in any degree, fitted her to be useful. When Mrs. Gilbert returned, the little girl had been refreshed with a cup of tea, and her hands and face sponged with warm water, Helen's bed was made, and the room made tidy, against the arrival of the doctor. On his entrance Helen withdrew, but was quickly summoned back, to give an account of her observation of the early symptoms. No doubt remained as to the nature of the attack, and every precaution was imme- diately adopted for preventing the infection from spreading. Little Fanny became a temporary in- 101 EARLY FRIENDSHIPS. mate of Mrs. Gilbert's own room, and Helen alone was allowed access to the sick chamber. Catha- rine was, indeed, the only girl, besides Helen, in the habit of frequenting that room, and on her a special embargo was laid, as she had not had the disorder. It was a great alleviation to her anxiety, as well as a great consolation to the little sufferer, that an exception was made in favour of Helen, who sedulously improved the privilege. At every interval of school engagements she was plying her gentle and soothing attentions encouraging the sick child patiently to submit to the requisite dis- cipline cheering her with the hope of speedy recovery and directing her thoughts to " Him in whose hand our breath is, and whose are all our ways.*' Maria was not allowed to read, nor could she bear much excitement; but her young nurse seemed gifted with a delicacy of perception not always possessed by old nurses just how far she might go in reading to, or conversing with her, so as beneficially to engage her attention and gratify her feelings, without inflicting weariness and when to present the simple refreshment, without either, inducing exhaustion, or oppressing the feeble ap- petite. Nor was she less prompt and attentive in conveying to Catharine frequent intimations of the favourable progress of the disorder, and assurances of affectionate regard from the patient. Every- thing went on so well, that it was not considered necessary to leave a nurse constantly in the room. A trusty servant was left in charge, occasionally to look in during the absence of Helen; and, EARLY FRIENDSHIPS. 105 when she was at liberty, no other attendant was required. No little girl could possibly be more agreeably nursed than Maria, or go through the disease more satisfactorily. Within a week from the commencement of the attack, she was carried into another room for several hours in the day, and was able to amuse herself with the maps, puz- zles, and other playthings, kindly furnished, in great variety, by her school-fellows. There was one gratification after which she pined, but which it was considered prudent to withhold the sight of her sister and cousin. It required the utmost stretch of Helen's ingenuity and patience to keep her at all contented in submitting to Mrs. Gilbert's strict injunction in this particular. The precau- tion, however, was useless ; for, within a fortnight of Maria's seizure, several other young ladies had fallen ill with the same disorder, including both Catharine and Fanny, who each had it much more severely than Maria : indeed, for several days, the life of each hung in jeopardy so much so, that it was considered necessary to summon Mr. Millman, under the painful apprehension that his beloved daughter would scarcely survive to recognize him. Marianne and Helen deeply shared in the affliction, yet they forbore any noisy expression of useless grief, and, suppressing their feelings, exerted them- selves, in every possible way, to render themselves useful, in sharing the fatigues of their governess, and administering to the comfort of their suffering fellow-pupils. In this department of service, while both were actuated by equal good- will and 106 EARLY FRIENDSHIPS. attachment, Helen discovered a very superior de- gree of practical aptitude, which was attested by the decided preference of the patients for her assist- ance, even during the prevalence of delirium, and generously admitted by her senior coadjutor, who, with docility equal to that with which Helen had received her instructions in her literary pursuits, yielded to Helen the post of precedence in apply- ing leeches and blisters, flavouring lemonade, and lifting up the sick ones to receive nourishment or medicine. Helen's aptitude had been gained by early observation and experience, of which Mari- anne had had no opportunity; and she willingly confessed herself but an awkward learner of a young adept. For a few days, while the disorder was at the worst, and recovery almost despaired of, Helen was almost incessantly at the bedside of one or other of the sufferers, to whom no attentions but hers seemed at all acceptable. Mrs. Gilbert, though loth to deprive the sufferers of so valuable a solace, or the willing-hearted girl of the pleasure of rendering her services, became really apprehen- sive of her own health sustaining injury by close confinement. She was relieved, however, by the assurance of Miss Armstrong, that the active and notionable habits of the dear girl were likely to preserve her health uninjured, and to enable her to continue her valuable services as long as they might be required ; for, although she was sure to be found at the post of service, whenever she could be useful, she never neglected an opportu- nity, when she could really be spared, of refresh- EARLY FRIENDSHIPS. 107 ing herself by a run in the open air, or by the use of the shower-bath, to which, in Mrs. Gilberts establishment, all the young people had access. By this proper attention to herself, Helen dis- covered real disinterestedness and generous affec- tion, while a sickly sensibility, that would affect total regardlessness of self, and refuse to eat or rest, or attend to any of the ordinary vocations of the day, may often be traced to mere selfishness and affectation, and almost always evaporates in idle sentimentality, instead of prompting to diligent, self-denying, and useful exertion. The sensibility and affection of Marianne and Helen were of the genuine and vigorous kind, and left them no lei- sure, from the exercise of prompt consideration and active service, for the mere display of feeling. They did feel, and feel keenly, the sufferings of those they loved, and the apprehension of losing them ; and they sympathized tenderly in the distress of the sorrowing relatives. But their feelings were not expressed in sobs and tears, which would have disturbed the sufferings and aggravated the dis- tress of surrounding friends. Their minds, too, were deeply solemnized at the opening prospects of eternity, brought so evidently near to them, when they saw their young companions apparently just about to enter it. Their chief solace was in recalling to recollection pleasing evidences that, in the time of Health, the concerns of eternity had not been disregarded by the objects of their so- licitude. In Catharine especially, many proofs existed of a conscientious disposition and hc'y 108 EARLY FRIENDSHIPS. habits, with some few expressions of deep pious feeling; and, oh how satisfactory and soothing was it to her agonized father, and to her deeply anxious governess, as well as to her attached young friends, to indulge the cheering assurance that, under a consciousness of sin and danger, she had fled for refuge to lay hold on the hope set before her in the gospel ; and that, should she be torn from their embraces, she would be admitted to join the general assembly and church of the First-born above ! Such, dear young reader, would be the grounds of satisfaction and consolation, most earnestly desired by your pious friends, if they should be called to see you sinking beneath the ravages of disease, or to weep over your early tomb. Should they not now engage your own attention, and form the object of your supreme solicitude? Oh, let your youthful days be con- secrated to the service of the Saviour, that thus you may be prepared for longer days, or fit for early death. After several days of alarming suspense, the disorder, in both instances, took a favourable turn ; and, although there was enough remaining weakness and exhaustion to require extreme care, and keep alive painful anxiety, there was a per- ceptible progress towards recovery yet, so slow and interrupted, as to forbid the return of the young ladies to their regular employments. They were necessarily cherished as hot-bed plants, for some time, and then, with great care, conveyed to Catharine's home, some weeks before the vacation. EARLY FRIENDSHIPS. 109 Catharine's aunt, Mrs. Hollingsby, having pur- posed a visit to her relatives in London, at the time when her beloved niece would be at home for the Christmas recess, was induced to anticipate her intended visit, and on her way to call at Holly Grove, and take charge of the young convalescents to town. An unfavourable- change in the weather detained them several days after Mrs. Hollingsby's arrival. This delay proved the occasion of esta- blishing an intimacy between Mrs. Hollingsby and the amiable young friends of her niece. For both of them she cherished a grateful and affectionate attachment, and indulged a pleasing hope that the friendship formed at school would be perpetuated through future life. As her return home was to take place about the time of the breaking up, Mrs. Hollingsby invited Helen to accompany her. To this arrangement Mr. and Mrs. Somers readily consented. Repeated opportunities of intercourse had led them to entertain a growing esteem for Mr. and Mrs. Hollingsby ; so that they felt no hesita- tion in accepting their kind offer, and trusting Helen to their care for a day or two. It was also matter of accommodation to have her brought so near home, without either of her parents having to take a journey on purpose to fetch her. Helen also looked forward to the engagement with great pleasure, in the prospect of an agreeable com- panion on her journey a companion who would bring her every particular of the progressing recovery of Catharine and her cousins of a short L 110 EARLY FRIENDSHIPS. visit to an interesting family and that, as but one short stage from her own beloved home. It was tov/ards the end of November when Mrs*. Hollingsby and her invalid charge took leave of Holly Grove. The chaise was ordered at ten o'clock. The morning was unusually clear for the season, and every arrangement was made to secure the travellers reaching their destination before the fogs of evening should arise. Marianne and Helen had been up early, packing the trunks, and laying ready all the well-aired wrappings for their young friends. Everything was completed in good time. The chaise was at the door the medical gentleman who had attended through the illness, called to take leave of his patients, and to see them off. Marianne had reserved for the parting moment a handsome present, which she had purchased for Catharine a fur tippet, then known by the name of a pelisse tippet, but called, in modern language, either a boa or a pelerine. All had bid farewell to each other Mrs. Hol- lingsby was already in the chaise the doctor had carried to her one of the little girls, and was returning to receive the other from Mrs. Gilbert's arms, when Marianne ran down stairs, holding in her two hands the tippet, ready to throw it over Catharine's shoulders. In her haste she missed the lowest step, and fell down ; Helen, who was leading Catharine towards the door, sprung to Mari- anne's assistance, and attempted to raise her up. " Never mind me," said Marianne, in a tone EARLY FRIENDSHIPS. Ill indicative of great pain. " Give this to dear Ca- tharine, with my kindest love, and tell her that I am not much hurt.'* To her great alarm, Helen found that Marianne was unahle to rise. For one moment she left her not so much for the sake of conveying her present to Catharine though she had but the length of the passage to reach her, as to entreat Mrs. Gilbert to hasten to her assistance. It was a moment of confusion. The attention of Mrs. Gilbert and the medical gentleman was engrossed in hurrying off the travel- lers, and securing them against injury from delay at the moment of starting, and Catharine's inqui- ries and Helen's entreaties were alike unheeded. Happily for Catharine, she knew no more than that her friend had slipped down, but was not much hurt. Had she suspected the extent of the in- jury, it would have altogether imbittered her jour- ney. As it was, she frequently reverted to the circumstance, with an anxious expression of hope that dear Marianne had not hurt herself more than she was aware of, and of additional regret that the accident should have occurred in connexion with a kind effort to serve and gratify her. It was scarcely the work of a minute to hurry Catharine into the chaise, and, the same instant in which the first roll of the wheels was heard, brought Mrs. Gilbert and her medical friend to the stairs- foot, to inquire into the cause of Helen's alarm. Helen was already there, supporting the head of her friend, who had fainted with pain. On ex- amination, it was found that her leg was fractured 112 EARLY FRIENDSHIPS. just above the ancle. The sufferer was quickly placed in bed, and the limb set. The surgeon, from the first, encouraged the hope of a favourable progress towards recovery ; but, at the same time, stated that the fracture was in a very bad part, and that the most absolute stillness, for a very long time, was indispensable to the least chance of freedom from lameness for life. Violent pain is a great trial of patience and fortitude; but those who have not experienced it, or at least wit- nessed it, in those very dear to them, can form no idea how much more trying it is to be entirely confined to one position, night and day, sleeping and waking, and that for weeks, or perhaps months together, sometimes in conjunction with excruciat- ing pain sometimes in comparative ease but in a state of constant weariness. Such a trial en- hances and displays the value of " a meek and quiet spirit," and the exercise of self-possession, grounded on true Christian principles those of submission to the will of an unerring and gracious Heavenly Parent desire to profit by His dispen- sations and humble appropriation of the supports and consolations whch his word reveals and pro- mises. Happily for Marianne Armstrong, these were exercises of mind to which she was no stranger. She was enabled, b) divine grace, in her patience to possess her soul, humbling herself under the mighty hand of God, who had seen fit thus to afflict her, and gently submitting to pain, privation, and restriction. Such a spirit, while it endears the sufferer to all around, and greatly EARLY FRIENDSHIPS. 