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Peggy was very fond of her young lady, as indeed was every servant in the house; but there was a good woman, who went in the family by the name of Nurse, for whom Jemima had a still greater attachment. She had attended Mrs. Placid before her marriage, had nursed all her children from their births, and Jemima was the darling of her heart. As she entered the room at this time, she took the weeping girl into her lap, and wept herself at the reflexion, that it was the first time in her life she had slept without her!—And so pray, my dear, said she, take care of yourself, and when you go to bed, mind that they pin your night-cap close at the top, otherwise you will get cold; and do not forget to have your linen well aired; for otherwise it is very dangerous, love; and many a person, by such neglect, has caught a cold which has terminated in a fever. Sweet child! I do not like to trust it from me, added she, hugging her still closer, and smothering her face in a check cotton handkerchief, which she wore on her neck. Jemima promised an observance of her injunctions, and being now dressed, attended a summons from her mamma, who was alone in her chamber, the company having left her to walk in the garden, whither she was unable to accompany them.—I see, my dear girl, said she, holding out her hand as she sat in an easy chair by the window; I see that you are sorry to leave me; and indeed, Jemima, I am much grieved that such a separation is necessary; but I hope I shall be better when I return; and I am sure you would wish me to be quite well. I hope, therefore, that you will be a good child while you stay with your uncle and aunt, and not give more trouble than you cannot avoid. You know, my love, that although you are going among strangers, yet you will be properly and kindly taken care of; and though I do not say it is so agreeable as to be at home with your nearer friends, yet, as we cannot have every thing we wish for, we must not be fretful, because that will not give us what we desire, and will certainly make us more uncomfortable, and be disliked by all those with whom we are connected. There are a great many little things, Jemima, which you know I frequently tell you of, and which you must endeavour to remember when I am not with you. Therefore, do not forget to hold up your head, and behave gracefully; and when you are at dinner, if you should be offered any thing improper, that is, what you are not permitted to have at home, be sure civilly to refuse it, and say, Your mamma does not choose you should eat any. My only reason, you must be convinced, for denying you any indulgence of that kind, is, because it would disagree with you, and make you ill; and you are so good, I dare say, as never to do those things when your papa and I are absent, which we should prevent if we were present.—Miss Placid assured her mamma of her obedience, and her firm resolution to mind all her admonitions; when she resumed her injunctions, and added—There is one thing, my dear, of more importance than the rest, which I would have you chiefly attend to: whatever may be your temptation to the contrary, remember to speak the truth. Your absence from me will be no excuse for the neglect of your duty; and if once you forfeit your honour, I can have no farther dependence upon you; and never venture to rely on the concealment of a fault; for you may depend upon it, such things are found out when least expected; but if they should not be, the unhappiness you would feel at having behaved wrongly, would be a great punishment of itself. Yet I need not, I dare say, have mentioned this to my Jemima, as she is at all times so good as to deserve reliance; only as you are going to be left quite to yourself, I thought it necessary to put you particularly upon your guard.—Mr. Piner returning at this period, interrupted any farther discourse, only Mrs. Placid affectionately pressed her hand, and, after giving her a kiss, Jemima sat down on a little stool by her side.

When the hour of her departure was nearly arrived, she retired into the garden to take leave of her brothers, and went round with them to all the different places she had been accustomed to play in. They visited together the poultry-yard, and Jemima fed her bantams before she left them [see the following page], bidding them all adieu, and looking behind her for the last time as she shut the gate. They then walked round by some walnut-trees, where a seat had been put up for them to sit in the shade.—I wish you were not going! said Charles; for I put this box, and drove in these nails, on purpose for you to hang up your doll's clothes, and now they will be of no farther use to us.—I wish so too! replied his sister; but I cannot help it.—Well, do not cry, added William; but come this way by the brewhouse, and bid my rabbits good-bye, and take this piece of lettuce in your hand to feed the old doe, and here is some parsley for the young ones; we shall have some more before you come back, and I will send you word, if I can, how many there be.—And, Jemima, said Charles, I wish I were going with you to London! for I should like to see it, it is such a large place; a great deal bigger than any villages which we have seen; and, they say, the houses stand close together for a great way; and there are no fields or trees, and the houses have no gardens to them; but then there is a great number of shops, and you might perhaps get a collar for Hector! Do pray try, Jemima, and buy him one, and have his name put upon it, and that he belongs to the Rev. Mr. Placid, of Smiledale; for then, in case we should lose him, folk would know where to return him.—And would it not be better to have a bell, said William, as the sheep have? I like a bell very much, it would make such a nice noise about the house! and then we should always know where he was when we were reading, as my father will not let us look after him. What else do we want her to buy, Charles? Cannot you write a list?—That will be the best way, replied he, taking out his pencil; and, very ungracefully, to be sure, he put the point of it to his mouth two or three times before it would write; and then, having but a small scrap of paper, he dispatched his brother, as the shortest way, to fetch a slate, and he would transcribe it afterwards with a pen and ink; for he had, in endeavouring to cut a new point to his pencil, broken it off so frequently, that the lead was all wasted, and nothing remained except the wood. William soon returned, with the slate under his arm. Charles took it from him, and then went to work to prepare a bill of necessary things, which his sister was to purchase in London. He leaned so hard, and scratched in such a manner, as, had any grown people been of the party, would have set their teeth on edge (a sensation, I believe, with which children are unacquainted, for they never seem to notice it at all).—First then, said he, I am to mention a collar for Hector, with his name and place of abode; and I should like very much to have some Indian glue, to mend our play things; such as papa uses, and which we cannot get here, you know.