and I am afraid I gave my governess, Miss Harwood, very much trouble for a whole week, I was so inattentive to my lessons. At length it came—the long-wished-for twenty-ninth of June; and certainly it was as lovely a day as I could possibly have desired. I remember waking very early, and jumping out of my bed to look at the weather. The sky was of a deep rich blue, with only a faint mist over the distance, foretelling the heat of the noonday. From my window I could see far over the country, and everything that I could distinctly view was my father's property. I called to my sister Edith, and made her come to the window, to enjoy the perfect beauty of the morning; and I can well recollect saying to her, with a half-envious sigh, 'Should you not like to be Charles, and to think that all this was to be your own?' Your aunt, Amy, was of a very sweet, contented disposition, and she checked me for the wish, and said that she was thankful for her brother's blessings, but she could hardly desire them for herself,—she was afraid she should not make a good use of them. We stood for some time together; but said very little, for there was such a perfect stillness reigning around that it almost seemed as if it would be wrong to break it. Presently, however, we heard the sound of distant music; it came nearer and nearer, and we soon recognised the sweet voices of the village children, who had been sent to pay this first mark of respect to their young master.

"I cannot describe how beautiful it sounded to me, though perhaps it was only because I was in a state of such excitement, and so inclined to find delight in everything; but I know that I listened to it with breathless attention, and when I turned to look at Edith, there was a tear in her eye, and I do not think that she, though so much calmer in disposition, has ever forgotten, any more than myself, the tones of that simple hymn."

"But, mamma," interrupted Amy, "the children never sing so beautifully now?"

"I do not mean, my dear," replied Mrs Herbert, "that the music was really so very much better than what I had usually heard, though I dare say they had had a great deal of pains taken with them. But you will find, as you grow older, that many things which are in themselves common, will appear delightful to you if you are inclined to be particularly happy; and so it was with me on that morning. Edith and myself stayed so long at the window, even after the children's singing was over, that we were only just dressed by the time the bell rang for morning prayers, and when we entered the chapel, it was quite full. All the servants of the family, with those of our numerous guests and a few of my father's tenants, were ranged on the long oaken benches in the aisle; the seats for the gentlemen were occupied by my father, my brother, and their friends; and the ladies' gallery, in which we were, was also crowded. I felt quite frightened when I went in, for many of those present were strangers to me, having arrived late the night before; but I took my place between Edith and Miss Harwood, and the service began. It was read by my brother's tutor, a clergyman who lived in the family; and when it was over, the party assembled in the breakfast-room, but we were considered too young to join it, and we came back to what was then the schoolroom— the very room in which we now are, Amy—to be with Miss Harwood and the younger children till it should be time for us to wait upon the poor people, who were to have a dinner given them on the lawn, in front of the house. All that I could think of was the grandeur of my brother's situation, and the pleasure of having so many persons assembled to do honour to oneself. I could not fix my attention to anything, but could only count the hours till two o'clock, and run occasionally to the top of the great stair-case to look at what was going on below, for preparations were making on a large scale for the evening's entertainment; servants were constantly passing and repassing, and I heard my brother's name repeated by almost every one. At length Edith and I were told to go into the servants' hall, where the school children were to meet, and to place them in order, that they might walk regularly, two and two, to the ground where the dinner was laid. This was to me most welcome news; for I was tired of being nearly the only useless person in the midst of so much bustle, and we spent at least a quarter of an hour endeavouring to make them understand which were to go together, and how they were to behave, and distributing some little coloured banners which we had amused ourselves with preparing for the occasion; and when the great bell sounded, Edith and myself walked before them to the ground. My father and his guests were assembled on the terrace, and my brother stood by my father's side exactly in the centre. The children and their parents, and the rest of the tenants, were ranged at their several tables; and then, when the steward had called for silence, they all rose, and my father spoke to them, in a voice so clear that I think it must have been heard by every one. He told them of the gratification it was to him to see them all before him, and of the certainty he felt of their good-will towards him, with many more expressions of the same kind; and then, taking my brother by the hand, he led him forward to the edge of the terrace, and presented him to them as his heir, and their future master, saying that he trusted he would always prove himself their true friend; and that when he should be laid in his grave, my brother might receive from them, and from their children, the same marks of sincere attachment which they had always shown to himself.

"A general burst of applause followed this speech of my father's, and the words 'Long live the young master!' were heard from every lip; even the children joined in the cry; and when the excitement had a little subsided, my brother also spoke. He was extremely frightened, and I could not hear all that he said; but I was told afterwards that he thanked them for their reception of him, and added that he hoped it would be very long before he should be called on to act as their master; but that, when that time should arrive, it would be his one earnest endeavour to follow his father's footsteps. As he concluded, another loud cheer was given by the tenants, and just as it was dying away I heard a voice behind me say, in a deep, suppressed tone, 'May God in heaven bless him! and may he one day be the possessor of a far richer inheritance!' I was quite startled at the solemnity with which the words were spoken, and I did not at the moment understand their meaning. They seemed to be quite involuntary, and were certainly not intended to be overheard; and I turned quickly to see who was near. I was standing between the two tables, and on my right hand was a young man whose face I did not at all recollect. He appeared about my brother's age; but instead of Charles' healthy complexion and strong limbs, he looked completely worn by disease. There was not the slightest tinge of colour in his cheeks; his eyes were deep sunk in his head, and even his lips were of an ashy paleness, and the hand by which he supported himself, as he leant rather than stood against the table, was more like that of a skeleton than of a living being; his clothes were neat and clean, but showed marks of great poverty; and, in fact, I had seldom seen such indications of extreme sickness and want."

"Poor man!" exclaimed Amy; "was he really unhappy, mamma?"

"No, my love," replied Mrs Herbert. "I was just going to tell you that, notwithstanding all these symptoms of suffering, he looked perfectly contented, and there was even a smile upon his face. I watched him as he seated himself after the speeches were ended, and saw that he was quite exhausted; he ate little or nothing; and, before the dinner was over, he was obliged to leave the ground, assisted by an elderly woman, whom I knew very well, and who was in very distressed circumstances. I could