113 alleviates the task of the attendants, tends equally to alleviate the sufferings and to promote the recovery of the individual. Patience and quietness in suf- fering do much to avert fever and nervous irrita- tion, which, it is well known, in many instances aggravate danger and retard recovery, if not occa- sion death, from accidents not in themselves very formidable. In Miss Armstrong's case, everything was in her favour. Neither her physical nor her mental frame were of an irritable, excitable, cast; and then, she enjoyed the superadded advantages of habitual self-government, and the influence of religious principles. Instead of being " filled with tossings to and fro, until the dawning of the day," which, in circumstances like those of Marianne, is often occasioned by the mere consciousness of being prohibited to move at all, it was her wisdom and her privilege to " commune with her own heart upon her bed, and be still." She was tranquil when in solitude, and grateful for the sympathiz- ing attentions and cheerful, yet quiet society of her friends. It will readily be supposed that Helen was not an indifferent or inactive spectator, or that her sympathies were confined to pitying expressions and kind inquiries. The thoughtful, steady, active spirit of kindness, rendered her at- tentions a real solace to her suffering friend, and a truly valuable assistance to her anxious gover- ness. For the first few days, while any apprehen- sions of fever were entertained, conversation was forbidden, and Helen, at each interval of her school duties, merely stole in to look at her friend, and, L 2 114 EARLY FRIENDSHIPS. by the gentle pressure of her hand, to convey an assurance of her sympathy. But, as all went on favourably, the restriction was gradually taken off, and Helen, whose discretion had won the entire confidence both of her governess and of the sur- geon, was permitted, ad libitum, to spend her lei- sure time in the sick chamber, conversing, read- ing, or otherwise entertaining her friend. The services of a professed nurse, obtained from the county hospital, were soon dispensed with. The retiring disposition of the young lady rendered it disagreeable to her to have a stranger constantly present, and almost persecuting her with well- meant assiduities, which her few and simple re- quirements, and her scrupulous and determined adherence to the directions of the surgeon, ren- dered quite unnecessary. In less than a week after the accident happened, as Mrs. Gilbert sat by the bedside of her pupil, inquiring if there was anything by which her comfort might be promoted, Miss Armstrong replied, " Yes, ma'am there is one thing that would be a very great comfort to me : it is, if you would allow me to be left with- out a constant attendant. The nurse is very kind and careful, but her presence is rather an annoy- ance to me. She wishes me to take food when I do not require it ; in the day time, she endeavours to divert me with conversation in which I have no interest, and at night she keeps me awake by her snoring. If I might be permitted to pass the night alone, I should sleep quietly, and want no attention, and, in the day time, I should enjoy EARLY FRIENDSHIPS. 115 . solitude, while you are all engaged ; and a call from you, or dear Helen, when quite convenient, would give me as much society as I desire. I assure you I feel very well in health, not at all depressed in spirits, and, having no occasion for nourishment more frequently than if I were about, as usual, why should a person be kept constantly employed in waiting on me?" " I should be very happy, my love, to meet your wishes ; but, at present, it would be hardly proper for you to be left to the occasional attend- ance, which is all that Helen or myself can render you. Besides, it is requisite that the person who arranges your bed, should possess that peculiar aptitude which is only to be acquired by expe- rience. It was on that ground particularly, that we were desirous of securing one of the most skilful and experienced nurses, and one who had been accustomed to wait upon patients with fractured limbs. I assure you it requires quite a different kind of movement, in adjusting the bed, which a person accustomed only to nursing people in or- dinary sickness would scarcely acquire. I really should be afraid to trust myself to attempt it. Only suppose that one inadvertent movement should displace the fractured bone!" " Well, ma'am, if it is necessary that the nurse should remain, it is my duty to submit to it, and to be thankful for having such assistance?" After this, Marianne was not heard to utter another complaint, or express another wish on the subject. It is probable, from the habitual serenity 116 EARLY FRIENDSHIPS. and cheerfulness she discovered, that she did not indulge her thoughts in roving upon it. She had philosophy enough to enter into the wise saying of the ancients, " It is a disease of the mind, to desire that which is unattainable," and Christianity enough to submit herself in trifles, as well as in great matters, to those who were placed in autho- rity over her. A few days later, her wishes were fulfilled without any interference of her own. The nurse, who was in high request at the hospital, received an intimation that she was much wanted there, and the surgeon was of opinion, that so do- cile a patient as Miss Armstrong might be safely left in the care of the intelligent household of which she was a member. Mrs. Gilbert made arrangements for such additional help in the kitchen as would leave one trusty servant at liberty to attend upon Miss Armstrong, whenever she might require her services, without obtruding her presence whether or not she was wanted. Helen readily undertook to devote all her leisure to the comfort of her friend, in any way that would be most gratifying to her feelings ; and, as both Helen and Martha (the servant) had more than once assisted the nurse in adjusting the bed, and were very observant of her methods, there was no doubt that, under the direction of the sur- geon, everything would be done quite as much to the comfort, and still more to the satisfaction, of the young lady. Helen was exceedingly desirous of being permitted to take Miss Millman's place in the chamber at night ; but to this neither Mrs. EARLY FRIENDSHIPS. ll? Gilbert, nor even Marianne herself, would by any means consent, lest her health should suffer from interrupted rest, or from being confined to a room so constantly occupied. Martha, who slept in an adjoining room, was charged with any requisite attention in the course of the night. She was, however, scarcely ever called upon. The young lady found it such a relief to be free from an in- mate in her chamber, that, after taking refreshment before the family retired, she generally remained perfectly quiet till morning, when Helen paid her an early visit, and, through the day, only left her for the purposes of study, meals, and exercise. Helen was quick in her perceptions, and quiet in her movements, and, like Miss Armstrong herself, a lover of order. She seemed intuitively to un- derstand the wishes of her friend. She brought her what she desired, without displacing anything else, and kept the room not merely in neat order, aut in the same order as that in which it had be- fore been kept. To a person confined day after day to the one contracted prospect of their own chamber, and when every article becomes an object of observation, it is a gratification to see all just in their regular places. If one or more be absent or displaced, it often occasions a painful scene of deficiency or disorder; and, however tranquil may be the ordinary state of the temper, nerves, and spirits, it is scarcely possible that very long confinement should fail to excite some degree of irritability ; at least, those concerned in attend- ance on the sick ought to be carefully observant 118 EARLY FRIENDSHIPS. to avoid anything that might be likely to provoke it. Happily for Marianne Armstrong, she was unusually free from this sort of painful excite- ment; and, thanks to the promptness and con- sideration of her young attendant, there was, in surrounding circumstances, as little as possible that could occasion it. Every time that Helen entered the apartment, her quick eye ran around, and, without noise or bustle, everything was quickly placed just in the order that she knew would be most agreeable to the feelings of her friend. When the room was thus nicely arranged, as a matter of preliminary comfort, Helen some- times read to her friend sometimes talked with her sometimes wrote a letter from her dictation, to her aunts, or to Catharine, or to her still earlier friend, Miss Jennings. All these exercises, while they tended to promote intimacy and endearment, tended also to mutual improvement. Helen, to the present day, often refers with interest and pleasure to a book perused, a study pursued, or an interesting narrative related to her, in Miss Armstrong's sick chamber. When Helen was obliged to leave her friend, she placed within her reach her small Bible, and any other book she might choose, or a packet of old letters letters which, not being filled with mere empty compli- ments and nonsense, but with something really interesting and worth reading at first, were found capable of awakening new interest and gratifica- tion, on a second reading. She was also furnished with a sheet of ass's skin, and a pencil, to mark EARLY FRIENDSHIPS. 119 down anything that might occur to her as matter of conversation or reading, when Helen should return. There was one errand on which Helen, with peculiar gladness, hastened to the sick room. It was when the postman had brought a letter; which she knew was, to Marianne, one of the most welcome variations of her solitude. If friends in the enjoyment of health and liberty were fully aware how great solace is afforded by a sensible, affectionate letter to the prisoner of Providence, who languishes and pines in the solitude of a sick * chamber, they would be inclined to regard it as an act of duty to render it ; and, if an hour for that purpose were not otherwise at their command, it would be ransomed by the sacrifice of unnecessary repose, or personal decoration, or visiting. The gratification might be considerably extended, and rendered more valuable, by an arrangement among several friends, for the division of this labour of love ; so that, neither should the sick person be satiated by an accumulation of letters coming together, and all, perhaps, bringing nearly the same intelligence, nor yet kept long in destitution of one of these friendly tokens of remembrance. Such an arrangement was entered into among the correspondents of Miss Armstrong, and their well- distributed favours shed a cheerful gleam over her days of darkness. In these letters Helen was not forgotten. Mrs. Gilbert, in her letters to the aunts of Marianne, which, however short, were sent daily, to report the state of the case, had, more than once, mentioned the kind attentions of Helen, 120 EARLY FRIENDSHIPS. as at once a great source of consolation and enjoy- ment to the object of their solicitude, and a great alleviation of her own fatigues and anxieties ; and to Catharine and Miss Jennings, Helen had heen herself employed to communicate the intelligence ; and, after the first few days, when Miss Armstrong was allowed to converse, she became her amanu- ensis in all her correspondence, and was, of course, mentioned with gratitude and attachment in the several replies. Helen felt unconscious of having done anything to merit all the kind things that were said of her and to her ; yet she was not in- sensible to them. In being beloved, she realized the natural consequence and just reward of having rendered herself amiable. Happy are those young people whose dispositions, principles, and habits, render feelings and acts of benevolence delightfully natural to them ; and, cause have they for grati- tude, more than they can well conceive, to those whose judicious early training, in the first few months of their existence for the lesson is scarcely ever, with complete success, imparted at a later period taught them to know the sweets of kindness. Several days in December had passed away, and the young ladies were all busy in completing their various performances for the breaking up, which was to take place on the 19th. It now became a matter of anxious consideration with all parties, to provide an agreeable companion for Miss Arm- strong during the vacation. She had never herself expressed any anxiety or even inquiry on the EARLY FRIENDSHIPS. 