wealth, and looked round with an eye that asked for admiration.

No notice was taken. Mrs. Harewood opening her own purse, took out half-a-crown, and then counted all that she had got. In doing it, Ellen perceived not her sixpence, and she then, with modesty, but without any shame, said—“I believe my sixpence must have slipped down.”

“I did not know you gave me one, child.”

“Yes, but she did, for I saw her,” said Mr. Harewood, “though she was not aware that I did. She gave it in silence, not from affectation, but a kind motive towards one who could not appreciate it; but we will say no more on this point. Ellen, you have gratified your father: I see in your conduct the germ of a gentlewoman, and, what is infinitely more precious, of a Christian.”

Ellen sprung to her father’s arms, and in his affectionate kiss found a rich reward.

For a moment, Matilda thought to herself, what a piece of work is here about sixpence, while they take no notice at all of a bright golden half-guinea! but still her understanding combated this thought, for she knew that all the present company saw beyond the surface, and estimated the gift according to the spirit of the donor.

Betty now came in, and Mrs. Harewood gave her the money, telling her to buy some frocks with it. Observing the servant eye the half-guinea, she said—“That was the gift of Miss Hanson; she is very rich, it seems, and gives out of her abundance. I am sure you will be grateful to her; but if your fellow-servants, Betty, should spare, out of the little time they have, enough to assist you in the making of these things, they will be the best friends you meet with; for labour is much greater charity than money.”

Betty replied, that she was much obliged to all her friends, both above and below, and especially to poor Zebby, who had offered, with her lady’s leave, to sit up all night with her sister.

“She has not only my leave, but my approbation, especially as your accident has rendered you unable. Tell Zebby I will spare her for a week, on this truly charitable occasion.”

With many thanks, Betty withdrew, and Ellen was soon, like her mamma, busy with her needle. Mr. Harewood, drawing a celestial globe towards him, began to give his sons some instruction, which interested them exceedingly; all were employed, all happy, but Matilda, whose uneasiness was in fact considerably augmented by the idea of Zebby leaving the house; for though she used her ill, she had a regard for her, the extent of which she was not aware of till now that her heart was a little softened, and her judgment enlightened, by the transactions of the day.

After fidgeting about for some time, she at length took up a needle and threaded it, and then drawing more timidly towards Mrs. Harewood, she said—“I don’t mind if I do sew a little bit.”

Eager to seize upon any good symptom, Mrs. Harewood gave her a little cap, carefully doubled down, saying—“You see this is double; in these countries, the babies, or pickaninnies, as you call them, must be kept warm.”

“I called that woman’s twins pickaninnies, because I thought she was poor—a kind of servant; we do not call white children so—only little negroes.”

“They are all the same with us, and will be so with you, I hope, by and by; indeed they always were with sensible good people. But, Matilda, what long stitches you are taking! I shall have all your work to pick out again.”

“I believe I cannot sew, indeed.”

“So it appears; nor can you play a tune, nor read a French lesson, nor write, nor draw: poor little girl! you have a great deal to learn: but, however, keep up your spirits; if you are diligent and tractable, you will conquer all your difficulties; humility and industry will enable you to learn every thing.”

“How very strange it is,” said Matilda to herself, “that these people appear to pity me, instead of envying me, as they used to do in Barbadoes, and as I thought they would do here! besides, they are not angry with me, even when they find fault with me, and they seem to wish me to be good for the sake of being happy.”

These thoughts somewhat soothed the perturbed bosom of the poor child until the hour of rest, when the remembrance of the good-tempered negro’s destination rose to her mind, and she lamented her absence, and blamed her exceedingly for leaving her to go after a woman she had never seen in her life: but the next day, it was apparent that the lesson she had received was not lost upon her; she appeared ashamed of her ignorance, and willing to learn; and as all her young friends were very willing to instruct her, in whatever they had the power, she soon began to make some progress in her education; she was a child of good capacity, and, when roused to exertion, unusually quick; and being at an age when the mind expands quickly, it was no wonder that she soon gave evident marks of improvement. It was observed, that as her mind became enlightened, her manners were softened, and her petulance less obtrusive, though she was seen to suffer daily from the habitual violence of her temper, and the disposition to insolence, which unchecked power is so apt to foster in young minds.

Mrs. Harewood found the care of Matilda greatly increase her task of managing her family, as one naughty child frequently makes another, by raising up a spirit of contention and ill-humour; and Charles was so frequently led into sallies of passion, or tempted to ridicule the fault in his new companion, that his parents often lamented that they had accepted such a burdensome charge: but when they saw any symptoms of improvement in her, they were ever happy to foster the good seed; and in the consciousness that they were not only raising up a human mind to virtue and happiness, but preparing an immortal soul for heaven, they thought little of their own trouble, and were even truly thankful that she had been intrusted to their careful examination and affectionate discipline.

CHAPTER IV.

AT the end of the week, Zebby came home, according to appointment; and having paid her respects to her excellent lady, she ran up stairs, and entered the apartment where the two young ladies were getting the tasks assigned them by Mrs. Harewood. When Matilda first beheld her she had a great inclination to embrace her, for her heart bounded towards the only creature she had been acquainted with from her cradle; but she suddenly checked herself, and pretended to continue her reading; but Ellen spoke to her kindly, though she told her that she was so situated, as not to be able to chat at present.

Zebby comprehended this, and would have withdrawn; but not to have a single word from her, whom in her heart, she still considered as her young mistress, the faithful creature could not endure; after waiting some minutes in vain, she dropped a second humble courtesy, and said—“How you do, Missy? me very glad see you larn booky, but me hopes you spare one look, one wordy, for poor Zebby; me go away one long weeky, to nurse white man baby, pretty as you, Missy.”

“Yes,” said Matilda, reproachingly, “you went away and left me very willingly, though it was to wait on a person you never saw before.”

“Ah, Missy! you no lovee me, and poor white woman lovee me much. You makee beer spit in my face—she givee me tea-gruel out of her own cup. You callee me black beetle—she callee me good girly, good nursy, good every ting.”

Matilda gave a deep sigh; she well remembered that it was on the very day of her