THE
ADOPTED DAUGHTER,

"You took me up a tender flower."

SECOND EDITION.

LONDON:
PRINTED FOR J. HARRIS AND SON,
ST. PAUL'S CHURCH YARD.
1822.

LONDON
PRINTED BY COX AND BAYLIS,
GREAT QUEEN STREET, LINCOLN'S-INN-FIELDS.

PREFACE.

The following tale is intended to shew what people ought to be, rather than what they are; as there are few, possessing Mrs. Meridith's fortune, who have an inclination to dispose of it in the manner she is represented to have done. Indeed, the characters here introduced are too near perfection to be met with in real life, yet the Author hopes that her young readers will receive instruction, as well as amusement, in perusing it.

Some of the incidents may have been before introduced in works of the same kind; though she is not aware of plagiarism, or borrowing from other authors, and as she has endeavoured to pourtray those smaller delineations of character which often escape a general observer, she hopes many of the ideas will be found to be new; and that the present work will not lesson the favour which her former publications has so abundantly met with; and which she holds in grateful estimation.

THE
ADOPTED DAUGHTER.

CHAPTER I.

"You took me up a tender flower."

Mrs. Meridith was the heiress of two considerable estates, one of which was in Sussex, on which she was born, and where, at the commencement of this history, she came to reside: her earliest and happiest days of childhood had been spent in the village adjoining, where she was nursed by a respectable farmer's wife, having had the misfortune to lose her mother, who died in bringing her into the world. Various sorrows, and the loss of an affectionate husband very early in life, made Mrs. Meridith prefer the quiet scenes of the country to the glitter of dissipation, or the more uniform amusements of a provincial town; and on entering Rosewood, the name of her estate, she hoped to lose the remembrance of her distresses, which had hitherto heavily oppressed her, in endeavouring to alleviate those of her tenants and the neighbouring poor. Her father, Mr. Woodville, was a great fox-hunter, and on the death of his wife, which he did not feel so keenly as might be expected from the amiable character she possessed, earnestly entreated Mrs. Campbell, who was the wife of his favourite tenant, to take charge of the helpless infant. He could have wished she had been a boy, as she was his only child; "yet," said he, "she must be taken care of, though a female, and I will not injure the fortune to which she will be entitled; and by and by, when she is old enough, I shall be glad to see her at the head of my table;" but while she was a baby, he thought if he entrusted her to a careful nurse, such as he was sure Mrs. Campbell would be, it was all that could be required of him. Nor was he desirous of having her in his own house, but perfectly satisfied that she should be removed to the farm, where he could see her as often as he wished. He frequently called on his return from the chace, and repeated his thanks to Mrs. Campbell for her kind attention to his child, earnestly requesting her not to want any thing which his house afforded; but Mr. and Mrs. Campbell were above want, and possessed every comfort which their moderate wishes required, so that, except the allotted stipend which Mr. Woodville engaged to pay, she sought no other recompence, and seldom went to Rosewood, but when its owner was confined by accident or illness, and wished his daughter to be brought to him.

She continued with the farmer and his wife till nearly six years old, regarding them as parents, and loving them equally with her father, who, as she advanced in childhood, grew more attached to her, and, pleased with her winning ways, he never came to the farm without some new toy, or sweetmeat, or sugar-plums, the servants at home being ordered to have something nice always in readiness for him to take to their young mistress. These repeated presents insured him a welcome from his daughter, nor did he suspect that he was buying that love which she freely bestowed on her mammy Campbell, for so she styled her affectionate nurse. The little girl who was her foster sister always shared in these favours, and another part was put by for the boys till their return from school, and whom she looked upon as her brothers.

It was the eldest of these boys who now occupied the farm on which Mrs. Meridith had spent her infant days; his father and mother were both dead, and he had taken a long lease of it just before that lady came into possession of the estate. Mr. Woodville had been dead some years, but Mrs. Meridith had not visited Rosewood since that event, nor after her marriage till now, being deprived of her husband, with whom she had lived on her other estate in Lincolnshire, she turned her thoughts to Rosewood, where she hoped to forget her grief, and if any of the companions of her childhood were living, she could by adding to their comforts, increase her own. Here she found not the farmer Campbell she had formerly called her father, but his son, whom she once loved as a brother; her good old nurse had died a few years before, and her foster sister also, but the latter had left a child, which the present Mr. and Mrs. Campbell brought up as their own. There were but two houses of any size in the village of Downash, except the parsonage, which was occasionally occupied by the vicar, a single man, who lost the pleasure he might have found in assisting those whom he professed to take the care of, in drinking and visiting the neighbouring towns, as often as his situation would allow: the others were occupied by farmer Campbell and farmer Ward, who divided the arable land of Mrs. Meridith's estate between them, and the cottages of their labourers formed what was called the street. No sooner was Mrs. Meridith settled at Rosewood, than she felt the ties of affection renewed which had bound her to it in infancy, and she felt the truth of the following observation—