121 subject; though, when receiving the tender and sisterly assistance of her young friend, there was sometimes, mingled with her affectionate thanks, a suppressed indication of anxiety, that seemed to say, * What shall I do when I have lost you?* Neither had Mrs. Gilbert and Helen conversed on the subject, although both of them thought of it with much concern ; and it was indeed the only subject connected with the comfort and welfare of the patient, of which they did not speak freely. Helen knew that it was Mrs. Gilbert's intention to take the young ladies to London, and remain there the first three weeks of the holidays, and that she had made arrangements for spending that time with friends who would be greatly disap- pointed by any alteration in her plans. Besides, though Mrs. Gilbert was exceedingly beloved by her pupils, and although Miss Armstrong, as the senior pupil, and a parlour boarder, was on a foot- ing of somewhat greater freedom and intimacy than the pupils in general, it could not be sup- posed but that the multitude of various cases pressing on the mind of the governess, on the one hand, and, on the other, the habit of respectful distance properly observed by a pupil, would pre- vent that minute attention to little things, and that intimate familiarity, which had been so conducive to the comfort and cheerfulness of the sufferer. Helen had now acquired such an aptitude in sup- porting Marianne to receive her food, that a regu- lar understanding seemed to be established, that, on such occasions, her presence and assistance M 122 EARLY FRIENDSHIPS. were necessary. She usually assisted Martha in arranging Miss Armstrong's bed, and giving her her breakfast, and then took her own with Mrs. Gilbert. On entering the parlour one morning, she found Mrs. Gilbert in tears, and with an ex- pression of great anxiety on her countenance, holding a letter in her hand. She felt herself an intruder, and attempted to retreat unobserved ; but Mrs. Gilbert desired her to take her place at the table. " I have just received a perplexing disappoint- ment," said Mrs. Gilbert. " I was hoping that my dear niece, Sophia Jennings, might have been able to spend the first part of the vacation here, as a com- panion to Miss Armstrong; but it cannot possibly be arranged for her to do so." " I am very sorry to hear it, ma'am. It would have been so delightful for Miss Armstrong to have had her old friend with her. I have been quite hoping that it might be so." " Yes it would have been a mutual comfort to them. However, it is one mercy to know, that all these lesser matters, as well as the greatest, are overruled by our heavenly Father, who does not afflict willingly, nor grieve the children of men. He who * wings an angel, and guides a sparrow,' permitted the fall which has occasioned our dear girl so much suffering. He has mercifully directed many alleviating circumstances, and has been es- pecially gracious in enabling her to exercise so sweet a spirit of meekness and satisfaction. This will be a great trial to her ; but I trust she will be EARLY FRIENDSHIPS. 123 enabled to reconcile her mind to it. Do you know whether she has depended much on having Sophia with her ?" " No, ma'am : Miss Armstrong has scarcely mentioned the subject to me. She has merely, once or twice, said that, by the commencement of the holidays, she hoped she might be allowed to sit up a little, that she might amuse herself with needlework or knitting ; and she has mentioned several books which she intended to procure for reading in the vacation." " Dear girl! I dare say she is planning full em- ployment for herself, in the expectation of being left in solitude : but this must not be. Although, considering her circumstances, she has been all along astonishingly well, and free from fever or any unfavourable symptoms, it is impossible that, through so long a confinement to one spot, she should retain her full health and vigour, either of body or spirits; and, without cheerful society, both would sink. Indeed, Mr. Evans has more than once observed, that he considered Miss Arm- strong's unusually favourable progress to be, in a great measure, ascribed to her having just a due proportion of quiet repose and agreeable society. He says that patients at home, surrounded with numerous relatives and friends, often suffer from over excitement, by seeing and conversing with too many persons ; while those in hospitals are equally injured by the depressing influence of solitude, or, what is nearly equal to it, separation from all they know and love. I think, Helen, 124 EARLY FRIENDSHIPS. you have the satisfaction of having contributed, in no ordinary degree, to the tranquillity and cheer- fulness of your friend, and, consequently, to her speedy recovery." " I am very glad, ma'am, if I have been at all use- ful ; and I wish I mean, I am very glad that my dear mamma has taught all of us to like to do any- thing we can for those who are ill." " It is, indeed, my dear, one of the many causes you have for thankfulness the instructions you have received, and the habits to which you have been formed, under the direction of an excellent mother. I trust that you, and each one of the family, may grow up to be comforts to her, as great as her tender and judicious care of you may justly lead her to expect. Have you written your letter, love ?" " No, ma'am I reserved it for to-day, being half holiday. If you please, I can do it in Miss Armstrong's room." " Do, my dear. I want, this afternoon, to go into the town on business ; and it will be a satisfac- tion to know that you are spending the afternoon in Miss Armstrong's room, without interference with your own plans and purposes." " Shall I keep my letter, ma'am, till you return in the evening?" " No, my dear, there is no occasion : I am not afraid of your sending away false spelling or grammar. Do not forget to present my kindest respects to your papa and mamma. I must now go and see Miss Armstrong before school com- EARLY FRIENDSHIPS. 125 menccs, and talk to her about this letter: and do, my dear girl, take a brisk run in the play-ground, as the morning is so fine, or exercise yourself with your skipping-rope." On visiting the sick chamber at noon, Helen observed an unusual pensiveness on the counte- nance of her friend, which she naturally attributed to the communication made to her by Mrs. Gilbert. She soon, however, resumed her wonted placidity, and, in the friendly attentions and cheerful con- versation of Helen, seemed to have forgotten her cause of trouble, whatever it might be. In the afternoon Helen wrote and despatched her letter, and then sat down to needlework. The topic of Sophia's letter was soon brought up. " I suppose, Helen," said Miss Armstrong, " Mrs. Gilbert told you about it?" " Yes, she did and I am very sorry to hear that Miss Jennings cannot spend the holidays with you. Her company would have been so very delightful for you." " Yes, it would ; but I could not expect to enjoy it. It was by an arrangement with one of her fellow- teachers, that she was permitted to spend the whole of the summer vacation with me at my aunts', with an understanding that she should give up the whole of the Christmas vacation instead. I enjoyed the pleasure of her society then, and it would be abominably selfish to think of interfering with the just claims of another now. I am sure Mrs. Gilbert could not have distinctly understood M2 126 EARLY FRIENDSHIPS the arrangement, or she would not have asked for Sophia here." " Mrs. Gilbert hoped that Miss Jennings might be able to make a similar arrangement with ano- ther of the teachers." " It was exceedingly kind of her to make the proposal, but, for my own part, I never had any expectation of it; therefore, it is no disappoint- ment to me. I have all along calculated on being left alone for the vacation, and have laid my plans accordingly. Mrs. Gilbert has very kindly pro- posed to give up her own engagements, and merely go to London with the young ladies, and return the next day; but I begged her not to think of doing so. I am sure she needs the re- creation of the holidays as much as any one, and I could not bear for her to confine herself on my account : she would never sustain the fatigues of the next half year." " But you would not like to be left quite alone, would you?" " After enjoying so long your kindness, and that of Mrs. Gilbert, it would be ridiculous and ungrateful to say that I should like to be left alone. Of course, I should not prefer it ; but I have quite made up my mind to it. You know Martha is very kind and attentive, and, in the holidays, she will be quite at leisure, and able to do for me everything that I shall need ; and then, by a constant succession of employment, I can surely keep up my spirits : besides, my friends will often EARLY FRIENDSHIPS. 127 indulge me with a letter, each of which will cheer me for two or three days. You will write to me, Helen will you not?" " Yes, surely I will, if you please ; hut do not let us talk ahout your heing left alone just yet. There is a fortnight still to come, and we do not know what may happen in a fortnight * Sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof.' It is a folly to distress ourselves ahout what may never happen." " Yes, dear Helen, it would he foolish and wrong to do so ; but I can assure you, that though I cannot say I never think ahout being left alone, or that I think about it with indifference, it would distress me much more to think of imposing on the kindness of my friends, by keeping Mrs. Gilbert, or any other friend, to share my imprisonment. It is not as if the accident had happened the day before all were leaving : it would then have been necessary for some one to stay, or more than one. What should I have done at first, dear, without you, and Mrs. Gilbert, and Martha, and even the old snor- ing nurse, whom I was so glad to get rid of? O Helen, you have been a dear kind friend to me I shall never be able to requite your kindness!" " Dear Miss Armstrong, do not say so. What have I done more than I ought to have done for any one in suffering, even if I had not loved them ? And then, think how very kind you have been to me, even when I was almost a stranger. I am sure I may thank you for standing where I do in the school and, what is more, for having gained in the time more real improvement than I could 128 EARLY FRIENDSHIPS. have done without your assistance. And now, if you feel able, I should be much obliged to you to glance your eye over this Italian exercise, and point out any faults." The exercise was correctly done: but Miss Armstrong suggested two or three slight alterations, by which the translation would be rendered more elegant, and not less exact. Such assistance from an elder to a junior student is truly valuable. Widely different from the help that encourages indolence by furnishing a proxy in the labour of learning, this species of help promotes real im- provement, by assisting the learner to proceed more intelligently, and by awakening a nicer percep- tion of the minutest points of propriety and ele- gance ; which, without such assistance, is not easily acquired, and, if not possessed, leaves a clumsiness of style, that depreciates the perform- ances even of the most diligent and accurate pupil. On the present occasion, Helen's chief object was to divert the attention of her friend from the prospect of their separation. The effort succeeded the evening was spent cheerfully, and no far- ther allusion was made to the holidays. On part- ing for the night, Miss Armstrong observed that she hoped for a letter the next morning from her aunts. No letter, however, arrived; and, for the first time since Marianne's accident, Helen,when she brought up her breakfast, was the bearer of a mes- sage of disappointment. The disappointment was not of long duration : though no letter was addressed to Miss Armstrong, there was one to Mrs. Gilbert, EARLY FRIENDSHIPS. 129 the contents of which were speedily communicated. Its chief object was to consult Mrs. Gilbert as to the practicability of removing Miss Arm strong, or, if that could not be effected with safety, the arrangement of some plan for the vacation. One of the elder Misser Armstrong was a constant invalid, and her sister could not satisfactorily leave her for any length of time, especially in the winter season, or she would gladly have visited her afflicted niece, and remained with her when she should be deprived of the society of her excellent governess, and her estimable young friend Miss Somers. But it was proposed by the ladies to send their own per- sonal domestic, to remain with Marianne until she was sufficiently recovered to bear the journey home. They hoped this arrangement, which was the best they could suggest, might meet the con- venience of Mrs. Gilbert, and the wishes of Mari- anne. A letter to Marianne herself was reserved for enclosure in a package then on the road. In the course of the morning the said package arrived. It was found to contain, addressed to Miss Somers, an elegant portable desk, and an equally elegant and complete work-box, accompanied by a note from each of the Misses Armstrong, expressing their warm thanks for her kind and valuable at- tentions to their beloved niece, and desiring her to accept the accompanying tokens of their friendly and grateful regard, and their wish for a personal acquaintance. There were also liberal presents for the servants, and for all who had in any way con- tributed to the comfort of Marianne. 130 EARLY FRIENDSHIPS. While Helen could scarcely set bounds to her expressions of astonishment and gratitude, Mari- anne simply observed, she was glad her aunts had done so it was quite what she expected and wished ; " but do not, my dear Helen," added she, " suppose that they intend it as a recompense for your kindness : it is but an acknowledgment and they meant it as such. They feel with me, that kindness can be returned only in kind and your kindness, my dear girl, in this time of need, the friendship of a life can barely requite." Helen made no reply, but mused in wonder at the high value set on acts of real kindness. She could not help contrasting in her own mind the passionate ex- pressions of friendship of Charlotte Harrington which proved as short-lived as it was groundless with the steady, growing, and deep-felt attach- ment of Catharine and Marianne, grounded and sustained by mutual esteem, and growing on acts of reciprocal kindness ; and she came, in her own mind, to the pleasing conclusion " Then I really have two friends friends not hastily chosen friends who are able and inclined to improve my character and friends whom I may hope to re- tain in future life. I am glad my dear mamma conversed with me on the subject before I left home : but for her kind advice, I might have be- come intimate with girls who would have done me injury rather than good; and, if they had been my chosen companions, I should never have been noticed by those who are now my friends. They were not hasty in bestowing their friendship but EARLY FRIENDSHIPS. 131 it is worth having, now it is possessed." Such was the strain of Helen's revery, from which she was roused by Marianne entering into con- versation about the contents of her aunts' letter, and their proposed plan for the holidays. " It is exceedingly kind of my aunts to offer to send Sutton ; but I cannot think of depriving them of her services. I cannot imagine what they would do without her, especially if my aunt Rachel should have one of her attacks and she scarcely ever passes a winter without. Sutton is then as essential to her comfort as you, dear Helen, have been to mine. Besides, much as I respect Sutton, I should really be more comfortable without her. Martha has now become so used to do things for me, that no one could do more nicely than she, in that respect; and when she has done what I re- quire, she leaves the room: but Sutton, as an old attached servant, who has been used to me from my infancy, and coming here on purpose to attend me, might often be inclined to remain when I should prefer being alone. You know my plan is laid for solitary employment, and my mind is quite made up to it." The conversation was broken off by the entrance of Mrs. Gilbert with the surgeon, who had appointed on that day to loosen the splints, and examine the progress of the fractured limb towards soundness. The result of the examination was most satisfactory. The surgeon expressed himself perfectly astonished. " I kn'ownot," said he, " whether this young lady is naturally blessed with an unusual degree of firm- 132 EARLY FRIENDSHIPS. ness and tranquillity of spirit, or whether she is in- debted to the instructions and discipline of her present excellent governess, or of some earlier pre- ceptress, for her high attainments in the diffi- cult art of self-government; but assuredly to that, under the blessing of God, is mainly to be ascribed the extraordinary rapidity of the cure. I never saw anything progress so favourably. At the present time, I have under my care a patient equally healthy, who met with a somewhat similar accident about a fortnight before Miss Armstrong's. The case was, in itself, less serious than this. To all human appearance he was likely to be well first ; but, on the contrary, he is at least a month back- ward, owing, I firmly believe, to no other cause than his own irritable, impatient, and self-willed temper." From this time Marianne was permitted to sit up in bed. Nothing but experience can give an adequate idea of the sensation of actual pleasure attendant on change of position, after long restric- tion from that privilege. On experiencing it, Ma- rianne's heart overflowed with joy and gratitude. Her first use of an erect position was to read the hundred-and-third Psalm, which fully expressed the feelings of her mind. In an entirely recumbent posture, it is almost impossible to read continu- ously. Hitherto, though Marianne had been sur- rounded with books, she could do no more than glance for a minute or two over a few lines. It was delightful to her to find herself able to hold a book right before, and read page after page at Dleasure ; and then, too, she could at pleasure vary EARLY FRIENDSHIPS. 133 her employment by needlework or knitting. She felt assured that she should be at no loss for amusement in solitude, and her mind was fully made up, that it would be quite unnecessary for any of her friends to disarrange their plans on her account. She spoke with composure of the time when Mrs. Gilbert and Helen should leave her of the manner in which she should employ herself during their absence and of the pleasure with which she should welcome their return. Helen said very little in reply to these proposals, but rather endeavoured to waive the subject, and direct the attention of her friend to something else. The next morning, when Helen, as usual, joined Mrs. Gilbert at the breakfast-table, " My dear girl," said Mrs. Gilbert, "is it possible that you have requested the permission of your parents to remain here during the vacation?" " Yes, ma'am: I did say to my mamma, that if they would allow me to remain, and if I could be of any service to Miss Armstrong, I should like to remain; and I begged mamma, if she thought proper, to propose it to you. Pray, ma'am, have you heard from my parents?" " Yes, my dear I have just received a letter." " Are they all well at home, ma'am?" "Yes; and desire to be very affectionately remembered to you." " May I ask, ma'am, if papa and mamma are willing for me to stay ?" " They leave the matter entirely in your own 134 EARLY FRIENDSHIPS. hands, and wish you to decide for yourself. It will, of course, be a great privation to your dear parents, and a great disappointment to the younger members of the family, not to see you at home, as they had anticipated; but your motive in making *he proposal is appreciated and honoured: and if, on mature deliberation, you resolve to make the sacrifice, your papa and mamma wish me to ex- press to you their consent that you should do so. Perhaps, as Miss Armstrong is likely to have some one from home to attend her, you will not now consider it necessary." " Perhaps, ma'am, not altogether necessary : but Miss Armstrong thinks the servant cannot be spared without inconvenience : besides, I think she requires a companion still more than a nurse." " Yes, my dear ; nothing, I am persuaded, could conduce more to her comfort than your remaining with her ; but it really is too great a sacrifice for you to make." " No, ma'am if it can be of any use, I ought to be willing to do it; Miss Armstrong has done many kindnesses for me, and, if I were suffering as she is, she would do still more. If I were only to stay with her the time that you are absent, it might be of some use, and then it would be only a small sacrifice, to be at home a fortnight instead of five weeks." " Your mamma mentions that idea of yours, but thinks, that for so short a time it would not be worth the expense and hazard of a journey, at this unfavourable season of the year. They therefore EARLY FRIENDSHIPS. 135 wish you to decide either upon going home, as usual, or remaining at school the whole of the vaca- tion. It is not absolutely necessary to reply by return of post you had better take a day to con- sider of it." " If you please, ma'am, I should prefer its being settled at once. If you, ma'am, and my dear parents, will allow me to stay, and Miss Armstrong will accept my company, my mind is quite made up." " Well, love, I hope you will never regret your generous decision." Helen was not the first to announce to her friend the sacrifice she had resolved upon, for her comfort. Mrs. Gilbert communicated it to Mari- anne, and allowed herself to speak of that particu- lar action, and of Helen's disposition and conduct in general, more freely than she would have judged it safe to do in her presence. On Miss Armstrong hesitating to accept the kindness which she could not but acknowledge would be most acceptable, but which she saw must involve a great sacrifice both to Helen and her family, Mrs. Gilbert replied " Yes, it must indeed be a sacrifice for the parents to forego a meeting with such an amiable generous, and high-principled child, and a sacri- fice to her to relinquish the prospect of a happy month with so affectionate a family; but both parties are prepared cheerfully and voluntarily to yield it; Helen, from the simple preference of benevolent usefulness to personal gratification; and her parents, from generous and exalted plea- 136 EARLY FRIENDSHIPS. sure in possessing a child capable of spontaneously devising such an act of disinterested kindness. Dear child ! with her to say, ' I think I can be useful/ seems perfectly synonymous with saying, 'I know I can be happy.'- The same impulse that prompts young people in general to seek their own gratification, impels her to look round for some opportunity of serving others; and all is done with such sweet simplicity such a perfect freedom from anything like effort, self-consequence, or display, as enhances the action and exalts the character. Without partiality, I really look upon Helen Somers as a gem among my pupils ; and, should I be spared to see the development of her character in future life, I have no doubt it will be with feelings of exultation in having been honoured with the charge of her education and yet, but a very small portion of the honour would be due to me. Helen's character was formed before she came to school. Her mother, whom I have never seen, must, I am sure, be a most excellent and judicious woman. Oh, Marianne, to you I may say for you know that the remark cannot be personal my spirits are often depressed, and my energies wasted, by the vain effort radically to improve a girl whose early years have been passed with an empty, frivolous, capricious, pleasure-loving mo- ther. We sometimes read stories of the children of foolish and unprincipled parents proving models of wisdom and excellence ; but, in real life, I be- lieve it has never occurred, that such habits and such a character as those of Helen Somers, have EARLY FRIENDSHIPS. 137 been, or could have been formed, tinder the tuition and example of an inferior or of an ordinary mother." The entrance of the dear girl in question put an end to the conversation. An affectionate grasp of the hand from Marianne, while the tears stood in her eyes, told Helen that her offer had been com- municated, and that it was accepted. Little more was said about it; but Helen's first use of her writing-desk was to inform her parents of her de- termination, with their permission, to remain the holidays. The sheet was then handed over to Mrs. Gilbert, who wished to add a few lines ; and Helen wrote a letter of thanks for the handsome present she had received. The same time was employed by Marianne in pencilling a few lines to her aunts, informing them of Helen's kind engage- ment, and declining their offer of sending Sutton. The matter was now thoroughly settled and under- stood by all parties, and all anxiety on the subject was dismissed. A still warmer pressure of the hand, and a yet more tender kiss than heretofore, expressed Marianne's consciousness of a new claim on he"r gratitude ; and Helen pursued her several engagements, both in the school-room and in the sick chamber, just as contentedly as if she had never entertained a thought of going home. A few days later, so decided and rapid an im- provement had taken place in the adherence of the fractured limb, that it was considered safe to re- move the patient to a sofa placed beside the bed, and then drawn to another part of the room. This movement was borne so well, and proved so in- N2 138 EARLY FRIENDSHIPS. vigorating in its results, that hopes were encou- raged of Marianne being ahle, in less than a month, to bear the journey, if the weather should prove favourable, to the residence of her aunts. This cheering intelligence soon followed the announcement of Helen's intention to remain as Marianne's companion through the vacation. It was joyfully received by the ladies, and an earnest invitation quickly sent for Helen to ac- company her. To this her parents gave their consent; and, early in January, the weather being unusually clear and mild for the season, the carriage of the Misses Armstrong, fitted up with every convenience for repose, was sent to convey their niece and her friend, with Sutton to attend them on their journey. They were received with a most cordial and joyful welcome, and Helen spent nearly three weeks, much to her satisfaction and improvement, in the society of the excellent and accomplished proprietors of Fairfield Lodge. Home, however, was not forgotten. Many a fond recollection and conjecture passed through the mind of Helen, daily, as to the growth of the little ones, and the probable pursuits and engage- ments of every individual of that beloved circle. To each she wrote a letter of affectionate remem- brance, with some suitable present of her own workmanship, entreating the elder branches of the family not to let the younger forget that they had a sister Helen, and anticipating, with lively de- light, a happy meeting at Midsummer, after their long, long separation. EARLY FRIENDSHIPS. 139 With true parental vigilance over their daugh- ter's best interests, Mr. and M/s. Somers had con- versed together on the danger to which Helen might be exposed, by being thrown into a class of society and a style of living above that to which she was accustomed. Is she likely to be injured by it? Will she be flattered by the expressions of approbation she receives? Will she imbibe lofty notions, and expensive tastes ? Will she be- come dissatisfied with the humble pleasures of home ? Will she sigh after indulgences which we cannot, or do not think proper to afford her? or will the principles we have endeavoured to instil into her mind exert sufficient influence to enable her to bear with equabililty the gratification of a temporary change, and to return with uninjured feelings and habits to her wonted pursuits and circumstances?" Many such inquiries were prompted by parental solicitude, and many a fer- vent prayer ascended, that their beloved child might be kept in the way in which she should go, improved by all surrounding circumstances, and injured by none, and, in due time, brought again to her father's house in peace. Should it be asked whether Helen's parents did not admonish her of the dangers to which they thought she might be exposed, it must be replied, that they did not. Before they consented to her making the visit, they were fully satisfied of the character of the parties who invited her. They apprehended no danger from the examples with which she should come in contact, but quite the 140 EARLY FRIENDSHIPS. reverse. It was not a temptation (in the worst sense of the word) to which she was exposed, but a trial a miniature trial of character, by a little variety of outward circumstances, which would be carried on, on a larger scale, in all the vicissitudes of future life. They therefore thought it better to leave her to think and act for herself, and try the strength and adaptation of her principles. Pa- rental restraint, in this or that particular instance,, does not necessarily impart wisdom and caution for the guidance of future life. It is like the lead- ing-strings formerly employed in teaching children to walk : while the nurse held them with a tight hand, they might prevent a tumble, but they did nothing towards correcting that heedlessness and self-will by which, when the restraint was removed, the child was exposed to serious, perhaps fatal in- jury. A child who had thus learnt to walk, if the nurse's eye was averted, would heedlessly run to the edge of a flight of stairs, and precipitate itself to the bottom. The wise mother now places her little one on the carpet removes from its reach everything really dangerous watches and encou- rages its efforts to raise itself by some solid sub- stance, and its attempts to investigate the proper- ties of the different objects by which it is sur- rounded. By this method the child is every day acquiring skill, experience, courage, and caution. It will not venture upon what it does not under- stand, but will advance with firmness, just as far as it knows its own capabilities and the nature of its path. Instead of depending on the nurse's care EARLY FRIENDSHIPS. 141 to preserve it from falling down stairs, it will set itself to learn how to go up and down with ease and safety. The early inculcation of sound and judicious principles, and the formation of a habit of applying those principles to the little round of circumstances and experience in infant life, im- parts a similar kind of moral firmness, prompti- tude, and discretion. The child is accustomed to look at the circumstances that surround his path, and consider where he ought to step, and then steps with firmness, and proceeds with vigour. As Helen's parents were conversing about her, her youngest brother, just able to run alone, threw his straw ball between the chair and the wall. His father was rising to reach it for him. " Stop !" said the mother, " let him find out for himself how to push away the chair, and get behind to reach the ball." The little one paused a moment, then put forth all his skill and strength, effected the movement, brought out the ball, and placed it on his mother's lap, with a crow of joy and triumph. " I see, my dear," said the delighted father, " of how much real pleasure and improvement I should have deprived the boy, if I had made myself his picking-up machine; and I suppose you wish to act in a similar manner by Helen. While we maintain sufficient watchfulness over her to assure ourselves that she does not run into real danger, it is better that she should learn to think and act for herself, and apply principles to circumstances, than that all her safety should consist in doing as we bid her, from thing to thing." 142 EARLY FRIENDSHIPS. The communications received from Helen, almost immediately after this conversation, convinced her parents that their judgment in this particular was not incorrect, nor their confidence misplaced. Helen wrote not as one elated with pleasure and advance- ment, but in her sober, thoughtful, affectionate style. She spoke not of the elegance of the man- sion, furniture, and equipage the number of the servants, or the flattering attentions paid to herself but of the amiable manners and improving con- versation of the ladies of their excellent library, their benevolent engagements, and the admirable regulations of their family of the progress of Miss Armstrong towards recovery of the good accounts received of Mips Millman and her cousins of the prospect of returning to her duties at school and the delightful, though distant prospect, of re- visiting home for the summer vacation. It was evident that Helen was satisfied and happy, not because she was on a visit to people in compara- tively high life, but because she was among the excellent of the earth, and in the way of her duty, and that home was still to her the dearest, love- liest, spot on earth. Happy pledge ! this charac- ter at least is not deteriorating. It happened, very shortly after this, that Mr. Somers had an opportunity of confirming, by per- sonal observation, the pleasing sentiments arising out of Helen's communication. He was unex- pectedly called to London on business, and, father like, travelled all night, and despatched his busi- ness as quickly as possible, that he might be ei EARLY FRIENDSHIPS. 143 abled to indulge himself with a transient peep at his child. His arrival at Fairfield was altogether unexpected, and he found at home only the inva- lid aunt and her invalid niece. Helen was gone with Miss Lucy Armstrong, on one of her tours of benevolence, and they were not expected to return for an hour or more. Mr. Somers's stay was limited to two hours, as he had to return to London, and take his place in the mail. He was received with unfeigned cordiality, and the first hour was pleasingly occupied in hearing the grateful and yet judicious commendations of his daughter, in which both the elder and the younger lady united. It was not the language of adulation, but the sober approbation of real goodness the ac- knowledgment of services really valuable and the affectionate desire to cherish and to witness progressive improvement. The father was not dis- tressed and alarmed by hearing his daughter spo- ken of as a perfect angel; but was delighted to find that she had established for herself the cha- racter of an amiable, well-principled, promising girl. The ladies were seated, or rather recumbent, in the library. That room was occupied as the family living room, on account of its being adja- cent to Marianne's bed-chamber: for, although she was now able, with the assistance of crutches, to move a little on level ground, she could not yet encounter the stairs. A good library and a mutual friend furnish, even to personal strangers, if in- telligent and polite, ample matter of agreeable con- versation for a longer time than that which elapsed 144 EARLY FRIENDSHIPS. before the carriage was heard coming up the avenue ; and, almost in an instant, Helen was in her father's arms. " Dear papa!" she exclaimed, " is anything the matter? Mamma and the children are they all well?" " Yes, simpleton; if they were otherwise, do you think I should have left home to come and tell you?" " You must, dear sir," said Miss Rachel Arm- strong "excuse a little perturbation at so unexpected a meeting, and a temporary suspension of Helen's sober powers of calculation; and now, while my young friend recovers herself, allow me to avail myself of the privilege of prior acquaintance, and introduce to you my sister Miss Lucy Armstrong Mr. Somers. I regret to say, my dear sister, that unless we can devise some plan to induce Mr. Somers to forego his intention of returning to town, a very short opportunity is afforded you for cultivating the acquaintance so agreeably com- menced. 1 have, therefore, ordered dinner im- mediately." A very few words between the two ladies, and a reference to the county map, suggested and con- firmed the idea that the mail passed within five miles of Fairfield, and that, by conveying Mr. So- mers across, his return to London would be ren- dered needless, and his company might be enjoyed by the little society there, for three hours longer than had been calculated on. A carriage and ser- vant were ordered to be in readiness at the proper EARLY FRIENDSHIPS. 145 time, and Mr. Somers having no positive occasion to return to town, consented to remain. The hours passed with delightful rapidity, yet left on the minds of all the party traces of real interest and settled esteem. The evening was moonlight, and Helen accompanied her father in the carriage, to meet the mail. " Dear papa," said she, as she parted with him, " give my dearest love to mamma, and Anna, and Rosa, and all of them, and tell them that, now T have seen you, and heard all about them, I am quite satisfied. It has made up for all the disap- pointment of not going home I mean, together with the kindness of the Misses Armstrong, and the pleasure of having been useful to Marianne; but I hope, if my life is spared, to come at Mid- summer and see them all. I am very happy in my visit, but home is home." " Yes," rejoined her father, " be it ever so homely. Retain your love of home, and then you will not be injured by going abroad. Farewell, my precious child. May Heaven still bless and preserve you!" Helen's solitary ride in returning to Fairfield was occupied in tender recollections and anticipa- tions, and in fervent prayers for the preservation of her beloved father on his journey. The placid, yet somewhat pensive expression of countenance with which she joined the evening party in the library, was observed and honoured, and met with delicate sympathy. There was no jesting accusation of M6 EARLY FRIENDS HITS " home sickness," or " father sickness," by which the best feelings of childhood are often blunted, and a false shame is excited, which connects an idea of disgrace with that of filial tenderness ; on the con- trary, such a direction was intentionally, yet im- perceptibly, given to the conversation, as would at once soothe and cherish the feelings which had been excited by the unexpected visit; and Helen retired to her chamber more than ever tenderly attached to her own family, and more highly ad- miring and esteeming that in which she was visiting. The vacation was drawing to its close. Mari- anne, of course, was not to return to Holly Grove for the present: and, as her father was expected to return to England in the course of the year, it was probable she would not return at all. It was under discussion whether Helen should be con- ducted to London to meet the teacher and go down with her, or whether she should be sent across in the carriage, as Miss Armstrong had usually been. The pupils were to meet at Holly Grove on the following Tuesday, when Marianne received a letter from her friend, Miss Jennings, saying, that the head of their establishment, having returned rather earlier than was expected, had offered her a few days of recreation ; that, in consequence, her time was at her own disposal till the Thursday following. She had just called on Miss Millman, whom she found perfectly restored to health, and pleasing herself with the hope, before her return to school, of spending a day with Miss Armstrong, EARLY FRIENDSHIPS. 1-iJ her father having engaged, if business permitted, to drive her down on Saturday, and back on Monday morning. He had kindly offered Sophia a seat in the chaise, which she proposed accepting, if there were no circumstance that would render the visit inconvenient to the family at Fairfield. This intimation was received on Friday, and an answer promptly returned, falling in with the de- sign, but requesting Mr. Millman to come prepared to take leave of his daughter at Fairfield the Misses Armstrong offering the use of their carriage to convey Helen and Catharine to school, with Sophia to accompany them, spend one night with her aunt, and return to Fairfield in the carriage on Wednesday. 1 This happy arrangement afforded the young people an agreeable interview, and crowned the pleasure of the holidays. Thus Sophia and Helen were introduced to each other's acquaintance. Catharine and Marianne had an opportunity of conversing together about their recent afflictions, and the mercy displayed in their restoration to health ; and all combined in suggesting ideas, and establishing purposes of personal and mutual im- provement, and maintaining friendly intercourse in future. Helen took leave of her hospitable friends at the Lodge, with feelings of lively grati- tude and affection, and received, nothing loth, the assurance that a repetition of her visit, when her parents could spare her, would be cordially welcome. 148 EARLY FRIENDSHIPS. " We must not expect you next summer," said Miss Lucy, " for home will unquestionably have the first claim, and the first attraction ; hut, if our lives are spared, we should like you to come in a season favourable to your enjr*vment of the garden and country when we may hope that my dear sister will he able to venture abroad with you, and dear Marianne will move about as actively as yourself." The invalids each sighed, as if they thought it was too much to hope for, but concurred in say- ing, that, whether in winter or summer, Helen would always be a welcome visitor, to share their pleasures, or to soothe and enliven their confine- ment. The carriage party arrived at Holly Grove an hour or two earlier than the stage-coach, The sight of her niece was as unexpected a pleasure to Mrs. Gilbert as that of her father had been to Helen; and, before the bustle of the arrival of the teacher with her numerous party, a quiet oppor- tunity was afforded to the select few, who took tea with Mrs. Gilbert, to answer all her kind inquiries about the health of Miss Armstrong, and the Misses Lloyd, and the several circles and pursuits in which her young friends had been engaged during the vacation. Mrs. Gilbert herself had been visit- ing among the families of her former pupils two of whom were recently married, and others were already surrounded with interesting little families, and shedding over them the benign influence EARLY 1'lUENDSIlirS. 149 which can be diffused in the domestic circle, only by a well- principled and well-educated mother. A visit to such scenes is one of the sweetest plea- sures that a faithful and diligent instructress of youth can enjoy. It requites her past assiduities on behalf of the individuals whom she thus beholds fitted to adorn and bless the domestic and social circle, and it stimulates and encourages her with unwearied zeal to pursue her labour of love on behalf of her present charge to " be steadfast and unmoveable, always abounding in the work of the Lord; forasmuch as she knows that her la- bour is not in vain in the Lord." With peculiar complacency Mrs. Gilbert looked around on the three buds of promise now before her ; for in each she beheld decided evidence of sterling worth of character, which is the best preparative for, and the surest prognostic of, growing excellence and usefulness. It was with no small satisfaction the young people heard that no alteration in the arrangement of their bed-rooms was to take place at present. Miss Armstrong possibly might return for a short time in spring ; the room, therefore, was to be left undisturbed to Catharine, for the present, unless some unusual press of inmates should render it necessary for some one temporarily to share it; and the Misses Lloyd were again to be placed with Helen. Each congratulated herself on not being compelled to receive a new associate. When the stage-coach party arrived, after the o2 150 EARLY FRIENDSHIPS. first salutations, while they were taking tea, Helen and Catharine withdrew, to dispose of their own packages and those of the Misses Lloyd. It was then that Helen observed a small deal case with her direction. On opening it, it was found to contain a neat set of portable book-shelves, and about a dozen volumes, handsomely bound, con- taining the works of Milton, Young, Thomson, Cowper, Montgomery, and some other select poets, accompanied by a note, requesting her ac- ceptance of them, as a memorial of grateful and affectionate friendship, with an earnest desire that it might be perpetuated through life signed Marianne Armstrong. It will be supposed that this fresh and valuable token of friendship was not received with insensibility, but that Sophia was the bearer, on her return the next day, of a few simple lines, expressive of Helen's genuine feelings of gratitude and pleasure, and her hope of deriving real improvement from this valuable ac- cession to her library. Another day or two brought in most of the remain- ing stragglers to the school, and, by the close of the week, all had settled down into their regular order. Among all Mrs. Gilbert's pupils, none were more assiduous and persevering than Helen and Catharine, and their progress was proportion- ably satisfactory. Meanwhile, by mutual assist- ance in their studies, and by intercourse with their common friends, their feelings and interests were becoming more and more intertwined and EARLY FRIENDSHIPS. 151 identified. Their souls were knit together as the souls of David and Jonathan in Scripture. Time rolled on. The summer vacation arrived, and Helen with delight revisited her paternal home, and was received with correspondent delight by all the dear ones there. Catharine spent a part of the vacation with her aunt at Chesterfield. During her visit there, she was invited by Mr. and Mrs. Somers to spend a few days with Helen ; and, at the close of the vacation, Helen was con- veyed to Chesterfield, and thence the friends pro- ceeded together on their return to school. The Lloyds again passed the holidays at school. Miss Armstrong, now entirely restored to health and soundness, was travelling with her father, with a view of selecting a spot for their country resi- dence. Passing near Holly Grove, on their return to London, Mr. Armstrong yielded to the wish of his daughter to remain a few days in the neighbourhood, to visit her much esteemed pre- ceptress, and her beloved young friends. Sophia Jennings was now settled with her aunt as an assistant in the labours of the school. Marianne's visit, therefore, brought the four young people again into contact, and renewed and strengthened their attachment. The young sisters, Maria and Fanny Lloyd, were not excluded from the circle of friendship. Their grateful, affectionate, and unassuming dispositions, rendered them very ami- ble; and their docility and diligence had pro- gressed in a measure highly creditable to them- 152 EARLY FRIENDSHIPS. selves, and surpassing that of some of their fellow- pupils of longer standing and brighter natural abilities. Marianne, Catharine, and Helen, had all contributed to their advancement in learning, and, of course, took a lively pleasure in it ; and, for their sakes, as well as the innate disposition of the good, to approve and advance merit, Miss Jen- nings, now a young lady of the first attainments in female accomplishments, took extraordinary pains in assisting the progress of the little Welch girls, who were intended, like herself, to be trained to the work of education. So well had they im- proved their advantages, that when the eldest was not more than ten years old, Mrs. Gilbert admit- ted them both on the footing of articled pupils, and found them capable of greater degrees of use- fulness, both in domestic activity, and in imparting the rudiments of knowledge, than some whom she had received in the same capacity at thirteen or fourteen years of age. Poor Louisa Ellis, though several years older, was very far behind them, and was often glad to avail herself of their assistance in getting through a difficulty. Poor girl ! while she regarded her lessons as difficulties to be got through, instead of steps in the acquisition of valu- able and delightful knowledge, there was little reason to expect that she would improve ; and in that false sentiment she was fostered by her treacherous friend, Charlotte Harrington, who, whenever it suited her interest to do so, again professed great kindness for Louisa sometimes EARLY FRIENDSHIPS. 153 assisting her herself, and sometimes referring hei to the industrious little Lloyds, scornfully observ- ing, " They must apply to learning, for they have to get their living by it ; but you, without fagging yourself to death, will have quite accomplishments enough for a lady." How little do young people know of their fu- ture destination in life, and how extreme is the folly of neglecting opportunities of improve- ment, under the idea that wealth, rank, finery, or gay connexions, can form any substitute for the resources of a well-cultivated mind, and an apti- tude for pursuits of usefulness ! When Louisa was about fourteen years of age, her mother died sud- denly. She had a handsome annuity for life, but her gay and expensive habits had more than con- sumed* it. She had accustomed herself to rely on her wealthy brother to assist her with costly pre- sents ; and, if ever she thought of the possibility of her death, she flattered herself that Louisa would be taken care of by her uncle. But when that event actually took place, the uncle was married, and had to support a gay lady, and an expensive establishment of his own, and was little disposed to take the additional burden of a niece. His lady suggested that Louisa was old enough, and, as she had been several years a pupil of Mrs. Gil- bert's, she was, no doubt, accomplished enough, to take a situation as teacher in a school. With heartfelt regret Mrs. Gilbert was constrained to express her real opinion, that the young lady had 154 EARLY FRIENDSHIPS. been so extremely negligent in self-improvement, as to render her wholly incompetent to attempt the task of instructing others, even on the very lowest scale. The poor girl appeared in some measure roused to a sense of her situation ; and, through the intercession of Mrs. Gilbert, her uncle consented to her remaining in the school one year longer. The period was afterwards extended to two years. This change in outward circumstances seemed to be the turning-point in Louisa's character. With diligence unknown before, she set herself, as much as possible, to make up for past neglects, and to improve present advantages. Those friends, whose kindness she had formerly forfeited, were still dis- posed to assist and encourage her; and, at the expiration of the two years, she was qualified to take a respectable, though subordinate station in a school, to which she was recommended by Mrs. Gilbert. About the time that Louisa lost her mother, Charlotte Harrington was removed from the school. She had, more than once, been detected in artful dis- obedience to the rules of the house : at length, such a course of deception came to light, connected with the Misses Gray, whom she had both imposed upon and corrupted, that Mrs. Gilbert was compelled to request her friends to remove her. Her removal was a great blessing to the younger pupils, especially to those whose injudicious supply of pocket-money, and other indulgences, rendered them a fit prey for the selfish and designing. EARLY FRIENDSHIPS. 155 In the several vacations that occurred while Helen and Catharine remained with Mrs. Gilbert, there was generally some plan for a meeting of the friends to take place, for a few days at least, at one or other of their homes. Once the visit was to Hampshire, the country residence of Mr. Armstrong and his daughter, where, also, the elder Misses Armstrong were spending the summer ; once a few days were spent in London Helen's first visit to the great metropolis ; and, a second time, Catharine, Helen, and the two Lloyds met in Derbyshire. Catharine left school half a year earlier than Helen, and entered on the arduous task of educat- ing her younger sisters, and becoming the domes- tic manager and associate of her widowed father and her brothers. This important station she filled with uncommon dignity, propriety, and success. The character of a sister an elder sis- ter is at all times highly important in its influ- ence on the family in general ; pre-eminently so, when she becomes the substitute of a departed mother. Catharine entered on her duties with a deep sense of her responsibility, with a con- sciousness of her own weakness and inability to discharge them aright, and with humble yet firm reliance on the strength of divine grace, which is promised to the sincere Christian, in a measure adequate to every duty and every need. Thus was she enabled to be faithful to her trust. She became the centre of enjoyment in the family cir- 156 EARLY FRIENDSHIPS. cle the solace of her father the ministering spi- rit of her brothers the instructress and exem- plar of her sisters and the admiration of her friends. Six months later, Helen left school, and, after the vacation, her place was filled by a younger sister three of whom, in succession, experienced from the Misses Lloyd similar protection, kind- ness, and assistance, to that which they had for- merly received from Helen; whose kindness to comparative strangers was thus requited to those most dear to her. Not long after Helen's removal from school, she received a pressing invitation to attend the mar- riage of her friend Miss Armstrong. It was to take place in London ; and it was the particular wish of the bride elect, on that occasion to enjoy the company of her three young friends, Sophia, Catharine, and Helen. It was much to the honour of these three young persons, that each was of so much importance in her several sphere, that there was some difficulty in making arrangements for sparing her. As, however, all who laid claim to the services of the young people were fully dis- posed to meet their wishes, and grant them the indulgence they so well deserved, by good con- trivance the matter was adjusted. Mrs. Somers, who had lately been confined, detained her nurse to assist her in the care of the younger children during Helen's absence, and engaged a young person in the neighbourhood, on whose principles EARLY FRIENDSHIPS. 157 she could rely, to fill Helen's place in needlework and instructing the elder children ; for she was not yet strong enough to bear that fatigue. Helen went up a week before the wedding, to assist her friend in the preparations. As it was in the midst of the school session, Sophia could only be spared for the important day. She went up the day previous, taking with her Maria Lloyd, whom Mrs. Gilbert kindly spared to take Catharine's place with her sisters, and returned the next after- noon. After the ceremony, the new married pair, ac- companied by Catharine and Helen, set off on a tour of the lakes in Westmoreland and Cumber- land the elder Misses Armstrong remaining in town to superintend the necessary preparations in the house of Mr. and Mrs. Grenville, against their return. The weather proved favourable, all cir- cumstances propitious, and the happy party en- joyed a delightful tour expanding their minds and gratifying their taste by contemplating the beauties and wonders of creation, with a relish heightened by the accompanying sweets of friend- ship, love, and intellectual society. On their re- turn, the party visited Matlock, the Peak, and other attractions of Derbyshire, and then left Helen at home. Catharine accompanied her friends to London, and remained a short time with the bride, during the ceremony of receiving visits it need scarcely be said, taking frequent oppor- tunities of looking after the welfare of her own 158 EARLY FRIENDSHIPS. proper charge at home, which she found going on satisfactorily, under the care of a faithful and affectionate young deputy. Within a fortnight of their return to town, Mr. and Mrs. Grenville repaired to their country re- sidence in Hampshire, where they intended prin- cipally to reside, both on account of their decided preference for the country, and of the vicinage of Marianne's honoured father, to whose comfort the society of his darling and only child was every day becoming more and more indispensable. Mr. Armstrong's health was much enfeebled by re- sidence in a warm climate. He was, however, spared several years to witness the happiness of his daughter, and to see her surrounded by a lovely group of little ones. The views of Mr. and Mrs. Grenville, on the management and education of children, were not precisely on a level with those of the generality of parents. They attached a vast, but not undue importance, to the very earliest training, and the most minute circumstances bearing upon the tem- pers and habits of children. They entered on the parental relation with a firm conviction of the ab- solute and untransferable duty of constant parental attention and direction to their charge, and re- solved to depend as little as possible on the assist- ance of others in the nursery, and to secure, in what assistance they did employ, co-operation with, and subserviency to, their own views and principles. The circumstances of Mr. and Mrs. EARLY FRIENDSHIPS. 159 Grenville certainly put it in their power, as far as the command of time and pecuniary resources were concerned, to make and execute their own ar- rangements. Perhaps parents in circumstances much less favourable might do more than they generally do. The ignorant helplessness of some young mothers often exposes them and their in- fant treasures to the mischievous dominion and superstitious quackery of uneducated and often unprincipled nurses ; and, too often, the mother's thirst after company and pleasure, incompatible with personal attendance on the care of her off- spring, leads her to devolve upon hirelings that trust which can only be properly executed by herself. To guard against these evils, Mrs. Gren- ville conscientiously and assiduously set herself to acquire such a knowledge of the duties of a mo- ther, and the principles of judicious management of children, as should render her competent, from the very first, to maintain her just supremacy as to what was to be done for her child. She re- solved also entirely to devote herself to the impor- tant charge, and to suffer no engagement of com- pany, or any other pursuit, to interfere with the personal discharge of her maternal duties. She determined that her child should be always in her presence, and almost always in her arms during its infancy, and under her tuition, as it became capable of being taught. Some assistance she probably would require, but she wanted neither an ignorant drudge, nor an upstart, conceited nurse. 160 EARLY FRIENDSHIPS. She wanted some one who could enter into her views, and assist her in carrying out her plans. " The education of a child," said Mr. Grenville, " is necessarily coeval with its birth. How pre- posterous, then, is it to commit the first three, four, or five years to the keeping of ignorance and prejudice, and then seek for an enlightened and well-educated governess to try her skill first, in eradicating the mischiefs of the former system, and then, to begin again the work which ought to have been progressing from the very birth of the child ! No if a governess is to do any good, let her begin when education begins. We will engage a well-educated young person to be your assistant, my dear Marianne, from the birth of an expected^ little one; and she who would despise the work ^ of training a rational and immortal creature, from its earliest existence, proves that she is unfit to undertake the work of education at any age." Maria Lloyd's term with Mrs. Gilbert was on the eve of expiring; and, from her own former observations, and the testimony of those who had been with her subsequently, Mrs. Grenville thought of her as a suitable person to assist her in the care of her tender charge. She gladly ac- cepted the situation, and found herself happy with a comfortable home, a liberal salary, cultivated society, cordial and delicate kindness, and abun- dant opportunities for keeping up and improving her own acquirements, with a view to their future employment. She entered upon her work with EARLY FRIENDSHIPS. 161 spirit, and found it no ignoble task. By watching and training the propensities of her infant charge, she found that she was qualifying herself to im- part, and it to receive, knowledge of every kind, as the mind and faculties should expand. Mrs. Grenville and her young assistant entirely nursed a family of seven children formed the habits of the boys, and imparted to them the rudiments of learning, and carried on the education of the girls it need scarcely be added, much to their physical, intellectual, and moral advantage. After living many years in the family of Mr. Grenville, Miss Lloyd became the invaluable wife of a widower with a young family a relation in which she has done all that woman could do, to secure and cement to herself the affections of a grateful family, and to pour contempt on the vul- gar prejudice against step-mothers. Her sister Fanny, on the completion of her pupilage, re- mained with Mrs. Gilbert as an assistant, and proved herself so truly estimable and efficient, that when that lady retired from her arduous and honourable toils, the name of Miss Lloyd was associated with that of Miss Jennings, as successors tj Mrs. Gilbert. Under their superintendence the establishment continues to merit and to receive a large measure of public confidence and support,, and has sent forth many well-principled and well- ecmcated young females, fitted to fill their various stations in life in an honourable, acceptable, and useful manner. The attachment of the young * p2 162 EARLY FRIENDSHIPS. governesses and their early friends has proved steady and abiding, as well as ardent and sincere. An affectionate intercourse is constantly kept up ; every opportunity of promoting each other's in- terest is gladly embraced, and an alternate claim is laid by the distant friends, for a visit in each vacation. There has, however, been one valued link broken from the circle of friendship, not by inconstancy or alienation, but by death. The lovely Catharine, at the age of twenty-four, fell a victim to the insi- dious disease that had deprived her of her beloved mother. Catharine was universally admired, for the beauty of her person and the elegance of her manners. She was deservedly the darling of her family, for those sterling, quiet virtues which most adorn and bless the fireside circle. She had long been the sweet soother of her father's pensive hours, and the sharer of his anxieties, which, at one time, were very heavy, on account of losses in business, and depression in circumstances, which speedily followed on the loss of his beloved part- ner. These she had assisted him in bearing, and had seen him happily surmount. The smiles of Hea- ven had again crowned his endeavours. His circum- stances were become easy and prosperous, and the prospects of his family hopeful. Satisfied with a sufficiency, Mr. Millman was not disposed eagerly to grasp after the accumulation of wealth ; but, hav- ing secured a moderate provision for each of his children, he resolved to retire, hoping to spend the EARLY FRIENDSHIPS. 163 evening of his days in domestic repose and bene- volent usefulness. His eldest son, a highly talented and excellent young man, in connexion with his cousin, Lewis Hollingsby, was established in an extensive line, in one of the great manufac- turing districts, where talent, industry, and enter- prise, combined with propriety of deportment, rarely fail of success. Hollingsby and Millman, though young men, had already attained eminence in their profession, for the correctness, elegance, and appropriateness of their plans and designs, and for their promptness and punctuality in trans- acting business. The young men had erected a neat and elegant structure, consisting of offices in the centre, and each wing a commodious dwelling- house, which they hoped respectively to occupy, in conjunction with a beloved female partner. One peculiarly cherished feature in the contem- plated connexion was, that they were to bring together, as sisters and neighbours, the cherished friends of youth. Helen Somers was the intended bride of Alfred Millman, and Catharine of her cousin Lewis Hollingsby. It was during the removal of Mr. Millman and his family to their country retreat, that Catharine first awakened the anxieties of her tender father, by a little tickling cough. But it was supposed to be the result of a slight cold and fatigue, and passed over without any great alarm. The removal of the family to their new abode took place early in the spring. As soon as they were settled, Ca- 16'4 EARLY FRIENDSHIPS. tharine, while carrying on the little preparations for her own intended change, was careful to see her succeeding sister gradually initiated into the entire charge of housekeeping, as she already was in most of its details. The country air and advancing spring, which was a peculiarly favourable one, seemed to pro- duce a beneficial effect on Catharine's health. The cough nearly disappeared, and her appetite, which had been failing, returned. The hope was fondly cherished by her affectionate friends, that the cause of her indisposition had been but casual and superficial, and was entirely removed, and that she would be long spared to bless the new connexion on which she was about to enter. Still there was a drawback on the confidence of this expectation, especially in the minds of those friends who, being somewhat farther removed from immediate contact with the object, could observe with a less impassioned eye, and form a more accurate, though less flattering judgment. Among these, especially, were the Misses Armstrong, in whose neighbourhood Catharine and her family were come to reside. They observed about her a degree of languor, interchanged with occasional excitement, a flushed cheek, and a brilliant eye, that seemed to mark her the lovely victim of con- sumption. An eminent physician was consulted. He confessed that he saw grounds for apprehen- sion, but yet encouraged a hope that the incipient disease might be arrested in its progress, and, EARXY FRIENDSHIPS. 165 perhaps, together with exercise and medicine, al- together averted. He recommended travelling and cheerful society. The Misses Armstrong were fcbout to visit their brother and niece in Hamp- shire, and invited Catharine to accompany them. No prescription could possibly have been more congenial with the feelings of the patient, than a visit to the friend of her youth, especially in the prospect of being soon fixed in a domestic circle of her own. Mrs. Grenville, who had not seen Catharine for a considerable time, was, at first, much shocked at her altered appearance, but, during her stay, a daily improvement was ob- served, and she returned, assuring her friends, and believing herself, that she was quite well. The friendship of Marianne and Catharine was of too long standing, and too unreserved, and founded on principles too sacred and sublime, to require or to warrant the world's false delicacy, that forbids allusion to the possible tendency of disease towards dissolution. Catharine herself sometimes spoke of the uncertainty that clouded her most cherished prospects for this life, and the probability that she should follow her beloved mother to an early- tomb ; and her friend did not check the surmise, though, at the same time, she encouraged the che- rishing of every reasonable ground of hope, and the use of every rational measure of precau- tion or remedy. To those who most tenderly loved Catharine, and most earnestly desired the prolongation of her life, it was an unspeakable con- 166 EARLY FRIENDSHIPS. solation to find that she could think of death with- out dismay that she was enabled, in a sweet spirit of resignation, to surrender life, and all its tender ties and delightful anticipations, to the Divine will, and, exercising a humble confidence in the merits and sufferings of an all-sufficient Saviour, to say, "To me to live is Christ, and to die is gain." The sweet savour of these conver- sations was no alloy to the cheerfulness of re- turning health, and the fulfilment of anticipated engagements. During Catharine's stay in Hampshire, she received a visit from her dearest friend, who be- held, with exulting delight, her improved state of health, and gained her consent that their intended marriage should take place at the same time, though not in the same place, with that of Alfred and Helen. It was arranged that each wedding should be celebrated in the parish of the respective brides, and that the two new married couples, each accompanied by a sister of the bride, should meet at the residence of their common relatives in Chesterfield, and thence proceed to their destined home. These arrangements were happily carried into effect in the course of the autumn, and, for a few months, the young architects and their ami- able partners were permitted to enjoy the sweet fulne v ss of domestic bliss and intimate friendship. At Christmas all the five parents met at the abode of their happy children, and mingled their feelings of delight and congratulation. Catharine's late EARLY FRIENDSHIPS. 167 indisposition was almost forgotten, except so far as to keep up due caution in point of exposure to night air, thin clothing, or any other of the excit- ing causes of latent consumption. All went on fa- vourably, till the keen winds of March excited a painful renewal of the cough and palpitations, and fresh anxiety was awakened in the minds of her affectionate friends. Some feared that the danger was aggravated by the prospect of her becoming a mother others flattered the anxious husband that this circumstance was favourable, and would issue in renewed degrees of health and strength. The crisis passed favourably, and Lewis and Catharine became the delighted parents of a little daughter, so plump and healthy as to exceed in size the little one of Helen, which was already five weeks old. It may be supposed that Helen, who had been an anxious sharer in the apprehensions entertained for her beloved sister and friend, was not an un- concerned spectator of her joy 'and gratitude. Both the little families seemed now to have their happiness complete, as far as completion can be- long to earth and time. But the cheerful scene was soon overclouded. The strength of the young mother did not rally she was unable to nourish her babe ; that charge was promptly undertaken by Helen, whose vigor- ous constitution and abundant supply of the pre- cious balm of infant life, enabled her, without in- jury, to afford sustenance to the two children. This relieved the tender mother of distressing 168 EARLY FRIENDSHIPS. apprehensions, on account of her babe being deprived of its natural nourishment, or consigned to the bosom of a hireling, and seemed to afford a last hope for the recovery of her own strength ; but hope was of short duration. Her cough returned with distressing violence, disease made rapid progress on her lovely frame, and, in little more than a year after her marriage, the beautiful and beloved Catharine was num- bered with the dead leaving, however, a delight- ful and consolatory testimony in the minds of her sorrowing friends, that her happy spirit had joined those of the just made perfect. The little motherless babe throve delightfully, under the fostering care of Helen, and the sorrows of the desolate widower were soothed by the affectionate tenderness of his sympathizing rela- tives, and the smiles of his lovely child. About two years after the death of Catharine, Helen's sister, Anna, paid her a visit on occasion of the birth of a second child, to assist in the care of the elder one and its foster-sister. This circumstance led to the formation of an attachment which once more shed the light of conjugal enjoyment over the long solitary dwelling of Lewis Hollingsby. Anna Somers replenished the void made by the death of his beloved Catharine. The little Catharine was then transferred to her maternal care, and now mingles with a numerous family of her own, not one of whom has been conscious of a feeling of jealousy, or has excited one of partiality in EARLY FRIENDSHIPS. 169 either parent. Helen, also, had a numerous train of healthy, well-managed children, who are indebted, in no small degree, for the advantages they enjoy, under the care of an excellent mother, first, to that mother's judicious maternal train- ing, and, next, to the influence of early, virtuous friendship. 170 MEMOIRS OF A BUTTERFLY. BY MISS JEWSBURY. " 'Tis greatly- wise to talk with our past hours." THE approach of autumn, and the conviction that I shall not survive the first sharp frost, would fill me with dismay did I not belong to the educated class of butterflies. I can submit to the laws of nature, and die ; I cannot submit to die and leave no record of my existence : but I am not called to this trial ; my friend, the gadfly, promises to take charge of these memoirs when completed, and to trumpet their praises throughout the insect world. That world is hastening to its end ; but, doubtless, the next generation, and especially that of but- terflies, will hold my name in estimation ; I shall certainly be regarded as their standard author. Unquestionably I should like to live to hear my own praises; but one cannot have everything, so I must be satisfied with deserving them, and commence my history. Of my infancy I remember nothing, except, in- deed, that it was said, I was a remarkably fine caterpillar ; but my own recollections begin at the moment when I burst from my cone, and found MEMOIRS OF A BUTTERFLY. 171 myself a butterfly ! I belong to that splendid tribe called the Atalanta, and, when in my prime, I was one of its chief ornaments, my wings being glossy black, edged with the richest carmine. How well do I remember the morning of my first flight! From being shut up in a dusky prison, I suddenly found myself at large, fluttering among flowers that I continually mistook for brother butterflies the glorious sun shining in the heavens without a cloud and thousands of insects sporting, like myself, in his golden beams! How many friend- ships did I form on that happy day ! How sweet were my slumbers, when at night I folded my wings in a rose that was sheltered from the dew by a laurel branch that hung over it ! From that day it was evident that nature designed me for the poet of my tribe ; doubtless, circumstances were highly favourable, but I think that 1 must, even in my caterpillar state, have possessed the organs of fancy and imagination. I will now describe my way of life. In a few days, my rose-tree became the resort of a selection from the most approved species of butterfly. The swallow-tailed, the peacock, the buck-thorn, and the atalanta kind, took the lead, on account of the splendour of their attire: the inferior orders were only bowed to at a distance, and, of course, every insect that was not a butterfly, was regarded with the utmost horror. The gadfly, the wasp, and the bee, were exceptions ; the first was neces- sary as a newsmonger, and, as all three carried 172 MEMOIRS OF A BUTTERFLY, stings, it was not safe to despise them. Every day the coterie on the rose-tree formed a party of pleasure to visit a different spot of the garden, which, as belonging to a nobleman, and being extremely retired, was a most fitting residence for butterflies of fashion. Sometimes we danced quad- rilles in the air, then rested on a woodbine, and returned home in the cool of the evening. Some- times we formed a party for conversation beneath the shade of a myrtle tree ; at which times I was expected to furnish a song or a tale, invariably in honour of some one belonging to our own body. Occasionally, for the sake of the honey he con- tributed, we invited an old bee to join our pic-nics ; but, so much did we fear that he might presume upon the honour, and join us when it might be unpleasant to recognize him, that I do not think we invited him more than twice. This delightful kind of life lasted for about a month ; towards the close of that period something like weariness stole over us ; pleasure was the sole object of our search, and, having exhausted all we knew, the inquiry was, what should be done next? Labour was out of the question ; our high birth, and re- fined habits, equally forbade us to enjoy vulgar excitements; we had, therefore, no resource but to quarrel amongst ourselves. We did so. Jea- lousies, rivalries, and bickerings, now disturbed the tranquil rose-tree. A swallow-tailed beau chal- lenged a peacock dandy : they met ; one got his beautiful coat (yellow, laced with black.) covered MEMOIRS OF A BUTTERFLY. ?73 with dust, and the other received a wound in one foot, which occasioned him to limp ever afterwards. The ladies of the respective combatants, of course, took part in the quarrel, and scandalized each other without mercy. For myself, I made satirical verses on all parties ; but I was so really vexed at the dis- turbed state of our politics, that I contrived to make myself the head of a party, whom I drew off and established on the myrtle tree before alluded to. Unalloyed felicity is not, however, destined to be the fate of butterflies. Soon after our removal, two of the party met with an untimely death ; one was crushed by a little ruffian of a schoolboy, and the other, a particular friend of my own, took cold from incautiously venturing into a damp lily. I honoured each with an elegy, and the occupation somewhat soothed my grief. For the last fortnight my troubles have been of a personal nature. I feel the approaches of old age : I do not enjoy company as I once did, nei- ther can I fly so briskly ; grave thoughts will ob- trude upon my mind ; and, on my reviewing my past life, I almost suspect that the despised ant and bee have been more Honourable insects than myself, because more useful. To be sure, I have enjoyed much pleasure ; but then it is over, and the recollection of it is but cold comfort; and, if I have been greatly admired, I am not sure that I was ever loved. I cannot help wishing I had a few good actions to remember a few benevolent sentiments ; but I cannot call any to my mind. I Q2 174 MEMOIRS OF A BUTTERFLY. certainly once felt ashamed of my party for scoff- ing at a poor black beetle (it could not help its ugliness) but then I did not use my influence to protect it. I did certainly once wish to relieve the anguish of a dying moth, by lifting it from the gravel-walk to a rose leaf; but then I abstained, for fear of soiling my wings. Well, if I might again emerge from my chrysalis, I would live a very different life ; but, as I cannot, I must hope that the posterity of butterflies, to whom 1 dedi- cate these memoirs, will profit by my experience and my regrets ! 175 HYMN FOR SABBATH MORNING. BY THE ETTRICK SHEPHERD. T LOVE, O Lord! this holy day, In mercy sent to me A day the youthful heart to sway With thankfulness to thee. On it this world at first was made By thy creative might, The ample heavens ahove it spread, The day form'd, and the night. This day the earth arose from night, With spirit unendued; A second time to glorious light It rose hy grace renew'd. In shadow'd and in douhtful faith, Of life we groped the way ; But Jesus burst the bonds of death And darkness fled away. O, blessed day ! sent from above, Despondence to control The beacon of redeeming love, The rainbow of the soul ! 176 HYMN FOR SABBATH MDRNINQ. For the return of this, thy day, O Lord ! I bless thy name ; Lead me unto thy house to pray, With heart in praying frame. And never may this blessed day Dawn o'er the eastern sea, On which I do not kneel and pray With grateful heart to thee ! Father of Life, do thou approve, And my Redeemer dear, And Spirit of Grace, bow down in love, A. simple child to hear ' 85, Queen-street) Cheapside. CATALOGUE OP INSTRUCTIVE AND AMUSING BOOKS FOR CHILDREN AND YOUNG PEOPLE. ABBOTT'S HOARY HEAD AND THE VALLEYS BELOW, royal 32mo. cloth, gilt edges, 2s. 6d. ARABIAN NIGHTS' ENTERTAINMENTS, complete, 3 vols. 32mo. cloth, gilt edges, 4s. 6d. AFFECTION'S GIFT AND POET'S OFFERING; a Series of Original Poems, 32mo. cloth, gilt edges, Is. 6d. . TOKEN, being a collection of Sacred Poe- try, partly original and partly selected, by Sarah Frank, land, from B. Barton, J. 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